and it was only the first minutes

did all antis stop watching TFA halfway through the interrogation scene or??????

Hello Campers! Now that you’ve all had a minute to recover from the grueling journey to Camp, the Big Three are announcing a new quest. The Oracle of Delphi has declared that any half-blood can answer the call, but only the brave shall prevail.

Quest 1: Cabin Aesthetics

Info:

The first quest is a bonding experience for Campers and a great way for you to get to know your cabinmates! Each cabin will work together to create a single edit (you can decide how to divide up the workload, but everyone must contribute) that you feel best portrays your cabin or godly parent’s aesthetic.

How it Works:

  • Reblog this post to you main blog
  • The quest runs from July 25th to August 6th
  • Members - when you’re ready to post your collaborative creation, make sure to post it under the network blog and tag it as Quest 1.
  • Creations can be a playlist, moodboard, character poster, fanart, etc. - essentially anything you feel represents your cabin aesthetic.
  • If members have any questions they can direct them to The Big Three or refer to the questing rules page on the net blog
  • The winning cabin will be announced August 19th
  • Please note that if the Big Three notice any disproportion in notes based on follower count, that will be noted and another method of choosing the winning cabin will be used.
Who did it first? - Bucky Barnes

Requested @taliajromanoff

Who said ‘I love you’ first? 
You, he wasn’t feeling himself, coming back to himself in the future didn’t help. He would often sit in his room and look out the window, watching everything go by, there was days when he didn’t move only stared. You came in one time.
‘Do you want to go and get food?’ You asked. He shook his head.
‘Why not? It’s only a five-minute walk.’ You told him calmly. He looked up with furrowed eyebrows.
‘I’m a monster, I…’ He said but trailed off when you reached up to his shoulder, rubbing it gently.
‘You aren’t a monster.’ You told him, he tried pulling away from you.
‘You only say that cause your making me feel better.’ He said harshly.
‘That’s where your wrong I say it because I love you and I don’t want you to waste your time staring when you could be out there.’ You said before letting go of his shoulder and headed out the room, you made it to the top of the stairs when you heard footsteps behind you, you looked behind you and smiled.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background?
Both, he would take pictures of you when you were doing stuff. He had you reading as his screensaver. You had a picture of him and you, that Natasha had managed to take.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror?
You, you’d tell him where you were going, and how long you would be. Just to make sure he knew as he didn’t always read his text messages.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts?
Him, he’d come home with bouquets of flowers, or get them delivered to your work and he’d leave extremely cheesy notes on them, your co-workers would tease you about it but you loved it.

Who initiated the first kiss?
You, he was having a rough day. So, you were both sitting on the couch, watching documentaries, allowing him to catch up and to get around what happened after the war. He was holding your hand as you were reading a book, when you looked up he was so interested. You slipped your hand from his and stood up, you leant over going to place a kiss on his cheek but he turned around and you caught his lips, you pulled back before smiling and walking to the kitchen.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning?
You, when you wake in the morning, you are always wrapped in Bucky’s arms, you would look up and smile, he looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, you would slowly sit up and look at the time, if it was early you would get up and go and make business but if it was a decent time to be woken up, you would place kisses along his jaw line, you know he was awake when his hand would pull you closer.

Who starts tickle fights?
Him, he would trail his metal fingers along your waist, the cold contacting makes you break out in goose bumps but then you giggle, he would look down with a cheeky smile before, doing it again. You would think he was accidentally doing it but then he continued doing it you looked up and he gave you an innocent smile.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower?
Him, he’s a gentleman, so he’s going to ask before he does a lot of things with you. You would find it adorable when he would go red even when he had already asked before and you agreed. When he first asked to join you in the shower you were grabbing a towel and he was watching you whilst rubbing his hands up and down his knees.
‘What’s wrong?’ You would ask him, he would look up and open his mouth to say something but he would close it again, you’d bend down in front of him and raise an eyebrow.
‘Is it okay if I join you?’ He said, you smiled before nodding, standing up and reaching your hand out grabbing his, and leading him towards the bathroom.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch?
Him, he would walk into your work holding a selection of your favourite foods. When he came up behind you he’d wrap an arm around your waist and press a kiss to your cheek, you’d smile and turn around before placing a peck on his lips. You would then go outside to the tables there and sit and talk about what you had both done today, and decided what you were doing for dinner wether it be in your house or out.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date?
Both, you were both nervous as it had been his first date for a while, he didn’t know if he still had his charm that the ladies liked. You were nervous since it was a blind date your friends had set you up. Once you met him though, all the worries and nerves disappeared.

Who kills/takes out the spiders?
Both, you aren’t scared and he isn’t scared. It only depends who is the one to see them first, neither of you would kill them though, you trap them and then release them outside.

headcanons about dorm adventures with the girls!

ft. sleepover saturdays (& prank wars)

  • tsuyu has girls only sleepovers in her room and the girls stay up late on saturday nights burrowed in their sleeping bags 
  • the first time tsuyu put this together, it was awkward for like 15 minutes until mina dared uraraka to float outside midoriya’s window with a bed sheet draped over herself 
  • ghost uraraka™ was born 
  • thanks to mina’s idea she won the halloween costume contest iida organized for their class that year
  • besides the weekly sleepovers, ashido (the mastermind) and hakagure start doing monthly pranks on the boys 
  • hakagure is great to have on the girls’ side because of her quirk, she could do so much damage 
  • ashido takes full advantage of this: hakagure steals bakugou’s homemade food from the fridge (while he’s in the kitchen) and he rages for like 4 days
  • that month the boys paid them back by doing this classic dorm prank because bakugou had taken most of his rage out on them and the girls deserved it
  • bonus: hakagure also replaces kirishima’s hair gel with glue which made his hair flop and stick straight out for 2 days
youtube

Bartók - Piano Concerto no.2

While Bartók was hailed in his life as one of the greatest Hungarian composers, as well as a giant of 20th century music, he had struggled to make a larger name for himself outside of Europe early in his career. He’d contemplated moving to the United States and touring there as a pianist because Hungary’s government was threatening to turn over to fascism. The work is written in a symmetrical arch form, with a fast-slow-fast-slow-fast pattern. Like the Strove Fair of Stravinsky’s Petrushka, it opens with a brass fanfare before the piano launches into the incredibly difficult movement. Through constant chords and runs and semiquavers, the pianist only rests for about 23 measures in the entirety of the ten minute movement. Bartók had intended to write this piece as a more simple and easy to grasp work than his first concerto, but even so it is still a challenge for pianists. As wild and fun as it is, it is also contrapuntally complex, and in an interesting move, he does not use the full orchestra yet. The second movement opens mysteriously in the strings. The slow tole of piano notes makes me think of this movement as another example of his “night music”, trying to recreate the sounds of nature, insects, the haunting of darkness. Though it doesn’t nearly match up as his first concerto, but it does hold an anxious atmosphere. It soon breaks into a feverish little toccata with a main theme built out of repeated notes and full of dizzying chromatic scales. The orchestra lightly chimes in with little bird calls, or a murky cloud behind the piano with a few brass chords here and there. The music shifts back to the calm of the movement’s opening before rushing into the finale. The piano brings back a main melody over the timpani rolls, and the movement takes off in the same energy of the first, and the main melody of the first returns with slight variation. Through the frantic interplay between piano and orchestra, the music surges into a more cheerful finale.

Movements:

1. Allegro

2. Adagio - Presto - Adagio

3. Allegro molto - Più molto

3


“Here’s a real question: how have you survived this long when you’re so violently self-destructive?

Andrew cocked his head to one side in a question. Neil didn’t know if Andrew was playing stupid to rile him or if Andrew really was oblivious. Either way it was frustrating. He wondered why no one else had caught on, or if people noticed and just didn’t care enough to say it. Now that Neil saw it, though, he couldn’t look past it. Anytime the Foxes mentioned Andrew’s upcoming sobriety or Andrew’s name popped up in write-ups on the team’s performance at games, the focus was on what a danger he was. People talked about his trial and how it saved them from Andrew. No one said what they were doing to save Andrew from himself.

anonymous asked:

You know what's bugging me? The freaking bonding moment! What we haven't see! Let me explain: We know Lance was hurt, very hurt. We know Keith craddled him. Buuuut... HOW?? Did Lance faint again so Keith have to do it? Did Keith offers to carry him? They were on their way on the way to the healing pods and Lance faints? What the others paladins saw? An unconcious Lance in Keith's arms. So, who put Lance on the pod? Who changes his clothes? Details, details like this are killing me

LISTEN  L I S T EN THE VLD CREW KEPT SO MANY GOOD KLANCE MOMENTS FROM US:

  • the arm cradling scene after the bonding moment

This most definitely wasn’t the end of it. Shiro could barely stand on his own (he was probably in the healing pod for a while too) and Hunk and Coran carried the crystal. Assuming that Keith didn’t lie to Lance, he was probably the one carrying Lance to the pod - in an arm cradling way, aka bridal carry like.

  • Keith freeing Lance from when he got handcuffed to the tree

The only lions that were with Nyma and Rolo were Yellow, Green and Black. Keith actually went and unchained Lance. Imagine the teasing and the jokes.

  • Lance actually praising Keith

Keith successfully completed Lance’s (and his own since he did not understand Lance’s handsigns) plan. Lance actually gave him a thumbs up. I am like 99% sure that there was a line like “sharp work samurai” that we missed out on here.

  • Keith and Lance running like maniacs through the halls of the castle

Just imagine it. Them running around, still screaming. Lance thinks he sees a shadow approaching and screams even louder. Keith joins on instinct. They keep running even faster and almost run over Coran. Coran is confused as the castle has not tried to hurt him at all. Keith and Lance first convince themselves that he’s the “real” Coran before they fall over themselves to tell him an insane story of a robot and an air vent developing their own minds to try to kill them.

  • Keith and Lance moving into rooms next to each other

Not sure if they could choose the rooms or of they got them assigned, but judging from the similar layout we’ve seen they probably chose to move into rooms next to each other. Also them discovering for the first time that the rooms are not soundproof. Lance could hear Keith and Coran talking in front of his door. Maybe that’s why he sleeps with headphones on? So that he doesn’t disturb Keith in the room next to him??

  • Keith and Lance discovering the fighting drones for the first time

They had everything perfectly under control when they appeared on screen for the first time with the drones. Shiro had a drone of his own-

-but for some reason only Keith and Lance worked together. That speaks from excessive training on their part…………. most likely one-on-one training with just the two of them.

  • coming up with the plan to scale the elevator walls

Listen listen this sounds so much like joined effort. Keith is probably the one that discovered the hatch to open the elevator but then just stood there like “well we’re fucked we can’t climb these walls” and Lance immediately went “ACTUALLY—”. Also the few minutes of silence/awkward dialogue in absolute darkness that leads to them discovering the hatch in the first place.

  • how did they get back out of the swimming pool room

THE ROOM DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE ANY DOORS AND EVEN IF IT HAD ONE IT WOULD LEAD TO THE BROKEN ELEVATOR HOW DID THEY GET OUT OF THERE DID THEY CATAPULT THEMSELVES OUT OF THE WATER AND BACK INTO THE AIR VENT AND THEN BACK-TO-BACK CLIMBED ALL THE WAY TO THE NEXT AIR VENT EXIT????


Listen,,,,,,, there are so many klance moments that we missed out on,,,,,,,,,,,,,, it’s not fair I want them all,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Transference (M) – Chapter 06

cr. [X]

Summary: During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card and figure, what the hell. The business arrangement becomes…mutually beneficial. Y’all know where this is going.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Word Count: 13,167

Warning: Tantric!Hoseok, therapist/client relationship, sexual themes, BDSM, shibari, dom/sub roleplay, profanity.

A/N: This chapter is going to hurt.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

Keep reading

3

Bethyl Appreciation Week 2017:

↳ ‘Day 4: Favourite Underrated Moment’

Whipped Cream (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nnochu


Description: Jungkook is your roommate. Among other things, his habit for baking shirtless made it… ‘difficult’ to live with him.

Themes: Smut, baker, collage, roommate au

This fic contains: Smut, adult content, food play, arguing, drinking, mentions of threesomes, swearing

Characters: Jungkook x You, Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung

words: 7.5k

For this fic I used inspirations of food play and the roommate au from two anons <3

A/N: I refused to come back from my hiatus until I had something for my lovely and patient followers <3 (also, I was keen to come back so i’ll edit this and fix mistakes later)

@chanyeolingss, @jn-jngkk, @sugaspen <3


It wasn’t necessarily the pile of dishes or the trail of clothes that seemed to almost constantly hover around Jungkook like he was some annoying ass Avatar or something that got you so mad. It wasn’t the thick fragrance of his cologne or body wash that drifted through the open plan of your shared apartment every morning, or the smell of his musky sweat when he returned home from his evening jog, or from when he emerges from his room- having clearly just having a ‘fucking mind blowing’ wank. It wasn’t the soft melodies, or exciting electronic beats that flooded from his open window and into yours, nor his big and copious amounts of jackets and coats that made it nearly impossible to get your own fucking clothes from the rack next to the front door. Your frequent burning irritation had nothing to do with his presence, with the evidence of his existence in your apartment and life; it was with the man behind it all. It was with him. With fucking Jeon Jungkook. Ok, and maybe it was also for his fucking annoying baking habits. Did he really need to bring that shit home? Didn’t he get sick of it at work?

Keep reading

2

I lost my best friend today. I haven’t stopped crying. I collapsed to the floor at work when I heard the news. There’s so much I want to say but I’m currently very, very broken and distraught. Breathing is hard. Tears are streaming down my face that I can’t control. I got sent home from work early and passed out when I got home. I hoped that when I would wake up that it would all have been a nightmare, but here we are. I was supposed to be fulfilling my #1 item on my bucket list in ten days: meet linkin park. The first time I saw them was August 27th 2007 and it changed my life, actually. I was finally going to be able to tell them how I would not be here today if it weren’t for them. And that’s no exaggeration. They were/they are my everything. My favorite band since I was 8 years old. Chester has been my hero since I was 8 goddamn years old. My first tattoo was dedicated to them, lyrics that are from a song Chester wrote to his kids. I took guitar lessons as a kid for only a week or two, just so I could learn the chords to “Faint” and feel cool for a minute of my shy, dorky life. LP was one of the only music I was even allowed to listen to during a very critical and traumatizing time of my life. I spent roughly a thousand dollars to go see them twice and meet them within the coming weeks, and tbh, no amount of money coming back to me now will ever makeup for it. It’s not just a band, it’s not just music, they’ve been my lifeline. And Chester was the brother I never had, my mentor, he was my best friend. I can’t explain how deeply this is affecting me and I can’t imagine how it’s affecting his family and loved ones. The one thing I am happy about in this moment is that the very last time I saw Chester in person, it was August 16th, 2014. During the last song he came down and shook fans hands, took photos with everyone in the front row, etc. when he got to me I was sobbing and he gave me the biggest hug, and I didn’t know what to do, so I right in his ear I said “thank you for everything.” He put his hand on the back of my head into his shoulder and said “no, thank you.” He smiled at me, and walked off. (Picture above is moments before that happened) I may not have officially met him, and can’t believe that I never will in this life, but deep in my heart I’ll have comfort telling myself that he knows. How important he was/is to me and everyone who listened to LP, his family, friends, everyone. I don’t know how to handle this tbh and thank you to everyone who has reached out and thought of me, that means a lot. I don’t even know if any of this makes sense. All I know is, I miss you Chester. And I’ll be thinking of you every single day until I see you on the other side.

“When life leaves us blind, love keeps us kind.”

my boyfriend and I are putting together a fun, shits-and-giggles campaign for ourselves, for context! I’ve never played before, and he has only minimally, so this should be good

him: hhhhhh I still need a last name for my character before I write…
him: what about smith??
me: NO it needs to be FANTASY
me:
me: SMYTHIE.
(cue our laughter for about 3 minutes)
him: THAT’S TOO GOOD
me: what if their big secret is that smythie is actually their first name, and kai is actually their last name, but it’s written the wrong way around on their birth certificate, AND THEY ONLY LEARNED THIS WHEN THEY WERE 15
him: I WILL WORK THAT IN.

Draco before the First Task
  • Lucius: That Potter boy won't last five minutes against a dragon
  • Draco: What are you saying Father? He's amazing. He'll definitely make it to ten. And then it'll be over only because he'll end it spectacularly with some daring stunt <3<3<3
  • Lucius: Oh Draco, you're so young and stupid and W R O N G
  • Draco: *glares*
  • Draco: *muttering* My Potter will hear about this
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.