i love the way he like looks down when he laughs

top 10 phan moments that make me wanna rip my heart out

yeah, just ten moments among hundreds, let it be part one or something. tell me what i’ve missed because i want more suffering in my life.

10) mind control.

i mean, i appreciate the subtlety. i crave those tiny moments that you only notice when someone points them out to you. but this! you can’t miss this one, this moment is shoved down our throats. this is so “i’m allowed to do that to you, to be in your personal space, and gaze into your eyes for no reason, just because i want to”. and phil’s face in that moment, so much joy and mischief, he claps his hands and gazes back.

9) chest touch.

drama queen howell strikes again, it hurts to rewatch it srsly, why is he so extra? but what is phil doing ladies and gents? he slaps his chest in the weirdest way possible, he brushes it, it’s like he wants to shove him but reassuringly and the movement happens so fast you have to pause for a second to comprehend it. that sweet gentle boy is so fond of dan’s unnecessary commentary and yeah, it completely distracts us from what dan is saying at that moment.

8) feel my heartbeat.

was that necessary, really? like, i don’t ask my friends to feel my heartbeat when i’m scared, that was such a “horror movie at first date” bullshit, that’s not what people do?? and when dan does feel that beautiful hummingbird heart, phil just covers his hand with his own palm because yes, you gotta feel it very close, no air between your hand and my chest. dan immediately looks into the camera to show us that yeah, i know you’re there, nothing strange, and makes a comment about phil dying. wow.

7) phil the delivery man.

i don’t know what to say. it’s so simple but why does phil have to make such an act of bringing dan his charger, why does he talk in that stupid voice?? they have a banter, and then phil FIXES DAN’S CHARGER FOR HIM, like what?? who asked you to do that? where’s my IT guy au (literally, he’s got glasses, look at him). and before he leaves he plays the piano that nerd, what an attention seeker, and then bows!! is he tipsy? did he have a pre-liveshow orgasm or something? dan laughs fondly and it’s all i need in the world.

6) child beer.

what’s happening and does it even matter. phil’s hiding on the floor, but why? to surprise us? eh whatever. so he’s got that magical japanese powdery stuff and he wants dan to taste it. the biggest problem for me here, ahem, i mean the thing that just kills me every time is that phil spends the whole time (eight minutes) on his knees and he looks so cute when he makes that beer, holds it close to the camera, and then lets the foam sit so dan can have the ultimate child beer experience.

it reminds me of that hot chocolate video, where he does something so trivial but he’s so gentle and loving about it. i still don’t understand why they didn’t do a simple taste test like bros, but phil had to make it for dan, he wanted to see his reaction. and then he tries it as well, touches the glass rim with his lips at the same place where dan’s mouth just was (gross).

and i just can’t ignore how that boy sneaks past dan’s room after that, he’s playful, he stops to say that he googled something and dan was wrong, and domesticity, i wanna die.

5) sleeping phil on tour.

i kinda wanna talk about the angle here because i don’t understand how it was filmed (camera is pretty static, dan’s hand reaches from the side, not behind), but i don’t know if it matters here. what matters is how gentle dan is. of course, he starts with classic nose tickling, which is what “messing with a sleeping friend” usually implies, but then he frees one strand of phil’s hair and just lets it fall. wow, fantastic prank, dan.

and let’s separately discuss that pout/kiss phil does after he opens his eyes. i know you want a slow mo replay, so here we go:

that’s what i call “im gonna stay asleep but i love you”. where’s the nearest cliff so i can fling myself into abyss?

4) the look.

context what context. why did they keep it? why did they put it on fullscreen instead of hiding in the corner? two full-length looks dan, really?? you know what he looks like, why do you have to examine him like that in front of us you slut. and it just passes, without acknowledgment, they just turn back at us simultaneously and I’M STILL DEAD at that moment, i don’t care what happens next.

3) snoot. proot. (i just filmed you doing that)

i don’t even care what it was. something about piano sounds or whatever, but this video haunts me. THERE’S SO MUCH TO IT. first, phil is lying on dan’s bed (at least in the official version it’s dan’s, not mutual), just chilling?? and dan’s working i guess. so they are not actually doing something together but it’s a cozy evening, why would they spend it in different rooms? dan says something, idk, and phil replies “yeah” in that deep voice I SWEAR i haven’t heard from him before. dan makes the sounds again, like can you believe he’s an actual dork in real life, it’s not an act, he’s actually the weirdest boy alive, and he so obviously doesn’t know he’s being filmed. because when phil says “i just filmed you doing that you’re so weird”, he’s so delighted, he laughs at himself, he turns around, his hair is pushed back omg they are both so sleepy and i rejoice. i think this video gives us a rare but fantastic insight in their everyday life, phil must be keeping so much silly videos like that on his google drive and we never get to see them BUT SOMEHOW he posts this one, probably because dan is cute and he wants everyone to know it.

2) you loved it. you wanna do it more.

so, yes. you know this one. where do i even begin?? they play this dragon quiz and then 1) phil says “you loved it” in the strangest voice, like the voice we never hear from him, it’s deeper and quieter, he looks at dan even though dan’s not looking back; 2) dan is looking down as if he’s fiddling with an ipad or something, it’s almost a bts moment, something they would usually edit out. AND THEN THREE SECONDS OF SILENCE while dan kinda processes what’s going on and phil still looks at him expectantly. seductive as fuck. and now this quiet “alright”, i’m just… dan looks like he’s gotten the hint, so he’s a little embarrassed and they share the softest laugh. 

the thing is, we know how often phil makes sexual innuendos and dan always reacts the same way: he looks into the camera, he throws a witty comment in, he puts it on display to show us that there’s no intimacy in that moment. but not this time. i don’t understand why they didn’t edit it out. i just… don’t.

1) pantless liveshow
this is the ultimate. this is the weirdest and the most awesome thing these two gave me and i’m not even sure what can top that. the moment when phil decides to grab the humidifier and show us, he looks at the screen, says “one second” and stands up very awkwardly while dan turns the laptop away from him and makes the weirdest “how you doing” face. 

WHAT THE FUCK. did they think we were so used to them weirdos that we wouldn’t even notice that shit? but fuck, they do it again, they want to show us the spray and dan goes “should i go get it? you have to do phil’s corner”. like, i can’t function, i honestly can’t. AND THE WORST PART is when dan returns and we can see him covering his legs with a blanket just too fast like it’s not that cold boy come on.

i have no explanation and i have every explanation. i don’t deserve all this suffering.

A sampling of some of the many, many universes in which Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki didn’t somehow manage to avoid each other for TEN+ YEARS and are already happily married (Inspired in part by the musings of @kiaronna and @pearlo on this topic from this post):

  • In 2010, Viktor is leaving an Olympic after party because it has just more or less dissolved into an orgy and that’s not Really his scene. In this universe, he decides not to go back to his room and instead finds his way to an outdoor seating area, which is not very heavily utilized given the fact that it’s February. There is only one other person out there–an athlete with his back turned, curled up onto a bench. The lettering on his jacket says Japan.
    “Mind if I join?” he asks, and the other man turns to reveal dark hair and the deepest eyes Viktor has ever seen.
    “Oh,” he squeaks. “No. Go ahead.”
    They sit, and talk, and three hours later exchange phone numbers. Instead of going to America to train, Yuuri Katsuki goes to Russia to train under Yakov Feltsman. He takes National gold in 2011 and marries Viktor in 2012.
  • Phichit accidentally posts a video of Yuuri doing a bit of Viktor’s 2013 free skate to Instagram, instead of the hamster video he meant to post. The video makes its way through the figure skating grapevine until, obviously, reaching Viktor. Viktor immediately DM’s Phichit, begging to know who the man in the video is.
    Yuuri wakes up to six missed calls, 609 Instagram notifications, 49 texts and a DM from Viktor Nikiforov.
    “I WAS ASLEEP FOR AN HOUR,” he shrieks.
    Phichit takes complete credit for their marriage in his speech at their wedding less than a year later.
  • Through the careful and judicious saving of money for several years, and because in at least one timeline the main waterline in the onsen and the transmission on the family car don’t go kaput in the same year, Yuuri’s family is able to send him to one of Yakov Feltsman’s ice skating boot camps when he is fourteen years old.
    Viktor is there, all shining hair and huge smile and new celebrity. He has just placed at the Turin Olympics and is on his way to becoming a Russian household name, and Yuuri has been in love with him for two years already.
    “Yuuri!” Viktor coos across the ice, over the heads of the fifteen other skaters in the bootcamp. “Keep your hips even! It won’t make it so hard to turn into your Axel!”
    “Yuuri! Don’t hunch your shoulders on the spread eagle!”
    “Yuuri! Your thigh should be parallel to the ice on that sitspin!”
    “He’s incredibly skilled for his age,” Lilia tells Yakov in the back of the rink one day. “And Vitya has been behaving remarkably well, since he came here.” She fixes her eyes on Yakov, deep and determined. “He’ll be old enough to make his senior debut next year. If we groom him through his last year of juniors, he could bronze in his first GPF, or better. I want him, Yasha.”
    Yakov Feltsman is not in the habit of denying his wife those few things she asks of him.
    Yuuri Katsuki returns home after that bootcamp to pack his things and collect his dog and hug his parents goodbye.
    “I’ll take good care of him, Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki,” Viktor assures from a Skype call. “He’ll be getting the best training in the world. I even have a poodle, so Vicchan won’t be lonely during the day!”
    Hiroko and Toshiya just smile knowingly.
    Yuuri Katsuki is newly fifteen when he moves to Russia and begins sharing a condo with Viktor Nikiforov. He is sixteen when he wins his first GPF silver, and eighteen when the Vancouver Olympics roll around and he stands below his best friend on the podium and accepts silver for Japan as Viktor accepts gold.
    He is nineteen when, after five years of glances and touches and shared secrets and tears and laughter, Viktor pulls him into bed.
    “About time,” is the general consensus to that.
    They have only been dating, dating-dating, for five months when Viktor asks him to marry him.
    “I know it’s quick,” Viktor says, “but I feel like–I feel like we’ve known each other all our lives, anywa, so what’s the point in waiting?”
    Yuuri, of course, feels the same way.
  • Viktor makes a split-second decision to touch up his make-up before a press conference at the Trophee de France 2011, and as he’s patting the sweat marks off his temples hears the definite sound of someone crying.
    “Um,” he announces to the otherwise silence bathroom. “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah!” comes the answer, shrill. “I’m totally fine!”
    “You don’t sound fine,” Viktor says, and ducks his head to see which stall has feet under it. In the last stall, he sees a pair of badly-abused sneakers. He straightens up and knocks on the door. “I’ll leave you alone if you want me to, but I can–if you want, I can show you a better place to cry. Than here.”
    It takes a moment, but the door opens. The man in front of him has watery eyes and puffy red cheeks and Viktor isn’t sure he has ever found someone so beautiful.
    “Okay,” he whispers, and Viktor leads him onto the roof where instead of crying, he stares out over the skyline and tells Viktor about his home town.
    Viktor never does discover why Yuuri was crying, but he does get his phone number–and he does visit his hometown with him, a year later, to tell Yuuri’s family that they’ve decided to get married.
  • Yuuri is somehow convinced by Phichit to go out with a group after Skate America in 2013–Phichit is in his element, leading people around the city with expansive gestures and the effortless social confidence Yuuri has come to know of his best friend. 
    “You’re from this city too, aren’t you?” asks someone at Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri turns from Phichit’s monologue to see Viktor Nikiforov of all people. Yuuri, distantly in the back of his mind, realizes that he didn’t see Viktor before because he is wearing a hat, scarf, and enormous sunglasses.
    “Um, not from here,” Yuuri says, trying not to squeak, “but I–we both live here, Phichit and I.”
    “But you know the city,” Viktor says, “so that means you would know a place where I can get the most disgustingly greasy food imaginable and you and I can go there and my coach never needs to know?”
    “Yes,” Yuuri says immediately, because he may be timid around most people, and especially around his idol, but he has more than enough sense to realize that His Time Has Come. “I can absolutely do that.”
    Yuuri takes Viktor to American Coney Island, where they eat loose burgers and chili fries and drink diet coke, which is the only cession to their diets.
    “Oh Yuuri,” Viktor laughs at the end of the night, a speck of chili cheese still at the corner of his mouth, “I could fall in love with a man like you.”
    And he does.
  • Celestino wins a radio lottery and receives tickets to Champions on Ice in Las Vegas–he decides to take Yuuri and a rinkmate. Yuuri’s rinkmate is nice, but he doesn’t know her very well, and he’s several years younger. She also has friends in Nevada who she wants to meet up with, and Yuuri doesn’t know anybody in the state for obvious reasons. On the first day they are there, Yuuri’s rinkmate disappears with her friends and Celestino takes his wife and goes exploring on the strip. Yuuri stays in his room and plays Pokemon and Skypes his mother.
    On the second day, Yuuri goes shopping for souvenirs for Yuuko and his family, and stares far too long at the billboard of Viktor Nikiforov’s face that is advertising the ice show. That night, he debates which of the three posters he brought with him he should bring to have Viktor sign, before deciding on none–the odds that he will meet Viktor Nikiforov tonight are practically not any higher than they were when the were on opposite sides of the world, and Celestino won’t want to wait in the long autograph lines.
    “Don’t you want an autograph, Yuuri?” Celestino asks after the show, and Yuuri thinks it’s nice of him even though they both know that the polite thing to do is say no.
    “No,” Yuuri says, staring at the long line, and continues out of the building. 
    They branch off then–Celestino has dinner plans with his wife, and Yuuri’s rinkmate is meeting back up with her friends for some clubbing.
    Yuuri is walking back to the hotel when he bumps headlong into somebody’s solid chest.
    “Oh, sorry,” they say, and steady him with hands on his shoulders. Yuuri looks up and finds the same icey blue eyes frm that billboard yesterday staring back at him.
    “Oh,” Yuuri whispers, wide-eyed. “You’re–”
    “Shhh,” whispers Viktor Nikiforov, pressing a finger to his own lips. “Don’t give it away, I’m hiding. 
    “VITYA,” someone from the alley leading back towards the ice center screams.
    “Come on,” Viktor laughs, and tugs Yuuri away by the hand. 
    It’s the spring before Viktor will cut his hair, and it flies out behind him in a magnificent cascade as they run.
    They find their way into a club, where Viktor buys them drinks and laughs and laughs no matter what Yuuri is saying, and then drags him out onto the dance floor. Yuuri has not yet met Phichit Chulanont, who will drag him to pole dancing classes and teach him how to move his hips like a weapon, but he and Viktor get by in the crush of bodies, pushing against each other.
    “I think I love you,” Viktor breaths against his neck, and they’re both three sheets to the wind, but Viktor is Russian and Yuuri is a college student and their tolerance is astronomical. They aren’t even stumbling. “I know we only just met, but I think I love you.”
    “Then let’s get married,” Yuuri blurts before he can help it, and Viktor beams.
    “Yes!” he cries. “Yes, let’s do that!”
    It isn’t hard to find a place that will marry them–even though Viktor’s signature on the certificate looks more like a drawing of a tree, and even though Yuuri’s tie ends up around his forehead halfway through the ceremony.
    In the morning, Yuuri wakes up with the worst hangover of his life, fully-clothed next to Viktor Nikiforov, and says, “We can–this happens all the time, we can have it annulled.”
    Viktor stares down at the ring on his finger, tangled hair all over one shoulder. Yuuri realizes that he doesn’t even rememer where the rings came from. How much did they cost? 
    “I would rather not, if that’s okay,” Viktor murmurs, and so they don’t.
    Yuuri carries out the rest of the year in Detroit, wearing the ring around his neck on a chain and thinking about his husband, half a world away, waiting for him.
Liz’s Party l Peter Parker

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

Warning: some spoilers

Pairing: Peter Parker (Spiderman) x reader

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just Spiderman,” Liz shrugged.

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

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

“No way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re having a party,” Ned asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter,” May called. “Have fun.”

“I will,” Peter smiled.

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

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

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

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

“But…you’re here too,” Ned insisted.

“Am I?” Michelle walked off.

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

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

“Hey Y/N,” Peter’s voice squeaked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter, no one wants that.”

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

“I will be there in a second.”

Originally posted by over-et

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” she smiled.

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

“Y-Yeah, how did you know?”

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

“H-He does?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TO BE CONTINUED…

Whipped Cream (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nnochu


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

Themes: Smut, baker, collage, roommate au

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

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

words: 7.5k

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

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

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


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

Keep reading

After the Parade

“Hush,” he says.

Above them, Cabal ships drag thick black smoke across the flickering twilight, and flames rise from the Tower. Legionnaires scour the streets, seeking out the cries of the wounded and afraid.

“Hush,” he says again, as the child starts to sniffle, and he pulls her into the shadows cast by an apartment block as a patrol makes its laborious way past. He was made to protect, made to serve, but he feels clumsy now; the hand on her shoulder is almost larger than her head and she has no armor to protect her bruised and burned skin from his rough gauntlets. When he tries to wipe the tears from her face he worries that he will be the one to break her.

He followed her screams, just as the Cabal did. He had no rifle to kill the Legionnaires that would have silenced her; dispatched the first one with his boot-knife but was not quick enough to catch the second unaware. It is dead, but his chest-plate is cracked and burned and the thing that eats the Traveler has also eaten his Light.

She is wearing yellow. A summer dress, for a celebration. When he offered her his gore-spattered hand she took it at once, and did not look back at the splayed and broken limbs visible beneath the rubble around her as though she knew there was no one left to wait for. He brushed dust and chips of concrete from the tight black curls on her head, and when she tried to smile her gap-toothed smile at him despite it all he knew that he would die the second death to save her.

They pick their way through dust-covered streets and alleys, one grimy hand holding his armored fingers, the other wrapped around the silent shell of his Ghost. He told her to keep it safe, and she clutches it to her chest with an intensity that would do any Titan proud.

To those behind the Wall, love and service. To those outside it, fury and fire. He is young: the Order’s maxim has never meant much to him, but here at the end of an Age he feels each word burning in his chest and he wraps his Mark around her shoulders like a cloak, like a little Hunter, to keep the nearness of the night from her as best he can.

When they hear the distant bursts of gunfire he waits until the chatter fades, then leads them in a different direction even though it gives him hope to know the City is still fighting. Perhaps if he ran to the violence he would find weapons or more Guardians, but he will not risk it. And so hours pass as they slink across the city, and as slowly as his wounds force him to move she still takes ten strides for every one of his. She has only one sandal, silver leather wrapped around a tiny leg, but he thinks that a single piece of armor is better than no armor at all.

He finds a battered pulse rifle in a street that leads to a square, tries not to wonder where its owner went. The magazine is full, but it is all he has and there is no Ghost at his shoulder to synthesize ammo. He bends to pick it up, never letting go of the hand that holds his own, just as a troop of Legionnaires turn the corner in front of them.

He pulls the child behind a crumbled wall. Waits one heartbeat, two; no slug throwers roar in response. Even so, they are between him and the direction he has lead, and he doubts he has the strength to cross the City again.

Love and service to those within. Fire and fury to those without.

The Legionnaires do not notice, but neither do they move on. More join them, and they begin to spiral out in all directions, continuing their search. It will not be long before they find him and the child. A narrow street, once hung with banners but now collapsing from the rooftops down, will lead her west, to the walls, away from Cabal patrols - as long as there is a distraction.

He lifts her chin as gently as he can.

“You have to run,” he whispers. He is bad at whispering. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“That way,” he says when she stares at him in silence, pointing with his outsized hand down the shadowed street.

He gives her a delicate push, points again. She blinks, once, then toddles into the dark, Ghost held close as though it will protect her. Perhaps, if there is a way to undo this disaster, it someday will.

He props the rifle atop the ledge, lifts his visor and sights with naked eye. There are so many, he thinks, and then bites back a laugh - there are only eight.

Love within. Fury without.

The rifle barks. One Legionnaire dies and the others spin in confusion, firing in the direction of his cover. He ignores them, squeezes the trigger again. And again. And again.

Love within. Fury without. Love within. Fury without. Love within. Fury without. Love within -

Something tugs his arm. He looks down into the eyes of the little girl, and pure terror finds him.

“I said run,” he growls, but she does not, her face set in a scowl. He shakes his arm and she does not let go.

A micro-rocket bursts against the barricade and he ducks, throws his body over her, sprays the rest of his bullets in response. The child buries her head in his cracked armor, her frail body shaking.

Never has he been so afraid to die.

He feels a fool. He tosses the rifle down, wraps one arm around the child and pulls her close. With the other he slams his visor shut. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and when at last there is a break in the constant fire he lurches to his feet, lifts the child to his chest, and runs.

It is hard, so hard, to move full Titan-plate without his Light to drive it. His body aches. Something inside is probably broken, and he does not know how long it takes a body to heal without a Ghost.

A slug hits him in the back and he stumbles but his armor holds, and he sprints down the street where he tried to send the child, the sound of jump-packs following behind. He ducks his head and cups himself around his charge, makes himself as big as he can, plows across the debris-choked pavement. The girl begins to cry again, though to his ears it is not the sound of fear but of fury, and before long he is roaring with it, and the two of them roar together down the long, narrow street as explosions scatter bits of ruins that once were homes. He does not know where he is going, knows only that he must go somewhere, that he will not stop until the child is safe or his legs no longer work; that when he has nothing left he will throw her from him and tear the Cabal apart with fists alone, Light or no.

He has stopped counting the impacts. Every step is a knife in his chest. The Legionnaires must be close but he does not turn, lest the shield that is his body fail. He can feel himself slowing, a sensation that fills him both with wonder and despair, but he cannot force himself to let her go despite his promise. Something cracks against the back of his leg, and he is too tired and too hurt to correct. He lands heavily on one shoulder, slides ten grinding yards, arms still wrapped around the child. At the very least, they will have to rip him apart to get to her. Maybe, if he dies quickly, they will not notice her at all.

Gunfire interrupts his thoughts, along with the sound of footsteps and the roar of Cabal. Hands grab him, drag him out of the street, but still he does not uncurl. He sees Hunter cloaks, Warlock robes, a Titan mark.

“Hush,” he tells the child, head still tucked close, while they cower in a doorway and around them Guardians fight.

“Hush,” he tells her, over their surprised cries of pain.

“Hush,” he tells her, over and over, until at last all is silent and he dares to lift his head and stand.

He helps the child to her feet, and though he leans against the doorway it is her tiny hand in his that keeps him upright. He looks around at their saviors: most are near as bruised as he is. They nod their heads, pat him on the back, and he opens his mouth to ask for forgiveness, for leading the Legionnaires here, but a Hunter shakes her head as though she knows what he will say.

Two Guardians lie dead. Truly dead. One Hunter, one Titan wearing the Mark of the Gatewatch. He waits the half-second for their Ghosts to revive them, feels sick when they do not rise. He swears that he will learn their names and add them to the Order of the Pilgrim Guard.

Someone makes cooing sounds and tries to take the child, tries to give her water, but she refuses to let go of his hand, refuses to surrender his Ghost. For a moment they stand there, all seven of them in a circle around her, and it is as though a different light has risen to bond them all.

They need ships. Weapons. Food, maybe. The child, at least, must eat. The Hunter offers water again, and he wonders how many new scraps of fabric she has taken for her cloak. A different Titan, this one wearing the Mark of the Six Fronts, hands him the dead Hunter’s rifle - then looks down at the child, still clinging to his hand, and passes him a sidearm instead.

They turn their backs to the Tower, and continue their slow march to the western wall. Perhaps they will find supplies along the way. If not, so be it - they are still Guardians, and they will save what light they can.

Love within. Fury without.

The Cabal have no word for ‘retreat.’ Soon, they will learn that the Guardians have none for ‘mercy.’


Words: @themothyards

Art: @artdailybykitty

3

Summary:

Peter gets bullied in school and they all say that he could never get a girlfriend, so Y/N who’s rather popular at school just kisses him in front of every one.

Words: ~ 1500

No spoilers!

A/N: This took me way too long to write… so sorry! Tell me what you think! :)

×××

Walking through the overcrowded hallway, I felt myself being to tired to move and bumped against several people. Not that I cared.

Normally I didn’t care about much going on in school, referring to the people. I did care about my grades and my career and all- but the people in school? I didn’t care at all about them apart from my friends.

It’s not that I didn’t like them. I mean, I was quite popular in school and I talked to a lot of students over the day. But honestly, I didn’t really listen when they told me about the last party or a concert they went to.

But there was one person that I cared about who wasn’t part of my friends even though I hoped I would have more contact with him. Body contact, too.

It was Peter Parker, the nobody of our school. No one seemed to notice him apart from me. His gorgeous face with the sweet hazel eyes and the fluffy auburn hair…
Yes, he was my secret crush that nobody knew about and nobody ever would.

I kept my little secret a long time, talking to him occasionally or having school projects together which lead to me falling in love with him.

He was so clever and his shy side was so cute that I just couldn’t handle it. I loved how kind he was and he always had something interesting to ramble about.

Nothing caught my attention while walking through the hall way, apart from him. I saw him standing at his locker, opening it to put a book inside. Me and my friends stopped at my best friend’s locker and I occasionally let my gaze slip to Peter for a few seconds.

I jumped when Flash and his friends appeared out of nowhere and pushed Peter against his locker after he had closed it. “What a looser you are!”, Flash exclaimed after Peter groaned loadly, getting everyone’s attention.

“Sorry to ruin your face but with these looks you won’t get a girlfriend, anyway.”, Flash claimed and his friends laughed at this comment before he pushed Peter again.
And Peter only stood there, head down, shoulders stiff while Flash threw several mean words at him.

But when Flash grabbed Peter’s backpack from his hands Peter looked up, his face filled with anger as Flash started throwing all of his stuff on the ground.
“Oh, what’s this?”, Flash exclaimed when he took a piece of paper from the ground. “DEAR Y/N, I wish i had the courage to tell you that I’d walk through fire just to see you smile…”, he started to read and I saw everyone’s eyes stare at me, making my face heat up.

I unconsciously made eye contact with Peter who seemed to be internally screaming. And while I was glued to the spot, not able to speak or think, Flash continued bullying him.

“But you do know”, he laughed, “You do know that someone like Y/N Y/L/N would never love you, right?” Oh, boy, how wrong you were…
I saw Peter’s head lowering again, his fingers brushing over his face before they ran through his hair.
Flash laughed triumphantly and suddenly I felt the strong urge to prove a point.

Someone like Y/N Y/L/N would definitely love Peter Parker.

My legs brought myself over to them, even though my friend’s arm grabbed me slightly. But I ignored it and shoved Flash ’s friends aside so that I could get to Peter.

“Peter, you told me you wouldn’t drag this old thing with you.”, I laughed, rolling my eyes and earning a very confused and very cute look from Peter.
“See? I told you that someone would think that you’re single.”

In the corner of my eye I saw Flash looking at me as confused as Peter and I smiled to myself.
And then I laid my hands on his shoulders and leaned in quickly, pressing my lips on his.

Ignoring the electricity coming from him and the urge to kiss him forever, I pulled back after a few seconds of giving in.

Peter’s face stated pure shock and he stared at me nervously before I smirked at him. “Bye, Peter, see you later.”, I smiled proudly, wandering off to my next class and ignoring everyone’s dazzled looks.

I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding. This had been life changing.

“Wait, Y/N, what the hell was that?”, my friend wanted to know, a strange look on her face.
“Spontaneous.”, I only answered, shrugging. “Yeah, I know. But what were you thinking?”, she asked and now there was a worried look that made me angry somehow. It seemed like she thinks something is wrong with me just because I kissed my crush. Okay, secrete crush. She couldn’t know this part.

“Nothing really. I just thought that Flash is a dick and Peter doesn’t deserve this.”, I simply said and only got a confused “Okay…” as an answer.

Later that day I sat down at a bench outside, my eyes roaming over the campus. I enjoyed being alone at lunch. Not because of my friends! I simply enjoyed the time to think without talking slash gossiping.

I thought about the kiss, obviously.

Was it right? Apart from the fact that probably the whole school knew it by now, Peter knew too.

But still, I was proud of myself: Helping someone by proving his bully wrong. Somehow it made me feel strong.

And there was another positive aspect, as well. I had kissed my crush Peter Parker!

Thinking of the devil… Peter suddenly stood next to me, a nervous grin on his face.
“Can… uh… Can I join you?”, he chuckled, nodding his head towards the empty seat in front of me. “Sure.”, I nodded, a smile on my face which was maybe a bit too wide.

He let out a relieved sigh as he sat down, letting his bag fall on to the ground.
“Rough day?”, I asked and he only nodded before he leaned forward slightly, his arms supporting his weight.

“Uhm, yeah.”, he replied before biting his lip, my eyes not being able to look at something else but him.
“Actually, it wasn’t that bad.”, he chuckled softly, his brown eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah?”, I grinned and he just nodded with a cute smile on his lips. Oh, how soft those lips had felt on mine…

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before my mind brought back the letter that Flash found in Peter’s backpack.
“Uhm, Peter…”, I started but paused briefly when his beautiful eyes stared at me, “I was wondering… I mean… would you… Would you really walk through fire to see me smile?”
He nodded instantly without a word, nervously fiddling with his fingers before my hands grabbed his. I couldn’t help but smile, my heart beat running in my chest.
“You know, you don’t need to do this. I start smiling as soon as you smile at me.”, I clarified, earning a grin from him and I returned it instinctively.

“Uh, I… um, I wanted to thank you for… you know.”, he began and I only shrugged, playing it cool,“No problem.”
“But the whole school thinks were a couple now.”
“Is that bad?”, I wanted to know, a flirty tone in my voice.

Peter shook his head, causing his brown strands to dance on his fore head. “No, it’s not bad at all.” He clearly gained some confidence when I grinned at his answer. “I liked kissing you.”, he confessed, tilting his head. “No, that’s an understatement. I loved kissing you.”

“That’s good.”, I laughed before grabbed the collar of his shirt and nearly pulled him over the table to feel his soft lips on mine again.

He was able to place his fore arms on the table to support his weight before our eyes closed and our lips met. He hummed softly when I started moving my lips and my grib on his collar loosened since I had him where I wanted. My cheeks blushed due to all to blood that my heart pumped through my veins and I felt the excitement rushing through my whole body.
My fingers wandered up to the back of his neck, playing with some of his strands after Peter tilted his head to deepen the kiss, causing my mind to go mushy.

He pulled himself back slightly, a huge grin on his face when I ran my fingers through his hair. “You like me.”, he breathed out and I nodded before I pecked his lips briefly.

He leaned back again, giving me a charming smile. I had to bite my lip to hid that huge smile on my face which Peter saw anyway and I felt my heart skipping a beat.

This one question wether I wanted to be Peter’s girlfriend was definitely in his head but there was no need to voice it.

He knew that I was in love with him.

Movie Date

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader, slight Stony

Request:

Could you please write a Peterxreader where reader is the youngest member of the team. One day they have a movie date in the tower and the team spies on them?Could it be in the point of view of the team?[bonus points if deadpool is in it] thanks <3            


Wade has created a chatroom.

Wade has added Natasha, Tony, Thor, Bruce, Steve, Clint, Vision.

Clint: What, Wade?!

Tony: Can we text later? You’re going to distract me!

Bruce: I need to ask, but is it not weird that us, adults, are spying on Y/N and Peter, our youngest and most loved members movie date in a very cramped up spot?

Natasha: If you don’t like it, then you can leave, Banner. It’s not weird. We are just being protective parental units/uncles/adopted android sibling.

Vision: Overprotective*

Steve: Should they be sitting so close? Natasha, should they? Maybe I should go in and sit between them.

Tony: I will kick your ass, Rogers! Don’t you dare ruin their date!

Thor: Grab him, Stark! I shall lay Mjolnir upon him so he may not move.

Steve: Try it and I will run off with Mjolnir!

Thor: You? Worthy? HA! Do not fight us!

Steve: I know you have your doubts. I know deep down you know that I was faking not being able to lift Mjolnir. Would you like to test me?

Thor: Anyone has any rope?

Keep reading

The Photograph

Hi babes! This is a fluffy oneshot about Peter having a crush on one of Michelle’s friends at Midtown High. One day, he spots her reading outside and secretly takes a photo of her because he thinks that she looks too perfect to go unseen, and he pins the photo up in the back of his locker. Everything is fine until Flash Thompson gets his hands on Peter’s photo and brings it to her attention. After that, awkward cuteness ensues and I hope that you all like it!

The Photograph

Hot licks of pain seared throughout Peter’s body. His lip was split, there was a purpling bruise on his temple that was accompanied by a headache so powerful that it’s aching refused to be ignored. Even walking from class to class was taking a toll on Peter. He was exhausted and in pain, but Peter remained hellbent on keeping Queens safe, no matter the cost.  

    Peter’s eyes glazed over and his body was ready to shut down. Doing his best to keep himself up on his feet, he focused on the photo that he had tacked up of her in the back of his locker.

    In the photo, the girl was outside, hidden beneath the shade of a rather large tree. She was stretched out on a light pink blanket, a copy of Charles Baudelaire’s, ‘The Flowers of Evil,’ open in front of her. There was a carton of fresh strawberries and a rather oversized iced coffee balanced haphazardly against her backpack on the ground with her, and every so often, Peter recalled how delightedly blissful she looked each time she bit into a ripe berry. The sun’s rays, the soft breeze wandering through the tree’s leaves, and the chatter bumbling down to her from their shared high school didn’t even faze the girl. Her mind remained with the poet’s.

    After a few minutes of watching her, Peter felt soothed. Everything about her made him feel better. He loved the way she licked her lips after she ate, he loved the way that she read her favorite verses aloud, he loved the way that she laughed at herself when she nearly spilled her coffee, and he loved the way that she helped him forget about the constant stress that was now heavily present in his life.

    When Peter finally snapped the photo, she was laying on her side, one hand wound into her silky hair to keep it out of her eyes, and the other hand holding her poetry book open. Her eyes were focused on comprehending the poems on each page, but she wore a soft smile on her lips that made it clear that she wasn’t scrutinizing anything too intensely. The girl was merely enjoying her free period in the sun and Peter longed to do the same.

    Since then, Peter looked for her in almost every hallway, in every classroom window, and everyday at lunch. They’d spoken a handful of times, seeing as they were in the same history class, but other than class discussions, Peter hadn’t mustered up the nerve to say hello outside of an intellectual, in-class debate.

    One day, she was late to history and when she’d walked into the room, she found that her normal seat next to the window had been taken, so she headed towards the first empty desk she saw. Peter, already occupying one of the seats, nearly suffered a heart attack when she placed her binder next to his and offered him a quiet “good morning.”

    It had taken Peter a few seconds to force his brain to form a response to her and then to get his mouth to open and say the words that his brain was attempting to communicate back to her. When he stuttered out, “hey, yeah, good morning,” she didn’t tease him for his weirdness, instead she smiled at him and Peter could’ve melted onto the floor right then and there.

    During that day’s lecture, their teacher was detailing women’s struggles throughout the years to gain the 19th amendment, which won women of all colors, and social standings the right to vote. She scribbled down notes and nodded in agreement with the teacher as she spoke of Ida B. Well’s, Lucy Burns’ and Alice Paul’s courageous actions in the suffrage movement. It was only after Flash Thompson opened his mouth that Peter observed a frown cross over her features.

    “Why didn’t they just keep doing what Florence Kelley advised? If they had followed her directions, they wouldn’t have gotten radical and thrown into prison. Florence Kelley was meeting with President Woodrow Wilson, and he explained to her why he couldn’t grant women suffrage right then, but he said he would going forward. The National Women’s Party didn’t know what they were doing, and furthermore, they set the women’s rights movement back with their crazy antics.” Flash finished, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

    Glancing over at the girl in the chair next to him, Peter knew that not only was Flash painfully incorrect and uneducated, but she was clearly getting ready to put Flash back into his place.

    “Wow, that’s actually so, so, so wrong.” She started, turning slightly in her chair to face Flash, “if Florence Kelley had kept asking President Wilson to recognize women as intelligent, reasonable beings capable of making a decisive decision, it’s unlikely that the 19th amendment would’ve been passed in 1920. The only reason women were granted suffrage is because of The National Woman’s Party. These women marched, were beaten in the streets, picketed in front of the White House, and were thrown into jail for the good of women everywhere. President Wilson only granted women the right to suffrage after women were dying in prison due to the hunger strike Alice Paul began. Not to mention, while these women were imprisoned, they were denied basic human rights and the entire reason they were in locked away in jail was because they were blocking traffic on the sidewalk. It took drastic measures to humanize women in men’s eyes and without the heroic antics of these women, who knows where women would stand today. I mean, a woman’s right to her own body is something that could be taken away at any moment, and women are constantly battling the image that men have imposed upon us. Therefore, your opinion is invalid because you apparently cannot grasp the severity of the situation, past and present.”

    Peter, as well as the rest of the class, was stunned into silence. Normally, she didn’t partake in class discussions because she was shy, but now that she had, everyone in the room was shocked by the intellect that she had just destroyed Flash with. Peter wanted nothing more than to hear her speak all day, and maybe to introduce her to Aunt May.

    Peter could barely focus as Michelle began to back her up. Leaning closer to the wonderfully insightful girl next to him, Peter let her know just how clever he found her. “That was amazing, everything you said was perfect and spot-on. That was the greatest thing that I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait for you do it again.” Peter congratulated the girl.

    “You don’t think it was too much?” She asked worriedly, biting her lip and fiddling with the pencil in her hands.

    Peter shook his head, his eyes wide, “No, no! Absolutely not! You would’ve made Alice Paul very proud.”

    Placing a hand atop of his, she thanked him with a smile. “You’re the best, Peter,” she said before turning her focus back to their teacher.

    After that, she had joined Peter on Flash’s hit-list, so Peter should’ve known better than to try and relax with his locker wide open. Peter was knocked out of his daydream of going home to her and simply curling up around her to sleep by Flash’s grabby hand, first shoving him out of the way, and then stealing his photo of her.

    As Flash rushed down the hall, Peter struggled after him, both boys trying to beat each other to where she stood deep in conversation with Michelle about the numerous male authors whose most famous novels were stolen works from their wives.

    “Flash, don’t” Peter shouted, as he tried to ignore the shooting pain traveling up his body.

    “Too late, Penis Parker,” Flash called as he weaved gracefully inbetween students to get to their target.

    “Oh my gosh,” Michelle muttered, rolling her eyes as she nodded her head towards the two boys heading their way. “Losers.”

    “His lip is bleeding,” She said, concern lacing into her tone. “Do you think he’s okay?”

    “Your boyfriend is fine, probably tripped over a lego or something on his way to the bathroom and banged his head into the wall on his way down.” Michelle tried to reason with her friend. She’d detected that her friend and Peter had the biggest of crushes on one another way before either one of them had, and she had made it her mission to mock them every chance she got.

    Flash was the first to reach the two girls, holding up the photo of her that Peter had taken of her reading outside. “Parker, Penis.” He wheezed, “Penis Parker took this picture of you and had it taped up behind his textbooks in his locker.” Bending over to soothe the splint in his side, Flash handed the photo to the confused girl in front of him.

    As Peter came to a stop in front of her and Michelle, he groaned and threw his hands up into the air, uttering a barely audible, “fuck.”

    When the girls saw Peter up close, they found that Peter was barely recognizable due to all of the bruises masking his pale skin. Quickly handing the photo to Michelle, the girl surged forward, lightly grabbing onto Peter’s sweater to steady him. “Peter, what happened to you? You’re hurt,” she questioned, growing a little more distraught as she studied him face to face.

    “The picture, I’m sorry, I know it’s so creepy. I didn’t mean to be a weirdo and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I swear that I’m not stalking you.” Peter mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to keep his lip from bleeding.

    “Peter, I don’t care about the photo. What happened to you? Oh no, your lip is bleeding,” She rambled, steering Peter towards the bench nearest to them. “Sit,” she instructed, digging through her backpack for a tissue to dab Peter’s cut with.

    “You’re seriously not going to say anything about the picture he clearly took of you?” Flash whined, refusing to accept defeat.

    Michelle raised her eyebrows, “No, I think it’s disturbing too. You’re not alone in that, Flash.”

    “Do you need ice?” She asked Peter, guiding Peter to look up so she could inspect his face for any further damage. “You need ice, Michelle, could you please go get him ice? Flash, could you please go away?” She asked, looking at the pair over her shoulder.

    Flash was nearly beside himself, “it’s weird! You have to acknowledge that it’s weird that he not only took a photo of you without your knowledge, but that he has it pinned up like you are his girlfriend or something? Really not going to say anything about that?”

    “For all you know,” she said, turning to face Flash as she did that day in class, “Peter could very well be my boyfriend!”

    Peter’s jaw dropped so far that she had to readjust his head to keep the tissue on his open wound. Gently prying her helping hand from his lip, “wait, really?” Peter asked. “You’d be my girlfriend after all this?”

    “This is disgusting,” Michelle interjected. Handing Peter’s photo back to him, she grabbed Flash by the collar of his polo shirt and dragged him down the hallway. “We’ll be back with ice and some band-aids.”

    She and Peter could hear Flash’s discontented grumbles as he followed Michelle down to the nurse’s office to retrieve some medical aid for Peter.

    “Are you really not freaked out?” Peter asked, staring up at her with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.

    Sighing, she moved to stand in between Peter’s legs to inspect how much further his lip had split. “If you keep talking, the cut is never going to heal. This,” she gestured to Peter’s clearly damaged frame, “freaks me out more than anything. What’s happening to you? If I can help you, please let me. I care about you and I hate that you’re hurt.” She pouted.

    She was so close that Peter could smell all the floral notes in her perfume, and if he wanted to, he could hug himself close to her and never let go. “I can’t tell you what’s happening, but if I stop, things will get worse. Not just for me, but for everyone. I’m trying to help.”

    Running a hand through his hair, she shook her head. “Then let me help you. If you’re helping everyone, you deserve to have someone help you, and I want you to let me be that person, Peter.”

    Pinching the palm of his hand, Peter spotted Flash and Michelle returning with ice, ointment and bandages in hand, and he knew that he had to be quick. “It would really help me if you went out to dinner with me. Just being with you would help me. That’s why I took the picture of you. Every day that I felt like I was drowning, I would look at you, well the picture of you, and it would help me to breath again.”

    “Pick me up on Saturday. I’ll be ready at 7:30,” she agreed, much to not only Peter’s, but Flash’s surprise.

    “Come on!” Flash hissed, “how is it that Parker gets a date with a hot girl after he hides in the bushes and takes secret pictures of her? What the hell is going on right now? Do I live in the twilight zone?”

    “For fucks sake, Flash.” Michelle muttered, turning to him with squared shoulders, “she clearly knew that he was taking the photos of her. Who would smile while reading ‘The Flowers of Evil?’ And beyond that, she’s liked him for months and he’s liked her for months. All you’ve really done is finally bring them closer together. Congratulations Flash, your plan has officially backfired.”

    Flash groaned throughout the rest of the day and Michelle planned on teasing him for the rest of the school year. The girl’s cheeks were flushed pink until she went to sleep, and Peter couldn’t stop smiling, even though it only made the split in his lip worse.

   


Through the Years (Part 7)

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

Word Count: 1,463

“Through the Years” Masterlist

A/N: Guys, this is one of my favorites. I’m loving it so far!

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid


Steve stopped mid-step, forcing you to move past him and close the door. He was completely solid, unmoving, eyes darting everywhere as he took your semi-empty apartment. You tilted your head and gave him a curious look before you remembered.

He lived here. This was his home.

His eyes teared up again. “It’s—” His voice broke before he gave a breathless laugh, loaded with the sadness inside him. “It’s so different, but it’s still the same.”

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Guys, I have so much to tell you about Will Roland

I may die penniless, unwed, and forgotten, but I will still die happy because I spent four hours of one long-ago summer in a song interpretation master class taught by Will Roland. 

I don’t even know where to BEGIN. To quote Rachel Bay Jones, Will…*bursts into laughter* oh my God, there’s so much Will.

Ramblings about Will Roland under the cut. This is my day with Will Roland.

Keep reading

To be young

Title: To be young

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

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

Word count: 2,145

Songs: Midnight City by M83, Uh huh by Julia Michaels

A/N: This is my first Imagine ever so I’m sorry for the grammar mistakes and if i messed up the point of view a little bit, I’m practicing and heres my first go at it! I hope you guys enjoy it! Also its not a concrete idea yet but i might make more parts to this 



  “Hey, MJ does Peter ever talk about me?” you ask staring across the lunch room at the boy you’ve had a crush on ever since you laid eyes on him in the 3rd grade. You hear Michelle sigh and close her book “Y/N just go over there and talk to him.” your eyes widen at your best friend for suggesting such a thing. “I can’t just go over there and talk to him without cause, plus..” you sigh sinking further into your seat at the lunch table “he likes Liz, remember?” Just before Michelle can get a word in about your lack of confidence towards guys, the bell rings signaling the end of lunch and beginning of the five minuet passing period to the next class.

You quickly gather your things heading out of the lunchroom and to your next class, gym.

“Hey, Y/N wait up!” you hear the familiar voice of Liz speak as everyone makes their way out of the locker rooms and into the main gym. You falter in your walk just a little hearing Liz say your name, you haven’t ever really been friends or even acquaintances with her since knowing that Peter has a crush on the girl. “Yes?” you smile as she slows her pace next to you “I’m having a party tomorrow night at my place, do you wanna come?” your mind goes blank for a minuet, Liz is asking me to her party? what? “I already asked Michelle if she could come and she said you were free so i thought i’d ask.” Liz practically read your mind, so Michelle is to blame, she’s gonna pay. “Yea, sure I’ll come, it sounds fun.” She smiles before she runs off ahead of you. “Hey Flash,” You hear her shout before she vanishes into the crowd of teenagers.

“Alright, well i think he’s a war criminal now but these are state required so lets get to work .” The gym teacher spoke after the video of Captain America ended waving his hand for everyone to get down from the bleachers and take their places on the mats.

You finally spot Michelle in the crowd of teenagers and grabbed ahold of her arm before she could lay on a mat. “Hey could we be partners?” You ask letting go of your bestie laying on the mat, “Mind if we take this mat next to you guys?” A voice that made your heartstrings tingle spoke, you quickly turn your head to see Peter laying down and getting ready to go his first sit-up. “No-not at all.” you blush and turn on your other side to come face to face with a book “Michelle” You groan louder than intended, “We’re suppose to be doing sit-ups.” You grab the book tilting it away from her face, Michelle sighs and turns on her back pushing her book up and down from her face “There happy, I’m exercising now.” She mumbled making you laugh slightly.

“Hey what about Spider-Man?” You sit up and whip your head around to the bleachers where a certain group of popular girls were sitting, “What about him Liz? You got a crush?” a friend of hers teased, “Well I mean yes he’s pretty hot but he’s also a hero you can’t leave him out.” You could see a slight pink shade her cheeks after she spoke.

“Hey, uh Peter knows Spider-Man!” Ned practically yelled from the mat next to you, what? how does Peter know Spider-Man? I mean maybe he got saved by him? But what? You were pulled from your thoughts when Peter spoke, “Well Uh  we-wel yes i do, because of the Stark internship i have but i’m not suppose to talk about it.” Peter spoke through gritted teeth when he ended his sentence. “Wait Penis Parker knows Spider-Man? And has a Stark internship? Wow this is too good, what other lies ya got?” Flash finally joined the conversation. You sighed and turned your attention back to laying down and staring at the ceiling till the end of the period.

“Well if you know him so well why don’t you invite him to Liz’s party tomorrow night?” Flash asked sarcasm clear in his voice, “Wait-wait Liz is having a party?” You perked up again at the sound of Peter’s slightly hurt voice. “Yeah, tomorrow night, my parents are out of town, you and Ned are more than welcome to come and you don’t gotta bring Spider-Man.” You could practically hear the smile in Peters voice when he replied “No-No yeah I’d love to come.” You rolled your eyes and tried to drown out the rest of the conversation.

“Okay, see ya tomorrow.” Liz spoke before the bell rang, finally. You make your way back to the locker room and change out of the gym uniform and into your regular clothes.

Well tomorrow night should be interesting, I wonder if Peter really knows Spider-Man you smile at the thought, that’d be fucking awesome.

Michelle and you took the bus together after school planning on having a sleepover and carpooling to Liz’s party the next day. “I can’t believe you already said i would go without asking me.” you lightly punch Michelle on the arm while getting ready for bed. “Hey what better things do you have going on tomorrow, staring at peter though the peep hole of your apartment again?” Michelle teased, you gasped and placed your hand on your heart pretending to be hurt by the comment. “Michelle that is an important activity and I cannot miss it.” You dramatically said and plopped down onto your bed for the night, the couch. Michelle and you always sleep on her couch for sleepovers, its big enough and comfy as hell.

“Oh whatever Y/N.” she groaned taking her place on the couch and turning on the tv. Within minuets your eyes start to get heavy, you finally give into the sleep tugging at you and fall asleep.


“Thanks for the ride!” you shout at Michelle’s dad before Michelle slams the car door shut. MJ and you start towards the front door already hearing the loud music coming from inside. “Michelle are you sure about this?” You ask grabbing her arm forcing her to stop and look at you “Look Y/N, when are you ever gonna do something like this ever again. Plus, its all apart of the high school experience.” She shrugged making her way to the front door and inside with you trailing behind her.

You were immediately greeted by Liz and shown the way to the kitchen “incase you need something to drink” Liz told you leaving you and focused her attention back onto the party. “Ok so now I Just wait for something to happen?” you spoke to yourself as you grabbed a red solo cup and filled it with water from the fridge. You made your way out of the kitchen and to the couch in the living room, where did MJ go? I’m like the only other person besides Liz she knows here so where - your thoughts were interrupted when your eyes met with the chocolatey eyes of the boy you’ve been waiting for all night.

You smile towards Peter earning a grin back from him before his attention was sent somewhere else, probably Flash shouting “wheres your friend Spider-man? I don’t see him..” You rolled your eyes and made your way over to the duo standing in the middle of the hallway, “Hey hey guys,” you nervously spoke “Finally made it.” you smiled over at Ned, his attention on the rest of the party and not you. “Yeah we got-” Peter got interrupted by a shout from the family room “If you wanna play a game come to the family room now!” you felt a hand wrap around your arm before you could protest you were in the family room seated next to Liz, Peter diagonally across from you with ned next to him and Michelle on your other side.

“Alright,” you heard Liz speak next to you “what game should we play.” a couple of hands flew up in the air and some people shouted suggestions. “How about Seven Minuets In Heaven?!” one voice shouted louder than the others, you looked over at Liz to see she was already ginning with a bottle being handed to her. “Seven Minuets In Heaven it is.” She quickly snapped her head over at you “Y/N, you spin first.” she shoved the bottle into your hand.

“No-no I’m really fine-” you didnt get to finish when you felt a sharp pain in your side from Michelle, your head spun to her side giving her a “what the hell!” look and receiving a shrug in response. You sucked in a breath, all apart of the high school experience right? you tried to reason with yourself. You put the bottle on its side on the ground and spun it, your heat begins beating faster and faster as it comes to a slow down. The bottle finally comes to a stop and your eyes rake up to where it landed, Peter Parker.

You gulped waiting for his reaction as people around him whopped for him but he just sat there eyes wide. “come one you too!” Liz sounded so gleeful and lightly shoved my shoulder for me to get up. Peter must’ve took that as a hint as well and stood up “Wher-uh What closet should we go to?” Peter asked clearing his voice. “the one right at the top of the stairs, we’ll make sure no one goes in.” Liz smiled at Peter and you while you made your way up the stairs. Oh god, what am i going to do, what if he doesn’t want to do anything with me? what if he kisses me and I’m not a good kisser or my breathe stinks- you were ripped out of your thoughts as the closet door was closed and Peter and you were left in the dark.

“uh we-we don’t have to do anything.” you whispered barely audible as you watched Peter set a timer on his phone for seven minuets. “Wh-why don’t we ask each other questions?” Peter asked making a blush creep onto your face, thank god this closet is dark and peters phone light is horrible. “sure-e” you nervously stutter, “you first.” you poke his chest earning a small laugh from him. “Okay, is it true that you have a 4.0 grade average?” You couldn’t help the laugh that  escaped your lips, “What?” Peter asked you could hear the confusion in his voice, “thats the question you wanna ask?” you placed your hand on Peters arm, what am I doing? I’m movign way too fast, “Is that bad?” Peter moved closer to you making you back up into the wall of the closet, your smile fading and a deeper bush replacing it. “uh-no no, I’d just rather not answer it.” You spoke truthfully, “alright,” you could see the smile form on peters face as he inched closer to you.

“your turn.” he whispered making your breath hitch in your throat, he’s so close, if i just move forward slightly i’d finally have my first kiss and with the guy of my dreams, you thought. “you got a question yet?” Peters smile started fading looking into your eyes, “uh- yes, did you really make your own computer?” your eyes scanned peters, he’s so close you can see his beautiful brown ombre iris’s, dark brown to a slightly lighter brown. Your breath hitched in your throat again as Peter flashed his eyes down to your lips for a split second. You start to lean into him, closer and closer to his face when your lips just barely graze each other and then Peters phone goes off.

He jumped back slightly from the sudden noise and looked down at his phone, “Has it already been seven minuets?” You laugh slightly feeling embarrassed for getting so intimate with Peter. “No..” he paused looking up from his phone and into your eyes “But i gotta, I’m really sorry Y/N, I gotta go.” He shook his head slightly before opening the closet and leaving you behind. you stood there shocked, not able to move. Peter and I almost kissed was all you could think as a deep blush crept back onto your face.

You exited the closet and went to see if you could find him at the party anywhere. you got a few weird looks after asking some people if they saw him anywhere but no one could help, not even Ned knew where Peter went.

“Well it’s too bad, we didn’t even get to see his ‘friend’ Spider-Man.” Flash spoke sarcastically to you, you just turned around to go look for MJ and tell her about what had happened, how you almost kissed your life long crush and how he almost kissed you back.

inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

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

word count : 2.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “Can you- um, well-” 

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “Anything’s possible!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “With Peter.” 

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

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

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

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

Anything For You

Me? A sucker for the wedding trope.
Hope you guys like this one though <3

Title: Anything For You
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: Peter is your date to a wedding and all your relatives love him. Just one issue: you’re not actually dating.
Word Count: 1,640
Warnings: None
Tagged: @tmrhollandkay @kindnesswins @melconnor2007 @mcheung0314

Your name: submit What is this?

           "Y/N,“ Peter coughs as you tighten his tie. "Chill.”

           "Sorry,“ you say quickly, loosening the knot just a bit.

           He gives you a good-natured smile, adjusting the collar of his shirt a bit. Staring in the mirror, Peter fixes up a few other aspects of his appearance as you watch.

           "Thanks for being my date to this thing,” you tell him. You’ve already expressed your appreciation to him multiple times, but you still felt the obligation to say it.

           Peter’s adjusting a few strands of his hair as you speak. He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and gives you a reassuring smile.

           "It’s no problem,“ he insists, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Anything for my best friend. Besides, I couldn’t let you suffer through the ceremony alone.”

Keep reading

Where Is He?

Request: I saw you wanted some angsty tom holland spider man requests >:3 you should write something where the reader gets kidnapped by someone who found out she is dating Peter, and they try to get her to reveal his location and secrets about him but she refuses to and they torture her. You can make an extra angsty ending or a fluffy one! Love you!

Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: Ooooh! Thank you for the request, love. I love you too ;) 

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Warnings: angst. torturing of the sort, a bit of sexual implications but not much.


Originally posted by j-murphy

“We know you’re dating him. There’s no point trying to fake it.” You felt your breath stuck in your throat as your eyes warily watch the knife tracing your arm. You fought your wrist restraints, trying to break free but it was helpless. Whoever had kidnapped you had used tough rope and wound it around your wrists tightly. It didn’t help that they’d strung your wrists so high that you could barely stand on your own feet. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spat at the man before you, holding your head out before you defiantly. “And even if I did, there’s no way i’d tell you.” You watched with terror as the man before you tightened his grip on the knife, pressing it lightly into your arm. You bit your lip, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out.

You’d expected him to continue, continue cutting until he finally managed to hear you cry. But instead the man stopped, pausing in his efforts. You watched him step closer to you, so that his face was only a mere inches from your own. You held your breath, backing your head as far as you could against the wall. You hated being the damsel in distress and you hated it more that you were being used for information, but there was no way in hell you give Peter up so you wouldn’t be hurt. Speaking of, it’d be really nice if he showed up around now…

“You know…” The man started, tilting the long knife threateningly in front of your face. “I’ve been watching you, well you and Spider-Man. I see the way he cares for you, which is exactly why I went after you. Even if you don’t tell me anything, he’ll fall for my trap to come save you and i’ll have him right where I want him.” You bit your lip, kicking out your lip in frustration knowing that the man in front of you was exactly right. Peter would come save you and there was nothing you could do to warn him that it’d only be a trap. “I’ll enjoy killing him in front of you.” 

“He’s stronger than you think.” You argued, shaking your head at his threats. The man only chuckled at your defiance, biting his lip in thought as he stared at you. You watched him warily, unsure of what he’d do before he shocked you, reaching his arms out and grabbing ahold of your top. You immediately knew of what he’d do and you opened your mouth to plead but was a second late as you heard the sound of fabric rip. 

You flushed in embarrassment as your bare stomach and bra came into view. You tried to press your elbows together, a feeble attempt at covering yourself.

“You’re very beautiful. I can see why Peter likes you.” The man commented, allowing his eyes to roam your shape. For a moment you feared of what he’d do, something that would be way worse the slicing your skin. But you allowed yourself to breath again when he grabbed the knife again, shaking his head; “i’m not gonna hurt you. Not in that way at least.” He confirmed, and despite the impending doom you knew faced you, you felt relief at the fact that he wasn’t going to touch you like that.

“Fuck you.” You spat, eyes crinkling in disgust.

“Feisty.” The man stepped towards you and you sucked in a deep breath, leaning up on your wrists and pressing your back against the wall. It did nothing to stop the man as he effortlessly stepped forward, making sure you were looking at him as he pressed the knife against your bare stomach, sliding it down your stomach. You could feel the blood drip down your stomach as pain shot through you.

You clenched your hands together, pressing your lips together in last hopes of keeping whatever yell of pain you’d have in. It only seemed to please the psychopath more, to see you struggle not to cry out. He laughed cruelly, a smirk on his lips as he placed his knife at your hip, pressing into it. There was nothing you could do as a scream burst through your lips, your ankles wobbling as you slumped, falling against the man. He did nothing but pushed you back up, “that’s it. Scream.” 

He sliced down your arm again, across your stomach, by your ribs. And all throughout you screamed in pain. No matter how much you pleaded he only continued, repeating the same question; “where is he?” Still you refused to answer, bit your tongue, and suffered through the pain.

It wasn’t until this had been going on far too long did the man show signs of frustration. He screamed in your face, calling you every name in the book as he slammed every bit of anger at you. “Damnit! Where is here?!”

“Right here.” You snapped your head to our left, finding Peter Parker in his Spider-Man suit standing above some rumble. Your heart fell at the sight of him, shaking your head in a desperate plea to go. You watched as your capturer turned towards you with a sick smile; “told you.” And then he was gone from your side, running towards Spider-Man who almost immediately fell into battle.

You tried your best to fight your restraints, your voice coming in a raw scream if Peter was knocked to the ground. He’d only nod your way, sending a reassuring smile as jump back into action. You watch him be beat on, fall and be thrown to the ground. But you watched him get back up from the ground, with renowned strength. You watched as the man finally fell to the ground and Peter delivered one final blow, knowing him out. 

He ripped his mask off his face, immediately running to your side. Peter said nothing as he scrambled to untie your restraints, you falling onto him almost immediately. He repeated your name in alarm, repeating you’d be okay and you didn’t know if it was for you or for himself. It didn’t matter, all that mattered is that you told him the truth. “I didn’t tell him anything.” You whispered, and he set you on the ground, brushing stray hair from your face.

“I know. I know.” Peter nodded down at you. “Oh, god. Y/N, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“No.” You repeated sternly, finding whatever last strength you could. “No it’s not. I knew what I was signing up for.”

“Bu-”

“But nothing, Peter. I love you, and that will not change.” He shook his head at your stubbornness, smiling lightly down at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Let’s get you to a hospital.”

The way Isak repeats the wifi password after Sana looks at him like “are you for real?” just imagine all the shit he already got for it from the boys.

  • Just imagine the boys coming over after the TV has been set up (after the bed the first thing that was done in their flat) and Mags calling “Yo, Isak, what’s the wifi password?” and Isak sticking his head out of the kitchen and calling back “Gule gardiner“. 

  • The boys just frowning at each other. Mags with his eyes squinty and mouth open, Mahdi looking between the other boys and Jonas snorting a small breathless laugh, heavy brows pulling together and asking “What?”

  • Even coming into the room with a bowl of popcorn, sitting down looking between the varies of frowns and confused looks. What?” and Mahdi asking again “What’s the wifi password?” as Isak comes into the room.

  • Isak, dramatic boy that he is, scrunching his face up and lifting one exasperated hand, “I already told you, gule gardiner!” 

  • Jonas snorting again, this time louder and asking his typical “hva skjer nå? Why gule gardiner? You dont even have curtains?” Isak just rolls his eyes but Even grins excitedly, “It’s an inside joke!” 

  • To which Mahdi chuckles, “When is it not with you guys” which gets overrun from Mags’ “WHat?! Is it a cute story? Haha! I bet it is!” 

  • So, Even, sappy and grossly in love as he is, tells them. After which the boys drag them for a week (well two weeks but their jokes just lose quality after the first week) saying stuff like “In another universe, Mahdi, there’d be waffles in the cafeteria every day” (- “Man, don’t play with me like that”) in the most dramatic way possible. 

  • Isak rolls his eyes so often he’s sure he set a new world record (”In another universe, Issy, your eyes stay stuck like this.” - “Oh my fucking god, shut up!”) and Even is a mix of laughing along or being extra clingy to Isak’s side and whining that they’re ruining their thing.

  • “Ja! Next time don’t tell them stuff!” Which makes Even pout and Magnus say “Oh, come on. We’re just making fun.” and Mahdi nodding “Yeah, we’ll stop, we’ll stop.” and Jonas adding “Just think, in another universe, you never told us.” Which has all of them cracking up even if Isak covers his laugh with an annoyed groan. 

(x)

This Moment

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Words: 941

Warnings: NSFW gifs. Masturbating. Fingering. Oral. Sex.

Anon asked “Could you write a fluffy smut with Tom holland and a plussizey (little bit you know-but not too much) confident reader? (:”

A/N: This was very fun to write I’m not gonna lie. Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Originally posted by parkery

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bts personality analysis: taehyung

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

i found it quite difficult to nail this analysis down - this is the only member i actually had to plan before writing. taehyung has a personality that kind of confuses me because he is everything all at once. he is such a big character that i dont think i could possibly understand him wholly; and understanding is what i do best. i think what makes taehyung so big is his lust for life. he is curious and he doesn’t hold back. he has no qualms when it comes to judgement. taehyung is dynamic. he is so entertaining to watch and thats what makes him so popular. people want a taste of the zest he has, they want that to be as bright as him. but they cant, because taehyung will always be the star of the show and he doesn’t even try. he will always be one step ahead of everyone as they try to catch up but he isn’t a conformist, he is a trendsetter. he does things that arent mainstream and his singularity will bring copycats. thats just the type of person taehyung is. 

i dont think thats the only reason why taehyung is popular amongst idols or why he has so many friends, i think he also has a knack for communication. it is natural to him which makes him seem more charismatic and his energy will ultimately empower those around him. taehyung has so many big ideas because his mind is always whirring and because he has his own language, inadvertently persuades whoever he is with. he has the power to inspire who he is with just with his words. taehyung also brings out the best in people and i think the fact that he is humble is why he is likeable.

taehyungs mind never stops and is always filled with thoughts and dreams and this curious nature brings him to be fascinated by small things. this fascination is why taehyung is so observant and why he seems to just watch over sometimes, eyes glazed over. he is so lost in his own thoughts that he has left his body to live in hise mind. but this endless stream of thoughts could be considered both a strength and a flaw. a strength; taehyung knows himself and his thoughts like the back of his hand, he is interested in things and this curiosity is his drive to try new things. a weakness; taehyung is highly emotional and is very in touch with his own emotions so being in his own head could lead to negative thoughts and create unnecessary insecurities. 

taehyung has a need for independence, he doesn’t like when he has to rely on someone. you see this when he brings up hold me tight, of course, he is proud. but i think he is just reminding others that that is his own work. his. independently. he likes when he has credit and when people acknowledge this. taehyung feels as though rules are restraint and would much prefer to be set free. he likes to be seen as independent, he wants to be seen as someone that can do things for himself. but, unfortunately, taehyung has assigned himself to the kpop industry where independence is a desire that wont be attained. this would stress taehyung out and i can see that taehyung would possibly be sad in his position if it weren’t for his other members.

i think that taehyung really does look up to jin as an older brother and has a great amount of respect for him and ive noticed that he always laughs at jins jokes!!! a+ concept!!! yoongi and taehyung are a fun pair to analyse because they are so different; yoongi values realism and taehyung values optimism. they both see the world in juxtaposing ways and thats why i think that they would be a good pair since i believe that opposites do attract. hoseok and taehyung are strange because as much as i love their interactions, they both seem too intense for each other. both of them have such strong characters that i feel like they can only be around each other for a certain amount of time before it drives either one insane. namjoon and taehyung are cute!!! namjoon has a soft spot for cuteness and i think thats why tae and him are so close. taehyung loves to listen and namjoon loves to talk. good combo. jimin and taehyung are also one of my favourite relationships in bangtan because they seem to understand each other. they have this deep brotherly bond that they have formed over the years and i think its a really important relationship for jimins psyche because taehyung understands jimins personality better than i think anyone else does. its really beautiful to watch them interact and hear their inside jokes. taehyung and jungkook are another one of my favourite relationships because jungkook can keep taehyung on his toes and thats what taehyung needs, he needs someone that can keep up with him and give him a run for his money. he loves the competition and thats what jungkook brings.

kim taehyung - enfp/capricorn. pioneer, zest, curious, character.

kim seokjin ; min yoongi ; jung hoseok ; kim namjoon ; park jimin

Come Back to Me (Part Five)

Fandom: Marvel
Ship: Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: Yes
Genre: Kinda fluff?? More neutral
Warnings: Mentions of small injuries and claustrophobia 
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

Originally posted by vintagejosh

“Hey,” you heard a soft voice say from behind you, and you felt a light touch on your back along with it. You turned your head to see Peter moving to lean against the wall of lockers. His hand slipped from your back, and you instantly missed the touch.

“Hey,” you smiled at him, turning back to your locker to stuff your books inside. “What’s up?”

“How are you doing?” He asked quietly, leaning his head closer to you as he leaned to his side and crossed his arms.

“I’m okay, Pete,” you laughed, shutting your locker and turning to lean against it as well. “They’re still yellow, but they don’t hurt as badly as they did before.”

Since the incident at the convenience store two weeks ago, Peter had been on your back at nearly all hours of the day. When he came over at night, he would be the one taking care of you. He would order you to lay flat on your stomach before always asking if he could lift up your shirt, and when you always responded with a ‘yes’, he would inspect the bruises and cuts. 

You would laughed, trying to hide your pain, as he prodded your back lightly, carefully, asking where it hurt the worst. He would then run to your kitchen, grabbing dish towels and running the sink over them. He’d come back and tell you to stay still as you felt the cold compresses being being pressed to your back. When he would take the compresses off after about an hour of him watching you to make sure you weren’t in any pain, he would take the towels off and then put Neosporin over the small cuts that littered your back.

With Peter as a distraction, you tried not to dwell on what happened that night. If it popped into your mind, you would simply feel a shiver run up your spine at the memory of being trapped under the shelves. But you were fine. You had gotten over it. You were fine.

“But what about the cuts?” Peter frowned at your response, still not liking to hear you were in pain.

“They’re healed, Peter. You looked at them last night and saw exactly that. Now come on,” you pushed off from the lockers and grabbed his arm, dragging him to follow you as you walked down the hallway to the next class you both shared.

“I know, but-”

“No buts! I’m fine. Stop worrying,” you said, interrupting him, still holding onto his arm as he walked next to you. 

“I told you. I always worry about you,” he muttered, looking down at his feet. Your breath hitched as you remember him saying the exact same words to you a few weeks back. A smile graced your face the same it did when he first said it, and you looked over at him to see him biting his lip, still staring at the ground.

God, you loved him, you thought. You stopped walking, dropping his arm from your grip. You took in a heavy breath of air, staring blankly in front of you with wide eyes. 

Oh my god. You loved him. You loved your best friend. 

Not only that. You were in love with him.

You weren’t sure how you didn’t realize it sooner. You knew you liked him, of course, you had known for years. But love. That wasn’t something that had even crossed your mind. And now that it had, it all became clear. You couldn’t have felt the way you did about him for so long to have it not become love.

How were you expected to hide this from him now?

“(Y/N)? Hey, (Y/N)? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Peter hurried to stand in front of you, holding both your shoulders with his hands. “(Y/N)?”

“I, uh,” you stuttered, staring at his worried expression.

The only thing you could think was, You loved him. It bombarded your thoughts, and you couldn’t manage to think of anything else. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him. 

“(Y/N), talk to me. What’s wrong?” Peter brought his hands up to rest lightly on your cheeks. The feeling of his skin against yours broke you out of your thoughts, and you regained focus on his face. You noticed his furrowed eyebrows and worried eyes, but the only think you could completely concentrate on now was the fact that his hands were holding your face, softly and gently as though he was afraid you would shatter into a million pieces under his fingertips.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you managed, still staring into his worried eyes. “Just- a headache, that’s all. I’m okay,” you gave him a smile that you weren’t sure how you forced onto your face. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered, hands dropping from your cheeks and shoving them into his pockets. He stood with an awkward stance, now, his eyes darting from your multiple times in only a few seconds.

“I’m sure,” you said, avoiding his eyes as much as he was avoiding yours. “Come on before we’re late,” you offered a small smile, and he gave you a nervous one in reply. 

“Okay,” he said, moving to your side again. 

You didn’t grab his arm this time. The two of you walked to class in silence, not looking into each other’s eyes, but you still snuck a few glances at him. You thought you noticed him sneak a few glances at you as well, but you ignored it.

You breathed in and out heavily, trying to keep your loud thoughts from creeping back in. It didn’t work.

You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

**************************
I’m not exactly sure if I’m feeling this one, but I’ve got a few more ideas if you guys would want more parts. Please let me know what you think of this part, feedback is always greatly appreciated, and feel free to tell me if you guys want another part! Requests are open :)

~e

Muñeca.

Paring: Bucky Barnes/Hispanic!Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Reader being a HUGE flirt, spanish, talk about books and music in spanish, fingering, sofa sex, Bucky using some words in spanish. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1881.

Rating: 18+.

Masterlist.

Apparently some people in this fandom (read White People) have a problem with authors writing for readers of color, since I am a real Bitch and I’m fresh out of fucks I decided I was gonna write not one, but two POC Reader inserts, this is one of them. The next one is gonna be Black!Reader and Bucky. This is dedicated to that anon @papi-chulo-bucky got last week who was crying about Haunting Me being a POC reader insert and, of course, to all the other bitches who want to complain about POC!Reader inserts being discriminatory towards White People.

Yes, I’m The Queen of Salt.

Tagging; @sexylibrarian1 @thecrownedrose @erisjade @bladebarnes @ryverpenrad @acunningstargazer @palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress @supernatural-girl97 @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

I mention my dad’s favorite book “Love in the Time of Cholera” by Gabriel García Márquez, you should check his books out.

Also, mentioned in the fic this argentinian group (hey! @connieisland) called Soda Stereo here are two songs one and two

And the lyrics are from this song by a Venezuelan rapper called Reis Belico.

Wow. This was long. By the way, Muñeca means doll.


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Little Things

MASTERLIST

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

Word count: 3,365

Pickering, Canada
April 2024

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