i just knew i had to make it

ghostiesschmosties  asked:

Was it hard for you to open up to others about your depression? Every time I do all I get is pity and I'm so tired of it, and it makes it hard for me to ask for help even though I need it

i did used to feel embarrassed about it, like i was grabbing for attention. during the midst of the Bad Times is when i just…… stopped caring? it was bad enough at that point that i didnt care who knew about my mental state, because i figured that id be dead soon anyway. i also had to go to a lot of therapy that included talking about it with both professionals and peers, and it made it a lot easier to open up since i actually knew a lot about what i was talking about. i understand totally what you mean about not being able to ask for help, because being pitied is kinda exhausting when you just wanna like,,, curl up and not be alive anymore

but now, during recovery, when im finally coming out on the other side, im really eager to share my knowledge and experiences. is the pity annoying? not so much anymore! because the reason i share isnt really personal (like to get help); it’s educational

it may be a good idea to open up to other people who ALSO have depression, where youre more likely to find empathy than pity (it helps that a lot of therapists have struggled with the same)

Mine - a Peter Parker/ Spiderman imagine

Woah two Tom Holland imagines in one day! Ya girl got a new obsession.

Originally posted by hardyness

“Hey Pete! It’s Y/N…but you already knew that because your phone probably said you had a voicemail from me… and like 20 texts…because thats how phones work… haha… Anyways I was just calling to see if you were still coming for our movie night tonight. You kinda bolted from school today and yesterday… aaaand the day before that so I haven’t really had the chance to make sure you were still on. Yeah, um call me or text me.” Y/N paced around the floor of her room, her had running through her hair as she stared at her phone after pressing the end call button. 

Y/N and Peter had been best friends since diapers. And Ned of course, but Y/N and Peter were inseparable. She plopped her self down on the edge of her bed, a heavy sigh escaping her lips and she glanced around her room, her eyes landing on a set of Photo Booth pictures of her and Peter each one more silly than the one before. She grinned as she picked them up, holing them gently in her fingers as though they would shatter under her touch. Things had been so different lately, her parents were constantly fighting and slamming doors and leaving and Peter had been seemingly avoiding her like the plague when she had needed him most. 

She pressed Ned’s name on her phone, hopping Peter was with him and that maybe he had just forgotten his phone or something. But to no avail, Ned was ignoring her also. She tossed her phone across the room with a groan. “I guess friend night is just for you and me now.” Y/N said to her dog who was curled up at the bottom of her bed before pressing play, turning the volume up to drown out the sounds of her parents screaming.


“Ned you can’t tell anyone.” Peter stared at his friend who already was beginning to lose his shit. Peters phone began to ring yet again in his pocket, he let it continue to ring while and New continued to talk. Ned phone began to ring only a moment later, the ringer specifically picked out for when Y/N called echoing In the room.

“Does Y/N know?” Ned asked and Peters eyes widened. He shook his head quickly. “No she doesnt. And she never will. After everything she has been through lately she can’t know that people try to kill me everyday. I’m pretty sure t would give her a heart attack.“Peter couldn’t bare the thought of hurting Y/N. She was his person, at least that’s what he liked to call her, if anything happened to her it would kill him. He already felt bad enough ignoring her and leaving her hanging so often but he couldn’t risk it. 


 Y/N leaned her head inside her locker, sniffling away the tears she had been crying all night and morning. Her dad had completely abandoned her and her mom. Packed everything and left them screaming nonsense. Her mom couldn’t handle it and left Y/N to go drink and didn’t return home. She had tried to reach out to Peter and of course was sent directly to voicemail. Y/N reached her hands up, forcefully rubbing them over her tear stained face. With a deep breath she slammed her locker shut. Peter and Ned stood on the other side of the door both with cheesy grins plastered on their faces. The grins quickly fell as they saw how Y/N looked, no makeup which never happened, puffy red eyes, tear stained cheeks and stain covered baggy sweatshirt drowning her already small frame.

“Y/N.. you look..” Peter stared.

“Awful.” Ned finished. Y/N rolled her eyes shoving past the two, hitting them both with her shoulders. 

“Definitely the way to any girls heart. Tell her she looks awful.” MJ leaned against the wall near them staring as though she had been there the whole time. The two looked at her for a moment before quickly turning to go and catch up with Y/N.

“Y/N waits whats wrong?”  Peter ran quickly and grabbed her hand, pulling her into an empty classroom and shutting the door before Ned could come in. He had a feeling this was something just the two of them needed to talk about. Y/N stared ahead at the empty chairs, not turning to Peter who stood behind her. Tears threatened her eyes once more and she took in a shaky breath. “please… you can tell me anything… Its me." 

 Y/N let out a sad and sarcastic laugh. She could feel her anger building up inside of her the closer Peter got to her. She turned on her heel and looked him in the eye. "Anything? I can’t tell you jack shit! You haven’t been here for weeks Peter! You bolt the second the final bell rings and when I talk to you during school you are always staring at the clock or your phone." 

 "Y/N I can explain! It’s the internship I- I have been waiting for a really big call and it takes up all my time!” Peter begged. But Y/N just shook her head an annoyed smile plastered on her lips honestly scaring Peter. “I thought you were happy about me having the internship!”

 "Would you just shut up about that stupid Internship!!“ Y/N screamed, Peter stepping back slightly. ” you aren’t listening to a word I say! I can’t tell you anything because you don’t listen! If you actually cared you would have actually listened to me and been there for me when I needed you Pete! And I fucking needed you. If you even cared a little bit you would have been there. But you weren’t, so clearly you don’t. You have completely shut me out Peter. If you want to end it and not be my friend any more please just end it instead of dragging me along like this because I can’t take it anymore.“ Y/N wasn’t even trying to hold back her tears at this point.

“Y/N… Please…” He reached out to her, they were standing so close yet they had never felt so far apart. 

“No Peter. If you won’t do it then I will. Don’t talk to me ever again, its the least you can do.” She sniffled, wiping her tears away before walking out of the room, walking past Ned and MJ and walking straight out the school doors. Peter stood frozen in his spot, silent tears slipping down his cheek as he stared at the empty space where his best friend and the love of his life had been standing just moments before. He was at a loss of words, the only sound filling the room was that of his heart breaking. He was so worried about hurting Y/N because of being Spiderman that he didn’t realize how much he himself had been hurting her. 


Peter sat on the rough of the apartment building across from Y/N’s home, he could see the window he had snuck into countless of times before to Y/N’s room, the flickering of a candle as the only light coming from the room. Her curtains blew slightly in from the light breeze that was blowing through her wide open window. He hadn’t seen or heard from Y/N the rest of the day no matter how many times he called her and looked around the city for her. He ripped his mask from his face feeling suffocated suddenly. He let so stupid for being so blind to how she had been feeling. Its not like she didn’t reach out to him, he was just so caught up in everything that he flat out ignored it. He could hear her mom yelling something at Y/N from where he was sat followed by a loud slam and her mom storming out of the townhouse with a large packed bag. This was his chance, slipping his mask back on he slung his web to attach to her roof, swinging down to land outside of her window.

“Fuck you too mom.” Y/N spoke with no emotion as she closed the door to her room, leaning against it and letting her body slide down it to be sitting on the floor in front of it.

“Now thats no way to talk to your mom.” Y/N’s gaze shut up as she stood quickly, Her eyes grew wide as she stared at The Spider-Man standing in the middle of her room. “Now I know what your thinking and no I’m not here to put you in jail or anything for using that language. I had heard from my pal Peter through the Stark Internship that his best friend Y/N was having a tough time and that he was a complete dumb ass. I figured I would come and try to patch things up. I hear you are a fairly big fan of me.” He stepped closer to her as she stood still, her mouth dropping open in disbelief. “Close your mouth sweetheart,  it would be a shame if a bug hereto fly in here.” He laughed slightly as he reached his finger up to gently lift her jaw and caress her cheek for a moment. 

“This can’t be real life.” Y/N shook her head quickly, pacing slightly in front of him. “I must be dreaming. Or I finally died, jeez that was a bit morbid…” Peter chuckled in front of her and her attention was drawn back to Spider-Man again. A small smile on her lips.

“What?” He asked as she stared at him.

“Oh nothing, you just..  your giggle sounds a lot like Peter’s. I love his little laugh.” She smiled as she bit her lip, thinking of all the times she had heard him let out his stupid little giggle. 

“Sounds like you love a lot more than his laugh.” Spiderman pushed stepping close to her once more.

“What? I mean- oh hell this is all a dream anyways so I might as well just say it. Yeah I love everything about Peter. I love him more than anyone or anything in this world. Thats why it hurt so much. Because no matter how much I say I hate him or how much he hurt me,I will always love him. I know he was just so caught up in the amazing Internship he got. I mean its his future, And I know how much it means to him. I know I was just being selfish. I think I will always be in love with him.” Y/N sighed as she sat on the edge her bed, playing with her chipped paint on her finger nails.

“Well… I know how hard it was for you to tell me that secret. Can I let you in on my own big secret before I give you some advice on what you just said?” Peter was trying his hardest to not stumble over his words, he knew what he said didn’t make the most sense but the love of his life just admitted she loved him too. Y/N glanced up at him her eyes shining with tears. 

“Go for it.” Peter took a deep breath as he reached his hand up, grabbing the top of his mask and pulling it off. Y/N’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of her face as she stood up and looked at Peter who had a small smirk on his lips. 

“I’ll always be in love with you too.” Peter said as he closed the distance between the two, pulling Y/N against him and connecting their lips in a passionate kiss. The two finally pulled away as Y/N continued to stare at him her brain unable to think of anything to say.

“This is why I have been so distant, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt from knowing but I was so caught up in that that I didn’t see how badly I was actually hurting you.” Peter admitted. Y/N reached up and punched him on the shoulder with all her strength. He jerked back slightly, his arm reaching up to nurse the light ache.

“Thats for being an asshole.” Y/N said sternly. She reached up again, Peter flinching and closing his eyes only to be pleasantly surprised when Y/N was kissing him once more.

“What was that one for?” 

“Thats for being my asshole.”

Fantasy 10...

Sneaky sneaky…
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
I knew you were gonna be coming to town again. Even if it was just to drive through. I knew because we have been talking about it. We knew it would be a risk. We also knew it may be damn near impossible for me to get away. But I was determined, even with the nerves I knew I had to see you. All day long we had been talking and crossing our fingers that all of our stars would align.
As it gets closer and closer to the time for you to be entering the city I get more and more nervous. We can not afford to get caught. And this is beyond risky. I live here you don’t. Ahhh I just need to take a deep breath it will be ok.
You texted and told me where you are. Time to put my plan into action. I make up some story about how I wanted to run to the store for these pants after work but I forgot. So I finish the show we are watching and head out at just the right time to meet up. I’m still beyond nervous but excited too and as soon as I see your truck I get the butterflies. We park by each other and you climb into my car. It’s so amazing to see you again. I’m so happy that we were able to make this work. It does not take you long to reach over and caress my face and place your lips on mine. Lord I love your kisses! Fucking LOVE them. I wish they were not so far and few between but we take what we can get. To feel your hands on me, your lips on my lips and to be able to touch you this just reminds me why the time between us seeing each other is worth the wait. Your hands start to wander. They begin to caress me all over. They keep moving like they just can’t help themselves. Before I know it your hands are in my yoga pants and your fingers have already found the promised land. God I wish we had more time but time is not something either one of us have. But god when you work my pussy like a pro and have me panting already you don’t need a whole lot of time to make my pussy flood. With you telling me to lay my seat back and you kissing me and playing me like an instrument I’m beyond thankful for an empty parking lot cause keeping quiet is not easy. You keep at it and you are playing with my ass too, you know that is a huge weakness for me. God I’m gonna cum. You can tell I’m close and you just master my body like always. You say how you want your mouth on my pussy but I just don’t know how it’s gonna work. But you are determined. You yank my pants down and you push my leg up by my window and you practically dive head 1st into my pussy. God I love your mouth! When I say I love your mouth I mean it more then you know! Your mouth is the stuff of my fantasies. I love the way your mouth worships my pussy. God I didn’t think you were going to be able to make it work in this position. My chair all the way back pants around my ankles and one knee all the way up but damn you take making the most out of what you have to a whole new level. I just want to hold your head there forever. Just when I think it can’t get any better your fingers are back in the mix and you are playing in both areas where I need you the most. I so wish we had enough time and space for you to fuck my ass but this is a close 2nd. Your mouth crating magic and your fingers going in for the assist. It’s not going to take much for you to send me over the edge again. The closer I get the harder it gets to keep quiet. You apply more pressure and more suction, before I can even blink I’m rolling into another orgasm. God how I’ve missed you. You pull your fingers away and then plant on more kiss on me and slowly sit up. I can’t even move you have turned me to jello. I look at you and I just smile. I sit my seat back up after I pull my pants up. I just want to kiss you and play with you but we are out of time and we both know it. You have to get on your way and I really do need to come home with some pants or else it’s gonna look funny. As always I’m reluctant to part from you. It’s such a bitter sweet feeling. We talk a little bit more and then you kiss me goodbye get out of my car and jump into your truck. I hope we don’t have to wait so long between the next time we see each other and hopefully we can have more time.

Lightning knew something was…off before she‘d even opened her eyes, or had even completely woken up. She couldn’t say what it was, exactly, but everything just felt….not right.

And then it hit her: she was lying on a mattress.

Her eyes immediately shot open and she sat up so quickly, it was a wonder she didn’t give herself whiplash. She glanced around the room, heart pounding as it quickly dawned on her that she recognized absolutely nothing about where she was.

But besides being unfamiliar, even the furniture and décor just looked strange in a way that she couldn’t quite describe. It looked like it wasn’t Cocoon-made at all, nor did it have the weird qualities associated with something from Pulse. Even the sheets that were twisted around her legs felt weird.

Instinctively, she looked around for her gunblade, but it was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was nothing in her immediate view that suggested anything here belong to a solider – no weapons, no gloves or boots, no pouches for ammo…nothing.

Even so, she knew she couldn’t just sit here and wait for something to ambush her.

Lightning slowly crawled out of the bed – which she just now noticed was enormous, unlike her much more reasonable mattress back on Bodhum – and tiptoed across the room to press her ear to the door. She could hear something – or someone – moving around, so she immediately made the decision to check it out, despite being completely unarmed.

As soon as she opened the door, it was instantly made clear that she was in a house…but whose house, she couldn’t really say. There were photos on the wall, but she didn’t want to stop to look at them. They seemed almost blurry, anyway; like the images were at the corner of her eyes and would vanish if she tried to look.

No matter. Her priority right now was to find out the source of that noise…

There.

She heard running water and the sound of dishes clinking. With a frown, she peeked through the open doorway, her heart pounding so hard she almost felt lightheaded.

There was someone – a man? - standing at the sink doing the dishes. Her hackles immediately went up since she didn’t recognize him, but the more she stared, the more it dawned on her that there was something…familiar about him.

It couldn’t be! This person was almost a head taller than her, so how…?

She must have made a noise, because the man suddenly turned around, his slight confusion quickly melting into a little smile.

There was absolutely no mistaking it.

“Hope…?” she croaked out, actually needing to take a step back. What the hell was going on here?!

“Good morning, Light.” He didn’t seem deterred by her confusion – or maybe he just didn’t notice – and quickly crossed the room, his arms easily wrapping around her like he’d done this a thousand times. “I was wondering when you’d get up. You slept pretty late…at least for you,” he added teasingly.

“I…” She brought her hands up to his chest, intending on pushing him away, but something stopped her. “What’s going on? Are you actually Hope?” She had to struggle to keep her voice level. “Where am I…?”

“Shhh.” He pulled her a bit closer, one hand moving to cradle the back of her head. “It’s okay, Light. You’ll get there.”

“Get where?!”

“You’ll see. I know we can make it happen. We can all make miracles, Light.”

At this, she finally pushed him away, her eyes wide. “What are you talking about?!”

“You know.”

Before she could say anything else, there was a blinding flash of light that blocked everything out.

When she was finally able to open her eyes, they were no longer Cie'th.

It might have been a glimpse of the future, or it could’ve been a new Focus. She didn’t know how, when, or if that future shown to her would come to pass. None of it made any sense and there was little chance of her ever getting an explanation.

All Lightning could do was exchange a glance with Hope and move forward to do what needed to be done, wondering if the answers would ever greet them.

bean-about-townn  asked:

teach/flint(/thomas?)

(I feel this in my bones for some reason thank u for this)

Everyone knew the name Edward Teach. He wasn’t just a myth or a legend, he was a living Icon. His name evoked such an atmosphere of awe that just a single mention would make men listen close.

Upon meeting the man James decided he wasn’t quite as legendary as he seemed. He was, in fact, not what James had expected at all. 

His first thought was he’s huge. His second thought was he’s really rather huge. They were supposed to fight and all James could think of was how big the man was. How heavy was he? Did he enjoy how small other men must seem next to him? And his hands-

The fight was quick, painful, not as brutal as it could have been and Vane’s interruption only serving to make the tension thicker, more palpable. But James couldn’t help but linger and sway closer to Teach’s presence. And not just because of his height and broad chest, large hands, bright and intelligent eyes… There was the feeling of command the man exuded. James had felt the pull before; being told where to sit, how to lay, what to do with his hands or mouth when Thomas asked. He felt the old lust rise in him again and felt his body list to the side.

“Walk with me,” Teach said in a low voice, jerking his head to the side. James followed him with a look back to Billy and a shake of his head. 

They wandered down the beach, Teach clutching at the gunshot wound on his arm. When they were at the man’s tent, Teach stopped and lay a hand on James’ shoulder. 

“You’re looking at me,” he said, voice rich and dark, “don’t think I didn’t notice.”

James stiffened, ignoring the urge to both lean forward and jerk away. “I don’t know-”

Teach squeezed and James was barely able to repress the moan threatening to fall from his lips. 

“I’ve played this game longer than you, boy, don’t think I can’t see what you’re thinking.”

The hand on his shoulder moved up, calloused fingers trailing over the exposed skin of his neck and James shivered. Teach watched as James’ eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted for a sigh. 

“Weeks in the doldrums, starvation, a fight with a fellow captain… And still as pretty as a young boy,” Teach said in a soft tone as his hand clasped the back of Flint’s neck. “You want to submit to me. I know you won’t but I know you want to.”

And James did. He hated it but he did. 

Falsettos Highschool AU?

Work with me here.
So Marvin and Trina were like the power couple. Everyone knew about them and they would always say stuff like “I wish I had that”. Then one day Trina is yelling at Marvin in the hallway because she came into the boys change room to see if Marvin was there and she found him making out with the pitcher (Whizzer)? Whizzer is just like “hey what can I do he’s charming and I unfortunately like him”. And Mendel is the kinda sky kid who Marvin would tell all of his problems too, and when he hears the two broke up he meets up with Trina and he becomes her shoulder to cry on. He falls for her instantly. Trina slowly falls for Mendel and soon they became inseparable. Charlotte and Cordelia had lockers next to Marvin, and Cordelia couldn’t help but ask nosy questions about him and Whizzer. Marvin laughed it off, and soon they all started a LGBT group in the school (it wasn’t official but it wasn’t not official). Whizzer and Marvin were playing chess one day and they broke up. Whizzer soon moved away after that, but came back. Marvin asked if Whizzer could teach him baseball and Whizzer was like “okay?” But he fell for him again. But this time it was better. Everything was better. Except for that one thing in the end…

anonymous asked:

How can James look so good in red? Wow... I never thought he would look that good in that color. But damn....

The last pic I reblogged of James made me sing Taylor Swift tbh

(everytime I see someone wear red I think ‘LOVING HIM WAS RED’ okay sorry you probably don’t like taylor swift and that was random)

But James has that beautiful tan skin that looks good in anything. I mean he makes the yellow Colombian jersey look good. Not everybody can pull off bright yellow

BUT RED YESSSSSSSS.. the color of love and passion and roses… very fitting. I knew he wore red with Colombia so he’s always just looked good in it

(whoever saved/uploaded this pic on google had the phrase ‘sexy-james’ in the url akdljflsdakjf SAME)

okay work BB

even as a niño

and now Bayern!!! A stunner

👀

so beautiful… because loving him was REEEEEEEEEED

anonymous asked:

honestly im not a fan of seth anymore, mostly because he turned the whole fact that he willingly cheated on his girlfriend into a big joke, you know? david told him he was gonna make out with corinna, probably knowing he had a girlfriend, and seth couldve done everything he had to prevent the whole situation like ugh i had hopes for him to be a good person

Seth’s just generally iffy…i don’t understand why cheating is something he’s bragging about. if David knew Seth was in a relationship i don’t think he would’ve done it, even though it was Jason not Corinna

3

Updated tutorial? My advise is – use references! All those hands were drawn from the references, photos and life. There’s also loads of useful tutorials on drawing hands that explain how hands work. It’s your job to understand the anatomy and find a way of constructing hands that’s easy for you. And thank you! :)

love letters ❥ peter parker

summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.

word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)

   Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was. 

   Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been. 

    While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.

    He wrote. 

    He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did. 

   Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her. 

   “Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?” 

    Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully. 

   “Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.” 

   Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.” 

    May smiled wistfully. “I do.” 

    “And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks. 


    That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger. 

   “Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up. 

   “Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.” 

    “Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.” 

    Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.  

    Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-” 

    “No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew. 

   Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow. 

    “Do I?” He was practically sweating. 

     “I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.” 

   She called me cute

   “Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?” 

   Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint

   You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly. 

    “Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.

   “You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”   

    “Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?” 

    “You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.” 

    “Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”

    “I’m not much of a writer.”


    So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny. 

   Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much. 

   “It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?” 

   “Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”  

   You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy. 

   “Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left. 

   Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room. 

   “I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him. 

   He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him. 

    “Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him. 

     He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting. 

    “That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right. 

    “Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting. 

   Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life. 

   You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes. 

   “I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected. 

   He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”

   He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s. 

    He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.” 

    Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.

Through the Years (Part 3)

Summary: Through mysterious circumstances, you find yourself exchanging letters with a man who lived 70 years in the past.

Word Count: 1,803

Part 1 Part 2

Originally posted by yesbucky


2011

It was impossible, you knew that it was. There was absolutely no way that this letter really was from the date written on it. Yet again, it was yellowed and seemed to be crumbling. After all, it had supposedly existed for seventy years. Swallowing thickly, you began to read.


Dear Y/N,

My name is James Barnes. I am the new tenant in the apartment and would like to ask how you know about the fire that happened in the bedroom. It just happened a week ago and I was already living here. How did you know it was going to happen, that it was going to leave a large burn mark on the wall?

I’m not accusing you of anything, please don’t think I am. I am just curious.

Sincerely,

James.

Keep reading

Do That Again And I Might Just Forgive You (Tom Holland!Peter Parker x reader)(Slight smut)

Hey guys! Fourth imagine here on Tumblr! Yay! I had a lot of ideas for this one so I hope you enjoy my top pick. Don’t forget to leave prompts, questions, suggestions, and ideas in my inbox! Requests are always welcome! Love you guys! Hollanders for the win <3

- Xoxo K



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Warnings: More that slight smut but not full blown. Mostly just heavy make out sessions, mentions of sex, and the beginning to a smut. (I might write the smutty ending to this prompt but idk yet. Tell me if you want me to.)
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He ditched you once again, but this time it wasn’t just another date, it was Homecoming. You knew your boyfriend Peter was Spider-Man and you knew he had to save the city and all, so it didn’t really bother you all that much. However, Peter didn’t know that. He felt really bad every time he ditched and this time, he felt even worse. You were walking down the hallway trying to get to your locker when you heard your name being called. “Y/N!” That voice belonged to none other than Peter Parker. You turned around and saw the boy trying to get to you as fast as he could without bumping into anyone. So far he was doing a really bad job of that, mumbling a quiet “sorry” every now and then until he finally reached you. “Y/N” he said, slightly out of breath. “Yes, Peter?” You asked, giggling slightly. “I-I brought you these,” Peter said, pulling out a bag of Skittles, your favorite (If you don’t like Skittles I’m sorry, but I’m a taste the rainbow kinda girl… I encourage everyone to taste the rainbow). “Awww. Pete, you didn’t have to do this.” You sighed, happily. “I did though… I feel really bad.” Peter said, sadness in his eyes. You looked down at the skittles and then back up at Peter wondering if you could get something more intimate as apology from Peter, so you pulled out the guilt trip just to mess with him. “Peter, I’m sure we can make it up some how…” you trailed off. “I mean, nothing will be as unforgettable as Homecoming but…” Peter’s eyes locked with yours and he suddenly got an idea. “Unforgettable?” Peter spoke. “Alright.” Peter leaned in and kissed you with so much fire and passion, it would make anyone envious. His lips moved on yours like they had only one other time, the night he came to your window all battered and bruised and told you he was Spider-Man. Emotion was running wild in the kiss and in the midst of it all, you dropped the skittles to move your hands to his hair. Neither of you cared that you were in the hallway. In fact, it wasn’t until the morning announcements started, that you two even realized where you still were. You both pulled apart, your lips slightly pinker from the kiss. “Will you forgive me, Y/N?” Peter asked hopefully, hands still around your waist. Still in a sort of daze from the kiss, you looked up at him. He chuckled at your slight confusion, bringing you back from “Planet Peter” as your friends called it. “What?” You asked Peter. “I said,” Peter said, chuckling again. “Will you forgive me?” You looked smirked slightly, looking to the ground before turning your eyes up to meet his. Leaning into his ear, you whispered, “Do that again and I might just forgive you.” Peter’s jaw clenched as soon as the words left your mouth. When you pulled away from his ear, he looked into your eyes and was about to lean in, but you pulled away from him quickly causing him to shoot you a confused look. You leaned down, not breaking eye contact, to pick up your bag of Skittles off the ground. When you came back up, the words that left your mouth were like silk. Running your hand down Peter’s chest to his abs, you felt him tense. “If you want it Parker,” you say smirking seductively, moving your hand to place your finger under his chin. “You’ll have to come and catch me” You say, wiggling the bag of Skittles in your hand before taking off down the hall. Peter wasted no time in taking off after you. Oh boy… were you going to forgive him alright ;)

~ Extended Ending ~

“So you got detention…” You heard the voice of Captain America on the TV set. Peter was sitting next to you and you shot him a look of complete and utter boredom. Yeah… maybe making Peter that horny wasn’t a good idea because now you’re both in detention. “Sorry.” Peter whispered to you. You smirked slightly. “It’s fine. Don’t sweat it.” You smirked even wider. “I think we’ve both done enough of that today.” He blushed slightly and looked down at his desk. He looked back up at you with a smirk now. “Hey, Y/N?” You looked towards Peter. “Yeah?” You replied, still in a whisper. Peter nudged his head towards the teachers desk where the gym teacher was now asleep. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Peter smirked. You have him a look back. “No. Peter! We already got caught! Do you want to risk it again?!” You whisper yelled to Peter. You couldn’t deny the way you still wanted him though and you gave in to the mischief. “Let’s go!” You said quickly. Peter’s smirk got impossibly miser and you got up first. When you reached the bathroom, you shot Peter a text to let him know you were waiting. Not even a second later, Peter was out the door, running down the hall as fast as he could. As soon as he was through the door, his lips were on yours. The excitement at thought of what was about to happen, reaching your core before his fingers even did.

Originally posted by dailymcugifs

Listen the whole “question your sexuality” ideology really should only apply to people who are heterosexual, and to reverse that to apply to gay men, lesbians, and bisexuals is belligerently homophobic.

Why? Because you honestly think that we haven’t questioned our sexualities already.

Our sexualities have already been assessed, on our own and by others, because global society is predominantly heteronormative. The reason we realize we experience same sex attraction is because we’ve already had to weigh our innate attractions against the societal expectation of being attracted to the opposite sex, and we know that nothing about them – mind, body, and soul – is what we want. Or in the case of bisexuals, they know that the social expectations from both straight and LGBT people is that they should be attracted to just one type and be done with it, but that isn’t the case for them.

I would say it’s arguable that it is nearly unheard of for someone to experience same sex attraction, from any age, and not experience some sort of backlash or reasons to keep them from embracing their sexuality. Even if your parents and family aren’t homophobic, there’s still your community and schools and strangers and media and society at large where you will be told in one shape or another that same sex attraction isn’t “normal,” through either lack of representation of these feelings you have or from bigots who will tell you it’s “sinful” and wrong. The result will be to question whether you’re really gay or bi or not.

Edit: to make this a little more personal – I’m a lesbian. I’m a lesbian from a super religious upbringing, and had to fight with both my fear of damnation and my father’s wrath if he were to find out I was gay. Even at a young age I knew I wanted nothing of boys, and as I got older I wanted nothing of men – the expectations of heterosexuality were crushing, but I still forced myself to consider just forcing myself to be straight, to like men and all their minds and bodies and souls would entail, minds and bodies and souls I wanted no part of.

Telling me, and other lesbians, other people who know that we’re attracted to the same sex, to “examine ourselves” is a gross disservice to all the pain and misery of having to do so for years and years.

Home Invasion (Peter Parker x Reader)-Part 1

Character Pairing: Tom Holland’s Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3,140 (might have changed I went back a revised a bit)

Warning: Rape mentions, cussing, literally the title (if that’s even a warning you never know with Tumblr)

 You hated being home alone. When your parents first told you that they had to go to a family friend’s wedding, you panicked. You pleaded to go with them, not because you had wanted to see the ceremony, but because you couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in the apartment all by yourself. Of course they had said no, just for the sake of airfare prices, but it wasn’t that much of a letdown since you didn’t even know the bride and groom anyways. Being the stubborn girl you were though, you were relentless with your parents about going, until they finally bribed you into keeping your mouth shut. 

 Not surprisingly, you spent half of the money they gave you on takeout food, since cooking for one is just too much of a hassle. Plus, cooking for just yourself was yet another reminder that you were completely alone in your apartment. 

 Grabbing the brown paper bag of food and a soda, you made your way over to your room. You plopped down on your bed, and began to flip through channels on your T.V. It didn’t take long to find a good movie, this one in particular was actually one of your favorites, so you were quite content, getting swept up into the storyline almost immediately.

 Although, at some point while watching, you felt a wave of loneliness hit you so abruptly, it made your heart sore. You all of a sudden craved the presence of another person with you, just to keep you company. Knowing this feeling wouldn’t go away on it’s own, you called the first person you wanted to be with at the moment. Your best friend, Peter Parker.

 Tapping on his contact, and putting your phone to your ear, you waited patiently while listening to the dial go off every few seconds. Normally, he’d pick up within seconds, the sound of his eager voice greeting you was what you had expected. But after a couple of minutes of waiting, when he answered, he spoke in a low, hushed tone. “Hey [Y/N.]”

 “Hey Peter, so my parents aren’t home now and I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to come over a-”

 You stopped talking when you heard shuffling sounds and yelling on Peter’s line. Where was he? “Parker, are you okay? What’s going on?” You questioned, your voice heavy with concern. 

 As the phone was silent, you stood up from your bed and began pacing nervously, waiting for him to answer. Your worry only began to heighten every time a sound other than Peter’s voice emitted from your cell. You began to consider hanging up on him and dialing 911, but then you realized that would be pointless since you have no clue where he is. He definitely wasn’t at home judging from the sounds of cars every so often. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting anxiously, he responded. “Look [Y/N],” he sighed, a bit of guilt laced in his voice, “As much as I’d like to come over, I’m sorta caught up with some stuff right now.”

 You frowned, not only because he was rain checking yet again- even more-so when he knew you were all alone, but also because you were distraught about this whole phone call. Why was he acting so weird? Peter had been acting off for a while now, but this was a whole new level for him.

 “I’m sorry, I know how much you hate being home alone,” he whispered now, rushing through his words as if he just wanted to end the phone call, which made you even more upset. “I’ll make it up to you though, I promise.”

 As you heard the three beeps that signaled Peter had hung up, tears began forming in your eyes, causing a stinging sensation. Closing them, you pressed your fingers against your eyelids, trying to wipe away the feeling. How could he be so indifferent with you?

 Peter had been different for a while now, and you’ve grown so used to this side of him, you chose to ignore it for the most part, almost becoming blind to it. Almost. Every now and then, you would catch him in a lie while he tried to make an excuse up for why he didn’t have time to hangout with you, but you never dared to confront him about it. It just wasn’t your style. Well, it wasn’t your style until now. This was your last straw, and you promised yourself the next time you see him, you’d ask him what his problem is.

 Although you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared Peter was just blowing you off because he didn’t want to be your friend anymore. Maybe he was getting sick of you, found you to be clingy, and he was just too sweet of a guy to ever say that to your face. It was a horrible thought that made your heart hurt every time you’d think about it.

 You sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders hunched forward and your head in your hands just crying, drowning in your thoughts. Even though Peter had done this for a while now, it just dawned on you how much you missed him. The intense pain of loneliness you had felt before dulled out after a while but it still hurt. You somehow knew this discomfort you felt wouldn’t go away until you could see Peter again. You wanted to hear his melodic laugh as you told him a joke, and hell, you would sign up to be a comedian if it meant listening to that forever. You wanted to see his cute little grin when he’d walk up to your locker in the hallways at school, greeting you, his eyes lighting up when you smiled sweetly back at him. You missed the science banter between him and Ned, always being on his side, even if he was wrong. You couldn’t wait to see the next time he’d awkwardly stumble, and you as always, would laugh your ass off as you watched his cheeks bloom with a tint a of red. Don’t even get started on the way he speaks with such passion about the Stark internship. He was so dedicated to the job, it made you happy he found something that he loved so much. You missed everything about him. 

As you dozed asleep, emotionally and physically drained, you had one last thought before you completely slipped unconscious.

 I think I like Peter Parker.


 You woke up to the sound of glass breaking outside of your bedroom. It sounded a bit muffled, but it was loud enough to wake you up. Maybe it was just a cup falling in the kitchen, you tried to reassure yourself. A few moments after the crash though, you heard the distinct sound of footsteps. They sounded a bit farther off outside your room, but you knew for sure that these noises were coming from your apartment.

 Now fully alert, you swung your legs around to the side of your mattress and stood up cautiously, not wanting to make any noise. Your heart began to thump hard against your chest as you tiptoed silently to your door. A plan of escape began to form in your head, which had nothing to do with going through the main doors as an exit, but you wanted to see the intruder’s face before leaving. After all, if the police were to catch this guy when you notified them later on, they’re going to need a description. Grasping the doorknob, and giving it a slow turn, you smoothly swiveled your door open and poked your head out.

 Your eyes scanned your apartment, quickly locating the invader. Judging by their height and broader shoulders, this person was a man. His back was facing you as he was tearing apart your living room, not even bothering to keep the noise level down. 

 That’s when a thought popped in your head. He seemed to have known that your parents would be gone, since he obviously isn’t being quite stealthy. This is someone you knew. Someone who was a neighbor in your apartment. He must have assumed you had gone away with your parents if he was being so careless at the moment.

 Breaking yourself out of thought, you suddenly had a brilliant idea. It would just take being careful and waiting for the perfect moment. Grabbing your cell phone from the pocket of your hoodie, you opened the camera app, holding it up to the man. As you were waiting for the burglar to turn his face, something caught your eye on the phone screen. Squinting to try and make out what it was in the dark, your eyes widened as you put your hand over your mouth in horror when you realized what he was holding. It was a knife.

 At this point, you honestly couldn’t care less if you shot a good picture of his face or not, you just wanted to get the hell out of there. Preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and with shaking fingers, pressed the camera button.

 You knew what your mistake was seconds too late. 

 You kept the flash setting on.

 The whole living room lit up in a bright light, the burglar whipping his head in your direction. This man definitely lived in your apartment, you’ve seen him around before, but you never learned his name.

  When his cold, menacing eyes met yours, you felt the dread of your mistake wash over your whole body like a wave. It was the most horrible feeling you’ve ever felt, the realization of how dangerous this whole situation was, now that he knew you were here.

 Thinking fast, you swiftly slammed your door shut, locked it, and pushed a chair up against it. You didn’t know how you even managed to do that, since your whole body was shaking due to the fear coursing through you like venom. You ran towards your window, beginning to turn all the safety locks your parents had installed on it. 

 “You can’t escape from me, [Y/N].” The man said, his voice so sinister sounding, you couldn’t help it as a chill ran down your spine. The way he addressed you was so… final. Almost as if he was one hundred percent sure he was going to catch you. Finalize you.

 Heart rate quickening at that thought, you began using all the strength in your arms to pull up the window, but cursing loudly to yourself when it wouldn’t budge. The locks were jammed from all the years of never opening this window, you always opened the smaller one, but you were much too big to fit through that one.

 “C’mon [Y/N], think, think, think,” muttering to yourself as your eyes scanned across your room, until they landed on baseball bat. You couldn’t help yourself as you let out a cry of relief, rushing over to the other side of your room to grab it.

 Ironically enough, you always kept that baseball bat beside your bed in case anything like this were to happen. You could cry you felt so grateful that your past self was crazy-cautious enough to go through the measures of putting it there.

 You were just about to swing the baseball bat into the window to smash it when you heard it.

 First, it was just heavy pounding against your door.

 Then it was the distinct sound of wood cracking under pressure.

 He was breaking down your door.

 Knowing your door would only take a few more blows, you hastily struck your window with the bat, the sound of breaking glass sharp in your ears. The cold city wind rushed in as soon as the window had been smashed, nipping at your nose, but you didn’t care.

 You had to keep moving if you wanted to make it out of this alive.

 You swung one of your legs out of the window, straddling it, and planted your foot on the fire escape platform. The glass was cutting into your thighs and hands but you didn’t feel anything at the moment. You were numb, the only thing that mattered was escaping. 

 As you began to bring your other leg around the window sill, you saw a shadow move in the corner of your eye. Your neck snapped to the side and you couldn’t help it as you let out a shrill shriek, seeing the man break through the door with a loud CRACK, not even pausing as he stalked towards you. You stumbled onto the fire escape, and strangely enough, the panic didn’t fully set in until now. Panicking lead to not being able to think straight, and not being able to think straight lead you to making possibly the worst decision you’ve ever made: you started running up the stairs instead of down.

 A sob escaped your lips when the realization of this mistake hit you, but it was too late anyways. The man was behind you, already climbing the set of stairs you just finished going up. You didn’t dare to look back, fearing that you would freeze up if you didn’t like how close he was getting to you.

 What would happen once you reached the top? There was nowhere to go once you got to the roof. Would the man quickly end your life, so there were no witnesses to his burglary, or would he make you suffer? A shudder ran through your body as you thought about the possible ways he could slowly kill you off. 

 You didn’t know whether or not this was the final chapter to your life, but one thing was for sure. You would keep fighting until there was no use. When you couldn’t run anymore, you would crawl. When you couldn’t crawl anymore, you would drag yourself inch by inch, still trying to get away. That’s just how you were. You were too stubborn to give up.

 You were so swept up in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you had reached the top. That’s when the fear that you had pushed away this whole time, tucking it into a corner of your mind, was rushing back with an overwhelmingly intenseness to it. The feeling was so strong, it knocked the wind out of you, leaving you a heaving mess, gasping for air. This was it. You were done for.

 And he knew it. 

 The man chuckled, probably because you now stood in front of him, all thoughts of escape gone. You were like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, moving sporadically, feet planted, body frozen in place. Not knowing where to go. 

 Ever since you were young, you’d always made fun of the stupid teenage girls in horror movies that just stood in place as the killer approached them. Now in their place, you gulped down the lump in your throat as you realized how they had felt.

 The knife in his hand gleamed under the moonlight, now so foreboding-looking, you couldn’t help it as tears began to form in your eyes. Being the stubborn girl you’ve always been -not wanting to show any signs of weakness, you fought them, trying to not let any spill, but it was too late. They were already silently streaming down your cheeks.

 As you started backing away from him, not daring to turn around in fear he would jab his knife in your back, it didn’t hit you until you felt the heel of your shoe step back into nothingness: this was the edge of the roof. You had gone your limit, and now there was truly nowhere to run. A sharp pain poked at your stomach, and you let out a whimper as you looked down to see the tip of the blade pointed at you. The man was now so close, your chests were almost touching, which made you shudder with disgust. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for him to make the final move of killing you. But that never happened. 

 “Now, why don’t we stop playing games,” he said, jabbing the knife against your skin a bit more, “And let’s start having some fun.” His disgustingly grimy hands skimmed the waistband of your jeans, tugging them slightly and you recoiled as much as you could. As he began unbottoning your pants, thoughts raced your mind so fast, it was hard to keep track of them. 

 It was the way he said it that made you have a feeling what he was about to do to you would be far worse than death. So cold and unforgiving. He was looking for another way to show that he had more power than you, more control. He wanted you to be scared and backed into a corner, that’s just the way his sick, twisted mind worked. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of this: you refused to.

 “Fuck you.” You said, surprising even yourself with the way you managed to snap out those two words. It was so hatred-filled that if words could kill people, this man would be dead and gone. You spit in his face just to have one last accomplishment before you did it.

 Before you let yourself fall back.


 All you remember about falling was screaming. Screaming so loud you felt like you might rip your vocal cords in half. But you weren’t the only one screaming, the wind was too. It was whipping past your ears, blowing your hair in all different directions as you free-fell at a killer speed. This was it. You were going to die. You thought of your mom and dad, and your heart shattered in half as you realized they may think you had just wanted to commit suicide. If only they knew.

 Just as you began squeezing your eyes shut, bracing for the impact, you felt an object ram into you from the side. You let out a gasp of air as the force of whatever hit you knocked the wind out of you. As silly as it sounded, you thought at first it may have been a bird that hit you, but when your eyes snapped open you knew it wasn’t any kind of animal that ran into you. It was a human. More specifically, it was Spider-Man. He saved you.

 Noticing you were looking up at him, you felt his arm around your waist give you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He said, his voice so quietly comforting, you feel your heart beat steady to a normal pace soon after his words. Maybe it was just your imagination, or maybe you had misheard him due to the whistling of the wind as he webbed between buildings, but you could’ve sworn he added in, “I’ve always got you, [Y/N].” 


A/N: Hey guys! So when I had originally thought of this idea, I wasn’t going to make it so long, but I usually tend to draw out stories so there will be a Part 2 to this. (If everyone wants one I don’t know maybe no one will end up reading this just let me know if you’re even interested in a part 2) I was supposed to cram it all into one fic, but I thought that may have been a bit long. Also, I’m very, very sorry there was barely any Peter in this but I promise part 2 will have a ton more of my baby, and it’ll be super fluffy so just you wait!

for you final [m]

Pairing: Jin x reader x Taehyung

Genre: badboy!Taehyung

Word Count: 5,723

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking

A/N: I have been really sentimental today and have also been lying through my teeth about when I would upload this. Thank you all for being on this journey with me. I may or may not have sobbed while writing this. And I may or may not be willing to write an epilogue. Thank you for the past 7 months of support you’ve shown this series. I hope the ending doesn’t disappoint.

originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Final

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Momo almost screeches as you step out of the front seat of Mina’s car.

“Thank god,” you retort as you smooth your hands over your irritated stomach, “I don’t think anyone’s driving has ever made that car sick before.”

“Hey!” Mina protests as she pulls your bags out of the backseat, “I got us here over an hour earlier than the GPS predicted.”

Momo snorts as you shoot a glance at your speed demon best friend, “I think I have some ginger tea somewhere in my apartment. We can make you some to settle your stomach.”

“You don’t. The only thing you have in this apartment is potato chips and pig’s feet,” Sana teases as she joins all of you on the driveway of Momo’s complex.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit as you wrap your arms around your two best friends, “Please don’t leave me alone with her for that long.”

“I heard that,” Mina hisses as the car door beeps as it locks.

Sana doesn’t let go of your shoulders as all four of you proceed into Momo’s apartment, “It seems like we have a lot to catch up, but do you want to shower first? You smell.”

You sniff you armpits, “I do not!”

“That’s because you can’t smell yourself,” she gently pats your back as she barely shows your around the apartment before she is shoving you into the bathroom and turning on the shower, “We can go to dinner once you’re ready.”

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anonymous asked:

Okay, serious talking now. What would be the worst point in each paladin to attack. We know about Lance's insecurities, but what else? What about the others? I want to read your opinion because you do awsome meta and character analysis.

???????? Wow, thank you ;A; And I’m not sure if I can answer this well for all paladins but I’ll try^^ [tl;dr at the end because this post has gotten really long]


Let’s start with Lance. Lance honestly has many points to attack, which is probably why this fandom is so focused on langst. It’s easy to create content for that because we have so much to work with:

1. his insecurities about his role on the team and in general

I already wrote a lot about it here (and also here a little), desperately trying to figure out how strong these insecurities are but there is no doubt that they exist^^ Surprisingly, they actually seem to be very strong, to the point that fandom only exaggerates them slightly. Lance is just pretty good at hiding them.

2. homesickness

Lance is homesick. Really homesick. He’s homesick to the point that he would leave a party to hang out alone and get lost in his memories:

He is also the one that references his life on Earth the most often. “I missed 14 days for a stomachache in 3rd grade that I never really had”, “That’s the tagline of 6 of my favorite movies” - those are little things, not very important in the overall picture but they prove that he thinks back to his past. 

3. fear of death/unnatural things that are dangerous

Lance isn’t afraid of aliens, that’s not what I mean with it - I’m talking about the episode Crystal Venom where the castle was trying to kill him. Here is an analysis on how deeply that episode really disturbed him. As for his fear of dying - he is the one that has been confronted with death the most of all the paladins (excluding Shiro - but Shiro has lost/repressed lots of his traumatic memories). Here’s proof:

S1E1. He thought Hunk had died in the explosion when they were trying to retrieve the yellow lion. S1E4. The explosion nearly killed him - “you would have died if Hunk and Coran hadn’t gotten a new crystal” (Pidge, S1E6). S1E9. He almost got sucked out of an airlock. S2E2. The snake monster thingy got free of the stone and Lance was in the direct line of fire.

He was the one screaming “we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!!” in S2E5 when they had to hold the lenses for the wormhole maker. Lance is scared of death not despite but because he knows it the best of all of them. He almost died multiple times and he saw his friends almost dying multiple times (the Hunk thingy I included above, when he saved Coran from the explosion, when he thought he had to save Coran in “Crystal Venom”, when Pidge in the cube episode got shot down and didn’t reply to them). Look at his reaction vs the reaction of the other paladins when they thought Allura had died:

They are all shocked and disbelieving, meanwhile Lance:

He’s neither shocked nor disbelieving, he’s just hurt. One of his deepest fears became reality and there is nothing he could do about it.

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