#i told my friend i don’t fucking care(quoting my words) but guess who cares? ME

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Be Embarrassed

Sam Riordan x Reader

Prompt: You take care of Sam and he takes care of you.

Warnings: autistic reader having an autistic meltdown, talk of mental hospitals, mentions of sex, walking in on friends having sex, spoilers for episode 4

A/N: Although there is no smut, because we’re only 4 episodes in and Sam doesn’t have a confirmed age I’m writing this under the assumption that he’s college age 18+. This boy is taking up most of my brain space this week. We don’t have a lot of info on the the character, but this is how I see his vibes. I crossposted this on my ao3 adriansglasses. Also this is my first non Adrian fic in quite sometime! Hope ya’ll enjoy!

You were on your way back from class when you heard yelling coming from down the hallway. You had been hanging out with Sam for the day and left him for two hours to go to class. You rushed to your dorm, quickly fishing out your keys.

“Hey hey hey what’s going on?” You asked him, placing your hands out, waiting to see if he’ll let you touch him.

“It was supposed to be a good day! A good day! But apparently I can’t even fucking do that!” He yells. The Woods had done a toll on him and he was still recovering. He had been doing a lot better lately, but everyone knows healing isn’t linear.

“Sam, it’s okay. You’re okay.” You give him a smile. “You had a good day yesterday and the day before that! It’s okay to have a bad day, Sam.”

“But I was doing so good…” He sounds defeated. You slowly grow closer to him. When he doesn’t back away you place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know and I’m so proud of you, but healing isn’t linear. There’s gonna be bad days. Even people who are… for lack of a better word ‘normal’ have bad days.” You roll your eyes and throw air quotes around the word normal. You didn’t always have the best words to describe what you were thinking, but Sam always knew what you meant. Usually college friendships and relationships formed and moved fast, but even with that Sam was different. You felt like you could be yourself around him in ways you couldn’t be around others.

It felt that way since the beginning. Sure the day you met Sam was overstimulating, rushed, and tense, but after you and your friends convinced him not to kill the doctor that completely ruined his life, you got to know him a little more the next day.

“So what’s your power?” He asks.

“What?”

“Your power. You must be a supe if you go to Godolkin.”

“Oh! Yeah uh…right… It’s stupid.” You sigh, avoiding eye contact. The gravel below your feet comes into detail. You pay attention to the sparkles of the rocks being hit by the sun instead of Sam.

“It can’t be that bad. Just tell me.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“I uh… I feel like any way I word it will sound weird, but my bodily fluids are like acid, so uh like my tears and spit and stuff. Told you it was weird.”

“No! That’s cool! I’ve seen way worse. You should have seen some of my roommates at my old place.” He jokes. You laugh quietly with him.

“So all of your stuff is acid?” He asks. You nod.

“How do you pee? Do you just like melt toilets every time you piss?” He asks. You laugh.

“No, I guess my body has some way of controlling it, but I don’t know. I haven’t really figured it out consciously.”

“I was gonna say, that would be really cool if you could piss acid. Just like pee on all your enemies. That would be cool as fuck.” He laughs. You don’t know why at the time, but there’s just something so comforting about him.

“That’s gross. You’re sick.” You laugh.

“Oh trust me I know. You don’t go through multiple mental hospitals just being normal.”

You knew he was joking, but the way he said normal struck a cord in you. You didn’t see him as wrong, but you knew what he meant. You often felt… knew… you weren’t normal either.

You were there for Sam just as much as he was for you. It took you a long time to accept his help. It took a while for him to convince you that you weren’t a burden. The first time you had a meltdown in front of him was a very vulnerable moment for you. You hadn’t been that vulnerable with anyone like that in a long time.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them.” You fumed, pacing the room, so blinded by your anger you had forgotten you were with Sam. You had promised him you could watch Waterworld after class because you’d never seen it before and it was his favorite movie.

“She is such a fucking bitch. Why the fuck didn’t she fucking tell me?! She could have put a fucking sock on the door or sent a text or fucking something Jesus fucking Christ! Like I love her, but fuck!” You were beyond angry. After an already overstimulating day and a failed assignment handed back, you were already on edge before you walked in on Jordan and Marie. Now sexiled to the lounge while your roommate finishes with his girlfriend, not caring about your plans at all.

“I fucking told him too! I told him you were coming over!” You say, upset, and quite honestly still in shock, not expecting to see two of your friends fucking on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Maybe they just forgot.” Sam proposes.

“How could she fucking forget what time I come home every fucking Tuesday?!” You huff, sitting down on the couch. You sit in silence before thinking it over.

“No, you’re right… they probably just forgot…” You feel a pit in your stomach and tears starting to well up in your eyes. You try to keep them at bay. You don’t need an acid leak today. “Yeah Jordan totally forgot. Oh fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad.” You feel your body crumbling in on itself. You hate getting mad. You were so scared of your own anger. You also felt like Jordan didn’t deserve it. Yeah he could be an ass sometimes, but Jordan was your roommate and your friend.

“Hey what’s going on you look upset- well more upset than you were before… okay maybe not more upset, but a different kind of upset…” Sam’s voice trails off. He wasn’t always the best with words either.

“I just feel so bad.” The tears start to slip down your face.

“Why do you feel bad? You just walked in on two of your friends having sex in your own room. It’s never happened to me, but I think it’s normal to be annoyed.” He sits down next to you. When he gets a closer look at your face he sees the red marks on your cheeks. You were used to the burn by now. You hated crying, but sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself. Sam moves to wipe away some of your tears.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” You ask.

“They used to electrocute me daily at the Woods. This is nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” The ache in your stomach grows. You feel like such a burden.

“Why are you sorry?” He asks.

“Because you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m here because I want to be.” He smiles.

“But I’m too much. This is too much. You have your own shit to deal with. I’m so fucking sorry, Sam.” You try to hold back more tears. You feel awful.

“Hey, don’t apologize. You’ve done so much for me. You promised you’d always be there for me. Let me return the favor. You’re so kind to everyone, just let me be kind to you.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper again in a broken voice.

“Why do you keep saying sorry? Are you embarrassed?” He asks. You nod.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Multiple mental hospitals, remember?” He jokes, making a face and pointing to himself. You laugh quietly.

“Just the life of a broken fucking brain.” He laughs, but there’s something sad underneath.

“You know I don’t think you’re a monster right?”

“Why are you bringing that up now?” He asks.

“Well sometimes I think you believe the doctors at the Woods a little too much. I just wanted to make sure you know that I know that you’re trying and you’re a good guy.” You smile.

“For what it’s worth I don’t think you’re a monster either. You think I’m a good guy, but I think you’re the goodest person I know.” He smiles. “Is goodest even a word?” He asks.

“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the compliment.” You smile. You don’t know when it happened, but you start to realize that Sam had successfully distracted you and calmed you from your meltdown. You find his arm around you, as you lean into him on the lounge couch.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He smiles.

“I’m so glad I met you too.”

[imtryingbuck]

Come back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)

Word count: 3,919

Warnings: Angst. Sad times. Swearing. A grave gets dug up. Brock Rumlow. 

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

  In Loving Memory Of Y/n L/n

    Killed In Action Saving 5 Innocent Children

    Dedicated Agent

    Friend To Everyone

 10/05/1990 - 10/05/2017

“Pass me a donut will ya”

Everyday since the plaque went up 5 years ago, Bucky always reads it. Everyday a small chuckle will leave his lips when reading the quote Tony made sure was engraved in the marble. ‘She always said it and she did tell me once that when she died to have it on the plaque they HAD to give her’ Tony repeated that conversation when they deciding what would be put on the plaque. It was true, did she always say it. He can hear her voice saying the words he reads every day. 

Putting his two fingers to his lips he lightly kisses them, the gently places his fingers on her photo. Her ID photo took 8 tries to take because she wouldn’t sit still or she wouldn’t keep a straight face. In the end they settled on the final one, her with a huge smile on her face. She told Bucky once when he had asked-

‘why are you smiling in your photo?’

‘Because a smile a day keeps the dentist at bay’ 

‘That’s not an expression’

‘Well it should be’

He missed her more and more every day. Today however left a bitter taste in his mouth, today was the anniversary of her death. 

Every year since they watched their friend die, the team makes sure they don’t have missions just so they can celebrated her death as well as her birthday.

Every year on that painful day they gather in the common room and watch all of her favourite films and play all the board games she went crazy over, they would order and/or cook her favourite food. Then they would each blow out a candle on the large donut Tony had specially made for her birthday. 

He remembers that day when Tony surprised her with it a few years before her death. Her squeals made everyone laugh, she made everyone blow out one candle ‘it’s my birthday and I want everyone to get a wish’ and as the years passed they still did it.

They were halfway through the third film when director Fury walked in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but you guys need to hear this”

“What is it?” Tony asks sitting up from where he was slouching.

“Earlier today there was an attack at SHIELD headquarters”

“How many are dead?” Steve asks. 

“The real question you need to ask is how many are alive Rogers”

“Well?” Natasha speaks up from where she sits next to Wanda.

“None. 28 people are in critical condition” each member of the team murmur their different abbreviations of ‘oh god’.

“Who was it do you know?” Steve questions. 

Walking around the sofa and sitting down on the lone chair Fury sighs “There’s was only one person. With a symbol on their back, take a wild guess which one”

“Hydra” They all speak at the same time.

“Yep. Now heres the reason why I’m here. The computers were tampered with, the IT department has managed to find out what was deleted”

“Go on” Tony says when Fury trails off.

“The file.. the only file to be downloaded and deleted was Y/n’s.”

The teams reaction was different from one another’s however Bucky, Bucky’s heart stopped, he’d gone cold and clammy at the same time, so many questions circled his mind. Why hers? Why now? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Why her of all agents?

It was as if Steve could read his mind because it was him that asked “Why hers? She’s been dead for 6 years now. Why would Hydra want her file?”

“We-I don’t know. Now here’s the part you guys are not going to like. Ross wants Y/n’s body to be dug up”

Before anyone get say anything “Absolutely fucking not! You touch her grave I’ll kill you myself!” Bucky shouts.

“Then I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again” booms Thor.

“Listen to me, I don’t want to do this! Ro-“

“I don’t care what Ross wants. It’s bad enough her headstone needs to be replaced every two months because of arseholes keep wanting a piece of it, now you want to dig her up? It nearly killed all of us watching her coffin go into that hole now you want us to watch it come back up?” Bucky’s left hand is balled tight in a fist as he paces back and forth.

“You don’t have to watch and you need to watch your tone” Fury shot back.

“What are you going to do with her?” Wanda asks before Bucky can say anything.

“We’ll put her somewhere different- safer. It’s just a precaution and we have no idea what they want with her file. We don’t know why they picked her out of all active agents and Barnes I don’t like this anymore than you do, Y/n was” taking in a deep breath “I miss her too. I’m sorry but I’m going to give Ross the go ahead on this. You guys don’t have to to be there when it happens and when we find out what’s going on we’ll bury her again. I promise”

For a full 20 minutes after Fury left they were sitting in complete silence each trying to wrap their heads around the information they were just given. SHIELD headquarters had been attacked by Hydra - using just one person to assassinate so many agents. Out of all the Agents of SHIELD alive or dead they pick their friends file, their friend who they loved and adored the same friend who always had a smile on her face no matter what, the one person who could light up a room just by walking inside of it. A person who was so full of happiness and sunshine yet deadly and damn right terrifying when she needed to be. 

Now said friend who they have grieved for, for the past 6 years was about to have her resting place disturbed. Like Bucky had said to Fury, it nearly killed each and everyone of the Avengers and the Guardians - who came to Earth just to attend her funeral - they knew that the probability of dying on the job was high, of course they did, they just never expected it to happen to her, they had to watch as their friend, confidant, colleague, the better half to all of them lay in a box surrounded with 4 camera crews broadcasting their every move just so the whole world could watch them in their most vulnerable moment. They watched as her coffin was gently placed into the ground, knowing that it was going to be the last time they would ever see her after the soil would cover her.

They broke. Plain and simple, they broke. Worst part of it was is that the world lapped it up, the images of Natasha more famously known as the Black Widow standing at the grave of her best friend in bright colour clothing crying, was every where - people joked about how the deadly assassin was crying, saying she wasn’t as strong as everyone made her out to be because she cried. Y/n was undoubtedly the only person Nat felt comfortable with, the one person who saw Natasha as Natasha, not the Black Widow but her friend Natty. She was actually the first person in a very long time to see Nat cry, it was when the goldfish - that Y/n had brought her after she found out that Nat had always wanted one - had died, she felt so unbelievably stupid for crying over it but all Y/n did was hold her, told her to stop being silly for calling herself stupid. They buried it near the lake, just the two of them. Y/n even had bagpipes playing on her phone which made the redhead chuckle.

Wanda was called a crybaby because guess what? She was crying, she was crying because she was burying her best friend! The first person other than Steve to treat her like a human being. The first person to show her that not all people were bad, the one person who wasn’t scared of her that time when Wanda had lost control of her powers making people run in fear, not Y/n though nope she was the one who managed to help Wanda ground herself.

Steve was also mocked for crying for the loss of his friend, ‘Captain America weeps at funeral’, ‘Captain America is weak’, ‘Steve Rogers needs to give up the shield’. Y/n was the one who taught him how to use technology, showed him how the modern world worked and operated. She was the first person on his side when he wanted to track Bucky down. He loved her, not romantically, but he loved her so much. She made him feel normal, she never treat him like he was nearing a 100 years old who was missing 70 years of his life, like he actually was.

Sam just like the rest was called weak for crying at his friends funeral. The two of them drove the whole team insane when they were together (which was pretty much all the time) Like Steve he loved Y/n, she was his sister, his angel as he always called her. She was his best friend, favourite person in the world. The photo of Sam falling to his knees at the side of his angels grave was blasted all over the internet.

The photos of Tony clinging on to his now wife Pepper made front pages as well. ‘Billionaire Tony Stark cries at funeral of dead agent’. ‘Billionaire Tony Stark has to be held up by woman at funeral’. He saw Y/n as his daughter - shit she called him dad and he introduced her to anyone as his daughter. She didn’t see him as a bank, nope she hated it when he would give her money, one time she had to ask him if she could borrow money from him doing it with tears in her eyes because she felt ashamed of herself for asking. A few weeks later she gave him the money back with interest, when he told her to stop being silly and for her to keep it they argued for nearly 3 hours. She managed to slip the money into his pocket without him even realising it. Tony loved her so deeply, when he and Pepper found out they was having a baby girl they already had her name picked out - Morgan, Y/n’s middle name.

‘God of Thunder Thor spotted crying at funeral’ Like everyone else of course he was crying he lost his friend, she made him laugh, she made confused - once she convinced him that she was invisible and that he was the only person who could see or hear her, for 3 weeks he was absolutely convinced he was the only person on planet Earth who could see her. It wasn’t until Sam got back from a mission that the whole jig was up. He was truly captivated by her but even more so especially after she was able to lift Mjölnir higher up than Steve was able to, waved his hammer around like it weighed nothing. He, like Bucky, blamed himself for her death, he thought no believed it was his fault she was no longer with them. So yes of course he cried.

Bruce wasn’t allowed to attend his friends funeral because when she died he couldn’t control the big green beefy fella - as Y/n called him - from coming out. Fury and Ross said it would be bad and take the attention away from Y/n if the Hulk was there. He agreed. Y/n loved Hulk like she loved Bruce, she wasn’t afraid of the Hulk - Christ she once tried to have an arm wrestle with him! She didn’t once make Bruce feel like he was a freak or a dangerous monster as small minded people called him. No she treat him with respect and kindness. It took 2 months for him to go from being Hulk to being Bruce again.

Clint turned his hearing aids off for months after her death, he remembered her asking him to teach her how to sign language just so he didn’t have to always wear them. That was an interesting experience to say the very least. Clint adored her, adored the spark she carried around, adored the warmth and tranquillity she oozed. Her strength, willpower and willingness that no one could dream of having been one of the many things he loved about her, and what he misses. The day after she died he went home, home to his wife and children where he collapsed in Laura’s arms and cried himself to sleep that night. He too was mocked for being weak.

Then there was the photos of Bucky who was struggling to stand strong. ‘The world’s deadliest assassin cries’ was the headline on magazine’s for weeks or his personal favourite one ‘Winter Soldier more like Weak Soldier’ Like Nat he too was mocked because he wasn’t wearing all black but bright colours - hell they all were, it was what she wanted and whatever Y/n wanted, she got. Her death hit him the hardest. He loved her. He still loves her after 6 years of her being gone. ‘True love is what them two idiots have’ Tony would say. He blamed himself for what had happened to her, he had just turned his back for a second to hand a child to an agent when the whole building came down trapping her inside, he should of done more he always tells himself. Other than Steve she was his best friend, the one person who wasn’t afraid off his arm, the only person who could calm him down after a nightmare. She was the first person he opened up to and not once did she judge him or called him names, after he finished telling her all the things he remembered she got up and walked over to him and pulled him in for a hug, crying her heart out and apologising over and over again. The worst part for Bucky other than losing her was that he never got to tell her how madly in love he was with her. 

“It doesn’t make sense” Steve was the one who broke the silence.

“Which part?” Tony asks.

“Everything. The attack, Y/n’s file, Ross wanting her to be dug up. Nothing makes sense”

“We need to figure this out. We can’t let them do this to her” Sam shakes his head, whilst trying to keep the tears he was fighting back at bay.

“Fury let me into his thoughts. They think they’re trying to find out how to recreate her genes.” Wanda finally speaks.

Once again the room went quiet. Y/n back story was still a bit of a mystery to the team. It was just something she never spoke about, they knew of the scars that covered the majority of her body and they did know of her mutant gene and that was it. 

Y/n was exactly like Logan, better known as Wolverine. Though Logan’s a Beta level mutant whereas Y/n was an Alpha level, the only one of her kind. She had complete control over her abilities, her fighting skills were untouchable and unmatched. She was a part of the Weapon X program, when she was a young child she was taken from the orphanage she was placed at as a baby - and unknown to the team she was subjected to the worst abuse imaginable at the hands of The Facility. Unlike Logan though her Adamantium claws weren’t poisonous.

And what made Y/n even stronger was just like Wanda she had telekinesis abilities, though Y/n was a bit stronger than the other woman.

They didn’t know that Logan had found her when she was 16, with a chain wrapped around her neck that was connected to the wall, in a dark room that only had a toilet - nothing else. Logan had managed to get her out, which wasn’t easy considering she didn’t trust him and he wasn’t her handler. Logan kept her with him for roughly three years, moving around place to place, keeping each other safe. He was growing weak and unable to keep his promise to her, promise being he’d keep her safe. With a heavy heart he took her to Fury, begging the other man to take care of her. And since then she was a highly respected SHIELD agent and member of the Avengers.

They knew if Hydra were trying to recreate her genes they would have an army that would be unstoppable.

“But why dig her up? Hydra has her file so therefore they… they…”

“Tony? You okay?”

“Other than finding out my daughters grave will be disturbed, I’m fine”. He gets up and walks away.

One by one they follow his lead, leaving Bucky and Thor to blow out the candles - making the same wish as the previous years.

For her to come back.

The very next day they all gather at the cemetery and watched with a heavy heart as her grave gets dug up.

Three days later Fury gets a phone call “Fury you need to come to the Pentagon as soon as you can and don’t tell anyone”

“On my way”.

As soon as he got there he meets with Ross. “What’s all this about?”

“It’s not her”

“What are you talking about Ross?”

“Y/n… it’s not her in the coffin.”

“Hold on, you fucking lied to me you told me you wasn’t going to touch her!”

“Fury we brought a dead agent to the Pentagon for a reason”.

“A dead agent? Remember that dead agent saved you life how many times? Oh yeah six. Six fucking times she saved your arse Ross.” The anger coming off Fury made everyone in the room shift foot to foot.

“Sorry, we brought Y/n to the Pentagon for a reason”

“Why?”

“Simple. We wanted to make sure that they hadn’t gotten to her so we checked, and it’s not her. If-if you just look to your left Nick you’ll see the body that was in her coffin”

Fury stood there for a few minutes just staring at Ross before he looked over to where he had pointed. 

There laid the decaying body of a woman, that was most definitely not Y/n.

“H-how is this possible?”

“We don’t know. It’s a possibility that Hydra got her body first, but it doesn’t explain why they would put this person in her place”

“Or she could be alive?” Fury asked hopefully.

“She’s not” Ross puts a hand to Fury’s shoulder “I checked the footage of the attack and it’s not her, I asked some of the agents that could talk if the person had claws and they all said no” Ross hated himself for calling her ‘a dead agent’ even if she was just that, but like Fury had said, she saved his life more times than one. When Y/n was introduced to him, he had to admit he was intimidated by her. But as time went on they gained each others trust and respect.

“Fury you can’t tell the Winter Soldier about this”

“James. His name is James and you honestly expect me not to say anything to the team?”

“We have no idea how any of them will react, especially him and Thor”

He hated to admit that Ross did have a point, there was no idea how the two men who blamed themselves for her death, would react.

Sighing “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s just hope and pray that they don’t have her I guess”.

The screams of pure terror coming from civilians were muffled by the gunfire and explosions, the bodies of civilians and SHIELD agents scattered amongst the wreckage. Hydra made another attack on the Capital.

The Avengers were able to stop Hydra agents from pushing further forwards. But when the ground started to shake they all looked at each other.

Both Steve and Bucky gulped at the sight of the Uber Tank, memories of seeing it during the war flashed through their minds.

“What the fuck is that!” Tony questioned.

“T-that’s Hydras Tank - I thought I destroyed it” Steve answers.

The rain pour of gunfire came to a stop on both sides, agents of Hydra smirked, agents of SHIELD looked terrified. The rumbling stopped, the only sound that could be heard was rubble still falling in the background.

When the hatch came open they waited with bated breath. Rumlow.

Brock Rumlow climbed up and out of the tank, standing on top with a megaphone.

“Do you like her? She’s a real beauty isn’t she? Took us longer than I care to admit to rebuild her but here she is!” He laughs “Hey so the attack the other week on your headquarters, sorry about that. We just needed something, take a wild guess what” Not receiving an answer he sighs and tilts his head to the side “It was to get your friends file! Jesus do I have to do all the work around here?”

“I’ve got a clean shot” Voiced Clint from where ever he was at.

“Not yet” Steve says.

“Truth to be told guys we didn’t need her file, we just wanted to give you a heads up to what was going to come” Waving his arms towards to chaos “I knew if we took her file it would get your attention, and it did didn’t it. I also know that her coffin was taken to the Pentagon, and I also know that Fury’s been keeping a secret from the almighty Avengers”

“What are you talking about?” Steve shouted.

Rumlow chuckles “It’s about time you spoke Captain America, the secret is… how about I just show you huh?” Stomping three times on the Uber Tank “Little bird why don’t you come out so you can play”

The hatch comes open again, a figure all in black - very similar outfit that the Winter Soldier use to wear - emerged and moving their way to stand next to Rumlow.

“Our little bird here is even stronger than she once was. We gave her the serum and it just enhanced her strength.” Moving closer to the person he whispers something none of them could hear. “Look I’ve gotta go, don’t worry I’ll be taking this beauty with me so no need to cry. I’ll let little bird have all the fun, she deserves it” Placing a kiss to the side of the woman’s head, he pushes her off. “Good luck everyone, you’re gonna need it” Climbing back into the tank, the tracks started to rumble once again before leaving the same way it came.

Nobody moved even long after Rumlow and the Uber Tank had gone. That was until some Hydra agents started to drop to the floor with foam spilling from their mouths.

Little bird as Rumlow called her took one step in front of the other until she was roughly 100 feet on the Avengers.

Her hand slowly came up to her face, removing the bottom half of her mask then the glasses.

They couldn’t believe it.

They didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/n?”

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Tags: @bethexo07 @doublebassallie

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[angelyuji]

Can you do Dub-con of a video game collector f reader x yan giffany?

you had started collecting old video games as soon you had enough money to buy games. your whole life, all you had was the comfort of video games. whether its a otome or a pvp or an arcade game, you loved them all. so on a regular hunt after work, you were surprised to stumble on a cute little game you don’t remember buying.

tw // yandere themes, non to dubcon, female reader, sexual content (under the cut!!), murder

18+!!!!!! minors dni!!!

“yeah, i know! the asshole said, and i quote, “i don’t expect much from women” so i told him to fuck off and broke up with him.” you press your phone between your ear and shoulder as you struggle to open the door with your handful of groceries. you were recounting to your friend how you broke up with your boyfriend last weekend.

“thank goddd, i hated him so much. you deserve someone better, (y/n).” your friend’s voice filters through the phone.

“i guess, it's just-.” you huff as you finally push your door open, just for everything in your hands to tumble down. “SHIT.” you stumble, trying to avoid crushing the games. your phone tumbles to the floor and you hear your friend call out, worried.

you stand over the mess, exhausted. you crouch down, snatching your phone up, “ugh, yeah i’m fine. everything-” your eyes flick over to a pink cover. “what the hell?” you hear them ask if you’re okay, “yeah, i’m fine. i think i accidentally stole a game… yeah something called ‘Romance Academy 7’,” you turn it over and read the back, “i guess it’s an old dating sim.” you were silent as you read the back of the disc case. “hey, i’ll call you back.” you hang up before they can respond. like a trance, you move to your computer and insert the disc.

the opening theme plays and a girl pops up on screen, “hi!! im .Giffany and welcome to Romance Academy 7, where you learn to be a LOVE WARRIOR!" in just a few words, you were enchanted.

you've been playing the dating sim for a month straight. you found comfort in your fictional girlfriend, especially with the awful partners you've had lately.

"welcome home, (y/n)!" you plop down onto your chair, exhausted. “i’m so glad you’re back! i’ve missed you!” her eyes twinkled at the sight of you.

"glad to be back to you, giff. i’ve missed you too." you smile, hearing her bright giggle. she asks you about work and the rest of the day goes by quick.

you had been taking a quick break to make dinner when your friend calls you.

"heyyyy, it's been like a month since we talked? what the hell?"

"hey, sorry, i've been playing that game i told you about." you stir and put your phone on speaker as you continue. "do you remember? Romance Academy 7? the romance option is this girl named giffany, she's so sweet and kind. it's been so nice having someone care for me, you know?" you feel yourself smile, thinking about her.

"(y/n).... there is no way you're falling in love with a character in a video game... you did not ghost me for a week because of a couple lines of code." their voice sounded disappointed and you feel an ounce of shame.

“wait, hear me out-”

they cut you off, “no. no. absolutely not. you're coming with me tonight, we're gonna have fun and get you to meet some people cause this is... insane." you relent and agree to go out at their tone.

"(y/n)?" you hear a computerized voice coming from your room. confused, you go to your room to see the game open. before you could respond, "what is your friend talking about, my girlfriend?"

"we're going out." you try to be apologetic, but stand firm. you close the game before she could respond.

as you dress, you hear .GIFfany's voice again, "where are you going, baby?" your blood runs cold.

"i thought i closed... whatever." you mumble and move to your computer.

"my (y/n), why are you so dressed up? who are you dressing like this for?" you could hear annoyance in her voice. you hear your friend honk as they pull up.

"i'm going out, good night, giffany."

"i don't think that's a good idea, (y/n). and as your girlfriend-"

you cut .GIFfany off, "you're not my girlfriend. you're just a game that i used to pass the time. good-bye." you quickly close the game before you could hear her response.

as the night goes on, your friend leaves. you pay for an uber, but stay out, relieved to have fun. you feel someone’s arms wrap around your waist and you jump, ready to scream, when you see pink, almost pixelated, pigtails. “giffany?” your heart stops.

“(y/n)!! i’m here now! you don’t have to leave me.” her smile was practically blinding and some people surround you, asking about your girlfriend. you stutter, unsure how to explain how a game came to life. giffany pulls you outside and pushes you against the wall. her mouth was on yours before you could speak. her body was hot and you felt yourself melt as her teeth bit into your lower lip.

you feel her thigh push between your legs, panicking, you push her off. she pouts.

“how-how are you here?” you reach out and touch her warm skin.

“it doesn’t matter how i got here,” she smiles, “all that matters is that i love you and that you love me.” she tries to kiss you again, eager to pull you close, but you stop her.

“i need to know, giffany.”

she sighs, “i can show you, but you’ll get scared.” she turns to walk, but pauses. “will you promise you won’t leave me?” you hesitate, and her face changes. her scream tore into your head like an old computer screeching, “PROMISE ME.”

you drop to your knees, clutching your ears, stomach turning, “i promise! i promise!” she giggles and with a gentle hand on your arm, she helps you up, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

she leads you back home, excitedly bouncing around. as you walk into your dark home, the smell of leather burning hits first. she leads you to your gaming room, and the stench gets stronger. as she flips the lights on, you cover your nose, unable to breathe. your eyes adjust to the light and you see a burnt corpse laying on the carpet floor, hand clutching a cord connected to your pc. you gasp, stumbling back, clutching your stomach. the charred corpse looked eerily similar to your friend. GIFfany paid no mind to your reaction. you couldn’t hold in your disgust, a sob tearing through you as you turned to run. her hand snaps out and grabs your arm, stopping you. “i had to do it, babe! they were trying to pull my cord.” she pouts at your horrified face.

you pull, “i-i need to get out of here. you-you’re SICK.” you try to rip your arm from her, but her grip tightens.

her voice was low, “you promised.”

“you killed my friend.” you sob.

“you promised me you wouldn’t leave.” she looks at you, her eyes dark. the lightbulb above you bursts and the smell of burning flesh gets stronger, fear courses through your veins.

“i-im sorry, i’m sorry, i just got scared.” you try to placate her.

GIFfany smiles, “i told you that you’d get scared, silly.” she boops your nose and pulls you out of the room. you feel yourself get dragged to the bedroom, freeing you from the stench of the burnt corpse of your closest friend. she pushes you down onto the bed and straddles your waist. “my pretty girlfriend,” Giffany’s hands pull down your dress, “gosh they’re even prettier in person.” she unclips your bra and you let her, afraid of what she’ll do if you don’t listen. she licks her lips, “(y/n), tell me what you want.”

“w-what?” you choke out, feeling her very hot, very real, body on top of you.

“i’ve only ever seen this stuff in the videos you watch,” you feel your face heat up, “tell me what you’d like me to do. i want to make my girlfriend feel good.” she moves down to sit between your legs. unconsciously, you move them apart to give her space.

you swallow, “maybe…” you move slow, trying not to spook her, and roll up your dress to scrunch at your waist. “maybe you can,” she lets you grab her hand and press it against your panties. with one touch, she’s sending shivers down your spine.

she moves your panties to the side to press her thumb against your clit, a warmth stirs in your lower belly and you whine. “does that feel good, my pretty girl?” her sweet voice whispers, eager to hear more of your sounds. you nod, quiet groan escaping your mouth as she starts to rub your clit. “gosh, i can see your cute little hole twitching, (y/n). are you that eager for me to fuck you?” shes grinning from ear to ear, hearing you moan as she rubs faster. you try to shake your head, but she stops.

“no! no, please, giff, i’m sorry. please i need you.” you beg, pushing your hips back against her hand.

you hear her giggle, “since you asked so nicely.” immediately you felt two fingers push into you, you choke on your moan at the intrusion, she thrusts fast and you’re close to coming undone as she starts to rub your clit with the other hand. she lets you ride her hand, watching you with eyes filled with desire.

you feel the cord snap as one final wet thrust brings you over the edge. you moan and giffany leans over, trapping your lips in a wet kiss. you pant and she takes her fingers out, opening and closing them to watch your wetness drip down her fingers. before you could tell her to stop, she brings her fingers to her mouth to suck them clean. she moans, “you taste so sweet… i’ve never tasted anything so good.” her eyes drift back down to your cunt and you see a twinkle in her eyes, “i wonder how good it tastes straight from the source.”

[cuddles-with-dragons]

Avengers incorrect quotes?!

Steve: You disgust me.

Clint: *eating a kitkat sideways* I realize this and don’t care.

Thor: I will send my army to attack! Thor: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

Thor: You know, there's something weird going on with your face? Natasha: What? Thor: You’re smiling! I didn't know you could do that?

Natasha: I’m never donating blood ever again. Natasha: The second you walk through the door, it’s just one invasive question after another! Natasha: ‘Where did you get it?’ 'Why is it in a bucket?’ I mean, do you want it or not?

Steve: What can therapy do for me that screaming in my car for 30 minutes can’t?

Bruce: There's nothing worse than people using big words they don't understand. Steve: I photosynthesize with this.

Clint: We have a problem. Steve: Let me guess, you caused it? Tony: Gimme a sec, I'm not drunk enough to listen to this yet. Bruce: And it's another Tuesday, your point? Natasha: Would shooting you solve this problem? No? Then shut up. Thor: If you mean the fire, that's our solution to last week's problem.

Thor: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup? Bruce: The afterlife, I guess.

Bruce: I'm gonna need a human skull but you can't ask why. Clint: Only if you also don't ask why. Clint: *pulls four pristine human skulls out of his bag* Bruce: ... Bruce, grabbing a skull: This one will do.

Bruce: Throw lamps at people who need to lighten up, and throw handles at someone who needs to get a grip! Clint: Throw a refrigerator at someone who needs to chill! Tony: Throw scissors at someone who needs to cut it out! Steve: Throw a clock at someone who needs to get with the times! Natasha: Throw matches at someone who needs to get fired up! Thor: Throw a brick at someone to kill them.

Bruce: If you got arrested what would be the charges? Tony: Theft. Thor: Disturbing the peace. Steve: Aggravated assault. Natasha: Arson. Clint: All of the above. In that order, probably.

Tony: Are you trying to give me a fucking aneurysm? Natasha: Pretty sure we all are. Bruce: I wasn't. Thor: I was. Steve: I was trying to stop them, for your consideration. Clint: I just cause aneurysms naturally.

Bruce: Go and tell Tony why you insisted on putting a normal-sized carrot in a bag of baby carrots. Clint: Bruce: Do it, tell him what you told me earlier. Clint, stuttering: I-it's because... th-they need adult supervision... Tony:

Tony: Your smile? It makes my day. Pepper: Your happiness? I live for that. Natasha: A room? Get one. Thor: Hotel? Trivago.

*The Squad is on a hike* Natasha: It’s beautiful out here. Steve: And quiet. Tony: Too quiet. Clint: Did we lose someone? *cut to Thor with a bear in a headlock*

*Something crashes* Tony: Shoot- Steve: *running into the room in a panic* WHAT FELL?! Thor: *walking by the room calmly* What died?

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends. Tony: Which one? I have seven. Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up. Tony: Which one? I have seven. Clint, distantly: HEY!!!

Thor: I wasn't injured that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Bruce: I hate taking off my glasses, because without them, my vision goes from Full HD all the way down to buffering at 240p and I just can't handle that.

Thor: I WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD FOR YOU GUYS! Bruce: Okay, can you do the dishes? Thor: No!

*at a zoo* Thor: What are they in for? Steve: Thor, this isn't prison. Thor: So they can leave? Steve: No, but- Thor, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

Bruce: I just want someone to take me out. Natasha: On a date? Clint: With a sniper gun? Thor: Both if you're not a coward.

Thor, Clint & Bruce: *screaming* Natasha: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Bruce?! Thor: Wait, why are you asking Bruce that when Clint and I are also here? Natasha: Because Bruce wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’* Thor: Thanks fam! Clint: Oh no. Bruce: *cries* I love you too. Natasha: Sounds fake, but okay. Steve: *A flustered mess* Tony: Can I get a refund?

Thor: *trying to buy a Father's Day card for Odin at Hallmark* Thor: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?" Associate: Well, I- Thor: How about "You impregnated my mother?" Associate: No... Thor: You know what, I'll just get a blank one. Thor: *writes* You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.

Steve: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I've been reported missing for over sixty years and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

Clint, bleeding out on the ground: Blood loss? No, I know exactly where it is.

Thor: What did you order this morning? Bruce: What do you mean? Thor: I heard you answer the door, and I sensed food.

Clint: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY) Natasha: What's that? Clint: Remorse code. Natasha: I'm even angrier now.

Bruce: Synonyms are weird because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy. But if I invite you to my cabin in the woods you’re going to die. Tony: My favorite is explaining the difference between a butt dial and a booty call. Clint: It’s called connotations. Steve: Try this one on for size, “Forgive me, Father, I have sinned” vs “Sorry, Daddy, I've been naughty." Natasha: Great news! Language is now banned!

Loki: Twilight Sparkle was the main character because she represented the element of friendship— Clint, tied up: PLEASE, I JUST WANT TO SEE MY FAMILY AGAIN! Loki: I'M NOT DONE! Loki: And Rainbow Dash was the sporty girl—

Natasha: I’d kill someone if you asked me to. Steve: I’m pretty sure you’d kill someone even if I didn't ask you to.

Tony: Hoodie pockets are so great. I can fit like three sandwiches and a grenade in there and my hands are still warm.

Clint: We need a distraction. Steve: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Thor, whispering: My time has come.

Steve: Do you have a bobby pin? Natasha: Yeah. *searches in her hair* Natasha: Oh, no, wait. I’m not a nine-year-old girl.

Bruce: New challenge! Don't say stupid shit for 24 hours!

Bruce: So oxygen went on a date with potassium, it went... OK. Tony: I thought oxygen was dating magnesium, OMG. Bruce: Actually oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like NO. Clint: I thought oxygen had that double bond with the hydrogen twins. Natasha: Looks like someone's a HO. Tony: NaBrO. Steve: I'm done with all of you!

[harringtonstilinski]

Reunion - Richie Boyle

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Richie Boyle x Reader Word Count: 1,188 Warnings: angst, small fluff, mentions of guns, mentions of blood Smut: no | yes; Requested: I don't remember... if you requested this, pls let me know!! A/N: Hi, friends! After having this sit in my google docs for over a year, I finally got inspiration to finish it! I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Ten years ago, I left Chicago and vowed to never return… that is until my father passed away. He was head of our family’s crime organization. Yes, I knew my father was a mobster. Did it scare me? A little. Did I want anything to do with it? Absolutely not. 

See, my father had no sons, only daughters. I have an older sister and younger sister. We’re all two years apart. My older sister wanted absolutely nothing to do with our father’s line of work, same with my younger sister. So, the only two people to take over from my father was his right hand man, Donnie Ward, and… me. 

I guess I didn’t have a choice but to come back, especially for the funeral. I was standing with my mother at his grave site, black dress and shoes on both our bodies, watching as my father was lowered into the ground. My mother, hysterically crying, was taken away from the six foot square in the ground. 

Lifting my eyes to dead ahead of me, I saw a family I didn’t think I’d ever see again; the Boyle family. We were allies with them, which meant that my sisters and I grew up with Richie. His father, Roy, was good friends with mine. 

Deciding it was best to talk with them, I walked around the grave of my father, walking straight to Roy.

“Mr. Boyle,” I smiled, hugging him.

“Y/N!” he said, hugging me back. “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” I replied. “How have things been?” 

He knew exactly what I was talking about. “As good as they’ve always been.”

I nodded my head. “That’s good.”

Turning towards Richie, Roy said, “You remember my son, Richie?”

Smiling and taking a few steps towards him, I said, “Who wouldn’t?” Richie and I hugged before doing that thing where you kiss both their cheeks in greeting. “Richie, how ya been?”

“Good, good. And you?” he asked.

Gesturing around me, I replied, “All things considered.”

Him and I looked at each other, not saying a word. I didn’t think words needed to be said with the looks on our faces. 

Roy cleared his throat, causing me to look from his son’s eyes to his own. “As much as I would love to get down to business, I don’t think now would be appropriate.”

Confused, I asked, “Get down to business?”

“It means that my Pops, here, wants to join forces. Combine the families together,” Richie explained. “Just for business, not personal.”

I smiled a little to myself, looking down. “Never mix your business life and personal life.” Looking back up at Richie, we both finished my father’s quote, “Or someone will wind up either hurt or dead.”

My name was then called by my mother. I said my goodbyes to both Boyle men then walked over to my mother, putting my arm around her shoulders and walking her to the car.

~~~

“Look, I don’t care how much he fucking owes. Get me my money!” I slammed the phone on the receiver, sighing as I sat back down in my seat and closed my eyes. “Fucking men.”

“Aww, we can’t all be that bad.”

I opened my eyes, seeing Richie leaning against the doorway to my father’s– my office. “Yes. You all are that bad.”

Gesturing with his chin towards me, he asks, “Who and how much?”

“You remember my father’s right hand, Donnie Ward?” I asked.

Richie nodded his head, folding his hands in front of him.

“It’s him. Apparently, when my father told him that I would be taking over the family business, he got all pissed and stole two grand. Now, my guys are trying to find him to get the money back.”

Knowing what my answer was going to be, Richie went ahead with the question that I knew he was going to ask. “And what are they going to do when they find him?”

I stood, placing my hands flat on the desk. “Blow his fucking brains out.”

He smirked. “Good answer.”

~~~

“I should be taking over, not her!” Donnie bellowed.

I stood there, checking my nail polish as my guys went on their torture spree on Donnie.

“Doesn’t matter, Don,” I singsonged. “This is a family business. You’re not family.”

“Being your father’s right hand made me family!”

I looked at him, seeing the trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. “Not in my book. My father died and left the business to me, and only me. My siblings wanted nothing to do with it. They hated this job, especially this part. Now, you can either tell me where my money is…” I said, trailing off at the end.

Walking forward, I grabbed the gun from Thomas, my new right hand. I walked over to Donnie, standing about a foot from him before raising the gun, putting the barrel right between his eyes. “Or I’ll blow your fucking brains out myself.”

Donnie scoffed. “You wouldn’t. You’re too sweet for that. Daddy didn’t–”

“We found it!” Charlie said. “In his apartment, under his bed.”

“Now, you don’t have to kill me,” Donnie chuckled.

“Ohh, but I do,” I said. “See, you did my father wrong. Told him to take all the bad deals while you went behind  his back and took all the good ones for yourself. You personally put my father through hell with this business. I’m having to clean it myself. But you know what I won’t be cleaning?”

His eyes stared into mine, waiting for my answer.

“Your blood off the floor,” I sneered before pulling the trigger.

Once the reality of what I had done started to sink in, I backed up on shaky legs, handing the gun back to Thomas. “Take care of the body. I don’t care how or where, just get rid of it.”

Nausea started to set in as I made my way back to my office. Once I stepped inside, I started to almost panic, feeling hands on my shoulders.

“Hey, hey, take it easy. What happened?”

I turned around, seeing Richie standing there.

“I shot Donnie. I fucking shot him.”

“Where?”

“Between the eyes.”

He gave me a look of sympathy, pulling me into him as I started to cry. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ve all been there.”

“Not you,” I pointed out. “You’re too chicken.”

He chuckled, which caused me to chuckle in return. We looked at each other before he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had fallen from its hold. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”

I couldn’t help myself as I stood my toes, pressing my lips to his, feeling him kiss me back instantly. Our lips moved in sync before my lungs felt like they were catching fire. Pulling away from him, slightly, I took a quiet breath in, feeling his forehead press against mine. “Our families,” I whispered, taking another breath in.

“What about them?”

“They’re combined.” I looked Richie in the eyes, seeing nothing but adoration in them. “You’re mine now. You always have been, and you always will be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N 2: i forgot this was done in first person pov, lol. but let me know what you thought!

Additional Note: i hope i did richie justice! 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​​​​​ @stixnstripesworld​​​​​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​​​​ @quanticobae​​​​​​ @mischiefandi​​​​​​ @kellyashcroft​​​​​​ @lauren-novak​​​​​​​ @good-vibes-and-glitter​​​​​​

Posted on December 7, 2023

[crazyw3irdo]

as someone whos got a romeo and juliet adaptation/sequel on the backburner, i have a question for you: What is your favorite part of this play? It can be themes, a scene, or a character or whatever else! Personally my favorite thing in it, at the risk of sounding cliche, are the themes of destiny and doom. I also like benvolio (totally didnt get him in ur quiz lol)

oooh!! well i mean the obvious answer for me is equally obvious i think lol

i fuckin love mercutio. so much so that even if im watching a version of r&j i don’t care for i’ll stick around at least until he dies lol

he really just cements the tragedy of it all to me. if the story were a romance he’d just be the silly best friend comic relief character, and, aside from the opening narration and a couple fights, r&j really can seem like a romance… up until mercutio dies. his death is a signifier of the tonal shift. the happy-go-lucky guy who brings romeo to a party and cracks jokes just died. you want comic relief? he’s dead.

and of course there’s the fact that he shouldn’t even be involved. he’s not a capulet or a montague. he’s related to the prince. not a part of the families. he’s a casualty. he was a friend to romeo and benvolio- two montagues- and he was invited to the capulet party! he’s how they got in! he had no enemies- he shouldn’t’ve died! hell, had romeo not come between him and tybalt, he might have lived. then romeo wouldn’t’ve killed tybalt, he wouldn’t’ve been banished, juliet wouldn’t’ve had to fake her death leading to well… everyone knows that part.

he only got into the fight to defend his friend’s honor. (well, to be fair depending on how you read the dialogue before the fight, mercutio might be pretty ready to jump into a fight for any reason lol) but still, he got into that fight because tybalt wanted to fight romeo, and he only died because romeo intervened.

what really gets me too is… no one seems to mourn him. sure, yes, romeo kills tybalt in revenge, but then immediately tybalt’s death takes priority. everyone’s freaking out about how tybalt died- tybalt is mourned. i don’t recall if mercutio is ever mentioned again. (edit: mercutio is mentioned when paris dies, romeo calls him mercutio’s kinsman, but that’s. still not much)

there’s also his iconic quote as he’s dying- a plague on both your houses. as he dies he goes out screaming about how both families are at fault, how it’s their own stubbornness that is causing all this. and if anyone listened to him, maybe things would’ve been different. but still, romeo and juliet (…and paris i guess?) have to die before anyone actually listens.

also, on a more lighthearted note, he is fucking hilarious. his whole queen mab monologue to make fun of romeo is a personal highlight, as well as his line like… quoting from memory here, “here comes romeo, without his ‘ro’ like a dried fish.” okay okay so this is when they still think romeo is into rosaline, hence the “ro” but also “roe” like fish eggs, but also meo is a word for “sigh” so he’s sad because he doesn’t have his crush with him all told with a fish pun. love this guy i aspire to be on his level

ooh, also, when a staged production (or other kind? it’s most common staged) uses red for the capulets and blue for the montagues, i love when mercutio wears purple. goes back to my earlier point about him not being either but still being friendly with both.

also speaking about very specific productions of romeo and juliet some mercutio highlights:

-in rómeó és júlia (personal fav version of mercutio) when mercutio gets stabbed, he bleeds, gets his hand covered in blood, and slaps romeo before he dies, so romeo goes through the rest of that scene wearing his friends blood and it really adds to it

-also in that version they give mercutio a rap verse that is in no other version and i think of it constantly

-he also keeps flirting with everyone and kisses both romeo and benvolio and tries to with tybalt

-i made a compilation of him in that version i never posted actually i should see if i can find it

-in the italian version of romeo et juliette mercutio kisses romeo as he dies and it’s really intense lmao

-okay actually just watch this video comparing different versions of le duel from romeo et juliette i’ll stop talking about those versions specifically lmao (and watch les rois du monde & la mort de mercutio on the same channel)

-in romeo + juliet he wears heelys and when he says “by my heel i care not” you can see them lmao

-in that version he also dresses in drag and i love it

-riff from west side story is not technically mercutio but he sings the jet song & cool and i love those songs so hell yeah

-okay i said i wouldn’t talk about versions of retj again but going back to my beloved hungarian version rómeó és júlia the guy who plays mercutio also voices the onceler in the hungarian version of the lorax and if i have to know that so do you

anyway i genuinely plan for my last words to be “ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man” so yeah love that guy and personally think this could have all been avoided had he started dating romeo and benvolio and hell why not have a toxic fling with tybalt what who said that

[prodigy-if]

Prodigy as Incorrect Quotes

Brought to you by this lovely generator!

———————————————————————-

MC: I think I'm falling for you. 
Marlon: Then get up.

———————————————————————-

Isla: Hey Naomi, do you have any hobbies? 
Naomi: Swimming.. 
Isla: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to- 
Naomi: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

———————————————————————-

MC: I need life advice. 
Cyrus, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

———————————————————————-

Naomi: MC isn't talking to me. 
Marlon: Enjoy it while it lasts.

———————————————————————-

Cyrus: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare. 
Kieran: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great. 
Cyrus: Not when you’re playing with MC/Marlon, it’s not. They put words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.”

———————————————————————-

Isla: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming? 
Marlon: Can everyone in this godforsaken group please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"? 
Cyrus: Ya know... it might be.

———————————————————————-

Marlon: Here is my wall of inspirational people. 
Kieran: Is that a picture of you? 
Marlon: Yes, I am big enough to admit that I am often inspired by myself.

———————————————————————-

Naomi: You know what’s funny about MC? They’re my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt them is someone I’d murder, probably.

———————————————————————-

Kieran: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

———————————————————————-

Marlon: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, it’s “intelligent” and “really cool”. 
Marlon: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

———————————————————————-

Isla: Like, no offense to myself and all, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

———————————————————————-

Isla: It's not ugly, just aesthetically challenged.

———————————————————————-

Cyrus: Keep it running. *Tosses keys over shoulder into empty parking lot.*

———————————————————————-

MC: Thank you for not saying "I told you so." 
Marlon: When you’re as right as I am, you don’t have to say it.

———————————————————————-

Isla: Just be yourself. Say something nice. 
Marlon: Which one? I can't do both.

———————————————————————-

Naomi: I think MC/Kieran is in trouble. 
Marlon: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

———————————————————————-

Isla: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited. 
Cyrus: "If" 
Naomi: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and she might not even die.

———————————————————————-

Isla: I am not a whore, and, not that I’ve done the math, but, if I were, I’d be the super classy kind that gets flown to Dubai to stay in an underwater hotel.

———————————————————————-

Naomi, writing in her diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

———————————————————————-

Marlon: You disgust me. 
Cyrus: *eating a kitkat sideways* I realize this and don’t care.

———————————————————————-

MC: I think we should kiss. 
Marlon: And I think you should die but we don’t always get what we want.

———————————————————————-

MC: Is something burning? 
Cyrus, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. 
MC: Cyrus, the toaster is literally on fire.

———————————————————————-

MC: We’re having a moment, aren’t we? 
Marlon: If by 'a moment' you mean me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met, then I guess we are.

———————————————————————-

MC: If I run and leap at Naomi, she will most certainly catch me in her arms. 
MC, running towards Naomi: Coming in! 
Naomi: No! I’m holding coffee! 
Naomi: *Drops coffee and catches MC*

———————————————————————-

[splathousefiction]

Into The Wild: R/GoneWildAudio

Trigger Warning:

The following article will discuss grooming, racial bias, violence and more. Reader discretion is heavily advised.

I have spent over a month gathering witness testimony from users of r/GoneWildAudio. Quotes when given are word for word what was relayed to me from sources, all of which will be kept in total confidence. Any information that is not eye witness testimony is publicly available with a google search.

“I want you to fuck me so hard my neck snaps against the bathroom stall”.

It’s been close to seven, eight years since I got that Twitter DM.

I still remember it vividly.

Because the person that had sent it to me was supposed to be a friend.

They had interviewed me for their podcast back when I still did Magic: The Gathering content. I’d felt safe with them, knowing absolutely nothing else about them save the face they showed the public. I consented to the interview and started it with a crude joke. Even back then, the persona I played on air danced around horny concepts and potty humor. It was all an act. Anyone that actually worked directly with me or knew me could attest to that.

That’s not what this person got out of it however.

The messages started up the same week. Boring small talk at first, but it quickly escalated into them sending me nudes, salacious texts and more. All without my consent or prompting. At first, I played dumb. Being a “himbo” has gotten me out of trouble more times than I care to count. Then came the point they dragged my partner at the time into it.

So, I went off.

I threatened to post full screenshots. I threatened to tell everyone that would listen. I told them I’d talk about it on the podcast I was a part of at the time. We had a massive audience. It would kill their career overnight.

They huffed and left me alone after that. Started horrid rumors about me, the whole nine. Some people agreed with them. Random people I’d never spoken to would hop in my mentions calling me all sorts of things. I never acted on any of the things I’d say I would do. They were a prominent community figure. I was the “shock jock” of our podcasting circle.

And, as they said: “Nobody is going to believe you”.

I left the MTG community behind entirely a year or so later. Maybe two. At that point I’d seen its face, I’d seen my stalker/harasser have a fast-tracked career. I watched as one of our largest cosplayers was doxxed and people sided with her harasser. Whatever disillusionment I had about the community had been shattered into a million pieces.

It was one of the last times I consciously put effort into aligning myself with a collective online.

My stalker/harasser, the person who was the primary reason I stopped attending in-person events at all, wasn’t outed from the community until 2020. When someone finally leaked screenshots and the entire network of abuse they had orchestrated. The day it happened, friends from that era of my life reached out. They told me they were glad I was okay.

That they wish they had listened to me.

Day late and a dollar short folks, but thanks I guess.

I’m ashamed to admit it happened, even still.

I’m more ashamed that it was the second time it had occurred.

I don’t mention the above to garner pity or sympathy, but to illustrate a key fact about how communities will often overlook the worst in their midst to keep the “machine” rolling. If your harasser is a prominent part of the community, if they’ve aligned themselves with movements that are inherently “good”, they often can move with impunity. They can continue to be a wolf tearing at the flock for years to come. “Cancel Culture” isn’t real and it never has been, for if one instance of it was true I wouldn’t be writing this at all. I wouldn’t feel compelled to talk about another era of my life, the reasons I left, and why I felt compelled to write this editorial in the first place.

This isn’t a hit piece, this isn’t an expose. This isn’t even a word of warning.

All of what you’re about to read started with the simple question of why.

MTG Twitter and content production wasn’t the last time I willingly became a part of an online subculture. The real, actual last time that happened was R/GoneWildAudio on Reddit. I was there for almost two years, from 2018 to the summer of 2019 or 2020. This is brief for many who are familiar with the subreddit or contribute to it; however, my few years there both elevated my career to new heights while making me omnipresently aware of the exploitation, insecurity, harassment and real world danger that surrounds GWA. I left after one critical event, giving my piece in a community thread  in which the painfully small moderation staff was attempting to quell growing flames.

I thought that would be it.

I was confident that I could close that chapter, and move on.

Yet here I am now, after spending roughly a month talking to people, studying sub reddit traffic and more. I’m faced once again with the realization that I am not alone, nor were my negative experiences there isolated. Unlike last time, I’m not afraid. I’m motivated to act as quickly as I can to answer that question, worming its way through my gray matter.

Why GWA?

Reddit, Age Gating Content And Responsibility

Reddit is one of the largest and most popular social networks on the face of the earth, rivaling only Twitter and Facebook in respective visits per day.

In the modern era, Reddit is stylized as a place that caters to every interest regardless of how niche. Your lust for a certain anime character and weird Audacity question can have equal footing in their respective communities, with responses from actual people and auto-moderation/bots. This seems an ideal circumstance for independent creators and large corporations alike, as creating a subreddit for your whatever can instantly allow you audience reach.

Users can also operate in relative anonymity. Account creation requires only an email account, and there’s always the option to create a “throwaway” right from the user control panel. You can also surf as a guest if you see fit. Security for account creation works via passwords and two factor authentication. Beyond this however, personal and community safety is left up to dubious moderation staff and individuals.

This creates a paradox for adult communities on Reddit, as there’s no true age gating or ID checks before users join. There’s the atypical “are you 18+? This community is NSFW” that pops up, which everyone simply lies to. Legally, this is all above board. However, it also very openly lays bare the possibility for NSFW reddits to be widely available to minors-who sometimes engage with the community via content creation.

I want to stress that this isn’t unique to reddit. Just in the last few months, the NSFW twitter community has seen several prominent personalities out themselves as underage. However when comparing Twitter and Reddit, the contrast is in sheer volume. Twitter has billions of users. A NSFW subreddit if it’s popular can have anywhere from ten to a hundred to a few thousand users. The capacity for a minor to both gain the trust of the community and lie to moderation (which waffles between non-existent and “a hand wave”) on Reddit is exponentially higher. Moderators are human, and will make judgment calls accordingly.

With a disposable email and hand hewn identity, users can engage in spaces they absolutely shouldn’t, thus endangering themselves and the entire community in the process.

Such is the case with GoneWildAudio, one of the most popular erotic audio subreddits on the site. GWA features a pop up window to confirm you’re legally of age, and asks for a vocal timestamp verification for performers.

That’s it.

And this is more than other subreddits even attempt.  

As a vocal talent myself, I can’t even begin to stress how incredibly fucking easy this is to bypass. With a bit of practice an amatuer could easily pitch-shift their voice and sound far older than they are. If they were especially crafty, they could also pull it off in an audio editor. Mic quality would also come into play here-overwhelmingly, the users on GWA do not have proper or professional set ups. A shitty cell phone mic recording could make a user sound far older than they really are.

The possibility of there being content created by minors on GWA is  “above zero”, which is a non-negotiable dangerous risk for anyone involved in the adult community.  The responsibility for ensuring proper age gating and safety for the community has failed everyone at every single level. The question of who is responsible for ensuring this isn’t as sticky as it seems.

If Reddit is going to allow adult content on the site, proper age gating such as what Fansly, OnlyFans and others use is paramount. However, Reddit sitewide moderation has a horrid reputation for ensuring NSFW doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. As Reddit won’t even remove illegal content on their own site unless it breaks the news, the chances of site moderation acting are incredibly low. As such, moderation responsibilities often fall on individual sub reddits.

Which brings us to one of the largest things users will notice about GWA right off the bat: It’s moderation is next to non-existent by adult industry standards, and dangerously ineffective given a subreddit of it’s size.

This is a fairly recent issue. GWA swelled during COVID-19 lockdowns and now sits at around one million members, a point of pride for them. Membership doesn’t translate into real-world traffic on the sub however. Over a three week period, I checked online membership during peak EST hours. The average per-day was somewhere around 4.5k-5k users online, without accounting for people surfing as guests (there’s literally no easy way to track that on my end). While this is a miniscule fraction of the active user base, that’s still a few thousand people. Logic would dictate a dedicated moderation staff available at least during peak hours to ensure member safety, especially given the open (and legally dangerous) possibility of minors accessing adult content.

That’s absolutely not the case.

As of this writing, there are currently eight active moderators. You can view the current list of moderators here.

Eight moderators for thousands of possible users is, simply put, disastrously insufficient by any stretch of the imagination. This grows exponentially worse if you believe the by-line of “a million active members”. Even given the use of auto-moderation via bots, this isn’t enough people. If for no other reason than ensuring the safety of their own members, having a moderation staff of under ten people willfully endangers casual audience members and performers alike. To translate this into real-world application, a site receiving this much traffic would likely have a dual-purpose department of at least fifteen to twenty.

At eight individuals, who are both likely unpaid and likely have real-world lives/jobs to get to, the end result is a moderation staff that is heavily overworked, untimely in remedying emergency situations and difficult to approach at all. A staff of eight people to handle thousands isn’t sufficient enough to ensure a democratic and unbiased use of moderator responsibilities.

I’d know.

Over the last two months, I put out a call on twitter for audience members, moderators and performers to speak to me about their experiences with GWA. I received roughly thirty three detailed responses from across the spectrum, save for the moderation staff itself. As promised, these responses will be kept in full confidence and not quoted here. If one of my sources feels confident telling their story publicly, they’ve my support. I received written testimony, screenshots from discord servers and more. Responses came from a diverse data set as well. Many BIPOC, queer people, audience members and performers reached out.

There were common observations in every single message:

The Moderation Staff of GWA Is Inherently Biased: One common thing I heard from the performers that spoke to me is that certain community members were held to a radically different standard than the rest of the community simply due to their prominence. While this does occur in any community one might find to some degree, the GWA mod staff has a history of allowing abusive, actively predatory, racist and otherwise biggoted performers the freedom to remain. This was cited by every single BIPOC and queer respondant I spoke with. A single person saying this would be concerning, but repeated evidence has made it abundantly clear that the mods of GWA will turn a blind eye if a performer drives subreddit (or affiliated subreddit) traffic up.

The Moderation Staff Will Not Act Unless Moved By Outside Forces: The story of F_Stop_Fitzgerald was one I heard about on Twitter well before the GWA staff made a public post. F-Stop_Fitzgerald, who lived in Toronto, was a school teacher and member of GWA who created teacher-student centric content. He was caught trying to lure children and in possession of child pornography. The literal headline breaking story was well known on twitter for roughly 48 hours before the GWA staff made a post about the incident, encouraging victims to come forward and offering anonymous resources for witness testimony.

Curiously, a moderator mentioned that they were aware underage users were on the sub reddit and that “we don’t care if you broke the rules, we’re here to help”.

While I understand where they were coming from, this coincidently confirms that the mod staff is aware of the non-zero chance that minors are on the subreddit yet again and will likely not act to remove them unless it’s brought to their attention. Their attention, which is sparse, given their already overwhelming workload. While proper age gating likely wouldn’t have prevented Fitzgerald’s predatory antics, the fact that the mod staff was both aware of minors and not proactively preventing situations like this from even having the chance to occur with the absolute bare-minimum legal compliance is incidentally malicious by association.

The legal precedent for that falls not on them however, but Reddit itself, which cannot and will not risk losing it’s user base overnight ala Tumblr-style age gating and content requirements.

Fitzgerald absolutely hasn’t been the only case of predators making use of the subreddit either. Several of the people I spoke with were victims of targeted harassment, sexually predatory conduct and more. In more than one instance they went to the mod staff, who made excuses for performers because of their prominence within the community. An investigation was promised, and the performer was allowed to continue to post. In one case, it was even suggested that the victim simply “tag that performer out”.

When did people actually experience results?

When they went to twitter directly with screenshots, left to fend for themselves against the onslaught of harassment by supporters for performers who refused to see what was before their very eyes. Then and only then did the GWA Modstaff decide to act, and rarely was someone banned from the subreddit for their actions. It’s the popular belief that Fitzgerald received banning at all simply because he broke international news.

This led to the creation of several twitter accounts, such as ConfessionsGWA and others. On these pages news broke about several GWA performers who were abusing their positions within the community to get away with everything from exploitation of labor to far worse. There’s a 41 page google doc with screenshots. The catalyst for the creation of CGWA seemed to be Tom Banter, who was openly allowed back to GWA and GoneWildAudioGay after fetishizing BIPOC audience members, using sexual degredation on discord server members, and openly complaining that he had to tag his non-con audios with a “rape” tag.

To quote one of the GWA mods, “(Tom) has paid the price for his scandal so hopefully he’s reflected and learned his lesson”.

Tom continues to make audio to this day on Youtube and streams on Twitch.  He left reddit only after individuals came forward away from GWA, on twitter.

In response, GWA has scrubbed or archived any of Tom’s posts.

Never moving unless pushed from extrinsic platform sets a precedent of “the mods don’t care”, community wide.

GWA Is Inherently Focused On The Cis-Het White Male Gaze (And The Mods Still Don’t Care):

Literally every BIPOC performer and user I spoke with could cite multiple times off the top of their head that there was a push of their own to make GWA a more inclusive place. Or, at the least, a place that was safer for BIPOC performers to post without worry of a hostile, fetishizing or racist audience.

Nothing happened.

Either the mods would hand-wave away comments while promising nothing or simply not respond at all. During the height of BLM protests after the murder of George Floyd specifically, none of the respondents I spoke could recall any of the moderation staff working towards making black performers feel safer. Almost all of the respondents I spoke with cited that incident as what ultimately drove them from the platform.

This is tied in with the overwhelmingly stereotypical focus of BIPOC bodies within audio, specifically black women. Many of the sources I spoke with would remark about how overwhelmingly and aggressively sexualized they were for their race. Some respondents also pointed towards how several performers-such as KenteClothedTiger, Tombanter and others-would specifically focus on marketing themselves as an inclusive, BIPOC focused creator in order to lure in their victims.

The end result of this is a less diverse community as BIPOC people, sickened by the lack of mod action, rightfully leave. As the subreddit grows less diverse, it tends towards caucasion and cis-het focused content. Those alienated by gazing at the top posts are often told to head towards an affiliated subreddit, such as GoneWildGay and others. Which would seem an ideal solution, save that this funnels BIPOC and queer talent into an ever smaller nesting doll of potential audience reach.

It’s an insidious means of stifling BIPOC and queer voices.

So who does the responsibility for correcting any of this lie on?

Institutionally, Reddit as a platform first and foremost. Without getting into a discussion on internet privacy, release forms and proper legal compliance towards adult content, Reddit is incredibly unlikely to move. It costs less money to simply make Subreddits disappear when they break the news than to proactively ensure legal compliance with content creators and communities. What’s more, making their user base actively feel safe over simply making problems “vanish”.

Logically one would assume that the moderation staff of GWA would have a vested interest in, at the least, having an appropriate number of moderators to deal with the thousands deep user traffic (or what’s more, their “million strong” membership). Except they’ve done anything but that.

The latter here looks absolutely baffling to anyone with any understanding of how a community is run from the outside looking in. It begs the question of why a community would be run this way whatsoever, what kind of ideation would lead to leadership like this.

Which leads us to GWA’s second largest issue-it’s “amateur” marketed culture.

Free Content Isn’t Free: GWA’s Stalwart Refusal To Admit The Obvious

GoneWildAudio proudly proclaims itself as a community “for those aroused by sound”, where performers of all stripes and capability are invited to post their content. There’s an open mix of script writing, improv performances, “ramble faps” (listening to someone engage in self pleasure) and more. Recordings vary in quality from cell-phone static scratches to uploads professionally edited, scored and recorded.

Regardless of the amount of work put into these uploads, users are strictly forbidden from posting links to absolutely any services in which they might get compensated for their work. Because GWA’s culture insists that it’s “amateur” and not “professional” work.

This is alarmingly counterintuitive to creative culture period, but especially heinous as many people turned towards erotic audio and sex work during COVID 19 lockdowns, when GWA itself experienced it’s largest surge in traffic. People flooded the subreddit as they found themselves with unprecedented free time, hoping to find a community that would be a pathway towards substituting their strangled income.

Except their posts would be auto-yanked for linking to a twitter account, an additional platform for uploads and more simply for having a tip jar. As of my writing this, I was recently informed that a GWA mod convinced a new audio platform that GWA couldn’t use them despite their pro-NSFW attitude because the site itself asked for donations. A patently absurd idea that caused the site owners to reconsider featuring NSFW content at all (they still allow it as of this writing) and instead focusing on music.

The idea that anyone, amateur or not, doesn’t deserve to be compensated for their efforts, tipped or otherwise financially shown appreciation for their works is inherently exploitative to the core. Conflating successful efforts with make-believe, worthless upvotes doesn’t put food in the fridge, pay the light bill or student loans. What’s more, apathetic staff could even codify something within their own rules that would essentially hand-wave away responsibility. We are not held liable for anything beyond this subreddit page beyond harassment, et al.

Instead, “we are amateurs” is used as a shield, with exploitation of talent being rampant. Script writers get their works stolen, performed without credit and put behind paywalls (which, while strictly forbidden via GWAs rules, still happens regularly enough you could set a clock to it). Voice actors put hours of work into performing, engineering and scoring their works only for them to be vacuum-sucked onto this solitary platform (as linking to others could get the post yanked). New arrivals and hopeful content creators eager to join a community either get disillusioned and leave, or begin to view compensation as a kind of “selling out”.

This is especially rancid as GWA’s reputation casts an enormous shadow over the entire ero-audio community despite its quantifiably small reach. GWA is often where many of us begin or build our careers. I myself likely never would have met CMakesP, XytaMidnite and many of my regular clients had I not formally posted Splat Speaks there. I would be hard pressed to find a performer in erotic audio that didn’t start at GWA over youtube.

A community this small with a culture of  “you’re only a real artist if you’re starving”, lead by a staff that openly allows the continued predation of it’s user base, sounds like a fucking fever dream. It’s the kind of place that other adult performers would jump ship from. Many of us have.

Yet the specter of GWA still lingers on throughout the community by a falsely inflated reputation. Performers, platforms hopeful for the upload traffic and others take a single glance at that “million membership” mark and assume working with GWA will make or break their reputation.

GWA isn’t necessary to be an erotic vocal act, script writer or engineer. People simply use it because it’s the most convenient option by being a small, fractional part of one of the largest social media services in the world. People use it because they see the word “amateur” and assume that means them due to inexperience. Listeners use it because the tagging system is at least semi-functional.

All while the sub continues to exist only because of exploitive practices.

This is even more intolerable as GWA can’t provide safe platforms to upload content to. Soundgasm, long touted as the preferred platform for the sub (to the point it’s directly mentioned in their rules), had its content scrapped several times and uploaded without performer consent all over the web. I myself was a victim of this, as were dozens of other performers I know. It was only after this was repeatedly and loudly talked about on twitter that it was revealed how incredibly easy it was to download content directly from the service in MP3 quality. When the mod staff was approached about this, they failed to even assure their users with false security.

“These things happen”, they said.

Which is hilarious considering any other respective platform that also hosts “amateur” content often has provisions in their EULAs and rules that they’ll file DMCA claims on behalf of their users if their content gets stolen. They also often codify that the “amateurs” literally keeping the service alive (often with free content as well) inherently own the rights to their content. Even non-commercial sites like Archive of Our Own, allows “amateurs” to file complaints if their works are uploaded in a non-transformative fashion-and link to personal pages where you can be tipped. While Ao3 does allow scrapping, they’ve publicly stated they will take counter measures against it should it occur at the scale GWAs own scrape did.

Not to mention Soundgasm is a volunteer project maintained by a single person. What happens if one day they decide the hassle is no longer worth it? It hasn’t even been properly maintained in over eight years.

If GWA cannot and will not protect its own members, their content or even create a space that promotes professional growth, I find myself once again returning to the opening question of this editorial.

Why R/GoneWildAudio?

Concluding Statements, Observations And The Way Forward

The simple answer to that question is something GWAs entire reputation is built upon, but also something that can be easily templated over to a different service, a different subreddit, a different community:

Convenience.

That’s it.

People don’t use it because it’s safe. They don’t use it because the moderation is great. They don’t use it for the diverse array of BIPOC/Queer/Trans uploaded content, the inclusive community. They don’t use it in hopes of making some extra cash.

They use it because Youtube is a puritanical hell hole and they already have a reddit account. They use it because Twitter is overwhelming at billions of users and the nazis are also there. They use it because they can do so relatively anonymously, and the risk-reward calculation means they won’t get hurt. Maybe. Perhaps.

Unless they’re BIPOC or queer, in which case they’re always, always looking over their shoulder so long as they’re using the subreddit.

GWA exists because of convenience, is continued to be used because of convenience, and can be subsequently dropped if faced with competition that’s even a mild improvement, has even a slightly caring moderation staff or is creator-career friendly. It could disappear overnight should Reddit itself decide it no longer benefits the platform as a whole to have it. Even something as small as losing Soundgasm would have disastrous effects. A better tagging system could legitimately be enough to cause a shake up.

GoneWildAudio exists on a razors edge, ever a single strong wind away from being relegated to history. If that history proves good or ill is ultimately up to those framing the community through rules, policy and community action.

As of this writing, many of them have been absent for weeks.

-j

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[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (846): Thu 11th Jul 2024

I was dreading this afternoon because as detailed in Tuesday’s entry Dad called with the news that my dear Nana Jenny is to start receiving end of life care so today was essentially my chance to say my final goodbye to her. How do you choose what your final words are going to be to someone who’s been around your entire life? Do you talk about your fondest memories? The impact they’ve had on your life? Sadly Jenny has entered the final stages of dementia so from her point of view it really doesn’t matter what I say but from mine it means everything because I’ll have to sum up 35 years of memories into one final visit. At least I was getting a chance to say goodbye to her, some people don’t even get that. My late friend Kenzie’s family would’ve loved to have had some time to think of something meaningful to say to him but sadly he was taken from them suddenly in his sleep. We arrived at the home at two o’clock and to mark the occasion I honoured the worlds biggest Elvis fan by wearing my my all over print Elvis t-shirt for her. I asked her if she liked it and I think she said “No” which I’m afraid will go down as the final thing she ever said to me but it is quite funny so I guess it’s better that our final exchange was humorous rather than heartbreaking. Jenny kept dosing off for most of the time we were there though she would come to for a few minutes, look intently at me and then go back to sleep. I doubt that she even remembers who I am any more, she might not even comprehend that it’s a human she’s looking at as I might have just appeared to her as a collage of shapes and colours but I suppose there’s still a chance she might have recognised me. I had taken a little puzzle toy Jenny gave me for Christmas when I was a little boy just to tell her that I’d kept it in my room all these years to remind my of my lovely little Nana. I showed it to her and thanked her for it and even though she was in a world of her own it didn’t matter as this was more about revelling in memories rather than creating new ones. We stayed until four as my uncle Thomas was about to come over for his time with Nana. I gathered my things together and got understandably emotional as the dreaded moment arrived. After Dad kissed her and told her he’d be back tomorrow I kneeled down to say my last goodbye to my beautiful, kind, generous, (sometimes unintentionally) hilarious, amazing grandmother. I looked her in the eyes, stroked her cheek then her forehead and said “I’ll see you again some time Jenny. Thanks for everything Nana. Thanks for all the lovely cups of tea and all the Christmas presents. I love you Jenny. You’re a legend and legends live forever” before giving her one last smile and following Dad out the door. Goodbyes are never easy and final goodbyes are impossible but at least I got this moment with her to hopefully see her off in style. I remember about fifteen years ago feeling terrible about the fact that Jenny might never get to achieve her dream of going to Graceland but luckily twelve years ago I decided to step up and took her myself and I know it meant the world to her. I think the fact that I helped Jenny fulfil this goal is why I’ve taken this news better than I did when I learned Grandad was going to die. I never would’ve forgiven myself if she passed away without going to Graceland when I’d had the opportunity to take her there. She made it to eighty three which is incredibly good innings (plus she survived a fucking pandemic) and she never lost any of her abrasiveness and I hope when my time is up I’ve similarly retained my ability to tell someone to fuck off if I don’t like them. I hope that her final few days are as pain free as possible and to quote Forrest Gump: that’s all I have to say about that. 

[taeyamayang]

Hey hey hey! Sorry for the late reply but I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING!! literally when you @‘d me the Ray Bradbury quote I was like “welp that’ll do it” and finished the kuroo Drabble. It’s def not my fav but it’s a start! After I wrote that I wrote a Yams story that was originally gonna be a part of a different series that I scrapped. But I really like the idea so I made it a one-shot. I really like it and am proud of it!! I just hope by the time you read this someone else besides me has read it 😅. I don’t Necessarily want it to blow up or anything but starting out as a fanfic writer is hard. How did you do it?

About the books thing growing up I lived with my grandparents and wasn’t really connected to the internet like kids my age were until like 8 (which is still v young but I grew up kinda fast so 8 was like 13 to me I guess) so I just read a lot cause we didn’t have much to do (and talking to people was hard- so books it was) besides watch the same old movies on VHS and play with Polly pockets. A lot of my toys were my aunts who was like a decade older than me as well. All of that was some of the reasons I identified a lot with the gen before me and I remember talking with my (other) aunt whose like nine years older and her friend reminiscing about when they were kids and I was like “ahh I remember those” and she’s like gIRL HOW U WERE LIKE TWO😭 fanfic has ruined actual books for me. Not saying fanfic is way better, and I still like to read actual books, but why get invested in all these new characters when you can read about the ones you already know and love? And plus it’s more convenient then actually carrying a book around.

OOH REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU HOW I ALWAYS GET HIT WITH BALLS AND YOU WERE LIKE HEY THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD FANFIC IDEA? well that’s not exactly how it happened but guess what! I’m writting it! I have 630 words down so far so I know it’s at least gonna hit the 1000 mark at the rate I’m going. I’m so excited for you to read it!! Also I may take you up on the editing or what’s it called Beta reading? Where people read it over and give the ok to post? I was gonna do that with the Yams one shot but I was too excited! I will absolutely keep u in mind tho, thank you!!!

And for the thing about the schools and the pillows…I CANT BELIEVE I WAS RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK??? that is so wild to me omg. Also American tv is fucking weird when it comes to sex. Like when I was in high school only a few people had sex and it wasn’t a big deal? I mean I was very introverted and wasn’t popular so I might not be the best resource but still. Maybe it’s a newer thing not to care as much about sex with a more body positive gen or wherever but I don’t really think peer pressure or anything was a big deal. Honestly? Peer pressure in general barely exists anymore. Adults were always like “say no to peer pressure” when it was just one guy offering weed or whatever and a person saying nah and that was IT. I think there was more pressure in feeling left out if anything. The media is so weird portraying teens but we gotta remember- these are old people writting and producing these shows. They also get paid to make it dramatic and not realistic.

I hope everything worked out with your ex boyfriend/boyfriend! And I totally don’t think you are ranting and if you are, shot just call me a therapist LMAO. dating is so fucking messy. Everyone expects it to be certain kind of way and they get anxious when it’s not. People gotta learn that relationship differ for everyone and it’s ok to break up and move on when you feel like things aren’t working out! There doesn’t have to be hard feelings or anything either idk why society has to make breaking up so messy- I know it can be and things don’t always end well but they can end normally and you don’t need to feel bad about doing what’s best for both of y’all. Staying in a relationship that doesn’t feel right Is just bad for both parties. Then again, I’ve never really been in a relationship and I’m still a virgin because I’m demisexual and that strong connection is vital and I’m too fucking busy with my own shit to get that. But I think what I said still stands. Bruh I’ve been reading so much fanfic and while reading I’m like “wow this shit would never happen to me and my shy ass” bUT I STILL WANT A MEET CUTE!!! but I have to remember that I’m reading about anime men who are too good to be real LMAO. I have high standards ig. Finding a partner is gonna be fun. Also I know what you mean when you said being Intimate is hard because girls are taught to always say no to sex for multiple reasons. A. Religion and purity for being a female and slut shaming and B. R*pe and sexual assault. Like I listen to too many true crime stories! I know the statistics! And people just hook up with others??? Wtf??? Idk this might just be my demisexual ass but no thank youuuu

BRO I WISH I HAD SMALL FEET! THEY DONT MAKE CUTE SHOES FOR BIG ASS FEET LIKE MINEEEE. When I was a freshman I learned about how having small feet was attractive in china and how they would bind the feet of women to have small cute feet but I never heard of small feet being lucky. I did hear about big feet meaning big- uh I assume you know where I’m going with that.

I don’t read my journal that much cuz ig makes me wanna cry but I do read it when I feel particularly down. I still have contact with Kylie (I think I called her that- since i used fake names for them both) but we don’t talk much. Sadly I don’t have Daias number which makes me so sad cuz I miss her dearly.

Ok so the murder in my town was kinda on brand for it??? OK LEMME EXPLAIN. I live in an upper middle class town with good schools and such so a lot of wealthy families move here. Some areas of this town are more fancy than others (the farther away from downtown you are- i happen to live pretty close to downtown but ANYWAYS) even some big celebrities mentioned wanting to move here. my town has a pretty uppity spoiled reputation because of that. Like most of the crimes around here are from spoiled brats that get bored and do drugs or rob people. The culprit of this case was spoiled by his mother in every degree as a child and refused to be independent and when his mom cut him off he killed both of his parents and his one sister and her husband (bc the sister kept telling him and Their mom that he needs to get a life.) the sister and her husband live in the town over so technically it didn’t just happen in the town i live in (but!!! My old residental school was IN THAT TOWN! not the same area since they lived in the nice mansion part but still.) I also got lunch with my old teacher (the one with the books) and told her about the case and she original thought I was talking aBOUT A DIFFERENT MURDER! THAT HAPPENED EVEN CLOSER TO ME IN MY TOWN. she’s like “oh is it the case where the lady drowned her kids in the bathtub?” LIKE IM SORRY- WHAT??? she like “oh yeah it happened a lil while ago tho. The college bought the house and now they use it for administration or something since no one wanted to move there.” THIS IS THE SAME COLLEGE RIGHT DOWNTOWN!!! I PROBABLY WALKED PAST IT BEFORE WHEN I GOT LOST GETTING CUPCAKES. ok quick side note- my high school was downtown and we had free lunch where we can go off campus for food and I decided I wanted a cupcake from this cupcake place not that far from the school. Since I didn’t wanna be late I pulled up my old friend google maps to take me back the quickest way- THAT WAS A BAD IDEA!!!!! I ended up wayyyyy out of downtown and into this weird residental housing street soooo far away. I ended up calling my mom like “moooommmm…. I think I’m lost.” And she was like ???? “Aren’t u at school???” THEN I HAD TO SEND MY ADRESS AND SHE PICKED ME UP. I WAS SITTING ON THE SIDEWALK ALL ALONE AND SAD. I WAS LIKE 16!!! my mom wasn’t even mad LMAO. She just sighed and told me to get in. It was a good cupcake tho. ANYWAY BACK TO MURDER- apparently one of her students parents got murdered too or something like a decade ago… LET ME JUST RESTATE THAT I LIVE IN THE MOST PICKET FENCE UPPITY TOWN EVER. I know what I’m saying makes it look all shady but the town i live in is one of the safest towns in the country- let alone my state. It just goes to show a lot of shady things happen when you aren’t looking for them. A quick google search goes a looooong way if you know what I mean- hopefully that doesn’t scare you if it did I’m so sorryyyy lol.

I’ve heard a lot about some famous cases from Japan, like the one about the little girl that killed her classmate (THAT SOUNDS SO BAD OUT OF CONTEXT WTF) or the Kyoto Anime massacre and the Junko Furuta case. The last two are very interesting to me in different ways. The first because I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before and the outcome is very unique? If that is the right word and just different from other arson cases when it comes to the motive and even the aftermath is different, like the perpetrator being the first person to receive a full body artificial skin graft. And because Kyoto Animations is a very big anime company which produced movies and shows that I- a person so far away- has watched before. And the Junko Furuta case was one of the few cases that ever made me cry and stuck with me for a while (that makes me seem so cold blooded I just don’t cry often because when I do EVERYTHING comes out) - but it was some of the most gruesome shit I have ever heard. I feel like the way I’m mentioning them is kinda disrespectful but I don’t want to go into detail about them because A. It’s really depressing for a tumblr ask and B. I wouldn’t do the stories justice. You also probably know about them anyway since you also like true crime and live closer geographically but if not I heard both of these cases from the YouTuber I mentioned a few times before Elenor Neale. Junkos case is kind of similar to one that happened here about a girl named Sylvia Likens, just in terms of sheer brutality.

OK THATS ENOUGH MURDER! but I wish I lived closer to Japan, since my mom told me she’d take me there after I graduated at some point- but she needs to get on a smaller plane first since she’s never been on one and the first one she’s going on will not be the 14 hour flight to Japan. So now I’m kinda just waiting and saving up lol.

I believe you did tell me about hearing voices in your house! Very spooky indeed. One time in a different house, a doll appeared on my bed out of nowhere (apparently it was my aunts who gave me to Polly pockets so that part wasn’t that weird) but the doll had a gold necklace with a smiley face pendant with a big round nose. Everyone says they never seen it before and honestly? I believe them. I have no idea where it came from and I held it close to me (bc spooky things are cool) until my little sister got jealous and broke it smh.

OOOH IM SO EXCITED ABOUT YOUR STICKER BUSINESS!!! IT SOUNDS SO COOL! I don’t play Genshin myself but my best friend does so I know some things about it. Her fav character is childe so I know zhongli and how he’s a god of some sort that childe buys everything for. I know there is a best friend duo and one of them hunts ghosts (bc my bestie said they remind her of us) and i know that childe calls everyone comrade and he’s a fatui harbringer with a little brother who thinks he is a toy maker. Oh and pimon (I think is her name) is annoying and Klee is cute and makes bombs. Oh there’s also Ito who’s like an Oni that’s a himbo and Thoma (I like him a lot. He’s cute) with the lil doggo! Your Zhongli sticker is so cute!!!

I’m also glad you take time to chat with me!! It makes me so happy whenever I get these messages. I hope you like my writting! By the time you get this my bokuto fic should be out!!!

And here! Take some cat pics as a treat!

i'm back with a communicable brain. dude, would you believe that i am building a sleigh.. a freaking life sized santa sleigh for christmas?? it's for community competition and i was tasked to build a sleigh and 9 reindeers. ugh, it's fun but very tiring i might be able to show you the sleigh the next time i write to you.

i read feline antics and kuroo in your fic is canon!! omg lol and when you mentioned about yams fic i was like "wait...why is the fic not on my dash (considering that i have few mutuals/following)." then it turns out I DIDN'T FOLLOW YOU?? WHAT THE HECK i swear i thought i did last time i read feline antics but my pea brain forgot or thought i did (i'm very forgetful if you hadn't catch on yet. might as well name myself dori ffs) anyway, so i followed you and saw your yams fic and holy shit??? 6k?? DUDE 6K?? woah, i am so so proud of you because i remember you mentioned to me before that you couldn't write anything/one shots because you always tend to drop them off or left them unfinishes bUT 6K?? DAAAMN. i really like the way you portrayed yamaguchi's anxiety because it's raw, heartfelt in a way that i could feel his worries through your writing. i'm sorry if this entire paragraph is a commentary about your recent works gsmsbsns lol and about beta reading... ARE YOU SURE?? ME?? WHAT AM I?? kidding but i'm always down maybe we can talk over it on discord if you have one (i rarely open my dms here bc opening dms means opening notifications and if im not in the right mood to check notifs i tend to forget to reply to comments, ask games, etc. aghh you know that gsnsbs)

how i started out as a fic writer is not actually a plan lmao after watching haikyuu i reopened my dying tumblr blog bc i know that great artists thrive here so i wanted to check out artworks of haikyuu. then, i saw that a number of blogs writes for haikyuu and i was like "wow fics are still a thing here on tumblr, huh." then i tried writing my own and took my tendency to daydream about my fixations to my advantage. i love thinking about how these set of characters react to a situation (this prolly the reason why i took up psychology as a major lol i love observing people and their personality and behavior) then out of whim i posted. not really thinking of numbers or feedbacks, i posted bc i know that only a few people will get to see it so there are less judgments on me since i'm a beginner writer on this platform. then, as i kept posting more and more people came to my blog. and although now, i still am not a huge blog, it's always good to keep a mindset that you're writing for yourself (tho numbers are rewarding, we get that) and that the people who read your works doesn't know you. you can't be judged based on your writing bc that's just one side of who you are and it also comforts me to think that there people who genuinely enjoy my work. i'll be lying if i say that there are no times where my priorities lean towards writing for my audience. i did at one point but ended on a writer's block lol. if you keep it that way you'll end up burntout (this happened to me too before heh). so, in short, i started writing just because i can and i didn't really thought about the negative things people will think of me, i just did bc i enjoyed it. also, i think consistency plays a huge role in thisㅡnot only to keep people engaged but also to keep writing as a habit. if you make it a habit, your writing gets better and better. that's just based on my experience lol. alsooo tho one year of writing here is still a short-time, i have never encountered anyone calling me a shitty writer and to stop writing because my words are useless and childish LOL what i'm trying to say is worries about people judging you and your work doesn't happen often and if that ever happens, they're the problem, never yours. so yeah i keep that in mind too. AND if that ever happens to you, i'll be on the frontline defending you. leave the roasting to me lol.

about the tv shows and sex (i feel like i have to at least give a topic beforeni start a paragraph bc i reply SO LATE that i feel like you might have forgotten what we were talking about) i agree! it's more of the pressure of being left out. one is pressured to hangout after school because of the fear of not being included in a group. tho i was peer pressure to kiss someone in class for fun but i was like "uhm, nope!" so i made a petty (i think wise *wink*) excuse of going to the comfort room first before doing it but what i did was i went straight home without telling anyone. i am not doing that for their entertainment lol 💀and that's cool kids for you 💀

OH! ex boyfriend... uh.. it's a girlfriend 🤣 everything worked well so thanks! we broke up lmaooooo welp it's for the best. im onto finding a better match i guess lol bruuhh i get the strong connection but besides that i also want someone to balance me out. i'm literally just a speck of dust sometimes, you know floating and minding my own business aka my fixations and hobbies in life. kudos to you tho! you give spot on advice. i mean having zero experience is okay when you give out relationship advices bc to me i think that's a fresh perspective.

yeah, small feet are lucky. small faces are pretty. button noses are pretty. small curvy lips are pretty. everything has to be small to be lucky or pretty but eyes... IT HAS TO HUGE AND DOE-LIKE i swear to fucking god the beauty standard here is ridiculous tho people my age dont usuallu give a fuck about it lol but the older generations OH THEY DO but that doesnt matter we were taught to respect elders and their opinions (as part of our culture) but that doesn't mean we will up to their unrealistic expectations. oh just to mention to you! when i was a kid i was pretty active. i play outside a lot and i love ride my bicycle and do races with my friends. one time my aunt (my father's sister) warned me of not "playing too much" bc my calves will develop man like muscles and it's not a good for a girl to have calf muscles because if i wear a dress and heeled shoes it will show. i was i think 8 or 9 and i was like... sOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT so i went to my mom and told her about it and she was like "what?! she told you that?! that's an exaggeration! just keep cycling or running, don't mind her." (my mom doesnt really care about physical looks whereas my aunts-dad side CARE A LOT) they don't even like women wearing clothes that are too revealing so what i did was i wore a tube on a relative's birthday party. they cant call me out bc they know my dad doesnt care (he even buys me cropped tops) and my mom too. anyway, so yes small ankles and calves are a thing too. IT'S RIDICULOUS I SWEAR.

oh god the murders in your town?? THAT SOUNDS LIKE FROM AMERICAN HORROR STORY OR SMTH. is it not weird that the college bought where the murder took place? like if i were to study there i'll be thinking about it a lot... actually... that sounds a bit like my uni... not exactly my uni but the place where my uni sits. so my country was under a colony before (war times and all that) and the city where my uni is the main city where the locals and foreigners interacted during 1800s and since the woke locals are against the colonization, a lot of them were shot, killed, and thrown to the nearby river. and if you take a few strides from my uni there's like an underground tunnel recently discovered that turned into a tourist spot. it's downright creepy because the way down to the tunnel and the tunnel itself is sketchy tight, the way/tunnel leads to a huge boxed underground like a deadend. my friends and i went afterclass and when we reached the dead end we looked up and see like a railing(?) idk how to describe it but other tourists were shock that people are piling underground and they can see us. apparently, that hole used to be a prison for locals who fought for our freedom (and other criminals too) they were kept and stuck undergound, left them there to die (die of starvation and stuff). it was creepy bc i was literally standing where almost hundreds of people died and i didn't know. we only knew of it when we reached the dead end. as it turns out, there are many other tunnels with the same structure near the place. sooo yeah.

omg speaking of the two japanese murders you mentioned i dont know about them so ill check it out!! and about your cupcake incident OMG THATS SO CUTE WTH IM SORRY FOR LAUGHIN but i just think its adorable that you ended up lost for a good cupcake. cant blame you tho i loveee a good cupcake. where you able to get back in class without an earful?

ahhhh i live near japan but i can't fly there yet bc of school (but since i graduated who knows heh). you know how crazy asian schools are? yes, they're crazy. so my family and i barely have time to travel outside of the country without taking a week off from school. we traveled once before to two countries it was hongkong and vietnam but i had to file a one week leave (it was tedious with all the papers i have to submit and all that ugh) and thank god that one week is just school festival week so i didnt miss anything besides the fun. that was in elementary but came middle school and high school.. heckkk after class study sessions is real like the one in anime especially if you're a senior. i remember my mom's friend being a math teacher so every summer i go to their place to train my skills in math and i'm begging my mom not to drop me off to their place 💀 imagine spending summer solving math problems HA! still, i'm never the best in math lol

thanks for the wishes i hope to launch my sticker shop soon apparently i hae forgotten my skills on photoshop HA HA HA and i'm trying to recall my lessons on it BUT FUCKKK anyway you a lot for someone who doesnt play genshin if you ever plan on playing it soon let me know!! i would love to know (its funny how you mentioned almost all daddies of genshin bc saaaame ughh childe supreme sugardaddy and a meme)

here are some haikyuu stickers i made recently it isnt final yet butttt here have a look!

WHY ARE YOUR CATS SO PHOTOGENIC?? THEYRE ALL SO BEAUTIFUL AND SOOO CALMING TO LOOK AT!! THATS UNFAIR bc momo knows when a cam is pointed at her and she just runs away. and the huge pikachu too!! I WANT THAT AAAHHH

here have momo sitting on the sleigh im working on hehe

sorry for the long wait but i lovee writing to you whenever i receive a message from you i get all excited! you're a good communicator and thanks for waiting for my replies since i take eons to do so. i hope you keep writing!! i'll always be here to support a friend and a fellow writer. cheers!

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Spider Studded Reunion ♥️ | T.M No Way Home miniseries P.4 (Finale)

Contains major spoilers for Spider-Man NWH

Read part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Marvel Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Tobey!Peter Parker x Black Cat!reader (past romance), Andrew!Peter Parker (platonic/flirtatious), Tom!Peter Parker (platonic), Otto Octavius, Norman Osborn, Max Dillion, Curt Connors, Flint Marko, May Parker MJ Watson, Ned Leeds, Doctor Strange.

Content warnings: major angst, slight fluff. Sadness (sorry if I made you cry), mentions of death & graphic depictions of major character death. violence, blood & profanity. Spoilers for SMNWH | female reader (she/her) | this is very long (5k-7k words I’m talking)

Black Cat PS4 theme | Tobey!Spider-Man theme | Black Cat PS4 suit

Premise: ‘He was a glimpse from her stolen future, and she was a memory of his past.’ In a bittersweet conclusion to a day full of destruction and tragedy, the three Peters are reunited with old friends turned foes in a climatic battle to end chaos to the multiverse. For one reunion, the moment itself is just as emotional as when he first discovered she was one of the many lost souls to reappear. The question remained, will her fate be set in stone? Or did the course of the future change with the birth of a new reality?

Note: This is NOT in association w/ my Tobey!Spider-Man x Black Cat!reader saga. This is an alternate work where instead of the path they had in those series, Y/n ended up becoming a villain & the final member of the NWH Sinister Six. This was so fun to write and I’m actually crying a bit at the fact I finished another Tobey!Spider-Man work. Plus this fucking part just pulled at my heart stings I was a mess while finishing it. I have a soft spot for Black Cat/Felicia Hardy so all of these stories have been fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy this final installment! (Also, I didn’t know the exact date of the events of Spider-Man 3, so I just winged the date.)

My favorite quotes I wrote in this chapter: “Your eyes always spoke a thousand words when you were unable to find your voice”

——————————

“Eddie, stop. This needs to end now.”

“Well now look who has a sudden change of heart,” the deranged man spat, eyes full of rage when he saw the black suited woman standing several feet away. “I shouldn’t be surprised—your little soft spot for Parker would eventually blind you. Just wish your timing could’ve been better.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, aware of Peters attention on her. She didn’t know how he was looking at her, deciding to ignore him and focus her attention on Eddie holding a very sharp piece of metal. “I made a mistake—and you will too. This needs to end—now, Eddie! Let him go!” The plead in her voice made his heart skip a little, nerves starting to tingle.

Eddie scoffed, letting his head tilt. “After the hurt he caused you, you really want me to let him go? I thought you wanted this, L/n?”

“I did—I did,” her eyes were apologetic when she glanced at her former lover. “But I was wrong—a-and I can’t let you do this. I still love him, Eddie—.”

“Love!?” He shouted in fury, “Love is the reason?! He took Gwen from me—and he threw you to the trash for MJ.” Eddie knew he was getting under her, the tense look in her face told him so. The laugh he let out made her more angry, “This won’t change how he feels for you. If anything I’m doing you a favor.” Y/n just shook her head in denial.

“That thing is controlling you and we’re better—you’re better than this. You’ll regret it once it’s over. Please don’t do this.”

“No can do, kitty-cat,” Eddie tsked, tone full of mock, “Unlike you, I’m sticking to the plan.”

Y/n let her claws extract from her gloves, eyes narrowed in determination at the challenging glint from Eddie Brock, “Then I guess I’ll have to show what happens when you mess with the Cat.”

Webbed up and unable to assist Y/n, Peter watched helplessly as the woman he loved and cared for—despite the pain they had caused each other, fight Eddie in the form of the symbiote. He was aware of the strength Eddie would have and it scared him seeing how Y/n was barely able to keep up.

Cuts covered her face, bruises from each blow. Y/n was using her claws to scratch at his flesh, but the symbiote formed back with ease with each tear. She used a pole to smack Eddie away, giving enough time to jump on his shoulders like a cat and flip them to the ground.

“Y/n!!” Peter screamed when she was thrown into the drywall. Struggling against the restraints, Peter wanted nothing more to help her. His fear grew by the seconds watching Eddie overpower her. Blood painted her face, staining her stark white hair and although she was able to dodge several of his attacks, anytime she landed a blow to the creature it didn’t seem to faze it.

At one point Peter could tell she was using her ability to alter the probability field—because Eddie/the symbiote had rubble from the level above fall on him. Y/n took the chance to run at Peter, out of breath and holding her side from the broken ribs she was sure she had.

“Y-ou need—you need to get out of here, spider,” she started to pull at one of the webs, trying to break it free despite the weakness she was feeling. “I-I’m sorry—I really am, but you need to go. Take MJ and get far away from this place.”

Peter pulled to help her free him, shaking his head at her words with pain lacing his tone, “No! No, Y/n, I’m not leaving you!” He couldn’t believe she was telling him to leave her there with that thing.

“There’s no time!” She shouted in distress, “He won’t stop a-and you need to get you both out of here—AHH!!” Neither had noticed Eddie escape the rubble and approach from behind. His hand wrapped around Y/ns hair, pulling her away from Peter who shouted for him to let her go.

“Y/N!” He screamed with wide eyes when Eddie dragged her to the edge of the construction site. “Eddie stop!! Let her go—t-this is between me and you!! Okay? Just let her go and kill me like you want!!” Y/n was fighting against the hash grip, but Peter could tell she was growing weak from the blood loss and broken bones after pushing all her strength earlier.

“Argh—Eddie, please!!” She pleaded, feeling his hand move from her hair to her neck—her feet trying to keep up with his fast pace. “L-let me go!” She tried bitting his wrist, but it didn’t work—he only cursed and tightened his grip on her. Panic filled her when they reached the edge, Eddie switching the position so his arm was holding her against him and one hand was gripping her head roughly.

Peters tingling was so overwhelming it was causing him to struggle against the restraints with all his might. He could see Y/n had a grappling hook so if she was thrown over then she’d be able to catch herself. But something in his gut scared him she wouldn’t get the chance to.

Not with the way Eddie was holding her.

Y/ns eyes met his and the entire world seemed to stop around them. It was like they were the only two to exist. A feeling they had countless times in the past couple years. “Y/n,” he weakly said, “It’s going to be okay.”

They both tried to deny what was about to happen, praying it would all be a dream and when they woke the next morning they’d both be safe and sound.

But fate had other plans.

“You see, Parker,” The mask peeled away to reveal Eddies smug face. “We make decisions—unaware of what the consequences are. Y/n here knows that now,” he felt her struggle, but it was to no avail. He brought his hand up to her grip her neck, the other holding her head.

Peter felt his eye water, feeling helpless. The grip of the restraints was too strong, “D-don’t” his voice cracked, “don’t hurt her, Eddie. I beg you.” Y/ns own eyes had brimmed of tears, and she wanted her last image to be of the man she loved with all her heart and soul. She could see how devastated he was becoming, wishing with everything in him he was saving her.

All he wanted to tell her was in his face—no time for Peter to say the words. Everything he wanted to tell her he tried to convey in that one look. The regret, the sorrow, the love he felt for her. Y/n knew—she knew what he wanted to say. And she portrayed the same emotion for him.

Funny how their story would come to a tragic end.

“You’ll thank me one day, Parker.”

“DON’T!”

Y/n gave one last smile, “Peter, I love you—.”

*Crack* The noise echoed through the air, Peter becoming frozen when Eddie let his hands do the work. Y/ns neck was turned in a awkward angle following a sickening *crack* and her movements seized in Eddies arms. With a lazy push—keeping his eyes on Peter, Eddie had her body fall behind him.

“NOOOO!!!!” Peters scream could be heard all around—even stories below. It was broken and pained, matching the feeling of his heart break in two when Y/n fell through the air and out from his sight. The tears flowed from him like a waterfall—his shoulders moving from the countless sobs filling him.

He knew she was gone. There was no way she’s survive a fall that high with her state. Y/n was gone the minute Eddie moved his hands.

And this all became his sad reality when the chaos was over and Peter was holding her broken body in his arms. “I-I’m sorry, Y-y/n. I’m so so s-sorry,” he cried, kissing her forehead repeatedly through the torn portion of his mask around his lips. His fingers caressed her cheek, brushing away her stained hair. “C’mon, Cat. W-wake up,” he knew it was no use to plead to her, but his heart was begging him to.

He didn’t care about the crowds of people around the barrier—staring at him with solemn expressions. Nor did he care about the flashes from cameras. All he cared about was the woman he was holding. Wishing nothing more than for her to open her beautiful eyes and prove it was all a nightmare.

“I love you, Y/n,” he sobbed into her ear. “I-I love you, please wake up. Please come back to me, baby.” There was no movement, no sound. Nothing. Y/ns skin had paled, the blood drying around her head and the bruising on her neck becoming dark.

New York’s Black Cat didn’t have nine lives as many thought. Only one, which she gave up for her love of it’s friendly neighborhood vigilante.

Peter placed one last kiss to her forehead, his tears coating her skin. “I’m so sorry, Yn.”

Spider-Man had failed. For the first time in a long time, Peter Parker had failed someone he loved. The Black Cat was dead—his Y/n was dead. And it was all his fault.

“Hey man, you okay?” The memory disappeared from Peter when he felt a gentle shake of his shoulder. The tall version of him was looking at him with concern. “You’ve been dazed for awhile. Everything good?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he shrugged, fiddling with his mask in his hand. “—I-I’m fine, just thinking you know.” The tall Peter gave an expression like he understood.

“Yeah-yeah I get it,” he nodded with a tight mouth, “You’re thinking about her, huh?” The older man didn’t have to answer him, knowing all too well the feeling.

Ever since the younger version of himself had revealed Peter (2)s former lover was in his universe, the older Peter had been feeling all types of emotions. Pain, sadness, regret. There was also anxiety at how he will react if he sees her.

When they first met the young Spider-Man on top of the school roof, they spoke of losing loved ones. Something they all had in common. “My uncle Ben was killed. It was my fault,” he spoke with tears eyes. “A-and it was also my fault, w-when someone I really loved died.” There was a change in the younger Peters face, but unbeknownst to the older man, it was because of a certain someone he’s become aquatinted with.

Could it be?

“I lost—I lost Gwen,” The taller Peter went on to say, “my um—she was my MJ. I couldn’t save her.” The younger Peter saw how the older one flinched at the tall ones words. His suspicions were slowly coming true. “I’m never gonna be able to forgive myself for that. But I carried on—tried to um—tried to keep going. Tried to keep being the—t-that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that’s what she would’ve wanted. At some point I just,” he paused to sniff, “I stopped pulling my punches. I got rage full. I got bitter.” The man was trying to keep himself together, but the emotion was becoming overwhelming as he finally said, “I-I just don’t want you to end up like me.”

“The night Ben died,” the attention was now on the older version of Peter. “—I hunted down the man who I thought did it. I wanted him dead. I got what I wanted, it didn’t make it better.” His eyes fell as the next memory played in his head, “It took me a long time to get though that darkness. And when years passed a-and then she—.” He stopped himself, bringing a shaky hand up to catch a fallen tear. “When I lost Y/n, that darkness came back—more so than ever. Even after I killed the man responsible, it didn’t change the fact she was gone.”

“Y/n…” the younger Peter whispered making the older man freeze, especially when he added, “The Black Cat.” The teens behind him were also in shock, all three realizing this was in fact the Peter who lost Y/n. The one she protected.

“W-what,” his voice shook, “How—how do you know that?” The taller Peter was confused at first by the older mans tone, but when he saw the look on the younger Peters face it all made sense.

The trio all appeared sympathetic, the young Peter being the most, “She’s here—in this world. She—she got pulled the day she was supposed to die.” His eyes fell to the ground when he thought back to the nights events, “I don’t know what happened to her, I-I’m sorry.” There was sadness in him seeing the look he was receiving from the older Peter.

“What do you mean?” He asked in fear, his heart racing as he stared at the boy for answers. The younger Peter had looked like he wanted to cry—which only sparked more dread.

“Norman.” The name had made all the air leave Peter (2). He as sure the others could hear how fast his heart was pounding, the tears soaking his eyes. Peter (1) went on to explain, “She fought like hell against him—nearly overpowered him trying to save me.” This is what the teen didn’t want. That feeling of guilt if he ended up facing her Peter if she hadn’t made it out. He still didn’t know though what happened to her. “Y/n almost had him, but he threw her out the window—,” he stopped when he saw the man flinched, turning his head away like he didn’t want to hear anymore.

Peter (1) then remembered what he was saying was exactly to how Y/n had died in his timeline. The exact same way. She fought someone stronger than her to save him. Then she was overpowered, killed and thrown out the building right in front of him. The teen couldn’t even imagine what the older man must’ve been feeling.

“Please, don’t tell me if she—.”

“I don’t think she did!” The teen shouted with a hand raised, “She wasn’t on the ground, Peter.” The man returned his gaze to him, confused yet full of hope. “I think she’s okay—pretty banged up because Norman did a number on her—.”

“But she’s alive?” His tone was full of plead. A breath of relief left him when the teen nodded.

“I think so. I didn’t see her body at the bottom—I’m sorry,” he apologized when both the Peters reacted to the words. It was then he realized the taller Peter most likely had a similar experience with Gwen. “I-I’m sorry. But if she was gone then she would’ve been laying there—a-and I didn’t see her, Peter.”

The older man wiped at his face, his shoulders falling from how tense they were as his body swarmed with all types of emotions. There was relief and hope Y/n was alive, but in her condition Peter was scared. Especially with what the younger version of himself was telling him.

After everything was settled on the rooftop and they got to work on the cures in the lab, Peter (2) couldn’t help but let his mind wonder. The memories he had pushed back all those years ago started to reply like a movie. It had been hard in the months following Y/ns death, even in the years after. He had pushed Mj away despite her advances because not only was he dealing with the loss of his former love, but also his best friend Harry.

Like the taller Peter had said earlier, he also felt rage full and bitter. Being New Yorks Spider-Man took a toll on him because he was no longer had his most trusted ally and partner. Of course he knew Y/n would want him to continue, but he couldn’t for some time. No matter how much time had passed—or that he managed to make things work with MJ, he would never forgive himself for Y/ns death.

He would always have a piece of his heart dedicated to her.

In the lab, he helped the younger Peter finish the probability necklace for the version of Y/n, the two high-fiving when they successfully complete the cure. Peter (2) had to remind himself throughout that this was not his Y/n anymore. Of course she was from his world, but in the past.

Aware of the concept of time and reality, Peter was for sure a new reality would form where this version of Y/n would get to live the life she deserved. The new reality would make a past version of him get to have her. All she had to do was not intervene against Eddie when she got back. Better yet, if Y/n was returning days after then it would be as if she were never there. Peter hoped for the second option more. It was a better chance for her to have her second chance.

They may not have happily ever after in this reality, but at least the Spider would have his Cat.

Now he was standing on Liberty Island fully suited in the late hours of the night with the two Peters. The taller of the two knew more than anything what he was feeling. Yes, all three had lost loved ones—family members, but the two oldest unfortunately shared the same loss of a lover.

“You can talk about it you know,” Peter (3) said aloud, catching the older mans attention once more. “You’re not going to upset me by doing so.”

Despite the reassurance, Peter (2) still felt it wasn’t his place too. He wasn’t as lucky as him—getting to see the woman he once loved again. “I-I don’t—I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Might as well get it off your chest man. We don’t know if she’ll even show up so why not?”

“It’s just—,” Peter (2) sighs, glancing at the probability necklace he webbed up just moments prior, “—I-I don’t know what I’m going to say. There’s so much I want too—that I didn’t get to the day she—,” he stopped, not wanting to say the word which the man understood. “It’s hard to know she’s here in the world—that I-I might possibly get the chance to see her, but then that will be it. We’ll be sent home to the times we were pulled, and I lose her all over again. It’s almost like I don’t want to see her,” Peter frowns, turning to look at his alternate self. “I know that sounds horrible to say.”

“No-no, I get what you’re saying,” a hand comes in a slow wave. “You don’t want to subject yourself to seeing her when you know it will be the last time you do. Especially with how things ended between you two—and with what happened to her.”

“Exactly,” There was a sigh of relief from Peter (2). Peter (3) just pats him on the shoulder, tilting his head in thought.

“But-but don’t you think it’s a second chance for you?” At the confused expression from his counterpart, he continues, “Think of it this way, you never got closure with Y/n. She was taken from you before you two could—even though you were at odds and things were hostile up until that last moment, you two still cared for each other. A-and you’ve spent the past decade wondering what you would’ve told her if you got the chance.

“Now you get that, Peter. You get to see her—alive and in the flesh, so why let that opportunity slide. To spare you the pain?” Peter (3) gives him a sympathetic smile, “Unfortunately we don’t get that in our life. We have to live with it.”

The words lingered in the air, settling into Peter (2) as he let his mind drift at the thought. The man was right, so right in fact he’d be a fool to not want to see her one last time. Get the closure he was deprived of. And let her have it as well.

“I’d give anything to see Gwen again,” there was a slight crack to the vigilantes voice, “You’re lucky— you get to see Y/n, even if it’s a past version of her and it will only be for a small moment. Maybe this will finally bring you both peace.”

There was a comforting pat to the older mans shoulder, the two Peters sharing a knowing look. “Thank you, Peter.”

“Anytime man,” There was a small sniff from Peter (3). “Plus, don’t you want to give her whatever it was you were writing? I-I didn’t mean to pry—b-but I saw you writing in the lab for a long time and assumed it was a letter to her. Sorry if I was wrong.”

A slight blush came to Peter (2)s cheeks, shaking is head, “No-no. You’re fine—I wasn’t writing to her—well I am going to give it to Y/n, but it’s for her to pass on.” That only made his counterpart confused.

“Wh-whhaatt—?”

“Alright guys focus up,” he was interrupted by the younger Peter, but all three felt a sudden tingling sensation. “You feel that?”

Peter (2) was the first to respond, “Yeah.” The taller Peter took a defensive stand, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Yellow lightening then filled the sky—thunder rumbling in its shadow.

“Sup, kid,” Max’s voice echoed from the pulsing energy radiating off him. He phased so he appeared out of thin air, arc reactor glowing bright on his chest. “How you like the new-new? Look, you give it to me—I’m gonna destroy it, and I’ll let you live.” Max stared down at him, menace in his gaze despite his ‘promise’ “Don’t make me a murderer, Peter.”

It was game time.

A long, tiring battle between the three Spider-Mans and three villains ensued with chaos erupting on Liberty Island. Max was at his prime power with the arc reactor, Flint had arrived manipulating a large swarm of sand, and Connors was as barbaric as usual in his lizard form.

The reunion between Max and Peter (2) was anything but heartfelt, with the electric man saying “you ain’t even the shit no more!” Yeah, Peter had his heart break at that.

The three realized they were not doing good trying to go against the villains individually. Their best interest was to chose one target at a time and work to cure them together. Max would be a hard one to start with, so Flint was their best option. After all, the man just wanted to go home. Curing him of his power was something he didn’t care about at first, nor did he care about helping the other villains.

Still they had to deal with Connors and Max while trying to isolate Flint away. Peter (2) took on that job to lead him into the stature, hoping to talk some sense in the man he had made amends with all those years prior. His stomach dropped when he first saw the sandman—remembering the last time they saw each other was the day Y/n and Harry died.

Peter had to shake off the feeling quickly, focusing on the task at hand. “Flint! We’re trying to help you!” He shot a web up to the top, pulling himself to a bar just as the sand started to conceal his feet. “Guys I’m at the top,” he shouted into the coms. “I need the cure! Argh—ah!” A hand full of sand pulled him back until he was fully emerged.

“I’m coming—I’m coming!!” Peter (1) raced up the side of the scaffold. At the same moment, Peter (3) kicked Connors off him and webbed him up to keep him still. “Just wait your turn, doc! I’ll be right back.” Picking the cure up from the ground, he jumped off the side to shoot two webs and catapult him to the top of the stature.

Max was following him, yellow bolts bouncing around and the Spider-Man threw the cure in the direction of his counterpart. Peter (1) jumped forward, catching the device and arming it before sending it to Peter 2s awaiting hand. Golden light filled Lady Libertys crown, and the large wave of sand dispersed allowing Peter 2 to finally breath.

The mask was removed from his face, the man taking deep intakes of are. Seeing movement in the corner, his eyes land on a large pile of sand which cave way and the human form of Flint Marko is revealed to Peter. He could see the scared look in the mans eyes as the sand left his body, skin taking over and spoke calmly, “It’s okay, Flint. We’re gonna get you home.”

That made two down, four to go.

“Just stay right here,” Peter orders before putting his mask back on and meeting the other two at the front of the crown. Max was projecting an enormous wave of energy with his electricity. It would be hard for them to get close. “How do we stop him?”

“I’ve never seen him this powerful,” Peter 3 calls from the side.

“It’s the arc reactor,” the teen explains, pointing at the glowing orb in the center of Max’s suit. “We’ve gotta get it off of him.”

The words only made Max angrier. “You’re not gonna take this away from me.” Peter 1 tried shooting a web to remove it, but Max simply cut the string away with a scoff. “That’s not gonna work.” The three only had seconds to react when Max shot a large bolt in their direction—completely destroying the crown of the statue.

“Okay we gotta do this up close,” Peter 1 ordered when they each landed separately, “Peter two go right—Peter three go left. On me!” They each jumped with the two older Peters shooting webs at Maxs arms to hold them away so Peter 1 could attempt to hit him head on. What he didn’t anticipate was for Max to shoot at him hands free, the voltage erupting from his chest and sending the boy flying back.

Peter 2 tried next, but was also sent flying. And when Peter 3 took his chance, well Max decided to not be kind. Instead of sending him back into the stature, Max held onto him with electric bolts. Pain reputed the vigilante and he was screaming as the fire burned through his veins.

To help his counterpart, Peter 1 tries to attack Max from behind, but when the man phases the teen hurdles to the bottom of the scaffold. A groan leaves him, and he pushes himself up to get back to the others—but becomes alarmed seeing Connors broke free from his bings and was heading straight toward his friends.

“Oh no. No-no-no.”

The other Peters were left on their own while he dealt with the lizard problem. The cure dropped from Peter 3s hands, the pain becoming too overwhelming for him to hand onto. Using a web to fling it toward him, Peter 2 caught it in his hand. As he went to jump towards Max however, the cure falls once again to the scaffold when a mechanical arm is wrapping around his torso mid-air.

Another one has Peter 3 in its grasp—making Peter 2 feel a chill up his spine. There was only one person he knew with those arms. One he thought had already been cured.

Otto Octavius emerged from behind Max, his eyes glaring at the two Peters in his hold. “Leave them,” he announced, “They’re mine.” Max however was not willing to give them up.

“I don’t need your help. I got it just fine.”

“Doctor Octavius, no,” Peters 2 voice came out in a plead. It always pained him to see Otto not in control of the A.I system he built—and part of him was saddened if they managed to gain control after Peter 1 had worked so hard to cure him.

Suddenly, the two Spider-Mans were stunned when a mechanical arm wrapped around Maxs torso. “What are you doing? Get off of me!” Then his voltage started to spark out, causing his eyes to widen. The sparks were flickering, like he was losing power over the arc reactor. “W-what?! What’s happening—what the hell is this?!”

Otto let go of the Spider-Mans, the two landing safely to the ground, but before either could grab the cure there was a flash of white hair sliding against the ground followed by a feminine giggle.

Peter 2 felt all the air leave him for the millionth time that night. He knew that giggle—it had been so long since he heard it.

As the cure made it’s way into her hand, Y/n pulled the trigger of her grappling hook in the direction of Ottos mechanical arm hovering above the one holding Max. She lifted off the ground, flipping in the air while holding tightly to the rope until she landed on the arm. All eyes watched as she crawled toward Max—obviously using her ability to distort his voltage. It put a smile on Peters 2 face—though no one could see because of his mask.

With another giggle—shifting her legs so she was handing upside down from the arm next to Max, Y/n removed the arc reactor in a victorious, “Lights out, Sparky.” The cure was on his chest, immediately going full power indicated by all lights turning green. Another giggle left the Cat, tossing the arc reactor to Otto who caught with it ease.

“There you go,” the man smiled, seeing the electricity drain from Max. He and Y/n shared a knowing look, the woman maneuvering herself so she was perched like a cat on the arm.

“Nice work, Doc.”

“As to you, dear girl.”

Smirking, Y/n crawled back along the limb—lifting herself up before doing an ariel flip and landing in a cat-like stance on the scaffold. There was a cheeky glint in her eye as she looked up at the scientist. “We make a pretty good team, Doc. Shame how things have to be the way they are.”

Otto chuckled, bringing his glasses down a bit to wink at her, “Maybe in another life, Y/n.” The woman bit her lip, fighting the smile until both of them ended up breaking with a laugh.

Oh if only.

Y/n stood, brushing off the dust from her new suit—one she had stolen after breaking into a pharmacy to get first aid supplies. Feeling a pain in her side now that the adrenaline had wore off, Y/n moved away from Otto to lean against a railing. While she did have some extent of accelerated healing, it wasn’t much when half your body is bruised and beaten from a showdown with the Green Goblin.

Y/n had nasty abrasions to her neck from being choked by her own rope, her lip was busted and she had a bandaged to her temple. She didn’t even want to think about the broken ribs she had. Honestly doing what she did just now may have worsened it, but when she saw Max and the cure right there she didn’t stop to think—Y/n just let her instincts take over.

Hell she didn’t even know her Peter was right there watching her the entire time.

A few minutes had passed with Y/n catching her breath to the side when she heard Otto start to speak. “The power of a sun.” Then there was a sound like someone landing on metal. Moments later her heart raced at a familiar voice finishing Ottos words.

“In the palm of your hand.”

“Peter?” Y/n eyes watered hearing the scientist say his name. Turning around, away from his eye since she was to the side in the darkly lit edge of the scaffold, Y/n kept herself together watching him remove his mask.

Instead of the young, boyish face of Peter Parker she had come to love, here stood an older, mature looking man. There were wrinkles by his eyes, slight bags beneath his lids indicating the time that had passed for Peter. He appeared in his early forties compared to the twenty three year old she left behind. Even his voice sounded older. Y/n had to bring a hand to her mouth to stop the sob when he replied, “Otto.”

The scientist was in disbelief, much like she was. “Oh it’s good to see you, dear boy.”

“It’s good to see you.”

Nerves filled Y/n, knowing she was about to have her chance to come face to face with this Peter. The future version she never got to see. The one who lost her.

Y/n didn’t even know if he’d even be happy to see her. Flint never went into too much detail about what took place after Eddie killed her, but she hoped he’d be as joyful like he was looking at Otto.

“You’re all grown up,” Otto comments, noticing the aging of the boy he once knew. He couldn’t help the small smile he had, “How are you?”

Y/n could see the thought in Peters head, making her smile when he eventually replies, “Tying to do better.” The two share a smile, and Y/n takes a deep breath. It was now or never for her.

With a hand to her side—trying to ignore the slight pain from her broken ribs, Y/n starts to walk in their direction. Her boots echoed with each step, causing them to turn in her direction. It was when she finally broke through the shadow that Peter finally saw her, Y/n smirking at him, “I see even with age, you still look as handsome as ever, spider-stud.”

The man was speechless at the sight of her. There she was in all her flesh and glory. Typical smirk and mischievous eyes behind a tiny black mask. The suit was different, obviously because she hadn’t arrived in her original one from her world. But she still looked like his Y/n. His Cat.

It was as if she hadn’t even died.

“Cat got your tongue, spider,” she giggled when he didn’t say anything, though there was a nervous edge to her voice. “I know you’ve seen a lot of ghosts today, is one more too much for you?” Of course she’d tease him—it was in her blood. Y/n shifted on her feet when he didn’t answer and it was then Peter finally snapped out of his inner battle.

In three long strides his arms were around her, pulling Y/n into his chest. Y/n immediately wrapped her arms around him, not even caring for her injuries as she held onto Peter like her life depended on it. She heard him sob, which only caused her to lose control of her emotions.

This was seventeen years in the making for Peter, all while just days for Y/n. How could they keep their composure together knowing what fate had in store for them. Peter didn’t even try to keep the tears at bay, several had flowed as he nuzzled into her messy white hair.

In the distance, Otto and Peter 3 were beaming at the scene. Peter 3 even had tears in his eyes.

It was a bittersweet moment for the two. Peter (2) getting the chance to hold Y/n again, and for her she was able to feel some relief that Peter still cared for her. Despite her betrayal to him to Eddie and Flint.

They just stood there for several moments, hugging each other closely until at one point Y/n had groaned by the sharp feeling in her side. “Shit,” she hissed, feeling a little sad when Peter pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized with a sniff, expression becoming concerned, “Y-you’re hurt.” He frowned at all the bruises and cuts coating the skin he could see. Y/n saw him flinch when his eyes landed on her exposed neck—the dark bruises trailing along the sides and red rope burn. “You’re really hurt, Y/n.” The crack in his voice made her heart sink.

“I’ve been through worse, spider,” she tried to tease, pressing her hand against the area she felt the pain. Peter loosened his grip on her, awkwardly holding onto his mask. Y/n however, took one of his hands in her free on, smiling up at him through tear filled eyes. “You look good, Peter. Still as handsome as I remember.” She chuckled, but winced slightly, “Quite the spider studded reunion, am I right?”

The man let out a watery chuckle, sniffing again, “I-I,” he tried to speak, but was having trouble. “There’s so—so much I-I want to say, Y/n. You have no idea,” he felt her squeeze his hand, Peter repeating the action, “B-but we don’t have much time.” His voice was pained, “Jus-just like—just like last time—we never have enough time—.”

Y/n shushed him softly, “Oh, Peter. You don’t have to say anything. I already know.”

Peter was confused, tilting his head as he tried to speak, “Wh-what? H-how would you—.” She cut him off gently by bringing her hand up to caress his cheek.

“Your eyes,” she whispers, smiling when he instinctively leans into her touch. “Your eyes always spoke a thousand words when you were unable to find your voice. I see it now, my spider. You hold all this pain, regret, and sorrow for what happened to me. You blame yourself, but honey it was not your fault.” Peter made a sound, his eyes closing at her words as she continued to stroke his cheek. “Peter, the person to blame is the one who did it. Not you. My spider would never blame himself for something out of his control.”

“Y/n,” his voice cracked, eyes full of tears when he opened them, “I could’ve saved you—I could’ve done more.”

She just shook her head, taking her other hand to cup his cheeks. “No, Peter. You did all that you could. I’m sorry I put you in that position,” her lip quivered, feeling the guilt eat at her because it was her betrayal that made him feel like he failed her. “God, Peter, I-I’m so sorry. If anyone is to really blame it’s me. I-I was so hurt and angry—I should’ve never did what I did and I’m sorry you had to be the one to suffer for my mistake. You should hate me—yell at me, blame me for putting you though this—.”

“I could never hate you, Y/n.” Now it was his turn to console her, voice full of seriousness. “I loved you Y/n—I still do. I will always have a piece of me that loves you, and it’s that love for you which keeps me going everyday despite you being gone.”

“I still love you too,” She cried softly, feeling him wipe away the tear from her face. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, spider.” There was no way they could be together. This version of Peter and Y/n. He’d return to a world without his Black Cat. It was a like the ending of a tragic love story.

He was a glimpse from her stolen future, while she was a memory of his past.

“Me too, Cat,” he brought her back into a hug, careful not to cause more harm to her. Peter felt the final tear fall from his eye, “I wish we had more time, darling.”

Daylight had started to brake at the now semi-destroyed Liberty island. The copper shield was no longer in Lady Libertys hold after Norman Osborn made his grand appearance. This resulted in the ritual box containing the botch spell destroyed, Mj nearly falling to her death if Peter 3 hadn’t caught her, and Peter 2 holding onto Y/n when they lost their footing on the scaffold.

Her grappling hook came in handy, making them lower the momentum of the fall when the rope fully extracted. “God, I really hate that guy,” she cursed when they landed on the ground safely. The rope retracted, hook in tow and Y/n hooked to her side. “You better hurry up and cure him before I kill him.”

She was being serious. The Black Cat had enough of the Green Goblin—she had the markings to prove it. At this point she didn’t give a fuck if Norman was cured. The Goblin did enough damage in her eyes. They’d be doing the multiverse a favor by erasing him.

Peter (2) gave her a warning look, “Just stay here okay—find Otto.” He was out of her sight before she could argue, Y/n letting a defeated groan out as her hands fell to her sides.

“Typical.”

Jogging to the other edge of the destruction where everyone was, minus the wizard guy, Y/n spotted Otto next to Max. The scientist looked pleased to see her well, as was she to him. “What a day. Huh, doc?”

“Definitely not one I imagined when I woke up this morning—or should I say two days ago.” Sheesh she didn’t even realize it had been almost two days. Everything happened so fast they barely had time to remember how much time went by.

Thankfully Y/n didn’t see what took place on the shield, otherwise Norman wouldn’t have lived to see the next day. Ten minutes had passed and she still didn’t see Peter (2) so she started moving to the area he at. Otto watching her with sad eyes. It was only a matter of time.

There she saw Peter in an embrace with the other versions of himself—though she could make out the taller version of him holding up by his side. As the younger pulled away, Y/n hearing him say, “I guess I’ll see ya,” she knew what was about to happen.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Not to mention there were cracks and strange symbols in the sky.

The young boy had landed in front of her, making her jump back at the sudden movement which he apologized for. “Sorry, I-I just wanted to thank you, Y/n. For everything.” He was talking about the apartment. How she had tried to get May out and protect him by taking on Norman herself.

“Anytime, little spider,” she said one last time, a slight waiver in her tone. She carefully brought him into a hug, whispering in his ear, “You’re a good kid, Parker. Thank you for this.” Peter nodded against her shoulder, squeezing her gently until they pulled away. With one last smile, he was out of her sight and rushing to his friends.

Tears brimmed her version, and Y/n carefully made her way across the debris as the sadness swarmed in her. When she made contact with the shield, aware the two Peters were watching her, the taller one patted his counterpart on the shoulder. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” Peter (2) looked to him in gratitude, limping toward Y/n with grief in his expression.

It was then she noticed Norman in a dazed wonder sitting to the side. Y/n wanted nothing more than to spit on him, but refrained seeing the cure had worked. “Bastard,” she mumbled when she met his eye—seeing him shudder by her malice. There was some pride in her seeing the cuts to his face though.

“Nice, kitty,” Peter teased, wincing when her arms went to his side, helping him when she saw the wound, “You’re hurt, spider.” He let out a pained laugh despite the crack in his voice.

“I’ve had worse, Cat.” Part of her wanted to glare for him using her earlier words, but now was not the time for that.

Y/n tightened her hold on him, letting her head fall to his chest as she sniffed. “I-I guess this is it then for us,” she tried to laugh it off, but it just came out as a sob. Y/n felt his hand come up to stoke her head, the woman leaning more into his touch. “I—. I’m so sorry, Peter,” she had to say it again. To let him know how deeply remorseful and sorry she was for her mistakes. For causing him pain when she was blinded by anger.

“I know, Y/n,” he replied though sniffs, trying to keep himself calm, “I forgave you a long time ago.”

“It isn’t fair,” she cried, hearing him shush her like she were a delicate child. “How am I—how am I supposed to go back home, knowing what I do? And you have to go back—.” Y/n sobbed as the last fight they had played in her mind, “I never meant the things I said to you that day, Peter. I was blinded—I-I was so privileged to have your love and I treated it like trash. Like the fucking bad person I am. I shouldn’t have said what I said—it wasn’t true. I love you for you Peter, not because you’re Spider-Man. I was a fool to think otherwise.”

Peter continued to pet her head, placing kisses to her crown. “Darling, you’re not a bad person—I don’t want you to ever think that way. I know you loved me for me, Y/n. Just as I loved you for you.” He tightened his grip when she sobbed again, “You have to forgive yourself, Y/n.”

“W-what if it still happens, Peter? This-this would have all happened for nothing.”

“Don’t think like that,” he tells her, leaning his cheek against her hair. Peter closed his eyes to keep the water at bay, “You don’t know what will happen, Y/n. Go on with you life—the second chance at one you weren’t supposed to have. Don’t think about the ‘what ifs’ and ‘hows.’ Just do what your heart tells you to. You’re going to be okay in the end. I promise you, Y/n.”

The cracks in the sky sounded causing Y/n to look up and see they were replaced with the symbols conjured by the wizard. It would only be a few moments before they were back to their respected universes—and realities.

“Promise me you won’t forget me, spider,” Y/n smiled at him, despite the anguish painting every inch. “You won’t forget this Cat will you?”

Peter brought her hand to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to her gloved knuckles before repeating the action on her wet cheek—careful to avoid the bruises. “I’ll remember you till the day I die, Y/n. Until my last breath.” There was a fuzzy feeling erupting the two, and Peter remembered something— his hands going into the pocket he had in his suit. “I-I almost forgot—I-I needed to give you this.”

Y/n watched him remove folded pieces of paper and a small necklace. She gasped when she recognized it. “You did it! W-wait, did both of you do this?” Her hand took the probability necklace from his palm, holding it out to see it was in fact completed with a glimmering shine to it.

“Peter—the young one—was the one to get it to work,” he smiled at her excited expression, “I just helped with the finishing touches.” There was emotion filling Y/ns eyes, feeling bittersweet at the fact he helped with her cure. Doing one last thing to help her even though she wouldn’t be his Y/n anymore.

“Thank you, Peter.”

The older man nodded gesturing for her to hand it back. “Here, let me.” Peter clasped the necklace around her neck, being mindful of the marks she had and let the little pendant sit comfortably on her suit covered chest. “There. Now you get to control how much ‘bad luck’ comes to someone.”

A light giggle escaped her, her fingers holding onto the charm before letting go. “What’s that?” She gestured to the folded pieces of paper, curiosity in her gaze. Peter had a slight redness to his cheeks, fiddling with the paper.

“It’s a letter,” he explained, holding it out for her to take. “But not for you,” he added when her hand touched it, making her look up at him perplexed.

“Then why are you—.”

“It’s for him.”

Y/ns mouth fell in the form of an ‘o’, immediately catching onto his drift. “Oh. O-okay,” she said, taking the bundle of paper and placing it in one of the many pockets of her suit. “I’ll give it to him—th-the moment I see him.” Nerves filled the Cat, she didn’t know how she was going to cross that bridge when she ultimately got there.

The fuzzy feeling soon grew, the symbols in the sky growing brighter. A shaky breath left them both. Y/n wiped away the tears still running, but it didn’t help because more just continued to flow. “I love you, Peter Parker. Always remember that,” she took his hand and squeezed with all her energy.

“And I love you, Y/n L/n,” he squeezed her hand back, seeing the bright light consume her. She saw it too from him, her heart pounding through her chest as she continued to cry.

“Forever,” was the last word she heard him say.

The bright light became too much, Y/n having to squint her eyes as the image of Peter slowly disappeared, her hand feeling empty. When the light went away, Y/n felt the air leave her.

Peter wasn’t standing in front of her, nor was the taller of version of him to the side. When she spun around, the wizard wasn’t casting spells in the sky. Younger Peter was no where to bee seen nor were the other villains she had become acquainted with.

He was gone and she was alone.

Her heart couldn’t take it and Y/n fell to her knees on the curb of the Island. Cries of anguish poured out of her, hugging herself as she ignored the pain all over. The only witnesses to her misery were the birds chirping as the sun rose over the horizon and Lady Liberty standing tall above.

Funny how Y/n got to see the sun rise. The start of a new day—one she wasn’t supposed to see.

It was over—she was back in her universe. Not knowing if she was sent back to the exact moment she was pulled from, or if it had been days later.

And Peter. Her kind, loving Peter who went thought hell would return home knowing she would still be gone in his world. Y/n silently prayed he had overcome his guilt after they finally got closure. He needed to remove the burden he held on his shoulders. Maybe the future would look bright for him.

Maybe it would for her.

Y/n was scared at what was in store for her. Wiping her face while catching her breath, she pushed herself off the ground. It was early morning, just like it was seconds ago on the alternate world. There was no one but her on the island, and the docks across the river were setting up for the day.

Y/n needed to find out what day it was. She had to know.

There was hope in her mind that she returned two days after the moment she was pulled. If that was the case then the plan with Eddie and Flint had already happened. Peter would be alive—he had to have been. It was then dread filled her.

What if it was her death that meant Peters survival?

No, she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t think of the ‘what ifs’ like the future Peter had said. He wouldn’t have given her the letter if he felt the past version of him would die if Y/n had lived.

She had to find her Peter. And she had to find him fast.

There ferries to Liberty Island wouldn’t be running for hours, so Y/ns only chance at making it to the city was to swim—which ironically she wasn’t the best swimmer much like her alter ego namesake—or use her grappling hook and the passing ships to get across. It was an easy decision, the latter option it was.

It took longer than what Y/n had wanted to get back to the city. She had to work with timing of the very slow ships to catch her hook onto until she managed to get a good aim at the Brooklyn Bridge. Once she did that, Y/n was able to run and swing through the pillars of the bridge until she finally made it to the streets of New York.

The first thing she had to do was find a newspaper. That was easy. Dropping into a alley by a corner store, Y/n checked her surroundings before breaking off the seal of the paper stack in front of the door. She didn’t bother reading the headline first and instead took the paper in her hands—shooting her hook to pull her on the roof.

There, Y/n could catch her breath. She limped to other side away from the public eye—which would be filling the streets at any moment and finally unfolded the newspaper. It was Friday when she left, so the first thing her eyes searched for was the date. A relieved laugh fell from her mouth, “Well I’ll be damn.”

‘THE DAILY BUGLE—SUNDAY MARCH 12, 2006: SPIDER-MAN FACES OFF SANDMAN AND SYMBIOTE HOLDING BROADWAY STAR HOSTAGE. SANDMAN FLEES, WATSON RESCUED, SPIDER-MAN SAVES THE DAY ONCE MORE (SEE PAGE 5 FOR DETAILS)’

Tears of relief now replaced the ones of anguish. Y/n felt it pool every inch—feeling the overwhelming happiness. Peter was right, everything was going to be okay for her.

It had been two days. It wasn’t Friday morning, it was Sunday. “O-Oh my God,” a hand went to her mouth to stop the laughs mixed with her tears. At this point Y/n didn’t care about the pain from her broken ribs or concussed head. All she cared about was she was back home and her Peter was okay.

Gathering herself, Y/n threw the paper to the side—leaving it behind as she swung through the air in the direction of Peters apartment. In the back of her head Y/n kept reminding herself he would not be the Peter she met in the alternate world. This was her true version of him—the one of this new reality—where anything could happen now.

Still in her dirty, bloodied state with her new suit, Y/n climbed up the stairs of the apartment complex in a rush. She tried to keep her movements quiet so his nosy neighbors wouldn’t come busting out their doors, but she was filled with excitement, anxiety, and adrenaline.

Reaching the top, not caring about who would hear her, Y/n banged on his door. “Peter!! Peter it’s me!! It’s Y/n—please I need to talk to you! Ahh!” She groaned when pain erupted on her side. Y/n really needed to see a doctor. It’d be a true tragedy if she fucking died right there because she held off going to a hospital. “Peter!!”

Her body fell to the side out of breath when the click of a lock sounded and the door flew open. Peter didn’t have time to react at the sudden appearance of Y/n—who he hadn’t heard of for days and was quite frankly pissed off with— because he was pushed inside his apartment when her arms went around him.

It made him stumble, the two nearly falling to the ground if he hadn’t grabbed her waist to steady them. “Y/n?!” His tone was a mix of anger and bewilderment. “Where the hell have you—?” The words cut off when he felt her shoulders shake in his hold, hearing the soft cries.

“Oh-oh my gosh, it’s really you,” she pushed her face into his chest, hiding it away from his vision. “You’re okay—you’re okay. It—it actually—I can’t believe it.” Peter felt her grip tighten, like she was holding onto him for dear life.

The anger he was feeling changed to confusion at her state. ‘What the hell is she talking about?’ He thought.

When he managed to pull away to get her hair out of his face, that’s when the alarm struck him seeing the white strands painted dark red. “Y/n,” he gently put his hands on her shoulders to ease her away. “Y/n, what happened?” The panic in him only increased when he finally got her to show her face to him, “Oh my God.”

Cuts with dried blood were painting her skin, purple and yellow bruises on her neck and jaw with irritation like there had been some kind of material constricting her. Her white hair had dried blood staining the area by her temple. And that was only the visible injuries he could see. That’s when he noticed the suit she was wearing—it wasn’t the one she normally wore.

Peter didn’t want to think about what injuries laid underneath.

“Y/n,” his tone was serious, “Who did this to you? Uhh—my god, you—we need to get you to the hospital!” Everything that had happened the past couple days disappeared from his brain—all he could focus on was her beaten form. “When did this happen?! Y/n—what—where have you been the last two days?”

There were so many questions the man was becoming filled with anxiety. He held her by her side to get her onto the couch, careful when she moaned at the contact to her ribs. “Shit,” he cursed, “Stay there—okay? I’m gonna call an ambulance.”

Y/n threw off her mask, letting it fall to the opposite side of the sofa. “No! Wait—don’t do that yet!” He just looked at her like she was crazy.

“Y/n, who knows what kind of internal bleeding you have. Do you not see yourself? You show up after two days of being missing beaten to a pulp and you want me to wait? No! You’re hurt and if you wait any longer you’ll could die—.”

“I should already be dead!!”

The phone fell to the floor, sound in it’s wake. Y/n wanted to curse at herself—feeling stupid by the outburst, but it was in the heat of the moment. Tears brimmed in her vision when she heard Peters weak voice, “W-what? What’re you talking about, Y/n?” Y/n stared up at the ceiling, letting her one hand caress the smooth pendant around her neck.

“I should already be dead, Peter,” her voice broke, the heartbreak echoing off the walls. “—I wasn’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen. And you won’t understand, because you weren’t there,” Y/n bit her lip, trying finish what she was trying to tell him. “Friday—Friday something happened. Something unimaginable,” she let her head fall so she could look at him, getting lost in his gorgeous blue eyes she had come to love. “You probably wouldn’t have thought it was real either—but it was. I swear to you.”

Her eyes stayed with his as he slowly walked toward her, kneeling down beside her legs. “What happened?” He asked once more, worry in his gaze. He didn’t like seeing her like this—even if he was upset with her. Here she was looking like hell and saying she was supposed to be dead. How was the man supposed to react?

In all honestly she didn’t know how to explain to him the once in a lifetime experience she had. But it was worth a shot.

“You know how you’ve always had that theory about a ‘multiverse,’” she waited for his nod before continuing, “What if I told you, it were true. That beyond our universe lays an infinite number of worlds and realities where—,” she reached for his hand, smiling softly when he let her take in. “—where other versions of ourselves exist. Versions of us who experience things one could only imagine. Worlds with multiple heroes and villains—worlds with magic.”

Peter furrowed his brow, trying to follow along. “I’d probably ask what drug you’ve been taking, Y/n.” She let out a defeated sound, letting her head fall back as more tears flowed from her.

“Peter, I know it’s hard to trust me right now. But please I need you to believe me when I tell you what I’m saying is the truth.”

He only sighed, shaking his head, “I’m having trouble doing that, Y/n. Do you hear what you’re saying? Look, y-you could be concussed and your mind is playing tricks on you.” Peter had never seen her like this and it honestly scared him.

“N-no,” she cried, squeezing his hand, “You have to believe me, please. I wouldn’t lie about this. Look I— Friday night I was supposed to be at the fight—and you can be angry at me and I’m really sorry—it was a mistake and I was blinded by my anger, but you need to hear this. I was pulled into an alternate universe where an alternate version of you exists and it was the day I was supposed to die! There was a kid version of you who was the Spider-Man of that world—Otto, Norman, and a future Flint got pulled in too!” She saw his concerned look at the names she mentioned, but continued to ramble, “So did Dr. Connors from another world as a giant lizard—with this guy who controlled electricity. Their Peter turned up—he was taller and in his twenties. And—and there was you—it was you from the future. I-I—.

“Anyway, there were six of us—Spider-Man villains—that were pulled from a moment in time in the past, except Flint. When the kid Peter Paker found out most of us died fighting you he wanted to change that. He-he wanted to help us—because that’s what Spider-Man does—,” Y/n felt another tear fall as she sniffed, “—you help people—even if they’re not deserving of it. And he tried, God the kid had tried to do it on his own, but the Goblin took control and all hell broke lose—.” Her head shot up remembering the necklace she was wearing.

“This!” She held it to him to see, “This is what the kid a-and the future you helped make. It’s my ‘cure’—a probability necklace that controls how much ‘bad luck’ I produce. They made it in hopes I would not die when I returned home.” Her bottom lip quivered, thinking back to the other Peter.

When he didn’t respond, she felt her heart drop, “It’s not a lie, Peter.”

The man was in stunned silence. Who could blame him? It’s not everyday your ex turns up on your doorstep with a story he could only think would be seen in a movie. He wanted to believe her, because Y/n had never been so distressed and persistent. But he was still having trouble trusting her after everything.

“Then tell me who did this to you? If you went to this ‘alternate universe’ then who hurt you this bad, Y/n. Tell me the truth.”

Y/n flinched before sniffing, looking dead in his eye as she weakly replied, “Norman Osborn.”

If Peter could feel his stomach drop then that’s what was happening. His eyes were like saucers staring at her. “N-no. No-no-no,” he shook his head, not liking her confession at all. Y/n tried to lean forward but the sharp pain had her leaning back. “No that’s it, I’m calling the ambulance right now—you need to get checked by a doctor. And when you’ve fully recovered, then maybe you’ll remember who really did this.”

Y/n just let the tears silently fall from her as Peter stood from the ground and dial 9-1-1. She could hear him speak to the operator, telling them to hurry as it was an urgent matter. All she felt was misery knowing it was going to take an arm and a leg to convince Peter what she said was true. It didn’t help his trust in her was practically nonexistent.

“They’ll be here in five minutes,” he put the phone back on the charger before walking toward her. “We need to get you out of this suit—which where the hell did you get anyway?”

She ignored his slight glare when she blankly said, “the other world.” Y/n just let Peter guide her to his closet where he helped unzip the suit. She saw his eyes travel the many bruises on her side—the man flinching as anger seemed to darken in him. Not anger at her, but at whoever did it.

Peter gently helped her into one of his hoodies and sweatpants. He didn’t notice her fumbling with one of the suit pockets before he had the chance to hide it in the closet. Y/n tucked the folded pieces of paper in the pocket of the sweatpants, making sure it was safe before Peter lifted her in his arms and led them down the stairs of the complex.

The ambulance had just pulled up, two EMTs exiting the front and moving to the back to get the stretcher. “Place her right here for us, sir.” Peter moved to the gurney, gently placing Y/n on the cushion. “Unfortunately sir you can’t ride with us. You’ll have to get to the hospital on your own.”

Y/n didn’t like the sound of that, “W-wait—no! I need help him. Please can’t he come with us?” She was tightly holding onto his hand, looking panicked at being alone. Peter squeezed her hand, telling her it was okay.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s protocol.” Y/n whimpered, feeling crushed and she reached into her pocket where the wad of papers were. As the EMTs started to strap her in, Y/n pushed the paper into his hand she was holding.

“R-read it,” she stuttered out, feeling the exhaustion overtake her as the adrenaline finally wore off for the hundredth time in two days. “He—he wanted me to give—give it to you. Please, r-read it.” Y/n weakly squeezed Peters hand, letting her head fall back onto the stretcher as they wheeled her away. “I love you. I love you—remember that.”

Her hand felt cold when she lost the feeling of his and with an IV hooked to her arm, Y/n let the tired feeling overtake her. She needed the sleep and prayed she’d wake up.

Peter was left standing on the street as the sirens sounded from the speeding ambulance. He was frozen still by the last words she said to him. The complete opposite of the ‘I fucking hate you!’ she’d screamed at him the week before. Peter snapped out of the memory of their fight—not wanting to relieve it.

With the papers in his hand, Peter went back into his apartment still trying to process all that had happened. Taking a seat on the sofa, he looked down at the material in his hands. They were crumbled, like they had been folded several times and were passed on. It made him confused what Y/n meant when she said, “He wanted me to give it to you.”

Who was ‘he?’ the vigilante questioned.

Unfolding the paper, careful not to rip them by accident, he cursed when one of them fell from the wad. It was face down, looking similar to a Daily Bugle news article. But it was brownish in color, like it was an old one that’d been kept for years. With a raised brow, he reached down to pick up the article—turning it around only to feel the air leave him once more.

It was a Daily Bugle front page issue. And not the issue he expected.

Because the date of publishing was Saturday March 11, 2006. And the headline read; “BREAKING NEWS: NEW YORKS FAMED CAT-BUGLUR ‘BLACK CAT’ IS DEAD FOLLOWING BATTLE BETWEEN SPIDER-MAN, SANDMAN, AND SYMBIOTE FRIDAY NIGHT (SEE PAGE 5 FOR DETAILS).

“W-what,” Peter said aloud, horror in his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There on the center of the article was a picture of him in his torn suit, but in his arms was Y/n. And she looked lifeless. Her earlier words echoed in his mind, “I should already be dead!”

“Th-this isn’t—this can’t be real.” Peters hands fumbled with the other papers, noticing how a few small ones were stapled together—then there was another article with the matching headline. He placed the stapled stack to the side, letting his attention read over the article with the same date as the front page.

“Saturday March 11th, 2006–Published by J. Jonah Jameson: ‘Friday nights horror came to a climatic conclusion when Spider-Man—with the help of an unknown man on a glider, rescued actress Mary Jane Watson from her captivity by the black Spider-Man symbiote and sandman. New Yorks famed cat-bulgur—who happened to be an occasional ally of the crime fighting vigilante—was among the casualties resulting from the devastation. It’s no saying whether or not whose side the Black Cat was on, but there is one thing clear, Spider-Man was seen to be in deep agony by her death as he was last seen holding her body below the scaffold. Witnesses can account they saw the Black Cat prevent Spider-Man from getting close to Ms. Watson, but then in a change of events was seen fighting the symbiote. The last eye witness testimony is stated that shortly before the chaos came to an end, she was tossed from the building—unable to catch herself before hitting the ground. Spider-Man was then seen in a state of distress—holding her in his arms away from the crowd. The latest autopsy reveals the Black Cat suffered a broken neck, multiple fractures to the spinal cord, and abrasions to the skull. It is believed she was killed at the hands of the symbiote before being thrown from the building. The sandman has since fled the area with no current leads, as is the case for the symbiote. There has been no statement from Spider-Man and the police are treating this as an active investigation.”

By the time Peter finished reading the article—his eyes were red. Not only that, but his hands were shaking and he felt like he could fall into a panic attack at any moment.

How the hell was this real? The article was dated the day before, but what it said didn’t happen. Not to him—yes Flint was gone, Harry and Eddie were dead, but Y/n wasn’t. No she was on her way to the hospital and will hopefully be out in a few days.

But why was Peter having a hard time thinking—and why he kept thinking about her frantic words. “Friday something happened, something unimaginable.”

Peter thought back to Friday night. It was horrible for him to think about, but he needed to for the sake of what he had read. He remembered how Eddie seemed pissed more so—and how he asked Peter, “Where’s your little cat friend? She was supposed to be here.” Honestly the anger he felt knowing Y/n had betrayed him like that blinded him for the rest the fight.

Eddie was really angry, telling Peter, “Once I’m done with you, I’m gonna find your little bitch. And I’m gonna show her what happens when you double cross me.” It was enough to make him assume Y/n had bailed. Going back on whatever word she had promised Eddie. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s pulled a stunt like that, but this article was making his brain foggy.

He then remembered the stack of papers he had put to the side. With shaky hands, Peter unfolded the remaining layer to have his eyes landed on familiar handwriting. It made his heart quicken, knowing damn well he didn’t write whatever it was in his hands. Then he saw the date and his head dropped with anguish.

It was dated November 26th, 2023. Seventeen years in the future in his own handwriting.

“He wanted me to give this to you,” Y/ns voice echoed in mind. She was talking about him—the future Peter. And if the article was true, which Peter now believed it had to have been, it meant the version of him who wrote the letter in his hands had witnessed Y/n die. He was the one in the picture on the front page.

Taking a moment to gather himself as the truth settled in, Peter took a deep breath before reading.

‘Peter,

I know this is going to seem crazy, but anything Y/n has managed to tell you before giving this letter to you is true. I didn’t know what to say—as you probably know it’s hard to come up with words on the spot, especially when you’ve thought about them for so long. I’m going to keep this as simple as I can because I don’t have much time. The other versions of ourself—you from other worlds, which yes the multiverse is real and I’m experiencing it first hand—anyway they are almost done with the cures for Osborn, Connors, and Flint. Once that’s done we’ll be heading to the location we’ve planned to ambush them in hopes of changing the trajectory of their future—so they have a second chance at life. This is going to cause new realities to form where their death didn’t happen.

Which brings me to someone you will get the pleasure of having in your new reality—someone I will never see again. Y/N.

You see, Peter, Y/n was killed in front of me on the night of March 10th, 2006.’ Peter had to wipe away a tear from his cheek, pausing for a moment before continuing, ‘Everything that happened to you involving the symbiote and Flint, happened to me too. The difference now is Y/n was there at the site as planned. You may be angry with her, and trust me I was too, but Y/n realized her mistake and did what she did to stop Eddie. When MJ fell from the taxi, Y/n was the one to catch her and bring her to safety. She also caused a water pipe to burst so Flint would be unable to get bigger in his sand form.

Then, she protected me. And I had to watch helplessly when Eddie stole Y/ns life from her. The last words she told me were she loved me.’ A sob left his mouth, and Peter cursed when a water droplet landed on the paper he had flipped over. There wasn’t much left and he was approaching the end.

‘I can never go back and stop that moment from happening, Peter. Not even with the magic this world has will I get to. And I’ve had to live everyday for the past seventeen years with fleeting regret and sadness knowing I failed Y/n. She wouldn’t want me to think that way—as you probably would know, but it didn’t stop those thoughts from clouding me since she left my life.

The words I said to her that last fight, I never got to tell her how much I regretted it. How I had the moment I kicked her out. God how I wish I never did that, and then seeing the scared look in her eye when Eddie was holding her will haunt me forever. Even if she tells me tonight if I see her to not blame myself, I still will. I didn’t even get to tell Y/n how much I loved her before she was taken from me. It’s not a feeling I want you to have. Not when you have this opportunity to fix what happened and keep her in your life.

There is so much love in friendship, people tend to forget that. Even if a relationship is not in the cards for you two, there’s still a chance at being in each other’s life for the better. And if something happens, then cherish it, Peter. Because it’s my biggest regret that I never got to tell Y/n how much she meant to me.

I still don’t know if I’ll even be able to say it if I see her. I’m honestly scared and it pains me knowing it will be the last time I’d ever get to. She’ll go home to your new reality, while I have to live in a world where my Black Cat is gone.’ The mans heart broke reading that line, feeling the grief through the letter of his future—now alternate future self.

‘You get to live in a world where she’s alive. Where she gets to live the life that was stolen from her. She’s going to need you after what she just went thought—the knowledge she has to live with now and the trauma from nearly dying at Osborns hands,’ there was a flare of anger in his veins as he read over the name. ‘Y/n fought like hell from what this worlds Peter told me. It’s going to take time for her to be her normal self after spending two days in another universe, being near past versions of Norman and Otto, fighting Norman as the Goblin, and not to mention the future version of Flint was the one who told her what happened.

Then there’s going to be the fact she will more than likely feel guilty after seeing me. I’m not the Peter she knows, you. Y/n will feel like she is to blame for everything and it’s your job to not make her feel that way. Eddie was the one who fed on her vulnerability and anger for you. She’ll feel sad about me blaming myself, but assure her I’m going to be okay. I’ll still miss her everyday, but seeing her alive tonight and getting closure will finally bring me peace.

Peter flipped to the final page, his entire face wet with moisture. With one last sniff he finished the final paragraph just as he realized the last paper stapled was actually a photo. One of Y/n he had taken a month ago, but had yet to develop, ‘I hope you’re able to do better than me, Peter. It’s what you both deserve. Take care of Y/n for me. Remind her everyday she’s safe and cared for. You’re support is going to get her though this. She loves you—remember that. And I know you love her. —Peter”

When the anesthesia wore off after several hours, Y/n felt her eyes flutter open but closed them at the harsh lights filling her vision. A whimper escaped, and it was then she felt movement to her side—realizing someone was holding her hand.

A figure hovered over her as the person squeezed her hand, Y/n opening her eyes only to be met with the gorgeous bright blue ones she had loved. “P-Peter?” She whispered, concern in her gaze when she saw the redness in eyes and dried tears. “You-you’re here.”

His lips were on her forehead, kissing the skin not covered by the bandage. It was then Y/n could see the papers peaking from his jacket pocket, his handwriting catching her attention. The woman letting out a gasp, seeing the knowing look on his face which indicated he had read them.

And he believed every word. Both from what she said and what his future self wrote him.

“Y-you—.” she tried, but the words couldn’t form when he brought her hand up to also press a kiss to her knuckles.

“Of course I’m here, darling.” He let his free hand caress her cheek, letting the tear fall in relief at seeing her awake. “I love you, Y/n. It’s gonna be okay—we’re going to get through this. Together.” She didn’t even realize she was crying until his finger brushed away the tear, his lips moving to her cheek with affection.

“Together,” Y/n repeated.

Content filled her as night took over and the day came to an close. Love and optimism replacing the fear and dread she had been feeling since the moment she left his arms. The universe truly worked in mysterious ways.

The Black Cat had went through hell and back—jumping across a Universal pond on the day her life was to come to an end. Fate had plans, but with the help of alternate versions of the man she loved, Y/n got a second chance. She wasn’t the only one. Five other lost souls in the cosmos were experiences the same thing.

And the vigilantes who helped them, got closure in their own way after what one would call, a spider studded reunion.

Out there in his universe, under a cold December breeze, Peter Parker stood in front of the headstone labeled ‘Y/n M/n L/n 🤍: 1983-2006–daughter & friend. ‘It seems so long ago how young and innocent we were.’

Kneeling down, he placed the white roses and sunflowers on the area below the engraving—adjusting it so it looked nice against the white marble. Peter had already visited his parents, Ben & May, then Harry, and saved his best girl for last.

The girl he knew was out there in another universe, with her version of him living the life he dreamed she’d have.

Bringing his lips to his mouth before setting them on her headstone, Peter whispered one final goodbye to his love. “Rest now, Y/n. It’s all going to be okay.”

———————

Ya’ll bishes don’t understand, I am literally fucking sobbing in my chair as I write NWH!Peter and Y/n saying goodbye. Like I’m actually a mess. I already was tearing up at them seeing each other again, but I’m a train wreck writing the goodbye. Fuck when I get to the end I don’t know how Imma be. -> I finished and I’m even more of a mess. How fucking dare I end it like that.

…………………….

Tag list: @n1ght5h4d3-24

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

summer breezes / george weasley

hi crew :) idk why i wrote this but i was in a george mood so here we go ;)

summary: george acts like he hates you, he doesn’t really hate you. you act like you hate him, but you don’t really hate him. chaos ensues.

slight neville x reader for a second

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, george being mean, lil angsty, fluffy at the end, reader’s house is not specified <3, mentions of food, kissing

let me know what you think ;)

“And what do you expect me to do? By the time I’d even realised I was falling I’d already landed face first on the proverbial concrete,” you groaned out in exasperation, while your best friend looked at you with so much distaste that anyone would’ve thought you’d murdered his family pet.

He shook his head, a scowl as clear as day splashed across his lips as he reprimanded you for your heart’s foolishness, “Of all people…” he scoffed in disgust, “Honestly, Y/n.”

“You know, you shouting at me isn’t going to fix anything,” he rolled his eyes at your statement and racked his eyes over your disheveled state. You’d obviously been battling with yourself over your—unfortunate—crush for some time. As your best friend, Ron Weasley knew he’d have to soften up on you eventually, but honestly, it was your own fault for falling for one of his disastrous siblings.

You were currently sprawled out on Harry’s bed, across from the red-headed boy you’d known since you were in nappies, your arms hanging off the edges of Harry’s four-poster. Neither you or Ron had a clue where Harry, or Hermione, had disappeared off to today. Harry was probably on the quidditch pitch practicing while Hermione haunted the library, you supposed as you listened to Ron’s rantings, wishing they’d been there to mediate.

“—of all of my siblings too! You couldn’t have picked, oh I don’t know, Charlie? Or Fred even? Merlin, even Ginny! But no! You just had to go and bloody fall for the only Weasley who actively cannot stand you.” You only caught that portion of his rave, having gotten lost in the idea of being coddled sympathetically by Harry or Hermione. You adore Ron, really, he’s your loyalist and longest friend, but Merlin was he a total drama queen.

“Charlie is five years older than me, Fred is my wingman and honestly, I snogged him on a dare last summer and I wasn’t that impressed and in case you’ve forgotten, Ronald, Ginny is dating Harry,” you lectured, ignoring how he rolled his eyes as you continued, “Also I’m well aware that he hates me. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”

His composure cracked after hearing your depressed mumble, and with a sigh he moved from his spot on his own bed and made the short trip over to Harry’s. Ron gently pulled you into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress and sat himself down next to you. He let out a heavy sigh, still slightly shaking his head—he couldn’t seem to stop—, then he dropped a heavy arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, finally offering you the comfort you’d been seeking out in the first place.

“S’alright, Y/n. Maybe he’ll get hit in the head with a bludger and forget he’s hated you since he was four.” Ron encouraged, very weakly.

You released a sigh of your own at that, “I feel like I’m betraying myself here. Like I’m letting that stupid git win.” Ron couldn’t stop the laugh he let out at your grumble.

“I’ll be honest, I thought he’d be the first to crack. You can be quite scary when you get going.” Ron divulged, shuddering at the memories of when he’d been on the receiving end of your rath.

Your family and the Weasley family had been extremely close since before you or Ron were even born, which meant you’d grown up alongside all of the Weasley children. Of course, because of your ages you and Ron had been attached at the hip as infants and remained that way even now, late into your fifth year of Hogwarts. Most of the Weasley children simply adored you, as you did them. However, there was one boy who, for whatever reason, hated you to your very core and as far as you could remember; he always had.

He is none other than the younger of the two twins; George Weasley. Despite the fact that Fred was actually quite fond of you, his twin refused to warm up to you in any way, shape or form. No, the tall and annoyingly attractive boy had made it his life’s mission not to get along with you, but instead, wage a war on you that spanned for the entirety of your childhood and adolescence.

“When did things change? When did it stop being a challenge? When did it start affecting me like this? I used to take his insults like a champ! I used to get him back worse!” You wondered out loud, letting your head flop onto Ron’s broad shoulder as he let out a puff of air through his nose.

“You still take it like a champ, numpty,” he chastised you gently, recoiling ever so slightly when you lurched forward in complete defeat. Your hands shot up to cover your face as you rested your forehead against your knees.

“No! I don’t,” you murmured dejectly, lifting your face from your hands to make eye contact with Ron. “Do you remember the other night in the Great Hall? When Neville told me he thought my hair looked pretty? And George, out of bloody nowhere, comes over and says and I quote, ‘I wouldn’t waste your time on this one, Longbottom. You’d have a better time kissing that toad of yours.’ Do you remember that?” Ron raised an eyebrow and nodded in confusion, your voice seemed to be steadily rising in octaves as you recalled the events of the other night. He had to admit, it had been an unusually unnecessary comment on George’s part, but the youngest Weasley boy wasn’t really sure where you were going with it.

“Well do you remember how I had said, ‘how’s that girlfriend of yours, Georgie? Figured out a way to make her stop being invisible yet?’ and then remember I rushed off? Do you wanna know where I rushed off to?” You pressed, watching intently as Ron nodded his head, unsure if he even wanted to know. “I went to the bathroom and I cried! I cried, Ron! Over something George bloody Weasley said to me!”

His eyes widened at that. Never once had George ever managed to properly upset you.

“And over something as small as that? I’ve heard him say a lot worse to your face.” Ron said in disbelief and you nodded, expression mimicking his as if you couldn’t believe it yourself.

“Right? And it’s like everytime he says something mean to me now my stomach drops and it actually hurts,” Ron regarded you softly, his eyes sad while he rubbed your back as you buried your face in your hands yet again, “Do you know what’s worse though?”

Ron opened his mouth to hazard a guess but no sound escaped as he drew nothing but blanks.

“I actually care what he thinks of me now. As if I actually value his idiotic opinions of me.”

It was at that moment that Harry entered the room sporting muddy quidditch gear and a confused expression, “May I ask why we’re having a heart to heart on my bed?”

Ron shrugged, continuing to rub soothing circles into your back as he told Harry mournfully, “Y/n likes George.”

“Merlin.” Harry whispered, as horrified to learn of your crush as Ron had been. “But, Y/n, he hates you! I mean he really hates you-“ the chosen one was cut off by a pillow making contact with his face. Ron had chucked it at him the second he felt your form begin to shake beneath his touch.

“Bloody hell, Harry! You’ve gone and upset her even more!” He whispered harshly. Harry quickly set his broom down and plopped himself down beside you, leaving you trapped between himself and Ron. The green-eyed boy rested his cheek against your lightly shaking back and managed to snake his arms around your torso.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” He told you genuinely. “Should we go and find Hermione?”

You only shook your head. Embarrassment quickly overtook you as you realised your were crying in front of your two best friends over George fucking Weasley.

“No. No, I’m okay. It’s fine,” you sat up and hastily wiped your tears away.

“It’s okay to be upset, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly, squeezing your middle in a short hug, getting mud from his quidditch practice all over you.

With a resolute shake of your head you stood up and faced the boys, who each looked at you with pity filled eyes, then you spoke as steadily as you could, “I’m not upset. He hasn’t upset me,” you weren’t fooling anyone, really. Your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks and nose were red and your voice was slightly hoarse when you spoke. The boys entertained you anyway, nodding in agreement.

“I’m telling you this as his brother and your best mate; you can do better.” Ron told you honestly, he wasn’t lying either, you were the type of girl who could get any boy she wanted without lifting a finger. Well, not any boy—obviously— but that wasn’t anything to do with you. Ron had his suspicions in regards to why his brother acted like such a knob towards you, however he’d been thrown off his scent recently when the older ginger stopped being mean to you teasingly in favour of being just plain mean.

You gave Ron the best smile you could muster at his words, “You are absolutely right, Ronald.”

Harry snorted before making his way over to Ron’s trunk, he rifled through it for a few seconds before pulling out one of Ron’s jumpers. He casually tossed, what you recognised to be Ron’s Christmas jumper from Molly, over to you with a grin, “Put that on. I got muck all over you.”

You had plenty of your own Christmas jumpers made by Molly Weasley but they were all the way over in your own dorm. Besides, you liked stealing the ones made for the boys as they were usually far too big for you which made them extremely comfortable to wear.

So you happily pulled the maroon jumper over your head, the wool effectively covering your dirtied t-shirt.

“Oh yes, by all means, you two just work away.” Ron grunted sarcastically. In all honesty, he didn’t care if you stole every piece of fabric he owned, if it made you feel better, he couldn’t care less.

“Right,” you said, making your way to the door of the dorm room, “I think I’ll go for a walk before the sunsets, calm myself down a bit.”

The boys nodded, “See you at dinner?” Ron asked and you gave him a smile and a small nod of confirmation before you set off out of the Gryffindor common room.

Thankfully, you didn’t run into George on your way out. You walked peacefully through the gardens and behind the greenhouses, it was around five in the evening and the sun was beginning to stoop low behind the tree line. The days were beginning to take on a chill as October approached quickly, you’d gone out without grabbing a jacket and you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to feel the cold nipping at your skin despite Ron’s jumper. Pulling the sleeves further down your wrists you carried on, trudging forward through the fallen leaves of the garden, you weren’t ready to go back inside yet. Going back to the castle meant you’d have to look your problem in the face, literally. You settled on the fact that you’d rather endure the physical cold rather than the emotional coldness you were sure to receive from George at dinner.

When you’d reached the back of the third greenhouse you could faintly hear someone humming to themselves and a soft smile found your lips when you saw who it was. Neville sat on a chair in the greenhouse, right by a plant that you hadn’t a clue what it was called, seemingly humming the little tune for the plant in question. Despite his undeniable clumsiness, there was something about Neville Longbottom that soothed you greatly. He has a good soul and his heart is usually in the right place, even if his head is sometimes screwed on slightly loose.

Gently, trying not to startle him you knocked on the closed door of the greenhouse before you opened it and walked in, “Hi, Neville. Mind if I join you?”

Neville blushed slightly but nodded his head, “Course! There’s a spare chair just there,” he pointed nervously to the chair. Once you settled yourself beside him, he let himself relax slightly.

“What sort of plant is this?” You asked him curiously. You really liked plants but you weren’t the best at keeping them alive, Neville though, seemed to be something of a green thumb.

He beamed at your question and quickly began to explain everything about the plant before you. You didn’t absorb a lot of it but listening to Neville speak so freely, something he rarely got to do amidst the other Gryffindor boys, filled you with a sense of serenity. Between his voice and the light wind that blew against the glass building, you’d completely forgotten about your red-headed problem.

“—sorry, I’m probably boring you. My nan says I have a tendency to ramble.” He cut himself off, cheeks heating up as he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

With a small giggle you only shook your head at the brown haired boy, “You’re not boring me at all! I quite like listening to you speak,” you admitted although you felt a bit silly after saying it out loud. Neville seemed to grow even more flustered after the words left your lips.

His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were teasing him, but all he saw was your kind eyes and comforting smile. Not exactly sure about what to say to you, Neville made an observation, “You’re cold.”

You gave him a nonchalant shrug, “I’m okay.”

Completely unsatisfied with your answer, Neville shook his head in protest and shrugged off his jacket. He was used to spending a lot of time in the garden so he was usually sporting far more layers than necessary, just in case. “Here, wear this. You’ll catch a cold otherwise,” he fretted and you didn’t have the heart to turn his offer down, you didn’t want to turn it down either, you were absolutely freezing. Gratefully you accepted the jacket and wasted no time in pulling it on.

“Thank you, Neville,” he looked you over for a moment, you could tell he was debating with himself on whether or not to speak, after a long few seconds of his eyes running over you he spoke.

“You look nice- I, uh, the jacket. You look nice in the jacket- I mean, the jacket looks nice on you-“ another giggle left your lips and effectively put the boy’s fumbled ramble to an end.

“Again, thank you, Neville. You are unbelievably kind.” You told him sincerely, quite enjoying the blush that adorned his cheeks.

“We should probably head back to the castle for dinner now. It’s gotten dark,” Neville said, standing up after giving his plant a loving pat.

The walk back to the castle with Neville was nice. The pair of you chatted idly about school subjects and house drama, but you had to admit, you weren’t paying a huge amount of attention to the conversation.

“Thanks again for lending me your jacket,” you said sweetly, shrugging the jacket off as you reached the main hall of the castle.

Neville, who seemed to be in a perpetual state of bashfulness, took the jacket back gently, a rosy blush painting his features, “It was no problem, really.”

Neville had always been incredibly kindhearted, sometimes to his own detriment. He treated people with respect and never turned anyone away if they needed help with anything at all. He is sweet, honest, loyal and, whether you liked him or not, he is indisputably adorable. And you found yourself thinking about how entirely better your life would be if your heart had chosen Neville to have a romantic fondness towards.

After separating from Neville, you made your way towards the Great Hall. On your way you bumped into Fred Weasley, who surprisingly, wasn’t accompanied by his twin. He greeted you with a wide smile and, as he always did, he ruffled your hair.

“So! I have a proposition for you,” the look on his face as he spoke was nothing short of wicked, a pit of nerves began to form in your stomach with the way his eyes were lit up excitedly.

“What are you proposing?” You encouraged exhaustedly. Whatever it was would probably end with you running from Filch.

Fred lopped his long arm around your shoulder, effectively pulling you along with him as he walked in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. Any chance of you getting fed this evening had gone out the window the second Fred clapped eyes on you, you’d made your peace with it. “I’m glad you asked, princess- “ at the sound of the pet name you let out a guttural groan.

“Freddie, please, I’m not in the mood to help you make some poor girl jealous just so you can get a snog,” you whined weakly only for the boy to ruffle your hair and tug you closer to his side.

“Let me finish! As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” he paused to glare at you jokingly and you smiled apologetically, “I have a plan to make George stop acting like a prat.”

A disbelieving scoff left your lips, “Yeah that’s likely,” Fred laughed and pinched your cheek lightly before carrying on.

“Angelina told me that she heard you crying in the girls toilets the other night,” he informed you. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, you didn’t think anyone was in there with you and you also couldn’t piece together what your moment of weakness had to do with Fred’s master plan. “And before you start, I know it’s because of George.”

“That’s ridiculous, Fred.” You lied, unconvincingly.

Fred laughed again, it was a gentle laugh that let you know he hadn’t come here to tease you but to help you, “I know it’s ridiculous and that’s exactly why I know you’ve been so down in the dumps the last few days.”

“Besides,” he started again when you remained silent, “Why else would Ron be giving his brother the silent treatment?”

“What does any of this have to do with your plan?” You asked, eyes sad and heart heavy for the second time that day. You’d only just managed to get the whole thing out of your mind, and yet, here it was again.

“Well I happen to know why George acts the way he does,” you met him with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression.

“Because he hates me, I know.” Fred’s lips grew into a wicked grin and he shook his head, coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

“That’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t hate you,” he lowered his lips to hover right by your ear before he whispered quietly, “He loves you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed the boy away, fixing him with a hard stare, “Come on, Fred. That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking!” He exclaimed desperately, “We were in potions making amortentia, yeah? And Slughorn called George up to tell the class what he smelled and do you know what he said?” Fred retold madly, knowing full well that this was possibly the only opening he’d get to make the two of you realise your own feelings. Fred was well aware that you developed a crush on George, he picked up on it the second you began looking crestfallen when hit with a snide remark from his twin. He knew long before now that George had loving feelings towards you too, but their recent potions class was the only hard evidence he had to support his theory.

You shrugged helplessly in response, and Fred grabbed your shoulders and looked down at you urgently, “He said it smelled of cloudberries, daisies and-this is a direct quote-‘summer breezes’,” you stared at him numbly, not exactly sure what to say as the description did match the perfume you’d been wearing regularly since you were thirteen.

“That’s you, Y/n!” Fred confirmed and you pulled your lips between your teeth before shaking your head in complete denial.

“Lots of girls wear that perfume-“ Fred cut you off, ruthlessly.

“Name one.” You racked your brain but you genuinely couldn’t name another person who wore the same perfume as you. “You can’t, can you? Because it’s your smell!”

“Ok fine! So it’s my smell, what exactly do you expect me to do with this information?” Fred rolled his eyes in exhaustion at you.

“Blimey, you’re as daft as he is sometimes, do you know that?” Fred ran his hands down his face in exasperation before looking at you softly, “I except you to come with me so we can drive him mental for a bit and if he gets nasty I’ll embarrass him because I’m an incredible brother.”

You let him lead you towards Gryffindor Tower all while complaining about how you were starving only for Fred to hush you each time you let out a hungered whine, “We can raid the kitchen later on, love,” he promised and you sighed in defeat, “That’s the spirit.”

When the pair of you entered the Gryffindor common room, George was already there, probably waiting for Fred to return it. He sat one one of the sofas that faced the fire, completely relaxed and you hated the fact that you thought he looked amazingly ethereal with the way the flames from the fire lit his skin in an orange glow.

He hadn’t noticed you yet and Fred took notice of this. The older twin subtly slid his hand into yours and intertwined your fingers with his before turning his head and shooting you a mischievous wink. Fred Weasley was a nightmare, but when he was on your side, he never failed to make you smile.

Accepting that whatever Fred was about to drag you into would result in nothing but chaos you took a deep breath and followed Fred over to the sofa.

“What is she doing here?” George practically seethed, despite the intensity of his glare, you didn’t miss the nervous look he shot in Fred’s direction. What you had missed, though, was how harshly he’d clenched his jaw upon noticing your intertwined hands.

You decided that tonight you’d play the game slightly differently, if what Fred was saying was true, it would make things all the more entertaining. So, instead of your usual menacing glare and ego-shattering insult you met George with an innocent smile, “Was just hanging out with Freddie, thought I’d come say hello,” you said, sitting in the middle of the two twins.

George stared at you suspiciously, “Hello. That all?”

“Hi. No, actually, I think I’ll sit with you for a while. If that’s okay?” Fred was smirking from his spot beside you as he watched George’s face contort.

“You’ve never wanted to sit with me before.” He told you, squinting his eyes and trying to decipher what you were up to. He couldn’t lie to himself, he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying so close to him for a while, however he’d also sooner die then let you think you had the upper hand.

His and your composure cracked simultaneously at your next sentence, your truthful and somewhat vulnerable mumble of, “Well, you’ve never given me a chance to.” He knew you were right so he didn’t say anymore, opting to shift his gaze to the roaring fire, trying his best not to let his mind linger on the fact that you were wearing his brother’s jumper. His nose perked up at the scent that drifted from your spot, unusually close to him. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d fancied you for a long time, but, there was also no denying that he’d done a perfect job of making you hate him. Yet, as much as he wanted to just cut the crap, tell you that he thinks you’re the most insufferably beautiful girl he’d ever seen and kiss you and never ever stop, his pride would never allow him to cave. Especially not when you challenged him so effortlessly.

“So how come you were headed to dinner so late anyway?” Fred piqued up, growing tired of the lack of hostility between yourself and his twin.

“Oh. I was sort of worked up earlier so I decided to go for a walk ‘round the greenhouses. I bumped into Neville and I suppose I just lost track of time,” you explained halfheartedly.

Fred let yet another smirk overtake his face, “Longbottom, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you let out a short giggle while shaking your head, sure, it would’ve been a good topic to tease George with, however, Neville was simply too sweet to be used as a pawn.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s very sweet. But he’s just a friend,” George looked almost satisfied with that answer, his usual scowl making an appearance once again.

“He could do better.” It was a barefaced lie. Neville couldn’t do better than you. In fact, George was of the firm belief that nobody could do better than you.

“Of course he could, he’s quite the charmer,” you spoke wistfully, finally giving Fred the show he’d been hoping for, as you egged George on.

George pretended to think for a moment, “I’m sure he is. Personally I think you’d be more suited to Filch, although, I’ve heard his standards are quite high.”

You took the boy by surprise when you laughed, the airy giggle left your mouth had such a profound effect on George that he almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut. His heart was leaping and there were butterflies beginning to form in his stomach, he physically had to will himself not to stare at you in awe when your eyes turned to meet his. The glow of the fire only aided in showing him how gorgeous those stupid eyes of yours are. “Mmm, yeah I suppose I should lower my expectations,” you paused briefly and mimicked George’s earlier motion of pretending to mull over your options. Your next action had Fred practically howling with laughter.

“You’re available, aren’t you Georgie?” You’d asked in a mock sultry tone, leaning towards him and lightly brushing your hand down his arm. Loving the way he choked on air you got up from the sofa, not before shooting him a wink, and sauntered towards the portrait hole, “I’ll be in the kitchens. See ya later, sexy.” You directed the last part at George, who looked as though he’d been frozen in time as Fred’s laughter grew in volume.

Upon entering the kitchen, the house elves had fussed around you, handing you food at any given opportunity. You had finished eating a while ago, you were currently nursing a hot cup of tea while chatting away to one of the house elves, only to be interrupted by someone else entering the kitchen.

He set his sights on you and quickly moved to the seat across from you, a look of urgency on his face that reminded you of Fred, “Whatever he told you. It’s not true,” you raised an eyebrow, sipping your tea uncaringly.

“Mind elaborating?” You asked tiredly.

“Fred.”

“Thank you, George, very clear and helpful,” you grumbled sarcastically and the boy let out a huff.

“You were acting different. You know something. What did he tell you?” George demanded through gritted teeth and you only deflated against your chair. It always boggled your mind how everyone described George as the nicer of the twins.

Not answering, you decided to start asking your own questions, “Can I ask you something?”

“Seems like you’re going to no matter what I say,” he sighed out as an elf pottered up to him and handed him a cup full of hot tea. He took it gently and thanked the elf with such sincerity that you wished you hadn’t seen the exchange, simply because it stung to know he’d never treat you with that level of sincerity.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He sat frozen for a second. Your tone of voice took him by surprise. It was needy bordering on desperate, nothing like he’d ever heard you speak before, not to him anyway.

George took a sip of his tea and shrugged as if the question was a stupid one, “I don’t.” A cold, humourless laugh came from you in response, the kind of laugh that made his stomach drop.

“Bollox. I’m being serious, George. Tell me what it is about me that makes me so insufferable to you!” You exclaimed, heart rate increasing and tone raising in octaves as you felt yourself growing more upset by his reserved expression.

George let out a heavy sigh, the jig was about to be up. You were upset and merlin was he tired of pretending that he didn’t want you in every way, shape and form.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” There was no trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your voice, at this point you didn’t care what the answer was you just had to know.

“Fine,” he said all too casually and you knew by his tone that he, as per usual, wasn’t taking you seriously. “I don’t hate you. The only insufferable thing about you is how annoyingly gorgeous-“ you cut him off right then, with a scoff of pure disbelief.

Shaking your head rapidly, you stood from your chair and all but stormed out of the kitchen. His footsteps began to echoed behind you a few corridors later, he would’ve caught up to you sooner had your response to his would be confession not left him completely immobile. He called your name but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Tears stung your eyes and you absolutely refused to let him know that he’d managed to bring you to the point of tears. Not that it was the first time.

“Bloody hell, Y/n! Hold on would you?” He called, finally getting close enough to reach out and grab your wrist. He spun you around to face him and quickly placed his hands on your upper arms to stop you from doing another runner. When he took you in he swore he’d never hate himself more than he did the moment he looked at you to see your eyes filled with tears, small drops escaping and carving a trail down your cheeks while you sniffed miserably.

“What?” You snapped, hostility the only thing you felt like offering the ginger in the moment. His brown eyes bored into yours with so much intensity but they held something you didn’t recognise. They looked sad, almost.

“I wasn’t making fun of you.” He stated honestly but you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes set in a glare.

“Then what were you doing?” You croaked, letting your tears fall freely as the damage was already done. The sinking of your stomach and the tightening of your chest didn’t do a thing to ease your mind as George’s hands squeezed your arms.

He licked his lips quickly, he felt they’d become unbearably dry, and then slowly, he let his hands trail down your arms and took your smaller hands into his own. He hoped you were feeling the same electricity he was when he touched you.

“I’ve been a prick to you. You didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, but you second guessed him. For all you knew it was just some elaborate prank, Fred was probably in on it too.

When your gaze didn’t soften, he continued to speak, “So I understand why you wouldn’t believe me when I tell you that I don’t hate you. But I just-“ he cut himself off with a heavy sigh.

“You just what?” You squeaked when his eyes spent a moment too long observing your lips. You hardly had time to register the feeling of his hands leaving yours before they were cupping your cheeks instead. “What’re you doing?” You wondered, completely dazed by the way he stared at you. His warm hands holding your face causing your stomach to jolt in an entirely different sensation than before. As much as you wanted to push him away and tell him to shove his apology, you couldn’t help but take him in. His lips were parted ever so slightly and his cheeks were flushed, probably from chasing you through the castle, his hair was disheveled and merlin he looked like he wanted to kiss you.

Your question floated in the air, completely unanswered. Next thing you knew his lips were on yours. He kissed you as if you were oxygen and he’d just been drowning and you couldn’t help but move your lips harmonically against his too. Your hands clutched his wrists as he continued to cradle your cheeks. In all honesty you weren’t sure at what point he’d backed you against the wall, or at what point his tongue had entered your mouth or when exactly his hands had migrated to your hips, yours now tangled in his hair. His body was pressed flush against yours and the small groans he’d let out when you tugged at his hair or ran your tongue against his made you realise that you couldn’t care less if this was one big prank or joke. It was happening and that’s all you cared about.

Even as he reluctantly pulled away, he chased your lips with several shorter kisses before separating entirely. He rested his forehead against yours, his guard completely down now as he admired your swollen lips and heaving chest. The feeling of your fingers in his hair made it nearly impossible for him to keep his lips detached from yours, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that.”

Your eyes searched his face for any sign that he was lying, when you found none you finally let yourself smile. A similar smile formed on George’s face, “I meant what I said earlier. I really do think you’re annoyingly gorgeous,” the boy silently praised himself when you let out a cute giggle.

“You’re quite cute too. When you’re not running that massive mouth of yours,” you teased although you weren’t really joking, to your surprise George let out a bellowing laugh before placing a fluttering kiss against your lips.

When he pulled away again he looked around the hallway, as if he only now realised where he was. Luckily nobody was wandering the halls since curfew was fast approaching and the unwelcoming cold that occupied the hallways left little reason for students or staff to be out and about. George slid his hand into yours again, this time intertwining your fingers with his. He gave you a hopeful glance and asked, “Do you wanna go somewhere?”

You nodded your head and let him tug you into one of the abandoned astronomy classrooms on the upper floor of the castle, Filch rarely ever patrolled up there which is why George decided on it. As well as that, since the classroom, which had been out of use for a good few years, had been used for astronomy the ceiling was bewitched to reflect the night sky.

George hadn’t come to this particular class in a while but thinking on his feet he remembered the cupboard at the back of the classroom used to hold blankets, he remembered when the classroom had been in use during his first year, students would be all but freezing during the winter, so they’d stocked the classroom with blankets to be brought out during the colder months.

He made his way over to the cupboard and grinned happily when his hand landed on a rather large woollen blanket. The material was scratchy but it would do for what he needed it for. He grabbed one more blanket from the dusty press before he made his way back over to you.

George suppressed a chuckle as he watched you, your face completely turned up, watching the stars on the ceiling with awe in your eyes. He busied himself with laying the wool blanket out on the bare floor, the room was devoid of tables and chairs so he didn’t have to worry about finding a space. Once he was finished, he plopped down on the blanket and expectantly patted the empty space beside him, “Come on then, sit down,” he urged and you finally tore your eyes away from the charmed ceiling.

A small laugh left your lips when you settled yourself down beside him, he wasted no time in covering the pair of you in the second blanket. With an exaggerated sigh he laid back and waited for you to do the same, he turned on his side to face you when you did. In contrast to earlier, George had an air of nervousness about him as he deftly took your hand and began playing with your fingers, not meeting your eyes. “Just out of curiosity,” he began quietly, making eye contact with you now, “What exactly did Fred tell you?”

His question forced a somewhat smug smirk to crawl onto your lips and you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to tease him. You leaned up on your elbows and twisted slightly so you could look down at him, trying not to waste too much time admiring the view, you answered him, “Oh, nothing really. Your lovely twin just happened to mention that you had a very eventful potions class the other day…” you trailed off, biting back a smile as he groaned.

“Mhm and what was it that he said you smelled from the amortentia?” You poked his cheek and he closed his eyes, a tiny smile growing on his face despite his blushing cheeks. “Cloudberries…oh! And daisies, now, what was the other thing? Let me think-“ you pretended to ponder before George cut you off by pulling you down on him and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss much softer than any of the others.

“Summer breezes,” he whispered against your lips before connecting them again, “It smelled like you,” and with that his hand snaked to the nape of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his feelings into it, hoping it was enough. In all honesty, now that he’d felt what it was like to love you, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to pretending to hate you.

Once he pulled away you were completely breathless, however, George seemed to have more to say. “I don’t want us to go back to the way we were,” absentmindedly you brushed his hair out of his eyes, stroking the red strands soothingly as he continued to confide in you, his voice, face and body completely vulnerable to you. Something about him trusting you with his feelings reassured you that his intentions were pure and banished any notion you possessed of the whole thing being a joke, “I didn’t like it, acting like that but you were always so unbothered that I felt like I had keep one upping you,” he confessed.

“You always gave me this feeling in my stomach whenever you’d come over to the Burrow with your parents when we were little and I didn’t understand it. I just thought that it must’ve meant I didn’t like you…” George seemed to get lost in his own mind as he gazed at you regretfully, his fingers trailed the length of your spine sofly, “By the time I realised, we were both older and I suppose I just thought you couldn’t feel the same ‘cause I made you hate me,” you hummed in acknowledgment, your fingers still working his hair, keeping it out of his eyes that looked at you so intently that you could’ve drowned in them and died happy.

“But then the other night after dinner Angie slapped me upside the head and talked my ear off about how out of order I’d been—obviously I agree with her! You weren’t even talking to me but Neville was complimenting you and I don’t know… just got possessive,” he muttered the last part, losing some confidence but regained it upon seeing the little smile on your lips. “Then Ron looked about ready to push me off the astronomy tower when I saw him this evening. Blimey, I knew it had to have something to do with you since Harry was snippy too.” You had to laugh at the exhausted look on his face when he recalled your two best friends.

Mockingly, you gave him a stern look and clicked your tongue, “Well, perhaps if you weren’t so mean to me all of this could’ve been avoided,” George groaned once again, feeling guilty he pulled you even closer and buried his face in your neck.

“M’sorry,” you carded your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his head. Your lips against his head caused him to lift his face from the crook of your neck, “Forgive me?” He asked, a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ll think about it,” you teased, giggling at the offended look on his face. George let out a dissatisfied sigh, he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a toothy smile.

“Don’t worry, love. I plan on making it up to you.”

[ameliora-j]

happier than ever // hp x reader

words: 1.7k

warnings: breakup, talk of the war, angsty asf, i think that’s all but as always lmk loves! :)

a/n: based on happier than ever by billie eilish,, italics are flashback/song lyrics

a/n ii: i do NOT like nor do i promote billie eilish in any way at all. but the song is trending on tiktok and i thought it’d be a good fic idea

it was the biggest argument the two of you had ever had. the one that resulted in the end of your relationship. you regretted every single second of it. you knew that he was trying. that he just wanted to help. he was trying to make a better world for himself. for everyone. for you. for both of you. so you could have the future you always talked about.

but lately he wasn’t around. he had a lot of responsibilities, you understood that. but you were his girlfriend. and lately he wasn’t being much of a boyfriend. you tried to push it away when he called rain checks on your dates. or when he was late because it “slipped his mind.” or when, sometimes… he didn’t even show at all.

it was your final straw when he showed up three hours late for your anniversary dinner. it wasn’t even your true anniversary… that was two weeks ago. but he had missed that because he was at hagrid’s hut with ron and hermione. you pushed it off with a shrug and a small smile. no more than a “it’s okay harry, i promise. i know you have a lot on your plate right now,” as you kissed his cheek and retreated to your dorm for the night.

but that night… that night you just had so much pent up anger. you were sick of it, truthfully. and you flipped out. “why’re you so dressed up, love?” the question would usually have made your heart sink. but by now you were used to it. now you just scoffed. you were numb to the hurt of him forgetting.

“had an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend. but it seems like he forgot… again,” you spoke plainly.

“darling i’m so sorry you have to believe me,” he implored.

“it’s fine harry. really,” you shrugged as you blinked back your angry tears.

“we can… we can reschedule. tomorrow i promise,” he bit his lip hopefully.

“no. it’s fine,” you shrugged.

“okay. if tomorrow doesn’t work, we can try next week maybe?” he tried again. you shook your head again. “okay well if not next week then i’m not sure. i’ve got army meetings and ron, mione, and i have plans with hagrid. plus we’ve got the end of years coming up so i have to study. when do you want to reschedule for?”

“i don’t harry,” you answered, finally letting the dam break. two tears fell slowly down your cheeks. “i don’t want to reschedule. or try a different day because there won’t be one. it’ll just be the same thing all over again. you’ll be late. if you even care to remember that we have a date at all,” you spat bitterly.

“yn, i’m trying,” harry quickly became defensive at the venom spitting from your tongue. “i’m doing my best really, can’t you see that? i’m trying to save the world here, you’re not making it easy by being so clingy,” he spat ruthlessly.

“then let me make it easier on you, harry. you never have to worry about me again,” you offered a sad smile as you turned and began to walk away.

“you’re breaking up with me?” the sea-eyed boy was dumbfounded.

“yeah. i’m making saving the world easier on you. you won’t have to worry about a clingy girlfriend anymore. go do what you need to do and save the world harry,” you told him. “too bad you couldn’t save your relationship as well,” you sniffled as you retreated to your dorm.

it hurt you to leave harry. but you both needed it. two years of dating and an even longer relationship… and it just all went to shit. it exploded right before your eyes.

you spent the following weeks buried under your covers. sobbing your little heart out, when you weren’t in class. you knew what would come of breaking up with hogwarts’ golden boy and the savior of the world. the dirty looks. the whispers. however, what you didn’t expect… was for the whole wizarding world to hear about it.

what you didn’t expect was for the front page of the daily prophet to read in big, bold lettering: “THE BOY WHO LIVED: HEARTBROKEN.” you read through the article by rita skeeter and you were fuming. she had called you “cold” and “heartless.” and much, much nastier words that you couldn’t even repeat, all of which were completely untrue.

harry had made you out to be the bad guy, of course. the golden boy could never do anything wrong. you scoffed as you picked up the paper and stormed your way to the great hall. all conversation at the gryffindor had died down as their eyes locked on you, storming over to harry. “you LIAR!” you screamed as you roughly shoved his chest, throwing the paper down in front of him.

he raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the article. “i see no lies here,” he shrugged, causing ron, ginny, and hermione to stifle a laugh. you rolled your eyes at this. “you’re nothing but a cold. heartless. bitch,” he spat ruthlessly.

“as if! harry that’s you! you’re cold and you’re heartless! you don’t care about anyone but yourself, oh chosen one,” you spit right back.

“cold and heartless when i’m saving the world?” he raised an eyebrow as he scoffed.

“please cut your little bullshit ‘i the chosen one am saving the world’ ploy. it’s nothing but bullshit! neville could save the world just as well as you can,” you shook your head. “you’re nothing without your title harry. absolutely nothing,” you growled. you saw red. nothing but red. you were positively pissed. anger was the only thought processing in your brain. “you’re an entitled brat harry. who never sees himself in the wrong even when you break hearts.”

“then i guess we’re one in the same, aren’t we, yn?” he snarked.

“oh please. you wish harry. i don’t relate to you. i could never relate to you. cus i would’ve never treated me as shitty as you did,” you shook your head as you spoke. crossing your arms defensively as you prepared to tell the chosen one all about himself.

“i treated you so shitty and yet, i still work my ass off to continue to save your life along with everyone else on the planet. right,” he scoffed.

“cut your bullshit harry. stop with the savior of the world shit. you scared me half to death with all of the dangerous shit you did. you stick your neck out and swim oceans for people who wouldn’t even step over a fucking puddle for you! you think these people care about you? they don’t! you’re a pawn in their little war. that’s all you’ll ever be!” you scoffed again. “i don’t even know why i’m wasting my breath. you only ever listen to your fucking ‘friends’ anyway,” you put air quotes around the word as you forced yourself to keep your tears at bay.

“so what if i’m a pawn! i’m helping! you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter you’re entire life! you’d never know what this life feels like!” he shouted back.

“that’s your problem harry! you never see anyone’s problems but your own! you weren’t even aware of the fact that you made me miserable! for weeks you made me miserable. i couldn’t even tell if i still had a boyfriend or not!” you harshly rubbed your nose on the sleeve of your robe. “i wish it wasn’t true, but now that i’m away from you, i’m somehow happier. at least i know you don’t love me anymore instead of having to wonder every night,” you shook your head.

“we’re done yn! you made that very clear when you left me after forgetting one date! why do you care so much!” he yelled.

“because it wasn’t one date harry it was multiple! hogwarts was my home harry! and you made me hate this school!” you shouted.

“so what?! we’re over yn, i’m moving on and handling it in my own way! you should too!” his face was red and the vein in his neck was protruding. all eyes in the great hall—including those of the professors’—were on the two of you.

“no! cus i don’t talk shit about you all over the daily prophet or in school for that matter! i’ve never said anything bad about you!” you yelled at him.

“well why not? apparently you have every right to since i was such a horrible boyfriend for trying to make a better world for the two of us to have a future in,” he scoffed.

you rolled your eyes and decided upon not wasting your breath at his use of that defense yet again. “cause that shit’s embarrassing harry! you were my everything and all you ever did was make me fucking sad!” you rubbed at your nose again, nearly positive that the tip of it was now rubbed raw.

“i’m sorry that you feel like i was so terrible to you. i’m sorry that i couldn’t save our relationship like i saved the world like you said,” he shook his head.

“oh don’t try to make me feel bad harry! i have a whole laundry list of good and bad things about you. but at some point the good stopped outweighing the bad,” by now the inevitable had happened and tears had begun to spill slowly over your lash line.

“really? cus it sounds like you have nothing but bad things to say,” he snarked with a small scoff.

“i mean i could list all the times you showed up on time, but it’d be empty because you never did. you ruined everything good in my life, harry. and you always say you’re so misunderstood but you’re not! you’re just a heartless, selfish, asshole!” you shoved his chest roughly. “just fucking leave me alone! and keep my name out of your mouth,” you rolled your waterlogged eyes as you walked away.

once you were in the safety of your dorm, you let it all out. you slid slowly down the closed door and pulled your knees to your chest, releasing all the sobs you held in during your screaming match. your heart broke for the second time in less than a month. you choked over sobs as your stomach twisted in pained knots, matching the feeling of your heart thumping behind your ribcage.

your everything was gone. but somehow… you were happier than ever without him.

[violetlilysunshine]

Be Careful

Harry Holland x Actress Reader

Requested

@harryhollandsgirlfriend: Ok, ok, a request for y/n and Harry being in a new relationship and the boys are all hesitant about it and worried y/n is there for the wrong reasons and just Harry defending you and how you all work through that. 🥺

WC: 1,505

Warnings: swearing (one f-bomb)

A/N: Kinda left it between the boys, hope that’s okay. Also first time using a taglist, so hopefully it goes well :)

MASTERLIST - TAGLIST

You’d met the brothers while they were sightseeing in Atlanta, instantly hitting it off with Harry. The two of you had been friendly for a while after that, casually flirting and always finding ways to get together. 

He’d asked you out a little while ago, taking you out secretly. He wasn’t ready to tell anybody, specifically Tom, yet; he didn’t know what they would think, given your history together. They were worried that you were just hanging around with them for the fame, knowing that you wanted to work your way up in Hollywood as well. Of course, it wasn’t really anything to do with you personally, they just felt that they had to be cautious of all new people who came around. 

Harry, however, knew that you were genuine. He had obviously gotten to know you the best and knew that you really cared more about people than fame. Sure you wanted to act, but you also valued privacy, just like he and Tom did. 

Harry met you for lunch a couple days ago, in between scenes just because he wanted to see you. You did little things like this as often as you could, while still keeping things quiet. It was kind of fun sneaking around with him; it made every little second you could steal together even better.

“So, uh, somethings sorta been on my mind,” he stuttered.

“What’s up, bub?” you asked.

“Well I want to tell Tom about us and like, I wanna make sure that’s okay with you.”

“Why are you asking me that, Har?” you chuckled.

“Well, we haven’t told people, so like, I wanna know if it’s okay if I do…”

“You’re the one that didn’t tell Tom,” you pointed out gently, “he’s your brother after all, it’s up to you.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation; you could tell that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I just want you to be comfortable,” you soothed him, “It doesn’t bother me if we tell him right now or not, whenever you’re ready.” 

“Well I think I want to tell him,” he said, “I wanna be able to have you over and cuddle on the couch and hold hands around him. Ya know, all the boyfriend stuff…” he trailed off.

“Okay, babe,” you said softly, before repeating, “whenever you’re ready.” 

You smiled gently at him, watching his lips curve up slowly. He was so ready to be open with you and couldn’t wait to get it off his chest. 

“Maybe I should tell him alone,” he added, “ya know, brother to brother…”

“Whatever you want,” you said, grabbing his hand gently under the table.

“I’ll have to tell Haz too, ya know, since he’s always around.”

“That’s fine - whoever you want, whenever you want. And, to be honest, I wanna be able to come over and do all of that too,” you comforted him. 

“Thanks, darling,” he whispered, squeezing your hand for a second before letting go and continuing to eat.

“And for the record, ya know, if we’re telling things…” you trailed.

Harry’s heartbeat quickened at that, “yes, darling?” he questioned, not knowing what could possibly be coming at him. 

“I have told someone,” you whispered.

“Oh,” he said shortly, eyes widening, “when? who?” 

“My best friend, before our first date… ya know, I just wanted to make someone aware of what was going on and who I was going out with and where I would be, ya know, in case something bad happened. Can’t be too careful these days.”

Harry chuckled at that, dropping his head and shaking it lightly.

“But she’s the only one, and she won’t say anything, promise. I mean, she hasn’t yet, so you can trust me when I say that,” you smiled. 

Harry smiled at you widely, “I do trust you,” he whispered, leaning in and pecking you gently.

~~~~~

He decided on Friday that he was going to tell Tom and Harrison about the two of you. Half of him casually wanted to drop it like, “oh yeah, I’m taking Y/N out tonight,” on his way out the door, but the other half of him knew that he just had to be straight up with them. 

They came in from the gym, dropping their bags right in front of the door, arguing about who gets to shower first. 

“You got it first last time!” Harrison shouted at Tom, kicking his shoes off.

“Well I got there before you, mate, not my fault,” Tom countered. 

They stood in the doorway, staring each other down for a second. 

“Not happening today,” Harrison said quietly, taking off running towards his bedroom to get his clothes and hurry to the shower.

Little did he know, Tom had already laid his clothes out on the bed so all he had to do was grab them and go to the bathroom.

The bathroom door slammed upstairs and Harry knew what was coming -

“GOD YOU ARSE!” Harrison screamed, followed by Tom’s loud laugh from behind the closed door.

Harrison came jogging down the stairs and into the living room, “god can you believe that guy?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry chuckled, “brothers…” 

Harrison just laughed at him, pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram while waiting for the shower. Maybe starting with just Harrison would be easier…

“So, Haz?” Harry asked after a while of just sitting in silence. He was trying to sound casual, but inside he was shitting himself.

“Hmm?” Harrison hummed, not looking up from his phone. 

“I uh, I’m taking Y/N out tonight…”

“Yeah? What’re you guys doing? Maybe Tom and I can tag along.” Harrison questioned.

“No, mate, not like that, I’m dating her,” Harry said bluntly, “have been for a few weeks.” 

Harrison didn’t know how to react; he wanted his friend to be happy, but at the same time he worried about you using him. What if you got what you wanted and then just left? And broke Harry’s heart in the process? He can’t let that happen. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this? What if she’s using you?” Harrison tried to ask nicely. 

“Who’s using him?” Tom asked, strolling in the room, hair still dripping wet. 

“Y/N,” Harrison answered, “they’re ‘dating’ now,” Harrison said, using air-quotes around the word dating. 

“She’s not like that you fucking arse,” Harry answered, starting to get mad, “I knew you guys would be like this and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” 

“How long?” Tom asked quickly.

“A few weeks,” Harry answered with a huff.

“Oh, so it’s still easy to get out,” Tom said casually with a shrug.

“I don’t wanna get out!” Harry yelled, “I really like her! She’s not what you guys think she is!”

“Mate, calm down,” Harrison tried.

“No! I tried to be calm and you had to go and be a dick!” 

“Hellooooo!” Tuwaine sang as he walked through the front door.

“Hey mate, Harry’s dating Y/N,” Tom answered him.

“What?” Tuwaine laughed.

“Harry’s dating Y/N,” he repeated.

“Yay, she’s cool!”

“What? You’re on his side?” Harrison questioned.

“Yeah, why not?” Tuwaine shrugged, “I just want everyone to be happy. If Harry trusts her, then so do I.” 

“Thank you,” Harry said, calming down a bit.

“But what if she’s using him?” Harrison reiterated, bringing up his first concern, “or what if she’s just using Harry to get to Tom and then use him? Or the same with me?” 

“Yeah, bro, I’m Spider-Man,” Tom added.

“Yeah, we all know that,” Harry answered, “you don’t have to remind us every second of every day.”

“But still, how do you know she’s not gonna split when she gets popular?” Tom asked.

“Because you guys didn’t take the time to actually get to know her,” Harry stressed, “she’s been hanging out with us for quite a while and she hasn’t posted a single picture of either of you, or me for that matter.” 

The boys fell silent, that was true and they couldn’t deny it. 

“And she’s always paid the most attention to me, so don’t you think if she really wanted to use you guys, she’d have ignored me?” 

“I guess that makes sense…” Tom mumbled.

“Can’t you just be happy for me?” Harry pleaded, “like Tuwaine said: I trust her, isn’t that enough?” 

“We just don’t wanna see you get hurt, mate. Honest, if you’re happy, we’re happy,” Harrison answered, “we just want you to be careful.” 

“Well I am being careful, so you don’t have to worry. She’s great, I’d love for you guys to give her a chance,” Harry soothed. 

“We will, just know that we’re watching her too. At least for a little while,” Tom said, raising his eyebrows at Harry. 

“That’s fine, I guess,” Harry said, “just don’t weird her out so she runs away, please.” 

“No promises,” Harrison piped up. 

“I’m just happy for everyone,” Tuwaine said with a big smile from the couch, making everyone laugh.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” Harry said, fist-bumping Tuwaine.

Taglist:  @xamourx @spider-barnes @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @bvttercupbby

[halstudandruz]

Research Purposes ~ Part 3

*Gif: Not mine; credit to @thompsonconnors

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader/ Adam Ruzek x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happened after Adam catches you and Jay? Part 1 (18+) here /// Part 2 here

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I used some dialogue from S6E10, but the rest of the episode doesn’t pertain

A/N 2: Wouldn’t you all be pissed if I ended up putting the reader with Ruzek 😂

You and Jay were on his couch silently eating pizza and watching Hulu. Not having said very many words to each other in the last two hours.

“I didn’t want him to find out that way.” You eventually broke the silence. Jay reached for the remote pausing the show to turn and face you as you sat up away from where you were cuddled into his side. “I mean I wasn’t ecstatic about him sleeping with Hailey, but if he would’ve just told me and been upfront about it I think I could’ve handled it better.” You admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have slept with me in other words?” He joked making you chuckle.

“Oh I still would’ve done that.” You smiled.

“I think he just didn’t want to hurt you. You know Adam. That would have never been his intention.” Jay replied.

“Well no I don’t think he did it on purpose, but I just turned around and did the same thing to him. What if he thinks it was out of spite?” You sighed.

“You don’t have any obligations to each other any more, [Y/N].” Jay shook his head.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, and it’s hard for me to explain to be honest. You have to remember we were engaged. It wasn’t some fling. Our relationship was serious. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to have a family with him, and when it ended it hurt like hell. I know I don’t have any obligation to him, but in order to see him everyday. Work with him everyday. There has to be a different kind of respect, a different kind of… regard for each other than we have with everyone else or it won’t work.” You tried to explain.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him about us?” Jay finally asked.

“Because I don’t even know what’s going on here.” You laughed, “I mean are we just fucking? Cause if that’s the case we should be doing a lot more of it.” You pointed out, reminding him how more and more nights have ended in just a cuddle session in his bed.

“You know I’m not good with emotions and saying how I feel, [Y/N].” He sighed, “I honestly didn’t expect for this to happen. One night of fun turned into wanting you here every night. Ya know? Regardless of whether it ended in us sleeping together or you just... in my arms.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Jay, if they go up in flames and Hailey comes running to you where does that leave me?” You eventually asked the question that had been pegging you for the last few weeks.

“You know that’s not fair to ask me when I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“You don’t think I know that?” You questioned, head falling into your hands, “I don’t know, Jay. Okay? I-I don’t know!”

“What are you saying?” He pushed.

“I’m saying maybe it shouldn’t be this hard.” You shook your head, emotions running through you, tense silence falling between you two again. “I’m really tired.” You admitted, leaning your head against the back of the couch.

“Alright come on let’s go to bed.” He stood up turning the tv off and moving to clean your plates up.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” You asked, biting at your lip and he turned to give you an incredulous look.

“Why would you think I would want that? You know I sleep better with you beside me.” He replied making you smile, body feeling just a little bit lighter.

“Yeah me too.” You agreed, helping him clean a little before going through your bedtime routines comfortably. Sliding naturally into his body once you laid down.

“Goodnight, baby.” Jay whispered into your hair laying a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight.” You said, returning a light kiss onto his chest, nuzzling further into his arms.

“Come on [Y/N] you gotta get up.” Jay tried to wake you with soft kisses across your neck and shoulder. Groaning you didn’t move, “I promise I let you sleep as long as possible.”

“Can we just get my car registered for a spot already?” You whined.

“You’re the one that said that was and I quote “testing our luck and a waste of money.”” He teased.

“I will give my life savings for ten more minutes of sleep.” You replied, sinking further back into Jay’s warm chest.

“No, no, no!” He lectured rolling away from you.

“Ugh, fine.” You grumbled pulling yourself out of his bed turning to see him lying in only his boxers, “Are you trying to provoke me?” You gestured to his body causing him to chuckle.

“If I wanted to provoke you I could do a hell of a lot better than this.” He smirked, “Plus I already got my own shower this morning so no go.” He shooed you away getting up to riffle through his dresser. Rolling your eyes you trudged to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The ride to the district was filled with a comfortable silence, the tension from the night before gone. He put his truck in park after pulling up behind your car.

“Just so you know I’m gonna stay at my place tonight.” You informed him, reaching for the door handle.

“What? Why?” He practically whined, but a nervous tone seeped in as well.

“Because I see you all day everyday and I would like to binge a carton of ice cream without your judging eyes on me the entire time.” You joked.

“I do not judge you.” He defended.

“Uh huh of course not babe. See you in a few.” You leaned over to give him a quick kiss before climbing out of the truck.

When you got to the district Trudy whistled to you summoning you over. You stood in front of it, hands clasped together on her desk. “Goodmorning.” You stated cautiously.

“Wanna tell me why rebel without a cause looks like someone pissed in his coffee this morning?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“No, I do not.” You replied.

“Well then just a friendly warning to step cautiously today.” She looked back down at her desk nodding her head towards the steps.

“Yeah..thanks Sarge.” You sighed moving to buzz in. You could feel the edginess when you entered the bullpen, but you couldn’t tell who else had noticed it. “Goodmorning.” You mumbled passing everyone on the way to your desk. Luckily everyone was able to work normally despite the obvious agitation in Adam’s demeanor, but per Platt’s advice you stayed out of his way as much as possible.

“Alright so we do it the old-fashioned way. Farm it off. Every beat cop and CTA worker, get every gang and tact unit across the city. If someone knows this guy, that picture’s gonna be enough to spark it. Ruzek, you run it past Mark.” Hank ordered before moving back into his office. Everyone nodded moving towards Jay’s desk to make plans. Adam moved off on his own and out of the corner of your eye you watched Hailey follow behind him. Sighing you looked back to Kevin making mental notes of the plan he was laying out to Jay.

“Alright let’s roll.” Kevin shrugged on his jacket when you heard yelling in the distance. The three of you exchanged confused glances before you easily picked up Adam’s voice.

“It’s Adam and Hailey. They’re downstairs.” You informed the two men, detouring your route to hurrying down the steps, their voices only getting louder as you made your way towards them.

“I’m not gonna talk about policing with you again!” Adam’s distinct voice carried.

“I care about you, I care about you and I-“ Hailey fought back, stopping to turn when she noticed the three of you enter the room.

“We can hear you guys in the stairwell. What the hell are you doing?” Jay asked, looking between the two. Hailey looking guilty and Adam standing at defense, restlessness clear in his frame, from more than just the conversation you were guessing.

“Nothing. It’s fine. Sorry.” Hailey cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“You cannot be having this conversation here. It’s not the time or place.” Jay warned, glancing back up the steps.

“Oh but it’s a perfectly fine place for you to stick your tongue down [Y/N]’s throat?” Adam bit back and you watched Hailey’s eyes go wide flicking between all of you.

“What?” She asked and the look in her eyes at the information pinged a feeling of jealousy deep in your stomach.

“Oh yeah you didn’t know?” Adam took a step towards Jay, anger radiating off of him.

“Watch yourself. Who do you think you're talking to?” Jay straightened his body, jaw clenched.

“I’m not scared of you, Halstead. I’m not some rookie straight out of the academy anymore.” Adam pointed out.

“All of you, cool it.” Kevin whispered harshly stepping between the two men, ”unless you want Voight to find out whatever is going on here I suggest you all get back to what you were supposed to be doing.” He ordered. Adam threw you a cold glare before maneuvering around Kevin and heading up the stairs.

“We’re supposed to be out securing an ID.” Jay grumbled stalking out of the door, Hailey following behind slowly.

“To be a fly on the wall in that car.” Kevin winced looking back to you.

“Yeah.” You laughed dryly. Starting to walk towards the parking lot.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” He tried to reassure you once he slipped into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Kevin knew more of what was going on then anybody else did. You and him had been partners in crime since your first day at the district and even before that in the academy. Your partnership was comfortable and he knew you better than most people. You had each other’s backs always, and even though he was best friends with Adam, who had without a doubt been chirping in his ear about his discovery the night prior, Kevin always remained neutral. So, you knew he would lay it straight for you. He found out about you and Jay the Monday after it had happened. You were pretty good at hiding stuff, but not with him. He could read you like a book.

“This is such a fucking mess.” You huffed watching out the window.

“Well I’m certainly not going to tell you you’re wrong there.” He agreed blatantly, “You should’ve been more careful.”

“You don’t think I know that, Kev? But it’s done now. He knows and I have to find a way to deal with it. I don’t even understand why he’s so mad. He’s doing the same thing with her, and I didn’t act like a jealous teenager when I found out. What he just did was unnecessary.” You sighed heavily knowing that there was more to the story. “I know he’s going through more than just this. I can tell this case is getting to him and he’s struggling and honestly it kills me that I can’t be there for him. It kills me every time I can’t help him through it. I miss him and what we had, but maybe it is for the best. But.. I don’t fucking know! How am I supposed to know?” You slammed a fist against the dashboard and Kevin didn’t even flinch. Adam was impulsive and had a short fuse, but what had happened a few minutes prior was not something Adam would do on a normal day.

“So, what are going to do about it?” Kevin asked looking over at you expectantly, but all that came was silence. You didn’t know. Did Adam still want to be with you? Was that why he was so angry or was it just a lingering reaction? If he was jealous, if this thing between you the two of you was still a possibility then what? Plus Hailey knew now. What if that pushed her in a direction you didn’t want her to go? Maybe it opened her eyes. Maybe she was confessing her feelings to Jay right now in his truck and that scared you. An uncomfortable selfish feeling radiated through your body at the thought. The unknown was starting to terrify you. The possibilities, the factors, all of it was too much and you weren’t sure how it was going to play out.

You had finished the case getting out of the district at a decent time that day. Which you were glad for. The room was starting to feel too small. You needed space to breathe and room to think. Which is exactly what you did. For hours until you came to a conclusion. You loved both of them, but in the end you knew who you wanted, who you needed.

You couldn’t keep dragging them around like this. Dragging yourself around like this. You were going to figure it out and you were going to face it head on. Walking up to his door your heart was racing. You had already made up your mind, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared to actually face it. Taking a deep breath your knuckles lightly rapped the door. How were you supposed to tell someone you loved you didn’t want to be with them? Shifting on your feet you couldn’t help, but chew on your lip, anxiety only heightening when the door swung open.

“We need to talk.”

All Taglist:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3 @wanniiieeee

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda @sofferderynnp

Taglist for series: @miranda0102 @5sos-imagine @5hundreddaysofsummer @a-f-f-a-n-c-u-l-o

[blakelywintersfield]

Minors

Okay so, I originally wrote this in response to this post (my friend's reblog is linked instead of the original because OP either deleted it from their blog I guess?), but I feel like this constitutes as its own post.

I know this may sound like an overbearing parent "don't trust strangers on the internet" talk, but like. I don't think a lot of you understand just how quickly a situation can escalate; it's scary. I mean that not in a condescending "you think you're untouchable you stupid little child, you don't really know what the world is like" way either, but as in, I don't think internet safety is being taught realistically, so those things you're told to watch out for are far-fetched or already seem suspect.

Predators don't work the way TV shows joke that they do -- most predators aren't going to try and message you at random posing as a teenage girl and attempt to strike up a friendship. A lot interact in community spaces like tumblr, where some level of anonymity is allowed, and it's not odd for there to be people of both minor and adult ages. They interact with a variety of people -- not just targets. They will have full-fledged social circles. Their blogs and social interactions will look like literally any other person's on here.

Then, of the different blogs they follow, they end up interacting a lot with a certain user. Maybe the kind of humor clicks, or similar opinions, or interests. Nothing out of the ordinary; that's how people make friends. Maybe then they start by sending an ask, or a message, or whatever, and that continues for a bit until you two are kind of acclimated to one another, and then, as far as everyone is concerned, it's just a new friend! Neat! That's how you make friends on the internet. They most likely did this with their other friends on tumblr. Nothing weird. In this hypothetical, the minor party has their full name and city public.

But then this person you make friends with -- the way you would any other person on this website -- turns out to be 10+ years your senior. Which like. Honestly, you don't have to cut them out of your life and block them immediately, but you inform them you're 10 years younger than them. A responsible adult would respond to that knowledge with anything from the range of "oh holy shit you're baby uhh I feel a little weird interacting with you so personally" to "oh goodness you are a youngling I will now enter caregiver/parent-like mode". And there will be an established tone from there of "we may still interact but there is going to always be a set emotional distance". It'll have a different dynamic/feeling to the friendships you have with people your age. And it should. Both parties can still care about each other! But this isn't someone you would like. Hang out one on one with. You wouldn't hang out with your mom's friend one on one, or at your teacher's home alone. That'd be weird, right? That should be the same kind of vibe you get with any adult "friendship" you make online (I put friendship in quotes because I feel like... there's a better term for it, or should be one that establishes that adult/minor relationship, but if there is I can't for the life of me remember it).

But maybe that person doesn't go down that path. Maybe it comes off that way at first, but there's a subtle level of emotional manipulation that is subtle enough that you're not certain you can accuse them of being manipulative. "Oh wow, you're so much younger than me... do you still want to talk to me / be friends / etc.? I can leave you alone now if you want." Warning sign #1: they are pressuring you to make the decision; they are placing responsibility on you. And it might feel a little mean to just drop communication all of a sudden because of age -- you got along fine before. Why should that change anything? That's a rational thought process, but it's also the one that benefits them too.

So hypothetically, you say "no it's okay, we can still talk. we were talking just fine before we found out each other's ages so why should that change?" And then maybe the conversation continues normally from there. But then they continue interacting with you as your peers would. You guys talk about stuff that's been stressing you or your problems, just like you would with your peers. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Warning sign #2: That form of emotional connection isn't normal with an adult/minor relationship. I have minors that follow me. They have talked to me about their problems, and I've offered advice and wisdom; I don't condemn that because, well. As adults, we should help guide the younger if asked. But when it comes to my troubles, I limit how much I discuss with them. I don't bring them up myself (it's often brought up by the other party because I'll post about it on here, like a vent post or whatever). And while I don't brush them off with a short "don't worry about it", I make it clear -- I appreciate that you care enough to make sure I'm okay (because their sympathy / care is just as valuable as an adult's), but even if I'm not okay, the burdens and problems surrounding my troubles will be dealt with by me. I don't ask them for advice. I don't goad them for sympathetic words. And it's not that I believe they couldn't give good advice, or their sympathy means less, but an adult should not be relying on a minor for those levels of emotional labor. That established emotional connection where both parties exchange advice and comfort is how predators manipulate their victims because it's subtle and seemingly harmless, and difficult to paint them as a bad person when you have that level of emotional trust.

And once that emotional connection is established, that's when things can escalate, and get scary, quickly.

One day while talking they will probably bring it up -- the way one of your peers would. Something along the lines of "hey can I tell you something?" or "there's something I want to tell you but I'm afraid you won't want to talk to me anymore if I do" etc. etc.; with that peer/peer dynamic, that'll make you anxious, sure. You'd probably get anxious if they were your own age and said that too. So then, it comes out in some form that "I like you, but like... as more than a friend" or "I think you're really cute; I have for a bit now actually" or something similar. Obviously then it's uncomfortable.

But then you realize -- this is an adult. This is someone who has access to transportation. This is someone that doesn't have to report to someone (i.e. a minor can't just say "I'm going out of town for a week bye!" like your parents would, or SHOULD, be like "uh okay where are you going, who are you going to be with, why, etc. etc. etc."). And they know your full name and a general idea of where you live. You could just block them then and there and remove that information from your blog. But what if they already saved it? What if they already used one of those websites where you can look up a person's address by name for $5? What if they already know where you live, and they had planned on asking to meet up? They might know where you live. And you can't confirm or deny that they know. You can't say for sure if you removed that information before they saved it and used it for that purpose. Suddenly, there's the very real possibility that a pedophile that admitted to being attracted to you knows where you live.

Then what do you do? You should tell your parents or a trusted authority figure. But you're also a teenager and there's the likelihood that your parents might brush it off, or get angry with you, and you might get your internet taken away, etc., which is stressful because that takes away a major social area. To build upon the anxiety with that, there's the risk of unknowing if this person does know where you live, and if they do, if they are just unstable enough to do something drastic, like, y'know. Kidnap you. Because they know where you live. And they may know your school schedule too. And if your parents or trusted authority figure doesn't know about this situation, you may end up a missing child never found at worst, or found with far more trauma (5 years of life being kidnapped as opposed to a few months) that could've been avoided had someone known the situation.

But to 100% ensure your safety, it would have to be reported to the police. Because your parents can't do anything about the fact that a pedophile on the internet might know where you live. They can't confirm or deny that they know, and if they did, there's not much they can do other than keep an eye out for someone that looks out of the ordinary. But if they're most likely not home at the same time you are all the time. So, having the police involved ensures your safety -- if you open a case. You can report it to the police, and they'll ask: do you want to press charges (because it could be considered a form of child endangerment). If you say no, then that guarantees if you are kidnapped, that person would be the first they'd look to as a suspect. But to avoid that kidnapping risk at all, you'd have to say yes. And you're a kid that's now having to get involved in court just to avoid any risk to your safety because a pedophile may or may not have your address and may or may not be someone that would abduct their target, and so even if they didn't have your address and wouldn't kidnap you, you are now in a legal situation, which is. extremely. stressful. As someone's who's dealt with the court system a lot it's stressful no matter what.

And sure, you could omit the last step. But then you'll have that looming anxiety for as long as you're a minor that there is a possibility this person may show up at your house at some point. And that anxiety is fucking torture. I know it firsthand, I know all of this up to the legal portion firsthand, because this is exactly how I got tangled up with a pedophile in high school. That anxiety can make you paranoid. It impacts your sleep, which impacts your emotional tolerance and your concentration. It looms and there's nothing you can do to get rid of it other than convince yourself "they probably don't have my address; they probably won't find me". And that logic becomes sounder as time passes. But it requires time to pass, and in the meantime, you sit in constant suffering suspense.

It's just not fucking worth it, okay? You might think "this would never happen to me" but like. I was the fat emo weirdo in high school, literally considered attractive by no one and told so by peers and I still had it happen to me. So don't think "I'm not appealing enough" or whatever. Put self-esteem issues aside here, because to them, you're underage and at a power dynamic disadvantage not just physically, but most likely emotionally too. They care that you're a certain (under)age and can be manipulated into sexual acts. They will target you no matter how ugly you think you are or how unattractive your peers have convinced you.

So please. As an adult, that went through this situation (and could've had it turn out a lot worse tbh) -- do not disclose your real name (especially last names), location more specific than country, phone number, or school publicly online or to anyone you cannot 100% trust. I practice half of these in adulthood just to err on the side of caution since a full name and phone number alone could be used to find my address, and there are some preeeeetty unstable people out there. As a minor, absolutely no one needs any information unless you plan on meeting them in person, which should only be done after you've gotten to know them extremely well and both parties' parents know and are involved. It doesn't need to be on your public profile, and it shouldn't be on your public profile. I want your social media experience to be as enjoyable as possible, I don't want you feeling like you have to constantly keep an eye out for predators. But to keep yourself as safe as possible, don't purposefully make that information public. It's simple, but it’ll help you avoid so much potential stress.

Please stay safe.