and i just want to hold her and make it all go away

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

11:57 PM - Peter Parker

request - alright i fuckin love tom holland so please like a smut where you catch peter sneaking in after dark and he tells you about his whole spider thing while you take care of wounds and such, and he’s like super scared your gonna leave him and so you reassure him and take care of him in another way if you catch my drift, this was real long but yeah thank you 

a/n - yes finally i post a smut fic on this blog and tbh it was kind of fun and interesting to write so i hope it isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you want and follow!

10:46 PM. Nearly 4 hours ever since Peter left me alone in his room. We were doing our Calculus homework with one another until he claimed he got an emergency phone call and ran out the door before I could say anything, taking his backpack with him.

The only thing that kept me company was my textbook and the sound of the falling rain from the outside. May was fast asleep in her room while I was far from that, my heart becoming a mix between anger and fear. I bounced my pencil against the pages of the math book, staring at my calculator as time went by.

I checked my phone again, 10:50 PM. Still no texts, no calls, nothing. I stared at my lockscreen for a few seconds before shutting off my phone and pushing it to the side, growing more frustrated by the minute.

“Dammit Peter.” I muttered, throwing my head back in a fit. I listened to the sound of the raindrops to try to calm me down, but nothing was working at this point.

I huffed and got up from the desk, beginning to pack my things up and call it a night, being more than prepared to give Peter the silent treatment for the next week. Just as I was about to zip my bag up, I heard the locks on the window become undone.

Keep reading

Liz’s Party l Peter Parker

Summary: Spiderman shows up at Liz’s party to impress everyone, mostly the reader.

Warning: some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

Type: Alternative scene (what would have happened if Peter showed up at Liz’s party as Spiderman to impress the reader…)

Part Two Here / Part Three Here / Part Four Here / Part Five Here / Part Six Here


It was gym class and Ned was currently holding down Peter’s feet as he did sit ups. Ned had recently found out that Peter was Spiderman and was constantly asking his best friend questions about being an Avenger.

“Hey,” Ned piped up. “Can I be your guy in the chair?”

“What?” Peter whispered, not wanting to be too loud.

“You know there is a guy with a headset telling the other guy where to go. Like if you were stuck or lost somewhere, I could tell you where to go because there would be screens and monitors around me. And I could be your guy in the chair,” Ned pleaded.

“Ned, I don’t need a guy in the chair,” Peter insisted.

“Looking good, Parker,” the gym teacher said. Peter paused momentarily before continuing with his sit ups.

“You see for me it would be…f*ck Thor, marry Iron Man, and kill Hulk,” Betty Brant said from the bleachers.

“What about the Spiderman,” Y/N voice piped up, making all her friends on the bleachers look at her.

“It’s just Spiderman,” Liz shrugged.

“Did you guys see that big security cam on youtube? He fought off four guys!” Peter and Ned watched Y/N as she practically praised the Spiderman.

“Oh my gosh. She’s crushing on Spiderman,” Betty joked.

“No way!”

“Kinda,” Y/N shrugged, a blush creeping up onto her face. Peter glance at Ned then turned his attention back to the group.

“Ugh. Gross. He’s probably like thirty,” Betty said.

“You don’t even know what he looks like. What if he is like seriously burned?” Liz suggested.

“I wouldn’t care. I would still love him for the person he is on the inside,” Y/N replied. “He’s a good man and its obvious he really cares about this city. That is something I really admire about him.”

“Peter knows Spiderman,” Ned blurted. Peter’s mouth dropped open and he turned towards Ned. Everyone in the room went silent and all their eyes were on Peter, even Y/N’s.

“Uh, no I don’t,” Peter said, scrambling to his feet. “No. I-I mean.” He turned and faced Y/N and her friends.

“They’re friends,” Ned added with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, like coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash teased, now walking over to his rival.

“I-I’ve met him. Yeah, a couple times but its uh…through the Stark internship,” Peter clarified, briefly looking at Y/N. Flash seemed to be enjoying this for a smirk was evident on his face. “Mhmm. Yeah but I am not really suppose to talk about it,” Peter turned around, glaring at Ned.

“Well, that’s awesome,” Flash replied. “Hey, you know what? Maybe you should invite him to Liz’s party.”

“Yeah, I am having people over tonight. You are more than welcome to come,” she smiled.

“You’re having a party,” Ned asked.

“W-Will you be there Y/N?” Peter stuttered. Y/N looked up and nodded her head.

“Y-Yeah. I’m going.” Peter smiled shyly at her.

“Yeah, its gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spiderman,” Flash insisted.

“Flash,” Y/N warned. “Leave him alone.”

“Ah come on. He’ll be there,” Flash spat. The bell rang and everyone stood to their feet and made their way towards the door. Peter watched Y/N stand, the two of them briefly met each other’s gaze before she broke it. She walked with her friends out of the gym, Peter’s eyes following her form.

Peter groaned in annoyance and look at Ned. “What are you doing?!?”

“Helping you out,” Ned said. “Did you not hear her? Y/N has a crush on you!” Peter opened his mouth to say something but nothing came. He couldn’t believe his childhood crush had a crush on him…well Spiderman. “Dude, you are an avenger!” Ned said, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. “If any one of us has a chance with Y/N, its you.” 

Y/N and Peter had known each other since grade school and had become pretty close friends. Peter developed his first crush on her but never had the guts to tell her. And here she was, years later, having a crush on Peter’s alter ego. It almost didn’t feel real to Peter. Was he hearing this right? Was she really in love with Spiderman?


That night, May drove Peter and Ned over to Liz’s house. May stopped the car in front of the house and nodded her head. “A house party in the suburbs! Oh, I remember these. I’m kinda jealous.”

“It will be a night to remember,” Ned said with excitement.

“Ned, some hats wear men. You wear that hat!”

“Yeah, it gives me confidence,” Ned grinned.

“This is a mistake,” Peter said, suddenly feeling nauseous. “Hey, let’s just go home.”

“Oh Peter. I know. I know its really hard trying to fit in with all the changes your body is going through,” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s flowering you.” Peter bit his lip and laughed slightly. 

“Okay, yeah. I’m gonna go,” Peter said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He exited the car, Ned following his actions.

“Peter,” May called. “Have fun.”

“I will,” Peter smiled.

“Bye May,” Ned waved as the car drove away. The two of them turned around and began walking up the sidewalk, towards the house. “Dude, you have the suit, right?” Peter lifted up his arm sleeve and showed him the web shooters and red costume. “This is going to change our lives!”

They entered the house, music blasting in the background and kids walking around with drinks in their hands. “DJ Flash,” the announcer said, making both the boys look over at the Flash operating the music.

“Okay, we are gonna have Spiderman swing in, say you guys are tight and then I get a fist bump or one of those half bro hugs,” Ned whispered to his best friend.

“Can’t believe you guys are at this lame party,” Michelle said, standing next to them.

“But…you’re here too,” Ned insisted.

“Am I?” Michelle walked off.

“Oh my–. Hey guys,” Y/N said. “Cool hat, Ned.”

“Hey Y/N,” Ned said with a silly grin on his face.

“Hey Y/N,” Peter’s voice squeaked.

“I’m glad you guys came,” she smiled. “There is pizza and drinks so go and help yourself.”

“Wow, what a great party,” Peter added with a smile.

“I barely did anything. It was all Liz.” Someone called her name and she turned her head. “Oh, I should go.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. She walked away and Ned said goodbye to her.

“Dude! What are you doing? She’s here, spider it up!”

“No. No. No. I can’t. I cannot do this. Spiderman is not a party trick,” Peter said. “Look, I am just gonna…be myself.”

“Peter, no one wants that.”

“Dude,” Peter said hurtfully. He turned to walk away when Flash called out his name on the microphone.

“Parker! What’s up? Hey, where is your pal, Spiderman? Let me guess, in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?” The crowd laughed and Peter clenched his fists in anger. “That’s not Spiderman. That’s just Ned in a red shirt.”


Somehow, through peer pressure, Peter found himself outside. He disregarded his regular clothing and underneath it was his red and blue Spiderman outfit. He knelt down on the rooftop and gazed down at Liz’s house.

“Hey! What’s up? I am Spiderman,” he whispered to himself as he took off his shirt. “Just thought I would swing by, say hello to my buddy Peter. Oh hey, what’s up Ned? Where is Peter anyways?”

He sighed, looking down at Ned who stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Peter shook his head.

“I can’t do this.” Peter noticed Y/N walk up to Ned and ask him a question. In response, Ned shrugged and she nodded her head before walking away. As soon as she was out of sight, Ned yanked out his phone and dialed Peter’s number. Peter answered it immediately.

“Peter! Where are you? Y/N’s asking for you,” Ned said, desperately.

“I will be there in a second.”

Originally posted by over-et

Peter hung up and gazed down at Y/N’s concerned face. She fiddled with her fingers and her eyes continued to wander around the room. Peter put his mask on and stood to his feet before swinging down.

“Oh sorry,” he apologized to some people. Everyone turned around to look at him and all mouth’s dropped open. He maneuvered his way through the crowd of people until he made it inside. “Sorry, I just gotta…find my friend Peter.”

“Spiderman?” He turned around at the sound of Y/N’s voice. His robotic eyes dilated and his head moved up and down her body. His actions did not go unnoticed by Y/N. “W-What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Peter called me and asked if I could show.”

“No way,” Flash said in disbelief. He pushed past the crowd and soon came face to face with the superhero himself. “You’re really him? Are you really friends with Peter Parker?”

Peter turned his eyes towards Y/N who stood behind Flash. He pushed past his rival and approached her. “Hi,” he said awkwardly.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“What’s your name? Wait. No. Let me guess. Y/N, right?”

“Y-Yeah, how did you know?”

“Peter talks a lot about you,” Spiderman said.

“H-He does?” 

“Spiderman!” He turned around and faced Ned. “Hi! It’s Ned. Remember me?”

“Yeah I do. How are you doing?” He gave Ned his fist bump and the boy nearly collapsed when realizing he was going to be popular for the rest of his life.

“Fine. I’ll let you get back to Y/N. She’s a big fan,” Ned laughed. Peter turned his head and eyed Y/N.

“Really?” He teased and she looked down at her feet. 

“Well, kinda,” she replied, blushing like crazy. 

“Well, I should get going. New York isn’t going to save itself,” Spiderman said.

“Yeah,” Y/N added, dreamily admiring the superhero.

“It was nice to finally meet you. Oh and tell Peter that Mr Stark needs him at the internship at four thirty tomorrow,” Spiderman added. “Can you do that for me?”

Y/N nodded and Spiderman winked at her with his big eyes, making her smile. Spiderman used his web shooters and swung away from the party. He made his way back up to the rooftop when everyone had lost interest and began to change back into his normal clothes.

“I can’t believe he actually showed,” Flash said to Y/N.

“What’s the matter, Flash? Jealous of Peter or of Spiderman?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Dating Tom includes...

  • when you first meet 
  • tom thinks you’re fucking beautiful and he can’t stop staring at you
  • but you think it’s kinda creepy, but he’s lucky because of his cute looks
  • then he finally got the courage to talk to you
  • and he didn’t leave empty handed too bc you gave him your number
  • soon enough y’all started dating
  • everyone shipped you for the longest times
  • inStAgRAM CAptions AbOut EaChOtHer 
  • and its indirect af
  • but everyone knows its about you two
  • taking that cliche beach picture of him holding your hand but you’re ahead of him
  • but let’s be honest he just wanted to see you in a bathing suit bc you’re perfect the way you are to him.
  • cuddles™
  • you on his chest sometimes
  • tom between your legs sometimes
  • tom constantly has to be touching you
  • he loves it when you have your hands in his hair
  • and you like touching his curly messy hair
  • its soft af.
  • being accused of being a gold digger
  • but you were oblivious to the fact that tom was famous for like a month or two
  • “tommy, why do you always hide your face when you go outside?”
  • “paparazzi”
  • “haha, no seriously.” 
  • tom feeling like he can’t take you anywhere bc of paparazzi.
  • once you had a panic attack in front of him and he held you for hours afterwards
  • sometimes your depression gets really bad and you stay in bed, but tom joins you.
  • but you’re up against the wall because you don’t wanna talk or be touched and he gives you time
  • then you give in and he cuddles, kisses, and snuggles you all day.
  • holding HANDS UGHH
  • you lucky bitch you
  • spooning
  • tom constantly taking pictures of you
  • you sometimes being mad because you say you look ugly
  • tom then being mad bc you’re not ugly
  • tom calling you cute names that make your heart flutter
  • princess™
  • baBY GIRL™
  • DarLING™
  • getting to hear his morning voice and that shit turns you on
  • speaking of being turned on
  • lots and lots of sex
  • but seriously
  • sometimes there’s the fluffy passionate days
  • sometimes there’s the rough angsty days
  • but overall it’s great
  • “don’t you dare hold your moans in, babygirl.”
  • tom found your sweetspot on your neck one time
  • and you moaned loudly
  • and he continued
  • “i- da- mhmm” 
  • tom pulling away. 
  • “huh, daddy, babygirl?” 
  • let’s just say it was an exciting night and one to not be forgotten of. 
  • going on set with him
  • and tom getting head after a long stressful day on set
  • getting to meet the avengers
  • and you almost collapsing
  • “tommy, i told you i had to pace myself meeting them. i almost died.” 
  • tom sleeping in your lap sometimes
  • “tommy, baby, you have gray hairs.”
  • “wut??!!!”
  • the holland brothers love you
  • mostly bc you’re a pro at roasting your boyfriend
  • quackson claxon™
  • “omg, tom, can we keep her?”
  • “harry, no. she’s mine.”
  • “i don’t recall being an object, stanley.” 
  • him deathglaring you and now you know your in for it tonight.
  • harrison constantly gagging at you pda
  • zenday and laura being your bestfriends
  • catching tom singing on camera
  • using it as blackmail
  • jacob being like the brother you always wanted
  • being the biggest prankster on set
  • “damn, i should be an actress.”
  • one time you two had a fight
  • and tom left and slammed the door
  • and didnt return or talk to you for a fucking week
  • and you were a wreck
  • then when he did come back, you were still in your bed crying over it
  • “i’m so sorry, princess. i’ll never do it again.”
  • makeup sex
  • “daddy’s sorry, princess.” 
  • and you guys being cute af together everyday
  • you end up being on the avengers gc
  • they all adore you
  • especially seb
  • and mackie
  • you all roast tom together
  • silent treatment.
  • “baby, we were just joking.” you would murmur, kissing his neck. 
  • hollywood’s young lovers™ forever. 
The Other Guy

summary: pietro proves to y/n that bucky is into her by doing everything in his power to make him jealous

pairing: bucky x reader, pietro x reader [pretended]

word count: 3.6k+

warnings: mentions of smut, jealousy, annoyed bucky, confrontation

a/n: literally wanna vom just thinking about hurting bucky like this i would never also this is shit but its been chilling in my drafts for 8 millions years so i decided to post it

“You are so full of shit,” Y/N laughed, absentmindedly stirring the oatmeal in her bowl. She sat at the kitchen island, blinded by the early morning sun, her pink sock clad feet swinging above the ground. She was dressed in only her tiny pyjama shorts and a hoodie, hair messy and the side of her face slightly red due to the position she slept in.

Pietro stood by the counter, dumping a bunch of different berries into a blender. It was only 8:30am and most of the compound was still fast asleep. Y/N and Pietro, however, made plans the night before to get up early, train together and then go out and buy a present for Wanda; Pietro’s way of apologising for crashing her date a few days back. The witch hadn’t spoken to him since and Pietro was slowly growing exasperated. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” Pietro chuckled, putting the lid on the blender and glancing at her over his shoulder. “He’s into you. I can prove it.”

Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes and pushing another spoonful of bland oatmeal past her lips.

Pietro switched on the blender, his back facing the shorter girl as he worked on preparing his usual morning smoothie. The loud noise of the blender continued to buzz inside Y/N’s ears even after Pietro had switched off the appliance. 

“I’d like to see you try, Maximoff,” Y/N smirked, provoking a quiet laugh from the speedster’s side. He popped off the lid of the blender, glanced inside to make sure his smoothie was ready and then made his way across the kitchen to grab a glass.

“I’m going to murder Bucky if he keeps eating my cereal. This stuff is gross,” she complained, pushing her bowl away with a roll of her eyes. She couldn’t understand how Steve could push the tasteless oatmeal past his lips. Unfortunately, since Bucky had cleared the cupboards of her usual breakfast cereal, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yeah, right. You wouldn’t lay a finger on Buck if your life depended on it,” Pietro laughed, soon realising he had to empty the dishwasher in order to find a clean glass. He bent over, focusing on the task at hand as Y/N pushed herself up and placed her bowl of oatmeal in the sink.

“You know me all too well,” she murmured, glancing inside Pietro’s blender and then back at him to make sure he wasn’t looking. Realising he wasn’t, Y/N grabbed her glass of water from the island, dumped the contents into the sink and hurried to fill it with the berry smoothie instead. When she was finished, she hopped onto the counter and sipped innocently on Pietro’s drink until he finally realised what she had done. 

“Thief,” he narrowed his eyes at her, abandoning his mission of emptying the dishwasher. He looked towards the now empty blender, realising he’d have to make more if he wanted to have a berry smoothie for breakfast. 

“Not a thief. Bucky’s a thief because he stole my cereal. I’m just… taking what’s rightfully mine. I did the grocery shopping yesterday.”

Pietro laughed, making his way across the kitchen and coming to a stop opposite Y/N.

“I don’t think he’d like to hear you say that. He’s too into you to not be upset by such words,” he teased.

“Right, he’s so into me he keeps stealing my cereal to piss me off. So romantic,” Y/N rolled her eyes sarcastically and Pietro shook his head at her. He watched her expression as she sipped on the smoothie, wondering if it tasted as good as he hoped.

When Y/N didn’t say anything about it, Pietro took a few steps forwards so that he was standing between her parted legs and reached for one of the straws sitting in a glass container behind Y/N on the counter.

She quirked a brow as he slid the straw into her glass. He leaned in, captured the end between his teeth and took a generous sip of the smoothie.

“Um, excuse you,” she objected, trying her hardest to hold back her laughter.

Y/N held the glass in both hands, far enough from herself for Pietro to drink from, and yet not far enough to not feel his breath on her skin. They were standing only inches apart and to anyone watching the interation could appear to be awfully intimate; so it wasn’t a surprise that only seconds later Y/N had to tear her eyes away from Pietro upon hearing someone clearing their throat.

Bucky was standing leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his muscular chest, one eyebrow cocked expectantly. He eyes the two Avengers already occupying the kitchen, then focused solely on Pietro with a confused glance. 

The speedster didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s stare, only looking at him for a brief second before turning back to Y/N. He placed the straw back between his lips and sucked. 

When Y/N looked down at him, Pietro was smirking knowingly. 

“Morning, Buck,” Y/N said cheerfully, trying to seem casual despite Pietro still standing between her parted legs, his hands now resting on either side of her hips, mindlessly humming as he continued sipping on the smoothie. He stepped even closer.

“Morning,” Bucky grumbled in response, strolling past the two of them and yanking open the fridge. He glanced inside, grabbed a tub of ice cream from the freezer and shut the door with unnecessary force. He found a spoon in the cutlery drawer, once more glanced at Pietro and Y/N and headed towards the exit.

When he was out of sight, Pietro finally retreated, clearly satisfied with himself by the shit eating grin across his face.

“What the hell was that about?” Y/N whispered, scared Bucky might still be close enough to hear. Pietro plucked the now empty smoothie glass out of her hands and chuckled as he placed it in the sink.

“Told you I could prove to you he’s into you,” he answered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and reaching out to plug out the blender.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “By almost feeling me up in front of him?”

Pietro scoffed. “I did no such thing,” he protested. “I’m going to prove to you he’s into you. With my help, his possessive self will be asking you out within two days.”

Y/N expelled a humourless chuckle. “Sure he will.”

“I can guarantee you that. Go and change in your training gear and we’ll get started right away,” he challenged, and Y/N eyed him suspiciously before sliding off of the counter.

“Fine, but if this doesn’t work out, you’ll be the one explaining to everyone why you’ve been all over me for two days,” she told him sternly, pointing her index finger in his direction.

Pietro grinned, holding his arms up in surrender. “Fine by me.”

By the time Y/N was dressed in her training gear, her hair brushed back into something that reassembled practicality, Pietro was already waiting for her outside the gym. She appeared behind him with a bottle of water in her hands and managed to scare him a little before he pushed open the door.

“Good choice of clothing,” Pietro commented quietly, nodding towards her shorts, “They’ll surely get his attention.“ 

Y/N walked past, looking at Pietro over her shoulder and furrowing her brows in confusion.

"His attention?” She questioned, and then finally realised that the gym wasn’t empty like she had expected it would be. Steve was running on the treadmill and Bucky was beating the hell out of a punching bag. When they entered, Steve waved a quick greeting but Buck only grumbled, causing Steve to shoot him a confused glance.

Y/N and Pietro strolled over to a bench at the end of the room and set their stuff down.

“I knew he’d be down here after what he saw in the kitchen. He’s probably picturing my face on the punching bag. He needs to blow off some steam,” Pietro murmured, only loud enough for Y/N to hear. 

When she looked towards Bucky, she noticed sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. She looked elsewhere, deciding to take a sip of her water.

“It’s a shame you’re not the one helping him do that. I’m sure it would be more satisfying for him - and you - if that punching bag wasn’t the only thing getting pounded by him.”

Y/N began to choke on her drink. Her body shook with violent coughs, getting the attention of the other two guys across the room. Y/N could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she attempted to stop herself from quite literally… dying.

“Is she alright?” Steve called out, stopping the treadmill as Pietro hit Y/N on the back, attempting to stop her from choking.

When she calmed down, she answered feebly, “I’m fine. Pietro was just… telling me a funny story.”

Bucky scoffed at that and Y/N almost didn’t catch it, but she did; and so did Steve.

“What’s wrong with you this morning?” He asked his best friend, but Bucky only shrugged, watching as Steve headed off to do some heavy lifting.

Pietro nodded for Y/N to follow him to the padded flooring. They did some stretching in silence and while Y/N worked on her arms, she spared another glance in Bucky’s direction. 

His sweat soaked shirt had disappeared and his face showed deep concentration as his fists furiously slammed against the surface of the red punching bag. He was light on his feet, sweat trickling down his face and chest, damp hair pulled back into a messy high pony. He looked damn good.

“Ahem,” Pietro pretended to cough and when Y/N looked back at him he was smirking. He had clearly noticed her staring and was amused by the expression on her face. Pietro handed her her sparring equipment.

“You’re drooling,” he noted, and she smacked his arm playfully.

“Am not,” she protested, finally pulling on her gloves and making her way towards the centre of the mat.

She made sure she was steady, got into position and when Pietro was ready the fighting began. Y/N pulled a few of the signature moves herself and Nat had come up with, and it wasn’t long before Pietro was lying on his back on the floor.

He got up each time and by the fourth time Y/N had him on the mat, she was growing kind of bored. That is, until Pietro managed to kick her legs out from under her and she fell with a loud thud. The silver haired speedster was quick to pin her down, one hand around her neck, the other holding the back of her thigh which she had wrapped around his waist.

When Y/N glanced to the left, knowing that the round was over and that Pietro would retreat any second, she noticed Bucky watching them from the sidelines, using a black towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Pietro seemed to notice him looking, too, because soon he was leaning down and bringing his lips to Y/N’s ear, his hair covering her eyes so she could no longer see Bucky.

He remained silent for a second then whispered. “He’s going to leave in three… two… one”.

The door to the gym slammed shut.

Pietro pushed himself up, his grin once more appearing. Y/N’s wanted to roll her eyes at his confidence but she had to admit, Pietro was damn good at this. It was as if he had his sister’s powers and could read Bucky’s mind. Then it hit her.

“Wanda told you he’s into me, didn’t she?" 

Pietro looked like a deer in headlights.

He inhaled sharply, then sheepishly admitted, "yeah, okay, she did.”

“Which means you’re not as cunning as you think you are. Which means this could not end as well as you expect it to." 

He shrugged his shoulders. "To some extent, maybe.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes and then next thing Pietro knew her legs were around his neck and she was forcing him down onto the floor, swiftly moving to pin him down, face first on the mat. She held his hands behind his back.

“You’re an idiot,” she told him, and Pietro laughed in response, hissing when she pulled at his wrists.

“An idiot who’s helping you get laid.”

Their sparring session continued for another twenty minutes, followed by some cardio and lifting. Steve seemed to have followed Bucky because he was no where to be seen and Y/N didn’t see either of them before herself and Pietro left the compound to buy Wanda’s gift. 

Finding the perfect apology present took them the majority of the afternoon and after grabbing lunch together and arguing over whether or not Pietro’s plan would work, they returned home. They waved a quick greeting to all the other avengers who sat around the lounge before heading straight to Y/N’s room to wrap up the gift.

Of course, the process of them wrapping up the present resulted in another play fight over which colour wrapping paper and how big of a bow to use. This led to Y/N’s hair looking like a bird’s nest, her already baggy sweater falling off her shoulder and her sticky lipstick smudged across her cheek.

By the time they were finished, they both looked like a mess and Pietro had bits of tape stuck to his face like a child on Christmas morning.

He thanked her for the help before heading to his room and asked her to tell Wanda to find him.

Y/N didn’t bother fixing her appearance before heading to the lounge where everyone else was sitting around watching a rom-com. As asked, she told Wanda that Pietro wanted to see her and then headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. 

There, Bucky was already making coffee. He remained silent, leaning against the counter as Y/N grabbed a mug and dumped a tea bag into it, staring at the buzzing kettle between them. 

When she looked up, Bucky was studying her carefully.

“Your, uh… Lipstick is smudged,” he told her, pointing to his own mouth rather sheepishly. Y/N grabbed a paper towel and said nothing as she began to wipe it off. Bucky continued to look at her.

“No, you’re just making it worse,” he chuckled lightly and took the towel from her hand, stepping closer to help her. Y/N stayed unmoving as he held her chin lightly, wiping off the redness. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, hearing the kettle switch off.

“You need to tell your lover boy to be less sloppy,” Bucky noted, stepping back and throwing the tissue into the trash. Y/N cleared her throat before moving over to pour the boiling water into the two mugs.

She didn’t say anything to his previous words and when their drinks were made, they both headed back to the lounge. Bucky sat down between Nat and Steve and Y/N situated herself on the vacant love seat to the right of the TV. 

She tried to focus on the screen but she couldn’t help but feel Bucky’s eyes on the side of her face. However, every time she’d glance over at him, he’d look away as if nothing happened.

It wasn’t long before Wanda and Pietro returned, both smiling, obviously having made up. Wanda quickly situated herself on the pile of cushions and blankets on the floor and Pietro moved across the room to where Y/N sat. 

He made himself comfortable, his head in her lap, casually glancing over at Bucky to check if he was looking. Out of pure curiosity, Y/N looked over at him, too, and felt disappointment when she realised he wasn’t looking back at her. Instead, Buck’s eyes were glued to the screen, his arm casually thrown over Steve’s shoulder, his lips pursed.

Maybe he wasn’t jealous the way Pietro wanted him to be.

The movie continued and when it ended, Bruce got up to put on the sequel. This gave everyone an opportunity to go to the toilet, grab more snacks or chat for a while. It was then Pietro rolled over onto his stomach and looked up at Y/N, almost as if he knew she wanted to say something.

“I don’t think he’s all that bothered. Maybe he’s just not a fan of PDA in general,” Y/N whispered to him but Pietro only rolled his eyes. 

He remained silent as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, threw his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her legs over his lap. Y/N didn’t say anything but she could already feel Wanda and Tony eyeing them curiously from across the room; and although she wanted to explain to them there was nothing going on between her and Pietro, she remained quiet.

The movie began and the lights were switched off, the late hour resulting in a cozy dark room. It was getting kind of chilly, courtesy of Tony’s inability to sit in a room without the windows open, so Y/N didn’t actually mind having Pietro to cuddle. In fact, when his hand began slowly stroking her calf, she wiggled even closer and nuzzled her face into his chest. 

Suddenly, Tony spoke up.

“So, uh, am I the only one who’s confused about what’s going on?”

Y/N lifted her head and looked over at him to see what he was talking about. Upon realising he was already staring back at her with a confused frown, it only took her a second to figure out what the hell he meant. 

“Since when are you two a thing?” Tony continued, chuckling a little. “Yesterday I heard you two calling each other names and now here you are.” He waved his hand in their direction rather dramatically. “Doesn’t anyone else find it weird?”

Natasha then decided to pipe in. “Yeah, I mean, I’m a little confused myself. I thought you liked that other guy.” By other guy Natasha clearly meant Bucky, having been the person who listened to Y/N ramble about her crush day and night.

“What other guy?” Bucky asked, looking from Nat to Y/N, but both of them only shrugged, not wanting to give it away.

“Guys, that’s enough. Let them be,” Steve decided to interfere, not liking the way in which this conversation was heading. He wasn’t very fond of the rest of the group holding this intervention. 

“Steve, stop pretending to not care. You were just as confused as everyone else after what happened in the gym today,” Bucky announced, and the rest of the group looked at each other, almost as if waiting for someone to elaborate. No one did. 

“So,” Tony once again spoke up. “Dare to enlighten us about the situation?” He eyed Y/N and Pietro again. Y/N was seconds away from telling everyone the whole truth. However, before she even managed to open her mouth, Pietro was already speaking.

“I don’t know. We’re just sorta… hanging out, I guess,” he tried to seem casual.

Bucky scoffed, looking at Pietro as if he had lost his mind.

“Hanging out? Please, cut the bullshit." 

At this point, the whole room was holding its breath.

"You damn well know I like her and you’ve been rubbing your new relationship in my face all day. But let me tell you one thing,” he turned to Y/N. “Whatever it is you two have, it won’t last longer than a week.”

Y/N remained silent for a moment, and so did everyone else, not wanting to interfere. Even Steve seemed to have locked his mouth with an imaginary key and kept his preaching to himself for once. Then, after several seconds, Y/N finally responded timidly.

“Truth be told, it wasn’t gonna last more than two days.”

“What?” Bucky’s brows knitted together into a confused frown.

Y/N inhaled sharply and groaned at his stupidity. She pushed herself up from the sofa. Uncertain, Bucky stood up, too.

“I’ve been hinting that I like you for months! Who do you think this other guy Natasha mentioned was, huh? It was you, you absolute dumb ass! I’m not into Pietro for God’s sake!”

Sam began laughing but Wanda clamped her hand over his mouth.

“Wait, what?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Bucky’s stupidity and Steve got up, placing a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“I think what she means, Buck, is that her and Pietro were trying to make you jealous,” he explained, but Bucky only looked more confused than before.

“What?”

He simply couldn’t get any slower.

And so, not seeing any different way of going about this, Y/N breathed in and began trudging in his direction. Afraid Y/N was on her way to smack him for being silly, Bucky took a step back and fell back onto the sofa. His eyes displayed utmost confusion as Y/N climbed onto his lap with her legs on either side of him, grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him. 

Right there. In front of the whole team.

A series of cheers, shouts and whistles followed. Bucky’s surprise melted away and soon he was wrapping his arms around Y/N’s middle, pulling her closer and kissing her back. It didn’t last long, but the kiss was pleasant, and when Y/N retreated, she realised everyone was still looking at her.

Catching Bucky’s gaze, she smiled sheepishly and knew that he finally understood what she meant.

“Does that explain it?” She murmured, and Bucky nodded, lips swollen and gaze blazing. 

Y/N sighed in relief and when she turned her head to look at the rest of the team, Pietro was cracking up at the other end of the room. He stood up, brushed off his jeans and said:

“You owe me one, Y/N.”

She smiled, turning her gaze back to Buck when the brunette finally spoke up. “As do I.”

Why Midoriya Izuku is the Best Shounen Main Character

Alright so I’m pretty guilty right now. I have a lot of things to sort out and I still unanswered asks and oh boy do I got a lot of fanfic writing to do before summer ends and I’m opening requests soon but JESUS Y’ALL. Im a huge fan of this series and I’ll be damned if I miss writing something for this boy’s birthday. I already missed writing my Inko appreciation on her birthday but I won’t let her down!

So…HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MIDORIYA IZUKU AKA BEST SHOUNEN MC

Originally posted by cruvcio

Woah, broad statement to say huh? Well, my friends, I’ve read a lot of manga, particularly shounens since that’s my more favorite genre, and I have to say that Midoriya Izuku has been the best main character I’ve ever read and I only hope he continues to grow into his beautiful character.

I mean even from the beginning of the manga, the way he was written was so completely relatable and realistic. In the very beginning of the manga, he was written to be this lonely boy who suffered through bullying and suicide comments and continuously kept going because of his obsession with heroes. From the very beginning, Horikoshi gave us this character that wasn’t perfect (rather was filled with psychological issues) and really at the bottom of the totem pole. I know a lot of people have compared Izuku with Naruto but at least Naruto was born with an incredibly gifted ability from the start. Izuku was literally born with nothing. In a society where there are heroes running rampant and where Izuku dreams about being a hero, he was literally born with all odds against him in that regard. Yet, through all the loneliness, through all the bullying, Izuku still stayed strong through all of that and continued to dream on his goal, only truly wavering once when All Might told him he should find a new dream (and even then, he still got himself almost killed but I’ll get to that in a bit).

And to add on to his realistic demeanor, I know a lot of people call Izuku a cry baby and make fun of his constant amount of crying but honestly? Imagine this: you were born a black sheep in society, everyone looks down on you, you dream of being something great but you weren’t born with the skills for it, someone you consider to be a friend looks down on you and literally tells you to go jump off a building and destroys a piece of you that you hold memorable, then you almost get killed but someone saves you, then you finally get to meet your idol, the person keeping you alive essentially and they tell you straight up that you should give up on your dream, then you’re devastated but you see that friend in a life threatening position so you literally sacrifice yourself to go save them even though you can’t do anything, and then instead of praise, you get all the blame and beaten down again while your friend gets all the praise, but then you end that EMOTIONAL DAY (keep in mind it happened within a DAY) with your idol telling you that you can be that person and he will help you achieve your dream. I won’t even go onto the other times he’s cried but honestly? I know if I was in his position, I wouldn’t have even stomached half of what happened and I’m sure most of you reading this wouldn’t be able to have a DAY like that without crying. I’m sure with 99% of you, at least once tears will shed. Izuku during his time has been through emotionally exhausting feats and I think it’s absolutely INCREDIBLE that Horikoshi gives us this raw character with RAW emotions. Through Izuku being this emotional, not only does it help us relate to him much more but it helps shows that, hey you can still be strong AND be emotional too. Emotions doesn’t equal weakness and Horikoshi really shows that tremendously, especially when the audience are a group of young ones-adults that are taught daily showing emotions is weak and you have to be strong and not show weakness because apparently crying shows weakness. With Izuku, all of that is stomped on the ground and it’s truly inspiring.

Originally posted by t0ukas

And oh boy, my favorite part of Izuku! So most shounen protagonists I have seen and come across are usually born or given this great ability suddenly and yes, while they have to train, they normally get the hang of it pretty quickly and are pretty op with it (I’m looking at you Natsu). Most of the time nakama power is enough to win the battle even though the power difference is crazy different. Yet with Izuku, it’s not like that at all. We are 145 chapters in and Izuku can only still use a small portion of One for All still and he’s gotten to the point where, because of his continuous idiotic use of One for All, he has the major consequence that if he uses it too much at 100%, he could lose FUNCTION IN HIS ARMS. OH YEA, PRETTY BIG DEAL AND CONSEQUENCE FOR THAT.

From what I just wrote, this was my favorite thing that was said:

Yes, folks, he not only says that once, not twice, but multiple times throughout the series. I think the most recent time he said it was during Episode 27 when he was climbing the walls, though I’m sure he’s said it in the future arcs and I forgot about it. Due to this new given status he was given, Izuku acknowledges that he is completely far behind from everyone else, he understands that he is at the bottom of the totem pole and that he has to work 10x harder than everyone else since he lost about 10-11 years to get used to his quirk. And throughout the series, Horikoshi doesn’t pull back on that, in fact he really drives it in that, while Izuku does become the greatest hero of all time, it doesn’t happen overnight, it takes a lot of time, training and consequences to get to that point. Even from the beginning, we were given a small glimpse of his incredible training regime and that alone just shows how much effort he has to put in and even that wasn’t enough. I won’t lie, it feels so refreshing that the Main Character isn’t some overpowered person who always gets away with his ridiculous moves, rather it’s nice that he does have consequences and that he see him actually develop into that role while he is being surrounded by others who could take that title from him.

Also, not only is he an intelligent and incredibly hard worker like holy hell, but can we talk about his personality as well? See, here is another perk about Izuku, we weren’t given some either suave person or an annoying character that makes you want to rip out your hair because they’re either too happy or too sad or too emo cringey mess. Rather, Horikoshi gave him a realist personality who thinks through, is incredibly modest and respectful, and holy fuck the most selfless character in the entire show.

I mean, we already know his intelligence and craftiness as he analyzes heroes and their moves as seen through the constant muttering he does as he watches them and his writings in his notebook

 Which might I add right now that I’m really happy Horikoshi gave him this type of analytic behavior as it makes his earlier actions have a bit more sense involved in them, like due to his constant observation he was able to use moves in combat that at least got him by in the beginning

 To also tie in with that, can I say that it is so refreshing to have a main character be a complete DORK about girls and such like that?? Like for someone who was lonely and only had much of the internet to interact with, it makes complete sense that in the beginning he’s really nervous around females or even touching them or talking to them.

Like look at how he talks to Ochako

 Or even how he reacted when Tsuyu said to put her down

Originally posted by the-friday-knight

 Or even how he reacted towards Mei when she had her chest all up in his grill.

 Not only does having this personality trait make him a total dork and cutie but it really shows that we won’t see anything super perverted on Deku’s side. Like if he’s too nervous to talk or even touch a girl in a different manner, than it really shows how respectful he is and how modest he is and how we won’t see any pervy side of Deku anytime soon, which is refreshing for an MC to be that way since most MCs have to either touch or acknowledge their love interest’s chest before they can be established as a good character.

 Though, I will say that even though those are amazing points of our birthday boy, the one personality trait of his that truly makes him a much more fitting hero than Bakugou or even Todoroki or even my baby Ochako is how incredibly SELFLESS he is. Ok ok I know that’s a common personality trait but Izuku really takes it to the max throughout the manga.

 Like when right after he was told to jump by Bakugou, his initial thoughts were based on Kacchan not wanting to get severely punished by the law


Or when he risks his life to save Bakugou from the sludge monster even though he has no quirk

Or when he risks his life once again to save Ochako even though he can’t control his quirk

 Or when he risks his life AGAIN to save All Might 

 Or when he attempts to help Ochako before her fight with Bakugou

 Or when he puts his spot in the tournament on the line to help Todoroki reconcile his fire side

 Or when he helps Iida with the Stain fight and notifies the entire class to come and help

Or when he even goes well over his power limit to save Kota and show him that heroes are good people that can hold on their own

 Or when, even though he could lose function in his GOD DAMN ARMS, he still helps the others get Bakugou back from the villains

And note guys, I didn’t even list everything. I just listed the things I could remember but there is so much more that I could have listed as well. And legit, the things I mentioned, there was no benefit in him doing that, like during the time he did them, all there were were cons for him, there was nothing positive in any of those situations for him. And yet? He still did it. He still put himself and his wishes behind to help those around him and make sure they were successful or safe, even if it meant his own life on the line. I’ve never seen other shounen protagonists push themselves this much in only 145 chapters and I think that’s absolutely incredible.

 Alright so this post is reaching to be about 2k and while I can say more about this wonderful boy, I also want to make sure that I not only post this on time but that I don’t find myself repeating the same thing over and over again. While Izuku is not my favorite character of all time, I am so happy and blessed that he is the main character of this amazing manga series. He’s grown so much since the first chapter and Horikoshi is only setting up the series more to have him grow much more and I’m excited to see how much more he grows as the series progresses. He is such a good character that is well balanced and realistic and such and I know for myself personally that I really relate to him in a lot of ways. Truth be told, it makes me actually really incredibly sad when people dismiss his reasoning for being a hero or when people just write him off as a cry baby because there’s so much more to him than just that. His reasoning to be a hero is realistic and deep enough, his emotions are realistic, his psychological issues that he faced with in the beginning shows his strength tremendously.

 Izuku is one of the best main characters and I’m so happy all of us were blessed with him on this wonderful day! Yay!!! Happy Birthday Deku!!!

 Tldr; Izuku’s face appears when you look up the definition of what a friend and a hero is.

anonymous asked:

What if Stiles and Derek's first kiss is post-nogitsune? Would he feel like a thief? Would he mourn the body that Derek never held? Would each brush of fingertips or kiss to his temple be a betrayal? They'd probably talk about the scars too. Derek would understand-- to an extent. But he grew up not without his history on his skin so he'll never understand how it feels to have that ripped away.

Their lips brush and Stiles turns away a second later, breaths shallow, hands twitching against the folds of Derek’s shirt. There’s warm breath on his cheek, the ghost of beard still so close and all Stiles can think is that he wants this. He wants this. And…

It’s wrong.

Those fingers, twitching against Derek’s shirt, smooth and uncalloused. The scar that used to live above his third knuckle just a burn-hot memory in his mind.

Everything still feels off in his body, out of balance, and he remembers the way Derek used to look at him. All tension and frustration in ways he couldn’t start to make sense of. And now Derek’s lips are in reach, a short turn away, and he’s murmuring out “Stiles…?” and all Stiles can think is…

“Do you want me?”

He can feel the stall in Derek’s thoughts like a physical reaction, and he wonders if there was a subtle tell or if… if he’d just felt it, inside, the confusion a flicker of chaos in Derek’s chest. Can he do that? Feel chaos? The Nogitsune drank it in and Stiles…

“Stiles,” Derek breathes again, a quirk of amusement in his tone. Thumbs smooth down his hips and Stiles fights the urge to rise into the contact. “Thought I’d just answered that question.”

And Stiles could leave it at that, asked and answered. Except…

There should be a scar on his hip, long and thin, from a fence he’d scaled once and dropped down five times faster. Derek should be feeling that right now, that piece of Stiles’ history, that stupid ten year old adventure laid out across his skin. But the skin’s smooth. Blank slate.

He shivers, gripping tighter into Derek’s shirt.

“No, I––” He can’t think of how to explain it. The thoughts are a choked feeling in his throat, a twist in his gut. Something like guilt and fear and he doesn’t even know what answer he wants when he leans back enough to find Derek’s eyes and say: “Since when? Did you… I mean, before…”

He’s not sure Derek knows what he means, but there’s a hint of flush under that dark beard suddenly, and Stiles gets a little bit lost in the contrast.

“Last summer.”

“Last––?” It pulls Stiles back, his eyes startling up. That was… most of a year, that was before…

A sick lurch sets him falling back out of Derek’s grip. Too-smooth fingers (uncalloused) slip too easy from Derek’s chest. His sneaker-covered feet might as well be walking over glass and he’s being dramatic except that he’s really not. Because if Derek wanted him last summer…

“That wasn’t me.” It sounds wrong as he says it, stupid, because… he was there that summer. He remembers every moment spent with Derek, researching the Alphas, searching for hints of Boyd and Erica. Charged smirks and snark and quiet moments that felt more comfortable than they should. He remembers the moments before summer too, when the thought of Derek made his heart pound and his body thrum in a way that could have only meant fear, except it hadn’t only been fear. He’d been scared of the Alpha too, and the hunters, and that coil of electric heat only sparked through his gut for Derek. He remembers that, like he remembers the scars that aren’t there anymore, and he can’t help running his too-soft fingertips over the smooth flesh of his knuckle as he breathes out, faint and lost, “…Was that me?”

There’s a too long pause while the question burns back into his throat, buzzing through his limbs like a current until he realizes he’s shaking from them. Was that him? Helping Derek track the Alpha pack? Helping Scott learn to control his wolf? Sitting by his mom’s hospital bed, watching her lose the long war to her illness, pieces of her flaking away like old scars, like a whole identity, like––

A warm hand closes over his, large and gentle, grounding.

“It was you,” Derek says, simply. Like there’s no question, like nothing’s changed. Like Stiles hasn’t changed. 

But that’s wrong. He’s not the same person he was before the Nogitsune, and he’s not talking in the experiences change you, huh kind of way. He’d had scars before. He’d had… a whole life written on his skin. And then he’d crawled out from inside his possessed body’s throat, spawned out like some alien parasite or… clone and––

“My body died, back there.” Four months past, and he still can’t wrap his head around it. That he’d watched himself bitten and impaled, spasm and cracking and shatter to dust.

The scarred body. His real body.

And he was left in… this.

Long fingers uncurl, stretching out slow. Thin, pale digits fitting strangely perfect between Derek’s, and Stiles can only wonder what it would have looked like before.

“…What if I’m not real?” He watches Derek’s fingers twitch, barely perceptible, tightening like they’re fighting to hold onto him. And Derek’s lost enough in his life, too much. It’s a dick move to say this, to take anything else away from him, but… “What if the guy you wanted last summer… what if he died inside the Nogitsune, and I’m just––”

No.”

The sureness of it has Stiles’ throat clenching. He tilts his head, challenging. Finds Derek’s eyes again.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Which is just… it’s stupid how that makes Stiles’ heart jump. Flutter around like it’s fighting to leap the distance between them and plaster itself all up against Derek’s stupid, muscled, secretly sweet as hell chest.

Which… yeah, that’s nearly a gross enough visual to stomp his fondness boner in the bud. He sets his jaw.

“Did you know I used to have a scar on––”

“Your right hand? Just above the third knuckle, a burn.”

Stiles’ argument stalls out. He blinks, finger shifting to rub over the space, but Derek’s is already there, soothing the phantom mark over his skin.

“I… was eleven.” Because silence has never been safe for him. Because noise distracts from the too-easy pleasure rippling up his arm. “First time I tried cooking dinner for me and dad. Mac and cheese, it… didn’t go great.” He wets his lips. Looks away “Or… the other me did, I don’t––”

You did.” And Derek still sounds so damn sure. Stiles wants to believe him. He parts his lips, can’t. Because––

“Stiles, I’ve never had scars on my skin. I… can’t relate to what it’s like to lose them. But the things that have happened to me… they’re not any less real because I can’t see them. Every bullet, cut, punch I’ve taken…” He might sense the wince forming on Stiles’ face, and shakes his head, shrugging that off like it’s not important. But that’s an argument for another day. “Every scar life gave you… they’re still there. You’re still carrying them, inside you.” He flits his eyes down Stiles’ frame, then away, finger soothing over the ghost burn. “There are plenty no one would have ever seen anyway. But they made you. Who you are, and who you are…” He shakes his head, looks back to meet Stiles’ eyes squarely. “You recognized me when I was a teenager. That’s the same person who recognized me in the preserve.” Stiles feels his face heat because… even knowing Derek’s a werewolf now, he’d never put together that Derek would have heard his fangirl moment to Scott after Derek had walked away.

Before he can speak up, though, Derek’s going on. “You tracked me to Mexico. Faced down the Calaveras to save me. That’s the same person who stared down the Argents, drove a Jeep into a kanima, who hit an Alpha with a wooden baseball bat––”

“Two Alphas,” Stiles cuts in, because props, ok? “Two, that were…” His free hand mimes squishing, and Derek’s lips twitch.

“Two,” he agrees, and Stiles can’t not smile back. Just for a second –– fond, helpless –– then he’s ducking his head. Derek sighs, catches his chin. Guides it up until their gazes lock again.

“That was you,” he says, so firmly Stiles can’t help believing this time. “Was the man who clawed his way out of his own possession. Followed Scott’s howl back to the real world. And whatever happened to your body, whatever… magic gave you a new one, Stiles came out with it. Your scars are still there, just…” His fingers trail to Stiles’ chest, and something thumps out eagerly to meet them.

“Inside,” Stiles breathes, and the way Derek’s eyes warm makes him shiver with a proud ripple of pleasure.

“Inside,” Derek echoes. Runs a thumb light along Stiles’ lip. “You could have come out of the Nogitsune looking like anything. Wouldn’t change who you are.”

And damn, Stiles has fallen for a goddamn poet in a grumpy wolf’s body. …But then, Stiles is pretty sure he’d known that already.

His fingers go up, curl gently into Derek’s shirt.

“But… you like this body,” he prompts, and Derek gives an exasperated huff, pulling him in.

“I like this body,” he confirms, and it doesn’t feel wrong to hear that.

When Derek kisses him this time, Stiles doesn’t pull away.

so i just saw falsettos in theaters and here is everything awesome i managed to remember
  • Trina wears a small silver star of david necklace throughout the whole show
  • Whizzer has such intense anxiety during “This Had Better Come to Stop” that he is just wringing his hands like crazy, and this anxious habit follows him noticeably through the rest of his solos
  • During “March of the Falsettos”, the pit was tossing blocks up to Andrew Rannells and he screams “HIT ME” as he catches one and then goes “HIT ME TWO TIMES” as he catches another
  • After Jason’s torah portion at the makeshift hospital bar mitzvah, Whizzer grabs his shoulder, looks him in the eye, and whispers “Thank you” before walking out for the last time
  • Marvin was essentially crying throughout the entire second act including: choking up during “Days Like This”, laugh-crying during “Unlikely Lovers”, when Charlotte pulls him aside to tell him Whizzer is gonna die, trying to hold back tears during “Jason’s Bar Mitzvah”, and trying to belt through tears during “What Would I Do?” 
  • Christian Borle and Andrew Rannells do such an AMAZING job at changing their emotions on a literal dime during the chess game scene
  • The crazy raw emotion in “I Never wanted to love you” from each and every character
  • On that same note, Marvin’s FUCKING FACE after he hits Trina was so brilliant and like, immediately regretful and so full of emotion i wanna cry just thinking about it again
  • On ANOTHER note, after Whizzer answers do I love him with “No”, there’s a whole like 20 second pause before the music starts up again where everyone is just dead silent 
  • Whizzer was literally crying through the entirety of “Days Like This” as everyone kept gathering around him telling him everything was gonna be ok
  • During the first act Marvin was scary. Like his aggression in the recording does not do his character justice because it is so much more intense live
  • Every time Charlotte and Cordelia entered frame, the theater cheered obscenely loud (myself included)
  • All of Trina’s solos were brilliant and i swear to god Stephanie J. Block makes that stage her god damn bitch
  • WHIZZER IS CRYING THROUGH “You Gotta Die Sometime”. EVERY WORD. 
  • During the “Falsettoland (Reprise) the mic picks up Marvin audibly sobbing as he walks away from Whizzer’s grave
  • While Jason is reciting his torah portion during the bar mitzvah, Trina is standing behind him mouthing the words to the verse 
  • EVERYONE’S FACIAL EXPRESSIONS WERE OFF THE CHARTS
  • “I’m Breaking Down” got the most applause in my theater out of any number, and my grandma said that it truly “stole the show" 
  • Trina and Mendel are sleeping on each other and are so adorable when Marvin storms in and wakes them up before “Marvin Hits Trina” cause they start blinking and rubbing their eyes like someone just turned all the lights on in the middle of the night
  • You can literally see the freckles on Christian Borle’s chest during “What More Can I Say?” that’s how clear it is
  • The relationship between Mendel and Jason was so cute and there were so many great choreographic parallels of the two of them throughout the whole show. Like just the two of them siting together or dancing together or just being a part from the rest of the family 
  • The entire cast having to dance around using the words fuck and shit
  • Charlotte’s hair was just amazing
Come Back to Me (Part Six)

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: Yes
Genre: Angstish
Warnings: None

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Originally posted by stallingdemons

Peter and you had pretended that what you had been calling in your head “The Incident” never happened. He never repeated the words of “I always worry about you”, you never held his arm in your grip for more than a mere few seconds, he never cradled your face with his hands, and you never realized you loved him. To the two of you, it was like the day never existed.

You both moved on, acting as you normally would, but you were much more conscious of your actions. You thought Peter was, too. You didn’t act on impulse and grab his arm, or hand, or lean into him without thinking. And he didn’t leave you with small touches as he walked past you in the hallway, or ask constantly with a blatant worried expression how you were doing.

And you didn’t mind. You were best friends, not lovers. You didn’t mind.

“What’s up with you and Peter?” Ned suddenly appeared next to you as you stood in line to get on the bus, ready for the school field trip to take up the day of classes.

“I- what?” You asked, looking at him confusedly. You weren’t sure why he was asking this.

“You and Peter. You guys have been acting weird around each other lately. What happened?”

You still looked at him, confused. “Nothing happened. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you tell him you liked him or something, because-”

“Shhh!” You hushed him immediately, placing your hands over his mouth. “Someone could hear you!”

He grabbed your wrists, removing them from his mouth, but still holding onto them. “Just tell him already,” he said, quieter this time.

“You know I can’t do that, Ned,” you replied back, furrowing your eyebrows.

You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

You tried to push the thought out of your mind, and you had been trying to do so ever since “The Incident”. But with the words continuously repeating in your head, day in and day out, you didn’t think they would ever leave.

“I think-”

“Hey guys,” you heard Peter’s voice from behind you and whipped your head towards him, worried about how much of the conversation he had heard. As you and Ned both looked at him, he met neither of your eyes. His were trained one where Ned’s hands were clasped around your wrists.

You turned your eyes back to look at Ned, and both of your eyes widened when you realized what Peter was staring at. He let you rip your wrists from his grasp, and he shoved his hands into his pockets after letting yours go. You looked down at the ground nervously. 

“What’s up?” Ned spoke, looking at Peter. You took a few seconds to compose yourself before looking at him too. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked between the two of you.

“Uh, nothing, I just,” he didn’t look either of you in the eye. “Ned, want to sit with me on the bus?”

You bit your lip. You remembered that you and Peter had agreed to sit on the bus together just last week. You didn’t say anything when Ned said, “Sure.”

You looked down at the ground as Ned moved in front of you to stand next to Peter, and you were stood behind them as they spoke in lightning speed between them. That was never how it was with you and Peter. The two of you would speak slowly, listening intently to each other’s words to not miss even a detail of what was said. 

You liked it that way. You liked how Peter would furrow his eyebrows lightly, biting his lip as he stared at you, looking as if he was concentrating to all of his ability, solely on you. You liked how he would murmur little “mhm”s as you would go on, and he would only start speaking when he was sure you were done. You liked how he listened to you.

It was a vast difference from seeing him now, and you wondered which way he preferred: fast-paced with Ned, or slow-paced with you. You always thought he preferred how he spoke with you, but now, seeing him grin with Ned as they easily threw words back at each other within seconds, you weren’t so sure.

You looked down at the ground sadly. You never remembered feeling so lonely before, especially with Peter always making sure to include you in everything. You turned around and walked out of the line without saying anything to the two boys who seemed to not even notice you leave. You glanced behind your shoulder as you were walking away, but you were only greeted by the sight of Peter still grinning at Ned.

“Hey, (Y/N),” you heard a voice say ahead of you and you looked up to see Michelle waiting in line, a few people back from where you previously stood, with a book in her hands.

“Oh, hey,” you forced a smile on your face, but the only thought that was bombarding your mind was, 

You love him. He doesn’t love you. You love him. He doesn’t love you.

“Want to sit with me?” She asked, a knowing smile on her face. You gave her a real smile in response, moving into the space next to her.

“Thanks, MJ,” you said softly, head leaning back down to aim at the floor.

“He looked back at you,” she said, opening her book and beginning to read it. She stared down at it as you lifted your head to stare at her.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Peter,” she elaborated, and your heart sped up at the mention of his name.

You needed to get this under control.

“What about Peter?” You asked, looking ahead of the line at him and Ned, where you saw them still talking.

“He looked back at you when you turned around and came my way.”

Your eyes widened the smallest bit. You didn’t want to believe her words so easily, because for all you could know, she was only telling you this to cheer you up. But still, you found your sadness deflate slightly.

“No, he didn’t,” you said, trying to convince yourself. “I turned around and looked. He was still talking to Ned.”

“Right when you turned around and started walking away,” she said. She was still looking at her book, but you weren’t so sure she was actually reading it. “He looked at you for a second. And when you turned around to look at him, he turned back around to Ned.” 

“I, uh,” you stumbled over your words, not quite knowing what to think.

Why hadn’t he said anything? You and Peter would always be immediate to speak up if noticing something was wrong with the other. Neither of you ever hesitated on that. So why had he today?

“He looked at me,” you said monotonously, but Michelle knew it was a question. She knew you needed to hear it again.

“He looked at you,” she replied. She looked up from her book for a few moments to meet your eyes. “He looked a little worried to me, if I’m being honest.” She quirked her eyebrow at you for a quick second, smirking lightly, before looking back down at her book.

You looked back down to the ground, thinking.

But why didn’t he say anything?

***************************
I know it may seem like it’s taking a while for them to get together (or will they end up together?), but I want to make sure it’s realistic enough. After being friends for years, neither of them would want to chance ruining their friendship so easily by confessing after not being completely sure about themselves—and each other—yet. I hope you guys understand that! Let me know what you guys think of this one and voice your opinions! Whether they’re good or bad, I want to hear them! Requests are open, and if you guys want to send something from a prompt list I reblog, please let me know which list you’re asking from!

~e

dating peter parker would include...

dedicated to my harrison bestie anon in hopes it makes them smile :) also yes it’s really fuckin long i’m sorry i just love peter parker and have a lot of feelings

  • you actually hate to tell the story of how you two met because it’s mortifiying oh mygod
  • peter, however, loves to watch u blush about it even though it was only really embarrassing when it happened
  • taking the subway to school like every other day, you obviously had spent too many hours on the internet so u were tired as hell 
  • so tired you couldn’t grab the pole in time when the subway stopped
  • and you in an ungraceful manner, tripped, stumbled and fell
  • into his lap
  • his l a p 
  • you still get red cheeks when remember just how embarrassing it was
  • oh my god! i c-can’t believe that- i-i, i’m so so sorry- h-holy shit–
  • peter did find it extremely awkward but your mortified and blushing red face was so much more adorable 
  • n-no, it’s fine– d-do you want my seat?
  • o-oh no, it’s alright. i’d just like to crawl into a hole somewhere. sudden amnesia works too.
  • AND BOY
  • a cute girl with wit and oh my is that a nerdy shirt????
  • from them on, you had his entire heart 
  • yes i will totally be writing a full on imagine for this
  • you guys weren’t friends for long if u know what i mean 
  • like you had already face planted into his lap so you skipped most of the awkward interactions
  • you were kinda like ‘ah what the hell’ 
  • you did it while you guys were walking home together, like usual
  • hey peter, can you hold this for me?
  • yeah?” 
  • and you just grabbed his hand, grinning at him with wink 
  • cue the cutest blushing from peter 
  • peter goddamn nearly had a heart attack but couldn’t stop smiling the entire walk home 
  • he was really sad when he reached your building 
  • but then you stood on ur tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek so he wasn’t that sad
  • eventually kisses on the cheeks became kisses on the lips & it wasn’t official but you two just knew
  • let’s be real, peter is the worlds biggest dork so movie marathons are so common
  • i mean everything– star wars, back to the future, jurassic park, like man you name it 
  • and if u were a nerd too, then oH boy he would just be in a constant state of heart eyes 
  • he would be anyways but extra heart eyes if u geek out
  • c’mon pete, hurry that cute lil ass up! it’s rogue one!!
  • oh my god, please marry me right now.
  • you guys definitely try to quote movies as much as possible
  • i love you” ”i know *intense blushing* diD YOU JUST–
  • he has a such soft spot for when you guys marathon disney movies not that he tells you that
  • something about you lighting up & singing along makes him go !!!!!!! inside
  • no you two never perform disney duet songs together never ever have you done that why do u ask
  • (your favourite one to perform is hakuna matata because its a goddamn classic and peter gets so into it)
  • (breaking free from hsm is a close second because damn can peter hit those notes when he really tries)
  • peter parker is such an admirer like you dont even know
  • he could stare at you for hours and its pretty much what gets him through the day tbh
  • in fact, he has all your birthmarks and freckles committed to memory because shes so pretty i can’t deal with this
  • he blushes SO MUCH when you catch him staring
  • but lets be real, you were staring at him too
  • he blushed even more when he found that out because oh my fucking god she was staring at me do i look weird is there something on my face
  • but when you’re like no you goof, i’m admiring youu get 
  • BLUSHING STUTTERING STAMMERING PETER PARKER
  • he just never stops blushing 
  • he! would! try! so! hard! at everything 4 you
  • baking? hell yeah he’ll bake for u
  • singing? eh he’ll give it a go (but only for you)  
  • dancing? he hates it but he loves to watch u laugh and smile with him so he does it anyways (even if he sucks)
  • speaking of dancing
  • peter loves it when u dance
  • especially when you stay over and he wakes up to you dancing around the kitchen or his room 
  • his favourite is catching you off guard when you’re grooving to some 80′s song
  • babe– cutting himself off with his own laughter, i don’t think that’s dancing.
  • he loves to tease you about your funky dancing because seeing his girl blushing is like his second favourite thing
  • (the first being your smile because it completely melts his insides and everything is better when you smile at him)
  • you also love it when he’s teasing because all you have is pout and suddenly peter’s showering you in kisses 
  • peter is such a sucker for kisses
  • actually he’s such a hopeless romantic & lover of cliches like
  • constantly bringing you flowers he finds on nightly patrols? check 
  • stopping so you two can share a cutesy kiss in the rain? check 
  • dumb pick up lines that still make you laugh? check 
  • tbh you both do pickup lines
  • hey, hey y/n, are you the square root of -1? because you can’t be real 
  • are you kIDDING– NO I’M NOT BLUSHING AT YOUR DUMB PICK UP LINE GO AWAY PARKER
  • he just giggles at you from the bed
  • except when you do it, its a different story
  • hey hey hey, peter 
  • hmm?” 
  • are you related to yoda? because yodalicious.
  • peter just falls off the bed 
  • you don’t even ask if he’s alright, you just cut straight to laughing at his reaction
  • s-shut up! this isn’t because of your pick up line!! i was startled! 
  • even though he’s trying to hide his face in a pillow, you can see his pink cheeks
  • sure, peter, sure. 
  • aunt may is both a blessing and a curse to both of you 
  • because she spills BOTH OF YOUR SECRETS
  • like you can’t ramble to her about peter because she will tell him everything
  • with you in the same room 
  • oh peter, you’re wearing that shirt? i know y/n loves it, she was talking just the other day about how she find it so hot– 
  • “MAY HE DOESN’T NEED TO KNOW”
  • peter secretly really wants to know what you said about him 
  • but aunt may does it to peter too and he hates it
  • “seriously y/n, you should hear the things he says about you, i swear he’s turned into some lovesick–”
  • “nO MAY SHH YOU CAN STOP NOW”
  • makeout sessions ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
  • you both l o v e them 
  • funnily enough, peter is the one who usually starts them 
  • hey y/n, you’ve got something on your face, let me just– *kisses you all over you face*
  • because he’s more than ahead in his classes, ‘study dates’ really means makeout not that you mind though  
  • peter loves kisses everywhere
  • forehead kisses
  • nose kisses
  • shoulder kisses
  • eyelid kisses
  • back of the hand kisses
  • all the kisses
  • his absolute favourite kiss is the one he receives from you in the morning when you’ve stayed over
  • he’ll play with your hair softly and you’ll yawn & stretch and catch him gazing at you 
  • and you just smile and lean up and kiss him 
  • it never fails to make peters heart stop and when you pull away he just goes nooooooooooooo and pouts till you kiss him again 
  • it’s especially hard when you have to leave or part ways after school because peter turns into a needy lil boy
  • one more kiss! one more! 
  • peter you’ve said that seven times now!! 
  • you literally have to push his away, giggling and grinning, because otherwise he’s going to be late 
  • i swear to god parker, it’s only one class! 
  • and of course you know about him being spidey
  • you actually found out by accident 
  • you were searching thru his closest for something to wear when you stumbled across it 
  • tbh you thought it was a really dedicated costume at first
  • so you put it on and it was so fucking baggy man
  • hey peter! look at me, i’m the spider man! thwip thwip! 
  • except it was the real thing so 
  • y-y/n!! where did you find that??? 
  • don’t worry, i’ll keep your spider-man obsession a secret, peter.
  • but when you accidentally web peter’s hand to the wall, you figure out this suit is the real deal 
  • holy shit!! holy shit! you– you’re, this is the real, oh my god, you’re the spider-man!  
  • peter just panics because you’ve webbed him to the wall and he can’t actually do anything
  • no! no i’m not!
  • you freak out for like another minute before you gather your senses enough 
  • peter parker, do not play with me right now- are you spider-man?
  • would you believe me if i said it was a very detailed halloween costume?
  • after cutting him free, you squeezed him into the tightest hug because you were so goddamn proud of him 
  • but also because oh my god how many times had he risked his life and had you not known???? 
  • oh my god, this is so wicked i can’t believe you’re spider-man–
  • you can’t tell anyone! 
  • shh, you know i wouldn’t but holy god! you have to tell me everything
  • you’re not mad i didn’t tell you?” 
  • pfft, i’ll only be mad if you don’t tell me now.
  • yes i also want to make this an imagine
  • yes, you’re the one who patches him up which always ends in cuddles
  • basically you get to shower peter in constant love and affection because he would do that and more for you 
  • he’s just the perfect boyfriend??? 
  • i want a peter parker

bashfyl  asked:

*incoherent screaming* You opened prompts! Sterek: Not yet together sterek. The idea is a bath and Stiles how did you get that there?!? Thank you.

Taking Sterek Prompts | Filling Prompts Live

———

“Are you going to get in?” Stiles asked, peeling out of his last shirt, his words a little slurry around the edges. “In a- a- a-” He paused, trying rather unsuccessfully to shake his hand free of his sleeve. He started laughing uncontrollably and collapsed to the floor to work on his shoes. “The water, are you?”

“No,” Derek groused, pointedly not looking when Stiles flopped onto his back and began to shimmy out of his soaked pants. Black slime coated almost every square inch of the floor. “This is your bath, not mine.”

“Mine,” Stiles echoed, now just lying on the floor in a puddle of black, his pale skin coated head to foot in the gunk. “This is not my house.”

“Yes,” Derek agreed, as patiently as he could, checking the water’s temperature before turning off the tap. It had to be extra hot to affect the stuff. “This is the clinic.”

Deaton had explained that even minimal contact with the ichorous substance gave a contact high. Stiles had been practically drenched in the stuff when they had killed it. Luckily it was not deadly or even toxic- which was the problem. Someone had been keeping the creature as a pet, drawing out the fluid and selling it, and it had escaped three days ago to wreak havoc.

Very, very unfortunately, Derek had drawn the short straw for ensuring Stiles got cleaned up and came down from the high safely. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were taking care of disposal of the body while Scott and Allison swung by Allison’s house to return weapons and report to her father. Deaton had been kind enough - or perhaps had enough self preservation - to give Derek the key to the clinic so he could get Stiles washed up away from his father’s questions.

“Come on,” Derek said gently, slipping from the edge of the tub to crouch at Stiles’ side. It was, he reflected, a very good thing that werewolves were not susceptible to the substance’s effects. “You gotta get cleaned up.” The effects wouldn’t wear off until every drop of the ichor was gone.

Stiles lifted his head, looking all the way down his lean form. “Oh, no, no that’s too far,” he told Derek, head falling back with an audible clunk he was probably going to feel in a few hours. “Wow, this is the best floor ever. Do you think I could take it home with me?”

“No,” Derek said with a sigh. Looked like this was going to have to be the hard way. He shifted, kneeling beside Stiles, and grabbed at his wrists to haul him up.

Despite that they slipped and slid a bit, Derek managed to get a very naked Stiles upright and across the three feet to the tub. For a second Stiles stood very still, holding tightly onto the edge of it like he was going to resist going in. Then he tipped forward and faceplanted directly into the basin so quickly Derek had to scramble to keep him from drowning.

“Hoooooo!!!!” Stiles shouted the second his mouth was above the surface, water sluicing away the ichor clinging to his skin. “It’s hot, Derek! This is really hot, why is it so hot? Oh my god, I’m melting!” He started grabbing at the black liquid coming off his skin.

Closing his eyes, Derek counted to three. Then five. Then ten, for good measure, and when he opened them again, Stiles had fallen very, very still and was staring wide eyed into the middle distance. It was not exactly an improvement, but at least he’d stopped thrashing, slopping water and ichor all over the floor and flinging it onto the walls and- and was that- on the ceiling?

“Stiles, how did you- you know what, nevermind,” Derek grumbled, reaching for the spray nozzle.

This setup was supposed to be for cleaning dogs, but it would work just as well for ornery, tripping humans. He began to run the spray over Stiles’ hair, watching the black give way to brown. When the tub had filled completely, Derek pulled the plug and let it drain. Diluted like this with water, it wouldn’t hurt the general populace; at worst, they’d all have a really good day soon.

Stiles’ eyes slid closed, and he relaxed into the gentle touches Derek used to turn him this way and that, to get at the last of the ichor still clinging to strange places like inside of his ears and between his fingers and- well, at least Stiles was unlikely to remember any of this very well tomorrow.

By the time he had gotten the last of it, Stiles had turned to putty in his hands, making a soft, pleasant humming noise that might have been purring on a cat. Derek swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. He still needed to get Stiles someplace to wait out the high, and get this place cleaned up so no one else would be affected.

Difficult to think of anything beyond the way Stiles pressed himself into Derek’s touches. “Feels good,” Stiles murmured, unwilling or unable to keep his eyes open. “You should touch me more.”

“Tomorrow,” Derek mumbled back, prodding Stiles to his feet. The floor was still covered in ichor, so Derek just leaned over and scooped a completely unresisting Stiles into his arms. Immediately, Stiles looped his own arms around Derek’s neck and burrowed his nose against Derek’s shoulder. “If you still want me to touch you tomorrow, I will.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed muzzily.

He wouldn’t remember. No one else had. Still…

He allowed himself a small smile, and a measure of hope. Stiles had never been one for following the rules, after all.

Cheerleading IS a sport | JJ

Request: a dom!jungkook smut when y/n is a cheerleader and he is like the player of the sport and yeah they could like have the fun in the changing room~

Pairing: Dom!Jungkook, Football!Jungkook X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Y/n, best flyer on the cheerleading squad. Jungkook, best kicker and scorer on the football team. What will happen when things get heated between the two all because of something that he just spilled out of his mouth.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Smut

Warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, Dominant!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, hospital handjob, cocky asshole Jungkook

Word Count: 3k+

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Dance With Me

Summary: You and your boyfriend Peter Parker listen to Peter’s favorite song.

AN: I FELT THE NEED TO WRITE THIS OUT OF NOWHERE BECAUSE THE INFINITY WAR TRAILER MADE ME SAD AND I’M PRETTY SURE IT MADE EVERYONE ELSE SAD TOO SO HERE’S A SHORT FLUFFY PIECE TO HELP US FORGET THE ANGST 

also listen to never let her slip away by andrew gold when you read this it’s a beautiful song <3

Peter Parker x Reader

// Masterlist // 


Originally posted by parkers-myth

“You are going to hurt yourself!” I warned my idiotic boyfriend as he did handstands around his room.

“You worry too much, babe!” He screamed, still upside down. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his phone on the bed. I unlocked it and saw a picture of him kissing me on the cheek as his wallpaper. Smiling, I saw that his music app was open. “Ow! Damnit Ned left a part of his Death Star here.” 

I looked up and saw Peter, now right side up, clutching his hand with a lone Lego piece beside him. “Told you you were gonna get hurt.” I went back to scrolling through his playlist.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, huh?” The bed suddenly bounced when Peter flopped down on it. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder watching me scroll.

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anonymous asked:

Maybe Dark!Annabeth fighting a child of the big three and she knows that defeating them with physical, raw power isn't possible, so she attacks mentally. She defeats them with words, something Annabeth constantly does throughout the books to her enemies. Making them so angry, distracted, and/or sad that they lose focus and she easily takes the victory.

Annabeth feels him coming before she sees him.

There’s a charge in the air. A gathering static that threatens to strike with every movement she makes, but never quite gets the guts to do so.

That’s Jason Grace for you. Son of Jupiter, chosen of Juno, and just a touch too soft to do what needs to be done. Oh sure, he’ll kill monsters if he needs to, but when the monsters are gods, his solution is to become a priest.

It’s about finding a compromise, he’d said. And making sure that we’re heard.

Annabeth’s finding there are better ways of making noise.

“You got here faster than I expected,” she remarks as he touches down in front of her. She’s perched on the crumbling remnants of a wall that’s thousands of years old. Some small, distant part of her regrets what is about to happen here, but not enough to change course.

“Your pattern’s getting old,” he says. His gladius is out and he holds it warily between them. Annabeth keeps her drakonbone sword at her side. “The others can hold Percy off long enough for me to stop what you’re doing.”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re the only one coming?”

He tries to hide his grimace, but that’s the danger with fighting your friends. They can read you too well, and a smile curls over Annabeth’s mouth at the confirmation. She hops off the wall, landing lightly on the dirt.

“What made you think I’d be at Pompeii?”

Lightning crackles in the sky overhead, raising the small hairs at the back of her neck. He nods at the scaffolding in the distance, empty of workers this early in the morning. It’s a grim dawn, about to get darker.

“No tourists today. You might’ve turned against the gods, Annabeth, but you’re not a murderer.”

Isn’t she? Annabeth has lost count of the number of monsters she’s put in the ground (under the ground). How many demigods died in the war with Kronos? They bleed red the same as mortals, and her hands are as stained as anyone’s.

So are Jason’s, and irritation pricks at her face. She smooths it away with a cool smile, carefully tracking him as he starts to circle her. She has a certain amount of faith in Jason’s willingness to ‘save’ his friends, but she’s not an idiot.

“So I should start picking locations with people if I don’t want you to interfere, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s obviously not what I’m saying.” His gaze flickers over the ruins stretching behind her. “So this is all rigged to blow, huh?”

“Leo does good work.”

He winces. He can play on whatever friendship the two of them might have had all he likes, but that betrayal is the real knife in the guts and they both know it. Annabeth coerces her expression into concern, the cogs of her brain turning the right muscles to give it the realism it needs. She takes a half step forward, and Jason doesn’t step away.

“He misses you, you know.” Her voice is a soft thing. Caring. “Misses both of you.”

“If he misses us so bad, he should come and see us.”

“You really think we’re going to be welcome at Camp after all this?

“You haven’t killed anyone.”

The yet sits between us, and it doesn’t matter anyway. The gods would be more likely to forgive her if she had killed someone. They could have murdered thousands of mortals and not been struck down, if they’d just done it far away from the last vestiges of godly power in this world.

Gaea had plotted to bring down Mt Olympus, and that’s definitely on Annabeth’s list. But she’s always been a methodical sort of girl, and divine power runs deep. Best to stamp out all traces of it, one relic at a time.

She sighs. “We don’t plan to. You know that.”

“You’re trying to kill the gods!” Lightning cracks again, closer now. It takes more strength than Annabeth wants to admit to to avoid reaching for her weapon.

“And how many times have they tried to kill us? At best they don’t give a shit, Jason, you know that.”

But he’s shaking his head. They’ve had this fight before, all of them, enough times that she could probably just record it for him to save energy. He’s long since stopped listening to sense, and she doesn’t bother with more than a cursory attempt to convince him.

“You’re too late for this one,” she says. “I’m proud of you for getting here before it blows, but you were right. It’s ready to go.”

His grip shifts on his sword. And - there’s something in his expression that prompts her to brace for an attack, because it’s not defeat. This time, she thinks. This time might be the one where I push too far.

It’s sad, sort of, but relief swamps that soon enough. It’s not that she wants to fight old friends, but it would make everything a lot simpler. To just be able to fight, without caring what happens to them anymore. To draw battlelines instead of blurring them

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growls. “But even if the rest of your team is ready to destroy this place, they’ll stop once you’re a hostage.”

Annabeth laughs. It’s a miscalculation, but she can’t help herself. “The others might. But hell itself couldn’t keep Percy Jackson from me, Jason, and you’re no Tartarus.”

“I can deal with Percy.”

He can’t. She wonders idly if he knows that. Everyone’s aware of Percy’s power these days, but that’s what he’s like with her at his side. Jason, she suspects, still has a little too much optimism left about what Percy’s self control would be like without her. What it would be like if he even thought she was in danger.

“Right, well, that’ll be your mistake to live with.” She squints up at the sky, trying to judge her next play. Being a hostage would accelerate certain things that she’s not ready to set into motion just yet. Most of all, she doesn’t think that Percy is quite as ready to fight the others as she is.

Not yet.

“You made a miscalculation,” she said finally. “You always want to go for the biggest player, Jason. It’s one of your biggest weaknesses.”

“You can’t talk your way out of this, Annabeth.” His body moves, and she can almost trace the lines in the air, the familiar forms he’s about to slide into. “You’re coming back to Camp wth me.”

He lifts his blade, wreathed in lightning. She smells ozone on the air, the threat of violence wafting in behind it. She clasps her hands behind her back, and lays down her hand.

“Where’s Piper, Jason?”

Everything stops. Nature itself holds its breath as those too-blue eyes widen in sheer panic, before narrowing at her.

“Piper’s your friend. You wouldn’t hurt her.”

Annabeth waits. She doesn’t need to say anything. The silence between them does it for her. The even sound of her breathing. The shroud of absolute confidence holding her shoulders straight.

You are not going to take me, her body says, like it’s all a foregone conclusion.

“She can handle herself,” he tries again, and there’s the edge of desperation that she’s been waiting for. Enough to cloud his thinking. He might not think she’s a murderer, but there are other atrocities. Things she hasn’t held back from in the opening numbers of this new war.

“Against Percy?”

That’s a risk. Because they both know that Percy isn’t steady, isn’t stable, that his relationship with Piper had been tenuous at best and that without Annabeth there, his temper might just get away with him. Piper has her Charmspeak, but there are ways around everything if you have enough power.

It’s a risk, because Jason’s anger could always outweigh his fear. He could always take it out on her rather than fly off for Piper. Annabeth is confident in her ability to take him with a sword, but Jason comes with all those bonus add-ons that children of Athena just aren’t privy to.

So she gives him one last push. Just to make sure.

“Tartarus has so many doors,” she says softly. That same quiet concern from before, turned deadly now. “You know we found all of them, right Jason?”

He spits a curse, something in Latin about the gods and what he hopes they’ll do to her. She watches him leap into the sky, shading her eyes against the rising sun until he’s no more than a dot in the distance.

“You say that like they haven’t already done their worst,” she murmurs, before turning back to the ruins.

There’s work to be done.

inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.

word count : 2.5k

   It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy. 

   Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.  

    “You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens. 

   You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

   “Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time. 

   “It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.” 

   He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand. 

   “You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face. 

   “Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now. 

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

    Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

   Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning. 

   “Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom. 

    He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again. 

   Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down. 

   “Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed. 

   “I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?” 

   “Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over. 

   “It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

   “Can you- um, well-” 

   You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him. 

    He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to- 

   His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did. 

   Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you. 


   Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion. 

   The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice. 

   “I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.” 

   “Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school. 

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

   Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!” 

   “Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream. 

   “This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!” 

   “Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.” 

   “Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”

   “You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.” 

    Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?” 

    “Anything’s possible!” 

    “The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.” 

    That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions. 

    “Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?” 

    Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips. 

   You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.” 

   “With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please- 

   “With Peter.” 

   The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared. 

   The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone. 

   “Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his. 

   “It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss. 

Gladio, Iggy and Noct are on their roadtrip when they come across a bunch of cars spread across the road
Battered and smoking
Some have been flipped over the barrier, people littering the ground as well as bodies of beasts and the black sludge that’s a telltale sign of demons

All the devastation converges on one car somewhat down the incline so they decided to check it out

Theyre almost on the car when a shot rings out and only Gladio’s quick reflexes saves them as he gets his shield out and up

‘W-who goes there??’

(Full story under the cut)

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To be foolish

Title: To be foolish

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Summary: Y/N has lived next to Peter since the 3rd grade and since has fallen hard for him, but Y/N doesn’t know he’s fallen just as hard.

Word count: 1,761

Songs: Slow Burn by Autograf

AN: So here’s part 2 of To be young! this part feels a little slow to me but I’m really excited about making the next part, so just bare with me lol. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

Heres Part 1: To be young

tagged@emrysaaryn@bubbles2428@dreaxs@marauder-lover@purecout-ure@therealme13posts , @tomllholland , @manyfandomstohandle

Originally posted by tomhollanderr



Its been about a week since Liz’s party happened and during that time Peter had completely started ignoring you, every time you sat by Peter he would get up and leave. In gym Ned and him started doing their stretches on the furthest part of the gym from you.

You were hurt. More then hurt actually, you felt broken. The guy of your dreams almost kissed you and now you could feel he regretted it, a lot. Hell he could barley even stand looking at you. Michelle finally spoke kicking you out of your horrid thoughts “Hey Y/N how ya holding up?” You felt her hand slowly rub your back in an attempt to comfort you. “Well MJ not very well, I’ve liked peter ever since he moved into that stupid apartment and when i finally got the chance to kiss him, he left me..” you paused looking up from the library table you’ve recently started coming to to seek comfort in being alone, “and he regrets it, he regrets trying to kiss me and won’t even do as much as give me the time of day.” Michelle’s hand dropped from your back and found their way onto your face and turned you to look at her. “Listen Y/N, maybe Peter has an explanation for all this.” She looked deep into your eyes feeling the sadness radiate off of you.

“Just maybe try talking to him?” she suggested pulling her hand away from your face. You sighed, she’s right i need to just woman up and talk to him instead of treating him like he is me. I need to be the mature one in this situation. You grabbed your books off of the table and made your way out of the library and towards Peters locker, Its almost the end of 6th period, the last period of the day.

The bell rang right as you made it to Peters locker and waited silently to confront the boy who made you feel broken, but he never came.

“Uh hey Ned?” you asked when you passed by him on your way to debate club, tired of waiting. Ned shut his locker and mad his way over to you with a smile on his face “Yeah whats up Y/N?” you felt a sick feeling over come you before asking whats on your mind, “Have yo-you seen Pete-Peter anywhere?” You stuttered out your question, averting your eyes from Ned’s suddenly feeling a gross kind of embarrassed over run your feeling of sickness. “No, actually i haven’t seen him since gym.” Ned replied as you two began to walk the same way towards the debate club. “Maybe he’ll be at the debate meeting today.” Ned said with a happy glint in his eyes, “How come you’re looking for him?” your heart drops into your stomach trying to think of something to say other than the truth, “We uh-we’re doing a project in chemistry together and i haven’t been able to get ahold of him.” You lie with a sick smile on your face, the lie seeming to convince Ned as you two walked through the doors of the gym to your now daily debate club meeting.

“Hey you two, hurry up and take your seats.” Liz spoke gleefully with a smile on her face before going back to asking questions to the 4 people sitting at tables on the small school stage for nationals that happen in 2 days.

You were getting settled into your seat next to MJ at the front table when you heard the door open to the small theater room open. You looked up from pulling your binder out of your backpack when you caught eyes with the beautiful chocolate ones that were so intimate with you just a week ago.

His gaze averted from yours making you feel guilty for even meeting his eyes in the first place. “Mr. Harrington, I need you to let me go to nationals.” Peter rushed his sentence out. You let out a small laugh you were trying to keep in. Peters head snapped over in your direction and the smile on your face grew wider and your laugh grew louder at his unexpected look. Not even 2 days have passed since Peter said he wasn’t going to nationals and now he wants to? “Well i don’t know whats up with Y/N but you can’t just show up at the last meeting before nationals and expect to be put back on the team” Flash spits confidently at Peter “Well actually Mr. Parker..” Mr. Harrington shot Flash the “shut up” look with his eyebrows raised “Yes you can, Flash can you grab Peters jacket out of my office desk please.” Mr. Harrington flashed a smile at Flash.

“Peters coming to nationals now?” Michelle lowly whispered just barely audible for you to hear, “this should be interesting.” She smiled down at her notebook as she began drawing god knows what.  


“Alright everyone needs to behave and no sneaking out after the curfew I’ve set, ten o'clock.” Mr. Harrington lectured you and the group of 10 teenagers. Liz, Michelle and you grab your key cards from the front desk and make your way up to your shared room with them. After getting settled in you decided to relax and watch some tv.

“Hey..” your attention got jerked away from the tv when it turned off suddenly “how about we go to the pool?” You looked over to see Liz gleefully smiling at you and Michelle with her bathing suit on. “Now?” you asked getting up off the bed you were sitting on “it’s 10:30 and isn’t the pool closed?” Liz slipped on her flip-flops “No it doesn’t close till 11:30 and Mr. Harrington does have to know, Plus being rebellious is good for moral…” she paused looking between Michelle and you “so hurry up and get your bathing suits on while I go tell the others.” you quickly agree with her and grab your suit out of your draw of the dresser.

“Michelle, you gonna come?” you ask from the bathroom while putting on your swimsuit on “No, I’m good here with the tv.” she replied as she plopped back down on the bed. You shoved your dirty clothes into your suitcase “Well you’ll just miss out on all the fun!” you called out leaving the room and making your way to the pool.

the pool is on the same floor as your shared room so all you have to do is walk down a few hallways, you make a round around the 2nd to last corner when you collide with something, or someone.

You fall back on your butt letting out a few mumbles of cuss words, “Oh god I’m so sorry, that was my-” The person stops when your eyes meet the familiar chocolate ombré orbs, this moment feeling more intimate than intended, you break your eyes away staring at the floor and taking peters now stretched out hand to help you up.

“Ok so-” a voice interrupts the moment you and Peter were having, “oh hey guys!” The smile of Liz comes into your view, “Hey Liz.” Peter coughs and you see a pink shade take over his face, you lowly scoff and roll eyes taking your hand slowly from Peters. “Are you coming to the pool too Peter?” Liz asks as everyone passes by the three of you “I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughs slightly catching your eyes only to look back to Liz just as you were about to say something you might’ve regretted Liz spoke, “Well you should, so hurry up and get your trunks on!” She whisper shouted the last part of her comment and the same pink shade that took over peters face took over hers.

You felt uncomfortable, like you were intruding on a private moment. “Please, its gonna be like a good luck charm for us!” She spoke as she walked away towards everyone else. Peter turned his attention back to you “You’re going swimming i’m guessing?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but your eyes “well you heard Liz, it’s gonna be our good luck charm.” You sarcastically spoke trying to meet Peters eyes with your Y/E/C ones just once.

“Look could we talk about what happened last-” Peters eyes finally caught yours taking you off guard and causing you to choke on your words, the feeling of be unwanted right here in this moment overran your body making you slouch slightly “Look Y/N…” he paused as his phone buzzed in his pocket “I really have to go, could we talk later?” He sighed running his hands through his soft, fluffy brown hair. “Uh sure.” You whispered breaking eye contact with Peter and looking at the floor, Peter sighed once more before walking away “just- just please don’t forget!” You called to him as he turned the corner and out of your sight.

You started making your way to the pool again thinking about what just happened, did Peter even really want to talk? He hasn’t wanted to talk to me at all this past week so maybe he really did regret what could have happened that night. You reached the door to the pool and slid your keycard through the small slot and the door clicked open. You slapped your card down on one of the small tables “there you are!” Flash shouted from in the pool, “I was starting to think you ditched us for penis.” He laughed making your mood even worse than it already was. “Whatever Flash.” You slipped into the pool and just floated on your back looking up at the ceiling with a couple of windows at the top, just admiring the stars and wishing how you could just be one right now instead of having to deal with all of this .. drama? no that’s not the right word for it, but I’m not sure what is maybe- your thoughts get cut off when your eyes meet the ones you saw in the hallway not even 5 minutes ago.

“Peter?” You whisper so quiet no one else hears you, you see Peters eyes widen and then he disappears. You stop and stand on your feet in the small hotel pool still staring up at the window. What is he doing on the roof? Why was he staring at me?

You get out of the pool and grab a designated towel from a small rack in the corner of the room and sit down at a lawn chair.

What is going on?

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

Wait what's the story about half the boys in your grade getting your class kicked out of Disney world?

Okay, if anyone is going to read this story, you are legally required to listen to the song “Turbulence” first. Nothing will truly make sense without it. You sit your ass through the entire damn song, if you try to skimp out on it the Elder’s will find you. It’s completely vital to the full experience of this stupid ass story. This ENTIRE story exasperates me

Now, okay, so my high school senior class….was relatively a group of good kids. It was a larger grade then I was used to growing up, so I obviously didn’t know everyone in the school personally, but I could pretty much recognize everyone in my grade, and like okay, there were a lot of class clowns and trouble makers™, but for the most part, no one was really a dick and everyone was generally a Decent Person.

Then, for some ungodly reason, the song ‘turbulence’ gets released. 

Now, I think the song actually came out in like, 2011 or something, but it caused Notable Problems with my grade in particular. It was deemed our ‘CLASS SONG’, and every time it played at an event or someone just played it for fun on their phone or something, every single kid in my age group just unexplainably went crazy. You never really knew what was going to happen, and it got worse each and every year- making senior year the year of Worried Faculty, and not without reason. 

Senior Year alone, before this Disney incident happened, the song ‘turbulence’ lead directly to the slightly-violent concussion of an unwillingly crowd surfing teacher and a few freshmen at homecoming, and it was also being blasted on a blue tooth speaker when a couple of boys in my class Lowkey Very Politely High-Jacked The Plane We Were On, so, when we got to Disney World, the chaperones made sure to contact whoever was in charge of our party and told them under no circumstances was this song to be played.

Anyway.

So the school does a Disney trip for the seniors every year- they stay in a cheap hotel and shove four or five withering and hormonal teens in a room, they go to the parks during the day, one night they walk through Universal and see the Blue Man Group in concert, and one night they usually have a big dinner and dance party for the kids, usually held in Sea World. 

But, you know what came out when they were planning the Disney trip? Blackfish. So, the school board (and a lot of the students) were like “UMM-” and that left them scrambling to find a new location for the party. 

The Disney workers, being Disney workers, were super helpful when the school mentioned this issue when they called to make reservations, though. They were like, “Oh, this is great timing! Your school always brings such well-behaved kids every year, and we’ve been thinking about opening up our Fantasia Gardens golf course as a party location! You guys could be our first official party!” and the school was super flattered so they agreed. Disney was providing a dance floor, food, a DJ, and everything else, and it wasn’t going to really cost anything extra, so the faculty was like, Super Excited about it. They thought this was gonna be a great thing, they were the experiment to see if they would try this with other schools, it was an honor, and it meant that they had a great reputation in Disney’s opinion, so maybe they’d be open to providing the school with free/new stuff/opportunities in future years.

Now, let me tell you something- I was Kinda Fucking Miserable for most of this trip. The first day was fine, but the second day saw my friends abandoning me in Magic Kingdom with barely any explanation, so I spent all day roaming MK and Epicot alone, save for occasionally standing next to acquaintances and talking to my different-school friends in a group chat on my phone, and then later that night my friend since third grade like, got a school official and cried to her about how I had instigated a fight and that’s why I was alone all day, which is literally such bullshit and not what happened, it‘s been 3 years and I still cannot believe she actually pulled this fuckery, so even though we made up later in the week I was still pissed the fuck off for the rest of my life the trip. All of my roommates (the deserters) were walking on eggshells around me, except this one control-freak girl who tried to micromanage everything I did (even though literally none of it affected her)  and none of us realized how pissed off I was until I apparently physically threw her out of the bed while I was in a deep sleep, multiple times, and also stole her pillow. So the only person who I wasn’t Fully Done with was this tiny girl from a writing class, but she was potentially Half-Hamster, exclusively wore clothes made for seven year olds, couldn’t go on half of the rides because of her glass eye, and 99% of her conversation points was talking about all the plans she had to hang out with one of the other girls I was rooming with (who didn’t actually wanna hang out with her/got mad at me the third day there because the boy she liked was flirting with me), so like…she was sweet but I also wanna go on rides and not hear how great the girls I’m lowkey in a Blood Feud with are, you know? She wasn’t exactly prime hang out material here. So by the time we get to this party at Fantasia Gardens, we’re all lowkey pretending like everything’s fine but like. It wasn’t hard to tell there was fighting going on. And you could just look at all the other students around you and see there was also fighting going on. Shoving so many kids in hot rooms is never a good idea, like YIKE. 

Anyway, I needed something at this party to be fun. I needed to be released at this point. 

I walk into the place and immediately realize I’m a fucking outlier amongst the girls- every single girl had opted for a sundress, whilst I thought a black skirt and a nice blouse would be enough. This should not have been a problem, but hey. High School. What can ya do. (it just made me more stressed) At this point I was like, this is it, this is it, I hate literally everyone in my high school. There’s nothing holding me back. Graduation take me the fuck away. But I had to make it through this party and then one more day in Disney. 

The room was like, a barn, kind off? Or at the very least it had been decorated like one. There was barbecue food, a dance floor, a lake outside, and a mini-golf course that we were told we were allowed to use at any part of the night. The DJ was playing relatively normal dance/club music. After about an hour of strobe lights and watching people dancing, My Friend Who Hath Betrayed Me and I decided to head down to the mini-golf course. 

There were these two guys there, and I didn’t really know them but they were clearly those ‘All Our Classmates Are Beneath Us Because We’re Alternative And Like Anime And Heavy Metal Music’ types of guys. They took one look at my ass in a tight black mini-skirt and immediately started flirting with me, and on any other occasion I would have shot them down, but 1) They were both actively focused on me over my friend, who I was still mad at and 2) I was frustrated - so I started flirting back even though I wasn’t interested in the slightest (and I had petty reasoning, of course, but I was 18, it was a bad week, it was 100 degrees, give me a break. I promise 99% of the time I’m not Awful). So anyway, we get caught up in a game of mini-golf with these anti-establishment boys, who spend the entire time dissing our classmates for, like, dancing, and looking for excuses to show off in front of me/touch me. We missed like half the dance because of this. 

Right when we were finishing our game, we were contemplating going to the other golf course (I was looking for an excuse to head back to the party tbh we were literally the only four people outside it was starting to feel like the set up to a horror movie) when a girl came up and told us to head back in because the boys™ had busted out the alcohol and we only had a limited amount of time before the chaperones noticed. 

(They sold alcohol at our hotel, a bunch of people had fake id’s made before the trip for this very reason). Me and my friend didn’t actually feel like drinking but we took the excuse and the boys followed us back inside (we lost them on the dance floor and I only saw them once again that night). Anyway, we arrived to what we thought was Chaos, but was truly only the Beginning of Chaos

Right off the bat, I noticed the boys from my Gov class and the boys I knew from detention were huddled around each other, muttering under the music. That, I knew, was not gonna lead to anything good. They see me, and they’re like “Javert! Javert people trust you! Go request that the DJ play turbulence!” and I’m like. No. What are you fucking planning??? But they just keep pressing me. They would not drop it oh my God. One of my roommates overhears this, the one who’s mad at me because her crush she never talks to was slightly flirting with me earlier, and she’s in a petty™ mood so she asks why they want it to play but they still won’t tell her, just keep insisting that it has to happening. So she’s all, ‘I can get it to play’ and struts off to the DJ booth with an exaggerated ponytail snap. I’m left with these boys like. For fucks sake please don’t get anyone killed. 

A few boys break off to go tap people and let them know what’s going on. The smell of alcohol is strong. Boys are starting to discreetly take off their shoes and any valuables and hide them under the tables. The chaperones aren‘t noticing any of this. 

I broke away from the dance floor to get a soda, and one of the teachers sees me looking mildly distressed and asks if something’s wrong. And I know. I know that I have the power to kill whatever the hell is about to happen. I’m the sole person in this room that’s clued in who’s not whispering in excitement and waiting for the song to play. I still don’t even know what they’re all planning on doing, but I could end this so fast, just say the words ‘turbulence’ or ‘the boys’ or ‘senior prank’, and this would be nipped in the bud immediately. This could be over before it ever started, all because of me.

And then I reflect on how shitty my weeks been going, how I was frustrated with most of the people in the room, how I needed something fun to happen at this party to release me from hell. 

I tell the chaperone I’m fine, just getting a little tired, and they drop it and head back to the buffet line. 

I head back to the dance floor. Everyone is grinding with baited breath. 

The DJ’s voice comes over the microphone: “I hear it’s someone’s birthday tomorrow! Let’s play her favorite song!”

Turbulence begins to play.

The class goes wild, wilder than they’ve ever been before. The building may as well be shaking from all the noise and music. 

The teachers are trying to get the DJ’s attention to cut the song. He can’t hear them. 

The bass drops

Almost every boy on the dance floor screams, runs outside, rips off their shirts and jumps into the fucking lake

It was absolute PANDEMONIUM. This wasn’t even the funniest thing they could have come up with but everyone left on the dance floor was loosing their minds cracking up. The teachers and Disney workers were screaming at the top of their lungs and trying to haul boys back onto the land. 

Then the manager of Fantasia Gardens starts screaming that there are alligators in the fucking lake

Like. FUCKING. IT’S FLORIDA. HOW DID NO ONE THINK THERE WAS GONNA BE AN ALLIGATOR PROBLEM. F L O R I D A. 

THESE DUMBASS BOYS JUMPED INTO A FUCKING ALLIGATOR INFESTED LAKE.

A L L I G A T O R S. 

FUCK.

All the boys eventually make it back onto land- no one had been bitten or killed or anything, although a few apparently did see ‘shapes moving’ (it was late at night, so nothing clear), and one kid got kicked in the head and knocked out for a few moments and almost drowned, but everyone was intact. 

DISNEY WORLD WAS FURIOUS

And like, you can’t fucking blame them. I’m sure when they were making the principal sign liability papers, they didn’t think to include ‘late night gator attacks in a lake’ on the list, they could’ve been put in serious trouble if something had happened omfg. But there was a LOT of yelling/ranting/cursing. NEVER before have they seen such inappropriate behavior, the school would not be allowed to step foot in the Fantasia Gardens EVER again, yadayada, that sort of thing. The more boys I found soaking wet, the more ridiculous this got- I knew which of them had planned it of course, but this was most of the grade. There were like, geeks and nerds and Good Kids™ who I never expected to do something like wild like this standing around half naked looking torn between proud and about-to-cry omfg.

Every single boy who participated got suspended for three days, but they had to space out which boys were suspended which days because they didn’t trust them to not throw a giant party on the days they weren’t there. 

The school is still allowed in Disney World every year, but are banned from Fantasia Gardens and received a fine. 

Turbulence’ was absolutely banned from being played at senior prom. 

Little Things

MASTERLIST

A/N: This is my very bad attempt at something cute, but you know… Fluff isn’t my best. Also a bit different from what I’ve done in the past, so feedback would be great. I messed up the months, I’m aware. 

Word count: 3,365

Pickering, Canada
April 2024

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Thievery | Peter Parker x Reader

requested: no

summary: reader is peter’s best friend and has just realized her true feelings. after the school day she is walking home and stops at Delmar’s to get a sandwich where a theif comes in and holds everyone at gunpoint. reader is well trained in fighting and takes him on, unaware that he has powers. spider-man arrives on the scene and things get interesting…

word count: 2252 (sorry it’s so long, got carried away)

a/n: this is my first peter parker one and i’m nervous. also idk how i feel about this but i would be up to writing a part 2..? PLEASE give me feedback, that gives me life. anyway hope you enjoy

part 2

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Tucking a strand of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, you steeled yourself to brave the horrors that were the halls of Midtown Science High School. You sucked in a breath and dove in, immediately being shoved from side to side by teenagers preoccupied by their phones, their friends, or their crushes.

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” You heard your friend Ned shouting for you and pivoted to face him, nearly causing yourself to collide with a huge dude with a mohawk. Luckily, Ned managed to grab your arm and yank you over to him.

Gasping a sigh of relief you thanked him, “Ned, you just saved my life.” To which he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah Y/N, he’s a real spider-man, better actually.” You heard the sarcasm dripping from his mouth before you saw your best friend in the world: Peter Parker. He came into view with his slightly-disheveled (but in a good way) hair. You averted your eyes immediately, feeling that tight sensation in the pit of your stomach. Unfortunately, your inability to meet his eyes did not go unnoticed and Peter’s face melted into worry, “Hey, Y/N? You ok?” His voice was ridden with worry but you just brushed it off.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just thought I might’ve dropped something.” You mumbled your excuse, gesturing to your overflowing hands with a short nod and flashed him an empty smile. He cocked his eyebrows at you, clearly knowing something was up, but let it go.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight and have a Star Wars marathon with us?” Ned asked as he finished locking away his supplies in his locker and slamming it shut with an ear piercing metal bang. You considered his offer, on one hand you loved hanging out with them, you guys always laughed a lot and a new inside joke came out of every single one of these sleepovers. On the other hand, just this week you noticed something that once realized, could not be shoved to the side; you were falling in love with Peter, fast.

Recognizing your hesitation Ned used his persuasive sing-song voice, “There will be Doritosssss…you’re favorite.” He poked you in the side and you threw your head back and giggled. You glanced sideways at Ned, taking in his goofy grin, raised eyebrows and squinted eyes awaiting your response, and then you couldn’t wait any longer and you met Peter’s gaze. He was looking at you with a small smile and his eyes sparkled light brown with sincere affection. Dammit.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun, who’s house?” You gave in, knowing it was in your best interest both to have fun and because they would fight you on it until you said yes anyway. Both the teenage boys’ faces lit up with excitement.

“5:30!! My house.” Peter exclaimed, clapping his hands together in victory. You snorted a bit and nodded.

“I’ll be there. Alright, I have to run home to clean my room and I want to stop at Delmar’s on the way. Peter you wanna come with? It’s right near your apartment.” You let it slip before you could think better of it. Peter got the face that said “I really want to come but…” and you knew exactly what was coming.

“I have the Stark internship…” You said it in unison with him, earning a small smirk and a sigh, “I’m sorry but I really do need to just finish… some, stuff.. before we all hang out.” You nodded and called a goodbye, turning just too early to see the sorrowful look on his face. He wanted to be with you more than you knew…


“Hey Mr. Delmar!” You called as you entered the bodega. The large man behind the counter smiled at you as you made your way to the fat cat on the counter.

“Hola Y/N. You want a number 3? No pickles?” He asks you, you nod in approval.

“Oh you know me so well,” You shot him a wide smile and then began to scan the aisles to pass the time. You strolled past a mother with her little boy and noted that he was grasping a spider-man toy in his hand and tugging at his mother’s arm.

“Mommy, Mommy, wook, I make Pider-man go flying to help.” His baby lisp only made the entire scene that much cuter, his mother looked down and smiled at him, “Yes baby, Spider-man will always protect you.” You felt your heart leap. You always felt this weird connection to the idea of Spider-man, more-so than any other hero.

“So, Y/N, where is your boyfriend?” You hear Mr. Delmar call as you round the aisle closest to him. He rests an elbow on the counter and raises a single eyebrow in an eerie knowing way. You narrow your eyes at him and prepare to give him the “He’s not my boyfriend speech” that you give him at least twice a week. But you stopped short when his eyes went wide and he raised his hands in submission. He cocked his head at you as an attempt to tell you to get away.

“Put your hands in the air,” You heard a rough voice and then felt a jab in your lower back… a gun. You did as he said and felt him pin your hands together and place them where the gun was, which was now by your head. You felt your heartbeat in your neck and everything seemed to slow down. You saw the woman pull her son behind the furthest aisle, she locked eyes with you and you felt her fear echoed in your face.

“Give me the money, NOW” He shouted at Mr. Delmar, who looked at you with the concern of a parent and did as he said, pulling open the cash register. Pulling yourself out of the haze of fear you forced yourself to remember your training. Closing your eyes tight you drew in a serene breath, One, Two, Three.

Throwing your elbow back, you stomped on his booted foot. He drew away from you with a wheeze of surprise and pain. You threw a hard right hook and distracted him as Mr. Delmar reached for the phone and dialed 911. You actually started to have the upper hand as you kicked out his right foot and he fell to his knee, but then something turned the tables, his hands began to steam and his ski mask caught fire… shit


Peter always followed you home before he started searching for crime, only leaving you if he sees a problem or hears sirens. He was sitting up on top of the building behind the ATM across the street from Delmar’s swinging his legs back and forth and waiting for you to return to view with a sandwich in hand. He pulled his phone out of the side pocket of his backpack and scrolled through to see if he had any new texts from Ned. You were taking longer than usual, he stood up on the edge of the building, careful not to be seen, since he was wearing the Spider-man suit, and searched for you.

Peter knew something was up, he couldn’t keep hiding the secret from you, and eventually Ned would probably let it slip. He thought back to earlier this afternoon when you wouldn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t want to lose you but he didn’t want to put you in jeopardy with you knowing.

“Karen, can I hear what’s happening in there?” Peter asked his suit lady.

“Engaging enhanced reconnaissance mode” He then heard a commotion and could see the heat signatures of two people fighting. Suddenly, however, one of the figures had their hands and head light up red-hot. Shit, Y/N was in there. Peter shot up and jumped from his perch onto the ATM building and then swung down to Delmar’s, blasting through the door. Nobody would hurt Y/N…


You pulled away from the burning man and backed up as far as you could. But you remembered the frightened woman and decided to try and lead him away from them, “Come on, I’m just a teenager why don’t you come get me?” That was the wrong thing to say, he hurled a fireball at your head. You narrowly avoided it but fell to the floor, tripping over a fallen newspaper stack. Your heart caught in your throat as he moved to stand over you, pulling off his mask to reveal a devilish smirk.

“What are you going to do now, babyface?” He growled at you, showcasing his cracked and missing teeth. You cringed away just kind of moving backwards an inch.

“She doesn’t have to do anything, because I will.” Your head whipped up to find the source of the familiar voice. What you found you couldn’t believe… It was him! Spider-man. He shot a web into the middle of the mans chest and used it to pull him forward, he kicked the man in the chest and then looked over at you. “Get everyone out of here! Get to safety.” You looked up at him mesmerized, taking a moment to fully absorb his words and then nodded profusely. You pulled yourself up, muscles aching from the combat you just did and scurried over to huddled mother. 

“Please, you have to get out of her.” The woman nodded and gripped her son tightly, sprinting for the door as he kept pointing at the real version of the small action figure in his hand. You nodded at Mr. Delmar and he began to get employees out. You slowly leaned around one of the aisles to see where they were. Spider-man was locked in combat with him, continuously shooting webs that would melt over his hands so that the punches didn’t burn. You saw that no one else was left in the store and looked around for an exit route. You were blocked in, they had moved over by the doorway. You wanted to help the hero but didn’t know how. Then it occurred to you.

You leaned close to the ground and made your way to the ice cream refrigerator on the wall on the wall. Desperately, you flung the door open and began ripping ice cream off the walls, until there was enough space for you to be able to fit in it. You stood in front of it and then prepared yourself for bravery you were pretty sure you didn’t actually have.

“Hey! Hot-Head! Come at me, I bet I can still take you.” He turned to you and smiled. You turned around fast to make sure the open fridge was right behind you.

“What-what’re you doing!?” Spider-man shouted, but you shook your head, letting the man get closer. His hands caught fire and he pushed you until you were up against the freezer and you caught eyes with Spider-man. You had about 2 seconds to get him to understand. You gestured your head back, ducked down and pushed yourself on the floor between the mans legs and shouted, “WEB HIM.”

In a second a stream of webs shot over your head and sealed the man in the freezer, door still open (you weren’t trying to kill him). Spider-man walked forward and webbed him over and over again. And you knew your theory worked, the fridge counteracted his heat and he could not melt the webs.

When he was done webbing the thief, Spider-man turned to you and cocked his head in a weirdly familiar way, “Thank you, that was really brave..” He seemed confused but also satisfied and sort of… proud?

“Yeah- uh, no of course.” You replied nervously, noticing that he seemed to have made his voice lower since the last time he talked. You took in his muscles and felt a blush creep over your face.

“Listen, I kind of have to go, the cops are going to get here soon and I really don’t want to have to explain to my parents what happened, also I want to be able to hang out with my friends. They’d never let me leave the house again after this…” You gestured to the scene around you. The masked hero nodded. 

“I get it… more than you know. Come here, I can help.” He motioned for you to come outside by the door with him. “Hold on tight.” He grabbed you around the waist once you were out and shot a web, lifting you into the air. It was exhilarating and you felt your hair whipping around your face. However, the joy ride was short. Spider-man brought you to the ground 3 buildings over from Delmar’s just as the first responders arrived on the scene. Miraculously he took you in the direction of your house.

“Now you don’t have to worry, get home safe. I don’t recommend any more stops tonight.” Spider-man said to you. There was a note of deep concern in his voice and again it felt familiar.

“Thank you,” You whispered breathless. Staring at a real hero, one whom you had just helped catch a villain was unreal. He didn’t answer, he merely raised a gloved hand and smoothed down your unruly hair. Then without warning he shot a web out to his right and swung out of view.

Something in your stomach was telling you that you knew the face underneath that mask, but you tucked away that nagging feeling and hauled-ass home.