erin parker

long drives — t.h.

my sweet lil bub erin (@focused-on-holland) was feeling a bit down recently n these 775 words are dedicated to her bc i love her w all my heart n she deserves all the happiness there is :))

Wind broke against the cracked car windows filtering through her hair. It caused her hair to lift up and spiral in the air, creating a slight halo around her. Her right elbow rested on the door of the car, her arm moving like the ocean waves in the cracking wind outside.

His own hair was being tossed and twirled in the crisp, early evening wind. His fingers drummed along on the steering wheel to the best of the song blasting through the speakers. Her ears were full of song and his voice shouting along to the words.

Laughter tumbled past her mouth and out the window, disappearing into the dusk. She turned her head to look at him, a wide smile causing her eyes to crinkle. He caught her eyes, throwing her a quick wink. If it was even possible, her smile grew even more.

His right hand outstretched to grab her left. He gave it a small squeeze, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. Her farid cheeks ached from the amount of smiles and laughter she had shared on this drive. Her throat was beginning to run dry with the amount of shouting she had done to songs; the wind flying inside didn’t seem to help it either.

As the night dragged on, the air grew colder and goosebumps leaped and grew onto the exposed skin of her arms. His hand had yet to leave hers as they danced and sang to the music mingling with the noise of the air breaking against the car.

It was with their intertwined hands in the air as they shouted along to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing, that he’s sure he really knew he was in love with her. Her still farid cheeks were shadowed by the passing streetlights and the moon outside.

Her hand held her chin as she stared admirably out the window up at the stars painting dots in the deep blue sky. She ignored the hair blowing into her face as she poured her heart and soul out into the lyrics she yelled out the window.

It was how the pale yellow lights bouncing off her blue sweater, making it seem more vibrant, thatcher he knew he was in love with her. How it only reminded him of the rushing ocean currents and vivacious blue colors of the sea. He was in love with her and the way she was able to radiate everything the ocean was.

With the way her mysterious aura that reminded him of the deep ocean water and that only ever seemed to disappear for him. He released her hand and turned down the volume of their music as the song changed. She could feel the car slowing down and move to the side of the road.

Her head turned to look at him, a perplexed look on her face. He turned the engine off and looked at her, an adoring smile on his face. She giggled reaching a hand up to try and tame his unruly chocolate curls. His own hand reached up and grabbed hers, intertwining their fingers together, the other reaching out to do the same.

She smiled down at their hands that rested on the center console of the car. She gave a light squeeze to both hands and felt her cheeks burn again when he leaned forward to paint her face in kisses.

“I love you,” he mumbled in between kisses, “I’ll love you until all the stars burn out and time ceases to exist. I love you so much, baby girl.”

She was positive he could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her eyes darted their attention all over his head as he moved his head to kiss all over her face.

“Tom,” she whispered, to which he ignored, “Tommy, baby, look at me.” She let go of his hands and brought them up to cup his cheeks. His face was squished up and she gave another slight giggle, leaning forward and capturing his lips in a kiss.

“I love you too, pretty boy. Love you so so much,” she uttered, kissing him in short intervals over and over until his lips were beginning to swell. He laughed and tucked a tangled, stray piece of hair behind her ear. His lips planted two more kisses on her cheeks and leaned back in his seat, pulling onto the deserted street as a pink blush bloomed on the apples of her cheeks.

From that moment on, a deep tension of their mutual love pulsed through the atmosphere of the car as their destination disappeared like their continued shouts of songs out the windows.

tags : @peacefulmusician @literatureandimmature @grant-valdes-holland @spideyydarling @captainswriting @underoosie @spideyyss @marvelsdaughter @ladysnowren @lil-spidey @peterletmebeanavengerparker @tomhollandisthicc @focused-on-holland @peterfightmeparker @nedandpeter @spideyboys @hufflepuffholland @themultilingualmartell

Fire and Ice by Amber
Via Flickr:
I find her to be such a striking girl. She’s an interesting juxtaposition of haughty coolness and warm sensuality. Fashion Credits Dress: YukoDolls ( Fur Jacket: IT – NuFace – In Rouges Erin Belt: IT – Poppy Parker – Wild Thing Poppy Shoes: IT – FR2 – Only Natural Fashion Earrings & Red Stone Rings: IT – NuFace – In Rouges Erin Gold Ring: IT – Fashion Royalty – Contrasting Proposition Necklace: Me Doll is a Smoke and Mirrors Lilith.

Fic Idea- Superfamily deals with Peter being Spider-Man (and his love triangle)

[Because The Amazing Spider-Man 2 had me asking hard questions…Parksborn or Spideypool?]

Peter knows he was never destined to be normal: what with one dad being a billionaire genius and the other…well, the other being Captain America (because that’s enough explanation for some people). The radioactive spiderbite didn’t help, that was a very awkward conversation…

“Dad…Dad…I have superpowers”

“Where did I go wrong? I thought you were just going to rely on your genius!”

“Tony, you are not helping! Peter, your dad and I will support you no matter how you save the world.”

Of course, things only get worse when Harry comes back to town and rekindles their friendship…and hints at something more… not to mention the new mercenary in town who won’t leave Peter alone.

So, suddenly Peter has two suitors and neither of them could be considered normal. And his dads are absolutely no help.

“I refuse to see my son date the head of Oscorp! And the whole "I need Spider-Man’s blood” thing is way too kinky for you to be dealing with right now"

“Tony! Harry is Peter’s friend! And are you seriously suggesting our son get involved with a mercenary who may not even be mentally stable?”

So how can Peter decide, when one dad ships Parksborn, and the other ships Spideypool?

”Charlie Parker”

by Erin Kelso


For the Month of Love challenge. The theme is ‘Heroes’, so I picked a very dark hero from John Connolly’s Charlie Parker book series. Charlie’s mission is to destroy human (and not-so-human) evil, sometimes with the help of his dead wife and daughter.

anonymous asked:

Imagine Bucky meeting Peter Parker and being super stressed by this dumb teenager swinging around New York City without any actual training or back up or anything

“But what do you do if someone shoots at you?” he asks, increasingly frantic.

"I uh, try not to get shot at, mostly,” the kid answers, and that response is so bad that Bucky actually throws his hands straight into the air.

“Oh, you just try not to get shot at!” This is exactly like talking to Steve. It’s exactly like talking to him. It’s been seventy years since Bucky was babysitting a scrawny do-gooder with a death wish but Peter Parker is bringing out all of Bucky’s protective instincts, and it’s everything he can do not to rip the kid down from the strand of web he’s casually hanging on and drag him back to the Tower to ground him until he’s old enough to not swing around the city hoping not to get shot at.

“Hey, I get by okay! I mean, I balance my schoolwork, my social life, my job, and crimefighting, and I haven’t been shot yet, so-“

"Have you even had any formal training?” Bucky cuts him off.


“Yeah, we’re going to fix that now. C’mon.” Bucky grabs him by the shirt collar and heads off, same as he would with Steve when Steve was five foot squat and throwing himself into fights way above his skill level. The kid squalls, but Bucky is having none of it. “I’m gonna give you some half-decent hand-to-hand training, and we’re going to talk to Stark about your uniform.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my - I made that myself, you asshole!”

"Exactly. We’re gonna find you something that won’t turn you into hamburger if someone shoots you.”

“Do I get a say in this?”


I decided failure was no longer an option. I wasn’t going to let myself stop until I’d built what I’d envisioned in my head Spitfire could truly be. I knew that if I just persisted through the pain (like an athlete), that the end result would be well worth the temporary pain…

I was relentless, If I didn’t get something the first time, I didn’t care. I would go through it again and again until it started to make sense. I would look for different explanations of the concept. I would ask my friends. When I was coding in coffee shops, if the person sitting in front of me looked like they were an engineer based on the stickers on their laptop, I would kindly ask them if they could help (I have made so many friends this way, a few of them are still really good friends).

from left to right: marco, jake, tobias, rachel, cassie. i tried to make jake look half-aisian, cos him talking about his blonde cousin reminded me of my half-puerto rican cousins and i just. wanted to draw mixed-raced families. i don’t know. moving along. it’s hard to make 12-year-old faces distinctive. they’re all just baby-faces to me.

*strokes tobias’s baby-face*