#i know im making a good decision! you can either help me or get out of the way tbh to be honest

[jesterguy]

My dad has been pissing me offfffffff and today it's all coming to a head but I'm gonna be fine! It's cool!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

ready

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, soft!rafe, inexperienced!reader (not a virgin though), reader is briefly described as small chested, p in v sex, mentions of past bad experiences

you feel like you've been kissing rafe for hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes as his lips gently glide against yours. his hands are placed securely at your waist, not venturing any further until you give him permission, even though he's itching to feel your bare skin.

“should we take this upstairs?” rafe asks, his voice a soft hum, sultry and low.

“oh, um-” you freeze, and rafe can feel the change in your body, the way you suddenly stiffen.

“just because wheezie is going to come home soon. we can just kiss, don't have to do anything you don't want to.” rafe quickly clarifies.

“yes, then.” you nod enthusiastically. “absolutely.”

rafe smiles, looping your hands together as he walks you upstairs to his room. you feel your heartbeat speed up, even though rafe assured you that you wouldn't be doing anything you weren't ready for.

“sorry for freaking out for a second earlier.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as rafe shuts the door behind you.

“it's fine.” rafe shakes his head. “i should have been more clear. we take this at your pace, baby.”

“thank you.” you loop your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. “who knew rafe cameron could be such a sweeatheart?”

“you bring it out in me, princess, i don't know what to say.” rafe backs you up until the back of your knees hit his bed and you lower yourself down.

“i do have a question though.” rafe hums as he sits himself down next to you. “and im not going to judge you either way, it's just for me to know how to handle things.”

“okay.” you nod, already guessing where this is going.

“are you a virgin?”

“no.” you shake your head. “ive had a couple experiences before but none of them have been… good.” you sigh, thinking back to your first boyfriend who took your virginity on prom night, in all of 30 seconds. “and i haven't had sex in a long time so in a way i kind of feel like a virgin.”

“okay.” rafe nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, gently cradling you against his side. “thank you for telling that to me.”

“i… want to, though. with you.”

“there's no rush, i want you too, but we can take our time.” rafe presses a kiss to your head.

“you're not gonna get bored waiting?” you duck your head as you speak, ashamed of the question even as you ask.

“never, babes. you're my girl, yeah? i don't take that lightly. if i wasn't willing to wait, i wouldn't have asked you out in the first place.”

a smile stretches across your cheeks as you hide your face in rafes shirt. 

“oh, you're so cute when you're all shy.” rafe laughs, cupping your cheek and lifting your face up to look at him, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.

“i want you.” you say, chasing rafes lips to connect them.

“you already said that.” 

“i mean-” you take a deep breath, considering your decision. “i mean i want you now. im ready.”

“right now? baby if you feel pressured-”

“no, no.” you grip his shirt. “i really want this.”

“okay.” rafe can't help the smile that stretches across his cheeks. “we're taking things slow though, alright?”

you nod, kissing him again as rafe moves you, guiding you to lay back against the pillows. he hovers over you, holding his weight up on his elbows.

rafe pulls back, looking down at you. “you're so beautiful.”

you feel your cheeks flush red as you blush, resisting the urge to cover your face. 

“im gonna take my shirt off first, alright? make you feel nice and comfortable.” rafe says.

“you mean make me feel hot and turned on? because that's what happens when you take your shirt off around me.” you giggle.

“oh, i see the way you stare at me when i take you out on the boat.” rafe laughs, placing his knees on either side of your body on the bed, caging you in as he straightens out, pulling his shirt off.

“can i… touch you?” you question. you've hugged rafe before when he's shirtless, but you've never specifically focused on feeling his muscles.

rafe doesn't answer with his words, simply taking your hand and placing it on his abs.

you run your hand over the ridges of his abdomen before moving up, feeling his defined chest, pecks almost as big as your own breasts.

“satisfied?” rafe asks when you lower your hand.

“yeah im… im gonna take my shirt off now.” you tell rafe, wanting to feel rafe touching you, the way your bare skin presses together when he leans back down and kisses you.

rafe moves back, allowing you to pull your tank top off, leaving your bra covering your chest for now.

“so hot, baby.” rafe drops himself over you, kissing you again. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling the way he's so sculpted there too as your hand drifts down his back.

“can i take your bra off?” rafe questions. “only if you want.”

“mhm.” you go to reach behind your back, but rafe moves faster than you, unclipping your bra and sliding the straps down your arms. he leaves you the final decision to pull the cups away.

you swear rafes eyes increase in size as he takes in your bare chest.

“it's okay, you can touch me. i-i want you to touch me.” 

rafe nods, hands coming to cover your tits, large palms swallowing them.

“i know they're small-” you begin to explain, but rafe cuts you off.

“they're perfect, baby.” rafe says honestly. you can see him now beginning to tent in his shorts as he stays kneeling above you, hands moving to cup your tits, thumbs running around your nipples before swiping over them.

you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. none of the guys you slept with in the past paid any real attention to making you feel good as rafe continues, watching your nipples harden with every movement.

“we can stop here for today if you like.” rafe says, hands moving to your waist, wrapping around you as he drops once again to press a kiss to your lips.

“no, i don't want to stop.” you admit shyly. “i want you so bad.”

“good, because im hard as hell and if you wanted to stop id definitely have to go take care of myself in the bathroom.” rafes joke diffuses the situation even more as you let out a laugh.

“im just gonna touch you over your shorts for now. if at any point it's too much…” rafe trails off, knowing he's being so extra cautious you probably find it annoying, but he doesn't want today to be added to your list of bad experiences.

rafe moves himself to the side, distracting you with more kisses as his hand drops to spread your legs, fingers gently running over your thighs before moving up higher.

rafe keeps his movements light as he begins to rub your center, increasing the intensity when you moan against his mouth.

“does that feel good?” he smiles down at you, watching your face contort in pleasure.

“in… inside my shorts please.” you take rafes hand and move him one less barrier away. rafe sees your need and immediately begins to rub again, now with just your underwear in the way.

“oh god, you're so wet.” rafe groans, focusing in on your clit as you let out soft moans, aware that you're likely no longer alone in the house.

“i-i need you rafe.”

“yeah.” rafe pulls his hand out, clearly unable to wait as he's straining against the zipper of his shorts.

rafe steps off the bed and you watch in fascination as he undoes his shorts, sliding them off to reveal his incredibly obvious bulge in his underwear before rifling through his nightstand to pull out a condom.

“no complaints.” he says when you open your mouth. “i know you're on birth control but your first time with me is not going to be raw. just in case you don't like it.”

you giggle, rolling your eyes. “i know im gonna like it, rafe.”

“still.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you watch intensely as rafes underwear is also pushed off his hips, his cock standing hard and up away from his body.

“do you want me to… suck it or something?”

“if you do that i won't get to fuck you.” it takes you a second to realize what rafe means.

“oh!”

“you just… really turn me on.” he admits.

you lift your hips and push your shorts and underwear down in one go, kicking them off the bed to add to the piles of clothes on the floor

rafe smirks, glad you're growing more and more confident every minute.

rafe lays back down next to you, both turning to the side to face each other.

“are you nervous?” rafe questions, hand falling to your bare hip, rubbing your leg and keeping his eyes locked with yours, despite wanting to look down and see all of you.

“i thought i would be.” you admit softly. “but im not. not with you.”

“im gonna let you control everything at first.” rafe lifts your leg and sets it over his hip, his cock nestling between your thighs.

you close your eyes as you press down, experimenting with the way rafes cock rubs through your folds, having to remember to keep your moans quiet when it bumps against your clit.

“whenever you're ready.” rafe says, his eyes now squeezed shut as he concentrates on holding himself back.

you reach down, grasping rafes cock as you move him against your entrance, angling your hips as you sink forward until he's as far inside of you as he can get in this position.

“just…” rafes hand squeezes at your hip. “stay like that for a second, baby.”

you need a moment to adjust anyways, so you keep your hips still until rafe exhales and nods at you.

you look down between your bodies, watching the way his cock disappears inside of you with every movement.

“god, you feel amazing.” he moans. 

“you can move. please.” you whimper. rafe nods again, beginning to rock back and forth, making the mattress squeak underneath you as he meets your thrusts.

the movements may be slow, but you're gradually building up, experimenting by shifting your hips and seeing what feels best.

you let out a sudden moan when you tilt your hips and rafes cock hits a new sensitive spot inside of you.

“no one's ever done that before for you, huh?” rafe smiles at your clear shock and pleasure as he thrusts in and presses the spot again.

“oh fuck.” you whine, head leaning back as rafe carefully moves you onto your back so he can take over.

“you don't know how long ive wanted to see you like this.” rafe says, balancing on his elbows as his hips press into you, keeping the thrusts slow but deep.

“moaning beneath me. god, i would have waited forever for you but im so glad we're doing this now.” 

“rafe, stop.” you whine. “you're gonna make me cry and im way too horny to start sobbing.”

rafe laughs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead before refocusing on your pleasure as he speeds up.

“im gonna touch your clit as i fuck you, baby.” rafe informs you before moving his hand, thumb pressing over your clit as he rubs.

“oh shit!” you squeal before quickly covering your mouth, your hips lifting off the bed as rafe continues to fuck into you.

“are you close?” he questions, glad that you nod, not sure how much longer he can hold off.

rafe pushes his pleasure aside for a bit longer as he presses inside of you, sighing with relief when he feels you tighten around him.

“oh my god, rafe!” you moan as your high suddenly hits, entire body shaking as your pussy pulses around his cock, spurring on rafes own orgasm as he cums with a moan of your name, filling the condom.

he gives you a feel final thrusts, his thumb shakily rubbing your clit through your high until he can't hold himself up any longer, collapsing on the bed to the side of you.

you're both breathing heavily, recovering from the intensity. as soon as rafe can get his muscles to respond to him, he pulls you in close, tucking you against his side.

“so, was i good baby?” he asks, even as your body still shakes with the after waves of your pleasure.

“best ive ever had.” you grin up at him. “by a long shot.”

“just what i like to hear.” rafe bends down to give you a kiss before pushing your hair away from his face and leaning to whisper into your ear. “and you haven't even got to feel my mouth yet. just wait until i eat you out.”

[samandcolbyownme]

IM ALSSSSOOOOOOO IN NEED OF MORE SOLBY FICS OR LIKE FLUFFY SOLBY SUGGESTIVE BUT NOT SMUTTY UGH ITS A CRAVING

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of reader being drunk, flirtatious vibes, secret relationship, throuple, sexual tension, flirting, maybe some innuendos

Word Count: 1.7k | unedited

“What’s up guys, Sam, Colby, and our good friend, y/n, come at you live from our living room.” Colby laughs, “I’m starting to regret this decision, but we asked you guys to send us some juicy, mouth watering truth or drink questions to answer..”

“And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Sam nods, looking at you and Colby, “Who’s ready to get drunk at-“ he checks his watch, “Five p.m on a Tuesday?”

“Me, because I’m not answering shit.” You laugh, “No I’m kidding.”

“My money is on y/n being the first one even slightly tipsy.” Colby points to you and you scoff, “Really?” You motion to Sam, “My money is on him.”

“You guys were betting?” Sam asks, his tone kinda sad and, normally, you would go with the joke and give him a kiss as an apology, but this time, you can’t.

The fans don’t know that you managed to bag both guys who are sitting on either side of you, and you hope that you can make it through this without giving up that secret.

“I mean, we can.” Colby smirks, “Twenty bucks says y/n will be drunk first.”

“Thirty bucks says Sam will get drunk first.” You laugh and Sam scoffs and looks into the camera, “You guys better help me out because I got forty bucks on Colby.”

You lean forward, watching the comments on the laptop screen flood in, “You guys have no faith in me at all, do you?” You laugh, “Let’s find out. First question.”

You pull up your phone, going into the shared note, “Mm, okay.” You reread it one more time before setting your phone in your lap, “what was the last thing you lied about?”

Colby raises his brows, “I can’t say.”

“Why?” You ask, knowing the last thing he lied about was calling you their good friend.

“Because, I can’t.” Colby pours some vodka into the shot glass and takes it, cringing as he takes a sip of his truly, “Oh, fuck. I hate doing these.”

“Well I’m safe because the last thing I lied about was what time I was getting up this morning.” Sam laughs, “I was going to get up early, go for a run, but..” he glances at you, “my body needed more sleep so.”

“Well you were up late editing so.” You shrug, “Understandable. Anyway. Sam. Go.”

Sam pulls up his phone, scrolling through the note, “Ah ha. Okay.” He brings his phone down, “You guys sent in some good ones.”

Sam tilts his head back to rest against the couch, “Have you ever sent a text to the wrong person, and if so. Who was it for and who did it go to?”

“Goddamn. Getting specific, I see. Um..” Colby thinks and you raise your hand, “I accidently sent a text to you when it was for Colby.”

You look into the camera, “No. it’s not what you think.”

It’s exactly what they think.

“I um..” Colby laughs, “I accidently sent a text to my mom one time, don’t ask me how I managed it because to this day it still haunts me, but I meant to say, fuck, what was it.” Colby snaps, “Oh, it was something along the lines of I hope you’re ready for tomorrow sweet cheeks, and it was supposed to go to Sam.”

“How-“ you laugh as Colby cuts you off, “I don’t know! I do not know.”

“Oh my god. Is that why your mom calls you sweet cheeks?” Sam leans over laughing, “I’ll have to ask her about that.”

“Moving on.” Colby brings up his phone and sighs, “Time for me to win this bet.” He puts his phone down, bringing it back up to read the question correctly, “

“Have you ever caught one of the others during it?” Colby tilts his head, “I assume they mean doin’ the nasty, so that’s what I’m going to go with.”

You immediately lean forward to fill your shot glass and Sam does the same.

Colby scoffs, “Not one of you is going to explain?”

“Nope.” You clink your glass with Sam’s and you both take the shot.

You groan as you bring your can up to your lips to get rid of the straight alcohol taste, “I’m good on that.” You smirk, tilting your head, “My turn.”

You scroll and stop, smirking as you tilt your head back, “Have you ever had a threesome?”

All of your answers are yes, and all of you give it away with the smirks and blush laying on your cheeks.

“Do we have to say when or explain anything?” Colby asks and you shake your head, “Nope, just a yes or no answer.”

“Theeeeen….” Colby laughs nervously, “Yeah, yeah I have.”

“Yup.” Sam smirks, “Anyway, okay. Um..” He picks up his phone and you lean forward, watching at the chat blows up.

User1: I NEED TO KNOW WHO

User2: THEY ALL HAD A THREE SOME

User3: I THINK THEY DID IT BUT I JUST CAN’T PROVE IT

“Hey.” You laugh slightly, “No body. No crime, right?”

——

You were trying your best to pretend like you were sober, but you infact weren’t.

Sam and Colby had been trying to win this bet, that wasn’t even serious, but little do you know, it’s not about money at all.

The money is for show.

“How are we feelin’ guys?” Colby asks with a slight laugh, “Drunk yet?”

You shake your head, “No, I feel.. I feel fine.”

“You sure?” Sam squints, “because half of that bottle is gone and I know that it was more you than us.” Sam laughs and you point to him, “You’re drunk.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” You smirk, biting onto your lip to stifle your laugh. You wanted to kiss him more than anything but you still had some level of restrain left, even if you were a little drunk.

“I won’t admit it until you admit it.” Sam argues and you roll your eyes, “Good luck.” You scroll on your phone, “Okay. Back to the game.”

You giggle as you read over the one question, “Okay. Have you ever made a sex tape?”

“Not yet.” Colby mumbles into his drink, “I mean.” He lifts his head, “No.”

Once again, chat goes absolutely berserk.

User4: DID HE JUST SAY NOT YET COLBY

User5: COOOOOOLBYYYYYYY

User6: Sam. We’re waiting for your answer give it to us

User7: NOT YET AASGHDKDLDL COLBY

You laugh, looking over at Sam, “They want your answer, b-“ you correct yourself, fast, “Sam.”

“I mean, no, but do I want to?” He smirks and shrugs his shoulder, “Who knows.”

“Oooooooh.” Colby drags out and you look at him, “You’re drunk.”

He nods, “Yes ma’am. I am.”

Sam jumps up, arms raised, “Fuck yeah!”

“You’re drunk, too!” You point to Sam and he plops back down onto the couch, taking a long sip of his truly, “Yeah, okay. I am.”

You look at the camera, “So.. since I’m the last one to announce that I am in fact kinda drunk.. doesn’t that make me the winner?”

“No! You can’t-“ Colby scoffs, “not fair! Not fair!”

User8: Y/n wins!

User9: TEAM Y/N TEAM Y/N TEAM Y/N

User10: BAHAHAHAA THIS IS SO FUNNY

“Seeeee!” You point to the screen, “They say I win. I am the winner.” You look between Sam and Colby and you lean back, watching as Sam stands up, “I’ll be right back. I need another drink.”

“Get me one?” You ask and Colby chimes in, “I need one, too.”

Sam groans as he walks away but turns around to smile at you. You shake your head and look at Colby, “you should scare Sam when he comes back in.”

“How?” He asks with a laugh, “Oh!” He hangs over the back of the couch, flopping to the floor.

“What are you doing?” You look over the couch at Colby and he puts his finger to his lips, “I’m not here.”

You turn around laughing and your phone goes off. You lift it up and see that it’s a text from Sam.

I wish I could kiss you

You smirk at the text, typing back your reply.

I wish I could kiss you. You both look so good tonight.

You set your phone down and watch as Sam walks back into the room, handing you your drink. He looks around, “Where’d Co-“

“Raahhhh!” Colby jumped up from behind the couch, scaring both you and Sam.

“Jesus fuck- Colby!” Sam yells, “You almost got your drink served hard and fast.” He furrows his brows, slowly turning around to sit down next to you, “Wait I-“

You and Colby both die laughing and Sam shakes his head, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sam extends his arm out behind your head and you let out a sigh as you tilt your head back, “I think.. I need a nap.”

“A nap? It’s only..” Sam looks at his watch, “Seven.”

“So bedtime then.” You laugh and Colby scoffs, “You don’t want to keep this party going?”

You look at him and shrug, “Depends on where you wanna go, Colbs.”

“I have an idea.” Sam chimes in, “But I’m just- see you guys in the next one! Bye!”

You watch as Sam turns off the live, “You know they think-“

“Let them think what they want.” Sam plops back down next to you and grabs your face. He pulls you in for a kiss and leans back, “I’ve wanted to do that all fucking night.”

You turn to look at Colby who sits down next to you, “Your turn.” You smirk and reach up to cup his cheek, “Been wanting you all night, too.”

Colby leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade, but this alcohol kicked my ass.”

You and Sam nod, “Yeah.” You say as you nod, “I feel you on that one.”

“First one to wake up has to initiate it?” Sam tilts his head and you lean in, kissing his cheek, “You are so on.”

——

I hope you liked this! Thank you sooo much for reading! I love you all so much, and I’ll see you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[starlightazriel]

bee 9

series desc: modern best friends > lovers (fem reader) tattoo artist az

warnings: 18+, az acting crazy and toxic haha, arguing/angst, just the beginning of the groveling, simp behavior hahaha, drug/alcohol addiction, reader struggling, heart break, time jumps, aa, depression mess, az is literally falling apart at the seams, don't expect good decisions from reader lol she's hurting that's all ima say

a/n: wow I know I ain't shit this took me so long I'm sorry angst central too ik

wc: 3.8k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist <3

nine

"Say the word Bee, I'll knock on his door and knock him out." His jaw was tight, eyes dark with the desire to inflict pain. Real pain, sometimes that side of Azriel scared me, these days it would only make my panties wet.

"Im fine Az," I wiped tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, my chest tightened slightly at his willingness to put himself at risk for my naivety. "Hes not worth it anyway," I added, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Well that youre right about. Tried to tell you he didnt deserve you," he pauses, his face looking displeased. There's a moment of silence and it made me wish I had the courage to fill it with my feelings for him. "Please stop looking so sad though. Bings will help," he smirks, trying the only way he knew how to lighten the mood, he held up his bong, already freshly packed. I sighed softly, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my lips despite the ache I felt in my chest.

"Yeah they might," I smirk a little bit, and take the bong from him, taking one of my little baby hits, I shove the bong back in his direction, coughing obnoxiously despite the small hit. Normally he would make fun of me, I figured he was sparing me the embarrassment in light of the current situation.

"I can kick his ass," he repeats and I just shake my head at him. I didn't doubt it either— when it came to me, Az didn't have any limits. He would go down swinging for me, no matter who it was.

Thinking back on that memory... It made me feel sick, that now he was the one to hurt me.

I had made the mistake of trusting Azriel too much. I knew better. I knew he wasn't ready for this and still I let myself live in some little fantasy world for weeks. And now... Now I was dealing with the consequences.

My heart was shattered.

Incomparable to my insignificant couple of break ups in the past... This was so much worse.

Az... My Az. Maybe not my Az after all.

He clearly couldn't even handle a relationship.

Or maybe... The alternative made my stomach sink.

Maybe he knew the entire time that he was moving and he was just passing the time until he did? Az wouldn't do that... Would he?

You can know someone forever... As soon as there are drugs involved... Well, nothing is guaranteed.

It seemed to be just as hard for me to admit that he had a problem than it was for him. I hated it, but this pain— it made me see things more clearly, see him more clearly.

I couldn't bring myself to block him. I did have to turn my phone off for a while because not picking up was just becoming hard. 39 missed face time calls, 12 missed regular calls, and a handful of text messages that I was leaving on read.

baby please just talk to me

i'm so sorry shit was so fucking stupid

please come home

bee i swear i'll come over there and drag you out of that house by your hair

you know i didnt mean that

im sorry

i need you bee, don't shut me out

just talk to me

i'll stop drinking so much i'll do whatever please just fucking talk to me

cass is a fucking idiot nothing happened i swear baby i didn't fuck anyone.

The messages were spaced out minutes between some, hours between others. I couldn't help myself when I typed out a reply to the last one.

how do you know you didn't fuck anyone? do you even remember? You were getting your fucking grind on with a random ass bottle girl. or maybe she wasn't random lol who fucking knows with you. and you had your face in tits Az. Tits. WERE TOUCHING YOUR CHEEKS. AND YOU WERE SMILING LIKE YOU LOVED EVERY FUCKING SECOND. AND I BET YOU DID CUS YOU LOOKED HIGH OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND.

It was only seconds before he read it and was typing.

i didn't fuck anyone. i only want you. i'm just a dumbass. bro please do not do this shit to me. i will do ANYTHING to make this up to you that's on literally everything.

And another one.

you don't have a choice anyway and i swear if i catch you outside with any of these mother fuckers yo youre both done

And another.

its not a threat its a warning don't play with me

I groaned in frustration and tossed my phone to the side. It was all so... Exhausting. My chest quite literally hurt. And the audacity, please don't do this to him?

He did this to us.

And why the fuck did he think he owned me? I hated that it made my heart flutter— bottle girls, titties, Vegas. I reminded myself.

Sick.

I had confessed everything to my mom the first day I had came back to my parents house, which in hindsight I wished I hadn't. Knowing me... I would be back in Azriels bed within days of being back, my cheeks burned at the thought. No matter what he did, it didn't change the way I now knew how he could make me feel.

She had always loved Az, since day one... He had practically been a part of our family at one point, joining our family dinners every night, even my dad and him had a certain respect for each other. 'Some people are just better off as friends,' was my mom's response to the whole ordeal. Maybe she was right, but I didn't like it, not now.

How could we go back to that?

Was it possible to go back to that?

-

The stress, the heaviness of my heart... I couldn't stop myself from swiping a cig from my dad's secret stash in the garage. I was now sat on the rocking chair on my parent's front porch, debating on what I was going to do when I returned home. I had to go soon, it had already been weeks now I was starting to dip into my old wardrobe.

I had been commuting to class even though it was much farther than Azriel's apartment. I just didn't know what to say when I saw him. I didn't even know how to bring up the fact that I knew he was moving. Did he plan on telling me? What had been his plan for my living situation if he didnt have the apartment anymore? Had he even thought about it?

"So you're smoking now?" his voice causes me to jump, my heart nearly leaping from my chest as my head snaps to Azriel who's standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket other hand gripping a small bouquet of flowers. Scarred fingers against delicate stems, my cheeks turned pink remembering what he had done to me with those fingers. That feeling soon turned to anger remembering what he else he had done, he's frozen now, maybe half way up the stone path leading to my parents front door.

"Jesus Az what the fuck?" I breathed out, exhaling a shaky breath, my tone laced with a venom I had never used with him before. "You scared the fuck out of me, what are you even doing here?"

"You know what I'm doing here," his voice is soft but slightly strained, my stomach twists at the pain I can feel, radiating off of him. I didnt know how he did that, he was always able to change the air around me— like I was so hyper aware of him that I could sense his feelings.

"Az-"

"I love you," he cuts me off, my breath hitches, his cheeks are slightly pink, hand still shoved into his pocket. I set the burning cigarette down on the can beside me, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

So long.

I had waited to hear those words for so fucking long. And now, here, under these circumstances— it didnt feel how I imagined it would. It didnt feel how it was supposed to.

"I love you too Azriel you know I do but I-"

"But what? You dont want me because Im so fucked up right?" His voice drops slightly, his throat bobbing and I noticed his grip tighten on the bouquet in his hand. His face was soft— pained, and my heart cracked again, remembering that boy so many years ago bruised and bloody with that same heartbroken face of betrayal, and now I had done that to him. "Im sorry, Im so fucking sorry please—"

"I didn't say that," I mumbled, my heart felt like it was bleeding in my chest, like there would be nothing left once he walked away. He didn't dare to step closer. "I just- I need some time Az," I mumbled softly and he closed his eyes for a minute before tugging at his hair, huffing out a frustrated breath. He looked like he would get down on his knees for me, like he would beg me if I asked him to.

"I know what that means Bee," he huffs out another small breath, his face slowly contorting into that hard cold stare I knew him to hide behind. "Anyway," he breaths out, looking away from me. "I'm going to change your mind, we—" he struggles again before giving up, I could see his eyes were bloodshot as he got closer, dark circles prominently underlining them. "Here," he finally says, he shoves the bouquet in my hand, there was an envelope taped to the side of it with my name on it.

"I'm coming home soon Az," I mumble, though, I didn't even know if I was ready for the conversation the two of us would be having. "I told you we could talk then," I add and he sighs, stepping back off of the porch.

"I'll see you soon then," he muttered softly and just shrugged his shoulders, I could tell he wanted to run to me... He wanted to wrap me in his arms and kiss me. He wanted to strangle me also— I could see that too, that deep rooted need for control, to make me see things his way. I couldn't blame him— it stemmed from years of physical abuse, traumas I would never truly be able to understand.

"Go home Az. Goodnight, thank you, for the flowers," is the last thing I say before walking back inside shutting the door behind me, in his face. I didnt watch him walk away, that short conversation had been painful enough. I put the flowers in some water and tore open the mini envelope despite how angry I was with him.... Seeing him, made me crave him so much more.

'I could lose every single thing I have in this world but I can't lose you. I miss you. Please stop shutting me out. I can't take much more of this Bee.'

His handwriting was rushed— desperate messy scrawl, guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't help it... I had nothing to feel guilty about and yet... Imagining him alone, needing me, missing me... Enough to buy flowers and scribble out a little note. More than I'd ever seen him do for any other woman.

I couldn't fall for it.

My chest tightened and tears welled up in my eyes. Why did he have to fuck everything up? It had been so perfect. Leave it to a fucking man to ruin everything.

-

Azriel swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he stared blankly in front of him at all of the faces looking back at him. His palms were sweaty, ears hot with embarrassment and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. He had opted not to get up and stand at the front, feeling much more secure in his seat toward the back of the room.

"Hi, uh, my name is Azriel, I'm twenty five, and Im um— Im an alcoholic," it was the first time he'd ever said it out loud, it tasted horrible on his tongue. "I've um I've been addicted to drinking alcohol probably for about ten years- Got me into other- shit and I'm here today because I fell in love with my best friend and um- I don't want to lose her. Never tried to quit drinking before— never really believed I had a problem but— yeah, here I am," his voice had gotten quieter as he finished and he realized he was rambling. His cheeks burned, he hated all the eyes on him, hated that he was the center of attention. And he was craving a line, bad.

His introduction was followed by many 'Hi Azriels,' which only made him feel more uncomfortable. They tried to make him feel welcome, tried to relate to him— get him to open up. He thought he might explode but he listened though. He listened to each and every persons story that shared. And when it was over the leader gave him a small white chip, service, unity, recovery. A pledge to a new beginning, toward sobriety.

He sighed and shoved it into his pocket, he was sitting on the step now, to go coffee cup in his hand, black obviously. Isn't that what recovering alcoholics did? Drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes?

"Can I bum one?" a male voice asks and next thing he knows he's sitting down next to him, he was a bit older, maybe 40.

"Sure," he mutters and pulls a cigarette from the pack and extends it to him, he recognized him from inside the meeting.

"It's Max, if you didn't catch it in there."

"Azriel," he mumbles, looking straight ahead at the cars passing by. He didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to get sober. But he needed Bee. He couldn't lose her, after getting a taste? He couldn't handle not having her again. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You need a sponsor?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, Azriel shrugs, the new sobriety coin felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. The anxiousness... The insatiable desire to rid himself of any of his uncomfortable feelings by doing a line and buying a bottle... How the hell was he supposed to stay sane?

"You going to be my sponsor?"

"First things first, don't wear a cocaine vile around your neck to an AA meeting."

-

I was quiet, careful when I slowly pushed open the door to Azriels apartment, my apartment too, I guess. Not for long.

It didn't feel like home anymore— the sickening feeling that twisted in my gut as I took a step inside. It was quiet, he wasn't home... Fucking filthy. There was pizza boxes and take out containers, ash everywhere, multiple ash trays made from various things, there were unfinished cigs and blunts everywhere that made it smell awfully of cigarettes and stale weed. Cocaine residue and half crushed pills were out on the coffee table like it was normal. I swallowed thickly, a soft breath leaving my lips I knew I shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't feel bad that he obviously wasn't okay... But I did, I just left him. Never, never had I ever done that to Azriel. I was the one constant in his life, the one person who was always there. Ever since that day in front of my house all those years ago.

Titties, bottle girls, moving to Vegas. I reminded myself, my stomach turned again. So angry. Fucking idiot.

I entered the kitchen for a glass of water, needing something to calm that sick feeling. The bile that rose in my throat that felt like I was about to hurl everything I ate for the past three days. I thought better of it quickly, before I consumed anything from this rancid kitchen I would need to deep clean and disinfect.

Dirty dishes in the sink, the dishwasher hanging open half loaded still with clean dishes like he had just been taking them from there and hadn't bothered to put anything away, empty liquor bottles overflowing from the small recycling bin, more take out containers, a bong tipped over, the foul smelling water from it still dripping off of the counter, a small puddle of brownish water collected on the white tile.

What the fuck?

My room was the only room that didnt smell like bong water and cigarettes, but still, he had been in here. Maybe even slept in here. Papers covered the floor, not just papers but drawings. There were drawings of me everywhere. Just me, me naked, him and I together, kissing, fucking, our hands intertwined— there were even drawings of us when we were younger. A little messy, like he had been pressing down so hard— drawing with such emotion that he kept breaking his utensil of choice that day.

I let out a soft sob, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

Fuck.

Kat. I needed Kat.

I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat again and pulled my phone out to check her location. Of course she was at the shop.

-

"Hey," the bells chime softly as I walk into the shop, there was no one in the waiting room besides Kat and she looked up from her phone, our eyes locking.

"Heyyy baby," she greets, flashing me a smile that soon turns into a frown, her eyebrows drawing together. "Are you good?"

"No," I loosed a shaky breath, advancing to the counter, I leaned against it like I had so many times, but my chest was fucking aching. It was so fucking infuriating that nothing felt the same, nowhere felt the same. I guessed this was what heart break really felt like, seeing the world in every color one day and then black and white the next. "Is he here?" I dropped my voice lower, playing with one of the knick knacks on the desk to distract myself.

"No, he left a while ago, didnt say where he was going," she's still frowning, the worried look still plastered on her face.

"The house Kat?" I paused, making a face. "It's fucking disgusting, I don't understand how hes living like that," my harsh words could have only been brought on by anger, she softens, her look turning more sympathetic which annoys me only, I ignore it.

"He hasn't been the best at work either— snapping on everyone, late every day and fucked up," she lets out a small sigh, "Rhys is fucking pissed," she pulls her lip between her teeth.

"Fuck Rhys, honestly," I mutter quietly, she raises an eyebrow in response but I only ignore it. Of course, none of this was his fault, but still Vegas. Why fucking Vegas? "It's my turn to get fucked up, anyway, that's why I'm here I bought a bottle to pregame, just needed my bitch and one of her miniskirts," my words are met with a grin.

"Babes you know I got you."

-

I hadn't been drunk in a while, so to say the least I was enjoying myself. The pounding of the music, talking to strangers, dancing with Kat. I had needed all of this.

To slip out of my mind for a few hours and just let go.

Kat was definitely enjoying herself now too, and was dancing with some tall sexy man she had just met. I was keeping to myself for the most part, on the edge of the dance floor, swaying my hips to the music as I surveyed the scene with a fuzzy mind.

My mouth popped open in slight surprise and when I felt curiosity instead of the desire to leave immediately, I knew I had drank too much. There was Eris, in all his jewelry and expensive clothes, looking poised and composed as always. Long pale ringed fingers wrapped around a glass of amber liquid. I hadn't seen him since the night we shared.

"You ghosted me princess."

"I had other things going on— and I didnt finish," I smile boredly, not meeting his gaze, it must have been the liquor making me so bold, he scoffs slightly his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Let me buy you a drink then, to make up for it, must have been an off day for me," he inquires, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that my body was basically broken with anyone except for Azriel, I would let him believe it was his fault. His ego could be taken down a peg, anyway.

"I have one already," I raise it up slightly, smirking as I swirl the liquid around in the cup.

"Not anymore," in a swift motion he takes the glass from my hand and dumps the drink in a near by plant, a fake plant. I squeaked, looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's fake and you just filled it with liquor and juice! Have you even heard of a fruit fly?" I demanded, swaying a bit on my feet, liquor buzzing through my veins. If anyone did that at my bar, I scoffed slightly at the thought staring him down judgmentally for his utter carelessness.

"It's fake, so the liquor won't kill it," he flashed me his insufferable sexy grin before adding "there's wins and losses to every decision we make," his eyes flashed and I stopped for a moment, weighing those words.

No, I can't get caught up in this. I had to figure out what was going on with Azriel and I. "And now you don't have a drink and I get to buy you one, so I win, Im not really concerned nor do I care about any of the losses. Besides, I only ever come here looking for you, so I don't care if they get fruit flies." That cocky smirk he wore, the way he carried himself... He did look good. That piercing gaze, the confidence that radiated off of him along with his expensive dizzying cologne.

I remembered what Az had said about him 'theres a lot of people that would kill him in this city' hearing his words echo in my head, knowing how much he hated that I'd been with Eris... I swallowed, my cheeks turning pink.

Az didnt care when he was fucked up, when he was smushing his face between those two bottle girls titties he didnt think about me at home— waiting for him.

So I wouldn't care now.

I didnt think about him, I didnt think about what it would do to him when I wrapped my fingers up into Eris expensive shirt and yanked his tall frame down to me.

"Wins and losses you say?" I whisper before pressing a kiss to his lips.

-

a/n: cliffhangerrr only time and comments will tell if yalll are mad about this drama HAHA sorry I had to drag the groveling out into multiple parts Az WILL be on his KNEES in the near future

taglist <3: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies

IF ANYONES TAG DIDNT WORK IM SO SORRY

[mono-dot-jpeg]

bad decisions - i. sae, b. meguru & m. reo

summary; let's make some bad decisions.

genre/extra tags; rambling post?/scenarios???, fluff but not really, diet fluff, and diet angst, late night thoughts combined with day light thoughts, might be ooc

a/n; im gonna go out on a limb here and say you dont want yandere obsessive tendencies in the relationship (i dont write yandere bc i hate that trope and i dont understand the appeal). i only did three bc this was all i can think of, im so sorry- hope you enjoy this either way. thank you for requesting and for your patience.

i think we all saw this coming when i say, sae probably gotta have some odd habits and thoughts when it comes to being a relationship. he's precise and serious in his soccer, and that bleeds into his relationships. it has nothing to you, no, not when he's so used to seeing into every detail and every possibility. he keeps trying to predict what you will do, and then you surprise him when it's not what he expected. most of the time, this happens when you're just doing something without much thought. he gets kind of weird about it though, he just blue-screens and had to take a moment before asking what is wrong with you because you didn't do the thing he expected. you have to tell him that this is just how you are, and he refuses to be outsmarted by his partner when he's usually the one with the brain cell between you two.

he feels the need to check on you a lot because he doesn't express it outright. he observes you like he's in a game match. it's cute at first but then you realize, "oh god he's really paying attention a little too well..."

he hates if you ever even try to interact with rin. he is one jealous little shit. if he's in a good mood [which is hard to tell with him], you have like a higher chance of talking to rin. but most days, he's keeping you away from him.

bachira is unpredictable and he's crazy. he loves you a lot. and i mean a lot. he's extremely clingy towards things he cherishes and that probably stems from the lack of friends he had back then and he's just scared to lose you. but sometimes he really impedes on the day-to-day routine. he needs reassurance when you're gone. he texts you a lot. very standard clingy person.

he feels the need to be a guard dog. he's possessive but not in the way sae would be with his jealously. no, bachira is possessive but he's confident that he will keep you protected from others. but also he loves to wreak havoc so he likes being loud about being clingy and protective. it can get overwhelming.

i'm gonna be real, this one is short because bachira's traits could probably be pretty amplified in a relationship and honestly, i would go as far as to think that most of his traits would just be either better or worse in a relationship.

overbearing. that should be enough to explain it.

he's got a weird complex with him. at least that is what i think. he really stuck with nagi a lot, and i think he would do the same in a romantic relationship. he's gotten too used to coddling nagi and he does the same to you. he spoils you. and it's great at first, but it can be a lot at once. and honestly i think he feels the need to compensate for something. what is the thing he's compensating for? i don't know, but he gives me those "compensating for something with money" vibes.

i think it's safe to say that all the boys have a pride to uphold and reo is no different. he hates being inactive. he wants to help you all the time. and i mean all the time. he wants to be useful but he goes at it terribly. he wants to be relied on.

is it crazy to say that i think reo is the worst out of the three here? probably but whatever.

[heartpascal]

or is it loneliness?

▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.

▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear

▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!

MASTERLIST , part one

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.

While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.

Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.

At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.

Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.

It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.

The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.

Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.

But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.

No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.

“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.

She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.

You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.

“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.

“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”

You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.

“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.

“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.

“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”

She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.

The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.

“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.

Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.

“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.

“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.

“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”

“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”

Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?

You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.

“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.

“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.

The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.

“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.

“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.

“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”

Who are you to deny her that?

Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧��∘

It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.

Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?

You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.

But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.

You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.

Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.

You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.

If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.

“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”

You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”

That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.

She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.

“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.

Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.

“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.

There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.

The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.

Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.

You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.

Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.

She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.

You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.

“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”

“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.

“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”

Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.

You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.

“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.

“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”

Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.

You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”

You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.

It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.

She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.

The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.

Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.

Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.

It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.

Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.

The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.

Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.

It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.

That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.

Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.

He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.

“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”

“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.

You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.

A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.

“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”

Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?

Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”

With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.

Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.

“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”

“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.

Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”

He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.

Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.

“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”

“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.

“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”

You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.

Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.

“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.

You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.

While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?

Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.

The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.

Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.

Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.

Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.

But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.

The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.

Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.

When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.

Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.

Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.

That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.

Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.

You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.

“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.

You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.

All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.

Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.

Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.

Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.

Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”

He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.

The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.

You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.

The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.

You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.

“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.

Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?

“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.

Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.

Who do these people think they are?

You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.

The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.

“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.

“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.

“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”

“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”

Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?

Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”

“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.

You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.

You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.

After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.

“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.

“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”

You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.

You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.

“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.

“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”

You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.

“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?

“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”

For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?

“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.

Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”

“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.

There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”

“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.

You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.

All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.

[haerni]

COULD’VE BEEN ──── 이희승 . the past is a blur, reality was harsher than it usually is. how deep does one could ever love a person?

. . genre : exes w lingering feelings · fem reader hurt comfort time motifs · word count : 1869 . notes . . im in love with heeseung lately </3

you love lee heeseung—you loved him, you did.

there was no denying it, he was an amazing boyfriend—perfect, even. your break up wasn't something you could call a bad ending, far from it. it was a mutual decision on both of you, it was something you both agreed on despite everything.

three years was all it took, three wonderful years of your life, three of it that you would come to treasure in the years to come. coming to terms of remaining as friends instead of strangers, your friends were even more bewildered. because really, who would still be friends with their ex? who would even want that?

“you still have feelings for him,” sunoo pointed out. “don’t deny it!” he shoots as quickly as you try to open your mouth with a quick retort with the high possibility of denying it, he surmised.

“i don’t have feelings for him, thank you very much.” you dismissed, getting back to what you were doing. “we’re really just friends now, acquaintances if you will.”

he narrows his eyes on you, not believing a word you say, but he lets it go with a puff shaking his head.

“you know what they say about exes staying friends. either you never loved each other at all, or you still have feelings—either way you’re not fooling me.” he says a matter of fact, helping himself in your fridge taking the mint chocolate.

you find your friend’s deduction to be ridiculous.

sometimes you catch yourself thinking of how he's doing. is he eating well? still staying up late until dawn because of his games? winning his league games? a small smile makes its way to your face at the same memories you share, somehow a bittersweet taste comes with it, yet it's still tucked away somewhere where your other moments lie, shaking your head away from it as quickly as it came. letting the thought simmer away to the backs of your mind.

lee heeseung was a fond memory you keep, but nonetheless he was just a memory still.

love was something you held for lee heeseung before, you don't really know what to call it now. maybe you wouldn't love someone for a long time as you have loved lee heeseung.

after all, what you knew as your greatest love was too great to be forgotten at all.

—

love was bound to find its way to you again, heeseung thinks.

you were like a force of nature that comes like you belong to everything, to every good little thing heeseung can ever name of. like everything was made to be the way it is just for you

—and somehow he also used to believe he was also made just for you.

that was before the fallout. now he believes that maybe after pining over you for many years and being your friend just the same, maybe this was where he should've always been. not to hold you like lovers do, not to kiss you as much as a friendship does not require, and definitely not to have you in any way that would be deemed more than what relationship you had returned to.

just friends. nothing more, nothing less.

it's useless, though. the glass in his hands is cold. misery was rather more of a warm company to heeseung, too familiar even. the lights at the bar were dimmed down adding more somber to the mood, and it is like the universe is playing some sort of twisted tricks on him. just to remind how hollow it is, how the world was actually big, it's too cold—it's lonely.

everything was becoming too much and not enough all the same.

drinking was never a good idea, it never was for heeseung. you'd always tell him that he gets so lost in it that he forgets just how many he downs and it leaves him away into the night with a smile and fits of giggles that are contagious and slurred words that he always tries to utter.

it's stupid, he was stupid.

but atleast he had you then, the one who would take care of him if he has one of too many or maybe crawl up into his lap when he's gaming away into the night and you'd just do it because you'd rather have his warmth near you than settle with the thought of having him in the same room. or times when you would just run up to him and like it's engraved in his veins to have you in his arms and hold you like forever was never enough of a time to describe how much he wants you. forever was too less of a time, a life with you would be more and to those other lives he will get to have you seems more promising.

forever is too much of a word for lee heeseung. if your lives were to part, may he always find you in the next and the comings. for him to never take another heart that does not belong to you. may lee heeseung love you to every time, to be born in the same universe as you, the same time, the same place.

three lifetimes, three wonderful lives you both had, and he thinks it is simply not enough.

he begs the heavens to let him be made just for you once more. because forever in one, will never be something to call what you have.

eternity suits you better, he thinks.

—

the night strolls, the stars are twinkling with the hopes of catching an eye.

this night feels a little more dreadful than the last. the drink he had down a few minutes ago keeps him warm in the night, setting itself in his stomach. heeseung has spent away the after hours this way, a routine that has eaten him alive to its core. it's not an ideal lifestyle, but he continues anyway.

he strolls without a place in mind, after all he has lost home once and wherever you are, his heart resides.

you are everything that heeseung has prayed for.

as familiar buildings meet his eyes and it brings back some memories he had kept away. treacherous. suddenly he finds himself in your street, a few blocks away from where you are. he can knock, he can ask you, he can stay, but he was a stranger altogether. so, the best thing heeseung takes rather than doing all of those things? was to sober up and leave.

mortality has never been kind to him. and everything he has kept in his heart was torn from its home and never to be returned like the sands that slithers away from the storm.

and he had begged at everything that would hear him. because the sand had gone out of the hourglass too soon than what he had always hoped for. time has never been his friend, after all, what time would be fond of something going against it? fate was too cruel to you. but you had embraced it just the same.

how could he ever subject you to the same fate once more? a string tied to you or not, he would rather see you with the colors of life.

and as if this time—for once, mercy has taken pity on him. because as his heel turns he hears the front door of your home, and he shouldn't look, he shouldn't stop, he should go. but you're just still you, right? the always loveable you.

“heeseung?”

oh how he has missed your voice.

against his very judgement he turns around.

there you are by the porch of your home wrapped in a blanket protecting you from the chills of the night and you seem comfortable, you always are. he stops just as his mind tells him the opposite (how could lee heeseung ever say no to your very being?).

and he couldn't stop—heeseung has loved you for a very long time and it feels like it's the only language he can speak to answer your call.

you descend down on your stairs, with a small shy walk on your feet towards him. he feels dizzy, have you always been this pretty?

he tries to say something, anything, but you seem to knock the air out of his chest every time, he releases a breath he's been holding, “hey.”

if you knew better you think heeseung seemed to be full of life when he is with you, like a flower who basks in the sun. you don't know what to say to him, is there any words to describe whatever you were feeling? he knew everything about you, he read you like a diary he has memorized all his life, when words fail you, heeseung comes to answer it.

you couldn't really remember now why you broke up, too many talks, too many faults, too many problems that pile up as time wanes. but you missed him, you miss him too much now to remember why.

“it’s cold,” he begins. its obvious, but what could he possibly tell you?

it's weird now, his eyes are still the same and yet you find yourself wanting it just the same, “yeah, it is.”

silence passes you, it's not uncomfortable, it's not heavy—you're relieved.

“i should probably go.” he should, but is it a sin to say you want him to stay? you pursed your lips in contempt, you should say something.

heeseung may claim to be someone who keeps his words, but right now his feet feel heavy, like his anchored to where he stands—in front of you. he waits for you to utter anything to him, a small hope of you stopping him. to make it feel it was okay to want you like this, to be in your presence.

the silence beckoned you to speak before you can even think of it. “it’s already late..” it's embarrassing, almost as if you were too left open in his eyes again, “..you can stay, if you'd like.”

a second clock and a pin drop, heeseung adorned a soft smile on his lips and as if he was on the same wavelength as you he utters words he thought he couldn't ever tell you, “i missed you.”

“i know,” and it's not obnoxious, it's a truth that you know well, its a fact that you know deep in your bones, “i missed you too.”

and everything was happening in the blink of an eye, his arms are around you and he breathes your scent in. despite the blanket around you, his warmth burns more and you love it—some things just never change.

lee heeseung will never meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you in that lifeline. your first life together would always be a mystery to the both of you. he misses you, more than he remembers.

he hopes he doesn't lose you again.

“i’ve got a lot to pine about. i’ve got a lot to live without. so rest well, hm? we’ll see each other again.”

—excerpt from (1500’s), A Hundred Years And A Lifetime, letters of Evan Lee to his wife by a Nameless Laureate poet.

[twost3ps]

This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

[nitrowyverine]

I thought playing Obscura would help me get rid of my brain worms. no, it just gave me new ones. For Obscura, specifically.

I'll be adjusting the format from my TOUCHSTARVED expanded thoughts post. Brain dump after the cut!

[Demo/CH 1 spoilers are included]

(Header Image from Itch.io page! All images in this post are either from there or the Rotten Raccoons tumblr page)

Design/gameplay thoughts:

In full honesty without fluff: this game fucks immensely.

The setting for Obscura might be my new all-time favorite, like, ever. Mystery underground scandalous marketplace??? Under a mountain???? it's a diverse and vast city that's still elegantly contained and claustrophobic, but in a spicy way. The worldbuilding and flavor is excellent. I really want to run a TTRPG in a similar setting now, since its an area with so many possibilities.

CH. 1/the "demo" has a LOT of meat on it. It's got different endings, variations, a whole soundtrack. Speaking of sountrack-

Obscura is also one of the few games I've put on the soundtrack to just to vibe to. The soundtrack is SO good, and sets such a strong mood/tone. I think it complements the game perfectly.

Allot of people have mentioned it, but I am also a fan of the Safeword pause menu. It's a nice and comforting touch, especially when the game can get so intense. It lets players take a breather if they need it, but also doesn't interrupt the intensity/mood of the game for someone who doesn't want a break from the narrative.

Now, onto character specific thoughts!

Cirrus:

IN MY HOUSE WE DON'T BELIEVE IN NOT STARTING OUT STRONG

Shout outs for having your asexual option in the dating sim be. The kinkiest guy there

Cirrus is a bit too intense for me, however, that is NOT a bad thing in the slightest. I think his route is well done for those who are up for his brand of intensity.

I might still play his route because. damn this boy's issues got me curious about his backstory. ($10 on mommy issues)

I had the hardest time getting to Cirrus's good end during my playthrough because having pretty much any self-preservation instinct around Cirrus gives you a bad/neutral ending. He's the only one I had to pull the guide out to get the best ending. (I think I'm just too sassy)

I get medusa vibes from Cirrus. The snake imagery is more likely tied to the lunar church, but his staunch reluctance to take his own mask off makes me wonder (this is mainly referenced in asks answered by the Rotten Raccoon studios). Refusal to let people see his eyes + snakes + power + slightly unnatural abilities to influence is, something.

I am shaking this man like a snowglobe WHAT IS YOUR DEAL I MUST KNOW MORE

(I am. metaphorically shaking him like a snowglobe. I would never shake this man im terrified)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to shame you for your anime choices. Least likely to be normal about it when you ask for help peeling an orange.

Keir:

HERE COMES BIG MAN

yeah he's tied for favorite right now. the slow burn in his plot is just too good? big man....freckles...secret soft side...im weak

he's so nice I keep forgetting. He kind of kidnaps you? not even kind of he just drags you off the street and goes "you live in my house now". Even Griff calls MC a stray early on. My man really said "Here's a convenient lost human I'm dragging them home now"

oh my GOD they were ROOMATES

I definitely was too nice to him in my first playthrough until I realized he does need (and want) to be sassed to death.

this man is like 6'6 and the canon-ish Vesper height from the CG is 5'4. THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. This kills the man (me)

The sprite of Keir's ears blushing SENDS ME INTO A FRENZY

I quite liked the gameplay style of Keir's route. I was so focused and invested as soon as I realized I needed to remember specific directions to save the heist group during timed decisions

Something I haven't seen discussed yet: I'm mega curious about the dagger Keir has on his outfit. It's specifically pointed out in text that it's high-quality, and I vaguely remember an ask that Rotten Raccoons answered that said it's a status symbol. (The dagger also just looks SO cool. and....it looks like Francesco's...?)

(My bet is that he either 1. stole it. or 2. got it from Oleander during their tryst (WHICH WE ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT-))

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be gifted a "WORLD'S BEST DAD" mug from his similarly-aged peers. Least likely to live down that one time he ate soap because he thought it was edible.

Francesco:

someone keep the "silver dust" away from this lad im scared

Originally, I was least looking forward to playing Francesco's route since I just wasn't interested in his initial concept. After playing his route though? It was excellently done, and I genuinely had fun. It was refreshing to have a character more naive than Vesper, so more cultural aspects were explained and we got a good alternate perspective on the marketplace. Also, it got REAL spicy in new and exciting ways the other chapters didn't. I'm really looking forward to the next chapters with his route!

I totally love the contrasts in his design and his character. He's got both bright red and blue highlights in his design, his outfit is very pointy and angular while his hair/smile is soft and flow-y.

And in his personality, he's both sweet and open, but extremely cagey about some information, and quite pragmatic when he wants to be. I think he's way smarter than he lets on.

that doesn't mean I don't want to bridal carry him and tuck him into bed at night after a all-nighter party

I do think Fran's slightly looser demeanor could lead to him being even more brutal than the other LI's. Remember that one anime clip (Found it, it's this one from Danshi Koukousei) where a group of friends wants to fight for fun, but one of the friends asks why they need rules in a fight? And said friend is shown like secretly holding a rock and was ready to use it? that's Fran. He would not have chill and does not heed the rules.

"Protect the boy", but mostly to prevent him from tasting blood. Because if that happens we're all fucked

CONCLUSION: Most likely to eat that M&M off the ground because you dared him. Least likely to beat the puppy allegations.

Oleander:

Oleander is tied for favorite with Keir. Oleander is just *chefs kiss* LOOK AT HIM. inscrutable......

Somewhere in an ask answered by Rotten Raccoons studio, they mentioned that for Oleander's route, they were going for a "Sexy boss situation that doesn't feel like a work safety violation". They hit that right on the nose; there's intrigue and a power imbalance, but in a non-restrictive or terrifying way.

I love being involved in the business part of his route. I keep making decisions like "Hmm yes my primary goal is to romance Oleander. But what would be the smartest business move here? How do we advance our agenda?"

Also, I do love playing a sexy evil secretary in a vn. love having a job and being evil at it AND being paid money. 10/10

That dance scene is everything I could have ever wanted no notes

I am fascinated to find out more about what he's been up to since his last trek into the marketplace. Seems like people are trying to kill him all the time anyway, so what would be enough to cause him to leave?

he's like an angler fish, but the lure is his booba

I relate to Oleander in that. I have too many online usernames because I can't stick with one. People get my 800 online names mixed up often. He has the same problem, we're basically twinsies

This man is pretending to be a himbo like his life depends on it (It probably does). He's too smart though, I know for a fact he has at least three different schemes going at any given time.

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be able to help you properly lace a corset (this man knows the boot-to-the-back necessity of the process). Least likely to be allowed to be banker during monopoly night.

Vesper:

black mask enjoyer 4 life

(all three are good I just wanted to say which one I picked. And to add my conclusion section)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to get their shit rocked by a falling piano. Least likely to survive an argument about pineapple on pizza.

Concerns:

With how separate the four routes are, the game could potentially feel like four separate visual novels all in one universe. Maybe I haven't played enough VN's, but there is a feeling of separation between the routes.

In the very beginning of the game, when you're picking your route, I wish there was a bit more heads up/information between who you're picking. For example, I had a rough idea that going into the church is where you'd find Cirrus, but only from information outside the game. I didn't know sticking around for the brawl would push you into Kier's route. It's overall pretty vague to which route you're going based on only in-game information.

Misc thoughts:

Vesper: "How are you going to keep me?? ;)" Keir and Oleander: "crimes" Vesper: "Wh-" Keir and Oleander: "you're an accomplice now congrats we're in this together. wanna get drinks"

catch my socially anxious ass wanting to be under the mountain and wear masks so I don't have to make eye contact with strangers all the time. at least its a fun thought to have when I mask for covid

OKAY FRANCESCO AND KEIR'S DAGGER MATCH? AND ARE RED/BLUE LIKE FRANCESCOS OUTFIT? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING??? probably not but I do like the pretty knives....

For real, I got the brain worms for this game, I'm on the edge of making a big ol playlist. the headcannons? They go on my friend. they go on. I'm laying awake at night thinking about what each character would order at a coffee shop

by the time I publish this post. I did start working on the playlist

yes, I've also designed my own vesper, its such a prime opportunity for character design.

Obscura also may or may not have inspired me to get involved with an otome jam game team, more on that in the future possibly.....

OVERALL: I got the first chapter/demo of Obscura for free from Itchio/steam. High marks for writing, sound, art, game design, all of it! I am on the edge of my seat waiting for CH2.

TL;DR: If you haven't played it, and love spicy and dark stories, go play it! Part one is free! and fantastic.

Itch.io

Steam

[roslynvb]

WHAT ARE THEIR TOXIC TRAITS?

(GENDER NEUTRAL READER AS ALWAYS<3)

Mizu

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pushes you away, overprotective

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Mizu does not want to lose you, or get too attached. it’s a difficult decision for her and she hates herself for pushing you away so much

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Mizu believes you would be better off, but she knows that she wouldn’t be.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚no matter how much you try to get her to open up, it’s going to take her a long time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Mizu feels as if anyone could take you from her, she can’t stand the thought of it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚she worries about you, day and night. Whether you’re asleep next to her, or somewhere else with Ringo or Taigen.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Mizu likes to keep her eye on you, or have someone she trusts with you.

TAIGEN

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚jealousy, envy

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚taigen loves you more than anything, seeing you talking with someone else no matter who it is, makes his heart feel all weird.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚although taigen knows that you wouldn’t cheat on him or any of the sort, he has his doubts.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚if you ask him about it or tell him to knock it off, he’ll bite back with a cocky remark, trying to keep his own ego up

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚taigen doesn’t like to know that you’re better at something that he is passionate about

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚he gets bitter, and works even harder to be better than you

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚he snaps whenever you tease him about something he’s passionate about when you’re better than him at that specific thing. Of course he doesn’t mean to be this way, he loves you. And is proud of you whenever you accomplish something. He can’t help it either way.

AKEMI

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚anger, ignores you, guilt trip

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚sometimes, akemis anger gets the better of her. She lashes out at you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚akemi will ignore you when she’s angry, and will not come to you until she’s ready

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚which could be awhile..

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚if you even try to speak to her just for a second she will walk past you like your just a servant.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚if you do something that akemi does not like, she will use some kind of excuse to pull you away from it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚she won’t go overboard as she has her own limits, but she’ll try to persuade you as much as she can.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚akemi was lucky enough to be with you, and she wants to take advantage of that. her father could never allow it, so she’s trying to be the best she can.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚she loves you, and can be overbearing sometimes, but she definitely has her good moments.

(HI POOKIES!! It’s currently 2 am and I am so glad I got this done😭 anyways I hope you guys are doing well…I lowkey can’t believe the amount of attention my writing has been getting and I’m so grateful for it…to those who celebrate, happy early thanksgiving!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS IM DYING)

[ashipiko]

WHATS THIS? ASHI HAS APPEARED W A NEW TWST OC? CRAZY!!!!! <3 introducing niko cimarron!!!

FEEL FREE TO COME INTO MY INBOX AND TALK ABOUT HIM BTW IT WOULD SOOO HELP ME DEVELOP HIM 🫶

“What’s it now, Carrots? Got yourself in another mess?”

INFO UNDER CUT!

• HE KINDA??? IS MAGICLESS? while in NRC. THE MAGIC SCHOOL.

• 😭😭 you may be wondering how exactly. he doesn’t know either. I FEEL LIKE MIRACULOUSLY HE DID IT AS A JOKE AND SOMEHOW GOT INTO NRC????? as for the entrance ceremony IM STILL WORKING ON IT but magicless fox boy. OK

• <3 scarabia 2nd year!! he vibe checked himself and was like “yk what this one is convincing enough” and here we are

• he doesn’t necessarily LIE despite people sayin that he does all the time 🤔🤔 more so that he’s really good w his words and he just kinda dodges questions in a creative way 🫶 does this sound familiar

• rumor has it he’s made out w azul once and no one knows if it’s actually true or not </3

• everytime he sells his little “pawpsicles” outside of montro lounge (like RIGHT outside) and Azul tries to kick him out he pulls the “oh I GET IT you’re just salty I’ve moved on aren’t you” and suddenly it’s like no one believes Azul 😭😭 ITS KINDA FUNNY

• the tweels LOVE him because of how entertaining he is espec w azul!!! THEY SUPPORT NIKO WRONGS!!!!

• best friend is crowley FR I feel like azul’s TRIED to talk to him about niko but he’s just “a student trying to make a profit. much like you, ashengrotto!” so it doesn’t work. AZUL OUT HERE STRUGGLING

• as for relations w the prefect I FEEL LIKE THEYD BE A LOT LIKE NICK AND JUDY. considering the fact that’s he’s also a magicless student in a magic school I can see a small scene where it’s like “you’re not alone, all right? hey— that doesn’t mean you can run off telling everyone, carrots.” BUUUT. he kinda has issues

• trying to keep up the act of him seemingly having magic because he doesn’t want to be exposed as a phony at NRC……. he doesn’t wanna give into that fox/playboy stereotype and now he’s kinda in this big mess of a lie that he can’t get himself outta 😔 so I imagine telling the prefect is a whole big thing with vulnerability

• he doesn’t care too much about the other guys at nrc but w the prefect who’s given him a chance to be smth more than just a flirt or playboy or scammer he’s kinda scared to tell them he’s been lying to their face this whole time. YK? HES JJST A LITTLE GUY!!!! 🫶 he’s attached to the prefect whether he’d admit it or not <3

• DID I MENTION HE KINDA HAS A PLAYBOY PERSONA?

• ALSO W CALLING THE PREFECT “CARROTS” I can imagine a scene at lunch where he meets the prefect and he’s like “oh you must really like carrots, huh? there’s a bunch on your plate” and yuu gets the decision of either “no, I hate carrots” or “yes, I love carrots!” and either way he goes “huh. well, carrots is your name now~”

[nerdysleepybunny]

Hallo! im new here so please let me know if i cross any boundries.'

anywho, I was wondering if i could request a platonic philza and/or techno comfort? ive had bad few days :(

Have a wonderful day/night!

I APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING TO THIS SO LATE!! I literally love dsmp asks even though the fandom is dying off, so this definitely isn’t crossing any boundaries! I hope you’re doing better. My dms are open if you ever need to chat! :D

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Fandom(s): DreamSMP

Character(s): Philza, Technoblade (ft. Mumza & Chat)

Reader: Gender neutral (you/your)

Style: Hcs

TW: N/A

Summary: How Philza and Technoblade (separate) would comfort you!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Philza:

I feel like he’s the type to just know you aren’t doing well before you even say anything.

Like, you’re just sitting there in your feels, then suddenly?

BOOM CONCERNED DAD RIGHT IN YOUR FACE

“Are you okay, mate?”

“Do you need anything?”

“Here, let’s sit and have a chat.”

Literally shooing chat away so it’s just the two of you having quality time together.

Would sit down next to you on a couch, but probably wouldn’t initiate any touching. The most I see him doing is a shoulder pat or a hand rubbing your back.

Of course, he wouldn’t mind you leaning on him or embracing him! He just doesn’t want to touch you in case you want your space :)

If you want to talk about it he’s there to listen and offer wise old man advice (if you call him old while you’re upset, it’s the ONE time he won’t get defensive about it)

Like

He’s just talking giving you some advice about your problems, then he hears you snickering

“What’s so funny?”

“You sound so old right now, Phil.”

Usually he’d shout his usual “I’M NOT OLD/I’m only in my 30’s, mate…” (I’m pretty sure he’s canonically thousands of years old but shh let grandpa be delusional)

But now? He’d just chuckle and shake his head

“Whatever you say, mate.”

DON’T EXPECT HIM TO BE SOFT FOREVER, IT’S ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE CURRENTLY SAD

After you’ve concluded your venting/told him that you don’t want to talk about it

You know what time it is…

DISTRACTIONS!!!

Pillow fort anyone? He’s giving pillow fort vibes.

He’s a dad, so obviously he’d just do all the work and build it for you. Again, only because you’re sad. Any other time he’d yell at you for not helping.

Speaking of sadness

Don’t let Phil’s wife see you sad…

OH NO YOU’RE SAD? NOW MUMZA IS SAD AND IS RUSHING TO COMFORT YOU

Mumza is the type to cry when she sees someone else crying, so now both of you are just sobbing together and Phil is there trying to comfort the two of you but is an overwhelmed old man and may end up crying himself

Uh… cry party?

Either you all end up making fun of each other for crying which results in you all laughing together, or you just cry till you get sleepy and pass out on the floor together.

What an interesting way to family bond.

Technoblade:

So you seek The Blade for comfort, the most monochrome and nonchalant man on the server. What a wonderful decision, reader! /lh (I’d do the exact same)

If you’re a Technoblade fan you’ve definitely heard the “it’s fine” audio.

Now I can either be wholesome and say he’d hold you close and whisper that everything will be okay to you

Or I can be silly and realistic and say that he’d pull out a phone and just play the audio with a blank face, but is laughing on the inside due to your “what the actual fuck” face.

Okay now for some actual comfort!

As we all know… Technoblade isn’t exactly good at comfort.

He kills orphans for a living, how do you think he’d react seeing someone crying like a child?

He’s standing looking at you with a look of “why is this creature screaming” and “wtf do I do”

“Uh… you good? You okay? You, uh… need a hug…?”

Very awkwardly holds his arms out for a hug, and if you accept, he even more awkwardly pats your back.

If you got his shirt wet with tears, he’d DEFINITELY comment about it

“Are you seriously ruining my shirt? How are my enemies supposed to think I have a good fashion sense now?!”

Goes into a rant about how he needs to look his best and how it’s a good strategy to beat his enemies in battle while you’re kinda just there… honestly are you even crying anymore?

You’ve stopped crying ages ago, and he’s still just talking

In conclusion, Technoblade is good at calming people down without even trying (I was literally having a breakdown and all I needed to do was listen to the silly pig man talk about Greek mythology. It must all be part of his master plan…)

Speaking of listening to his voice, here’s a scenario.

“Technoblade, can you read to me?”

“…what?”

“Read to me.”

“I’m not reading you a bedtime stor-“

“I wanted you to tell me about Greek mythology.”

“Fine. Come here.”

Long story short, he starts by reading you just one story. That one story turns into the entire history of the Greek gods and goddesses… yeah you pass out pretty quickly. But Technoblade isn’t one to stop mid-ramble. Once he notices you’re asleep, he’ll continue talking, just quieter. He’ll eventually get sleepy himself, and soon enough… you’re both asleep.

Works like a charm!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

[tombxynxtdoor]

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Here are the rules 👇✨️

You can call me Stretch. I'm 33, I'm a happily married woman. So please respect my boundaries that I'm about to lay the fuck out.

•I'm ♡MARRIED♡

•I love the block button

• I love a good conversation

• I have a life outside of this hell site. So if I don't answer messages right away, don't take it personal.

•I will not post nudes or lewds, as there are plenty to go around here. So don't ask.

• I don't have onlyfans, so please don't bother asking. Just read here, and you'll know 🙃 also I don't sell any spicy pics, so please don't ask. BUT I WILL SHARE MY MUTUALS CONTENT BECAUSE WE SUPPORT CONTENT CREATORS ON MY BLOG. They're human too.

• I don't put up with peoples bullshit so keep it to yourself, or I'll happily put you in your place.

• I'm okay with making friends, I'm fine with compliments.

• I'm here to simply express myself, whether it be something I'm going through, have gone through, or just wanna shit post.

• I'm going through some changes and life decisions that only benefit me.

• I will not be giving out my snapchat anymore, it's too much and annoying, please don't ask.

• ☆fun fact I'm a milf with kids.☆ No you can't see none of them or ☆my husband☆

•RESPECT MY BOUNDARIES OR GET FUCKED. 💅

• anons are welcome

• Yes my attitude has changed, and I need to make these boundaries for a reason.

• I'm a Capricorn OF COURSE IM AN ASSHOLE

• we can all agree to disagree.

• COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE ALL WELCOME, NO NEED TO ASK. my notifications will be off, so my phone doesn't blow up, so SPAM LIKES ARE WELCOME.

• PUT YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO THIS IS IMPORTANT. It ain't that hard, it's for important reasons why.

⚠️‼️I WILL NOT BE YOUR SUGAR BABY, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED INSTANTLY. ‼️⚠️

I post what I want, you can either like it or leave it 👉👈

✨️My interests✨️

•I love to listen to music. It helps me express any and all of my feelings. They say, "When you're happy, you enjoy the music, but when you're sad, you understand the lyrics," but heavy metal has my heart for life

• I do smoke (as in weed)

•I love anime and some cartoons, I'm a giant kid at heart.

• I love arts and crafts, anything art related

• I play video games

• I speak fluent sarcasm and kindness🤍

I'll add to my interest more eventually.

Enjoy your stay in my chaotic mind. 🤍

[mikajunie]

how to deal with failure when all you know how to do is beat up yourself (as an adhder)

please read this if you are a chronic self-loather like myself.

i used to hate myself for everything i did; the way i talk and walk, my accomplishments, my daily activities, how i cannot keep up with my peers, all that jazz. and especially as a late-diagnosed adhder this gets worse overtime. i ended up getting into a 6-month burnout, failed 3 classes and have to extend one semester, and i had lost my identity as a person.

overall i was just a breathing, walking flesh with depressive thoughts every day.

but after many many months of rediscovering myself, i have come up with the conclusion that life gets easier when i don't fucking hate myself.

shocker, right? ik this is probably like a 'obviously' type of thing, but i think many ppl with adhd can confirm that this is one of the hardest pills to swallow.

but trust me, you don't need to feel bad!!! and i will tell you how to do it down below. pls read, i hope it helps.

(keep in mind im not a psychiatrist or a therapist btw i just wanna help fellow ppl with adhd)

reminder #1: adhd makes you more prone to making mistakes - beating yourself up for every failure is torture.

as people with adhd, we are more prone to making more mistakes and questionable decisions. we are just built that way. we can work on it, but that's our baseline.

self loathing encourages you to beat up your baseline. your default state. your non-productive mode.

beating yourself up for making a mistake is literally like beating up a cat for sleeping. humans are bound to make mistakes, and us with adhd are bound to make more. it's fine, let yourself breathe. im not saying we cannot do anything right or that our mistakes are permissible, but missing an alarm clock or forgetting things we want to say are not surprising. it's just embedded inside us, so either be miserable for the rest of your life or work on reframing your thoughts on failure in general.

reminder #2: you can learn how to be better even if you don't beat yourself up for it

these neurotypical adults who tell you that you should feel bad about failing are stupid. and whoever tell you that negative reinforcement is needed for you to get better are the dumbest motherfuckers ever.

you don't need to feel bad to ge better.

in fact, once you don't feel too bad about it, you can focus more on how to do better in the future instead of replaying the past over and over again.

literally after almost failing college, i only realized that i should not be hard on myself. literally. i remember deciding i should try being nice on myself and now boom! i feel better AND i actually have been working towards fixing my life more and more.

and you know whats the best part?? i can finally start enjoying my life again!!

reminder #3: not everything you do is a failure. seriously.

this is a thought pattern i keep seeing in every person with adhd.

"nothing i can do is right" WRONG!!!! you do some things wrong but you also do some things right!!!! quit discrediting yourself

now try acknowledging your failures:

cry about it first. let yourself sit in and feel your feelings first. you can continue after you finish crying about it

do some form of meditation that helps you clear out your mind. i suggest just 5 minutes or until you don't feel as heavy anymore

let yourself know that failing is an action and consequence, not a part of your identity. it is not you: you are someone who succeeds and fails sometimes. you can fail, but that does not mean everything you do will be a failure.

identify what kind of failure you're thinking about , why you feel so shitty about it, and what you should do for next time. it'd be good if you could write this down. here is an example from me:

failure: failing out of class

what happened: i failed bc i kept procrastinating and ended up sleeping in, so i could not submit on time

consequences of event: i had to retake the class, paid a significant amount of money, and now i cant graduate on time with my friends

why i feel shitty: i feel so left behind and stupid. i feel like this is such a stupid mistake that was easily avoidable.

and now i have so many thoughts in my mind right now, like "how can i be so stupid? how can i be so careless? this is such a stupid mistake."

now notice. if you also think like this, you are actively judging yourself. you are being so mean to yourself, and for what? would you ever told your friends they are so stupid and dumb for making careless mistakes? even if it's stupid, you wouldn't say it to their faces.

after identifying everything, confirm what actually happened, reframe your thoughts, and apologize to yourself:

"How can I be so careless?" -> It's not intentional, and I did try my best to work on it. It's not my fault my executive dysfunction took over the better part of me.

"How can I be so stupid?" -> Just because I cannot initiate tasks as well as the others, it doesn't mean i'm stupid. i am pretty good at other things, i cannot expect myself to be good at everything.

"This is such a stupid mistake." -> It is stupid, and that's... okay. It's fine. I accept it, I'll work on how to make it better in the future.

when you combat negative thoughts, make sure you combat them not only with facts but also with empathy and future action-focused thoughts.

the key is to focus on what you can do now, not what you should have done.

because focusing on the past is very very unhelpful.

now please focus on what you can do now:

Make small goals for the future.

What you should not say:

"I promise I will try harder to focus" -> Nope, you are relying on your ADHD symptom to not be ADHD anymore... which is impossible.

"I promise I won't forget next time" -> Same thing.

"I promise I will make a routine that I will stick to" -> This is too idealist, don't commit to anything for a long run, it's just setting yourself up for more failure.

What you should say instead:

"Next time, I will try to write it down so I won't forget next time" -> Tell yourself the clear steps on what you need to do. You cannot rely on your brain to just be better, come up with actions that can support you!

"Next time, I will set more alarms and ask a friend to remind me. In fact, I will do it now" -> Commit to things you can do immediately! The faster, the better so you won't lose this momentum. Stop thinking that your future self is 100% reliable. Always assume you need to do it as soon as possible to help yourself in the future.

"Next time, I will try out this routine and see if it works or not" -> Experiment with routines. Routines don't last long, so don't give youreelf empty promises. Instead, accept that your routine will chance every once in a while so you need to learn what works or not.

Apologize and forgive yourself

Say sorry to yourself.

It's normal to make mistakes, and it's unrealistic to think you won't make more.

Move on

Seriously. Don't sit on it too much.

Once you know what you need to do to not fail in the future and you have written it down... just let it go.

You don't need to feel bad to grow. You don't need to feel bad to be better.

You are allowed to feel good about yourself.

In fact, you should feel better about yourself now because you are showing your commitment to getting better by reading this long ass post.

Pat yourself in the back.

Failure has its consequences already, you don't need to punish yourself more. Please get something nice.

Failing is EXHAUSTING. Please give yourself a snack or some gaming time.

Allow yourself to breathe.

We are humans, we are not failures. We succeed and fail sometimes, not all the time.

Be nice to yourself, you have been through a lot.

[rqbossman]

Hello Mr Bossman! (and possibly anyone else who reads this)

Its an honour to be here, I have a few questions. First i appologise for the long paragraph, you may dismiss it for the questions at the bottom. For context, i am here after finishing TMA and being up to date with TMAP, i then went over and listened to RQG, and have just finished listening to Epilogue 3 and might i just say, good sir I am grateful for your podcasts. I am currently just a few months away from my final exams of High School, and as someone who even just 1 year ago was very lost, struggling with school and being just overwhelmed. TMA isnt exactly comforting, but the characters and plot managed to serve as a good form of escapism while sorting myself out. I found my self engaging more in creative things that i had originally put aside in favour of maths and science (which i hated but thought i needed to do). I started drawing again, even if just fanart. and i found things going well. By finding podcasts, story telling and these communities have helped me in my own understanding of what i want in life. I got an ADHD diagnosis earlier this year, and almost directly after started RQG and as my first hyperfixation (that i was aware of as an hyperfixation) gosh dang it hit hard. (in a good way). Ive been able to do so much more creative writing and drawings, and got re-involved with a small dnd group with some friends who i played one game with almost 4 years ago now. So overall, inspirational sounds cringe, but it was. Im doing my best with the upcoming exams, but trying to get in to Medicine is not my only prority, and the fact ive been re-introduced to my first love (Literature and story telling), im planning to go do an Arts degree and i know i wouldnt have been able to confidently make this decision, or even have survived this long in the school system without the work you and your coworkers do. Now the sap is out of the way, Question time! (if you could answer even just one of these questions it would be so cool)(they go in order of RQ relevant to random stuff)(dont feel pressured to answer all/any. i know i wrote alot): 1. what would you say is the best way to draft out a long-form story. (with "Erasing the Line" as an example) Did you start at the end, with the links to the overarching plot.

2. When working with the players (in a form of TTRPG), what did you do to make sure you didnt miss relevant timing of plot points/ avoid creating spoilers while still giving enough detail?

3. What are good places to start with making a job out of storytelling/voice acting/audio etc. In the case of RQ, how is this a job and where do i sign up please! /j (what i mean is, how is best way/how did you find all the people involved and was there a common path that you were all on before getting to where you are now?) 4. Do you have recommendations for Terry Pratchett Books, i may be an literary-leaning student, but it seems i have never actually properly read any of his books. so where is best place to start?/What did you read first?

5. Similar authors or similar inspirations? Did you have a favourite podcast you listen to in your free time that you havnt had a hand in producing/directing/working on. 6. Favourite song/album/artist. And more specifically, what you like listening to in background when doing either writing or (for ttrpg) character research/game planing. 7. Since the olympics are on at the moment, what has been your favourite sport to watch, if you have been watching at all. Thank you for your time :)

Thankyou for all the kind words. Knowing our work is helping people really keeps our engines fired up. Let's see if I can't answer your questions: 1. I "sandbox" which is where I just shove everything I can think of into an unorganised bullet point list. Characters, setting, plot, all of it in one big mess. Then I decide what type of story you want to tell, copy and paste to a new document and then start to organise the thoughts (with the sandbox on standby if new stuff comes in I don't know what to do with). I think of it like scultping, you cut away bits and reshape until something comes out the other end that is story shaped. Only then do I attempt to build the sandcastle and put something coherant together like a synopsis or scratch draft etc.

2. Very tricky. I did a complete review and update of all notes after each recording session and don't forget the audio eas edited. I made lots of gaffs that you never heard as audience.

3. I contacted anyone I could convince to take part and just proved I was serious by overworking. I don't reccomend that route. Unfortunately it really is "who" you know. That doesn't mean chase established professionals as much as it means you need to get out there and associate with other up-and-comers who match your vibe. For me the route was long and windy and not a particularly good example. 4. I normally recommend people do not read his books in publication order. Don't get me wrong, its wonderful watching his craft grow from one title to the next but I would recommend new readers tip their toe into his later works to see if they like where he ended up before committing the time. I often recommend 'Monstrous Regiment' as people's first one. My favourite though is 'Thief of Time.'

5. I don't get much time to listen to podcasts in the last couple of years. I used to listen to a lot of non fiction. 'Stuff you Should Know' and that ilk. I also read a fair amount of classic YA fiction to unwind (Windinsger trilogy, Bartimeous, stuff like that.) 6. Paul Simon's Graceland but when working I assemble a playlist for each seperate project that is tonally appropriate. If I really need to focus I listen to Classical Minimalism. Or the Old School Runescape soundtrack. I'm allowed to be ecclectic. 7. I am actually in an incredibly busy work crunch at the moment so haven't seen any of it!

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XX

Warnings/AN: I should apologize for the drama but its my trademark at this point, I'll just say that there's a flashback and a couple of references to previous chapters. As soon as possible I'll create a masterlist dedicated to the series, because I have contents that I want to add since we are at the end. Lemme know if someone wants a tag there too~

Trouble ahead.

He showed up unexpectedly, grumbling about the mud that had gotten on his expensive shoes, the usual penguin-like gait and Jimmy rolled his eyes, waiting for him to finally reach them because they couldn't have continued at all if he was around. And it had nothing to do with a tactical move to hide plan from the enemy, it was simply impossible to ignore or avoid Paul Heyman and if once Jimmy would have laughed, now Paul was just annoying and the expression on Jey's face proved it.

- "Nice place, in your style" – he commented, without greeting or trying to pretend too much – "reminds me the days I used to come visit your dad, both of you were three, four maybe" – and Jimmy folded his arms.

Sure, their style wasn't their cousin's luxury stuff, the one Paul had accustomed him to. At that moment he was probably having breakfast in a restaurant downtown or a sauna to cool down his muscles, but he too had cut his teeth at the garage near Oak Wood Hills. Jimmy still remembered the afternoons spent there after school to see the red Jeep Cherokee that Roman had become obsessed with, he bought the damn car as soon as Uncle Sika came back from one of his trips and now instead he drove around in black businessman's SUVs and looking after the community with checks he couldn't spend on himself.

- "Did you get lost Og? Want me to call your daddy so he can pick you up?" – he asked and Paul must have had colic judging by his reaction.

- "No. Im here to talk."

- "Wow really?! Mind-blowing!"

The colic became a reproachful look at his sarcasm, but still Jimmy was not impressed and when Jey decided to come closer to support him, Paul wisely quit, once again showing off the best acting skills to save his ass.

- "Even though I remember what was said at the meeting, Im here with good intentions. Of course, it hurt me if I have to tell the truth, I don't understand where the aversion against me comes from... but despite this I couldn't refuse in my heart to help" – he began and Jimmy blinked confused.

- "Have you had a heart transplant?" – he urged, matching his attitude.

Paul didn't take that joke well either, but he had nothing to complain about, everyone knew how things were. The wiseman didn't help anyone if he didn't have something back, goodness was not among his qualities and it was impossible he had found some of it within himself now that he was personally involved. His feelings worked on command, according to occasion and business.

- "He thinks I'm dumb ass" – Jey said out of nowhere, staring at him.

He had crossed the edge since the boys' were dragged into the family mess and now his goal was just putting an end to it all. For him that war was an unbearable burden, Jimmy knew how he was, he knew Jey just wanted to start over, have some peace and he didn't like Paul's fake visit because it also added provocation to his worries. He would probably have put up with Roman, but not Paul, Paul wasn't family to him and those turns of phrase were making him nervous.

He heard the wiseman noises, trying to stay in control even though Jey's gaze didn’t help his attempts.

- "What? No, of course not, I’d never think bad about you! The Tribal Chief had chosen you as his right-hand man, a fool would not have had such an honor or right to speak in family business."

He thinks we're both dumb.

That stunt pushed Jimmy to clench his fists in annoyance, but didn't have time to silence Paul because his brother really didn't seem in the mood that day and had come forward again.

- "I had no right. He take all the decisions, with you, from day one."

He hadn't been around when that deal or alliance or whatever it was between him and Roman had come about, he'd been forced away from home for months, but Jey was there and kept him updated on everything. They had kept him on the sidelines of the family business from the beginning and the right-hand man title with their tricks had become a joke they made real when it suited them. Jey had taken it seriously despite everything, he had committed to the vision and tried, but it only make him run everywhere and get beaten. When Jimmy came back everything was already done and things had even gotten worse after.

- "Jey…" - he heard Paul negotiating trying to slow things down, realizing maybe that his sweet words were no longer having the planned effect - "when you're at the top you often find yourself in unpleasant situations, it's not for everyone, you're starting to understand it too how it is bearing the weight of that position. At the meeting you made some choices... let's say questionable ones... listening an advice would have been right for you if I may, to judge pros and cons. I'm here to offer you a second chance, I care about you even if you don’t care about the wiseman."

Jimmy hadn't expected his brother to discuss those terms in front of the elders, it had been strange and even he had been amazed, because Jey hadn't talked to him first about anything. But whatever plan he had if he had one, leaving a door open for Solo and even Y/N, Jey didn't need any second chances, especially not thanks to Paul. Jimmy was there to cover his back and it would always be like this, he didn't need counselors and dogs licking his feet to sleep better at night.

I can handle him.

His offer echoed through the link, but Jey didn't answer.

- "I know you're angry now and maybe it won't seem that way, but all this will help you, trust me it can be good for you, it's part of your journey to take the place of the Tribal Chief one day" – he persisted and Jimmy decided to step forward, ready to send him back to where he came from with good ass kick.

- "Imma take his place next week" – Jey stopped him, voice far too calm.

The day. It was just a week away. At the dawn after the harvest moon things would no longer be the same. Jimmy had been hoping for a change for years now, in the last few months he had chased it like a breath of air, now that was so close it was an almost surreal feeling, but Jey already seemed in control and ready.

- "It could happen... of course..." - Paul hesitated, avoiding answering to Jey push - "its essential, however, that the family is preserved and all of this, lemme tell you, is a dangerous gamble now. The elders have agreed to restore order, but we're all worried about what will happen next, them, me, your parents, even Y/N... poor girl, she can't rest knowing what’s going on and what could come" - he tried, pulling out an apologetic face that he could have avoid considering what relationship he had with Y/N.

- "None of them should be. The only one who needs to worry is you, because when I'm done, you'd better be far away. Bring back your advice, speeches and ass to my cousin, Og, don’t make say it twice" – Jey quickly silenced him though, stopping his tantrum by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jimmy watched him stiffen as if someone had growled at him, face pale and shaken, his gaze going from Jey's fingers to eyes, which had been fixed on him from the moment he showed up. The realization of failure hit him right in front of them, a mixture of affront, anxiety and worry that Jimmy watched Paul shake off in the same way as Jey's hand, scrambling a few steps back to make room between them. He nodded to who knows who, body shaking as he sorted out his expensive clothes and pride.

The harvest moon was near, so their mother said. That year it was time to reap what they had sown.

***

Devil's Point, that's what the sign they passed on the way said and it really must have been one of devil’s tricks, because Y/N felt her stomach flipped. Or maybe wasn't the devil, maybe it was just another perfect date, pleasant anxiety, wine and fresh air caressing her warm face, sun slowly sinking beyond the strip of sand and trees, setting the sky on fire. Maybe the devil was Roman, with his gentleman manner, so confident, constantly eyeing her, always attentive, his low velvet voice. The bond had always been there, in her veins, in her bones. An invisible impulse born with them, as their lives went on and years passed, omnipresent, indissoluble, inevitable despite miles and obstacles. And more Y/N lingered in that trap easier it seemed to fall, normal deserving the life she hadn't had, a security she didn't know and now all around her, emanating from Roman.

Where has he been all this time? We were alone…

- "Have you ever looked for me?" – she asked out of nowhere, putting the dessert away.

A chocolate cake, because it was her favorite and he worked hard to please her, learning quickly and put into practice even the most insignificant details.

Roman looked surprised at the change of subject, putting down his glass.

- "Have you ever looked for me before that evening, when you found me at the camping?" – she asked again, feeling anxiety suddenly hit even though it had been her idea to investigate, happiness quickly dissolve into doubts.

Y/N didn't even know why she asked. It was an uncomfortable question, the search for a mate was a now past custom, too low probabilities and a world where alternatives had now become norm. It was stupid to expect something and unnecessarily provocative, what's more in their case, after all the first few months problems, it sounded a bit like an accusation or an attempt to ruin plans. Roman however didn't lose his composure and she saw him take a deep breath, brow furrowed as he remembered.

- "Years ago. When I finished college, did it for a while, then stopped."

- "Why?"

He looked at her in silence, but he didn't seem angry or bothered.

She needed to hear it, to know.

- "… had become frustrating. I needed to focus on what I could accomplish."

So real. So true.

Few could say they were lucky enough to find their other half. Rare cases, exceptions. Was it sad to meet someone, choose them and fit in? No, most people out there did it like that, she herself had witnessed it with her parents before the horror, but sometimes people couldn't even find someone, sometimes they were not chosen or stopped wanting each other and then yes, it became sad. For Y/N having someone in her life had never been an aspiration, a dream to cherish when night became too cold or silence too heavy. Getting attached was a risk, risks were dangerous and in her case, as an omega, alone and without a family or a community, it was better to avoid rather than defend. She had to be smart, loneliness had kept her alive, had kept her going, was the possibility of filling the void that scared Y/N. It scared her to get used to someone and lose everything again. She knew what Roman was talking about, a perpetual aftertaste on her lips when she moved away from a place and now she was founding out that she had never really been alone. She had always had a chance, someone waiting for her, ready to fill that void that for Y/N had become like an old illness she lived with.

Roman had been looking for her, among so many people, even if only for a while he really had and it was… so reassuring.

- "You didn't" – she heard him reflect, moving closer to put his jacket on her shoulders.

There was knowledge in his voice, a heavy bitterness, as if he didn't need to hear Y/N say it. She watched him take another sip of wine to warm himself or perhaps wash away the taste of that thought, enduring the cool evening for her.

- "I did it once… just once" – she admitted, surprising him and even herself.

She had never thought about that day before, but memory had hit her soon through her she-wolf, perhaps to console him. She didn’t like that look on his face, he was better all cocky and flirting.

- "I have been in foster care for couple of years after I lost my parents. I went from one house to another, it didn't work and I really didn't want to stay. There was a brunette white girl in one of the families, she didn't like me, talking behind my back all the time... I told her I’d find you and make her regret it" – she said, shaking her head at the thought of that childish menace.

Y/N didn't remember the reason for their fight, it could have been anything, she was an unbearable girl herself at the time, but she knew how she had felt. It was vivid in her memory. That sense of not belonging, absolute loneliness, anger, so much anger at the idea of being and being able to be just a stray in the future. The world is too big a place when life decides to give its worst lessons. Y/N had always grown up quickly, she had always learned running, what to be without roots, what to do if there is no one waiting.

- "We can pay her a visit" – Roman proposed casually and Y/N stared at him, because of all the things he could have said, she hadn't expected that.

No pitying comments, no words of comfort or judgement, just a blind complicit willingness to indulge her past madness.

- "Mmh I'm tempted" – she giggled softly.

- "What happened?" – heard him ask and pointed to her arm, where there was a scar similar to the one he had.

- "I stole her dad’s car and destroyed their fence" - she said, making him frown.

She had gotten into that pick-up without knowing how to drive or what to do, it didn’t end well, they caught her immediately and in hurry she had taken everything and everyone down. One of the poles around property had broken the pick-up window and the wire wrapped around it had threatened to blow her arm off, it was a miracle she hadn't fainted there. One of the biggest dumb act of her life and at the same time another lesson, proving Y/N she shouldn't be carried away by her omega impulses, it didn't bring anything good.

- "I stayed in town for a while I think, then left without looking back. I have no idea what happened to the pick-up or her. I didn't find you though... it was enough for me."

Admitting it, thinking about it, made her feel vulnerable. She didn't like that feeling. That attempt had been a failure from the start, chances of meeting him simply by walking a few miles, going to any city, any street, had been zero and even if he had been there, messed up as she was by pain, Y/N wouldn't even know she had found him. She had been stupid, irresponsible, mindless but realizing when it got dark she was still hopelessly alone had been worse.

She shrugged, picking up the dessert to distract and control herself.

It was over now.

- "We'll make things right, you have my word. It will be enough to be together, there's no need to think about it" – she heard Roman assure, once again without excuses or pity, firm in his intentions – "no more car rides though"– he added with a reproachful look that made her smile.

No, there was no need to think about the past. Everything had already changed and Y/N had learned her lesson, but maybe it was time to learn something else, trying not to run away this time. It seemed easy at the time and yes it really all came down to being enough for each other, filling the void with their bond.

For days Roman's routine had always been the same, calculated to the second, with no margin for error or change. He woke up before dawn, shower, breakfast and run, spend the morning in the gym, then lunch and gym again until dinner time, after which he lock himself in the office taking care of the documents Paul brought or business that required his supervision, and then join her in bed when it was already late night and repeat everything the next day. He was locked in a bubble, focused on a single goal, counting minutes, preparing in advance for whatever would or could happen. An absolute, maniacal dedication that Y/N somehow admired. It made her proud to see that he was capable of so much and yet it also made her sad.

Because in the wild run of that family war, she was just a spectator. She repeated to herself that she had to be patient, be understanding, that she had to put aside anxieties and bad moods to support him as better as she could, but it weighed on her. She did whatever not to show it, not to think about it, and despite her efforts Y/N felt everything around her emptying and cooling, her sacrifices devalued and even ignored. They almost didn’t speak to each other anymore and certainly not about what they should have because there was no time for doing it, they didn’t spend together and when that happened he was focused on something else, Y/N had the feeling of having gone back to the days when they were two strangers, two separate worlds united by a thin wire.

She didn't want that, they weren't like that, they had both worked hard to make things work, succeeding, they had truly found themselves at the end. The idea they were affecting their relationship, the possibility to distance themselves so bad to spend a life like that, wasn't something Y/N could bear. They had overcome differences, they shouldn't have burned everything because they didn't see things the same way in war where their relationship was not in play. They just had to meet once again and remember. He had taught her that and Y/N hadn't believed him for a long time, but they really needed their bond.

On the now empty table on the patio, she opened the floor plan of her old house, the one she had had to leave and Roman had given her back. It was nothing compared to what she had now, but it could become something, maybe just for them, a place where nothing and no one could disturb them.

***

Day after day his body pushed further and further, urged by pressure, focused on a single goal from which Roman couldn’t look away. He couldn't afford any mistakes with Jey, Roman knew he could beat him and he would, but his cousin knew him better than any other out there. They were certainly on two different levels, however Roman couldn't allow him to prove anything if he wanted to regain the absolute control that the elders had questioned due to too many mistakes in those months. And it was for these reasons that getting out of his head, stopping and having those breaks had become an annoying obligation that he fulfilled in the shortest time and avoiding any extra thoughts. Lose focus was a weakness, give ground an advantage, something he couldn't tolerate.

When he closed the door behind him, the house was silent as if he were the only one around. It had been like this for a long time, but time had passed. Now it wasn’t empty, Y/N was there and not finding her in the living room as had been the case for days forced him to follow her trail to the outside. He expected to find her busy, but not to see her with all those papers on the table.

Why is she looking at them? Why she got that floor plan again?! Stop her. Now.

- "What are you doing?" – he asked, voice heavy and she immediately raised her head with a weak smile, one that she could have addressed to anyone, not to him.

- "Nothing, I was waiting for you. Is it already time for your break?"

If it was an attempt to push away the conversation or pretend, it didn't work. He knew those documents, he had signed them and he had been clear telling her not to get any strange ideas about her family's old house, and yet she was there looking at them page by page at a moment like this.

- "I asked you what you think you are doing Y/N" – he repeated seriously, convincing her to put them down.

- "I was keeping myself busy while I waited for you to finish. I answered."

He saw Y/N keep her gaze on him, head held high, back straight, but Roman still sensed what was behind, tension, heavy air. It was since he said he would no longer have regrets that Roman had seen her react like this and in the last few days the atmosphere had gotten even worse. She didn't comment, didn't ask, she stopped trying to argue, she was good at not showing it, but his wolf could sense it when he lay down next to her at night, saw the way she looked at him. It wasn't a good idea for her to punish his cousins despite what they had done to him, she couldn't stand the prospect of a fight, she had promised to stand by his side no matter what and after a year she still rejected his mark when she shouldn't have even had to choose whether to have it or not, now she also took out the floor plan of her old house even though he had given her another one, one for them, better.

We told her not to act like this, she doesn't need that house. We did everything, we gave everything to her.

He had spent the last year dedicating himself to their bond, proving time and time again that he was worthy, that he would be a good mate for her, he was doing so even facing his own family. Shielding their future family even before their bloodline was born. Jey e Jimmy had ruined his plans, it wasn’t his fault, he was risking everything for what they would have built together, for their future. He had proven who he was, Y/N had to know, no one before him had ever achieved so much, no one would ever bear such a burden, there was no alpha out there on his level able to take care of her and anyone else. She couldn't think about them again, she couldn’t doubt, it was crazy!

- "What Im doing is to keep everything for us, protect what we have" – he explained to her for the umpteenth time, seeing Y/N stop that attempt of a smile understanding what direction their conversation was taking, as he approached the table.

He didn't like losing his temper with her, he didn't want to, but Y/N had a fastlane to pushing him in any situation and that was definitely the wrong one. Why she was throwing it in his face? At home, while he spent the days preparing to end the mess out there and start again together?!

- "You say it all the time, I know."

Her and her mouth…

- "Because that's the only thing that matters, not sitting here fantasizing about alternatives."

- "Ain't fantasizing about anything. You're so focused that we don't spend more than ten minutes together, I thought we could have a break for a bit, do something together when it's all over... but I guess it's a no if you react like that."

No, she couldn't blame him. This mess wasn't his fault, he was fixing it, it wasn't on him!

- "I don't have time to plan these things, not when I have all the work to do and problems keep piling up! I told you this too. You should have get it by now what has priority and instead we are here discussing because you keep putting these ideas in your head!"

- "My apologies, my Tribal Chief, is that good?" – he heard her reply, mocking him and he froze.

He looked at her angrily, as if they were back to the days when she couldn't stand him and he was always on the verge of exploding. He looked at her out of his mind, mouth twitching, but she wasn't even giving him attention, too busy keeping her eyes somewhere other than him, in an act of submission that was more a provocation than an apology. He ran a hand over his beard, clenching his jaw, but it was just too much and he lowered himself, leaning on the table to tower over her. Her scent, so familiar, usually so comforting, immediately filled his lungs, a regenerating peace that clashed with their fatigue and that Roman felt once more from Y/N, her body stiffening as soon as his breath hit her cheek.

He was the Tribal Chief and would remain so until God woke him up again. People out there could have planned trials, clashes, attacks, anything, nothing would have changed. But she was different, she was not one of those folks. Y/N might not have his mark, she might claim every freedom she wanted, Roman would put up with it to please her, to make her happy, because she deserved it, but still didn't change anything. They wouldn't go back to those hellish days where they were nothing.

- "I'm more than that to you" – he reminded, seeing her nod.

- "I know" – she replied immediately, finally turning around.

Her eyes, dark as the water of the river that ran through Roman’s land, almost seemed to suck him in. Two sharp chasms where he had looked for her for months, until found her huddled at the bottom waiting for him. Roman had dragged her out of there, he had given her everything, all of himself and he would do it again every day, without holding back or thinking about it and that was exactly why he was acting like that. If it wasn't for him, she would still be there, alone and with no future.

- "Make that stuff disappear before I do it" – he ordered, straightening up.

Y/N didn't move, her eyes still on him, as Roman decided he'd had enough of that pause, walking away. Her reaction reached him through the bond, when he crossed the threshold to go back inside: a mixture of anger, pain and sadness.

It hurts.

It hit him like a wave, alarming his wolf despite the fight, but it disappeared just as quickly, as if Y/N had wiped it away and Roman took a second to look at her through the windows, check, while she gathered everything on the table, head down and in silence.

He had to focus on what needed to be done. Distractions were just more problems.

We’re doing it for everyone. She will understand soon.

***

She had put everything back in his office, locking the desk drawer almost throwing away the key.

Why is he acting like this? What did we do wrong?

Her she-wolf felt confused, hurt and so was Y/N, with a good amount of anger on top of that. She was trying with all of herself, she was doing everything every day to make things work, to not disappoint him, to be up to the task, to not miss the opportunity for a good life. She had learned to ignore what didn't require a reaction, to be understanding when with anyone else would have freaked out, she was trying to be a better version of herself for her sake and for Roman. Was it such a bad idea? She knew Roman was fighting for their place, for his packland, but she hadn't suggested to leave everything and disappear, she would never have done it because she knew what it meant, she just thought they might have a safe space somewhere else... in a future less sad and complicated. That house was important to Y/N, she wanted to do her part, help, give back doing something like Roman had done with the house they lived in now, share.

It's already his though.

His property... that's why he snapped?

Roman had considered it a waste of time, a fantasy to be put away... after all, why he should pay attention to something no one wanted to take away at that moment? something far from his family war, from the packland. It already belonged to him, her she-wolf was right to justify him, Y/N had pushed him first, there was nothing to share or fix there and Jimmy's words came back to her mind. She had thought about doing something for them and instead she had really wasted time.

“The house… you bought it to give her nowhere to run away from you.”

It was a gift. For us.

Roman had said so and Y/N had felt so special. But it had his name on it, everything, every sheet of paper.

He wanted to make us happy. The best for us.

“I don't want you to go there, okay? This is your place now, it's your home and you have to stay here. But one day maybe we can fix it and go together.”

One day. Maybe…

Together.

Maybe? now the memory sounded like a dad tricking his daughter into not throwing a tantrum.

Smell of aftershave mixed with something familiar distracted Y/N, reminding her that she was still in the office and she turned to stare at the door just before seeing Paul arrive with a folder of documents in his arms.

- "Y/N! I thought you were out for one of your runs" – he said after a second too long, tone surprised and suspicious, as he looked at her standing there –"… you alright? "

No one was allowed to go upstairs unless it was necessary, but business those days seemed a matter of life and death, so it was hardly surprising. The last safe place for her would have been the bathroom.

- "You seem a bit…"

- "Take comments for yourself, there's no point in having a conversation" – she said, moving away from the desk with the intention of disappearing, but Paul wouldn't have been Paul if he hadn't decided to ruin her day already messed up.

- "Of course not, but I think you’ll want to know I went to talk with the twins. Didn’t go as hoped. Jey… he doesn't listen" – he admitted with disappointment, taking her place to add more documents to those already placed everywhere and Y/N finally recognized what that other scent on him was.

- "He doesn't like you, it was pretty obvious."

The idea of talking sense to Jey had been stupid. Maybe Jimmy could have been a possibility even if he was the one who started shit, he would have talked to a wall regardless of his sympathies, but Jey? No, Jey wasn't made for those things and both him and Y/N shared the same opinion of Paul. Sure he had had more time to learn to tolerate the so called wiseman, but Y/N had known from the very first moment he wouldn't accept any proposal Paul was going to make him.

- "You do though. He allowed Solo and you to stay if… well you know – he threw it there with such nonchalance, but she wasn't willing to tolerate, it was the wrong day – "he’s attached to you, he think about you as someone to protect."

What is he trying to say?!

- "What I know is that they shouldn't fight and that you Paul, said you would make sure to avoid it."

The brilliant idea of saving her during the meeting a few days before had taken Y/N by surprise too, there was no agreement or plan behind it, she didn't even know why at that moment, with everything that was happening, Jey had decided to expose himself for her. She was almost absolutely certain it wasn't something normal in situations like the one they were in, she was Roman's mate and Jey was threatening to take everything away from him after all, but whatever was the reason it didn't matter because it wasn't what they needed to focus on, especially not Paul.

- "I fear that stopping everything is no longer an option, we don’t have time, they have sworn in front of the family now. Neither of them can back out" – heard him say with a funeral face that didn’t inspire pity in her.

- "So that ridicolous meeting was the point of no return?!" – she snapped and he choked, hands reaching out in an attempt to stop her when Y/N nerves were undergoing yet another stress test.

She respected Roman's family, she respected their traditions, but it was unthinkable to Y/N that a handshake was an unbreakable pact, not when both sides were risking everything and whoever was supposed to advise them, stop them, watched or made things worse. She couldn't, it was something she couldn’t understand. They were a family, they had to act like a family, not fighting.

- "I wouldn't talk like that, let's try to breath now okay? Think about it. There are other ways to swing things in our favor, I'm already working on something. An idea in the right ears works wonders."

- "You're working on something" – she repeated, feeling blood go straight to her head.

Yep, sure, after all they had time to act with calm, there was a week to go and everything was already a disaster, but who cared? They could also sit, chat, think and judge who remained to be sacrificed so they could sip a drink under the patio when their bright future would be on hand.

- "I know, I understand your concern, but if you decided to be more cooperative it would help a lot and speed things up. The twins are stubborn, but Jey making all these decisions on his own could work to our advantage if we prove that he isn't capable of"- he tried, but it wasn't the right day for her to listen his sneaky little games.

- "I won't help you making anyone believe anything. You are the wiseman, be the wiseman, find a way, just do it" – she silenced him, leaving the office without waiting an answer.

She wanted that fight, everything to end once and for all, she wanted to go back to months ago when Y/N had thought she could have everything missing in her life, she wanted a family, Roman to annoy her with his daily nonsense instead of dramas to survive and manipulations on a daily basis. She was tired and for the first time since the beginning even if she tried hard… she couldn't see the end.

Breath. Calm down. Don’t lose control, we can’t allow it. Breath.

***

Right, left, right, left, right, left again. The punching bag was easy to predict every time Roman hit it, Jey wouldn't follow those times when they would have been face to face. At some point he would shift, it was the only way he had to really bring Roman down. As both man and wolf, Roman was bigger than his cousin, bruises and broken bones wouldn't keep him down once they were out there, Jey would have to do more and to do so he would have no choice. He was fast, he would aim for multiple points, targeting him, Roman only needed one, the right one, like with the punching bag.

When he hit it seriously, the chain holding it up gave way, sending it down and putting Roman face to face with Solo, standing silently there, even though he hadn't asked to see him.

- "What's up?" – he asked, catching his breath and kicking the punching bag away.

- "He was talking to Y/N upstairs" – Solo said, without mincing words and Roman stopped, staring at him, his sweaty brow furrowed in an attempt to understand.

Y/N couldn't stand the wiseman. She had never liked him, from the first day, it had taken months to convince her to not growl when he approached and now they were talking? Alone upstairs, while he was there training?

- "About what?" – Roman asked, but Solo shrugged his shoulders in a heavy silence Roman had to accept, hiding his annoyance with a grimace.

First in his land. Then in his family. Now in his house. No… not that time.

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