Beautiful-Peter Parker

Ta-Dah, Omg I loved writing this one, it was too much fun. It’s so fluffy, or at least I hope it’s fluffy. And I’ve posted two fics within a weeks, I’m so proud of myself. 

Request- ‘Peter Takes a break from fighting crime to attend reader’s cousin’s wedding; he’s nervous but it can be as fluffy as you want’ @cantshakethenoiseinsidemybones

Requests always open



Spontaneous visits from your cousin weren’t an un-common occurrence, however this time her visit wasn’t just to discuss life over a cup of coffee-she could only do this with you, she claims nowhere could beat your coffee. But it was to discuss something quite important, very important actually. You opened the door to see her brilliant bright smile looking back at you, accompanied by a loud squeal of excitement.

“Ahhhhh!” she screamed as she hooped into your family’s apartment-your parents were out, so screaming was allowed, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” she said roaring your name louder each time she chanted it still bouncing up and down.

“What is it?” you said, looking a bit confused as your cousin, Amy, began danced into the living room with you following closely behind. She thrusted her left hand out towards you. An oversized diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds lay on silver band around her thin ring finger. Now you understood why she was squealing earlier and you couldn’t help but join in. Dancing around in circles, singing the first pop song that popped into your heads and squealing loudly ever chance you got.

“It’s Kevin your marrying, right? Just so we’re clear” you quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Yes! You dumbass” She smirked at you, “I’ve been dating him for 2 years”

“Well you’re lucky I like him, or we could have some problems”

She began to giggle, “Don’t be stupid he is amazing, I love him and you will too”

“I better, or the wedding is off”

“You know he’s great you’ve meet him”

“I know, I know, I’m just teasing”

She shook her head at you, “Since we are on the topic of love, how is your boyfriend? Patrick? Oh, Oh, I know Pablo? Right? It’s definitely Pablo” she beamed a convincing smile at you and began to nod almost convincing you his name was Pablo.

“Peter!” you rolled your eyes at her, “he’s great, we’re great”

“How long have you been together now?” she had settled down now, and you were both sitting adjacent on your parent’s couch.

“5 months nearly” you stood up and headed towards the kitchen already preparing the inevitable cup of coffee she was going to ask for.

“oh impressive, he should be your date for my wedding” she said winking your way, “Coffee please?”

“Already on it” You said, beginning to pour the brewed coffee into the cups and heading back to the couches, passing the steaming mug over to her. “I’m not even sure that we will last that long”

“The way that you speak about him I’m sure you will. I would absolutely love if he came to my wedding, I would finally get to meet your Romeo" she said, causing you to blush which you promptly concealed with a groan, accompanied with an eye roll. As much as you would love to go to the wedding with Peter he was too awkward and so were you. Plus, relatives live to see pda, it helps to fuel the gossip that constantly circulates and neither of you could deal with that.

“Oh, and you would look gorgeous in your bridesmaid dress, he has to see you in that” she smirked at your confused face, “Did I mention you were going to be one of my bridesmaid?”

“I am!” you squealed almost spilling your coffee on the both of you.

“You are” and the two of you began dancing around again, squealing loudly.

“You’re going to be beautiful” she squealed at you, “And he’s going to fall in love with you”

“You’re going to look more beautiful, walking down the aisle in your white gown” you twirled around the couches, “And he’s going to cry because you’re the love of his life” Once again you squealed grabbing each other’s hands and spun around jumping together. Just like a cliched scene in a movie.

Her Wedding was going to be amazing and with you as one of her bridesmaids it was going to be spectacular.


It was two weeks to the wedding, Amy was right you were still dating Peter, and you couldn’t wait to go to the wedding together. The only problem was you still hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask Peter to be your date yet, as much as he loved to go dates with you this was different. It was a wedding, it would be super romantic and Peter has not formally meet your parents or any other relative and he’s not exactly the best equipped for conversations.

As usual you went over to Peter’s to ‘study’, it never did involve studying. You had decided that you were finally going to ask him about the wedding and Throughout the school day you had slowly convinced yourself to do it whilst you ‘studied’.  Now you were awkwardly playing with a loose thread on your jumper in an attempt at building your confidence, it wasn’t working. Peter began to pull out an assortment of books which he stacked high with papers wildly sticking out.

“Ready to study? I actually mean it this time, no distractions Y/N I have a test coming up” he said, as he rummaged further in his chaotic backpack.

“Y/N, Y/N hey what’s wrong?” he looked up at you concerned, now with worry in his eye

“Nothing, I’m fine Peter I was just thinking…” you trailed off, Peter’s intense gaze intimidating you.

“What? What is it?” he began searching your face for signs of what you were talking about, “Are you breaking up with me?” Panic now spreading across his face.

“Oh God no you idiot, I would never” you grabbed his hands to reassure him.

“well, what is it then?”

“My cousin, Amy, do you remember me talking about her?” he responded with a ‘mmm’, and you continued reassured by his hand squeezing yours gently, “She’s getting married in two weeks, I’m one of the bridesmaids and she really wants me to bring you with me. But I know it’s a big deal, and if you don’t want to go it’s…” you trailed off once again doubting yourself. You had been dating Peter for over a year and you cared for him but, you knew this means a lot.

“Don’t Panic” he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ll go with you baby don’t worry, I’ll go”

“If you can’t it’s fine, with all your responsibilities and if you don’t feel ready I understand, I can go by myself” you said nodding towards him.

“Baby, Spider-man can wait a day whilst I go to a wedding with you, you’re important to me too” he smiled softly at you, and it was set, you were going with Peter to Amy’s wedding.

You blushed at his compliment, “Alright as long as you’re okay with it”

“I’m more than okay with it” he beamed and returned his eyes to the books in front of him, starting to study.


The wedding was grand, it was set to take place in a hotel on water. Amy had secretly been planning the greatest wedding of all time, she had a feeling that Kevin was going to propose. The location was perfect, the decorations were flawless and Amy’s dress couldn’t be more beautiful if she tried. The same could be said for yours, it was long and flowy, a deep blue colour the same as Amy’s eyes- she claims- regardless the dress is beautiful and you looked even more beautiful in it.

The ceremony was set to take place any minute now, Peter had secured himself a seat awkwardly beside your parents and everyone was awaiting Amy’s arrival in her white gown. You fixed a curl behind your ear trying to pour more confidence into yourself, hoping that the longer you stared into your own eyes you would be able to stride down that aisle. Everyone would be watching, it wasn’t even your wedding but you were still far too anxious. Amy appeared behind you holding your shoulders,

“You look beautiful, maybe even more than me” She smiled, her cheeks straining to contain her happiness. You looked down shyly, redness rising in your cheeks- you were not convinced. You still felt silly in such a beautiful dress but not yet beautiful yourself,

She continued to gaze at you lovingly, “Aww come on, Peter would think otherwise” It’s like she was reading your thoughts.

“Alright, let’s go before I actually hold up your wedding” you say letting out a deep breath.

The procession began, the two young flower girls- daughters of one of Amy’s many friends -heading down first, dusting the aisle with white and blue petals. Then it was you, anxiety built up inside your stomach but you walked anyway, clinging onto the bouquet for dear life listening to the sound of your heels softly hitting the wooden floor. Then his brown eyes meet yours and your heart almost feel out your chest. His mouth was open, gazing at you as you tried not to stumble down the aisle.

You sat down in the soft seats and glanced back around at Peter sitting rows behind you still gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world.

‘Stop staring’ you mouthed to him.

‘I can’t, you’re too beautiful’ you blushed a bright pink, not being able to handle how much you love this boy. You just haven’t told him yet.

‘I’ll wait for you after the ceremony’ you winked at him, suddenly gaining more confidence.

‘I’ll see you then beautiful’


The prolonged ceremony seemed to take for years, you only wanted to talk to Peter. Finally, the party left and you pleaded with Amy to stay longer so you could walk back with Peter, instead of in the over filled cars.

“You were far too beautiful in the ceremony” he said, gently holding your hand and swinging your arms back and forth slowly.

“And you look far too handsome in your suit” you looked up into his brown eyes, then down to his horribly disfigured tie, “Oh my God, Peter!” you began giggling at the knot, “Didn’t anyone help you?”

“Well they were kinda busy with the wedding thing”

“Let me fix it then” you released his hand and turned around, setting your nimble fingers to un do the knot. He watched transfixed by you, staring at your small hands. You fixed his tie pulling it up closer to his neck, feeling his pulse quicken the closer you got.

“Y/N” his voice cracked, “I-I-I”

“What is it Peter?” your eyes a big as the moon tentatively looking back up into his.

“Y/N, I think I love you”

“Peter, I Think I love you too” both of your cheeks matching the same colour crimson, “No, I don’t ‘think’ I love you, I do love you Peter”

“God, I love you too Y/N” and with that his lips crashed onto yours, his hands reaching down and grabbing you at the waist. Your bodies were held as close together as possible, his tongue dancing with yours. Your hands destroying his perfectly gelled hair. Both your hearts racing, the tossed confetti twirling around you, dancing the same dance as your two tongues.

“Peter as much as I love doing this with your we’re going to miss the reception if we don’t start walking again”

“Alright, on two conditions though” he said, letting go of your face and once again grasping your hand.

“What are they Parker?”

“One. We take a break after 5 minutes of walking to kiss again” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“I can arrange that” you squeezed his hand.

“Two. The next time I see you walking down that aisle, it will be in a gorgeous white dress and I will be waiting for you at the end”

“Can do, where do I sign?”

“Right here” he pointed at his lips and puckered them slightly.

You rolled your eyes but complied, settling your lips once again on his.

You love Peter Parker, almost as much as he loves you.

He was beautiful. He thought you were too.


The Signs as Pre-’Game of Thrones’ Characters (Part I)

Aries//Theon Stark

Alias: The Hungry Wolf
Title: King in the North
Royal House: House Stark

Theon Stark defended the North from the Andals in the Andal invasion. After he defeated Argos Sevenstar in the Battle of the Weeping Water he sailed across the Narrow Sea to the coast of Andalos with Argos body put up on the prow of his ship for everyone to see. Then he continued his revenge by burning Andal villages, displaying the spiked heads of his victims on the coastline as a warning for future invaders. Theon Stark was a superb conqueror and a wise strategist in times of war. In the crypt of Winterfell he is displayed as thin, with long hair and a skinny beard. 

Taurus//Artys I Arryn

Alias: Winged Knight
Title: King of Mountain and Vale
Royal House: House Arryn

Artys I Arryn is a legendary hero, born of true Andal blood. The moon and the falcon were displayed on his shield and falcon’s wings adorned his silver war helmet. He is known as the greatest warrior of his time, cunning, resourceful and loved as well as trusted by those following him into battles. The Andals found their leader in the Winged Knight and fought under him against Robar II Royce, leader of the First Men. In the Battle of the Seven Stars, he possibly killed Robar himself and after their victory, the Andals made him King of Mountain and Vale and thus the Arryn dynasty was born.

Gemini//Shiera Seastar

Allegiance: House Targaryen
Culture: Valyrian

Shiera Seastar was the last Great Bastard of Aegon IV Targaryen and known as the most beautiful woman of Westeros. She had long silver-gold hair, a heart-shaped face, two different coloured eyes (one green and the other blue) and was a great seductress. Lady Shiera was a skilled reader, maintaining a huge library and speaking many languages. People even suspected her to master dark arts. Shiera never married but many suitors fought battles in her favour, the most famous amongst them being Brynden Rivers and Aegor Rivers. It was rumoured that she bathed in the blood of maidens to maintin her beauty.

Cancer//Garth Greenhands

Alias: Garth the Green
Title: High King of the First Men
Culture: First Men

Garth Greenhands is a mythical king who supposedly wore a crown of vine and flowers and made the land bloom. Some legends picture him as the High King who led the First Men across the Arm of Dorne. According to other songs, he was the first human in Westeros or a green god that demands blood sacrifices from is worshippers to ensure a fruitful harvest. It is told that he taught men how to farm, giving them seeds and helping with their harvest. In old lore, he carries a canvas full of seeds with him to fill the world with trees, fruits and flowers. And he did not only bring fertility to the land but to women, making barren ones fruitful, gifting mothers with twins or triplets and making young girls flower at his smile.

Leo//Daena Targaryen

Alias: Daena the Defiant
Title: Princess
Royal House: House Targaryen

Daena Targaryen was the eldest daughter of King Aegon III Targaryen and Queen Daenaera Velaryon and the most famous amongst the three daughters. She was widely admired for her fierceness, her daring nature and strong will. With her striking Targaryen looks and her wild and fearless personality she was definitely one of the most attractive women in Westeros. Daena was a refined horsewoman and very skilled in hunting and archery but she was never allowed to take part in a  tourney even though she wanted to desperately. The Princess admired her father and her brother and always wore a three-headed dragon pendant given to her as a present by the king.

Virgo//Nymeria of Ny Sar

Alias: Nymeria of the Royne
Title: Princess, Queen
Allegiance: House Martell

Before the Valyrian Freehold came and conquered the Rhoyne, Nymeria was the ruler of Ny Sar where her palace stood. She led those of her people who had survived into exile from Essos and lived with them for a while on the Summer Islands as refugees. She then decided to take her fleet to Dorne to strike an alliance with the Martells of Sunspear, marrying Mors Martell and burning the Rhoynar ships. She conquered the rest of Dorne together with the Martells and defeated six Dornish kings. Today she is known as the Warrior Queen and widely admired for her bravery and loyalty towards her people. She’s an idol and inspiration for many women, such as young Arya Stark who even named her direwolf after Nymeria.


aztec goddesses → chicomecoatl “seven serpent”

in aztec mythology, chicomecoatl was the goddess of food and produce, especially maize. every september, she would receive the body of a decapitated young girl. she is usually distinguished by being shown carrying ears of maize. she is depicted in three different forms: a young girl carrying flowers, a woman who brings death with her embraces and a mother who uses the sun as a shield.

“some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night”

hetaliafandomhubepsilon  asked:

Hello! To start off your Ambassador work, can you talk about some interesting traditions in your country? (If you'd like a different question, let us know!) Thank you so much!


Ukraine has many interesting traditions. Some of them are a fusion of different aspects such as the change of the seasons, ancient Slavic beliefs and modern religion, while others have a strong connection with various forms of human relationships. Ukrainians are very proud of their their traditions and try if not to follow them then at least make sure that people remember those traditions. 

One of the holidays that combine a lot of different traditions is Івана Купала (Ivana Kupala or Kupala night).It is celebrated on the night of 6/7 July. That holiday involves a lot of mystery and magic. During the night people can really feel their connection with nature. 

A lot of people look for the mysterious fern flover (цвіт папороті), since Kupala night is the only day when fern blooms. The one who finds the flower will be extremely lucky and rich during the next year and their wishes will definitely come true! 

(source: x ) 

Unfortunately, fern is not able to bloom, but who doesn’t like a good legend? :D Come on, we all like unicorns, leprechauns and fairies. It is good to have something to believe in. And who knows, maybe those legends are true, but we don’t know that yet. 

Another tradition involved is jumping over a bonfire. That proves your strength and stamina. A lot of couples jump too to make sure that their relationship is true and sincere. 

(source: x ) 

Young girls make wreaths of flowers and let them flow on the river. The way the wreath flows describes their future relationship. The person who will find the wreath is meant to be together with the one who let it flow. 

(source: x )

Weddings also involve a lot of traditions. Bride and groom have their hands tied together to symbolize the special connection between them (reminds me of the red string of fate). During the ceremony bride changes her veil to a kerchief (kerchiefs were worn by married women in the past). This tradition means that the bride enters a new period of her life and says goodbye to her past life. 

(source: x )

Those wedding traditions are very beautiful and symbolic. However there is also some weird stuff going on at the weddings (e. g. when groom washes his mother-in-law’s legs with vodka. It is supposed to be fun, but it isn’t. Yeah.). 

I would also like to tell you about some common Ukrainian superstitions. 

  • Black cats symbolize bad luck. You should not cross the road if there are any black cats ahead of you. Same thing with empty buckets. Be careful! 
  • Broken dishes symbolize good luck and happiness, however broken mirrors are associated with grief and regret. Try not to look into the shards if you are single, because you will remain single for the next 7 years!
  • If you have friends that moved into a new house make sure to give them a present, so that their life in the new house will be pleasant. 

That’s all for today’s post. I hope it was interesting! Thank you for the ask! 

Ravens and Crows Part 2: An Ivar Imagine

Part two of my request from @lyra-stark99 about Ivar meeting a mythological creature in the woods as a child. Apparently I can’t contain this and there will be a part 3. I did my best with the mythology but if it’s inaccurate I apologize!

Part one can be found here:

Laoch beag- little warrior

Eire- Ireland

Aoife is pronounced Ee-fa


Ivar grew.

And as he grew, he learned. He learned about his gods, how to please them and honor them. He learned how to use a sword and a bow. He learned how to sit back and observe, to store up information and then best decide how to use it to his advantage. Most important of all, he learned what it was like to have a friend.

For that is was Aoife came to be to him, over the years. Always by his side, in public as a cat and in private as whatever form she chose. She talked to him of many things, of creatures and gods and a world so very different from his own.

“I am called a puca,” she told him one day, not long after she had first come to him. He had scrunched up his nose at the funny word.

“A what?”

“A puca. A spirit, a shapeshifter. I can choose my form, whatever I please. In my land, Eire, there are many of us. Some choose to harm humans, others, like me, choose to help them.”

“So you are here to help me?” Ivar had frowned. “With what? Who sent you? Are the gods in Eire? Did Odin send you?”

Aoife had laughed. “Does your All-Father bless the people of the Green Isle? No, he cares only for the Northmen. As he should. My people are cared for by their own gods. I will teach you about them. Along with many other things. It will do good for you to know.”

Ivar had asked why, but all she had said was he would find out when he was ready. He did not particularly care to know about other gods, but he was desperate to know what secrets she was keeping from him. So he listened.

She taught him of the Morrigna, of the three sisters called The Morrigan, Babda Catha, and Macha, who gave prophecies and determined battles. She taught him of The Dagda, the “good god”, who fathered the beloved Brigit, lady of poetry. She taught him of Eriu, Mother of the Land. She spun stories of kelpies, leprechauns and fairies. He did not want to be interested, but he found himself captivated by her tales. Eire seemed like such a lush place, a place of old power and strong blood. He longed to see it with his own eyes. He was surprised to find it was easy to believe there was more than just his gods. Of course, the gods of his people were superior. But he supposed it was plausible every people had their own gods to look after them.

She also taught him her lilting language, the strange words heavy on his tongue at first, but gradually getting easier. They spend many afternoons in the forest, Aoife patient as he attempted to make conversation in what she called Gaeilge. He was surprised he liked the way the words sounded from his mouth. He found himself speaking Gaeilge to himself when he was at home, Aoife purring and batting her paws against him proudly when he would say things correctly.

She never left him, save for a short period about three years after she had decided to stay. She told him she had to return to Eire for a while, and was gone for almost a month. He felt morose while she was gone, and he was more snippy and angry than usual. It wasn’t the same without her constant presence, whether as a girl or cat. He was deeply afraid she would not return to him, that she had grown tired of his temper. It was then he realized that she had actually become a friend. His first friend. The thought made him almost….happy. When she was there, he no longer felt the weight of crushing loneliness, and on days when he just wanted the pain to end, her stories and her presence kept him from total darkness. When she finally came back, it felt as if a weight was lifted from him. She had returned. His friend. His companion. His Aoife.

“You will not leave me again,” he told her, eyes blazing. “You are my friend. No one else’s. If you have to go back to Eire, I will come with you.”

Aoife smiled at him, and something strange shone in her eyes. “Oh laoch beag, I cannot promise that I will not leave again. But I will say this: you will have a different companion one day, and the tether between your hearts will burn so hot and so bright the sun will pale in comparison.”

He did not know what to say, and she did not offer any more.

It was then, upon her return, that the dreams started. Dreams of crows and ravens, circling him. Of a terrifying but beautiful woman, covered in blood, crying out to him from amidst a desolate battlefield. An old man, shaking a maiden’s hand, dislike but understanding on both their faces. A pretty young girl, blue flowers in her hair and freckles across her nose, humming softly as she stirred a bubbling pot over a fire: He always awoke with a sense of longing in his chest, like he was aching for something but he did not know what. He asked Aoife what they meant, but she refused to tell him.

Until the day his father returned.

He was sitting out in the woods, contemplating what the return of his father meant. He hated the man, hated him for leaving. But yet he loved him, deep down within his often hurt heart. He wanted to go to England with him, to prove his worth to Ragnar, but he did not know if it was what he should do.

Aoife appeared then, in girl form. She never aged her appearance, always stayed the young girl of about six years old. The girl with the familiar face he still could not quite place. It was odd to think of himself keeping company with a child. But, then again, she was not really a child.

“You will go to England,” she said, without preamble. “You need to see what happens there. It was foretold.”

“You are always telling me things are foretold,” Ivar grumbled, not in the mood for her cryptic words. “Yet you never tell me what actually you mean. You have told me many times I will learn when I am ready. I am a man now, am I not ready? I grow tired of your riddles!”

Aoife sat beside him, her tail curling to brush his hand. “You have learned many things, laoch beag. You have conquered many fears and become a clever and sharp man. There is still a ways to go. But England will change that.” She sighed, suddenly looking very ancient despite her youthful face. “I think it is time.”

Ivar’s eyebrows shot up, surprise written across his features. “Time?”

“Yes, Ivar,” Aoife’s voice was steady, sure. “It is time you know what was foretold about you, why I came to you in the first place. In truth, I was sent by the one who forsees all, who looked into the future and saw a man with twisted legs and a keen mind. Who gazed across the sea and saw you.”

Ivar’s heart missed a beat. “The Morrigan.”

“Yes,” Aoife nodded. “The Morrigan.”

I looked into the future and saw him. A man without bones, but tall and proud. Blood in his teeth, fire in his heart. He will come with a vengeance, he will conquer and claim and make Eire his own. His All Father smiles upon him. We will meet him, and we will fall at his feet. We will give him our daughter, our Meara, blessed with the gift of the craft. His seed with quicken in her womb, and a child of great deeds and power will emerge. Two bloodlines, forged together. Strong. Iron clad and unbendable. The Northman and the Daughter of the Isle. Make the preparations. Speak to the All Father. Send the child a guide. He must grow and learn, he must endure and he must sail. I have seen it, and so it shall be.

We will await your coming, Ivar the Boneless.

Hope you enjoy! Have a good day or night, my dears ❤️

I think you wanted to be tagged?

To begin with, part company forever with the word: art, and that other word: artist. Stop wallowing in these words and repeating them with such endless monotony. Isn’t everyone a bit of an artist? Isn’t it true that mankind creates art not only on paper or on canvas, but also in every moment of everyday life—when a young girl pins a flower in her hair, when in the course of conversation a little joke escapes your lips, when we melt with emotion at the beauty of twilight’s light and shadow, what is all this if not the practicing of art?
—  Witold Gombrowicz, Ferdydurke