float through

Anniversary

“Plagg? Marinette said you wanted to see me?” Tikki paused at the hatch leading up to Marinette’s balcony and frowned when there was no answer. Deciding that the silence was too innocent, she phased through and floated up. “Honestly, if this is another one of yours and Trixx’s pranks, you silly cat-”


Tikki trailed off, eyes going wide as her breath caught in her throat. All of the strung lights on the balcony had been plugged in, and were added to by about half a dozen tealight candles flickering gently from where they were scattered around the balcony. One was resting on the small table, along with two larger objects. Tikki floated closer, then gasped and covered her mouth with her tiny hands at finding two cupcake-sized cheesecakes resting on tiny plates.


A form only slightly larger than her own and covered in dark, velvet fur pressed against her side, cheek rubbing against her own in feline affection. “I knew you’d like it. It’s been a while since we’ve celebrated our anniversary, and, well…” Plagg fidgitted, and Tikki couldn’t help a delighted giggle as she hugged him tightly.


The other kwami were convinced that Plagg didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Tikki knew better.


Plagg squeaked, then hugged her back just as tightly before breaking away. “Come on, before the cheesecakes go bad. Marinette found a recipe called ‘death by chocolate’ for yours.” He shook his head in amusement. “I know how you love your chocolate.”


Tikki gave a small laugh, diving in for another hug. Yes, she loved chocolate, but she loved her grumpy, sweet other half far more.

anonymous asked:

Mare on Halloween! His inner trickster comes out full swing to cause mischief~ He floats through the night sky in his smoke form and scares unsuspecting trick-or-treater's; making car alarms go off suddenly, tree branches shake, porch lights flicker. He can of course create the eeriest ghostly wails you've ever heard and when he's not out terrorizing the town he's getting his sweet fix: snatching bowls of candy off porches and handfuls of treats from kids bags. Cuddling during scary movies! - 🎧

Halloween is the one day where Mare cuts loose out in the open. He counts down to it like kids count down to Christmas. By morning his bedroom is just treasure hoard of candy and he’s fast asleep after tiring himself out.

Wise

does your heart linger….

in feelings

long ago subsided

in emotions

swell like high tides

I find myself clinging

onto memories

petals to a rose

colored leaves come autumn

snow onto December trees

oh but oh but oh…

I will never let go…

no

I will hang onto you

how clouds remain aloft

floating through crystalline blue skies

it may mean I’m not smart

but something tells me…

it doesn’t mean I’m not wise

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

FollowCB | Copyright September 24, 2017

anonymous asked:

All the time Sally's been at the mansion LJ has spent countless hours reading up on defenses against ghosts just to mess with her. He knows various spells to "ghost-proof" things and force Sally into her corporeal form and this is how he can lock her in rooms when she can float through walls.

anonymous asked:

54 and 67 with Erik / Charles please?

When you got home from work, the smell of spices, herbs, meats, seasonings, and Heaven knew what else blanketed your nose; following your sense of smell, you found Erik in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of light grey jogging bottoms, his hands busy with pots and pans while other metal cooking instruments floated and coursed through the air to wherever Erik wanted them to be. You leaned against the doorframe and watched him cook for a while, happy at seeing him so at ease.

“I know you’re there,” he chuckled, turning to face you and grinning. “You’re home early.”

“I am,” you nodded, grinning back at him. “You made dinner?”

“I did,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’re you hiding, Lehnsherr?” You teased, walking to him and closing the distance between you by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your forehead against his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said honestly, bringing a spoon full of food to your mouth. “Taste it.” You did as he said, and when you chewed the first bite, you couldn’t help but to moan in approval.

“My god,” you chuckled softly. “You should cook more often.”

chat noir’s nine lives

one.


- the first time chat noir dies, he doesn’t even notice. 

he’s flung a hundred feet into a solid brick wall before everything goes dark. he wakes up in a hospital bed with a sheet over his face and ladybug crying by his bedside.


two. 


- the second time chat noir dies, it’s slow enough for him to realize what death tastes like. 

it floods his mouth, stains his teeth, and numbs his tongue so he can’t find the words to call out for help. it’s sweet enough to make him want to swallow it back and keep fighting, but his stomach won’t let him keep it down and forces him to suffer through the aftertaste that makes his head swim and his vision grow spotty. it drips down his throat and spills past his lips. he wants to be rid of it, but it hurts him to let it go. he wants to stand, but it’s much easier to slip to the ground and sleep. 

maybe he doesn’t taste death. maybe it’s just the blood filling his mouth. 


three. 


- the third time chat noir dies, plagg sits him down and explains that this isn’t immortality. 

adrien listens as he lifts his shirt and stares at the scar today’s bullet wound gave him as a token of his sacrifice. all this time he thought his powers of chaos and destruction had also gifted him a mastery over death. more importantly, he thought he had the opportunity to shut his eyes to fear and be the shield ladybug deserved. she is creation, hope, and life. a light like hers doesn’t deserve to be suffocated before she has a chance to enchant the rest of the world. 

but magic doesn’t make him invincible, and his chivalry has a time limit.


four. 


- the fourth time chat noir dies, he begins to keep track so he doesn’t lose count. 

he marks his deaths in sharpie marker right over his heart so he doesn’t forget who he’s dying for. 

Keep reading

Chat Noir Sings

Adrien Agreste rarely sings, but when he does, has a lovely, almost transcendent signing voice.

Chat Noir? Does not.

He sings constantly when he’s on patrol, but his voice is horrific. Where Adrien’s voice is soft, angelic, Chat Noir yowls and shrieks with the most dramatic choreography he can invent. There are clips on the Ladyblog of him butchering “One Day More” from Les Mis while parkouring dramatically across the Paris Capitol Building, including climbing the flagpole to stand atop it during Enjolras’ part, then swinging all the way down for Javert. All of Paris knows that Chat Noir is a terrible singer, but they appreciate his enthusiasm–except Ladybug, of course, who seriously wishes he would stop for just ten goddamn minutes, is that too much to ask?

Until one night, when the two of them are resting on top of the Eiffel Tower, and Ladybug absentmindedly begins to sing to herself. It’s not anything big, just something stupid and pop-y–just a silly little ditty by some pop singer that she hasn’t been able to get out of her head–when suddenly she hears Chat join in with a perfect, lilting harmony. A harmony that is nowhere in the original song, and that he is clearly making up on the spot. And it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever heard.

She’s too shocked to do anything but finish the song, listening to him float his way through a completely original countermelody that sends heat to her cheeks in a way that doesn’t happen around anyone but Adrien. The song finishes, and they spend the rest of their time together in silence, staring out across Paris.

The next morning, Marinette can’t get the song out of her head. She keeps finding herself humming it whenever she’s not paying attention, and ends up just the littlest bit disappointed every time she realizes that Chat isn’t there to sing his part.

Until, when class is being dismissed for lunch, she starts humming it again, and hears another voice join in as she and Adrien are walking out the door.

cosmic witch self-care tips 🌌

- adorn yourself with star patterned things to remind yourself daily that you are powerful

- wear shimmery silver highlighter/eye makeup/nail polish to match the glow of the night sky

- take a bath with a sparkly bath bomb, and candles being the only light in the room… imagine yourself peacefully floating through the cosmos

- doodle constellations to calm down during anxiety attacks or hard situations

- keep glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling for those nights when the sky just isn’t bright enough

Downstream - ~1k, post 12.23 / pre s13, angst

The ocean is a flat plane of glass, and the boat doesn’t cause a single ripple as it glides along the surface. Dean has no idea how they managed to drift out so far, but somehow they’ve completely lost sight of the shoreline. The only indication of the horizon is the thinnest, faintest line; a stray hair caught in a watercolour canvas.

It’s light out, the air around him a diffusion of pink and gold and reflected back in the water’s mirror surface, but he can’t find the sun. Perhaps it’s nearing dawn.

Dean’s leaning back against the bow, hands behind his head. The gunwales are kind of digging into his shoulders, but he’s smiling.

His companion is silent and placid where he sits near the stern. The light is catching the tips of his hair, setting off the dark with glints of gold. Clasped hands hang between splayed knees.

Dean inhales thick, salt air and lets his eyes drift closed. “This was a good idea. We needed a vacation.”

“You deserve it.”

Dean hums, contented. “You too. Hell, we’ve all been through the ringer lately.”

Cas nods. “I suppose we have.”

Their voices float easily through the air, but in the space all around them it’s perfectly quiet, save the occasional soft, gentle slap of water against the boat.

“Seriously, we shoulda done this years ago.”

“When?” Cas asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “After the apocalypse, but before the leviathan? Maybe between the Mark of Cain and Amara?”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kind of a downer, Cas?” Dean replies peaceably.

“Once or twice.”

Another long and companionable silence stretches out between them. They’ve been out here a while now and the sun probably should’ve risen, but it’s hardly a concern: the glow of light around them is warm enough. In fact, Dean could probably afford to take off his jacket, were he not far too comfortable to move.

“Dean. How long do you plan to stay out here?”

Dean cracks one eye. “What, you got somewhere to be?”

Cas’ answering smile is fond, and only slightly tinged with sadness. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.” Dean drops his eyelid.

“It’s just, there are things you need to do.”

Both Dean’s eyes open now, and he leans all the way up to sit on the hard, wooden seat. The boat rocks and sways. “Yeah, Cas, there’s always something. But you are cutting into our hard-earned relaxation time, man. You keep this up, you can kiss that second date goodbye.”

“This is a date?”

Dean gives him a look. “You take a lot of platonic pre-dawn rowboat rides?”

“I suppose not,” Cas says, and he casts his eyes out to the water. “I’m just a little surprised.”

“But not disappointed.”

There’s a faint blush dusting Cas’ cheeks. Maybe it’s just the light. “No.”

“Because you love me.” Cas’ eyebrows rocket up to his hairline, and Dean shrugs defensively. “Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.”

Dean’s gotta give him that one. “Touché.”

Cas is looking at him patiently, waiting.

Feeling rather like a third-grader forced to answer a question he wasn’t listening to in the first place, Dean casts his eyes down, suddenly intensely interested in the rough woodgrain below his feet. The fact that the boat has no oars is a mild curiosity.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugs. “Probably shoulda said it then. Guess I just figured you knew.”

“Because you’re always so open and honest with your feelings.”

That’s two points to Cas.

Dean plays for time a while longer, scraping his boots through the coarse, black sand he tracked in from the beach. “Alright, well, there it is. Better late than never, right?”

This time Cas doesn’t bother trying to hide the heartache in his smile.

They sit in silence again, for minutes or maybe hours. Eventually Cas looks left to the non-existent sun. “It’s probably time to go back,” he says quietly.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah. Little longer.”

“You have responsibilities, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “What, you mean Rosemary’s baby?”

“He didn’t ask to be what he is.”

“He’s the literal antichrist, Cas.”

Whatever he is,” Cas says firmly, “good or evil, he needs someone. He needs guidance.”

“He needs a bullet in the neck.”

Cas shakes his head. “You don’t mean that. He’s an innocent, Dean. And he needs you and Sam, now that I can’t be there for him anymore.”

Something flickers in Dean’s chest, like a moth beating against his heart. He frowns, confused, and finds Cas’ eyes.

The intent expression on Cas’ face gradually shifts to one of resignation. He sighs softly. “You forgot again, didn’t you?”

Dean jolts awake to a blaring car horn.

Sam is driving, the hideous sodium streetlights casting harsh lines of shadow across his face when he turns to the passenger seat. “You were talking again.”

Dean doesn’t answer as he reacquaints himself with the deep, aching chasm in his chest.

Sam swallows visibly, shadows of raindrops on the windshield like pockmarks on his skin. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Dean grits his teeth. “Yeah, Sam. There were these clowns. Like thirty of ‘em, and they all kept piling out of this Volkswagon.” The lie slides easy off his tongue.

Sam throws up a hand in surrender. “Okay.”

Anger is easier. Anger is always easier.

Dean closes his eyes tight and tries to chase the soft, pink-gold light of the ocean. He inhales Baby’s familiar leather scent, desperate for a whiff of salt air.

He tries to forget.


(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

anonymous requested: Oi ! i really like ur writings and was wondering if you do bill skarsgard/pennywise stuff ? if you do can you write a oneshot where Y/N plays the older sister (like shes in her twenties or smth) of beverly and pennywise kills her ? but Bill Skarsgard (he plays Pennywise) has a thing for Y/N and really hopes to impress her but it kinda goes wrong in someway ? idek but it’s been a idea i’ve had for ages ! thankss !  

Warnings: Spoilers -? Maybe? IT is a horror movie so, murder and choking. Also brief brief brief topics of vomit.

Word Count: 1880

A/N: I’m fully aware this is one shot is a bit bizarre and definitely a specific niche (not one that I share necessarily) but I feel like I need to preface this by saying this is simply just for fun. PSA Bev Marsh doesn’t have an older sister Y/N’s role is purely for this work

Originally posted by romanandme

Ever since Y/N got the call telling her she, Y/N L/N, was to play the part of Laura Marsh, her stomach still hasn’t unfolded itself. It was still all balled up in the pit of her lower abdomen, like she could hurl at any time. It had been there through the three months of filming they had done and she concluded that it would probably never leave.

Her character didn’t play much of a part in the loser’s club, but Y/N’s character was given her own story in the film. She was Laura Marsh, the real town ‘slut’  even though she often used her little sister Bev as a scapegoat. She hung out with Patrick Hocksetter and Henry Bower, and was usually one of Bev and the loser’s tormentors. Laura was a bitch by all standards of convention, even Y/N could admit, which was her death scene was supposed to be simultaneously terrifying and reliving.  

Y/N watched as the loser’s from her black chair as they played hand games and laughed together on the pavement. The blacktop was so hot! She thought, how the hell did they stand it? Y/N technically had only stopped being a kid three years ago (she was 21 now) but she still could never remember a time where she was so uncaring.

“Do ya’ know when they’re gonna start already? Jesus lets just get on with the scene already!” The slightly squeaky voice of Nicholas Hamilton (Henry Bowers) abruptly asked beside her. Three months ago she would’ve jumped, but now she didn’t even think about it. She heard a chair scraping against the ground and it groaned with the weight of Nick’s body. She turned and smiled at him, placing her thick and annotated script onto her lap. He was wearing an orange wife beater tanktop and Y/N could see redness on his shoulders beginning to form.

“Whoa I die in this scene! You want me gone that much, huh?” Y/N asked, feigning hurt as she chuckled lightly. It was the most unfortunate death for poor Laura Marsh, first she was kissed and then left by her boyfriend (which just so happened to be Henry Bowers) in the sewers of all places, then she was brutally ripped apart by a clown wearing his face. Y/N knew that the younger actor was anxious for his first on-screen make out (he had told her so time and time again) but she hoped the playful conversation would calm his nerves.  

Y/N was nervous too but for a different reason entirely. She was an experience actress, she had crossed all the necessary rights of passage, yet she was so nervous. Y/N had talked to Bill Skarsgard twice and she couldn’t shake her stupid, girlish crush. She hardly knew the guy for fuck’s sake! She had wanted so much to come from this movie, It was her first big production movie, but now she was most certainly gonna screw up. How the hell could she pretend to be terrified of the guy when she was secretly thinking ‘I want you to rub my mouth on your mouth’?

“No! No!” Nick assured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not the death I’m looking forward to,” he whispered under his breath not so subtly. A few moments of hot silence followed before he reached over and grabbed the script from Y/N’s lap. He lazily fanned himself with it boyishly.

“You’ve got another coupla scenes after this so it’s not like you’re not going anywhere!” He joked as he tried in vain to cool himself off. His voice was shaking slightly and his laughs were constrained, like he wasn’t breathing in enough. Y/N cocked her eyebrow and waited for a few seconds before she made a lunge for her script. She, of course, missed it and hit her elbow on the wooden arm rest of his chair.

“C’mon why do you carry this thing anyhow? Everyone knows you memorized this thing cover to cover the instant you got it.” Nick teased stretching his arm away from Y/N as he peered at all of her highlights and somewhat embarrassing notes.

Y/N tried to crack a smile, but it was true, she did take it everywhere. How could she not? How else could she ensure she’d pull through? Besides was it so wrong for her to make sure everything went perfectly?

Nevertheless, she was beginning to suspect that Nick knew something that he shouldn’t, that sneaky little son of a bitch. She was about to reply with a typical snarky remark but she was interrupted by Andy (the director) shouting, “Y/N, Nick, and Bill - Scene 6 please!” Her heart sank as her body began to move without her brain’s consent. Nick had already jumped up and ran over to Andy enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Y/N’s thighs peeled up from her chair and she awkwardly waddled over to join them.

Andy took one glance at her before waving a makeup artist down and whispering in her ear. How ironic that this makeup artist looked like a scary clown herself, what with all that highlighter. The girl took a dry rag and began to dab Y/N’s face a bit, before she was pulled onto set by someone’s face she didn’t even get to see.

Nick grabbed Y/N’s hand and lightly guided her into position, awaiting Andy to shout “Action!” Y/N could still see the kids offscreen playing their hand games, but now one of them had begun throwing little balls of mud.  

“Alright! Is everyone in position?!” Andy asked looking around as if he were waiting for someone to point out a problem. He nodding to the man holding the slate, before loudly shouting “AND ACTION!”

Nick immediately pushed Y/N’s hips up against the walls of the sewers and she giggled obnoxiously. His lips roughly greeted hers in a strained, but very teenager, kiss. The kiss lasted only for a couple of seconds before he pulled away and wiped his mouth, following the script to a tee.

“You’re getting better.” He commented rudely and went back to give her another kiss. But Y/N’s character, Laura pushed his chest back, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Henry?” Y/N made sure to smack her lips together, to cock her head, and roll her eyes.

“It means that I thought sluts like you were supposedta’ be good at kissin’. But I guess sluts aren’t really known for their kissin’ anyways.” Again, Nick went in for a kiss, but Y/N pushed him back and feigned disbelief.  

Only open your mouth slightly, stop cocking your head, frown, stare, make your eyes water Y/N went through exactly what she had to do in the mirror time and time again, perfecting every part of her express- Crap, lower your chin and …. cry!

Nick glanced at her, though by now her character was balling. “You’re a fucking crazy bitch. You know that right? How much do you charge again?” He asked so sourly the words curdled in his mouth.

“Just get the fuck outta here!” Y/N yelled and she could see, out of her peripheral vision, Andy mouthing along to the words. Nick smirked evilly, before exiting the set and giving her an encouraging off screen thumbs up. Y/N slumped down and cried pathetically, just as it was written. But eventually she stood and stumbled around in the sewers, crying all the way. She could feel the presence of the camera over her shoulder as it followed her like a ghost. Abruptly, the sound of demonic laughter reverberated around the metal of the sewer hitting Y/N’s ears. Bill was too good at that. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand. Her character stopped walking and wiped her nose with the back of her cranberry colored sweatshirt.

A floating red balloon bobbed through the air as it came softly down to where Y/N was standing. It bobbed so peacefully (like the script had said), so her character tried to reach out to get it like a  young child. Perhaps poor slut Laura Marsh needed comfort too, Y/N pondered.

“AND PENNYWISE GO!” Andy shouted, marking where CGI would be used to create a horrifying, deformed hell version of Bill’s beautiful face. Y/N jumped and let out a throaty, raspy scream, the same scream she was hired for. She felt cold hands on her sweatshirt before she saw Bill, but once she did she couldn’t help to scream again. It was nightmarish, with his enlarged forehead and pointed smile.

The clown pinned Y/N up against the wall, which would’ve actually choked her if it had not been for the slight incline that let her tiptoes hang on. She gasped and sputtered, still crying and struggling pathetically. “HO HO HEHEHE!” The clown laughed in her ear and the sound shocked her so much that Y/N lost her footing, her toes couldn’t get a grip on the wet floor of the sewer. Bill was already so much taller than her at 6’4” that in order to deliver the lines properly, he had begun brought her up to his face. She gripped tightly onto his gloved hands as she coughed and began to feel a bit light headed as he continued to laugh maniacally.

Just kill me already! Y/N painfully thought, she would hate to be the reason for the failed take. But Pennywise, or Bill, never seemed to talk fast enough and Y/N was really beginning to feel the effects as she tried desperately to gulp in air.

“I - I,” Wheeze. “C-c-can’t-t,” Wheeze.  

Immediately like a switch had been pulled, she felt the pressure on her throat release as she fell to the ground into the disgusting water. She gulped in sweet air like she had never breathed before and Andy, god bless him, finally shouted “Cut!”

“Y/N! Are you alright!? I really didn’t mean to! I mean I thought maybe - but - I’m so sorry!” Pennywi- Bill shouted, helping her up by placing his hand on the small of her back. It was so odd hearing him be so gentle and polite while wearing such a terrifying costume. His eyes, which five seconds ago where full of such rage, now were softened and sad. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” Bill said exasperatedly and guided her over to where Andy sat, all the while she was still breathing in and out deeply.

“Y/N! Y/N! What happened!” Y/N heard the voices of the child actors as they ran over to inspect the situation.

“It was the heat you dufas!” One of the kids proclaimed obviously, as they patted her shoulder. But all Y/N could focus on was the sound of her heart beating as she panted heavily.

“I’m …  fine guys.” Y/N confirmed as she rubbed her neck tenderly. Now that she finally had air in her lungs, the pain of where Bill’s fingers had wrapped around her throat set in.

“I’m so sorry,” Bill repeated as he tried to give her kindest smile he could, buck tooth, blood drenched and everything.

We have about 6 players and we’re taking a rest at an inn. It’s a one-stop town so some of us are resting and others are out doing stuff. It’s DARK. Nads (elf) and Ardar (human) are hunting a bear. Except Ardar can’t see in the dark. At all. Luckily Nads can and they’ve resorted to tying a rope to eachother to make sure Ardar doesn’t get lost. They finally find the bear they’ve been tracking.

DM: roll.
Nads: *rolls low, trips falls and not only takes damage but also damage from the bear*

Nads, now at 2 hp (ooc): I tug on the rope once to tell Ardar to pull me back.

DM: okay..Ardar-you feel one solid strong tug. What do you do?

Ardar (ooc): …I follow the rope.

Nads(ooc): what are you doing you’re going to die were both going to die in the woods you can’t SEE.

DM: you follow the rope, one hand holding it to guide you, the other out stretched. You touch somthing fuzzy. Not really soft, more of a prickly kinda stiff-

Ardar (ooc): I CAST LIGHTING BOLT ON THE THING IM TOUCHING.

DM, with a long sigh: …are you sure? This is the only chance I’m giving you if you mess up both of you could die.

Ardar(ooc): YES. *rolls a nat 20*

DM: OKAY WELL….You did it..fuck…with a burst of Electric power through your hand the bear takes enough damage to not only die, but you’ve cooked it. A little bit overdone, as the smell of burnt flesh floats through the air..it falls to the ground, very dead and very very cooked.

Ardar: hey nads you okay I got you some dinner.

Nads, failing to stand up: I’m not eating that and also fuck you.

Dead Serious

Request: hey could you do one with peter, where the reader is studying and, he just wants to hangout with her so he gets whiny and so the reader says “let me finish and we can make out for much long as you like” and then they do. Lots of fluff please :)

A/N: I think I have a problem where because my favourite thing is friends who eventually get together, I never write an “hey we’re already dating" type fic, and this would totally be a prefect one of those but LOL IMA NOT DO THAT STILL. Yikes, sorry if this wasn’t what you were looking for. Lol I’m also gonna do a smutty Part 2.

Word Count: 1338

Masterlist

Part 2 // Part 3

T-48 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEMISTRY EXAM

“And students, please remember that your midterm will be in exactly two days starting precisely when the bell rings, so do not be late,” your teacher said.

Peter leaned over next to you, “Are we studying tonight?”

“I can’t, but how about tomorrow night?” You whispered, trying to make sure the teacher doesn’t hear you.

“What? Got a hot date tonight or something? Too good to see me?” Peter joked.

“If you count a hot date as studying for my French midterm tomorrow, then yes,”

“Y/L/N, Mr Parker, do you have something to share with the class?” Your teacher called back at you.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could go over the different types of reactions one more time, I was struggling with memorizing them and I was just asking Peter for help, but it would be great if you could go over them,” you lied.

Your teacher eyed the two of you before turning around to the chalk board and began writing out different reactions.

“Nice save,” Peter whispered.

“Well one of us had to say something, and since you can’t lie for your life, that duty falls on me,“

“I can so lie,”

“Sure Peter, and I have a pet unicorn,”

“Hey!”

“We go over this all the time, you can’t lie, and that’s exactly why you need me as a best friend,”

“What about Ned?” Peter asked.

“He needs me for the same reason too,”

T-40 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

Peter: Hey Y/N

Y/N: How may I be of service

Peter: Can you paint me like one of your French girls?

Y/N: Peter, why can’t you just let me study?

Peter: Because i’m bored

Y/N: Go bother Ned, i’m busy.

Peter: He has a midterm tomorrow too, he won’t answer my texts.

Y/N: Well how about this, you let me study now and I will entertain you tomorrow after we study ;)

Peter: ugh fine

Peter: But what’s with the winky face?

Y/N: Peter.

Peter: Sorry!

T-39 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

Peter: I’m still curious about the winky face

Y/N: How’s this Parker, you leave me alone tomorrow and I’ll go down on you when we finish studying

Peter didn’t respond for a while

Y/N: Peter did you die?

Peter: You aren’t serious

Y/N: Dead serious.

Y/N: I’ll see you tomorrow ;)

T-24 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

You were sitting in chemistry, barely listening to your teacher ramble on about the different formulas you will need to know for tomorrow when Peter elbowed you to get your attention.

“Are you ready for your French exam?” He whispered.

“No! I’m so nervous. I can read it really well and understand it when someone speaks to me, but I have to write the entire exam in French and I don’t know if i’ll actually do well,”

“Y/N, you doodle in French for gods sake, I think you’ll be fine,”

“I know, i’m just nervous,”

“Listen to me, you’re going to do extremely well, as always. You’ve been taking French for years, you’ve got this in the bag,”

“Mr Parker! Something you would like to share with the rest of us?” the teacher interrupted.

Peter froze, he began stammering out a few words in response to the teacher when you cut in, “Sorry Ms, I was quizzing Peter on elements and their correlating atomic number. We didn’t mean to speak that loud,”

“Studying is for your free time, M®(s) Y/L/N, not class time. Please pay attention and study some other time,”

“Of course Ms. Our apologizes,”

The teacher turned back to the board and continued talking about what she had previously written.

“You need to quit talking so loud. There are only so many lies I can tell,”

T-21 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

At lunch you ran into the car and joined Peter and Ned at your lunch table.

“So?” Peter said

“How did you do?” Peter added.

“Fabulously! I know I did well. I’m about 95% sure I got an A on the exam. I’m so proud of myself. I actually understood what I was reading and what I wrote. I’m feeling really confident about it,”

“That’s awesome Y/N! I told you you’d do great. I’m proud of you,” Peter said.

“Let’s just wait and see how well I do on the chemistry midterm, and then you can decide whether you’re proud of me or not,”

“We’re still on for our study date tonight, right?“ Peter asked.

Ned looked up from his notes where he was studying for his exam in the afternoon.

“Wait, you two are going on a date? Finally. Took you two long enough. You can cut the sexual tension In here with a knife,”

“What?” You choked out

“We-we’re not going on a date. We said study date, Ned,” Peter said.

“I’m going to Peter’s tonight so we can study for our chemistry exam tomorrow,”

“Ha, I get it, you guys are studying YOUR chemistry. Have fun kids, use a condom,” Ned said, standing up and beginning to collect his things, “Well i’m going to the library where there’s less tension floating through the air. Enjoy ‘studying’ tonight guys,”

You and Peter sat silently and waited Ned walk away.

Neither of you were really sure of what to say.

“So do you want to just walk to my place after school together then?” Peter said, eventually breaking the silence.

“Yep!” You agreed.

T-16 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM 

It was 4pm by the time you and Peter actually began studying, you were lying on his floor with your textbook and notes open around you while Peter was sitting at his desk.

You spent some time quizzing each other and going over notes before Peter began getting bored. This was once of his best subjects so he really didn’t need to study as hard as you did for this class.

T-13 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTEM CHEM EXAM

You had been studying for three hours and Peter had started whining approximately two hours previous.

You were still on Peter’s floor surrounded by your study notes. Peter had moved to his bed and was lying down.

“Y/N,“ He whined.

“Yes, dear,” you said, not taking your attention away from what you were reading.

“How much longer do we have to study? i’m booooorrreeeddd. We already know all of this,”

“You already know all of this,” you corrected him.

“But Y/N, you know it toooooo,”

“Peter, hon, if you don’t shut up, or just help me study I might lose my mind,”

“You’ll have to make me stop talking,”

“Okay Peter, how’s this? Let me study now, and later we can make out for as long as you’d like, and maybe I’ll even go down on you,”

Peter sat up, “Wh-what?”

“I feel like at this point, my lips on yours is one sure way that you won’t be talking,”

“I-i- are you serious?” He questioned.

“Dead serious Parker, give me half an hour to review the rest of my notes and you can have your tongue down my throat for as long as you’d like,”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he shut up. You didn’t hear a peep out of him for the next half hour.

T-12 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

When you were finally done reviewing your notes, you put them back into your folder and stood up.

Peter sat on his bed, watching you.

“Were you really serious before, or were you just trying to get me to shut up?” Peter asked.

“I told you, Parker. I’m dead serious,”

Infinity War trailer details

The trailer — screened exclusively for attendees and not simultaneously released online — begins with The Guardians of the Galaxy on their ship, floating through a creepy section of space. Star-Lord tells his crew to put on their “mean faces” because things could get dangerous.Suddenly, a body hits their spaceship. It’s an unconscious Thor (Hemsworth), wearing his gladiator garb for Thor: Ragnarok (smart money is on the end of November’s Ragnarok leading directly into 2018’s Infinity War). They bring him inside the ship, and Mantis (Klementieff) wakes him up.

Thor looks around, sees Star-Lord (Pratt) and asks the natural question: “Who the hell are you guys?”

Next we are on Earth, where our heroes are dealing with death and destruction. Loki (Tom Hiddleston) has the Tesseract (the Infinity Stone he played around with in Avengers), and he’s up to no good. In New York, Peter Parker is on a school bus and sees his armhair is rising (Spider-sense?)

— Spider-Man has a new suit, that looks quite advanced, ala the one at the end of Spider-Man: Homecoming or from the Spider-Man 2099 comics.

— Captain America has a beard and looks like he’s been through a lot. It’s clear he’s been off doing something away from Iron Man’s Avengers and this is their first time seeing him.

— Thanos wears the Infinity Gauntlet, and pulls down part of a moon to battle the Avengers on an alien planet.

— Doctor Strange battles alongside the Guardians of the Galaxy and Iron Man on this planet

- Hollywood Reporter


bearded, messy-haired Captain America.

the stages of love - peter parker

Originally posted by tomshollandss

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: The Stages of Love played you like a game for years on end, but Peter might of just realized the same accounted for him too.

Requested: yes (anon)

Warnings: language; so much fluff holy shit

Words: 2524

a/n: so here’s a super fluffy peter imagine yikes this is so fluffy and long but oh well. anyway, pietro imagine releases tonight! hope u enjoy:) o and italics is in the past:)

masterlist

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Stage One: Confusion

You vividly remember the easier times like it was yesterday, the point where nothing was stressful in life besides picking out which birthday presents you wanted more than the others. Everything glided through your life so easily, not a stress in the world. You were seven at the time, the world of coloring your homework assignment and not having to study for the ACT.

You were in Mrs. Banks’ classroom for the year, the most wonderful teacher you could’ve ever thought of having. She was thoughtful, sweet, and she never raised her voice. Once you walked into the room on the first day, your seating assignment was golden. She had sat you next to your long time friend Michelle, your smile bright and jittery as you happily hopped your way over to your friend, her face lighting up at the sight of your name tag place next to hers. You arranged your pencil bag and crayons as Michelle talked ferociously to you about how much fun you two were gonna have all year next to each other.

Not even two minutes later, your bubbly conversation with Michelle was silenced, both of your attention’s snapping to a new figure being seen across the table from you. Your   big, Y/E/C eyes widened at the presence of the new boy, or what you thought was a boy, due to the fact his head was shoved away, hiding in the arms of your teacher.

“Y/N, Michelle, this is your other table buddy, Peter. Can you say hello?” Mrs. Banks’ soft, silky voice floated through your ears as your mind instantly nodded a yes through your head, your eagerness to make a new friend growing.

As Michelle nodded back as well, your teacher coaxed Peter’s seemingly shy demeanor from her arms and led him to the seat across from you. You watched carefully as the boy’s mop of slightly curly, brown hair move to face away from you, decisively showing you and your friend his face. Your eyes followed his features as they opened up to new faces being shown around him. His bashful, bright brown eyes wandered from you to Michelle numerous times before his small lips formed a weary smile at the two of you. Your fascination with this boy was growing by the minute, his entire demeanor questioned you over and over again.

Mrs. Banks’ let him be before walking away to greet others at the door. You stared directly at Peter, waiting for him to open his quiet mouth and say something. His eyes directed down at his desk, arranging his new pencils and crayons in order. Your mind grew impatient waiting for this new friend of yours to talk, so you decided to start the conversation.

“Hi, Peter! I’m Y/N! This is Michelle,” you started, voice squeaky and loud as your finger pointed over to Michelle. She waved at Peter sweetly before pulling out a book and flipping through tge pages.

Peter’s head slowly turned up and locked gazes with you, eyes wide with weariness and concern at your sudden outward demeanor. His thin eyebrows furrowed before his lips did that same small smile again and spoke to you.

“H-Hi,” he quietly answered, nose crinkling in concern of you not being able to hear his quiet voice.

Your smile lit up as soon as he replied, two front teeth missing from the equation, but still the brightest smile possible was adorned across your face. Your mind was somehow already captivated  by this boy’s reticent and peaceful disposition. But your heart was confused at the same time, your seven year old brain not knowing what this new exciting feeling that had been cast upon you on such short notice.

But man, did you like it.


Stage Two: Denial

“Peter! You have to tell me, c'mon!” you urged your best friend of five years, your hands slightly shoving him.

Peter rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest in sudden defeat, the sound of regret laced through his words, “Do I have to?”

You urgently shook your head up and down, eyes wide with curiosity as you watched the eleven year old boy in front of you. You were attempting to get Peter to tell you who his crush was, and it wasn’t working in your favor. You had pressured hi eight times that day to tell you, him not budging once. Bu this time, you could feel his attitude slipping, the secret so close to being released.

You really didn’t know why you wanted to know so badly. Maye it was the rush you would get when attempting to set the two of them up. Or, maybe it was the excitement you feel push through you as the Peter told you something he would never, ever tell anyone else.

Your thoughts were cut short as peter heavily sighed and waked closer towards you. His eyes cased everywhere else in the room besides yours  as he finally yielded to your constant begging and told you the secret.

“It’s, it’s Liz Allen,” he said rushed and quietly, instantly pulling away from your ear as the words slipped off his lips, sudden regret soaking his demeanor.

Your mind transitioned from eagerness to almost… regret?  You couldn’t quite detect the feeling that was pulsing through your veins right now. All you could think about was the girl’s name that had just rolled off Peter’s tongue and the fact that everything about her just didn’t match up with Peter.

You whispered back to him, looking around for the sight of anyone before muttering, “But, she’s an… eighth grader,” the sound of her grade level sounded so scandalous and out of place your eleven year old brain didn’t want to comprehend it.

“So?” Peter questioned back to you, rolling his eyes as if you were being the uptight one.

Thoughts of Peter whisking himself away from your time to stare at Liz Allen made your stomach twist in anger and from the tips of your fingers to your toes twitch with jealousy.

Woah woah, wait. Jealousy? You, jealous of Peter’s attention? No way. There was no way you, Y/N Y/L/N was somewhat crushing on Peter Parker. It’s Peter for god’s sake! He was awkward all the time, and he was your best friend. You were NOT jealous.

Nope, no way. There’s no way.

lmao you thot.


Stage Three: Acceptance

It had been two years ever since Peter admitted to his  longing, overbearing, and utterly pathetic crush on Liz Allen. And the  fact that you were completely over it, was to say the least. Ever since  he had slipped his secret to you, his eyes for Liz grew fonder as well  as his heart. His captivating brown eyes would light up a room as he  would spot Liz from the other side, his feet that once carried  themselves over to you before class, found their way over to the older  girl.

Peter’s heart yearned for Liz, while yours, as  you hated to admit, ached for his. Your mind since then has been in a  constant whirlwind of confusion, guilt, regret, and forgiveness as it  flipped between the two sides of your mirroring conflicts.

One  day, you would carry your hatred of his affection on your shoulders as  you approached the school, your feelings portrayed across your face.  Your lips would turn down in a scowl as your eyes would match, the usual   bright Y/E/C would glaze over in a layer of darkness to match your   mood.

But then the next day, Peter just had to do   something cute as hell, kicking the beat of your heart again and   igniting your new feelings, triggering your mind to wash away all of the  bad and immense feelings you had towards Peter’s affections. You   couldn’t trust your conflicted emotions anymore, your newly hormonal,   thirteen year old brain would constantly conflict yourself.

The point was, Peter Parker was messing with your mind, and you had no idea what would happen next.


Stage Four: Infatuation

“Peter, don’t do this again.”

“Y/N please! I promise you, we’ll work on it tomorrow!” Peter pleaded you, his hands grasped around the pole connecting your bed together. His pleads escaped his mouth in sweet, savory sections that made your heart thump.

Peter was flaking on you again, for Liz. Of course, who else would it be? You two were supposed to be working on your Chemistry project, but once again, he got a text from Liz, asking him to help her with homecoming stuff. The beautiful boy before you was asking for yet another favor, replacing your time over again with someone else’s.

You shook your head slightly, allowing him to leave you, working on the project alone. His sweet brown eyes connected with yours in happiness as you agreed.

“Thank you!” he ran over to your slumped figure, instantly wrapping his arms around your frame in a bone crushing hug. The heat between your two bodies flooded your memory of how it felt to succumb to his captivating touch. He released from your grasp, smiling at you once more before exiting your room in a rush.

And he was gone.

You couldn’t help but let out a shaky sigh, the emotions that wracked your brain for months attempting to spill out of your system.Two years had passed since you willingly admitted to yourself your immense feelings for Peter. The one day your feelings never conflicted you again caused you to have almost a mental breakdown. Every wave of sudden affection you yearned for from Peter hit you all at once that day, your thoughts no longer blurring you from the truth.

Your mind played every scenario of happiness, affection, and liveliness it could recall of your years with Peter. You adored his thoughtful strength to want to be able to do more with his life, his intelligence acting as a flame of ignition. You loved carefully gazing at the boy as he bit his thin, pink bottom lip in concentration, dazzling chocolate eyes trained in thought as he focused on something intense. His slightly curled brown hair would run through his fingers in time of stress, your eyes latching themselves on to the muscles that lined his sculpted hands along the top. And don’t even get started on the freckles. They peppered his tan skin so lightly that they looked as if they were barely there. Random ones would appear on his nose daily, and you would take note of the new placement and smile to yourself at all of his purely mesmerizing quirks.

You sensed a pleasure of infatuation ignite your heart in a fiery sensation with the boy, your mind clouding with pleasure and hope as you dazingly thought about him night and day. His heart was pure and full of complete joy, which made your feelings grow immensely deeper as time clocked on. Nothing could beat the admirable emotion you felt towards that boy, and that was not a good sign.

Your brain loathed to admit it, but you knew deep down in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind that he would never, ever gaze at you the way his eyes would cast a upon the older girl’s. He was your best friend, and unfortunately that was all.

But your feelings never countered for a minute.

Stage Five: Affection

One year later and Peter still knew. How could he not? From the way your pure Y/E/C eyes would run their course over his figure day by day to the way he would sense and witness your heart break as he fled your lonely figure for someone else’s. Ever since you two were thirteen, his immature boy brain could perceive the jealousy you proved among him as he spoke excitedly about his crush. At first he denied that you had any feeling towards him, but then he kept thinking back to all the occurrences to when your beautiful, bright smile was vanished from your features completely, when he talked about Liz.

He could remember the exact day he figured out your feelings. Your head was downcasted as he spoke to you about a science project. His eyes watched as your figure went limp at the sound of Liz’s name being used in an out-of-context situation. You then lifted your head, your usual light eyes portraying a dark side as you locked his gaze. Your features hardened and his heart did an unusual flip, his insides churning at the new unfamiliar and cold feeling.

It was almost as if seeing you in such a demure state put him in a saddened one. As time went on and his brain continued to wrack for answers, he finally received the answer.

Guilt.

Guilt was the previous anonymous feeling, and he felt his heart ache a little. The thought of  you staying up at night with thoughts of him wandering around your heartbroken state, brought him into a new light. Liz used to be the one who was the only facade of his wondrous thoughts day and night.

But as he sat in bed that night, his confused mind keeping him from sleep, he realized you had been for awhile. The emotion hit him like a truck, instantly being bombarded with images of you. The form of your radiant eyes and matching smile clouded the front of his mind, his veins suddenly pumping with a new, enticing feeling.

The way your nose would scrunch at something you took a dislike to, or the way your long eyelashes would flutter quickly as you attempted to stay awake and continue studying for another test. But most of all, the way that your soft features would all elevate to a new type of happiness you looked his way at the beginning of the day, his heart inflaming with captivity and admiration for you and everything you were made of.

The alluring sense of all this was completely evident the first time he kissed you too.

_

“Peter, what are you…?” you daringly questioned his close and infatuated presence.

“Please, Y/N. Let me show you much I love you” his scratchy yet sweet voice whispered against your trembling lips. The thought of Peter falling in love with caused your entire body to shake in nerves and shock. The air around the both of you became heavy and lucid as everything in the world seemed to make sense. The love you yearned for him to reciprocate was suddenly present, and you didn’t know when or why it was now showing itself, but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered then as Peter’s admirable brown eyes gazed from your lips and back to your eyes as the soft touch of his hands enveloping your face in a warm manner sent chills up and down both of your fingertips. Peter’s sweet touch was closed as his savory lips planted themselves on yours.

Both hearts filled with love as the feeling of closeness between the two of developed. Your lips pushed themselves back on his as your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to your needy figure. His throat emitted a long-awaited sigh of relief, your feeling being proved for one another once and for all.

The stages of love were somewhat a game. But, if you play them right, you’ll prove you’re the winner.

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