i promised you i would have made it so here i am

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

An Aquarius was throwing and making a mess in his own room after he found out that she, his girlfriend, had finally moved on without him. I looked as he cuss and threw away some of the mementos of her, and finally stopped when he found an old photo of them together at a photobooth. He sat down and started to burst into tears. “If only.. If only I told her everything, and hadn’t kept it all in, maybe she would’ve stayed..” he said through the tears.

An Aries looked through his twitter and found a picture of his ex with someone else, he let out a soft chuckle. “Oh shit..” he laughed, and slowly he stood up and continued to laugh. “Look at this. Look at her.. Oh, she’s.. she’s fucking hilarious.” He slowly started to laugh so hard, and I watched as he began to shake and slowly made his way to the balconey and started to scream about her, just screamed her name and called her names and how he hated her but finally he broke down and cried.

A Cancer started shaking and tries to grab his phone out of our reach. “Please, let me just call her..” we shook all our heads and told him to just stay put. He begged that it’ll be just for tonight. We told him that he has had enough, but he wouldn’t listen. He wanted to call her so bad, but the truth is.. she’s about to have her wedding in a week, and he was going to tell her he still loves her after all these years.

A Capricorn and I were out in mid-town late at night, and he had too much to drink. He sways as he walks, and suddenly one of Bryson Tiller’s songs played through one of the bars nearby and he let go of me and sang through the whole verse. He finally stopped and looked at me and said, “This shit, that’s me. I wished God would saved her for me. That’s it, and fuck.. I’m not really at my best at the moment, but I loved her.”

A Gemini breath out smoke after inhaling his cigarette and he looked at the city lights from our view. “I miss her..” was all he said, taking another inhale from his cigarette. He looked at me and gave me a small smile and back at view.

A Leo drank with me, and place an arm around my shoulders and said, “I shouldn’t drink too much. These crazy thoughts are hunting me again, and I just want to crush the world. Ha, oh she’s in my head. My ex, you know? She’s in here again and.. fuck! I hate her. I miss her. You know we’re talking again, right but just as "friends”? I want more than that..“ He gave me a small playful slap on the cheek and walked to get another drink. It’s going to be a long night.

A Libra rushed to her house, knocking at her apartment door. But it was locked. Ran back downstairs and started calling her name out her window, trying to get her attention. She finally opened the window and told him to leave. I watched from the car, as he asked for her forgiveness. She shook her head and said it was too late for him.

A Pisces admitted to me how he still thinks about his ex, and how he still calls out her name and how his mind would play memories of her every single day. He can’t stand the nights because his mind would play her, her voice, her smile, the way she would call him everyday and she was his rock. As he sits here with me, tears roll down his cheek and he said, "Now here I am still holding on to her, just waiting for a sign that maybe she’d come back, and maybe we can try again.. but also maybe she’s with someone else, who.. who treats her well than I could’ve had and.. I want her to be happy, I do, but I wish.. right now.. she could be happy with me, and I am so selfish for it..”

A Sagittarius once said that he used to think too much about the relationship and how every time he was with her he would start to overthink every scenario of how she would leave him, and he would tell her and she would shook her head and promised him she would never leave… and now that she’s gone he still can’t stop thinking about her..

A Scorpio said to me, “I’m just not too sure if I could ever ask her to come back. I really messed up, you know? I could try, but would she ever give me another chance to prove to her my real worth? Can she really do that..?” I was a little loss for words. Knowing Scoprio and how he is, he seemed to be really serious about her. I just didn’t know what to say.

A Taurus and I passed by a coffee shop and he paused and peered through and saw his ex with someone else, and she’s laughing and holding this man’s hand. He gritted his teeth and his fist clenched. I put a hand on his shoulder and told him to let it go. It’s been years since they’ve together and been a two years after their break up. He slowly looked down in defeat and sighed. He walked off ahead of me..

A Virgo and I were driving out late one night around the city, and all the songs he played were just old, sad R&B music and I would watch him from time to time as he mumbled some of the lyrics to himself and would let out a small smirk when the singer goes and says, “I love you and miss you..” and he shook his head. We pulled up to a parking lot, and he got out and looked at me and said, “I do miss her, but do you think she misses me..?”

—  Regrets..
Magic Panel Info

I promised to post the new info I gave out at the panel. Note that it’s all about Unstable. Here it is:

Unstable will have a small Squirrel theme, enough to build a deck around. There is a Squirrel lord but because its effects stack, it isn’t legendary so people can get multiples on the battlefield at the same time.

The set will have full-art basic lands with art done by John Avon. We did something with them that we almost did in Unhinged by chickened out. They look amazing.

The set will have Contraptions. I figured out a flavorful and fun way to do them but it was a bit much for black border. I consider it a home run execution. Steamflogger Boss is on the set. It appears once on the land sheet (It was the only way to get a black-bordered card in the set). Only the basic lands and Steamflogger Boss are Eternal playable. All the creatures in this set that assemble Contraptions are Riggers.

The set has a cohesive creative theme. We brought in artists and did real world building. The world is a mad scientist steam punkish world with five factions:

Order of the Widget (White/Blue) - This is the cyborg faction. They are like Esper but without any self control. They use their inventions to constantly improve themselves. You don’t need a toaster if you replace your hand with a toaster. They take self improvement to an absurd degree.

Agents of S.N.E.A.K. (Blue/Black) - This faction is the spies. They use their inventions for elaborate spy devices. The problem is, they are, for the most part, awful spies, using spy gadgets whenever and wherever they can often when not remotely called for.

Legion of Dastardly Doom (Black/Red) - This faction is the super villains. They use their inventions for death rays, weather control devices and apocalypse machines. They want to rule the world, but are constantly fighting as to who gets to destroy the world first.

Goblin Explosioneers (Red/Green) - This faction is the Goblins, it includes the Steamfloggers. These Goblins love making contraptions and are slightly obsessed with hammers. Their style is slapping thing together to see if cool things can happen. And when things don’t explode, sometimes they do.

Crossbreed Labs (Green/White) - This faction is obsessed with using their inventions to alter biology. They are all made up of hybrids of different animals. Part monkey/part spider/part leopard - sounds good. This faction mixes and matches all sorts of different animals in its quest for self improvement.

The set uses modern design and development techniques. It was designed to be drafted by itself and the release events for the product will be booster drafts. We worked hard to make the set have a lot of playability so you can draft it a bunch of times.

The set will have foil tokens, both for tokens produced by cards in the set and for popular tribes we felt the players would like in foil.

There are tons of other cool things I can’t talk about yet. The set does have a second named mechanic, along with Contraptions. It is something we’ve been trying to solve for years and with the flexibility of silver border, finally found a way to do it.

The set started design in January of 2011 and has its release date slip on several occasions. I am very proud of the work everyone did and think it’s the best Un-set we’ve ever made. I believe fans of Un-sets are going to love it.

This is something I hope all of my followers and the entire studyblr community will read…

Last year was the hardest year of my life and I did not even notice it until I was out of it. To give a little background, I was 19, and becoming a college senior. I completed my bachelor’s degree with a double major, summa cum laude. I worked two jobs, one retail, one as a tour guide, five days a week, and took seven classes in the fall, and eight in the spring, and six in the summer. By March I had lost 16 pounds, was not eating, not sleeping, and drinking four or more cups of coffee a day. I had a boyfriend, friends, a roommate, I was president of a club, vice president of another, and working as vice president of one club’s international leadership program as one of five student board members across sixty-three countries. I studied for my LSAT, took the exam, and applied to law school. And in August, I will be the youngest person in my law school.

I pushed myself harder and further than I ever imagined, and though I sometimes (often) felt like it, I never cracked, gave up, or even collapsed. I did not always take care of myself, physically, mentally, or emotionally though, and I failed myself there, but I was so driven, so determined, that none of that mattered to me at that moment. I do not regret that or any of the choices I have made, but I pressured myself more than anyone ever has, and more than I ever have. I accomplished unbelievable things, but at an insane cost - my health.

Often in this community I receive messages, and see posts, encouraging you to never give up, and to always push yourself to get that A, pass that test, graduate, or to overcome whatever academic or otherwise challenges you are facing. Almost daily I receive messages asking how I do it. “How did you graduate at 20?”, “How do you keep up with all of your commitments?”, and even, “You are so amazing, I could never do it like you do”. But I am here to tell you well, it is not pretty. I went days without eating a meal at times. Days without washing my hair, of wearing the same torn leggings and a hoodie because a grade meant more to me than I meant to myself. I got walking pneumonia at the end of the spring term because I had pushed myself too hard and spent weeks telling myself I could not afford to be sick today, tomorrow, or the next day. I wore myself down so much that I had a doctor literally tell me that now at 20 years old, if I do not tone down the stress and pressure I subject myself to, that I could give myself a stroke. A stroke, 20 years old!

Being a perfectionist, and being so overwhelmingly addicted to my studies, is not glamorous.

I am making this post not to brag about my accomplishments, but because I receive messages daily idolizing me and what I have done. I want everyone to know that this is not easy. Having a dream is hard work, and I have been unfairly hard on myself. Just because you do not see someone’s cracks and scars, does not mean they are not there. I have worked hard, and have earned these things, but I have made sacrifices I would hate to see anyone else make.

In 10 days I move across the country to start law school, and I am terrified that I will allow myself to do this all over again. I am not afraid of the move, or of law school, but of myself and how I talk to myself and treat myself, and the amount of stress and pressure I am willing to apply to myself, without hesitation. In a month I have law school orientation, and have set up a meeting with one of the school’s onsite trauma therapists. I refuse to let myself be my own greatest roadblock. I have to learn to love myself. It is not fair to your body and mind to put grades above yourself. I now full heartedly believe that a grade is not worth your health. I will no longer break my back bending over backwards for an A+. I will no longer let myself go days without food and rest because I want this essay to be perfect, or my presentation to go as planned, second by second. I will allow myself to be happy, well rested, well fed, and healthy. I will love myself, and this is a promise I am making to myself and to all of you, and a promise I hope you all can make to yourselves as well.

I promise.

TLDR; Be dedicated, and determined to get what you want, but do not sacrifice your health, mental, physical, or emotional, for a grade, a diploma, a degree… You are worth so much more than a letter on a piece of paper, and it is okay to sometimes need to hear that. I know I did.

Different Ways to Say “I love you”

Peter and you had been seeing each other for quite some time – longer than he had imagined you staying with him, anyway. Five months of his life had been dedicated to you, romantically. Peter would never tell you, but he had dedicated his life to you since your first day at Midtown High. You had met Ned in one of your classes and he had convinced you to join the decathlon on your first day. Peter had owed him ever since that day.

It was hard for Peter to ask you out – hell, it had taken him a year to even tell you that you were pretty. So, it didn’t come to a surprise to him when he found himself too terrified to tell you how deeply he felt for you. He loved you – he loved the way you were smarter than him (you knew that, but you never made him feel insignificant), he loved that when you wanted to hold his hand you’d walk next to him and let your hands brush first (you’d start tapping his fingers with yours until eventually your hand engulfed his completely), he loved how when you found out he was Spider-Man you weren’t mad that he kept it from you (“I get why you couldn’t tell me – you have to promise me you’re going to come back… you have to come back to me.” “You’re the only reason I’ll always come back… a-and Aunt May, obviously.”). He loved you – he knew he did. He had tried to tell you so many times. But, what he didn’t know was that he had already told you he loved you – in so many different ways.


“You got me this?” Peter nodded at you. “You were in Berlin – fighting alongside the Avenger’s… and you found time to get me something?” Peter couldn’t fight the blush on his face even if he tried.

“I-It’s not a big deal. I saw it in the window. I don’t know, I just – it reminded me of you.” You smiled, leaning in to peck him.

“I love it.”


“Ugh, Pete,” you whined, your eyes welling up with tears. “It’s broken.” You held up the charm bracelet that Peter had given you for your birthday. “I’m so sorry,” a couple of tears had fallen and Peter was quick to reach up and brush them away.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, “it’s just a bracelet, it’s okay.” You shook your head.

“I loved this gift – it’s my favorite bracelet.” Peter’s heart beat a little faster.

Come here,” he whispered, “come on. Let me fix it.” And he was relieved to see the smile on your face as you made your way to him.


“I’m glad you came tonight, Peter.” You nudged him as you walked out of Liz’s house together, side-by-side.

“I am, too.” He smiled softly at you, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets as you both fell into a comfortable silence. It was a cool night in New York and as Peter saw you wrap your arms around yourself he registered you had forgotten to bring a jacket. He automatically pulled his sweater over his head, straightening out his shirt. “Here,” he handed you his sweater. You shook your head.

“Peter, no. It’s fine, I’m fine.” He gave you a pointed look.

Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” You reluctantly took the jacket and pulled it over yourself, feeling his scent overwhelm you and a smile ghosting on your face.

“Thank you, Peter.” You linked your arms together and pushed yourself up to kiss his cheek. Smiling when he turned red and mumbled a small ‘anytime’.


“I’m sorry that I’m ruining our date night, Peter.” Peter shook his head until he remembered you couldn’t see him over the phone.

“You’re not ruining anything, babe,” he said, packing up his backpack with the necessities May told him he’d need. “You need to focus on that sore throat.” There was silence. “Babe?”

“Huh?” He chuckled, walking out of his front door. “I’m sorry, Petey. I dozed off.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you later. Okay?” You mumbled an incoherent response before Peter decided to end the call. He found himself outside of your home fifteen minutes later. He knocked and your mom let him in, letting him quietly use your kitchen to warm up the tea he had brought for you. He then quietly walked to your room, opening your door to see you sleeping. He almost didn’t wake you up, but knew your tea would be cold. “(Y/N)? Babe?” You stirred awake, feeling alert and sitting up when you saw Peter on your bed.

“Peter! What are you doing here? You’re going to get sick!” He shushed your hoarse voice, picking up the cup and handing it to you.

“Here,” you grabbed the cup, looking at its contents, “drink this. You’ll feel better.” You looked at his dough eyes and opened your mouth to say something, until deciding to just keep quiet and drink the tea, a soft smile on your face.


“Oh, my god.” Peter turned around from his seat at his desk, seeing your distraught expression as your eyes grazed over the test you both had received from Calculus.

“What’s wrong?” You bit your lip to stop it from quivering.

“I failed,” you whispered. You had studied with Michelle and Betty for two weeks straight. You had thought you were doing so well – even Michelle had thought so. How could you have failed?

“Hey,” you looked up at Peter, “it’s just one test. You’ll get ‘em next time.” You smiled at the use of his words – it was a phrase you’d use on him whenever he didn’t pass a quiz or test he didn’t study for due to his after-school activities.

“I guess,” you sighed, your smile fading. Peter stood up, walking over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and shuffled through it, picking up a CD case. He sighed, counting to three before turning around to sit next to you on the bed.

“Here,” you took the CD from his hands.

PETER’S HAPPY MIX

You looked up at him, seeing him shrug. “You might like this,” he stated. “It makes me feel better when I feel like crap.” You reached over and hugged him, mumbling about a million thank you’s.


Now here Peter sits, next to you on his couch, watching a movie of your choice. It was one that you had seen at least a hundred times, but he didn’t mind. If you loved it, so did he. And, god, did you love it. He watched your profile, seeing your lips move as you recited the character’s lines – every character’s lines. Your hands were moving in tune with them, too. And as he looked at you he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t plan it coming out like this, but it just happened. He just – “I love you.” Your hands stopped and so did your lips. You turned to look at him quickly.

“What?” Peter nodded slowly, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“I love you.” He repeated. “I love you, and I have for awhile. I don’t know when liking you stopped and loving you started – it all kind of just blends together but – yeah. I love you.” You blinked a few times, registering how your shy and reserved boyfriend, Peter Parker, got the nerve to tell you he loved you before you did. You shook your head at the thought. Peter Parker was braver than you – who knew?

“I love you, Peter.” You finally said, the look on his face telling you your silence was scaring him.

“You do?” He asked, too ecstatic, but he didn’t care. You nodded, setting the bowl of popcorn that was on your lap on top of the coffee table. You sat up and crawled closer to him, leaning over him slightly.

“I love you so much, Peter Parker.” You leaned all the way down, pressing your lips against Peter and feeling Peter wait not even a second before matching your pace.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled against your lips, but not stopping your kiss.

Even though Peter Parker had told you he loved you more than once, he felt a weight lift off of his chest after hearing it come out clear as day from the both of you.

Keep reading

transcript of the speech i gave at Vassar’s black baccalaureate service

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, and the Vassar class of 2017.
Just saying that aloud made me feel old. Class of 2017? Most of y'all were born after dark-skinned Aunt Viv left the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That’s wild.

I want to first thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special moment in your lives. I am honored, privileged, and a bit in disbelief that you asked me of all people to give this address. I try not to have feelings, and I’m going to do my best not to cry today, but no promises.

I’m here to stand in the gap between you and your parents and guardians and any other elders in your lives that you stopped listening to because you thought they were wack and out of touch. I remember being in your shoes not TOO long ago, and it is my fervent prayer that something that I say here today will help you avoid some of the mess I went through.
To be honest I’m a little nervous, but I figured there was no way could this be worse than when Betsy DeVos went down to Bethune-Cookman, so let’s get started.

As you transition to life after Vassar the changes will be both inevitable and swift, so I’d like to begin by giving you some well-intentioned advice and warning you about the continued process of becoming an adult.

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Inexorable (2)

Plot: How does is feel to be arranged to be married to a cocky, arrogant Mafia leader? Once you look at his face, you think you’re lucky, but then he opens his mouth.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, (eventual) smut, Mafia au!

Notes: Welp, since so many of you asked for it, here is a part two!! There are two other stories which need a continuation as well, so I might keep requests closed for a while.. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t mind. Feel free to ask me questions, though! Ya’ll are so nice to me! 2,053 Words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (FINAL)

The ride to the vacation home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Your husband actually gave you the space you needed. There were brief glares exchanged between the two of you, a whole lot of drinking, and forced slumber – it was a 3 hour ride, after all. 

When the both of you had finally reached, the luggage was taken out by the bodyguards who had come along, and brought to your huge master bedroom. It was twice the size of your father’s office – if not, bigger – the bed was king-sized, and adorned with silk sheets. The walk-in wardrobe was already stacked with clothes for both sexes, making you wonder why you had even brought luggage in the first place.

“Too small, honestly,” Jungkook commented, plopping down on the couch by the fireplace. “My room is bigger than this.”

There he was, ruining the moment again. It was a good thing you were too exhausted to fight with him; but that didn’t mask over the fact that you still wanted to knock him out.

“Brat..” 

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You Don’t Understand

Requested with the prompt: ‘when your try to leave but they tug on your shirt because they want you to stay’

{2448 words}

Peter had done it again. He had promised that he wouldn’t be late again. That he wouldn’t flake out on your plans, again. After the first couple of times it had happened you brushed it off, but now it was now the norm that Peter didn’t show up. And a miracle when he did.

After hours of waiting in your apartment for Peter to come through the door you had given up. You pushed all of the study notes and school books away from you as you moved away from the dining table. Glancing at your watch it was now just past half eight, about four hours since Peter was expected to be at your apartment. You could feel the anger boiling up inside of you, ready to explode at any minor thing. And you just begged to yourself that it wouldn’t be Peter to catch the brunt of it. So in an attempt to calm your bubbling emotions you stepped outside onto the fire escape, and allowed the fresh city air to try its best to wash away your emotions. But the longer you sat out on the fire escape the more your mind overanalysed everything Peter had done in the last month that had gotten on your nerves. You didn’t want to be doing this to yourself, but you knew that you were only doing this because Peter was your closest friend. He meant so much to you! And you just couldn’t understand why all of a sudden he didn’t seem to care about you anymore. Had you done something wrong? Had you said something? He would have told you. You would know if you had. It just didn’t make sense. You need the reassurance that everything was okay between the two of you. You couldn’t fathom losing Peter to something that must of been so minuscule for you to look over it.

Before you realised your body was taking you off the fire escape. Your feet guiding you to your room to grab your jacket. You were going to go to Peter’s apartment and see what was going on. In the back of your mind you really hoped that Peter wasn’t home, and that Aunt May would tell you he was still at that damn Stark Internship. You wanted to see what was going on with him but you were scared of what might happen, and what could be said.

You had made it to Peter’s apartment door. The adrenaline was wearing off and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Knocking on the door gently, you waited for either May or Peter to come to the door. It only took a couple of seconds before you were greeted by May’s smile.

“(Y/N)! I wasn’t expecting you! How lovely to see you again!” May smiled, opening her arms in front of her, engulfing you in a warm hug.

“I’m so sorry for just popping in like this. I didn’t even think of calling first.” You realised, following May over to the small dining table.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that! You’re always welcome here sweetheart.” May said reassuringly, “Peter’s just gotten home and is in his room, just go on through (Y/N). I’ve just got to run out and get something for dinner.” She continued, her warm hand placed on your back and nodding towards Peter’s bedroom. You thanked her quickly and headed towards Peter’s door. His door was cracked open slightly, but no sound was coming from the other side. You couldn’t make up your mind if you wanted to open the door slowly or just kick it open. You settled for the first. As the door opened you saw Peter sitting at his desk, his head placed in his hand in exhaustion. Your heart and mind softened slightly at the sight of him. He only moved slightly at the sound of his door closing completely. Turning his head slowly to have his brown eyes look at the source of noise. Shocked by seeing you in his room, he fumbled as he found his feet and stood up from the chair.

“What? What are you - why are you? (Y/N)? I um.. Oh I’m so sorry. I told you I wouldn’t - but I have. I’m so -” Peter rushed, his worlds tumbling over each other as he tried to form a sentence.

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Little Things

MASTERLIST

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

Word count: 3,365

Pickering, Canada
April 2024

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anonymous asked:

ok this is going to sound rude but i totally don't mean it to be, but as an asian i always get super exited when i see asian authors, so i was wondering why you chose to write a european story rather than something korean? loved it tho

Hi nonny:

I get this question a lot, so I’m going to come across as a bit short or annoyed, but it’s not about you, I promise (I don’t know you after all). 

It’s about your question.

It is a rude question, and I don’t appreciate it. Frankly, what I am and how that affects what I write is none of anyone’s business. If you want to know why I wrote Wintersong and not something Asian, I write a little about it here. And it isn’t that I don’t intend to write something Asian-inspired; I do. Why did I choose to write something European? Many things. I like Mozart. I like the German language. I like European folklore. I am pretty goth. I grew up with these things, so I know them pretty intimately. 

But I want to unpack this question a little. Why is it that women of color are expected to write or perform their own marginalizations? Do we go around asking out queer people to only write queer stories? Do we ask disabled people to only write their disability? Incidentally, I wrote my disability into Wintersong. I gave Liesl my bipolar disorder. But the praise and censure I get always stems from the most obvious marginalization I have: my face, and by extension, my ethnic background.

If you want to get into the weeds of why I didn’t write something Korean first, it’s because I’m not Korean. I am of Korean descent, yes. I am a member of the diaspora. But neither am I truly a part of the Korean-American immigrant experience. I grew up pretty privileged: my dad is white, I went to an all-girl’s private school, was part of swim and tennis clubs, etc. I had a lot of the markers of cultural whiteness, which is tied with class. My Koreanness is whitewashed, not just by my cultural privilege, but because I didn’t have access to a Korean extended family. My aunties, uncles, and cousins all live in Seoul, or some didn’t make it out of Pyongyang before the establishment of the 38th Parallel. I’ve been to Korea twice. The only Korean members of my family are my mother and my grandmother. Everyone else is white.

That cultural whiteness? It comes across to a lot of people, and it especially came across to other Koreans. There are reasons I don’t speak the language as well as I should, considering it was my milk tongue. I went to Korean school and attended Korean church for a while, but I was bullied and ostracized so badly I stopped going back when I was 9. I wasn’t bullied because my dad was white; I was bullied because I wasn’t Korean enough. I didn’t share their cultural language. I didn’t even share the same parental pressures. My mother is the one who had been pressuring me to quit my day job and become a full-time writer, not my dad. As a result, I was the outcast in every Asian group I ever tried to be a part of as a kid. Some were open about it to my face. You’re not Korean enough. Some were more insidious about it. They would deliberately choose subjects and topics about which I had no handhold, freezing me out of conversation. My friends? The theatre kids, the artist freaks, the writers. The vast majority of them? White. 

This obviously left pretty deep psychic scars. I can’t eat doughnuts, for one. They smell of Korean school and shame. But it also left me with a deep insecurity about even approaching a Korean subject in writing. Am I enough? Am I enough, am I enough, am I enough? It’s only as an adult that I’ve made Asian friends, that I’ve slowly started to find my way back to the heritage I’ve kept at arm’s length. 

I’m telling you my history, nonny, to better answer your question. But to also maybe shed a light on the effect of asking a marginalized person to perform their marginalization for you. For me, that question is fraught, and I imagine it is for a lot of other Asian writers as well. When I hear that question, all I hear is You are not enough. You are not Asian enough. You didn’t even write something Asian. You are not enough, you are not enough, you are not enough.

Promise*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Summary: Reader, being reckless gets hurt on a mission. Days later, when she gives her final report to her boyfriend Steve, it provokes an argument between them.
Word Count: 3.5k
Genre: general fiction containing explicit sexual content.
Warnings: argument, mild swearing, mentions of death. NSFW/SMUT: makeup sex, praise kink, soft dirty talking, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), slow fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and semi-protected sex. - This fic assumes Reader is on the pill. [Cover your stone before you bone!]
Author’s Note: especially written for @always-an-evans-addict‘s writing challenge. I hope you like this one, sweetie.

   New Avengers Facility

“Steve, you read my report and Wanda told you what happened. That’s it. Can’t we just move on?”

“That’s it? That’s it?!”

Behind the closed door of your boyfriend’s office, you uncomfortably explained yourself, keeping in mind that people around you could probably sense the walls vibrating under the force of your voices.

You’d never thought that blowing out the last Hydra base found in Argentina would provoke such a drama within the team, or between you and the super soldier. Usually, you and Steve argued about the group’s mistake, not yours. When the incident happened in South America, you realized that if Wanda hadn’t been there, you probably wouldn’t be alive today.

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Promises (Part One)

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter Parker is your best friend (and crush), although you don’t know he’s Spider-Man yet. One day, you’re attacked by The Vulture and badly hurt.

Word count: 1,472

Warnings: Some violence and mention of blood.

Tags: @thisisthelilith @idroppedthefries @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes

A/N: I’m still shook about spiderman: homecoming, the avengers: infinity war trailer (that i didn’t even get to see smh), and I recently found out that infinity wars was being filmed in Queens A WEEK before I was planning to visit NYC…so I’ve been working on this request to calm me down lol. I have way too many feelings about Marvel atm. Someone please help me 🙃 (Also, I’m turning this request into multiple parts because I had way too many ideas for it and it was about to be way too long)

(Part Two)


“Hey, you,” You heard from behind your locker door.              

The voice scared you so much that you slammed your locker shut in panic. When you saw who it was, your cheeks turned bright crimson.

“Jesus, Peter. You scared the shit out of me.”

Peter just grinned, amused that he was able to fluster you without even trying.

“Sorry. Why so jumpy today?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I don’t know. I just woke up feeling kind of weird today. It’s no big deal. What are you doing after school today? Ned told me he got the Lego Deathstar set.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and leaned against the locker beside you. Your quick change of subject and flustered rambling couldn’t trick him. He knew something was wrong with you, but he decided to bypass it for now. He didn’t want to make you talk about something you didn’t want to talk about, so he just shook his head and carried on with the conversation as if everything was normal.

“I heard. I wish I could help you guys build it, but I got the Stark internship after school.”

You rolled your eyes and copied his pose, your shoulder falling hard against your locker.

“You always have the Stark internship. Doesn’t he ever let you take a break?”

Peter chuckled again.

“Uh, not really. No. It’s okay though, I like it.”

You were still annoyed, but you didn’t want to crap all over something Peter loved. So you just gave him a little fake smile instead.

“I’m glad you enjoy it. Ned and I will miss you though.”

Peter gave you one of his little appreciative half-smiles.

“I’ll miss you, too. Uh, both of you… I mean,” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Anyways, can I walk you out?”

You nodded and the both of you headed towards the front entrance of Midtown High.

You and Peter had parted ways a while back on your journey home. You felt a little antsy walking alone in Queens, and Peter was reluctant to leave you alone, but you convinced him that you would be fine. You kept checking your phone nervously, waiting for Ned to text you back about the plan for that night. When you looked up, you realized that you didn’t even know where you were walking anymore. You stopped and looked around. There was an ominous feeling in the air – the same creepy feeling you got when you woke up this morning. Something bad was about to happen. You could feel it.

You spun around, and just as you did, you saw a winged creature swooping down to grab you. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was a pair of mechanical talons gripping your shoulders.

When you woke up, your vision was blurry. You tried to sit up, but when you did, your body was wracked with pain. You fell back to the ground and hit your head on the pavement, worsening your anguish. When you reached back to cradle it, you felt something warm and sticky on your hands. You tried to lift your other arm, but couldn’t. You tried and failed to move your legs as well. You didn’t know what happened to you, but you knew that it was bad. You lay still, waiting for the pain to stop when you saw a blurry figure running to you.

“Y/N!” You heard the figure scream, and you knew at once that it was Peter.

But you were out before you could even say his name.

… 

Beep…Beep…Beep.

The first thing you heard before you opened your eyes was the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to you. The next thing was worried voices speaking next to you.

“She’s going to be alright, kid. It’ll take her a while to get there, but she’s going to be alright.”

“You don’t get it, Tony. I let this happen. Me. This whole thing is my fault.”

As soon as you recognized the second voice as Peter’s, you knew you had to open your eyes for him. It took all of the strength in your body, but finally your eyes fluttered open. You tried to say something comforting to him, but nothing came out. Instead, you made a grunting noise and tried to reach out for him.

Peter immediately kneeled down next to you and put an arm on your shoulder.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Wait, no, don’t try to talk. Or move. Just…thank god you’re okay.”

“P…Peter. W-what…happened?” You struggled to ask.

Peter just stared at you with a pained expression.

“It’s…complicated. You got hurt. But you’re going to be okay now.”

You turned your gaze to Tony Stark, who was standing sullenly in the corner of the room.

“Why is he here? Where am I?”

Tony stepped forward and gripped the footboard of your hospital bed.

“You’re in Avengers Tower. In the medical bay.”

“What? Why aren’t I in a real hospital? Where’s my parents…?”

You shifted uncomfortably under your sheets, trying to sit up, but stopped abruptly and groaned when you felt a sharp pain in your ribs. Peter pressed gently on your shoulder to keep you from moving.

“I wouldn’t do that, Y/N.”

“Why am I here? And where are my parents?” You asked again sharply, starting to fully regain your voice.

“Your parents are on their way here. And, uh, you’re here because… well, because…”

“Because Peter reached out to me for help when he found you. We’ve got the best and brightest working here. You’re in very good hands,” Tony interrupted.

“Yeah, exactly. Plus he offered to keep you here for free so your parents won’t have to pay any medical bills. He’s been really helpful with all of this.”

You relaxed back into your pillows, staring at Tony with a questioning look.

“Thank you, Tony,” you mumbled, not buying that that was the whole story.

“No problem. Any friend of Peter’s is a friend of mine. I should go, but Peter here will take excellent care of you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

With that, he patted Peter roughly on the shoulder, gave him a look over the rim of his glasses, and walked out the door.

“What was that about?” You questioned Peter.

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

He put both of his elbows on the edge of your bed, balling his fists together and resting them against his lips. He was thinking very hard about something.

“Peter… don’t think for one second that I’m going to give up asking about what’s going on. I’m not stupid. I know something bad happened, and I need to know what it was,” You croaked.

Peter looked into your eyes, and you could tell he knew you were right. He had to tell you, no matter how hard it was for him. He sighed loudly and got up to pull up a chair beside you.

“Okay. Uh, I don’t really know how to say this…but, uh, you were attacked. By The Vulture. Do you know who that is?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, searching your brain for any prior knowledge you had of who that could be. When you finally remembered seeing him on the news a few times, you nodded slowly.

“Spider-Man fought him a couple of times, right?”

Peter nodded at the floor, not able to look you in the eyes.

“Ned called me and said you never texted him back. He seemed really worried, so I started walking to your house to see if you were there. And then on the way I saw him… and I found you. Just laying there in an alley. I was so scared. I thought that I was too late. I thought I lost you, Y/N.”

He looked so upset that it took everything in your power not to sit up and wrap your arms around him. Instead, you rested your hand on top of his. It was all you could muster. Peter sniffled a little bit and gave you a weak smile.

“I don’t understand, Peter. What would The Vulture want with me?”

Peter looked up at you and shook his head slowly.

“I…don’t know, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

He looked like he was almost in as much pain as you, so you intertwined your fingers with his in an attempt to comfort him further.

“Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault, Peter.”

He smiled again, but he still looked tormented.

“I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you again,” he whispered, tightening his grip on your hand. “I promise.”

You smiled at him sleepily. Feeling your cheeks beginning to burn, you cleared your throat and released his hand.

“So…Avengers Tower, huh? Do you think you could get Black Widow to pay me a visit?”

You Understand, Right?

Characters: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader / Friend!Reader, Bobby, John

Length: 1663+ words

TW: Suicide. Depression. Abandonment. Dean being a jerk. 

A/N: Another word vomit that I did when I couldn’t sleep last week. I just had the idea in my head for the whole night, and I knew if I didn’t write it down, I wouldn’t be able to remember it the next morning. So, here it is! Feedback is encouraged!

SERIES MASTERLIST


The thing about the Winchester family was that they collect family like one would collect dolls. They have a lot of family around the State, any of them willing to do anything for the brothers. They always had a saying. 

Family doesn’t end in blood.

Except it does. They can say it as many times as they want, but there isn’t anything they wouldn’t do for the family. Their blood family. 

You were 4 when you were collected by John, and shipped off to Bobby’s. You were basically raised alongside the brothers from then on. Sam being a year older than you, and his brother, Dean, being 5 years older than you.

You were 5 when Dean ran out of breakfast. Bobby, and John were gone on a hunt, leaving 10 year-old Dean in charge. There was half a single granola bar left, and he looked uneasily between you and Sam, both of you had complained about being hungry. He gave you a strange look, and even though you were 5, you knew what it meant. Afterall, John gave you the same look when he told you why you can’t come home to your parents. It was also the same look that Bobby gave you when you asked about your parents. The look of guilt. You turned away, not being able to handle the fact that his decision had already been made when he was 4, and the responsibility of Sam’s livelihood was thrusted into his hands.

“Not hungry,” you mumbled, despite your roaring stomach. Sam’s eyes lit up with glee as he snatched the snack from his brother’s hand, and you can see Dean’s face visibly relax.

“Sammy’s my responsibility. You understand, right?” Dean asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

You gave him a nod, hopping off the chair, and went back to your bed, hoping you can sleep away the hunger. 

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Wrong Taxi (Part 1)

Summary: You get into an already occupied taxi and what ensues can only be bad luck. (Done for Kait’s 5k AU Writing Challenge).

Word Count: 2,757

Warnings: Drinking. Throwing up. 

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble series, but it is definitely not lol. I hope you all enjoy this first part. It’s gonna be a fun ride :D

Originally posted by dolorioushaze


The heartache was more than you could have ever foreseen. You were blissfully unaware of how much value you had placed on your relationship with your now-ex boyfriend. It was a slap in the face when he broke up with you and you found yourself crying in a bathroom stall at work. Cursing at yourself, you wiped your eyes with the coarse toilet paper, hissing at the sting it caused on the sensitive skin. Kleenex did a much better job, but the box was currently sitting on your desk, which was in the middle of the vast office you worked at. And the last thing you wanted was wandering eyes and gossips flowing around the office with you in the center of it all.

Blowing your nose, you groaned and buried your face in your hands. Expletives ricocheted back and forth inside your brain, almost all of them directed at your former boyfriend, but some of them were for yourself. You had been foolish, utterly and completely foolish. Thinking that he was as in love with you as you were with him, you had even asked him to move in the previous week. He had just smiled at you and told you he’d think about it.

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Summer Camp

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 4800

Prompt: 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Not helping me with the table or being a dick to me the last month?” Y/N snaps, grabbing a fist full of his shirt.

Harry presses his lips in a line, he’s trying his hardest not to laugh. Y/N didn’t seem like the type to swear and she looked cute when she got mad. Her nose would flare in anger and she would let out an annoyed sigh. Her hand moved from his shirt to his arm and she gripped it tightly (and Harry felt like maybe, just maybe, it was supposed to hurt him).

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Harry chuckles.

“And you’re cute when you’re not a fucking asshole,” Y/N retorts.

Harry laughs, his grip on her tighten slightly as he lets out a huge and loud laugh, “oi! What was that for?” he asks when he feels a sting on his arm.

“For being mean to me the last month, what did I do?” Y/N asks.

“Yeh did nothing,” Harry says, and he feels Y/N’s hand smack his arm again, “okay-fuck, you’re strong for such a little thing,” he grumbles, “I heard you talking about me to the rest, laughing, saying you would never date me-oi! That’s the last one you get, next one, I leave you here and you can hop all the way up the path on your own.”

or 

Harry works at a summer camp where he really hates kids and people, but Y/N is an exception.


Harry hated people.

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Tantalizing: 07

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Dom!Jungkook, Intercourse, Oral, Blowjob, Hair Pulling, Tons of Fucking Angst, Masturbating, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Slight Degrading Names?
Word Count: 6,631

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Older brother Namjooon+ rest of BTS scolds you PT.8

BTS x Reader

Genre: Angst

Namjoon’s Sister AU

[PT.1] [PT.2] [PT.3][PT.4] [PT.5] [PT.6] [PT.7] [PT.8] [PT.9] [PT.10] [PT.11] [PT.12] [PT.13]


Originally posted by sannal2054

Taehyung’s p.o.v

Without another word she got up and walked away. I felt bad. No, I felt awful. She said I’d betrayed her, I hurt her. I hurt my cute lil raindrop that I care about so dearly. How could I do that to her when she specifically asked me not to bring them? What did I do? 

I walked my way back to the cafe, where the guys expected me to bring Y/N back with me. I made my way in and sat down. 

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked. 

“She hates me now too.” I swallowed hard. I still couldn’t believe myself, how did I manage to hurt someone that I love?

“What do you mean?” Hobi asked, frowning.

“I was never supposed to bring you guys with me. I was never supposed to break her promise and tell you that I was going to see her today. She trusted me and I betrayed that.” 

“Why is she being so damn dramatic about everything? Can’t she just grow the fuck up already?” Jimin said slamming his hands on the table.

“Ya, she’s like this because of you guys. She’s completely torn, and so hurt because all you guys care about is the way you look in the public eye. Have you never taken into consideration her feelings? You guys spoke badly of her behind her back. Namjoon hyung, you of all people should have known better. You of all people should have stuck up for her, protected her when she needed you the most. And Jimin, you seriously call yourself her best friend? She couldn’t even tell you that she was suffering. We were all so damn clueless about her. We all just assumed that she was okay. Every time something bad was written about her, we only assumed she was okay. We only ever assumed that she was in the wrong. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to go find her because it seems to me non of you even care.”  I shook my head and left them all sitting there completely silent. 

Y/N’s p.o.v

I didn’t know where I was walking to, I had no idea where I was going. But I kept walking, I was beyond hurt. It was slowly becoming more and more unbearable. I thought I had it all, I had big brother who once treated me so well, and his best friends thought of me as their own sister too at one point. But I mess up one time and lose everything. I lose my brother, I lose my best friend and I lose the last person I thought I could trust. 

Who did I have left? Myself? I don’t even know who I am anymore. Who would have known that losing the closest people around you could hurt this much? Was I the one at fault here? Maybe I am. Maybe non of this would have happened if I just didn’t do anything, maybe I would still have my brother and his friends, my best friends if I just, listened to them and took in what they had said. Maybe they wouldn’t be put in such difficult positions if I just, if I just wasn’t around them anymore. They’ve proved to me that they didn’t need me, they never did. They have each other and thats all that they needed. 

Just my luck, it’s raining. It didn’t even take long until I was completely soaked from head to toe. I didn’t have an umbrella, I didn’t have a jacket but I kept walking, Walking in the rain hid the fact that my tears never stopped falling, no one could see that I was dying more and more inside. That this feeling of being alone and so lonely was tearing me up.

 I’ve been walking for hours now, it hasn’t stopped raining and it was getting darker each second. I felt so numb, I felt the world beneath me spinning. I looked up and saw that I had finally reached my apartment complex. I lived alone, mum and dad thought it was a good idea for me to be independent. But look where that got me. I walked into the building, and noticed that the elevators were broken down. Nothing wanted to go well for me did it? The world hates me. So I walked slowly up the stairs and made my way up to the eleventh floor. I felt as though I was going to collapse, but I kept walking until I reached my door. Only to find him sat with his head in his hands and that was the last thing I saw.


PT.9?

Teen Dad Two

Teen Dad Two

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: none I think lol

A/N: If you want a part 3, let me know. Again, if this does not get much request for part three (which is most likely a last part) then it ends here. I hope you guys like it as much (or even more) than the first one :) I larb you guys lots!

Tagged: @wannabe-weasley @littlemisscaptainfandom  @left-boob-chris @briannareneea985

Teen Dad (PART ONE)


“Did he really just say ’I still have that Stark Internship after all’?” you thought.

Is he saying that being Spider-Man is more important than you two’s future?

Even May was surprised.

“Is that all you care about Peter?”

“It’s my future (Y/n)!”

“And this baby isn’t?!”

May walked up to Peter, I think she was about to slap him, but you stopped her before she could even pass you.

“I just don’t think I could be a dad yet (Y/n). Wh– what are you going to do?”

“What am I going to do?”

He nods. Wow.

You scoff, scratching the back of your head.

“I can’t believe you right now,” you said quietly, looking away from him.

You turn to him slowly.

“I’m going to raise this baby by myself. If you’re not going to help me.”

And with that, you got up and walked away. Stopping by the door, you turn to Aunt May.

“I’ll keep you updated May.”

Then you turn to Peter.

“See you around Pete.”

And with that, you were gone. No pleading for you to stay, no ‘I’m sorry (Y/n), I didn’t mean to. Please don’t go.’ Not even a text, or a call. There might be some tears. Though you didn’t see them, you saw his eyes shining, covered with a thin layer of unshattered tears.

I guess this was it.


It’s been a few weeks since the day you told Peter. Still no word from him.

You were now a month and a half along. Still not showing.

You got new sonogram pictures. You would stop by Peter’s to give them to Aunt May. Peter was never there. Being Spider-Man seems like his only priority.

Winter Break was starting, you finished your last final of the first semester. This was the first time you got through a final without having a ‘study date’ with Peter the week before.

Walking through the hallways of Midtown, you saw Peter for the first time in weeks. He was taking out books from his locker, while talking to Ned.

You sucked it up, holding your head up high, and walking right past him. He didn’t even flinch, continuously talking to Ned.

“Dude, she just walked past you. What are you doing? I haven’t seen you talking in weeks! What is going on?”

“It’s complicated Ned.”

“Seriously, what’s happening between you too?”

Peter looks at him with a stern face, opening his locker wider for him to see.

“Woah, are you serious?”

Inside his locker door was two ultrasounds pictures. The first one you ever got taken and the second one you just took. You gave two to Aunt May, just incase Peter decided to care.

“Is it (Y/n)’s?”

Peter scoffs, giving Ned a shove, “of course it’s hers! Who else would it be?”

Ned holds his hands up, “alright. Geez.”

Peter looks at him silently before slamming his locker close.

“What am I going to do Ned?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to lose her, but then again, I’m not ready to be a dad either!”

He sighs, rubbing his face, “I can’t take care of a baby and the world at the same time.”

“The world? That’s what the Avengers are for.”

“Alright, then the city.”

“Which one do you think is more important? Being Spider-Man or being with (Y/n)?”

Peter looks at his best friend, then the ground, “I don’t know Ned. I love being Spider-Man, but I love (Y/n) too. I have no idea what to do.”

He looks back up to him.

“I’m scared.”


When you got home, you ran straight to your room, ignoring your mom’s question.

“How was your day sweetie?”

She says it everyday, and everyday you replied with a sniffle.

You jumped on your bed, crying for the millionth time. You actually saw him today, and he didn’t even notice you. He really doesn’t care does he?

You lay there, for the rest of the day.

“This is how I’m going to be spending the next two weeks aren’t I?” you asked yourself.

“No, no you’re not.”

You turn around to see your mom standing at the door.

“What do you mean I’m not? I’ve been spending the last few weeks like this and I think I’m starting to get used to it.”

She walks towards you, sitting at the foot of your bed.

“You need to stop crying about Peter.”

“Why mom? Why? I can’t help it that it upsets me that a stupid ‘internship’ is more important than our relationship.”

Your mom looks at your face with concern, wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks.

“I promise, everything will be alright.”

You nod.

Because you trusted her words.

Because your mom never broke a promise.


Peter climbed out the window, wearing his suit, swinging across the city.

He stopped at the roof of one building, just comfortably sitting at the edge, eating a churro.

“Hello? Mr. Stark? I just wanted to know if I have any missions to go to this coming week? I just got out of school. I have winter break for two weeks, so I’m free for whenever you need me!”

“Nope! We got everything covered! Enjoy your winter break Spidey, by–”

“Wait! Mr. Stark! What if you have any emergency missions? Call me?”

“Spidey– listen– we have everything under control alright? Just enjoy your break. Spend time with your girlfriend or something. (Y/n) right?”

Peter suddenly felt his heart drop, looking down at the cars and shops below him.

“Yeah, about that–” Peter scratches his head. He can feel a knot beginning to form in his throat.

“Mr. Stark?”

“What is it Peter?”

“I made a huge mistake and I still don’t know what to do about it.”

Peter had tears streaming down his cheeks. He runs his fingers through his messy curls.

“I– I don’t know what to do..”


Peter waited in front of Starbucks, then, a car pulled up to him.

The windows roll down slowly, “Get in.”

Peter nodded, getting into the black car.

“So what happened Pete? What’s got you so down?”

Peter looks up at Tony, “(Y/n)’s pregnant, and I didn’t react the way she wanted me too when she told me and we haven’t talked for weeks.”

Tony scoffs, “that’s it? Why? You didn’t start crying? Or screaming ‘oh my gosh this is amazing!’? Girls always expect so much more, don’t they?”

Peter shook his head ‘no’, “No, it wasn’t like that Mr. Stark.”

“Then what happened?”

Peter inhaled deeply, “I told her that I wasn’t ready to be a dad because I had to be Spider-Man and I can’t do those two at once.”

Tony looks at him with a shocked expression, shaking his head and turning away from him.

“And why would you say that?” he said, after a moment of looking out the window.

Peter shrugged, “I don’t know? Because it’s true?”

“You care about being Spider-Man more than (Y/n)?”

“I– I don’t know?”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“I don’t know! Maybe because being Spider-Man would be better than being a dad.”

Tony shook his head.

“Peter. Do you like not having a dad?”

“No? Why would you say that?”

“Then why are you doing that to your own child? You’re really leaving (Y/n) to be Spider-Man?”

“Well, if you think about it, I’d be saving a lot of lives.”

“And how does that work?”

“Well… if I stay with (Y/n) and raise the baby, I would be taking care of two lives. Her and the baby right? But if I become Spider-Man, I’d be saving millions of lives.”

“But whose lives are more important to you?”

“My family of course.”

“And who are your family?”

“Aunt May and (Y/n).”

“Well so which are you choosing, being Spider-Man, or being a dad?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

Tony rolls his eyes, this kid is just not getting it.

“Peter, I’m saying this one more time. You said your family’s lives are more important to you, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“If you were out right now, as Spidey, and you’re alone and you spot two crimes while swinging across buildings. One: A bank is getting robbed, the employees are held at gunpoint. Two: (Y/n)’s getting robbed and having a gun to her head. Who would you go to?”

“(Y/n).”

“But more people would die if you don’t stop the bank robbery. If you go to (Y/n), only one life would be saved.”

Peter looked down, and thought about it.

“Do you understand now?”

He nods, before getting out of the car and running off.

Not another word to Tony Stark.

Favorite Adam moments

It’s Adam Parrish’s birthday and since he’s a character that has made me bite my fingernails and yell at the page and grin like an idiot and maybe even get a moist eye or two (this despite being spoiled to his ending), here are some of my favorite Adam moments in (I think) chronological order:

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