i love you comic books for the happiness you bring to my life

5 Reason’s Why Supernatural is the Gayest Show on Television (That’s Still Stuck in the Closet)

To start with, I’m not delusional.  I’m fully aware that the studio and execs have settled into a comfortable pattern with Supernatural, and especially considering it’s heavily mixed demographic (interestingly, it was ranked a favorite among republicans and democrats in 2016) they’re unlikely to rock the ship with a canonically queer relationship between two of it’s main characters.  

However, it’s important to understand exactly how much queerness is bubbling beneath the thick surface layer of “no homo:”  from the orgies of male-on-male eyesex to the inspiration for most of its main characters, Supernatural is queer to its very core. 

Here are five (blaring but stubbornly unacknowledged) reasons why:

1.  Dean’s gratuitously bisexual inspiration. 

Whenever someone claims a queer interpretation of Dean is baseless, I’m always happy to direct them straight to his flamingly bisexual source:  Dean Moriarty, his namesake and direct inspiration, a la the novel On the Road.  

Admittedly, I read On the Road and didn’t particularly enjoy it, as I found it to be a somewhat masturbatory reassertion of masculinity for its narrator, Sal Paradise.  Sal idolizes and fixates the charismatic Dean and his promiscuous lifestyle, openly having sex with and impregnating multiple women, and is all around a heterosexual power figure…right up until the point at which Dean propositions a male prostitute.  

Though he’s never shown doing anything gratuitous with male characters (since the book was published in the 1960s, it wouldn’t have been legal to) it’s clear that Dean is very much bisexual, not ashamed of it, and in terms of personality, very similar to Dean.  There are a few key differences (Dean Moriarty, for example, legitimately gives zero fucks about anything, whereas Dean Winchester is secretly a little ball of anxiety with the weight of the world on his shoulders) but it’s clear where Eric Kripke got his inspiration from.

Moreover, Dean Moriarty was in turn based off of the real life bisexual counterculturist Neal Cassady, who among other things had a twenty-year sexual relationship with a male poet.  Here, he is pictured in a Denver mugshot: 

So next time someone tells you the homoerotic subtext of Supernatural exists only in the imagination of rabid fangirls, remember that Dean is the direct descendant of two ragingly bisexual icons.

2.  Castiel (or at least his wardrobe) was also based off of a bisexual character.

For a show so aggressively devoted to a “no homo” interpretation, it has a real propensity to drawing inspiration from queer characters:  everyone’s favorite baby in a trench coat, for example, was modeled after the demon-busting John Constantine from the Hellblazer comics.  Yup, another bisexual.   

Though in true assbutt fashion, his love of men is censored in movie and TV adaptions, Constantine unabashedly swings both ways in paper form – a.k.a. where Kripke found inspiration for Castiel’s look.  Here, we see him platonically receiving a man-hug from one of his bros:

So I’m not saying the fact that two out of three main characters are modeled after canonically queer figures could have anything to do with Supernatural’s gratuitous queer subtext, but y’know.  It might.

3.  Cas himself is sexually complex (and literally cannot be straight.) 

Dean has made reference to the fact that he “doesn’t swing that way” (ironically, both of which times he was literally in the midst of blatantly flirting with men.)  

Cas, however, has no such reservations:  he’s never indicated, vocally or otherwise, a preference towards either gender, so much as outright declaring that he doesn’t give a damn.  

He reacts to male and female flirtation much the same way:  just try and tell me his suspicious glower and Mick wasn’t similar to Mandy the waitress (and try and tell me they both weren’t acting like they’d like to eat him for dinner.)

Moreover, the only time we’ve seen him ever achieve some kind of intimacy with female characters is when they’re literally throwing themselves at him.  Hey, he’s an aesthetically pleasing fellow – or rather, an aesthetically pleasing something.  

Which brings me to my next point that he isn’t really a fellow at all:  Cas not only gives zero fucks about sexual orientation, he also gives zero fucks about gender.  Sure, he’ll spend seven years in the same ill-fitting trench coat, but he’ll also rock a petticoat like nobody’s business.

I’ve discovered that the writer for “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets,” Steve Yockey, is a gay man, which honestly makes it all the more perfect:  not only does it establish the Orlando-esque flexibility (or nonexistence) of Cas’s gender, but it eliminates the possibility of his straightness.  

And I want Destiel to be canon as much as anybody, but am I opposed to Cas being a genderfluid lesbian?  No.  No, I am not.    

4.  Dean can textually be interpreted as bisexual (and probably should be.)

For anyone who questions whether Dean not being straight as an arrow, I’m happy to point out some very canon things that happened on the show:

(Examples courtesy of @some-people-call-it-tragic!)

And yes, when feeling threatened, he’s professed not to swing that way.  But you know how many queer people I know who have at one point felt compelled to lie about our sexual orientation?  Every single one.  And I live in the bluest of blue states – Dean was raised in Bible Belt America and spends most of his time in the Southwest.  Not to mention the fact that he was raised during the heat of the AIDS academic.

In other words, he has every logical reason to be wary at the prospect of coming out of the closet, or even acknowledging same sex attraction at all.

Moreover it’s been canonically established that Dean has a habit of lying about himself to protect his image of masculinity:  according to Dean, he doesn’t do shorts, chick flicks, cucumber water, skinny jeans and sunglasses, and Taylor Swift music.  You know how many of those things he loves?  All of them

Finally, not every member of the cast or crew might agree (though I know for a fact that some of them do) but their interpretations do not effect textuality.  And Dean can textually be interpreted as bisexual.  

5.  Dean and Cas make a better couple than any of their love interests.

I’m going to state something I feel is obvious:  Cas and Dean have more buildup, tension, chemistry, emotional connection, and romantic history than literally any of their other interests.  

Take Lisa, for example:  she’s Dean’s longest lasting introduced as female partner, and she’s introduced as the “bendiest weekend of his life.”  

Furthermore, I’d argue that sexual attraction notwithstanding, Dean was never romantically in love with Lisa.  To him, she epitomizes his desire for a mother figure, a home, and his lost childhood, as is best demonstrated in his fantasy from “Dream a Little Dream of Me:”  Lisa isn’t a seductive or romantic figure here – she’s a maternal one. 

Though since Dean has never had a long lasting relationship (or, to my belief, been completely in love with a girl) it’s easy to see how he’d misinterpret these feelings as romantic love. 

Then we have Cas, who’s introduced by pulling Dean from the depths of hell, who makes most one-on-one scenes with Dean look like a soft core porno, and who recently (canonically!) declared his love for Dean.  

I don’t dislike Lisa, but it’s easy to see which of the two relationships is more three-dimensional, more original, and more worthy of screentime.

Internal Conflict:  Five Conflicting Traits of a Likable Hero.

1.  Flaws and Virtues 

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but characters without flaws are boring.  This does not, as many unfortunate souls take it to mean, imply that good, kind, or benevolent characters are boring:  it just means that without any weaknesses for you to poke at, they tend to be bland-faced wish fulfillment on the part of the author, with a tendency to just sit there without contributing much to the plot.

For any character to be successful, they need to have a proportionate amount of flaws and virtues.

Let’s take a look at Stranger Things, for example, which is practically a smorgasbord of flawed, lovable sweethearts.

We have Joyce Byers, who is strung out and unstable, yet tirelessly works to save her son, even when all conventional logic says he’s dead;  We have Officer Hopper, who is drunken and occasionally callous, yet ultimately is responsible for saving the boy’s life;  We have Jonathan, who is introspective and loving, but occasionally a bit of a creeper, and Nancy, who is outwardly shallow but proves herself to be a strong and determined character.  Even Steve, who would conventionally be the popular jerk who gets his comeuppance, isn’t beyond redemption.

And of course, we have my beloved Eleven, who’s possibly the closest thing Stranger Things has to a “quintessential” heroine.  She’s the show’s most powerful character, as well as one of the most courageous.  However, she is also the show’s largest source of conflict, as it was her powers that released the Demogorgon to begin with.  

Would Eleven be a better character if this had never happened?  Would Stranger Things be a better show?  No, because if this had never happened, Stranger Things wouldn’t even be a show.  Or if it was, it would just be about a bunch of cute kids sitting around and playing Dungeons and Dragons in a relatively peaceful town.

A character’s flaws and mistakes are intended to drive the plotline, and if they didn’t have them, there probably wouldn’t even be a plot.

So don’t be a mouth-breather:  give your good, kind characters some difficult qualities, and give your villains a few sympathetic ones.  Your work will thank you for it.

2.  Charisma and Vulnerability

Supernatural has its flaws, but likable leads are not one of them.  Fans will go to the grave defending their favorite character, consuming and producing more character-driven, fan-created content than most other TV shows’ followings put together.

So how do we inspire this kind of devotion with our own characters?  Well, for starters, let’s take a look at one of Supernatural’s most quintessentially well-liked characters:  Dean Winchester.

From the get-go, we see that Dean has charisma:  he’s confident, cocky, attractive, and skilled at what he does.  But these qualities could just as easily make him annoying and obnoxious if they weren’t counterbalanced with an equal dose of emotional vulnerability. 

As the show progresses, we see that Dean cares deeply about the people around him, particularly his younger brother, to the point of sacrificing himself so that he can live.  He goes through long periods of physical and psychological anguish for his benefit (though by all means, don’t feel obligated to send your main character to Hell for forty years), and the aftermath is depicted in painful detail.

Moreover, in spite of his outward bravado, we learn he doesn’t particularly like himself, doesn’t consider himself worthy of happiness or a fulfilling life, and of course, we have the Single Man Tear™.

So yeah, make your characters beautiful, cocky, sex gods.  Give them swagger.  Just, y’know.  Hurt them in equal measure.  Torture them.  Give them insecurities.  Make them cry.  

Just whatever you do, let them be openly bisexual.  Subtext is so last season.

3.  Goals For the Future and Regrets From the Past

Let’s take a look at Shadow Moon from American Gods.  (For now, I’ll have to be relegate myself to examples from the book, because I haven’t had the chance to watch the amazing looking TV show.) 

Right off the bat, we learn that Shadow has done three years in prison for a crime he may or may not have actually committed.  (We learn later that he actually did commit the crime, but that it was only in response to being wronged by the true perpetrators.)  

He’s still suffering the consequences of his actions when we meet him, and arguably, for the most of the book:  because he’s in prison, his wife has an affair (I still maintain that Laura could have resisted the temptation to be adulterous if she felt like it, but that’s not the issue here) and is killed while mid-coital with his best friend.

Shadow is haunted by this for the rest of the book, to the point at which it bothers him more than the supernatural happenings surrounding him.  

Even before that, the more we learn about Shadow’s past, the more we learn about the challenges he faced:  he was bullied as a child, considered to be “just a big, dumb guy” as an adult, and is still wrongfully pursued for crimes he was only circumstantially involved in.

But these difficulties make the reader empathize with Shadow, and care about what happens to him.  We root for Shadow as he tags along with the mysterious and alternatively peckish and charismatic Wednesday, and as he continuously pursues a means to permanently bring Laura back to life.

He has past traumas, present challenges, and at least one goal that propels him towards the future.  It also helps that he’s three-dimensional, well-written, and as of now, portrayed by an incredibly attractive actor.

Of course (SPOILER ALERT), Shadow never does succeed in fully resurrecting Laura, ultimately allowing her to rest instead, but that doesn’t make the resolution any less satisfying.  

Which leads to my next example…       

4.  Failure and Success 

You remember in Zootopia, when Judy Hopps decides she wants to be cop and her family and town immediately and unanimously endorse her efforts?  Or hey, do you remember Harry Potter’s idyllic childhood with his kindhearted, adoptive family?  Oh!  Or in the X-Files, when Agent Mulder presents overwhelming evidence of extraterrestrial life in the first episode and is immediately given a promotion?  No?

Yeah, me neither.  And there’s a reason for this:  ff your hero gets what they want the entire time, it will be a boring, two-dimensional fantasy that no one will want to read.  

A good story is not about the character getting what they want.  A good story is about the character’s efforts and their journey.  The destination they reach could be something far removed from what they originally thought they wanted, and could be no less (if not more so) satisfying because of it.

Let’s look at Toy Story 3, for example:  throughout the entire movie, Woody’s goal is to get his friends back to their longtime owner, Andy, so that they can accompany him to college.  He fails miserably.  None of his friends believe that Andy was trying to put them in the attic, insisting that his intent was to throw them away.  He is briefly separated from them as he is usurped by a cute little girl and his friends are left at a tyrannical daycare center, but with time and effort, they’re reunited, Woody is proven right, and things seem to be back on track.

Do his efforts pay off?  Yes – just not in the way he expected them to.  At the end of the movie, a college-bound Andy gives the toys away to a new owner who will play with them more than he will, and they say goodbye.  Is the payoff bittersweet?  Undoubtedly.  It made me cry like a little bitch in front of my young siblings.  But it’s also undoubtedly satisfying.      

So let your characters struggle.  Let them fail.  And let them not always get what they want, so long as they get what they need.  

5.  Loving and Being Loved by Others

Take a look back at this list, and all the characters on it:  a gaggle of small town kids and flawed adults, demon-busting underwear models, an ex-con and his dead wife, and a bunch of sentient toys.  What do they have in common?  Aside from the fact that they’re all well-loved heroes of their own stories, not much.

But one common element they all share is they all have people they care about, and in turn, have people who care about them.  

This allows readers and viewers to empathize with them possibly more than any of the other qualities I’ve listed thus far, as none of it means anything without the simple demonstration of human connection.

Let’s take a look at everyone’s favorite caped crusader, for example:  Batman in the cartoons and the comics is an easy to love character, whereas in the most recent movies (excluding the splendid Lego Batman Movie), not so much. 

Why is this?  In all adaptions, he’s the same mentally unstable, traumatized genius in a bat suit.  In all adaptions, he demonstrates all the qualities I listed before this:  he has flaws and virtues, charisma and vulnerability, regrets from the past and goals for the future, and usually proportionate amounts of failure and success.  

What makes the animated and comic book version so much more attractive than his big screen counterpart is the fact that he does one thing right that all live action adaptions is that he has connections and emotional dependencies on other people.  

He’s unabashed in caring for Alfred, Batgirl, and all the Robins, and yes, he extends compassion and sympathy to the villains as well, helping Harley Quinn to ultimately escape a toxic and abusive relationship, consoling Baby Doll, and staying with a child psychic with godlike powers until she died.

Cartoon Batman is not afraid to care about others.  He has a support network of people who care about him, and that’s his greatest strength.  The DC CU’s ever darker, grittier, and more isolated borderline sociopath is failing because he lacks these things.  

 And it’s also one of the reasons that the Lego Batman Movie remains so awesome.

God willing, I will be publishing fresh writing tips every week, so be sure to follow my blog and stay tuned for future advice and observations! 

important facts & quotes from hidden oracle reread #4 part one

i cited everything from the hardback edition bc im a nerd 

- page one apollo is already making pop culture references (1)

- meg is such a badass oh my g od (14)

- riodan does such a beautiful way of explaining things in this novels. awe-inspiring. mind blowing. example: “Her eyes glinted darkly like a crow’s. (I can make that comparison because I invented crows.)” (14-15) wow. beautiful. 

- so i understand this series is going to be about Apollo’s redemption and ~~~~finding himself~~~~ or w\e but JESUS PLEASE RICK you can’t just say “She [Meg] reminded me of the strays my sister was always adopting: dogs, panthers, homeless maidens, small dragons.” (15) WITHOUT PROVIDING SEVERAL BOOKS AS EXAMPLE FOR SAID SENTENCE all i want is a book focused on artemis and her army of small dragons and lesbians dear gods please 

- omfg can you just imagine sally having to go over to Percy’s room and having to tell him that the greek god of the sun apollo was there to see him omfg. imagine the salt. imagine both of them just groaning. imagine.

-”If I had still been an immortal, I might have flirted with her [Sally Jackson] myself.” (30-31) l o l Sally is a middle aged married woman seven months pregnant and still bringing in the gods you go girl im proud of you

- Sally Jackson is one of the best characters in the entire series. citation: every riodan book ever even the non-pjo it’s a fact 

- i 10000% support the idea that percy gave apollo the led zeppelin shirt as a sneaky joke he’s so smart i love him so much

- “Percy laced his fingers. They were long and nimble.”(35) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- He [Percy] would have made an excellent musician.” (35) f u ck 

- literally all percy wants is to “stay alive” long enough to go to college, meet his baby sister, and see his mom get her book published my heart is broken for this boy (35-36)

- the return of the seven layer dip fuck me up (40)

- jfc that poor Prius it’s been through so much (52-54)

- page 67 and Percy’s already made two comic book references he’s such a canon nerd 

- “Cops love me almost as much as teachers do.” god Percy Jackson what are you doing to me

- apollo tried to order a pizza to CHB and honestly same (73)

- g o d will solace jfc wow

- we’re to assume Will’s a skier (his Okemo Mountain jacket & skiers tan) (82) and now i have to write the inevitable fic that comes out of this fact

- Will’s mom was a alt.-country singer from Austin, Texas (83) which wow and honestly makes the fact will is a horrible singer 1000% better

- yellow daises grow year-round in the Apollo cabin, and it smells like fresh linens and dried sage. (83)

- kayla is aiming for the olympics and honestly im so proud already 

- fact: any and all solangelo interaction have me crying into my book 

- “Will put his hand on Nico’s shoulder, ‘Nico, we need to have another talk about your people skills.’” lol this implies that they’ve had this talk before and im dying to hear it

- the Hermes kids are big fans of Rocky Horror Picture Show (95) and now i have to write a seperate list of headcanons for this fact

- speaking of, Apollo used to cosplay as Rocky bc why not. (95-96)

- listen i know im solangelo trash BUT - “Will and Nico sat shoulder to shoulder, bantering good-naturedly. They were so cute together it made me feel desolate.” im destroyed (110)

- “but if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen.” “it’s a mood disorder” “i cant control it” stfu nico u nerd u just want to sit with your boyfriend im dead (110)

- Will nodded serenely. “It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.” death to goody-two-shoes will solace 2k17

- off topic but CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE CHIRON THO. like. this happens and will and nico are just standing there. in front of him. telling him they have to sit together OR NICO WILL JUST HAPPEN TO PUT CRACKS INTO HIS CAMP. just imagine. him staring at them. sighing. deciding not to fight this one. agreeing & watching them giggle away bc they’re so SNEAKY & now they can EAT TOGETHER WOW 

-   lol when Meg was going to town on the hot dogs and “Julia and Alice watched her with a mixture of fascination and horror.” (111)

- “Will and Nico exchanged a look that might have meant, here we go.” (112) okay im sorry im just sO GONE FOR LITTLE MOMENTS LIKE THIS I JUST WANT NICO TO BE HAPPY AND COMFORTABLE IN HIS RELATIONSHIPS OKAY

- apollo refers to the seven as “the A-list” (112) same tho

- Jason, Piper, Coach Hedge, Mellie and baby Chuck are all in LA with Piper’s father like???? (113) THIS IS SOMETHING I NEED TO SEE? What’s the living arrangement? Is Jason living with Piper? OH GOD IS JASON LIVING WITH HEDGE AND MELLIE? DO THEY ALL LIVE IN SOME BIG PLACE PIPER’S DAD RENTED OUT???? do Piper and Jason babysit? do they have family dinners? how’s baby chuck doing??? how are they all adjusting to domestic life?? I NEED TO KNOW THIS IS ALL VERY IMPORTANT TO ME 

- lol nico’s just as pissed as eveRYONE IN THE FANDOM about Leo’s not-death and im living for it (113)

- also nico carries around Leo’s lil ‘IM ALIVE LOL’ letter\hologram\thing? like i get it was completely for the plot but?????? “i look at it whenever i want to get angry” (114) like ok nico u lil bean whatever u say u little emo shit

- apollo’s little ‘lol when u have a headache in olympus hephaestus just cracks open your skull and removes whatever brain god\dess u just birthed up lol it’s so much easier ugh’ (116) w h a t t h e f u c k 

- fact: harley is adorable no citation needed

- also you’re telling me chiron, basically as old as time itself tbh, doesn’t speak portuguese? k (120)

- “i am merely assessing how well paolo’s arms are functioning after surgery” (120) those are some big words william u nervous or something??

- “hmph” - nico di angelo, 2016 (120) 

- this isn’t really important but there’s a satyr named herbert and he’s my new favorite character sorry i dont make the rules (124)

- ok so there’s an unnamed random camper who mutters in Italian (127) and now i’ve got the BIGGEST headcanon that this random girl and Nico (omg maybe a few others????) meet a few times a month just to rant to each other in Italian so none of them get sloppy with the language and u g h im such a bitch for nico di angelo frienships

- “A boy in the crowd gasped, ‘she’s a communist!’” (127) i fucking hate this book omfg

i’ll do more later in order to mentally prepare myself for the dark prophecy but it’s 3 am and im tired  


The Instagram post has been deleted but Xavier commented on it:

xavierwoodsphd Someone sent me your post @funnymanalexthomas I assume so that I could clear up the disgusting assumptions that you have made of me and my group, The New Day. What we are doing with our current position is the furthest thing from racist but I can see that you did not feel the need to figure out the why or the how before making an attempt to inflame your following to get a few extra likes for your ig. My brothers and I have done everything possible in our power to change the perspective of the way that African Americans have been viewed in the past by our industry (professional wrestling). There was a time where being black meant that you were either foreign, you were a dancer, or you were simply the big strong black guy. We used to be classified by the color of our skin and typecast in these roles without being given a clean slate to be what ever it is that we wanted to be….

xavierwoodsphd Which means that the idea of starting with a clean slate is something that we have to face from both ends. For example, as I stated, the industry of professional wrestling viewed us (black people) in a certain manner due to the color of our skin. And then you, a black comedian with a solid following and a voice sees one of our products, types lies about it, says we are “coonin”, and hastags “Blackface” without feeling the need to do any type of research on the why or how this has come into existence. In the entertainment industry we see blacks typecast in a villainous light playing gangsters, thugs, etc. But luckily its getting better. We wanted to do our part to help that change that so we did. We took an idea that was given to us to be overly charismatic positive preachers, essentially another stereotype which would have done nothing to help advance African Americans in our field.

xavierwoodsphd Eventually we spun the idea into something where we could simply be ourselves. My partners Kofi Kingston and Big E both have their college degrees. I myself have two degrees, a masters, and a nerd culture youtube channel that helps to empower kids with similar interest rather than bringing them down for enjoying things that aren’t in the mainstream. We express the idea that knowledge is power and that you can be literally whatever it is that you want to be. The three of us were clowned growing up because of our interest in video games and comic books. Growing up we weren’t ever “black” enough for a lot of people. But when really looking at it they meant that we didn’t fall into the black stereotypes that we as black people hate being classified into. This does nothing but internally tear us down as a race when we are supposed to be building each other up. The accoutrement that we have, unicorn horns and a trombone, have stories and reasons that we come to the ring with them. It has all been a part of our evolution.

xavierwoodsphd This cereal was our idea and we love cartoons so adding them into the mix was something we definitely wanted to do. The way that we look on the box is how we look like in real life. So to say we are “coonin” is extremely disrespectful to us, what we have accomplished and what we are currently trying to do. We broke a record for the longest reigning tag team champions that had been in tact for 20 plus years, we have changed the way that people approach stereotypes about black people in our industry for the better, we are empowering not just black children but all children to understand that you don’t have to fit the mold or be what other people see you as in order to be successful, we have inspired people and helped them get through loss and depression, we participate in anti bullying rallys, we meet amazing kids who are a part of the make-a-wish foundation, we are on the road 300 plus days a year in order to to bring joy and happiness to families across the world.

xavierwoodsphd So if that counts as “coonin” then I must have misunderstood the definition when my parents explained racially derogatory terms to me when I was a child. This post is not meant to degrade or throw shade. It is meant to inform and educate you and the people who follow you that assuming the worst and using racially derogatory language to describe others without knowing anything about them is never the right thing to do. I’m aware that there are people who will not agree with me on this and that is fine but I just urge them to find a more productive way to combat racism than being mad at few guys who are trying to combat it themselves. I wish you nothing but success in your travels and your career. I hope that this has opened your eyes.

Legit- (Dylan O‘Brien)

Originally posted by teenwolfmazerunnerunited

Characters: OC’s, Dylan O’Brien and (Y/N)

Word Count: 1219

Warnings: none

Pairing: idk man I got bored I guess some Dylan x Reader

Summary: an interview with your fellow cast mate Dylan goes totally aloof 

(Y/C/N)- your character name

“Run!” (Y/C/N) yells into the darkness of the hospital. Lights flash, the elevator opens. A shadowed figure starts laughing. Stiles grabs (Y/C/N)’s hand and starts dragging her down the hospital corridors, the running is slow motion. The lights shut off. Silence. 

The hospital scene fades away on the large screen behind me and the audience begin to clap and cheer. Dylan and I grin at each other, already knowing what happens after that scene. 

Keep reading

messy situations [j.j.]

Originally posted by burgerheadjones

Just a lil thing that popped into my head bc of season two. It sucks and its rushed but I might continue it as the season progresses.

(this could have a part two if you’d like)

Pairing: Jughead Jones x reader

Summary: You are forced to come back to Riverdale when you hear that tragedy has struck.

Jughead Jones sat alone in his usual booth at Pop’s. To his right sat a half-consumed milkshake while an uneaten tray of fries rested on the table to his left.

With a heavy sigh, the beanie-clad boy leaned forwards, eyes drooping slightly as they read through the words on his laptop screen. It was almost midnight, but Jughead couldn’t sleep. He had been at Pop’s for hours, typing, deleting, & retyping his current project as he tried to find the perfect words to describe the fact that Riverdale wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

The diner was eerily quiet for a Friday. Apart from Jughead, there were only two other people who sat on the other side of the diner, sharing a booth. As Jughead slouched in his seat, he felt his eyelids droop even lower and he leaned his cheek upon his palm. A few minutes of shut-eye couldn’t hurt, could it?

It had seemed like an eternity since Jughead had slipped into unconsciousness when in reality, it was a mere five minutes. Jughead head shot up when the bell over the entrance to Pop’s rung. The quick motion caused his beanie to slide off his head. He proceeded to run his hand through his dark curls as he yawned.

After carefully placing his beanie back where it belonged, Jughead looked back up, allowing his eyes to scan the premises for the source of the bell’s sound.

His eyebrow quirked when his eyes came to rest upon the figure of a girl leaning against the door as she breathed heavily. She looked tired, as if she had been running for quite a while.

She straightened up and walked confidently towards the register whispering a loud “pssst” when she got there. Almost immediately, Pop’s himself came out grinning widely when he noticed the girl.

Jughead’s eyes widened involuntarily. He hadn’t seen anything remotely resembling a smile on the older man’s face ever since Fred Andrews had been shot.

“Sweetheart!” Pop’s cried. “You’re here! You’re actually here!”

Jughead’s eyebrows furrowed as the girl turned and leaned against the counter. He looked her over, her facial features reminding him of someone he knew.

The mystery girl smiled slightly. “Of course I’m here Pop. I couldn’t just not show up at a time like this. You know how he is.”

Jughead kept watching as Pop’s nodded sympathetically before offering her something to eat. He looked back down at his laptop, his mind working at a hundred miles a minute. He knew that voice. He didn’t know from where, but he knew it.

The girl nodded her head, knowing there was no use fighting. She had stayed in the diner for about half an hour, enjoying a burger, onion rings, and a milkshake before standing up, paying, and leaving.

Before exiting the diner, she had turned around and leaned towards Jughead’s table.

“It’s nice to see you again Jughead,” she had chimed. “Glad to see you still wear the exact same beanie. At least not everything has changed.”

Jughead had stared after the girl as she left, walking down the empty road as she zipped up her jacket.

His attention was brought back by a slight chuckle, and he turned his head to find Pop standing next to him, another milkshake in hand.

“Who was that?” Jughead asked the older man.

His question went unanswered as the older man simply chuckled once more and walked back into the kitchen.

Jughead shivered as he got off his motorcycle, making sure not to slip as he made his way towards the hospital entrance. 

He entered quickly, bringing his hands up to his face and breathing into them before locating his friends and making his way over to them. 

“Where’s Archie?” he asked quietly, making Betty and Veronica lean in.

“He’s with his dad,” Betty replied softly.

“Listen, guys,” Jughead began. “I was in Pop’s and there was this girl and-”

“Woah Jughead,” Veronica cut in, a small smirk on her face. “I’m happy for you but I don’t think this is the time to talk to us about your love life.”

Jughead sighed in exasperation as he rolled his eyes. “No Veronica, that’s not what this is about. Anyways, there was this girl at Pop’s and she knew him.”

“This is a small town Jug,” Betty spoke. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows Pop’s.”

Jughead rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. But I had never seen her before. And trust me, she wouldn’t have been easy to miss.”

Veronica hummed slightly. “And why is that beanie-brain?”

Jughead felt his cheeks flush slightly before answering. “Betty said it herself. This is a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

Veronica shook her head in amusement. “Okay but why is this a big deal?”

“Because she seemed familiar,” Jughead persisted. “She knew me by my name.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t know her?” Betty asked. Jughead shook his head.

Betty opened her mouth to speak, before their attention was caught by something- someone- else.

“Thank you so much for being here,” Cheryl’s voice rang out. “The fire was a terrible tragedy but I know that with my support, mommy will make it through this just fine.” 

She leaned in to embrace the girl she was talking to. 

“Of course Cheryl!” the girl replied. “I hope it all works out for you. I’m really sorry this happened to you guys.”

Jughead nudged Betty almost immediately. “That’s her!”

They continued to watch as Cheryl leaned back before pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek. “Your dad will be fine. I can feel it. Everything will work itself out.”

With another quick hug and a smirk, Cheryl bounded away, her long locks swinging behind her.

Jughead kept nudging Betty, who was simply ignoring him.

“Betty?” he questioned. In response, the blonde-haired girl simply stood up, making her way over to girl Cheryl had just left.

“(Y/N)?” Betty asked hesitantly, causing the girl to spin around. 

“Yeah?” she asked, confused.

“Oh my god,” Betty breathed. “It’s really you.”

Betty stepped forwards and gathered the girl in her arms, holding her close as the girl gasped out a startled “Elizabeth?”.

By the time the two girls had separated, they both had tears in their eyes.

“Who is that?” Veronica asked, leaning into Jughead. She was met with no response. 

Betty dragged (Y/N) over to them, a wide smile across her face. “Veronica, meet (Y/N).”

“Veronica Lodge, pleasure to meet you,” Veronica greeted, extending her hand.

“(Y/N) Andrews,” the girl replied. “The pleasures all mine. I hear you’re my brother’s new girlfriend.”

“You’re Archie’s sister?” Veronica asked, shocked. (Y/N) nodded in response before turning to Jughead.

“Hey Jug,” she whispered softly. 

The beanie-clad boy didn’t reply, instead standing up and storming out of the building.

(Y/N) looked down, not wanting to see Betty’s sympathetic glance.

“Why are you back (Y/N)?” Betty questioned. She hadn’t seen (Y/N) since she had left with her mom years ago.

“Because of dad,” she replied quietly. “Arch called me, in tears, saying that we had to come. I wasn’t just gonna leave him all alone.”

A stretch of silence had spread before she spoke again. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”

Betty grimaced. “No, he doesn’t. Jughead is just bitter because you left so suddenly.”

Veronica glanced at the two girls, frowning at their expressions. “Well I know that I, for one, am bitter. Bitter about the fact that Archie never told me he had a sister. Why would he keep you hidden from us?”

The three girls laughed in response to her comment before settling down on the hospital chairs, awaiting any news to come on Fred Andrews’s condition.

Outside, Jughead Jones mounted his motorcycle. He sped off towards his home, angry. 

He hopped off the motorcycle quickly and made his way inside, groaning in frustration before turning around and punching the wall next to him.

“What’s got you all worked up kid?”

Jughead spun around, finding two Serpents standing around a third person tied up in a chair.

His eyes widened slightly before hardening once more. ‘What’s got you all worked up kid?’

The Serpent’s question rang in his head as he thought back to the hospital.

What’s got you all worked up?’

(Y/N) Andrews was back in town. And things were about to get messy.

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anonymous asked:

you are already dating someone else, and during our love potion unit, you get asked to explain what you smell, and of course you’re gonna be smelling things that describe your partner right? uhm, but then why are you explicitly describing me…?

“See ya, love,” Bucky says, giving Dot a peck on the cheek and a pat on the ass.

“Don’t be giving that love potion to another girl,” Dot warns, elbowing Bucky’s side.

Bucky groans with exaggerated pain, like the mild elbow to the side actually hurt him. It didn’t. Steve knows that because he knows that Bucky can withstand a lot of pain.

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” Bucky says with a grin. “You know you’re it for me,” he adds in a smooth voice, putting a hand on her hip.

Steve rolls his eyes from next to them. Bucky’s his best friend, so being the third wheel is better than being left behind; though, sometimes he wonders about that. “We’re gonna be late,” he says, not because he’s that worried about being late, but he really doesn’t want to stand there as the two of them make out. Again.

“Shit,” Bucky says, disengaging from Dot. “Steve’s right, we gotta go,” he says, dropping Dot and grabbing Steve’s arm. “Thanks for letting me know, bud,” Bucky says with this big, lingering smile that makes Steve forget all about how stupid Bucky acts when he’s dating somebody. It’s like he promised back in second year when he started dating Clara — he’ll always be Steve’s friend first.

Steve smiles back. “Happy to,” he says, a and lets Bucky drag him the rest of the way down the dungeon to Potions class.

They’re there just in time, and Professor Slughorn chuckles at the sight of them. “Barnes, my boy! Glad you made it here on time, I wasn’t so sure, you know, when you spend your time between classes with your lady friend.” Bucky shrugs with a smug smile as Professor Slughorn chuckles to himself. “I understand, you see, I was once a young man like yourself, though it seems hard to believe today. Why don’t you take your seat, then? I think you’ll enjoy today’s lesson, and… Oh, Roger, didn’t see you behind Barnes. You can take your seat, too.”

“It’s Rogers,” Bucky corrects, polite but firm, and Steve can’t help but smile at his friend. “Steve Rogers.”

“Yes, well, that’s fine,” Professor Slughorn says. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“You think he’ll ever learn my name?” Steve asks Bucky as they head to their seats.

“No,” Bucky says, “but you ever considered that may be a good thing? His dinner parties are tedious as hell. You know he sat me by Brock Rumlow last time, of all people? I hate Brock Rumlow, the asshole.”

“I know,” Steve says. “You didn’t shut up about it for about two weeks.”

“It was that bad,” Bucky says, pulling his textbook from his bed.

There’s a lot Steve could be jealous of Bucky about, but Professor Slughorn’s adoration for him isn’t one of them. Slughorn’s kind of a prick, and while Steve would like to be invited to his fancy dinner parties, Bucky will always slip an extra dessert into a napkin to bring back to Gryffindor Tower for Steve. They’ll usually spend the rest of the night huddled in Steve’s bed, gossiping about the people at Slughorn’s party and all the stupid stuff they did during the night.

Honestly, Steve really likes those nights.

“You know what we’re doing today?” Bucky asks, trying to find the page for last night’s homework. Of course, it only takes him a second, because he actually does all of his homework and reading, unlike most everyone in class. Somehow, Bucky is the nerdiest guy he knows, which is unfair given that he’s also the hottest guy he knows, and he somehow manages to make it work.

“Slughorn said it would be a happy surprise last time,” Steve says.

“I’m intrigued,” Bucky says.

“More like aroused,” Steve mutters. Bucky elbows him, and Steve yelps a little. Brock Rumlow glares at them from the other side of the room, and both Steve and Bucky shoot him a big grin, because they’re assholes, then dissolve into giggles.

“Everyone,” Slughorn says at the front of the room. Steve manages to calm himself down, but Bucky keeps giggling like the ass he is. Steve nudges his side, which just makes Bucky giggle more, but since Bucky is the apple of Slughorn’s creepy eye, Slughorn just ignores it. “Today, I’ve got a special surprise for you.” He lifts the lid off of the cauldron at the front of the room with a grin. “Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world.”

There’s a chorus of “oohs” from around the world. Brock says, “Jasper, maybe you’ll finally get a date!” loudly. Jasper swears at Brock under his breath.

“Keep calm, everyone,” Professor Slughorn says with a chuckle. “And no one will actually be giving anyone else any of this. It’s powerful stuff — not to be messed with. Now, can anyone tell me the properties of a properly brewed batch of Amortentia?”

They talk for a little while about the potion and how to brew it. Steve zones out a bit because, honestly, he’s not too great at Potions. He’s only here because Bucky asked him to take the class with him once they got their OWL scores and qualified. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here here.

“That’s right,” Professor Slughorn says. “The potion will smell like whatever it is that attracts a person most. Maybe we should have a demonstration…” He pauses, eyes surveying the room. “Yes, I think Mr. Barnes, one of our resident lovebirds, should be our guinea pig,” he says with a wink.

Someone in the class wolf-whistles. Bucky’s eyes go wide. “I’m alright,” he says.

“Don’t be shy, lad! Come on up and take a whiff.”

“Go on up,” Steve says with a grin. “I always wanted to know what it is that Dot smells like,” he says.

“You suck,” Bucky says as he stands up and heads to the front of the room.

“That’s it,” Professor Slughorn says as Bucky reaches them. “Step forward and take a good long whiff, then tell us what it’s like,” he says.

Bucky nods stiffly, then sticks his head into the pearly fumes of the potion. All at once his posture becomes more  relaxed. “Wow,” he says quietly. “It’s… it’s like the smell of a riverbank, or hot pavement in the summer. It’s black cherry soda and fresh Irish soda bread with raisons. It’s fresh sheets in Gryffindor Tower and…” He trails off, then goes ramrod straight. “That’s it,” he says.

“Very descriptive, Mr. Barnes! And specific. It must be nice to be a young man in love,” he adds, with a chuckle.

“Can I sit?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, my boy!”

Bucky looks up and towards the table, and of course he sees Steve. Steve, who has been staring at Bucky this whole time, practically open-mouthed.

And Bucky runs out of the room.

— —

Because Professor Slughorn is Professor Slughorn, he makes up an excuse for Bucky running out and laughs it off. Brock Rumlow laughs a little less kindly, but Steve barely notices.

All Steve can think of are the smells that Bucky listed:

A riverbank, hot pavement, black cherry soda, Irish soda bread, fresh sheets in Gryffindor Tower.

And Steve thinks of their summers together in Steve’s ma’s apartment, playing on the hot streets and watching the river pass them by before going home to drink black cherry sodas and to eat his ma’s Irish soda bread, an old family recipe. He thinks of all the nights they’ve spent together, sneaking into each other’s beds in Gryffindor Tower and keeping each other awake with comic books or gossip.

Those smells don’t describe Dot at all.

Those smells describe Steve. Those smells describe Steve and Bucky and the life that they’ve lived in each other’s pocket.

— —

Steve finds Bucky after class in his bed in Gryffindor Tower, the curtains drawn. He’s taken off his robes and sits in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, hugging his knees close to his chest. His face is red, and his eyes are bloodshot like he’s been crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says as soon as Steve finds him.

“For what?” Steve asks.

“Making you carry my stuff up here,” Bucky says, surprising Steve.

Steve laughs and dumps Bucky’s bag down on the edge of his bed before climbing in himself. “How’d you know I’d bring it?” Steve asks.

“That’s just who you are,” Bucky says, curling in closer to himself. He’s quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

“For what?” Steve asks, quiet.

“You know why,” Bucky says.

“It’s no something to be sorry about,” Steve says.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when I went up there,” Bucky says. “I thought it’d be generic shit, like the smell of roses or cologne.”

“I thought you did the reading,” Steve says.

Bucky looks up at him and glares. “Professor Slughorn didn’t assign any reading on this potion,” he says, cold.

Steve can’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay!” he says when Bucky keeps glaring at him.

“I’m so embarrassed,” Bucky says.

“It is a kind of shitty way for everyone in class to find out your crush.”

Bucky groans. “Was it so obvious?” he asks.

“That you weren’t talking about Dot, sure, since she’s a Ravenclaw and all.”

“Fuck,” Bucky says. He looks up. “Thanks for being cool about this,” he says, voice cracking. “I just… I didn’t ever expect for you to find out at all, let alone like this.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Can’t say that I expected it, but you’re always surprising me.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “Anyhow, you ran out before I could sniff it. You wanna know what I smelled?” he asks.

“Sure,” Bucky says. “Torture me.”

“Stop being so dramatic. Anyhow, I sniffed it and the only thing I could smell was that terrible body wash your ma sent you the time she went shopping in the Muggle supermarket.”

Bucky looks up. “The Old Spice?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Steve nods. “Yeah, you used the whole bottle even though it was kind of nasty because you didn’t want her to be sad.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says.

“And that’s like… all I smelled for about twelve solid seconds.”

Bucky swallows. “Are you making fun of me?” he asks, practically croaking.

“No,” Steve says. “It was the Old Spice. Once that stench faded, it was some other things: that old jean jacket that you let me wear sometimes, sugar mice, old musty books. Then, it was just you,” he says.

Bucky looks up. “Are you joking?” he asks.

“I’m serious,” Steve says. “I… I never thought you felt the same way. Never. If I did, I would have let you known a lot sooner.”

“I love you,” Bucky says. “I always have.”

Steve grins. “Me too,” he says. “And I have a few ideas on how we can mess up these clean sheets,” he says.

Steve groans. “You’re the worst. Such a nice moment and you ruined it.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, “we have a lifetime of moments ahead of us.”

Bucky grins. “Yeah,” he says. “We do.”

And then he leans in and gives Steve the first and best kiss of his life.

it’s @gaydean‘s freakin’ birthday!!! what! anyway, here’s an unrelated fic about dean winchester having a pretty good birthday. 

There’s an ache along his joints as Dean realises he slept weirdly last night. Beyond that, his gut feels low and heavy, his mind sluggish, and he knows today’s something significant in any other life but a hunter’s.

Oh yeah. It’s his birthday today.

Keep reading


A little over a month ago, I posted a request that was about Damian coming to live with Dick and his s/o and seeing them as his new family and this is the part 2 to that! Thank you so much for sending in this request and I am quite sorry it took such a long time for me to post this! I hope you enjoy reading this!


“What does this mean?” You ask Dick when he opened the letter he had received from Bruce. Dick lets out a sigh before shaking his head. “Dick, come on, tell me – I deserve to know too.”

Dick looks away from the letter to stare at you. He brings you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and you gingerly wrap your arms around Dick’s body – you can feel how tense he is and whatever the letter was about, it was nothing good. You can feel Dick kissing your temple a couple of times before pulling away to look at you.

“It really hurts me to say this,” Dick shakes his head and you can hear the hurt in his voice, “Bruce wants Damian back and he says… if we do not hand Damian over, he will be seeing us in court.” You let out a gasp, your hand flying over to cover your mouth.

Bruce had only recently come back from his long disappearance and despite how you had been over the moon with his reappearance initially, that feeling has long gone the moment you hear those words from Dick. You are afraid of what’s going to happen to your entire family and you also know just how important family is to Dick too. What scares you the most is the fact that Bruce wants to bring this entire thing to court and you know just how many connections he has and that scares you a whole lot.

“But Damian’s happy with us!” You exclaim as quietly as you can, reminding yourself that your baby is still asleep and that Damian could be eavesdropping your conversation at any given time – he does it a lot and you have yet to break that habit of his. “Does Bruce not know that? Why is he doing this to us, Dick?” You grip his shirt tight in your hand and Dick sighs before shaking his head.

“I’m, I think I will go and talk to Bruce.” Dick gives you one last hug before pulling away. “Maybe we can come to compromise and I know if I let Bruce know just how nicely Damian is adapting to life with us, it would be alright.”

You look at him skeptically. You really want to trust Dick’s words – he has rarely ever let you down – but you still have that doubt at the back of your mind.

“Do you trust me?” Dick immediately asks you as he holds your cheek in his palm and you nod your head. He gives you a small smile but that, in itself, is already enough to reassure you that Dick knows what he is doing.

“Of course I trust you, Dick. I trust you with my entire being.” You tell him earnestly and Dick nods his head.

“That’s enough for me, Y/N. I’ll be back soon alright?” He presses his lips against yours a few times. “Just make sure to keep Damian in the house – I really want to talk to Bruce first and if worse comes to worse, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Dick smiles at you and you give him a small smile.

You are somewhat thankful that your son is still asleep at that moment so when Dick left the house to go talk to Bruce, you sought out Damian. He is currently reading through another history book and you smile as you lean against the door frame.

Ever since Damian came to live with you, he has mellowed down – obviously, he still goes on missions and patrols and can be quite bratty every now and then but he definitely has mellowed down. You liked to think that being with your family, Damian has gotten a second chance at being a kid.

“You seem to be enjoying that book.” You softly call out, not wanting to surprise Damian. He looks up from his book and a small smile graces his face.

“How are you, Mother?” Damian closes the book he had been reading and sets it aside before sitting up. You slowly walk over to where he had been laying down and sit down beside him. Damian immediately leans against you – one thing you noticed ever since Damian came to live with Dick and you is that he is very affectionate with you when the two of you are alone – and he wounds an arm around your waist.

You drape your arm over his shoulder, pulling him against you. “I’m fine, Damian. Just worried.” You finally remember to answer his question and Damian pulls away to look at you. You give him a small smile before pushing his head against your shoulder once more. “Nothing to worry about, Damian – I trust Dick and I know things will turn out alright.”

You have faith that Dick knows what he is doing and you also have faith that Bruce will come to understand that Damian is better off living with Dick and you. You would not even try to stop Bruce from coming over and seeing Damian – after all, he is still Damian’s biological father.

“Tt.” Damian shakes his head but proceeds to talk about his entire day – he had managed to build his own kite from scratch and given enough time, his kite will probably be able to deploy miniature bots that can track down enemies once he fixes the system to deploy them. Although you have very little understanding about everything Damian had just said, it really is nice listening to him talk about his day. “I also read the Little Prince to beloved brother.” Damian tells you – this is also one of the things Damian loved to do: reading books to your son. You find it very endearing that he takes some time off every night to read something to your son.

“Thank you, Damian.” You press your lips atop his head and Damian shrugs his shoulders.

“Tt. I should be thanking you, mother.” Damian replies and you chuckle before nodding your head. You’re just going to let Damian have the last word today.

Without You [j.j.]

Originally posted by insxneofrp

sorry guys. idk why I keep writing depressing stuff whoops. hope you like it though!


You couldn’t believe it. You had refused to believe it.

But the proof was right there in front of you. Jughead and Betty, kissing.

Veronica had tried to warn you. Kevin had tried to warn you. Hell, even Archie tried to tell you something was up. But you had refused to listen, constantly repeating how good and amazing and loyal Jughead was.

You rushed home, eager to get rid of the horrid memories that now lingered in every corner of your mind, now a constant reminder of how the boy that you thought was perfect turned out to be nothing more than a liar.

No matter how strong you pretended to be, your friends could tell that Jughead Jones III had taken the heart that you had oh so carefully given to him and shattered it.

You had ended things with him the next day, leaving him shocked and speechless with tears in his eyes.

You were surprised. Even after going behind your back with Betty he had the audacity to act like your words had hurt him.

Veronica had been with you the whole time, saying that she wasn’t in control of your actions but that she would be there to support you every step of the way.

You had felt your heart shatter even more when Jughead found comfort with Betty, immediately going to her after you called things off.

Jughead was a wreck. He knew that you must’ve found out about him and Betty somehow (probably from Kevin or Veronica) and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring him so to be angry with them. He knew he had messed up.

He tried to message you but all his texts simply said ‘read’. He had tried calling you, but all his calls went to voicemail quickly enough for him to figure out you were ignoring them. The few times he had tried to corner you at school, Kevin had always swooped in and manages to escort you to your next class, helping you get away from Jughead.

He had even tried going to your house and climbing up through your window like he always had, only to find out that you had locked it.

He sat on your porch, waiting for you to come home, only receiving gentle smiles and enthusiastic ‘hellos’ from your parents when they got home, making his stomach churn with guilt. You didn’t come home.

Veronica and Kevin were concerned. You hadn’t acted out or cried since you found out about Betty and Jughead even though they knew just how much the beanie-clad boy meant to you.

You just sat alone, reading a book as they gossiped about the latest scandal that had taken place in the halls of Riverdale High.

“So (Y/N/N),” Kevin said, wiggling his eyebrows. “I know for a fact that a certain football captain has had his eye on you for quite some while.”

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help the slight blush that crept up your neck. Reggie Mantle had always been attractive. No one could deny that. But you were still hurting and you didn’t wanna do anything quite so soon.

Your two friends frowned as you turned back to your book, ignoring Kevin’s teasing comment.

A few days later, you sat alone at Pop’s, waiting for your friends. You had finally rejoined the group, choosing to ignore both the churning in your stomach and the longing glances that Jughead would send your way.

You didn’t look up as someone slid in beside you. “Before you ask, yes Kevin. That’s your milkshake.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not Kevin but I’ll take the milkshake.”

You looked up at the voice, locking eyes with Reggie Mantle.

“That’s Kevin’s milkshake,” you said dully, trying not to stutter.

Reggie’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glow as he responded. “Then let me make it up to you and buy you another milkshake.”

“Yeah, no offense but I’m pretty sure you now owe Kevin a milkshake, not me,” you replied, shutting your book.

Reggie leaned forwards slightly. “OK listen. Please. I know you just ended things with,” he paused, making sure to not say some insulting name. “Jughead. And I’m sure it hurts. But just give me one chance. Just one. And if you don’t like it, I’ll leave you alone. Scouts honor.”

You mulled his words over in your head, glancing at his boyishly handsome smile every few seconds.



You flinched as Kevin squealed, happy about what you had just told him.

He quickly scooted over, making space for the rest of the gang, who had just shown up.

“What’s he so happy about?” Betty asked you, smiling as she sat down.

“Our little (Y/N) here,” Kevin began.

“Kev, don’t,” you warned.

“She has a date with our very own hunky football captain!” He finished excitedly, making everyone at the table chuckle.

At least, almost everyone, except for the raven-haired, brooding boy who slammed his lunch tray down and grabbed your wrist before storming off, dragging you with him.

“Jughead, what the hell?” you yelled as he dragged you into an empty classroom.

Your loud protests were stopped by his lips as they met yours in a slightly desperate kiss. You felt yourself melting into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of it before snapping your eyes open and pushing him off of you.

“Jughead, don’t.”

His head hung low as he stepped back and leaned against a table. “Please don’t go out with him (Y/N/N).”

You could hear the hurt in his voice, and choosing to ignore it, you answered. “It’s a bit late for that. I already agreed.”

“Please,” his voice cracked. “I need you. I love you. Please don’t go out with him.”

“No offense Jughead, but if you really ‘loved me’ you wouldn’t have made out with Betty,” you scoffed, moving towards the door.

“It was a mistake!” he cried, his voice cracking even more. “It meant nothing. What do you want? I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

His voice faded out at the end as he looked up at you shyly, eagerly awaiting you answer.

“Just leave me alone Jughead,” you whispered, heart clenching as his face fell. “Just give me space and time and let me try to figure things out. That’s how you can make it up to me.”

Jughead stood still, in shock, as you walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind you so softly that he wasn’t sure you had really left. He stumbled forwards before choosing to lean against a wall instead, pressing his back against it and sliding down until his butt hit the floor.

He couldn’t stop the tears that came.

He didn’t want to anyways. He had messed up. Badly.

It had cost him the most important person in his life and he wasn’t sure what he’d do without you.

Tag List: @blisshbee, @wisestydia14, @cleohalestilinski, @do-somethinglovely, @divastar777, @localagoraphobic, @gabiwella, @loveinfxnitelyx, @kanye—west, @unicornqueen05, @that1chic-xoxo, @melinadufort, @casismyguardianangel, @rxggie-mxntle, @demigodofthesun, @katshrev, @professionalphangirluniverse, @jugheads-lawyer, @cyberfoxlili, @iwannadiehere, @millygwiazda, @lostinpercyseyes, @theselfishllama, @pegacorn24, @apocalypticangell, @fandomsrlove, @mcheung0314, @fangites, @isabellaskyliner, @nooneshoney, @itsjaynebird, @fandomsandotherstuff, @xbobaaa, @betty-coopers-number-one-stan, @lost-in-wonderland-x, @bubblegumcat229, @yazminmcd, @thesuitelifeofjughead, @bex09, @day-dreaming-nightmare, @eternal-peril-for-all, @mrs-jughead-jones, @onceuponagladerhead, @tasteofswallowedwords, @siaralovesgaming, @eliza-hamilton-helpless

How you’ll make it this year

Self love is moisturizing your body, from head to toe. Self love is walking with a straight posture. Self love is making dinner for yourself. Self love is reading books. Self love is working out. Self love is studying. Self love is resting. Self love is drinking water. Self love is writing in your journal. Self love is doing your hobby. Self love is hugging your own body. Self love is brushing your pet. Self love is smiling at the world. Self love is not letting tough situations bring you down. Self love is accepting your sadness. 

This is what you will base your year on.

1. You have to choose positivity. No one enjoys a course with a boring teacher, walking to school in the rain, failing a class. So what do you do, to survive those “horrible, annoying things”? You accept that it is what is is, you put on a smile, you tell yourself that the class is interesting and that this will be your favorite subject, that the rain is cosy, that you are excited to prove yourself wrong and ACE the course this time. I bet you can look at your life right now and find a million things to be bummed out about, if you choose to proceed with my advice, you also have a billion things to be happy about. Once you truly see this, when people around you are being negative, it wont affect you nor bring you down: instead it will make you encourage the other person and make them see things more brightly. 

2. Relax. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t like you, that she talks about you behind your back, that you see your ex everywhere and you can’t !! deal !! with !! it !! .. Relax, it doesn’t matter. Why? You’re in school for a small period of time, you’ll go through changes, there will be drama, heartbreak. However, when it’s all over, you’ll probably never see these people again, or at least not have a relationship with them. So why bother spending so much time and/or energy thinking about them? The people that litterly spends THEIR time talking bullshit about you? Here’s my piece of advice: Shrug, say “I’m fucking amazing”, do you a 100%, study, laugh alot about your situation, because its comical. You’re in school to get a degree, or to just study: SO STUDY YOUR ASS OFF AND DO YOUR HOBBIES AND FORGET ABOUT HIM HER THEM, THEY DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT YOU AND THEY’RE TOO SHITTY TO EVER HAVE THE PLEASURE TOO. 

3. When you get home, rest. Watch a movie, do a facemask, read a bit, eat something. Take some “you” time and breathe. Then, after awhile, you can start studying. 

4. Always listen in class, have eye contact, nod along. Try to understand what they are saying, ask if you don’t. 

5. Rely on someone sometimes, try out each others interests, talk about the books you’ve read, be positive together, push each other when you feel like giving up, help each other when things are shitty. You can survive all alone, but sometimes it’s nice to just know that you have someone when you don’t feel like doing life alone. 

A/N: All up in my Richonne feels about the possibilities for S8. Please accept this short ficlet.

The inside of the infirmary always felt clean and cool. Rick washed his hands in the sink before checking in on Michonne. It had been the better part of a week since their battle with the Saviors, and to his absolute relief, she had been healing quickly. She wanted to go home earlier, but he did not want her to have to sleep on the floor in her condition. After some searching, he had found another bed for them and today was the day that Michonne would be going home with him.

He and Carl had made sure everything was perfect for her return. The cupboards were stocked with the ready-to-eat meals that she liked the most, which turned out to be the chili mac and cheese. Carl brought all of his comic books to her bedside table. Rick went on a quick run and did not make his way back to Alexandria until he had procured for her some toothpaste.
Now, as he watched her sit up on the infirmary bed and gather up the gifts he had brought her, he could scarcely wait to have her back under their roof. He took up a seat beside her, and took hold of her hand.

“How are you feelin’?” he asked with concern.

“I’m good,” she answered. “Just want to get out of here.”

“I know,” he replied, stroking his thumb over hers. “Won’t be long now. I just gotta go check something with Gabriel, and then I’ll be back to pack up your stuff and take you home.”

“Rick, I can manage…”

“I know you can,” he interjected. “I just wanna walk with you. Okay?”

She smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze before offering, “Okay. Don’t be too long.”

Rick lifted her hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the back of it.
“I won’t be,” he replied.

“Sorry, guys,” said Tara as she entered the room while carrying a pile of sheets and blankets. “I didn’t know anyone was still in here.”

“It’s fine,” Rick said. “Only us.”

“I’ll be out of your hair soon. I’m going home today,” Michonne smiled.

“That’s awesome. Not the getting out of my hair part, because you’re no trouble at all, but the going home today part,” said the younger woman as she placed the bedding off to the side. “I’ll stop rambling now and just leave these here and stop interrupting you both.”

“Really, it’s fine,” said Rick. “I was just on my way out.”

“Me too,” replied Tara.

Rick stood and placed a kiss to Michonne’s forehead; Tara bid Michonne farewell too and followed their fearless leader outside.

“She looks much better,” said Tara, as she and the man who had grown to be like a big brother to her smiled happily.

“Yeah,” he answered. “The rest has been good for her.”

Tara nodded as the two ambled along slowly, a comfortable silence fell over them. Suddenly, Tara spoke up.

“Can I just say something?” she asked, glancing sideways at Rick.

“Sure,” he answered.

“It’s good to see this side of you,” she proffered.

“Which side?” he asked for clarification.

“This side,” she said, gesturing to him with her hand. “Every single day since Michonne was hurt, you’ve been in the infirmary by her side. Giving her water and candy; fluffing up her pillows. Doting on her. It’s nice. It’s nice to have someone special in your life to do all of those things for.”

Rick smiled, aware of the importance behind what Tara was saying; her own pain at the loss of Denise was still fresh. He placed a reassuring hand to her shoulder briefly, but said nothing; he did not have the words.

“She is pretty special to me,” he offered, bringing the focus of the conversation back to Michonne. “She’s so special.”

“So are you,” said Tara. “Apparently, good men are hard to come by. Or so I’ve heard. It’s not like I have any experience on the matter, but you’re what they’d call a keeper.”

He laughed a little at her particularly playful knack for lightening the mood.
“Yeah well, I ain’t special,” he replied, as the pair continued to walk side-by-side. “I’m just in love.”

“Well,” Tara replied, happy for what her friends had found with each other. “Like I said, it’s good to see this side of you.”

Five More Minutes: DWD Drabble

A Darkwing Duck fanfiction for squidsfeather and (sort of) for sonichearts  (you requested a self doubt fic, and I realized while writing this that there was some of that here, but honestly I’ve already got another one going that’s just all self doubt so you’re getting two… Fun times!)


Let’s get into this!

Five More Minutes: In which Darkwing Duck hates clocks, time, and the general boredom and insufferable anxiety that they provide. 

Drake Mallard was not a duck known for his patience. Nor was he known for his exceeding talent at waiting while the clock ticked on without him. His years alone, living in a spacious and barren room on the very top of a hollowed out bridge, had allowed him to use the available space to scream at any pitch he’d wanted whenever frustrations ran high. And he’d done that. 

Quite a lot. 

Keep reading

Saga: You should read this

So yeah. Marvel is fucking up. And DC is white as fuck. If you are a comic book nerd of color, your options are limited. And that is okay.

Because I give you Saga.

Written by Brian K Vaughan(you see his name on top of the cover…he wrote this) of Runaways fame, Saga is about the unlikely existence of a child.

Sound ominous yet? Cool.

I have been supplying @rabbitglitter entire volumes of this series before I decided to actually read it.

And it is so good.

So my brief summary probably is not going to sell you on this book so fuck it. Time to get in-depth.

The very first page of the story. You sold yet? Okay fine, you are going to make me work for it.

Saga begins with the birth of the narrator, Hazel. It follows the “Saga” of her parents, Alana and Marko. Well you are probably thinking, “That is not so bad,” well I have not gotten to the fucked part yet. 

That is Marko and Alana. And yes, that little narration is Hazel. Now you are going to notice that throughout the series, Hazel is becoming increasingly more cynical about her infancy and childhood. Of course, this is her telling a story to someone about her fucked up life. You do not know if her parents are still alive, or if anybody in her life stays around. Hazel’s narration is not exactly unreliable, but it kind makes the narrator’s character more apparent as events occur. I’ll get to that later(probably won’t but I have to keep you invested).

The actual main characters are her parents, Alana and Marko. Now if you haven’t noticed by now, Marko has horns and Alana has wings. This is a big point in the story.

Hazel being the special butterfly that she is, has both.

Marko is an ex-warrior who sworn off violence and is going the technical pacifist route. Alana is the acerbic and snarky character, but she is also resilient and loving mother.

Oh did I mention that they were on the run because Alana decided to free her soon to be boyfriend from the prison that her people were holding him in. Yes, Marko was a prisoner of a galactic war with Alana’s people being his enemy.

Oh, shit, Romeo and Juliet without the murder suicide undertones.

This is the day Hazel was born by the way. So Tupac ain’t got shit on her(if you do not get the joke, just read Tupac’s life). 

Your first day breathing made several people lose their breath. And oh yeah, Hazel has seen some shit so she is wise and also quite nihilistic, and who wouldn’t be?

Okay. General setting here is that Alana’s people who are from a planet called Wreath are warring with Marko’s people, who are from one of Wreath’s moons. Because no one wants to destroy the other plaet because it woud cause the end of the other, they outsourced to other galactic forces. In what could only be described as World War I alliance building, several planets were forced to pick a side between planet and moon. 

“Why didn’t I tell you this before?”

It is not important. The fact that this exposition was thrown away in the first issue of the series right after Hazel’s birth tell you that. The setting is not as much as important as it is to properly expanse just how incredible Hazel’s childhood is. She was born in a Galactic War in which her parents were on conflicting sides. One of the main themes of Saga is that what do politics mean to the people you love and instead of giving you the PC answer bullshit, the title shows…it means a lot. Both Alana and Marko lost family and friends to the other side. They both have vastly different cultures. So different that it started a war.

And they still found love for each other. This story begins after the Happily ever After…except shit ain’t so happy. They are on the run. Their child has been marked for death for being a Hybrid between two bitter enemy races. They are fugitives of the galactic law. Oh and who runs this shit?

Prince IV. Yes, this is how we are introduced to the character that makes Alana’s and Marko’s journey a living hell for most of the series.

Prince IV is a sadistic motherfucker with little empathy for anyone beyond his own impulses and desires. He is a robotic television sociopath who just wantonly commits mass murders for the sake of “fuck it, why not.” This is because Prince IV is a survival of a bloody battle and has PTSD scenes depicted on his TV screen just to show you and anyone else who happens to be looking at his screen when he is thinking, just how fucked up this guy is. Yes, he was having sex and had a war flash back of a ripped off horn.

Oh, and Hazel’s narration drops hints of future happenings sometimes because she is telling a story to somebody. People got on tangents, and Hazel is no exception to that.

You kind of figured that there is a lot happening in the story. Because there is a lot happening in this story.

And that is not the only person after the family.

This is the Will. He is a bounty hunter. And like all people who pursue the profession…

He is badass. But he also has a heart.

And that is his partner, Lying Cat. 

So the Will was hired by Marko’s people to hunt him and his wife down because he betrayed the Narrative. The Will is also contracted to bring Hazel alive.

Oh shit.

Everything I have shown you right now is from the first issue. Saga is a fantastic comic. It is really good. There is a reason Image is on the come-up now and days aside from Walking Dead. Support good comic books like Saga with a fascinating and unique story. You are getting sick of Nazi apologizing Marvel? read Saga. Are you sick of the 30 Batman comic books of DC? Read Saga.

So yeah. Read this shit.

Eliza "The Biggest Clexa Shipper" Taylor

In interviews: 

  • “They taught each other how to be open and how to love.” - Eliza about Clarke and Lexa’s relationship. 
  • “I think it would have been great to see them moving forward with making their relationship more public.” - Eliza about Clexa.
  • We laugh a lot. I think our main thing is doing really, really rough Australian accents to each other. ” - Eliza on working with Alycia.
  • “She [Clarke] has actually decided that Lexa is in this AI, and she is going to hopefully find a way to be in contact with her again.” - ET
  • “She’s become one of my closest friends now, so I’m really happy about that. I’m so happy to have her in my life.” - Eliza about Alycia
  • “I cried, yeah. It was really difficult. There were lots of tears.” - Eliza about her last scenes with Alycia.

At WonderCon:

  • “I love her [Alycia], I just saw her the other day, we’ve been catching up, she’s become one of my closest friends.” - ET 
  • “It’s interesting to see how she [Clarke] is going to move forward, but at the end of the day she’s heartbroken.” - Eliza
  • “She [Clarke] fell madly in love with Lexa so it’s really difficult.” - Eliza about Lexa’s death.
  • “Clarke’s completely devastated, she fell in love, and now that Lexa’s gone she’s a different person, this will forever change her.” - ET
  • “She [Lexa] died in my arms.” - Eliza about Lexa’s death.
  • “There’s only one Lexa.” - Eliza in regards of future relationships for Clarke.
  • “I feel like she [Lexa] was the one for her.” - Eliza about Lexa and Clarke’s relationship.
  • “ I don’t know if she’s going to be able to love anyone the way she loved Lexa” - Eliza about Lexa’s death and future relationships.

On “The Dropship: The 100 Podcast”: 

  • “Me and Alycia both realized that what we were doing was really having an effect on people and powerful and good.” - Eliza on Clarke & Lexa 
  • “We were like, let’s make this beautiful. Let’s make this loving because it’s so rare on the show for something to be like that.” - Eliza
  • “I hope that we did that. We don’t underestimate how much of an effect it had on people.” - Eliza
  • “[Lexa’s] never going to be lost to her. She was her love.” - Eliza
  • “It was almost like, I don’t even know if I want this to be happening but I can’t help it because you’re amazing.” - Eliza on Clarke’s POV
  • “It was fun to actually play a real relationship. That’s how it is, it’s messy.” - Eliza
  • “The scene that follows, Lexa and I… Post-coital I suppose. Having a moment of release and normalcy and peace.” - ET on her favorite scene
  • “It was the only time in that season where I smile.” - Eliza on the post-sex scene
  • “It’s just this weird pocket of happiness. It doesn’t last too long but that was really nice to be still & enjoy someone’s company.” - Eliza

At Oz Comic Con: 

  • “Eliza just fist pumped for Lexa’s return.“ 
  • ’‘Eliza’s fav scene with Alycia was anywhere where they made out.’' 
  • ’'Wellllll apart from making out ;) she’s a babe!” - Eliza about her favorite scene to shoot 
  • “She [Eliza] loves the tender Clexa moments from the finale because she thinks they provided a better end for Lexa.”
  • Alycia is a babe.”
  • “It wasn’t in the original script but I said it.” - Eliza about Clexa’s ily in the season finale
  • I love you was not in the original script but I just had to add it. She was the love of my life” - Eliza
  • “I apologise on behalf of the cast and those who were offended.” - Eliza on Lexas death
  • “It’s really hard to love that thing [the chip]. It’s like ‘God damn it Lexa” - Eliza
  • Eliza just brought a Lexa cosplay on stage
  • “She was the love of my life”
  • “The love scene with Lexa was hilarious cause we’re such good mates” “I’ve got some great selfies of that day” - ET
  • “I’ve got some great selfies of the love scene day. Trying to rip Alycia’s top off” - ET
  • “I don’t think she’ll ever love a human again” - Eliza on S4
  • “In honour of Lexa and respect to fans I don’t think I see a new relationship in s4 to be something. I don’t know” - ET
  • “Uhhhh can ya guess? All that love making.” - ET on what she thinks Clarke and Lexa’s favorite moments were
  • “Alycia couldn’t stop laughing when Clarke drew Lexa, Eliza drew a moustache on the pic and wouldn’t stop showing her”

At Oz Comic Con Day 2:

  • “If she was stranded on a deserted island she’d choose Alycia to take with her.’‘  (via @matchbox_sized)
  • ’'Eliza said the funniest moment was in bed with Lexa.” (via @alyciaftregui)
  • “She [Eliza] was genuinely upset by the loss of Alcyia.” (via @tattoojauregui)
  • “Reading the script was heartbreaking, the director was watching the scene sobbing. It was a really emotional day.” - ET abt Lexa’s death.
  • “It was heartbreaking” - Eliza about her initial reaction when she found out Lexa would die (via @StarryMag)
  • “They’re both babes.” - Eliza about Clexa (via @tattoojauregui)
  • “They were kindred spirits… and they’re both babes.” - ET about what initially drew Clexa towards each other (via @matchbox_sized)
  • “It would’ve been nice to strech out the Lexa relationship, especially that one episode should’ve been 3.” ET abt CL (via @matchbox_sized)
  • Falling in love with Lexa was her favorite part of Clarke’s development.” (via @tattoojauregui)
  • “Falling in love with Lexa. She’ll never be the same again.” - ET about her favorite Clarke development (via @StarryMag) (video)
  • Eliza signed an autograph with “Lexa, I love you” at #OzComicCon (via @wolfpants_) (picture)

DayDream Con Day 1 & 2:

  • “If you could bring back a dead character, who would it be? [implying Finn or Ontari]” “Lexa!” Eliza 
  • “Who would you bring to Brazil?” “Alycia. Not because you want to hear that, but because she’s one of my best friends.” (via @B_Dailey13) (x)
  • “The flame will still play an important role next season, but in a different way. It’s where Lexa is” (via @StarryMag)
  • “I didn’t kill Lexa guys. I would change that if I could. I tried to save her, that nightblood if tricky.” - Eliza at #DDC (via @starrymag)
  • “Which fictional character has influenced you? ’‘I’m not allowed to say Lexa, am I? But she would be.” - Eliza at #DDCon (via @starrymag)
  • “It was in bed with Lexa! We laughed so much.” Eliza about her funniest moment on set (via @starrymag)
  • Eliza has to get Alycia’s permission to post the selfies from them in bed. We will get them if Alycia agrees with it. (via @adcdinah)
  • [VIDEO] Eliza talking about getting Alycia’s permission to post their selfie during #DDCon today (via @lexatriku)
  • “Was the love between Clarke and Lexa weakness?” “No… it’s strength.” Eliza during her #DDCon panel today (via @B_Dailey13)
  • Eliza said she wants to tell Alycia about the Clexa book. She said she’d love it. Nobody asked, she just said it! (via @HumanOrToaster)
  • [VIDEO] Eliza trying to figure out the exact moment Clarke fell in love with Lexa during #DDcon (via @RHIANNONMFlSH)
  • [VIDEO] Eliza talking about her grounder song with Alycia during #DDCon today in Brazil (via @RHIANNONMFlSH)
  • Eliza has just spoke about the “Bitanic” and said she and Alycia loved to play with that (via @DanielaaRivaas)
  • “Yeah I think that was on the cards. That was a slow buil.’” - Eliza on whether or not Clarke would have fallen for Lexa if Finn hadn’t died
  • Eliza feels like she has to go [to ClexaCon] because it’s something for her and Alycia (via @Vii_Lacerda)
  • Alycia was very sad to have cancelled, she really wanted to come to Brazil (via @Vii_Lacerda)
  • Eliza said she really cried after Alycia’s last scene. And then again when she came back for the finale. (via @HumanOrToaster)
  • Eliza said that misses working with Alycia. They’re best friends and she cconsiders Alycia very special (via @Vii_Lacerda)
  • “Clarke and Lexa bonded over the fact that they were both in a leadership position and lonely” - Eliza during M&G (via @anacata90)
  • “It’s such a beautiful relationship [..] We loved doing it” - Eliza on Clexa (via @StarryMag)


I Want To Save You--Spider-Man: Homecoming Imagine

Hi guys! It’s been a really long time since I’ve been active on here, my life is crazy and I haven’t really had the urge to write anything. However, I’m back with this little number and I’m so happy with it. I absolutely adore this movie and Tom Holland and I’ve wanted to write something for this universe for a while and I finally got the inspiration to do so last night. I’ve seen this movie three times already and I love it more and more each time I see. A disclaimer, I have nothing against Zendaya as Michelle, I just didn’t particularly like her character and I’m not sure if it was the way she was portrayed, but I’m hoping they give her more character development in the next one. If you guys have any suggestions, please feel free to leave me a message! (:


Peter, it literally says right here, insert part A into—“

“—okay and I’m telling you, Y/N, that it doesn’t look right—“

Batting the instructions you were waving in front of his face away with a frustrated scowl, Peter snatched the halfway completed section of the Lego Death Star you were building, a piece that you spent almost a half hour carefully piecing together in order to ensure that you were putting it together correctly. However, Peter’s grip wasn’t all that delicate and the section snapped into the thirty tiny pieces it started as, bringing you right back to square one.

“Way to go, Parker,” You huffed, annoyed, picking up the pieces and beginning to reassemble them, again, but not before shooting him a disgruntled look.

Peter at least had the decency to look sheepish, his brown eyes wide and apologetic. You sighed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the corners of your lips from twitching into a small smile, your annoyance with him immediately melting away.

However, you weren’t gonna tell him that

It only took you a few minutes to assemble all thirty pieces, before you handed it back to Peter, who handled it with a bit more care than the last time. You watched as he attempted to place it where he thought it should go, despite the carefully detailed instructions that were now crumpled up and tossed into the corner of his messy room. The tip of his tongue peeked out from the corner of his lips in concentration, his furrowed brows quickly melting back into frustration scowl when when it still wouldn’t fit.

You sighed, “Peter, they gave us instructions for a reason, not for them to be balled up and tossed aside like an old candy bar wrapper. If it belonged there, it would fit and you wouldn’t have to—“

He cut you off with a shout of victory as the small section snapped onto the not even half way finished Death Star with a small click and Peter shot you a smug grin.  

You simply rolled your eyes, “Of course, only Peter Parker could correct a toy company that has been around for decades and has been selling this particular set for years—“

Peter laughed, “Oh c’mon, Y/N, when you’ve been building these things as long as Ned and I have, you learn that the instructions are merely suggestions and should be treated as such.”

“You say that like it’s something to brag about,” You teased, “seriously how many times have you guys built this thing?”

Now it was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes, “Oh please, Y/N, this isn’t just a Lego Death Star,” he said with a level of seriousness that was both sad and adorable, “it’s the Limited Edition Lego Death Star set that comes with Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker and two different sets of Light Sabers—“

His voice had become more animated the more he spoke, his excitement on the subject turning his normal talking speed into more of his familiar rambling quality he got when he was passionate about something. His eyes were almost shining from the amount of enthusiasm and passion he had about this half way built contraption and all of this just from legos.

As usual, you found his level of dorkiness cute and one of the many things you loved about Peter. He was completely and wholeheartedly himself, from his closet filled with varying amounts of t-shirts with math and science puns on them, to his Star Wars posters in his room and in his locker at school and his love for comic books and graphic novels and school and random knowledge that he absorbed like a sponge. He never hid his interests from the outside world and he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t simply to fit in. He was brave and pure and just so inconceivably and inherently good, in a way that you wished you could be.

The blank look on your face must’ve put a damper on his enthusiasm, because he simply sighed, like he couldn’t understand why he was still friends with you.

You gave him an apologetic smile and he rolled his eyes again, “I knew I should’ve asked Michelle to do this with me, she at least understands what I’m talking about.”

It was meant to be teasing, but his words stung in a way that you knew he didn’t mean for them to. While, admittedly, the amount time you knew Peter paled in comparison to that of Michelle and Ned, you still thought that you were closer to Peter than Michelle was. You had nothing against her, at all, you liked Michelle. She was witty with her dry humor and wicked smart and seemed to always know when someone needed something, with that observant way of hers. She saw people, almost to the point of it being uncomfortable if you weren’t used to it and she had a quiet passion about things, from politics to books.

But Michelle kept people at a guarded distance and sometimes, you didn’t like the way she treated Peter and Ned. Some of her jokes you thought came off a bit harsh and unnecessary and while they seemed not to faze Peter or Ned, they did bother you.

Maybe you didn’t understand their relationship and maybe it was because you liked Peter and you knew, deep down, you weren’t good enough for him the way Michelle was. For all of her rough edges and scathing remarks, she was just as smart as Peter, her GPA almost neck and neck with his. She had the same interests and while they had a relationship that you didn’t exactly understand, you could see why they would fit together, opposites attract and all that.

And you? Well, the only reason you got into Mid-Town was because your father wasTony Stark, billionaire, genius, Iron Man and a founding member of the Avengers. You learned from a young age that people only ever cared about your last name and who your father was and while you weren’t by any means stupid, you weren’t the science prodigy your father was. And if it wasn’t for Peter, your B in Chemistry and Physics would be nonexistent. He tutored you almost every day after school in either the library at school or his cramped kitchen table in his equally cramped apartment in Queens.

You’d never asked him to come over to the Tower in your years of friendship, not out of embarrassment or lack of trust in him, but because you were embarrassed by the wealth that oozed from the place. You never wanted Peter to see you as some rich snob who lived off of her father’s seemingly endless fortune and status. You loved your father more than anyone on the planet, but the amount of gifts he showered you with were borderline ridiculous and you never wanted Peter to see that side of your life. Peter’s aunt worked two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table after uncle Ben died. Peter struggled for everything and you wanted for nothing.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “I see.”

Peter’s eyes widened in horror, guilt flooding his dark irises and he groaned in embarrassment, “Oh god, Y/N, I didn’t meant it like that,” he rushed to explain, “I just meant that you’re not interested in this stuff and that’s completely cool, you know and Michelle really isn’t either, but she just gets it, not that makes her better or anything—“

“It’s okay, Peter, I get it,” you said with a strained smile, not meeting his eyes and instead, you gathered your things and made to get up from the hardwood floor, your back giving a twinge of discomfort from sitting for so long, but it was overshadowed by the amount of hurt that was squeezing your heart in a vice like grip.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t go—“ Peter said, hurrying to get up, his hand reaching out to grab your elbow but you pulled away, shrugging your backpack on to your shoulders.

“It’s late, Peter,” you said softly, glancing down at your StarkWatch—the first of it’s kind and not even available on the market yet—and to your utter humiliation, you couldn’t even read the numbers from the tears blurring your vision, “my dad’s probably wondering where I am.”

“It’s only eight and besides, your dad’s in Sokovia for the meeting about the Acco—“ Peter protested, following you out of his room and into the small kitchen.

He stopped short when you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your hand reaching blindly for the door knob, blinking through your tears in order to see him clearly and you gave him small smile, but by the look of complete guilt on his face, it came out as more of a grimace.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” You said, completely disregarding his previous statement, trying for a light tone but it came out flat and before your tears could fall, you opened the door and ran down the hallway.

“Y/N, wait—“

You ignored his voice carrying down the hallway and just ran, not even bothering with the elevator and taking the stairs instead, which, probably wasn’t the greatest idea you’ve ever had, considering your tears were coming in full force now and you could barely see an inch in front of your face let alone to be able to see wether or not your feet were even landing on the stairs.

You made it somehow without tripping and breaking your neck and you burst through the apartment doors and out into the quiet streets of Queens. You ran until you couldn’t see Peter’s apartment building anymore and you slowed your pace to a walk, the chilly December air making you wish you remembered your jacket.

You weren’t sure how long you walked for or even where you were going. you contemplated calling Happy to come get you, but when you looked up, you didn’t even recognize where you were. A inkling of anxiety began to settle into your stomach, but you ignored it, trying to keep calm. Patting your pockets, you tried to find your phone, so you could GPS your way to someplace familiar and more open, but you were coming up empty.

Forcing down the anxiety that was beginning to feel more like panic, you reached around and unzipped your backpack, digging around inside of it, hoping that maybe you had put it in there in your haste to get out of Peter’s apartment. A chill ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold New York air and you felt a prickling sensation make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your fingers brushed against something smooth and familiar, but before you could figure out what it was, you saw a flash out of the corner of your eye and then a hand settled on your shoulder, making you jump, your backpack falling out of your grip.

“Well what do we have here?” A gruff voice whispered menacingly, spinning you around and slamming you up against a nearby alley wall.

You winced when your head bounced off of the frozen brick wall, a small whimper leaving your suddenly dry lips.

It was a man, looking to be in about his late thirties, early forties, wearing a ratty old sweatshirt and jeans with holes in the knees. His dark hair was covered by a black beanie, his pale face red from the cold, his eyes a glacier blue and they were frigid cold as they looked you up and down suggestively. He was tall and well muscled and panic rose in your stomach when his grip on your shoulders tightened.

“What’s baby Stark doing in this part of town?” He asked rhetorically, his breath reeking of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

He ran chilled fingers down your cheek in a twisted caress, “What’s with tears sweetheart?” he cooed and you jerked your head away with a grunt, glaring at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Get off of me.” You said through clenched teeth.

He chuckled, “Oh, you’re a feisty one,” he crooned as you struggled against his hold, his voice sickeningly sweet and bile rose in your throat when his hand traveled down to the hollow your throat, where he squeezed.

“What are you gonna do sweetheart? Scream for your daddy?” He grinned maliciously, “go right a head, he’ll never hear you all the way in Sokovia.”

With a growl, you raised your knee in a move Natasha had taught you in her many training sessions and you knew you connected when your attacker let out a grunt of pain. His grip slackened from around your throat and you used that to your advantage, shoving out of his hold and trying to run, but you didn’t get very far. You had spared a look over your shoulder, to see your attacker clutching between his legs with a face twisted in a mixture of rage and pain.

“You little bitch!” he snapped and you couldn’t help but grin in triumph.

Your victory, however, was cut short when you collided with a solid chest, hands wrapping around your forearms as if to steady you. You gasped, an apology on your lips but when you looked into dark eyes glinting with same amount of malice as the man currently writhing on the ground, that’s when all the previous pride left your body and panic settled like lead into your stomach, your blood running cold.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” the man, shorter than the other one, but equally as built, if not more so, said with a cackle, “we’re just getting started with you.”

A scream built up in your throat and you tried to run around him, but he caught you around the waist and picked you up, kicking and screaming.

He threw you to the ground and on instinct, you threw your hands out to catch your fall. Most of your weight landed on your right hand and you heard a sickening pop and your wrist flared with pain almost immediately and you collapsed against the dirty alley floor with a grunt of pain. Your head swam when it collided, once again, with something hard and frozen and when you tried to sit up, your vision blurred in front of you, the man standing in front you became four and the man behind you, who had recovered from your blow, took advantage of your disillusioned state and grabbed you roughly by the hair, yanking you backwards.

You gripped his wrist with both hands and ignoring the flare of pain in your right hand, you yanked and twisted and with a smirk of satisfaction, you heard his wrist crunch and heard him curse loudly, letting go of you immediately.

Your head felt heavy and you had to blink several times and by the time you’d gathered yourself, the other guy was standing over you and once again grabbing you by the throat, shoving you back onto the ground, settling his weight on top of you, his knees trapping your legs down, pinning you and you were unable to break free.

You wiggled, trying desperately to break out of his hold and his hold lessened enough for you to twist your neck and sink your teeth into the meat of his hand.

He pulled back with a yelp, his eyes blazing with fury. Before you had time to react, his hand came back and pain exploded in a multitude of colors around your left eye, the sting of the slap made worse from the cold and the sound echoed around the empty alley.

A desperate cry broke free of your lips and tears welled, the fear spreading like a viscous poison in your veins and you wished more for anything to be back in Peter’s warm apartment, building the stupid Death Star with Alt J playing in the background, all the hurt and jealousy forgotten as you bantered playfully with your best friend.

“Maybe that’ll teach you to behave,” the man said harshly, panting heavily and you heard the clink of a belt buckle and suddenly time slowed down. You jerked and wiggled and struggled, trying hopelessly to escape his harsh hold.

You screamed out in fear and desperation and you were rewarded with another slap for your efforts.

“Shut her up, dumbass, she’s gonna wake the whole neighborhood.” The other guy demanded harshly.

“I’m trying, but maybe if you’d help me—“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

A blur of red and blue came flying from the building on the right, knocking him into the brick wall harshly, his head making a grotesque crack against the frozen brick.

“Now, is this any way to treat a lady, fellas?” Spider-Man asked lightly, but you could hear the barely concealed anger. He grabbed the guy up by his throat, throwing him into his buddy, who was trying to make a run for it. They spilled over each other like an odd form of bowling pins and you watched as they both stood up and raised their fists up defensively.

“Two against one? Now how is that fair?” Spider-Man goaded as the taller of the two charged and swung, Spider-Man dodging it easily and you watched, with blurry vision as Spider-Man ducked and dived and dodged their weak attempts at fighting.

Your vision swam and the left side of your face throbbed in a dull ache in time with your wrist. You feel yourself slipping, a fog rolled over your senses and suddenly, you felt the fatigue settle into your bones as the adrenalin and the panic left your body.

The red and blue blur webbed the two men up and you heard him murmuring into his phone and a giggle fell from your lips when you realized that Spider-Man carried a cellphone. You wondered if he called it a Spidey-phone, if it had web access—

Spider-Man suddenly appeared in your line of vision, hovering over you and despite the mask, you could feel the panic and concern rolling off of him in waves. His sudden appearance startled you, fear rising once again like bile in your throat.

He moved back, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “Whoa, hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice was soft and warm and filled with so much concern that it made tears spring to your eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered, “you’re gonna be okay, I promise. Those…creeps,” he spat the word like a curse, “will never hurt you again.”

Your vision was getting dark around the edges and you felt tired, the fight leaving your body and leaving you a shivering mess in its wake.

“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely, your throat raw and flaming from all the screaming. You winced, raising a shaky hand to feel it, wondering if it was as swollen as it felt.

A gloved hand stopped you, gently grabbing your hand and wrapping it in his warm grip.

“Best not touch anything until medical comes, okay?” he said nervously, his thumb brushing over the back of your freezing hand.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked, your trepidation making your voice sound small and almost childlike, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your eyelids fluttered, the drowsiness becoming too much to bear.

Spider-Man’s voice was soft when he answered you, “I’ll never leave you, Y/N.”

How do you know my name?

The question was fleeting, but it lingered, even when the exhaustion became too much and the world became quiet.


Bright light danced before your closed eyes and your eyelids felt like they had fifty pound weights strapped to them. You could hear rushing footsteps and someone was yelling, demanding to know what happened. It sounded like your father, but you weren’t sure. The sounds were muffled, like they were coming through a badly tuned radio, like the one in uncle Steve’s room that looked like it came out of the ice with him.

“—left my apartment upset and she left her phone—“

“—why was she upset? What’d you do to her Parker?!”

“—I found her in the alley with those two men they were going to—“

The voice was the same one that said they wouldn’t leave you and you saw the flash of red and blue and the smell of Tom Ford cologne your dad was fond of was overwhelming and your muddled brain pieced together that your dad was talking to Spider-Man.

“—if it wasn’t for you kid, my daughter would be dead or worse and I—thank you.”

“It’s not a problem Mr. Stark, Y/N is very important to me and I would never let anything happen to her.”

For the first time that night, you felt warm.


The second time you woke up, the room was darker and bathed in the light of the moon. You glanced around the room and the first thing that came to your mind was white. White walls, white floors, white curtains, white sheets.

The door to the room was propped open and you could hear the voices from earlier floating in from the hallway, tones hushed and soft, something about a suit and—

A flash of red and blue

“What’d you do to her Parker?!”

You heard footsteps and your father appeared in doorway, dressed in old jeans and a ratty AC/DC T-shirt. His hair was rumpled and he looked tired, the bags underneath his eyes more pronounced than ever and when his gaze landed on you, he smiled.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he teased, the bed shifting when he sat down on the edge, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face, “how do you feel?”

His dark eyes were concerned, worry creeping at the edges and you felt guilt swell in your gut for putting that there.

“Tired,” you said softly, voice still hoarse, “confused, sore,” you added, “but I’m okay.”

Your dad smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You swallowed heavily, flicking your gaze down to the sheets, spotting a loose thread and your nervous fingers began to fiddle with it, “Dad, I—“

You could feel tears welling in your eyes and you choked back a sob. You didn’t even know where to begin, how to even apologize for being so reckless and so stupid.

A calloused hand settled on yours and pulled you gently into a hard chest, wrapping you into strong arms and you felt safe.

“Hey now,” your dad murmured into your hair, “it’s not your fault, kiddo. Peter told me what happened and while I agree that you could’ve handled it differently, you’re here and you’re safe and that’s what matters the most to me right now.” He whispered, brushing a kiss over the top of your head.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cuddling closer to his warm chest. He smelled like coffee and motor oil and a hint of the Tom Ford cologne, his scent comforting and familiar, grounding you and warming the chill that had settled into your veins. You knew something like this would never happen again, that your dad would do everything in his power to put those assholes in prison to never see the light of day again and the thought calmed you.

He placed another kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, smoothing your hair back from your face, cupping your cheek.

“I love you, kid,” he whispered, a serious look settling over his features, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

You gave him a small smile, “I love you, too, dad.”

He ruffled your hair, smiling genuinely for the first time since you woke up. You knew this attack had aged him and added to the growing list of concerns and stress he had going on at the moment and the guilt from earlier rose back up again.

Something flickered in the doorway and you glanced up, seeing a familiar face gazing in anxiously.

Your dad followed your gaze, and a soft chuckle fell from his lips, “It’s cool kid, you can come in and say hi, no need to hover all awkwardly in the doorway, that’s Vision’s job.”

Peter smiled, but his eyes were on you, his gaze filled with so much concern and worry that you felt the guilt rise in you even more.

Your dad flickered his gaze back and forth between the two of you before letting out a slow whistle, “Wow, you could cut the awkward tension in here with a knife.”

You leveled him with a glare and he smirked in return, “I’ll just go talk to Dr. Cho see what she has to say about your progress.”

He kissed your head, before standing and waltzing out of the room, patting Peter on the shoulder as he went.  The door shut softly behind him and silence settled around you, Peter fiddling with the hem of his grey Stark Industries t-shirt, shuffling awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“How do you feel?” He asked softly, glancing up at you through his lashes and you didn’t have the heart to be mad at him anymore. It was stupid to begin with, looking back on it and it almost cost you your life.

You shrugged, wincing when even that hurt, “I’m okay, sore. Tired. Confused.”

He nodded, looking back down at the floor.

You sighed heavily, “Peter, look, I’m sorry for…storming out the way I did. It was childish and stupid and I know you were only joking about Michelle—“

“Do you know why I asked you to build the Lego Death Star with me?” he asked, cutting you off. He raised his gaze to yours and you could see a determination in those chocolate depths and you fell silent, shaking your head to answer his question.

“I asked you, because I like spending time with you,” He said quietly, voice unsure, “don’t get me wrong, I like spending time with Ned and Michelle, I do, but you’re…different,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing, “you don’t ask questions that I don’t have answers to and I know you know that something’s been off with me lately, has been since around the time uncle Ben—“ he cut himself off, voice shaking, “I—I’ve never met anyone like you before. Most people would revel in the fact that their dad is Tony Stark, billionaire and Iron Man, of all people, but you…you hide from it.”

He looked lost in thought, and it was like you weren’t even in the room anymore, “You could be the most popular girl in school and yet you chose to hang out with me and Ned, probably the most unpopular people in the entire school,” the confusion in his voice made your heart throb painfully, wishing more than anything that Peter could see himself the way you did, “I mean, c’mon, we spend our time playing with legos and watching documentaries and building tech out of stuff we get out of a dumpster,” he snorted derisively, shaking his head, “you could be homecoming queen and go to all the cool parties and—“

“Peter,” you said softly, reaching out to grab his hand, squeezing it gently between yours. He looked up at you, seemingly at a loss for words. This was the question that, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know the answer to and you couldn’t help the small laugh that escape your lips if you tried, “none of those things matter to me.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you shook your head, “I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by people who only want to get close to me because of who my father is, to use me for my dad’s money or his status or his ideas. I don’t want a fan club, I want actual friends,” you explained gently, looking down at the soft white sheets that were beyond hospital regulation and tried to ignore the threat of tears pricking behind your eyes, “my dad almost died twice because someone I thought of as family tried to gain control of his tech and his money and that’s the scary part about all of this,” you said, flicking your gaze up to his, “I never know who’s in this for me, not my name and my connections and not my dad’s money, but for me. To see me as my own person and not as the daughter of someone with more money than ten countries put together, with the power to change the world with his ideas and the ability to protect it with his Iron Man suits and what’s left of the Avengers.”

“But you,” you continued, squeezing his warm hand, “you’ve never once seen me as Tony Stark’s daughter. You’ve never questioned why I wanted to study in the library or go to your apartment and never here, at the Tower. You’re not afraid to joke with me or tease me and you’ve never once pretended to be something you’re not in order to impress me or get me to notice you,” you couldn’t help but smile, “you’re so good, Peter. You just, you care so much about everyone and everything and I’ve never met someone, besides my dad, who just wants to be there for people. You’re so smart and kind to everyone and yet you still think that somehow, people deserve better than you, when in reality, some people don’t deserve you.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed bright red and your heart warmed at the sight, “I’m not good like you and the only reason I got into Mid-Town was because of my dad and his ‘anonymous’ donation the science department,” you said with a snort, “if it wasn’t for you tutoring me, I’d be flunking chemistry and physics.”

“I’m not smart like you,” you finished, your voice wavering, “or Michelle.” you added as an afterthought, “you deserve way better than someone like me.”

Peter was silent for a long time and when you braved a look up, he was staring at you, opened mouth, his brown eyes shining in disbelief, “Y/N,” he stammered, “You’re…everything,” he breathed, “You’re so smart and kind and you care so much about the people in your life. You spent years of your life trapped in this tower in order to protect your dad from getting hurt again and you don’t ask anyone for anything. You’re determined to make something of yourself without your dad’s help and you have the power— every reason to not be nice to someone like me, to be friends with someone like me,” he gave a breathy laugh, “I’ll never understand it, but as long as you know that I’ll never take advantage of you or hurt you in a way and I’m so sorry for what I said last night,” his cheeks flushed and he gave you a sheepish smile, “besides, I like Michelle, but I like hanging out with you more.”

You laughed, “Your secret is safe with me, I promise.”

He laughed, but it faded as soon as it came and something like guilt flickered in his eyes and he let go of your hand, standing up from his spot on the bed and you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

“Peter?” You asked softly and you were unable to hide the worry in your tone. You could hear your heart rate pick up on the monitor beside you, but you ignored, focusing on the tense set of Peter’s shoulders as he turned his back to you.

“You need to rest,” he whispered, “I should probably go.”

Fear gripped your heart at the thought of being alone, at the thought of sleeping in this huge room by yourself and you reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“W-Will you stay with me? Please?” You asked, borderline begging him not to leave.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered softly, his voice gentle and warm and something pulled at your memory. He turned around and sat back down on the bed next to you. He gripped your hand tightly, his other hand reach up and brushing the tears that had escaped your eyes off your cheek with gentle gentle fingers, “it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna leave, I’ll never leave you, Y/N.” he said fiercely, his eyes burning with his promise.

His voice was familiar, like you’d heard it before

“Will you stay with me?”

“I’ll never leave you, Y/N.”

How does he know my name?

A flash of red and blue

Your dad’s angry voice

“What’d you do to her, Parker?!”

“It was you.” You whispered, eyes wide as the dawn realization hit you like a slap to the face. And suddenly, everything made sense. His unexplained absences, the bruises, why he was tired all the time, why Spider-Man got to you so quickly, why he seemed to know your dad.

Peter was Spider-Man

Peter was silent, eyes wide with panic and guilt and you could see the million excuses in his eyes, trying to find one that would cover all the coincidence that weren’t just coincidences. He opened his mouth to explain, but no sound came out and it only confirmed every suspicion you had.

“You’re the one that saved me,” You said, disbelief coloring your tone, “you-you’re Spider-Man.

You could see Peter wanted to deny it immediately, make up an excuse, deflect all the attention off of himself, but after a minute of stone cold silence, he finally, slowly, nodded his head.

A million things flashed through your mind, all at once and you weren’t sure what to say, what was appropriate to say at a time like this. You just found out your best friend, who you happened to be very much in love with, was a superhero and just happened to save you from god only knows what last night and well, what do you say at a time like this?

“Look, I know it’s shocking and weird, but please don’t say anything, okay? Ned knows, your dad knows and that’s it, I can’t let anyone else find out. This information could land in the wrong hands can be dangerous and—“

You weren’t sure what possessed you do it, but didn’t know how else you were supposed to say thank you and Peter’s nervous rambling was one of the cutest things about him and his lips were just there and so, you kissed him.

His lips were soft and warm and slightly chapped and frozen underneath yours.

You pulled away with an embarrassed smile, your cheeks flushing, “Peter, I—thank you.” You breathed sincere, squeezing his hand tightly, “thank you for saving me.”

He blushed, a bashful smile dancing on his pink lips, “You don’t need to thank me, Y/N,” he said humbly, “I’ll always be there to protect you.”

He squeezed your hand, a sad smile dancing on his lips, “Don’t feel like you have to, y’know, like me now or anything. I don’t expect you to return my feelings and I hope you don’t feel, like, obligated to—“

You cut him off with another kiss and this time, he returned it. His lips were hesitant and you could feel his inexperience in his movements, but you could only smile, your heart fluttering as he brushed his fingers through your hair, his hand tightening around yours as he shifted closer to you, cupping your cheek gently in his strong hand and you felt the familiar safety wash over you as you were pulled into his arms.

“Peter,” you murmured, running your fingers through his messy hair, “I liked you long before you saved my life, so don’t even start the self-sacrificing bullshit, okay?”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing, eyes bright, but there was a lurking insecurity that made your heart squeeze, “This could be dangerous, you know,” he began softly, “If anyone ever found out about me, they could use you to hurt me and I can’t do that to you—“

You understood the concern, but you couldn’t help the eye roll if you tried, ignoring the soreness in the left side of your face where you were sure you had a black eye, “My dad’s Iron Man and my god-father is War Machine, I almost feel sorry for the person that tries to do anything to me.”

He pouted, “Hey, I think I proved that more than capable of saving you, too,” but his eyes became serious, “I never want anything to happen to you and I’ll do everything I can to protect you from anything that comes your way.”

You smiled and he kissed you again, a quick peck before he untangled himself from you, ignoring your protests, “It’s late, Y/N, and you need to rest, those guys,” his face was grim, “they did a number on you.”

Your heart hammered against your chest at the thought of falling asleep, of closing your eyes and leaving yourself vulnerable to the nightmares you knew were sure to greet you when you did finally close your eyes.

Peter could read your anxiety and he squeezed your hand, “Hey, I’ll be here the entire time, nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise.”

He sat down in the chair next to your bed to prove his point, and when you finally settled down, laying your head on the fluffy white pillow and closed your eyes, his hand still tightly grasped in yours, he brushed a kiss over your forehead.

“I’ll never leave you, Y/N.”


I really hope you guys liked this and a side note, I don’t know much about Star Wars or if such a thing even exists lol. Feel free to let me know what you thought and if you have any prompts or suggestions for me, don’t hesitate to ask me (:

'Spider-Man Homecoming' Star Tom Holland on His On-Set Injury and New Spidey Suit (Q&A)
"We really tried to convey that he's enjoying his superpowers," Holland tells THR about the way his Peter Parker differs from other big screen versions.

How did you pitch your take on Spider-Man to get the job as the director?

Watts: I went in to Marvel for a general meeting, and then they were talking about how they had teamed up with Sony and they had this opportunity to bring in Sony to the Marvel universe. They were leaning towards it being a high school movie, and I had been wanting to make a high school movie. I’d been watching every coming-of-age movie that there is because that’s a great excuse to not start writing, doing “research.” I was really about to speak to the subject about what I liked about coming-of-age movies, and we had this shared language. I was so excited about it that I was overflowing with ideas.

After Captain America: Civil War came out, did you pay attention to what fans were saying about your new take on Spider-Man?

Holland: People kept saying don’t pay attention to the comments, but I found it impossible not to. I think I was lucky that the majority of people were saying really nice things. I was a little nervous about the release, and I was over the moon with the response I got.

How would you describe your Peter Parker to people who’ve seen the previous big screen versions?

Holland: Different to the previous two. I felt very strongly about the question about what would happen if you gave a 15-year-old super powers. I think the answer would be he would have the time of his life. Yes, he would probably stop crime, but have so much fun doing it. We really tried to convey that he’s enjoying his superpowers. More often than not in superhero movies, the powers are a burden to the superhero but in our case, they’re the complete opposite.

Have you talked to Tobey Maguire or Andrew Garfield about playing Peter Parker?

Holland: I haven’t been in contact with them but they said really nice things about me online, which was a lovely thing to hear. I met Andrew at the BAFTAs recently and he was lovely. I’m a huge fan of his, especially the past couple of years, all the work he’s been doing. He wished me good luck. I was really happy to meet him.

What are you most proud of with this film?

Watts: I think it has a unique, surprising tone that’s different from the others, and different from the other movies in this universe. I’m pretty proud of the tone we struck. It’s fun. It’s able to go from a very small story, and really emotional small stakes and just get bigger and bigger until it’s on a massive scale without ever losing site of the story we were trying to tell.

Holland: I’ve never worked harder on anything in my life. It was a non-stop job and I felt so passionate and proud of what we were creating. I’m so proud that I was able to give my best, and I’m so grateful that I didn’t get injured. I did a lot of stunts. At the very end, I fell down some stairs, and tweaked my ACL just a little bit.

Did you need to take a few days off?

Holland: It was right at the end, so I managed to get through it. The funny thing is I think one of my last shots of the movie was me chasing a bus, and I couldn’t do it. My best friend Harrison was my assistant while we were out there so we dressed him up like me and had him run. So Harrison has a little cameo in the movie, which is great.

What was your own high school experience like?

Holland: I went to an English high school which is very different – it’s all boys, suit and tie. But I enrolled for three days in a high school in New York as a research exercise. I had a fake accent, a fake name. It was fun. The Bronx School of Science is a school for genius kids, and I’m definitely not a genius. A lot of the students and teachers were confused as to why I was there so they would test me, and fire off questions at me. It was a little embarrassing, but very informative.

The new Spider-Man suit has a spider-drone that comes out of the center emblem. How did you come up with new gadgets but stay loyal to what comic book fans know and love about Spider-Man?

Watts: There’s a precedent for it in the comic books because Tony Stark builds Peter a new suit. Tony Stark is a very bells and whistles kind of guy. We had that set up in Civil War. That was one of the fun brainstorm meetings: What could be in that suit? We made a list of all the neat things that Tony would put in there for Peter to discover or keep him safe. At one point, we just realized “what if that little spider could crawl out and move around and do surveillance?”

Holland: Our little drone has 10,000 things it could do. I think we found its proper use in the movie. It’s funny – he has a little relationship with the drone, like a little sidekick.

There’s already a release date for Homecoming 2. What’s going on with that. Are you directing?

Watts: I’ve gotta finish this one first – one at a time. There’s still a lot of VFX work to do in post. Talk to me on 7/8/17.

noxumbre  asked:

for the request thing. McCree sitting by Gabriel Reyes' grave telling him stories about how he's trying to live up to the man he was raising him to be. Meanwhile, Reaper is just there debating if he should let him know he's alive or let him live with the lie that inspires him

Honey are you trying to make me cry?  Cause if so, bring it, I love this heartbreak.

I based the conversation Gabriel and Jesse had on this comic cause it’s beautiful and hurts me so good

Warnings: Crying, heartache, please love Mccree, he’s such a good boy

Mccree sat in silence, legs crossed underneath his body as he picked at the grass in front of the headstone facing him. He doesn’t know where to start, he hasn’t been here in years and he has so much to say. His chest hurts, just like it always does when he comes here. He’s tried so hard for so long not to focus on the ‘what if’s or the ‘could have been’s but it always hit him. He couldn’t help himself, he’d lost so much and he knew it was selfish but he wanted it all back. But of course, he couldn’t pick and choose the pieces of his life that he wanted to keep. He couldn’t get rid of his time in Deadlock; because then he wouldn’t have met Gabriel and then he wouldn’t have met Y/N, then he wouldn’t have his family.

He’d start there.

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