what is this wonderful thing and how did i not know about it before

OK so since @tom-hiddleston-god-of-mischief and other people showed interest, I bumped up my schedule and so…

Here is my ‘Craig is totally gay and was in love with the MC in college’ post!

So, first off- this is Craig Cahn and the thing that made me first think that he was gay instead of bi. (And fyi I am a Bi myself, so this is more headcanoning and exploring character and not trying to stomp on other headcanons, jsyk.)

Yeah the very first time we met. But look- divorces do happen, and do happen in a chill manner. But… let us note a couple things. One, the divorce literally only happened ‘last year’. Which could mean anywhere from (assuming this is the spring due to college letters and school timetables) 12+ to only 3-ish months ago depending on what counts as ‘last year’.

You only get a SECOND of him being uncomfortable while breaking the news before he is on even ground and is like ‘yeah it’s old news and everything is in perfect order now’. AND THE DIVORCE HAPPENED EITHER WHILE SMASHLEY WAS PREGNANT OR JUST HAD RIVER. Now, this could be a him lying, except… it’s never really brought up again as a thing? Like, we deal with Mat’s feelings for his dead wife, Joseph’s failing marriage, and etc but despite how recent it was we are lead to believe their divorce was perfectly amicable despite the timing.  (Now placing a cut here because this gets long and has more pics.)

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The next day, Shouyou returned to the temple.

There was no use in staying at the villa—not when Kageyama would be gone, and no one left there to fill the awful hole that seemed to have opened in Shouyou’s heart.

It was different, than all the times they’d said goodbye before it. Different even than the first time, when Shouyou had thought he wouldn’t be returning month after month, to tumble from the carriage doors and run straight to where Kageyama waited, always, for him.

It was worse now, having made up his mind to stay, but having no idea when Kageyama could return to him. So Shouyou came back to the temple, to wait. At least there, he had the people he’d grown up with. He had his duties. He could try, as best he could, to be distracted.

And, as little as it was, he was not wholly without news of his centurion. For Kageyama sent him letters, as often as he was able.

The first letter came in place of the carriage that would have usually arrived to bring Shouyou to the temple. It was delivered by messenger, and Shouyou was so eager to open the wax seal with Kageyama’s insignia that he nearly ripped the paper in two. He snuck away to a secluded corner where he could read undisturbed.

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Kiss Me Not -Part 2-

Find Part One Here!

Let’s get this party started, shall we?


Harry threw back the last of his fire whisky and thumped the glass down on the table, yelling above the music from the wireless, “I’m gonna kiss everyone in this room!”

A drunken cheer greeted his declaration. A girl sitting behind him startled to her feet, her drink spilling over her fingers as she stepped closer, “Me first,” she smiled shyly.

She had been flirting rather desperately with Harry all night and though he wasn’t interested in the slightest he leaned down. She twitched forward eagerly and was just as quickly pushed back quite a distance from Harry. Apparently, she was a particularly bad match.

He didn’t laugh in her face but it was a near thing. He was just drunk enough that awfulness of his situation was fucking hilarious.

“Sorry,” Harry grinned and turned to the person sitting beside her and then the next person and the next. One miss after another as the music and chatter grew louder and the night wore on. He teased Dean and Seamus into a kiss, Dean almost managed it, close enough Harry could feel his laughter before he pulled away to give Seamus a proper kiss. He did not kiss Ron or Hermione, it would’ve been like kissing a sibling and he wasn’t interested in having creepy nightmares about it for the rest of his life. Everyone else he approached humoured him and gave Harry a go at a quick kiss.

He was fast running out of people to try- and fail -to kiss when he found himself at the back corner of the room, the large couch pushed against the wall had been taken over by the only three Slytherin’s who came back to finish up their schooling, Blaise, Pansy and, Draco Malfoy. They were relaxed, somewhat sprawled over one another with a bottle of fire whisky to pass between them. They weren’t nearly as relaxed when they noticed Harry staring at them, the lot of them stiffening like a group of alley cats arching their backs and hissing.

What?” Pansy lifted her nose with a sniff, “We’ve a right to be here, same as you.”

“You need something, Potter?” Blaise asked.

Harry blinked, “A kiss,” he said. Once upon a time, the prospect of kissing a trio of Slytherins would have been far too nerve-wracking but not anymore. The thing about trying to kiss about a hundred odd people was that the whole procedure rather lost it’s magic, so to speak.

They all stared at him blankly.

“I did say I was going to kiss everyone in the room,” Harry made a show of looking around, “You’re here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Pansy said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Blaise laughed,  pushing himself to his feet and out of the tangle of his friend’s legs without somehow tripping himself up, “Me first, Boy-wonder,” Blaise said with the smug challenging sort of look that seemed to be calling out Harry’s bluff.

Harry returned the look, “Get on with it then.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed Blaise’s face before he managed to mask it, crossing the distance between them.

Harry tried to stay calm. The whole kissing thing seemed to work out better if he could but it was pointless since Blaise hardly had a go at all. As soon as the nudging pressure began to make itself known he backed off with a smirk.

Blaise dropped back onto the couch with a thud, “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

Pansy looked from Harry to Blaise curiously and then popped up, approaching Harry with a tilt to her head that brought to Harry’s mind the alley cat image again. She went up on tiptoes and Harry leaned down as she tried to kiss the corner of his mouth. Harry was a little surprised how close she got, about a half an inch away.

Her eyes widened as she pulled back. She exchanged a questioning look with Blaise that turned into a knowing one.

She looked back at Harry with an appraising smile, “I see,” she said to herself as she slowly backed away from him.

When the back of her legs hit the couch she stopped and looked over at Draco who was sitting stiffly in the centre. His arms were wrapped nervously around his waist, one hand clutching the neck of the whisky bottle as he scowled up at Harry.

“Your turn, Draco,” Pansy said. When he didn’t move immediately she gave his ankle a halfhearted kick, “Come on.”

Blaise leaned over, grabbing hold of his shoulder and pushing him forward, “Give it a go, my friend. It’s a laugh.”

Draco looked over at Blaise furiously. A flush was rising in his cheeks as he knocked Blaise’s hand away and stood unsteadily, pushing the bottle into Pansy’s chest with a bit too much force. He wavered on his feet, two sheets gone already, his eyes looking like he was having trouble focusing.

Harry watched with growing apprehension. Draco was flushed, his hair gone a little wild, even his clothes were slightly rumpled and there was a grim determination in his eyes. He took a deep breath, absentmindedly pulling his shirt straight and smoothing his hair back with one hand, though it didn’t stay.

A prickle started on the back of Harry’s neck, the hair on his arms standing up. His heart rate began to pick up as the shivery tension raced through Harry with every step Draco got closer. He had felt this before when they fought, this thundering, shivery pulling feeling. Harry had always thought it was the adrenaline from being angry and from fighting but…

Draco stopped a foot away and then almost swayed forward until they were almost touching. Harry saw close his eyes briefly as if gathering himself, a shiver made his shoulder twitch. When he opened his eyes again Harry felt transfixed by the flat grey colour. Harry’s hand moving without his permission, pressing against the flat planes of Draco’s chest,. Harry felt another shiver go through Draco, stronger than the last, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp, his pupils darkening.

Harry leaned forward, almost haltingly. He kept expecting the pressure to start, to push him back, but instead, it almost felt like he was being tugged closer, and there was almost a static hum in the air, prickling along his skin. He reached up, brushing his fingers lightly on Draco’s chin, too nervous to actually cup his cheek. Draco tilted his head and Harry felt his breath ghost across his lips, felt his lips, soft and careful and shivering just like Harry was and-

“ENOUGH!” Headmistress McGonagall’s voice cut through the party like a blade of ice. “This party is over.

Harry and Draco startled away from each other. The music was shut off and the room slowly took on the deathly calm of those who know they are completely and utterly hosed.

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed as she looked over the room, “There will be no more parties, for the rest of the year,” she said coldly, “Hogsmeade weekends are canceled and everyone here, including eighth years, are to remain on the castle grounds for the next three months-” there was a chorus of groans that was abruptly cut off with a single look, “-All of your curfews are now at eight pm, all of you.” There were no attempts to complain this time, simply an overwhelming and spreading air of despair. “If you are going to act like children, you will be treated like children. If any of you are found with alcohol on school grounds again, you will be suspended,” she pursed her lips in disappointment, “I do hope you will learn from this. Now go to your dorms.”

The students swayed and shuffled out of the room with their heads low to avoid eye contact.

Harry hadn’t moved. He wasn’t entirely aware of what was happening until a hand firmly took him by the upper arm.

“Mr Potter.” McGonagall said, some of the sternness leaving her voice, “Are you well? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?”

“I- What-?” Harry asked blankly, his mind entirely consumed by a single kiss, so brief there was part of his mind that wasn’t entity certain it had happened.

McGonagall frowned, her question changing to an order, “Go to the hospital wing. Have Poppy look you over.”

“The hospital wing,” Harry repeated.

The room was entirely empty. Harry didn’t know when that had happened.

“You’re trembling Harry,” McGonagall said, looking Harry over with concern,  “I’ll walk you there myself.”


Part 1 ~ Part 2 (you are here!) ~ Part 3(Coming soon!)

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

Joseph Christiansen Secret/Cult Ending Manuscript

I went digging through the Level 18 gibberish and sorted out all the dialogue into a manageable manuscript if anyone is interested in reading this secret wild ride. None of the dialogue is labeled so I did my best to interpret who was saying what so any mistakes are my bad. It took a few hours to put together but I felt like some people would like more than just a summary so here is the full text:

MC will be short for Main Character or your player.

** edit 07/26/17: minor text fixes, better formatting, the insertion of more images (courtesy of purpledragon42) , and insert of a working readmore **

Level 18- Joseph Bad Ending or True Ending ( Who knows? )

This appears to take place after MC and Joseph Christiansen engage in sex in the yacht, except you don’t wake up to what you expect. This takes place in Cult_Dungeon1.

(Photo Credits: Game Grumps)

START: You’re A Monster

MC:

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. What time is it? Must have been asleep for ages. I wonder what will happen now that Mary is gone? What about Joseph’s kids? And how will Amanda feel about all this? That’s what matters… . Well, we all have each other. I guess time will tell, right? Better get up and greet the day.

Am I tied up?! What the hell?! How did I get here? What’s going on?! Joseph? Anybody?

You’re probably just dreaming. Why would there be a… Don’t panic… . a dungeon. An evil dungeon. Why would there be an evil dungeon here? This can’t be real. Maybe I had too much Twilight Rouge. I’m dreaming, or something.

???:

Oh, I guarantee this is real.

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SDCC SU Panel stuff!

- Zach: “Rebecca, what can you tell us about what’s to come next on Steven Universe?”
Rebecca: “I’m really excited, well … We’ve had these incredibly huge events lately, and we’re just gonna see the fallout, this bomb, there will be HUGE consequences to everything that’s happened, and the rollercoaster has sort of rocketed forward from here on out, so these next episodes were really exciting to make.”

- A VERY intense trailer was shown of what’s to come next. I couldn’t see it, I could only hear it. The audio I transcribed below:
Pearl: “I thought you’d see it someday, but … I thought I’d be there with you.”
Steven: “You’re safe! You’re here! I’m here! We’re safe, everything’s fine.”
Connie: “But it’s not, though.”
Steven: “I just wanted to save everyone, but I couldn’t even do that. I don’t know how I’m gonna get you out of this. Are you doing okay?”
Sadie: “Well, I’m worried about Lars being in space, and I hope he’s safe and all.”
Blue or Yellow Zircon: “You RAN?! From Blue and Yellow Diamond?!!”
Greg: “I don’t know anything about Homeworld, I don’t know anything about your (intangible), you guys have to put it in the contest!”
Pearl: “There are things on Earth that are impossible for me to explain. But I want to.”
Lapis: “They’re gonna take her anger out on this planet, just like they did before. I WON’T let myself get caught up in another war.”
Peridot: “Earth is our home now! Isn’t it worth fighting for … ?”

- A new Save The Light trailer was shown, and a new Peridot was revealed in the game! Her name is ‘Squaridot’, she has square hair, limb enhancers, and a left eye gem.

- Q: “Would Rainbow Quartz be the same or different with Steven?”
Rebecca: "Rainbow Quartz 2.0 would variably be different …….. it …….. Forget I said that. That’s a very good question thank you.”

- Q: “Have we seen the full extent of Lion’s powers?”
Rebecca: “I don’t think we’ve seen the full extent of Lion’s abilities yet”, etc.

- Q: “Which Off Color do you relate the most to and why?”
Rebecca: “Rhodonite. The neurotic one.”
Zach: “Padparadscha.”
Deedee: “Padparadscha.”

- Q: “I was wondering if there was any challenges making the music for the show?”
Rebecca: “Oh of course, we don’t get any extra time to do episodes with songs in them than episodes without songs in them. I think the most challenging one was Mr. Greg.”

- Q: “While making the show (cont.), I’ve been a creator for a long time, and I just had to ask: Do you gauge if something’s gonna be really popular? Like Padparadscha immediately became an enormous meme.”
Rebecca: “I think we focus on loving what we’re making. We all love Padaparadscha, so … I suppose it wasn’t a surprise to see people loved her too. I think some of the stuff that catches on is the fun ideas we have, and that was one of those where someone at a big writer’s meeting pitched that concept of a Sapphire that sees the past and we all just loved it instantly (cont.) … and thought how sweet that would be. And I always thought of Sapphires being Zelda-esque, so I really wanted a sort of Peach to contrast her Zelda.”

- Q: “Was Lars becoming pivotal something you planned from the beginning?”
Rebecca: “I think it happened naturally, because Lars was one of the oldest characters in the show. I was drawing Lars and Sadie back in college. They’re older than Steven Universe. I think they were always gonna be very very important.”

SDCC 2017 Rebecca Sugar interview

Rewind and Pause interviewed Rebecca Sugar in this fifteen-minute interview. Here’s a sorta-transcript–not word for word, but basically what the questions are and how she answered, paraphrased.

Question: A lot of the show’s symbolism is inspired by Utena. Can you discuss that show’s influence?

Rebecca: When I was a teen, that show was an epiphany for me! It plays with the semiotics of gender and I was a bisexual teen relating to it in a way I’d never related to anything before. The show is beautiful and I love that she decides she wants to BE a prince after being saved by a prince. And it’s also funny. It’s so extreme that it’s funny, and that was a huge influence on me as well, that something could be so dramatic and so beautiful but also wacky. It’s so extreme that it’s powerful at the same time as being funny. I got to see the origins and see Guys and Dolls at the Takarazuka Theater when I visited Japan. Osamu Tezuka grew up in that town! You know, Princess Knight, which has everything to do with Utena. I got to see some of the roots there and it was a big influence. Amazing.

Question: Another influence, especially lately, you can draw comparisons between Steven’s miracles and Christ figures. Are you exploring this, and potentially modernizing that allegory, with different kinds of love?

Rebecca: We’re inspired by every voice that has ever spoken about peace. I think–I’ve been reading about Hillel the Elder and how he said “If I’m not for myself, then who will be for me?” The gentleness with which he approached everything is really inspiring to me. I think that I’m very influenced by my Jewish upbringing. I’m half Jewish and was raised Jewish. I’ve felt the feeling of belonging but not belonging. I’ve been moved by this incredible history and this wonderful community that I wanted to understand and be a part of. That’s all been a big influence on the show as well. It was all about growing up with my brother, and that was a big part of my life. There’s a lot of spiritualism in the show.

Question: I wanna ask you about the color symbolism? And I’d be remiss if I didn’t say thank you for showing our community on TV. About Steven: His Gem is pink, his shield is pink, his sword is pink, his shoes are pink! It subverts the tropes of a traditional male hero. Was that intentional?

Rebecca: Oh, it’s COMPLETELY intentional. Yeah, I think one of the things I wanted to do as I went into the show was address how intensely gendered shows for children are and dissolve that. That was my first goal. And I think it came in large part because as a little kid I always gravitated toward boys’ shows, and I felt extremely guilty about that. And I don’t think my child self should have had to feel bad, but I understood “this is not really for me.” So as we went into this, I wanted NO ONE to have to feel that. I wanted everyone who wanted to, to feel it was for them. Especially since it’s gender nonconforming as a show.

Question: Silly question: Peridot and Lapis are roommates. What do you think their biggest pet peeves are of each other? If they have any, I mean.

Rebecca: Gosh. I think Lapis is sort of both annoyed and comforted by Peridot’s infinite energy. I often thought of them like the sort of old cartoon idea of a small dog and a big sort of like doesn’t-really-care dog. With a small very very excited dog. I felt that that was a dynamic for them. So I think that that, like those characters, it’s annoying to Lapis but she doesn’t actually dislike it.

Question: Congrats on the Emmy nomination!

Rebecca: THANK YOU!

Question: I hope we get to see “It’s Over, Isn’t It?” and “Both of You” during the Emmys. How do you feel?

Rebecca: I’m so excited, and I’m so glad it’s that one. It was such a fun dream to make a musical episode. I always loved those, they’re always my favorite. I couldn’t wait to do ours. Everyone was firing on all cylinders for that episode. I got to do music with Jeff Liu and Ben Levin, and Aivi and Surasshu’s compositions for the finals were stunning, the backgrounds are incredible, the art is so beautiful, it’s Jeff Liu and Joe Johnston’s last board together, it was one of the last episodes I got to work on with Ian before he left to do his show, so it also has a special place in my heart, I remember seeing it come back and being in the edit bay watching it and my eyes were welling up because “this is it, this is everything I ever wanted.”

Question: Not to mention Deedee crushing it.

Rebecca: She’s amazing! And that was when she was doing Tommy! So we got her on a day she’d been doing shows all day, and she came and knocked that out.

Question: First take?

Rebecca: We did several, but all of those takes were amazing. I love writing songs for Deedee. And that one, it has some notes in it that I cannot hit. But I know Deedee can do it.

Question: Now when you write songs, you hear a lot of the demos you write on ukulele a lot, but you play other instruments. Do you find that you write differently depending on what instrument you’re writing for?

Rebecca: Yes! Oh, completely. I have my go-to ukulele chords. But I also like to write songs on the omnichord, which is like a synthetic harpsichord from the 80s. And it has a row of buttons, you hit a button and you get that chord. I can use it for experimentation for chords I might not have thought of. I got one off eBay, the OM-84, and it was a little buggy, it wouldn’t play right, would go out of tune, and I took it to get it looked at, and these incredibly corroded batteries fell out of it! With this cloud of red dust! So I can’t put batteries in it anymore. But I can plug it in and it still works.

Question: So for “Love Like You,” is it connected to any of the characters or any point of view, or was it more a one-off?

Rebecca: “Love Like You” is so unusual. It started as a point-of-view song for all Gems, and the thesis of the whole show, sort of toward Steven, and my own brother Steven, but because it was the credits, I wrote the song over three years in little pieces. I thought at the start that this is about an alien that’s looking at a human, who loves them, and the secret meaning of this is that they don’t have the capacity to feel this way. By the middle of it I was deep into the show and going through a real crisis of confidence, where I was like “why are people looking to me? It’s not right!” and these people were coming out of the woodwork to thank me for the show, people who had been able to speak to their families in these wonderful new ways, people who had become comfortable with themselves in these incredible ways that I had not been able to do! Where I was like “I’m so inspired by everyone! Why are they thanking me?” So the middle of the song I was sort of in that place. And about a year later, I realized the beginning was not what I had thought it was about at all. It’s not a secret meaning about an alien who doesn’t understand humans. It’s about the fact that I had always loved my brother and had these people who would love me unconditionally in my life, and because of my insecurity I had not been able to be there for them 100%, and I realized this was maybe one of the most human things I’d ever written, and I had written it by accident. So I got to conclude it. It was seriously written over 3 years.

Question: Recently we talked about how the show has been dramatic and full of conflict. It’s great but do you ever have concerns about taking the show–it’s a very positive show, so does the conflict have the potential to go too far, or do you like making it more challenging?

Rebecca: I’m excited to be more ambitious with the story, and the danger they’re experiencing also feels like a danger for us who are writing the show. Writing stories that are more ambitious and challenging. It feels necessary, because it’s about how love conquers all, but you can’t write that story without showing what comes up against that. I’m excited to explore the–you’re right, it’s scary to explore where hate comes from in a show about love. I want to–it’s a challenge to stay positive while exploring that. But that’s a challenge I experience in LIFE. And that’s a challenge we’re all experiencing right now. So it also feels like the time to explore that in myself and in the show.

Lockers - Peter Parker

request -  hey, welcome to tumblr ! great username XD i was wondering if you could do a scenario where the reader was in the elevator then as spiderman pulls her up, she recognizes his voice then the next day, she confronts peter in at school, in an empty classroom and says she knows who he is and then hugs him out of nowhere and so much fluff ugh. thank you and i wish you the best with the blog !

a/n - i went through many different plots/settings with this fic so it took a while but, writing this was really fun. it sort of become rly super duper long so i apologize for that LOL and hopefully the fluff isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!

The elevator began to shake even more, dropping one more time before I felt as if our fate was waiting for us down at the bottom floor. The broken glass made it hard to stand up, but what was even worse was that I was the only one left in the doomed elevator.

“Grab onto my hand!” The officer shouted at me, extending his arm to be the best way he could. I tried to desperately to reach it, but I couldn’t. The mix of adrenaline and fear had struck my body to the max.

“Sir, I-I can’t.” I cried, my heart breaking even more. Just then, the elevator went down another foot, and I felt my back press up against the tarnished wall. All I could hear was the harsh beat of my heart and the yells for help from the people up top.

“(Y/N) please! Try again!” I heard Liz yell from above. The situation had become to surreal to me that I almost became numb to it, with what could happen in a matter of seconds not scaring me as much as it should be.

Before I could register anything else, the sound of glass breaking snapped me back into reality. But surprisingly, it wasn’t from the elevator.

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The Other Guy

summary: pietro proves to y/n that bucky is into her by doing everything in his power to make him jealous

pairing: bucky x reader, pietro x reader [pretended]

word count: 3.6k+

warnings: mentions of smut, jealousy, annoyed bucky, confrontation

a/n: literally wanna vom just thinking about hurting bucky like this i would never also this is shit but its been chilling in my drafts for 8 millions years so i decided to post it

“You are so full of shit,” Y/N laughed, absentmindedly stirring the oatmeal in her bowl. She sat at the kitchen island, blinded by the early morning sun, her pink sock clad feet swinging above the ground. She was dressed in only her tiny pyjama shorts and a hoodie, hair messy and the side of her face slightly red due to the position she slept in.

Pietro stood by the counter, dumping a bunch of different berries into a blender. It was only 8:30am and most of the compound was still fast asleep. Y/N and Pietro, however, made plans the night before to get up early, train together and then go out and buy a present for Wanda; Pietro’s way of apologising for crashing her date a few days back. The witch hadn’t spoken to him since and Pietro was slowly growing exasperated. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” Pietro chuckled, putting the lid on the blender and glancing at her over his shoulder. “He’s into you. I can prove it.”

Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes and pushing another spoonful of bland oatmeal past her lips.

Pietro switched on the blender, his back facing the shorter girl as he worked on preparing his usual morning smoothie. The loud noise of the blender continued to buzz inside Y/N’s ears even after Pietro had switched off the appliance. 

“I’d like to see you try, Maximoff,” Y/N smirked, provoking a quiet laugh from the speedster’s side. He popped off the lid of the blender, glanced inside to make sure his smoothie was ready and then made his way across the kitchen to grab a glass.

“I’m going to murder Bucky if he keeps eating my cereal. This stuff is gross,” she complained, pushing her bowl away with a roll of her eyes. She couldn’t understand how Steve could push the tasteless oatmeal past his lips. Unfortunately, since Bucky had cleared the cupboards of her usual breakfast cereal, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yeah, right. You wouldn’t lay a finger on Buck if your life depended on it,” Pietro laughed, soon realising he had to empty the dishwasher in order to find a clean glass. He bent over, focusing on the task at hand as Y/N pushed herself up and placed her bowl of oatmeal in the sink.

“You know me all too well,” she murmured, glancing inside Pietro’s blender and then back at him to make sure he wasn’t looking. Realising he wasn’t, Y/N grabbed her glass of water from the island, dumped the contents into the sink and hurried to fill it with the berry smoothie instead. When she was finished, she hopped onto the counter and sipped innocently on Pietro’s drink until he finally realised what she had done. 

“Thief,” he narrowed his eyes at her, abandoning his mission of emptying the dishwasher. He looked towards the now empty blender, realising he’d have to make more if he wanted to have a berry smoothie for breakfast. 

“Not a thief. Bucky’s a thief because he stole my cereal. I’m just… taking what’s rightfully mine. I did the grocery shopping yesterday.”

Pietro laughed, making his way across the kitchen and coming to a stop opposite Y/N.

“I don’t think he’d like to hear you say that. He’s too into you to not be upset by such words,” he teased.

“Right, he’s so into me he keeps stealing my cereal to piss me off. So romantic,” Y/N rolled her eyes sarcastically and Pietro shook his head at her. He watched her expression as she sipped on the smoothie, wondering if it tasted as good as he hoped.

When Y/N didn’t say anything about it, Pietro took a few steps forwards so that he was standing between her parted legs and reached for one of the straws sitting in a glass container behind Y/N on the counter.

She quirked a brow as he slid the straw into her glass. He leaned in, captured the end between his teeth and took a generous sip of the smoothie.

“Um, excuse you,” she objected, trying her hardest to hold back her laughter.

Y/N held the glass in both hands, far enough from herself for Pietro to drink from, and yet not far enough to not feel his breath on her skin. They were standing only inches apart and to anyone watching the interation could appear to be awfully intimate; so it wasn’t a surprise that only seconds later Y/N had to tear her eyes away from Pietro upon hearing someone clearing their throat.

Bucky was standing leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his muscular chest, one eyebrow cocked expectantly. He eyes the two Avengers already occupying the kitchen, then focused solely on Pietro with a confused glance. 

The speedster didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s stare, only looking at him for a brief second before turning back to Y/N. He placed the straw back between his lips and sucked. 

When Y/N looked down at him, Pietro was smirking knowingly. 

“Morning, Buck,” Y/N said cheerfully, trying to seem casual despite Pietro still standing between her parted legs, his hands now resting on either side of her hips, mindlessly humming as he continued sipping on the smoothie. He stepped even closer.

“Morning,” Bucky grumbled in response, strolling past the two of them and yanking open the fridge. He glanced inside, grabbed a tub of ice cream from the freezer and shut the door with unnecessary force. He found a spoon in the cutlery drawer, once more glanced at Pietro and Y/N and headed towards the exit.

When he was out of sight, Pietro finally retreated, clearly satisfied with himself by the shit eating grin across his face.

“What the hell was that about?” Y/N whispered, scared Bucky might still be close enough to hear. Pietro plucked the now empty smoothie glass out of her hands and chuckled as he placed it in the sink.

“Told you I could prove to you he’s into you,” he answered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and reaching out to plug out the blender.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “By almost feeling me up in front of him?”

Pietro scoffed. “I did no such thing,” he protested. “I’m going to prove to you he’s into you. With my help, his possessive self will be asking you out within two days.”

Y/N expelled a humourless chuckle. “Sure he will.”

“I can guarantee you that. Go and change in your training gear and we’ll get started right away,” he challenged, and Y/N eyed him suspiciously before sliding off of the counter.

“Fine, but if this doesn’t work out, you’ll be the one explaining to everyone why you’ve been all over me for two days,” she told him sternly, pointing her index finger in his direction.

Pietro grinned, holding his arms up in surrender. “Fine by me.”

By the time Y/N was dressed in her training gear, her hair brushed back into something that reassembled practicality, Pietro was already waiting for her outside the gym. She appeared behind him with a bottle of water in her hands and managed to scare him a little before he pushed open the door.

“Good choice of clothing,” Pietro commented quietly, nodding towards her shorts, “They’ll surely get his attention.“ 

Y/N walked past, looking at Pietro over her shoulder and furrowing her brows in confusion.

"His attention?” She questioned, and then finally realised that the gym wasn’t empty like she had expected it would be. Steve was running on the treadmill and Bucky was beating the hell out of a punching bag. When they entered, Steve waved a quick greeting but Buck only grumbled, causing Steve to shoot him a confused glance.

Y/N and Pietro strolled over to a bench at the end of the room and set their stuff down.

“I knew he’d be down here after what he saw in the kitchen. He’s probably picturing my face on the punching bag. He needs to blow off some steam,” Pietro murmured, only loud enough for Y/N to hear. 

When she looked towards Bucky, she noticed sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. She looked elsewhere, deciding to take a sip of her water.

“It’s a shame you’re not the one helping him do that. I’m sure it would be more satisfying for him - and you - if that punching bag wasn’t the only thing getting pounded by him.”

Y/N began to choke on her drink. Her body shook with violent coughs, getting the attention of the other two guys across the room. Y/N could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she attempted to stop herself from quite literally… dying.

“Is she alright?” Steve called out, stopping the treadmill as Pietro hit Y/N on the back, attempting to stop her from choking.

When she calmed down, she answered feebly, “I’m fine. Pietro was just… telling me a funny story.”

Bucky scoffed at that and Y/N almost didn’t catch it, but she did; and so did Steve.

“What’s wrong with you this morning?” He asked his best friend, but Bucky only shrugged, watching as Steve headed off to do some heavy lifting.

Pietro nodded for Y/N to follow him to the padded flooring. They did some stretching in silence and while Y/N worked on her arms, she spared another glance in Bucky’s direction. 

His sweat soaked shirt had disappeared and his face showed deep concentration as his fists furiously slammed against the surface of the red punching bag. He was light on his feet, sweat trickling down his face and chest, damp hair pulled back into a messy high pony. He looked damn good.

“Ahem,” Pietro pretended to cough and when Y/N looked back at him he was smirking. He had clearly noticed her staring and was amused by the expression on her face. Pietro handed her her sparring equipment.

“You’re drooling,” he noted, and she smacked his arm playfully.

“Am not,” she protested, finally pulling on her gloves and making her way towards the centre of the mat.

She made sure she was steady, got into position and when Pietro was ready the fighting began. Y/N pulled a few of the signature moves herself and Nat had come up with, and it wasn’t long before Pietro was lying on his back on the floor.

He got up each time and by the fourth time Y/N had him on the mat, she was growing kind of bored. That is, until Pietro managed to kick her legs out from under her and she fell with a loud thud. The silver haired speedster was quick to pin her down, one hand around her neck, the other holding the back of her thigh which she had wrapped around his waist.

When Y/N glanced to the left, knowing that the round was over and that Pietro would retreat any second, she noticed Bucky watching them from the sidelines, using a black towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Pietro seemed to notice him looking, too, because soon he was leaning down and bringing his lips to Y/N’s ear, his hair covering her eyes so she could no longer see Bucky.

He remained silent for a second then whispered. “He’s going to leave in three… two… one”.

The door to the gym slammed shut.

Pietro pushed himself up, his grin once more appearing. Y/N’s wanted to roll her eyes at his confidence but she had to admit, Pietro was damn good at this. It was as if he had his sister’s powers and could read Bucky’s mind. Then it hit her.

“Wanda told you he’s into me, didn’t she?" 

Pietro looked like a deer in headlights.

He inhaled sharply, then sheepishly admitted, "yeah, okay, she did.”

“Which means you’re not as cunning as you think you are. Which means this could not end as well as you expect it to." 

He shrugged his shoulders. "To some extent, maybe.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes and then next thing Pietro knew her legs were around his neck and she was forcing him down onto the floor, swiftly moving to pin him down, face first on the mat. She held his hands behind his back.

“You’re an idiot,” she told him, and Pietro laughed in response, hissing when she pulled at his wrists.

“An idiot who’s helping you get laid.”

Their sparring session continued for another twenty minutes, followed by some cardio and lifting. Steve seemed to have followed Bucky because he was no where to be seen and Y/N didn’t see either of them before herself and Pietro left the compound to buy Wanda’s gift. 

Finding the perfect apology present took them the majority of the afternoon and after grabbing lunch together and arguing over whether or not Pietro’s plan would work, they returned home. They waved a quick greeting to all the other avengers who sat around the lounge before heading straight to Y/N’s room to wrap up the gift.

Of course, the process of them wrapping up the present resulted in another play fight over which colour wrapping paper and how big of a bow to use. This led to Y/N’s hair looking like a bird’s nest, her already baggy sweater falling off her shoulder and her sticky lipstick smudged across her cheek.

By the time they were finished, they both looked like a mess and Pietro had bits of tape stuck to his face like a child on Christmas morning.

He thanked her for the help before heading to his room and asked her to tell Wanda to find him.

Y/N didn’t bother fixing her appearance before heading to the lounge where everyone else was sitting around watching a rom-com. As asked, she told Wanda that Pietro wanted to see her and then headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. 

There, Bucky was already making coffee. He remained silent, leaning against the counter as Y/N grabbed a mug and dumped a tea bag into it, staring at the buzzing kettle between them. 

When she looked up, Bucky was studying her carefully.

“Your, uh… Lipstick is smudged,” he told her, pointing to his own mouth rather sheepishly. Y/N grabbed a paper towel and said nothing as she began to wipe it off. Bucky continued to look at her.

“No, you’re just making it worse,” he chuckled lightly and took the towel from her hand, stepping closer to help her. Y/N stayed unmoving as he held her chin lightly, wiping off the redness. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, hearing the kettle switch off.

“You need to tell your lover boy to be less sloppy,” Bucky noted, stepping back and throwing the tissue into the trash. Y/N cleared her throat before moving over to pour the boiling water into the two mugs.

She didn’t say anything to his previous words and when their drinks were made, they both headed back to the lounge. Bucky sat down between Nat and Steve and Y/N situated herself on the vacant love seat to the right of the TV. 

She tried to focus on the screen but she couldn’t help but feel Bucky’s eyes on the side of her face. However, every time she’d glance over at him, he’d look away as if nothing happened.

It wasn’t long before Wanda and Pietro returned, both smiling, obviously having made up. Wanda quickly situated herself on the pile of cushions and blankets on the floor and Pietro moved across the room to where Y/N sat. 

He made himself comfortable, his head in her lap, casually glancing over at Bucky to check if he was looking. Out of pure curiosity, Y/N looked over at him, too, and felt disappointment when she realised he wasn’t looking back at her. Instead, Buck’s eyes were glued to the screen, his arm casually thrown over Steve’s shoulder, his lips pursed.

Maybe he wasn’t jealous the way Pietro wanted him to be.

The movie continued and when it ended, Bruce got up to put on the sequel. This gave everyone an opportunity to go to the toilet, grab more snacks or chat for a while. It was then Pietro rolled over onto his stomach and looked up at Y/N, almost as if he knew she wanted to say something.

“I don’t think he’s all that bothered. Maybe he’s just not a fan of PDA in general,” Y/N whispered to him but Pietro only rolled his eyes. 

He remained silent as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, threw his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her legs over his lap. Y/N didn’t say anything but she could already feel Wanda and Tony eyeing them curiously from across the room; and although she wanted to explain to them there was nothing going on between her and Pietro, she remained quiet.

The movie began and the lights were switched off, the late hour resulting in a cozy dark room. It was getting kind of chilly, courtesy of Tony’s inability to sit in a room without the windows open, so Y/N didn’t actually mind having Pietro to cuddle. In fact, when his hand began slowly stroking her calf, she wiggled even closer and nuzzled her face into his chest. 

Suddenly, Tony spoke up.

“So, uh, am I the only one who’s confused about what’s going on?”

Y/N lifted her head and looked over at him to see what he was talking about. Upon realising he was already staring back at her with a confused frown, it only took her a second to figure out what the hell he meant. 

“Since when are you two a thing?” Tony continued, chuckling a little. “Yesterday I heard you two calling each other names and now here you are.” He waved his hand in their direction rather dramatically. “Doesn’t anyone else find it weird?”

Natasha then decided to pipe in. “Yeah, I mean, I’m a little confused myself. I thought you liked that other guy.” By other guy Natasha clearly meant Bucky, having been the person who listened to Y/N ramble about her crush day and night.

“What other guy?” Bucky asked, looking from Nat to Y/N, but both of them only shrugged, not wanting to give it away.

“Guys, that’s enough. Let them be,” Steve decided to interfere, not liking the way in which this conversation was heading. He wasn’t very fond of the rest of the group holding this intervention. 

“Steve, stop pretending to not care. You were just as confused as everyone else after what happened in the gym today,” Bucky announced, and the rest of the group looked at each other, almost as if waiting for someone to elaborate. No one did. 

“So,” Tony once again spoke up. “Dare to enlighten us about the situation?” He eyed Y/N and Pietro again. Y/N was seconds away from telling everyone the whole truth. However, before she even managed to open her mouth, Pietro was already speaking.

“I don’t know. We’re just sorta… hanging out, I guess,” he tried to seem casual.

Bucky scoffed, looking at Pietro as if he had lost his mind.

“Hanging out? Please, cut the bullshit." 

At this point, the whole room was holding its breath.

"You damn well know I like her and you’ve been rubbing your new relationship in my face all day. But let me tell you one thing,” he turned to Y/N. “Whatever it is you two have, it won’t last longer than a week.”

Y/N remained silent for a moment, and so did everyone else, not wanting to interfere. Even Steve seemed to have locked his mouth with an imaginary key and kept his preaching to himself for once. Then, after several seconds, Y/N finally responded timidly.

“Truth be told, it wasn’t gonna last more than two days.”

“What?” Bucky’s brows knitted together into a confused frown.

Y/N inhaled sharply and groaned at his stupidity. She pushed herself up from the sofa. Uncertain, Bucky stood up, too.

“I’ve been hinting that I like you for months! Who do you think this other guy Natasha mentioned was, huh? It was you, you absolute dumb ass! I’m not into Pietro for God’s sake!”

Sam began laughing but Wanda clamped her hand over his mouth.

“Wait, what?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Bucky’s stupidity and Steve got up, placing a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“I think what she means, Buck, is that her and Pietro were trying to make you jealous,” he explained, but Bucky only looked more confused than before.

“What?”

He simply couldn’t get any slower.

And so, not seeing any different way of going about this, Y/N breathed in and began trudging in his direction. Afraid Y/N was on her way to smack him for being silly, Bucky took a step back and fell back onto the sofa. His eyes displayed utmost confusion as Y/N climbed onto his lap with her legs on either side of him, grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him. 

Right there. In front of the whole team.

A series of cheers, shouts and whistles followed. Bucky’s surprise melted away and soon he was wrapping his arms around Y/N’s middle, pulling her closer and kissing her back. It didn’t last long, but the kiss was pleasant, and when Y/N retreated, she realised everyone was still looking at her.

Catching Bucky’s gaze, she smiled sheepishly and knew that he finally understood what she meant.

“Does that explain it?” She murmured, and Bucky nodded, lips swollen and gaze blazing. 

Y/N sighed in relief and when she turned her head to look at the rest of the team, Pietro was cracking up at the other end of the room. He stood up, brushed off his jeans and said:

“You owe me one, Y/N.”

She smiled, turning her gaze back to Buck when the brunette finally spoke up. “As do I.”

Night Drive

Summary: In which you help Bucky combat a sleepless night by going on a night drive.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,366

A/N: Oh hey, it’s me. I guess I’m back.

Originally posted by krisletang

The screaming starts late that night. Or maybe it starts early that morning; it’s too dark outside your window to be sure of the time.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes is easier said than done. Your slumber had been a deep one, as the fatigue from two sleepless nights in a row had caught up to you. Once your head hit the pillow, you were convinced nothing could possibly wake you up.

Nothing except the sound of Bucky’s screams in the room down the hall from yours.

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Through the Years (Part 8)

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

Word Count: 2,328

“Through the Years” Masterlist

A/N: Enjoy, guys! <3

Originally posted by dailyevanstan


Steve was wiping a piece of croissant from his lips as you asked after Bucky’s letters. You gnawed on your bottom lip, took a deep breath, and mustered up all the courage you had.

“Steve?”

He hummed, looking up at you through his lashes.

You looked down, not being able to keep eye contact. Steve’s brow furrowed, he stopped chewing, leaning forward.

“What?”

You shook your head, taking in a shaky breath. “I—I was just wondering if you…” You paused, looked up and then back to your plate again. “Do you still have Bucky’s letters?”

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dating peter parker would include...

Dating ((Tom Holland)) Peter Parker Would Include… || Peter Parker x Reader

a/n: not like my usual imagines but i thought this would be fun! :-) also this is pretty dumb but i enjoy it!! SORRY THIS WAS LONG BUT I HAD FUN and i didn’t want to leave too long of a break before the next imagine


  • before you were dating though peter would’ve been so scared to even approach you tbh
    • “there she is, go talk to her! hey (Y/N)!”
    • “oH MY GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LITTLE–oh hi (Y/N)!”
  • and then, when pete finally got the balls to ask you out, he would almost cry out of happiness when you said yes
  • like when you say yes, peter is already waiting for rejection, so he flips his shit
  • he would also be so awkward while asking it, fiddling with his sleeves
    • “hey (Y/N), I was wondering if…I dunno maybe…if…you would…”
    • “are you okay peter? Is there something you want to say??”
    • “will you go out with me?!?”
    • “yes!!”
    • (internally) “HOLY SHIT FUCKING FUCK YESSSSS!!!! HELL YEAH!!!”
    • (externally) “ok cool, yeah see you tonight (Y/N)”
  • then when it’s time for the date peter takes you out to dinner bc he’s classy
  • he’ll take you somewhere expensive and nice because he needs to impress
  • peter sHOWING UP IN A SUIT!! AND STARING AT YOU BC YOU’RE GORGEOUS
    • “hey peter!! you look great!!”
    • he just stutters and is like “yeah..you look great too..damn”
  • then the date goes perfectly and leads to loads of other dates
  • and he’s super respectful and treats yOU RIGHT!! GET YOU A MAN LIKE THAT!!
  • when he asks you to be his girlfriend he’s just as nervous as asking you out
    • “hey (Y/N)…”
    • “what’s wrong peter??”
    • “will you be my girlfriend?”
    • “yes!!”
  • and when you guys are official he still asks for your permission to do things
    • “can i kiss you?”
    • “oh my god of course you can we’re dATING”
  • whenever you’re insecure about whatever your man is THERE
    • “i swear, you are the most amazing person i’ve ever met”
  • and he tells you that he’s spiderman after you’ve been dating for about 2 months
  • you (understandably) freak the fuck out for his safety and general well being
  • him assuring you that he’ll be safe, and that because of you he’ll be even more careful because if he gets hurt you’ll have to date someone that’s not him
  • which is “unjust” and “practically a crime”
  • also peter is always so ecstatic when you do literally anything
    • “yes babe! good job!!”
    • “babe all i did was finish this worksheet wtf”
  • also that boy has a fucking great body is all i’m sayin
  • and i’m just saying that y’all would have great sex
  • like kinky shit because peter deffo has a few kinks
  • not a daddy kink though he probably thinks that shit’s weird but deffo a hair pulling kink
  • also can we talk about hOW HIS AUNT LOVES YOU
  • she literally was so happy for both of you that you guys are dating
  • after she met you the first time she was just smiling
    • “so may what did you think?”
    • “SHE WAS SO CUTE PETE I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!”
  • peter always going to may for advice too
  • him saying the first “i love you” on accident
  • like you two are just on his couch eating pizza and he just says it
    • “god, i love you”
    • “what??”
    • “I mean…you know what? I really do love you.”
    • “I love you too Peter”
  • also peter isn’t big on pda but you love showing him off (who wouldn’t)
  • whenever you initiate pda, peter always holds your hand or kisses you back
  • not fighting that often but when you do it’s BAD
  • and you both end up crying tbh because that’s how much you love each other
  • always making up though
  • being the school’s lowkey/chill/cutest couple
  • geeking thE FUCK OUT TOGETHER BECAUSE YOU’RE NERDS
  • and sometimes being fake excited to make peter happy
  • just making each other happy
  • loving each other unconditionally

also if u like this pls tap that little heart over there bc it really motivates me to write more and i appreciate every single one of you and if you ever have an issue (spelling/grammar or even the concept) just dm me!

7

Sterek AU: After the death of Claudia magic becomes a taboo in the Stilinski house hold. Everytime Stiles wants to show his dad his magic, to help his dad with his magic John lashes out. Not knowing what to do with the gift that he got from his mother, Stiles represses his magic - doing nearly unrepairable damage to himself.

Years later Derek returns to Beacon Hills to find that the Alpha that killed his sister is far from the most dangerous thing in town.

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Say That Again

Summary: Soulmate AU. Everyone hears a key word or phrase in their head from their soulmate, something only heard in person when the moment is right.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,543

Warnings: language, self-consciousness, fluff, that’s basically it

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely wonderful talented @bladebarnes’ 2k Celebration Challenge. My prompt was 35. quote: “Say that again.” I saw Baby Driver recently and couldn’t get the diner thing out of my head.

Originally posted by coporolight

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smile ✦ peter parker

summary : as the adopted daughter of none other than tony stark, you have a myriad of responsibilities. babysitting peter parker probably wasn’t supposed to be one of them. not that you’re complaining.

word count : 4.7k (also known as the longest thing I’ve ever written)

author’s note : ur adopted b/c not everyone is white and i don’t want anyone to feel excluded from reading this due to the fact tony is white (and yes ik there are interracial couples i just want everyone to feel included i want to make sure whoever wants to read this can without feeling weird about it b/c i know it is something that bothers people in the fanfic community okay bye enjoy my loves.)

   Tony Stark was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was the billionaire, he was the genius, the philanthropist, and the notorious playboy in his younger years. Most notably, however, was that he was Iron Man. He was marveled at by the entire world, him and the group of heroes that stood beside him; the Avengers, as they called themselves. To you, however, he was your father. 

   A terribly overprotective one, at that. 

  Of course, this was only to be expected of a father, even a foster one, but the lengths the man went to in order to keep his only daughter out of whatever he deemed trouble were rather extensive. You rarely ever left the Avengers tower, and if you did you were accompanied by a team of people you could only describe as rip off Secret Service men. Sometimes, Natasha would replace them, or Steve, but that was a rare occurrence. You were homeschooled by the best tutors his money could pay for- this particular move was less about refining your education and more about keeping you away from any boy in the five boroughs. 

   You chose to spend majority of your time reading in your room and training, always wary of anyone who approached you about being a friend. Your surname meant everything to people, especially the girls that wandered around Manhattan desperate to become the bestie of the daughter of the richest man in New York. You loved your dad with all your heart, but the stigma that ran with the Stark name would never stop irritating you. 

   That, and the impromptu plans he threw at you on a regular basis. 

   “Miss Stark, your father is requesting access to your room. He knows you hate it when he barges in.” Vision drifted into your room without warning, making you jump. You yanked your earbuds out of your ears, giving him a look. 

   “I hate when anyone barges in, Vision. That includes you, too.” You pushed your chair away from your desk, placing your pen on the desk and shutting your notebook. “Tell him he can come in if he lets me become an Avenger.” You raised your voice at this, knowing he would hear you. 

   “He says that he’ll consider it if you let him in.” 

   You raised your eyebrows. “Touché.” You motioned for the door to open, and your father walked into the room, immediately taking his pristinely polished shoes off and lying down on your bed. You stared at him.“Dad, it’s not cool to wear sunglasses inside. You look lame.” 

   Tony Stark rolled his eyes at you. “It’s called a look, sweetheart.” You laughed, pretending to nod in agreement. He placed his hands behind his head as you spun your chair back around to your desk. “What are you working on?” 

   “Something for Bruce,” you muttered, pen cap between your teeth as you continued to jot down important points from his numerous lab reports. You were going to have to hand in a full analysis of his findings for your end of term science paper, and he was more than willing to aid you. “Science report.” 

   “My daughter, beautiful and intelligent, my flesh and blood,” Tony declared proudly. 

   “Dad, I love you to the death, but I’m still not your biological kid,” you smiled all the same, though, and he knew behind the tough exterior you were happy to hear his expressions of admiration. 

    “Who needs a biological kid when I’ve got this great, wonderful adopted one right in front of me.” 

   Not looking up from your notebook, you said, “You’re really laying it on thick today. I’m all of those things, obviously, but I know you want something. So, what is it?” You paused, then said, “Thank you, by the way.” 

   “You sure we’re not related?” He sat back up, clasping his hands together. “What do you say about Germany?” 

   “Nice enough place I guess, interesting history, why?” 

   “I kind of need you to go there for two weeks with me.” 

   With a groan, you dropped your pen and held your face in your hands. “Another surprise trip? Dad, I have school. I have homework! Do you see this?” You held up the thick stack of reports from Banner’s lab, waving them around. “This is gonna be, like, my life’s work.” 

   Tony shook his head. “Kids these days and their homework. Seriously. When I was at school I would have taken any opportunity to shirk my responsibilities.” 

  “You did do that.”

    He waved his hand. “Technicalities. Anyway, as you know the Avengers have been disassembled. Sokovia Accords and all that bullshit. I assume you’ve been keeping up?” 

   “Hard not to.” It was true. Anything in the news was about the great split of the infamous team, Captain America vs Iron Man. It was impossible to turn on the television without hearing about it. And, considering you lived underneath the same roof as half of them, it was quite literally not an option to be ignorant to what was going on. 

   “Good,” he grinned proudly again. If there was one emotion that the man felt whenever he was around, it was proud. Nearly everything you did made him beam with pride, and if you had been placed into an actual high school, there was no doubt in his mind that the person at the top of every single class would be you. You excelled no matter the circumstances. “So, to sum up, there’s gonna be a big showdown in Germany. Western style, naturally. Guns blazing and everything.” 

   Your eyes lit up and you nearly flew out of your chair, rushing over to him. “Oh my god, are you finally gonna let me fight? You’ve seen my training, right? I’m getting so good. I’m like, practically Natasha level good. She’s been showing me that move where I can snap people’s necks with my thighs and-” 

   “First of all, your thighs are not going around anyone’s neck, so jot that down,” he interrupted. Your enthusiasm visibly deflated. “I need you to kind of watch over this kid who’s coming with us. He’s from Queens. You love Queens.” 

   “You’re making me babysit?” You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “C’mon, dad, I’m sixteen. That’s practically an adult. I think I should be allowed to fight this time. I’m Avenger worthy.” 

   “Practically an adult is not the same as literally an adult, as in over eighteen.” You groaned again. “Don’t call it babysitting, anyway. He’s your age. Well, he’s a few months younger, but that doesn’t matter. Just call it… hanging out with a good kid that’s fighting for your dear old dad and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble in Germany or annoy Happy too much.” He patted your knee, standing up. “We leave in the morning, kiddo, so pack up.” 

   “How come he gets to fight if he’s younger than I am?” 

   “’Cause he’s not my daughter. Goodnight, light of my life.” He kissed your forehead before leaving, giving you another encouraging smile.

   “Goodnight, pain my ass,” you grumbled as he left. He popped back in, a stern expression on his face. “If I watch your new protégée can I become an Avenger?” Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. Teenage girls were exhausting. 

   “We’ll talk about it.”


   You’re sitting at your breakfast table with suitcases piled next to you when Peter Parker strolls into your life with happiness in his every footstep because he is just so, so glad to be there. You’re spooning cereal into your mouth when he sits down directly across from you, a video camera cupped in his soft looking hands and the little red button clicked on, meaning that he is recording you. You place your spoon back into the bowl of milk that is dusted with cinnamon sugar from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch you’ve been eating for the past ten minutes. 

   “Do you mind?” 

   “Mind what?” He asked, peeking up from behind his camera. You gestured toward it, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. 

   “The camera. I’m kind of still in the middle of eating breakfast in my pajamas,” you leaned forward, switching it off. “You must be the Spider-Boy.” The chestnut haired boy feels a blush creeping up his neck and settling along his cheekbones when you say that. 

   “Oh, did Mr. Stark tell you that?” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Um, it’s Spider-Man, actually.” He mumbled the man part, knowing fully well that he didn’t look like much of a man in the eyes of anyone, his eyes casting down as he fidgeted with the strap on his camera. 

   “Oh good,” you nodded. You took another spoonful of cereal. “I like that better. Nicer ring to it.” You grabbed your box of sugary breakfast and pushed it toward him, an offering. 

   “Huh?” He was a bit dazed. He stared at the box in front of him and then realized he had been doing that for far too long of a time to be considered normal. “Oh, right, um, sure, thanks!” He opened the box and took a handful, shoving it in his mouth. You kept eating your cereal, silently staring at the bowl and willing yourself not to laugh at the boy in front of you. With all his nerves, he was still a bundle of energy and cheerfulness, and, well, let’s face it, he was sort of adorable. “So, you think my name’s cool?” He tried to sound suave, charming, as he said it, tried to smirk at you, but he stopped when he realized that he looked stupid.

   You gave him a half smile. “It’s pretty good.” His face positively lit up with happiness to be taken seriously, and you knew the feeling too well. You stuck out your hand. “Oh, forgot to introduce myself-” 

  “Y/N Stark, adopted daughter of Mr. Stark, probably the smartest girl in all of New York and, uh, correct if I’m wrong but… Black Widow’s best student as well as Bruce Banner’s apprentice.” 

   You gaped at him. The blush he had been sporting crept up to his ears and made his nose turn the shade of a strawberry. “Well, uh, yeah,” you said, flustered. “Should I creeped out or flattered?” 

   “Flattered, please.” The genuine worry in his eyes as he leaned forward made you laugh. He had an endearing personality. 

   “Flattered it is.” You watched the slow sigh of relief leave his mouth, his hands flying up the mess of hair atop his head and fixing it distractedly. Your dad walked into the room, and Peter practically fell out of his chair trying to stand up and seem presentable. Your slouch was indicative that you didn’t care much. He was just your dad. “Morning, pops,” you slid the box over his way.  

   He frowned at it.” Y/N, that stuff is crap. I don’t know why you eat it.” 

   “Wanda and I like it,” you said defensively, a slip of the tongue. You knew your dad was going to get annoyed at the mention of the Scarlet Witch, who had evaded and ignored his attempts at keeping her powers under control. “It’s good. High quality. Right, Peter?” You whipped your head toward him. 

   He felt his heart give a little tug. He grabbed the box out of your hand and shoved more cereal in his mouth, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. Best stuff ever,” he said through a mouthful of it. Tony gave them an amused glance, picking up your two heaviest suitcases and beckoning you both to the landing strip. Peter swallowed his food. 

   He didn’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch that much. He was just thrilled that you knew his real name.


   Everything about this kid was infuriatingly dorky in the cutest way possible. You came to this conclusion as you boarded the jet with ease, sitting in your usual spot by the window and greeting Happy with your typical friendly smile and idle chitchat. Peter stumbled onto it with awe written across his features as he stared around the place, touching nearly everything much to Happy’s dismay. 

   “Haven’t you been on a plane before?” The man asked, growing irritated with the way the kid was filming everything. You saw Peter zoom in on Happy’s face and grinned out your window. 

   “Nope, never!” Peter exclaimed, his video camera still in front of him as he captured every detail of his trip. 

   “Well, sit down so we can take off,” Happy said gruffly, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and forcefully placing him into a seat. 

  Peter sat still for a moment, then hopped over to the seat next to you. He placed his camera in front of him on the tray table. “Y/N, smile for the camera. I’m recording.” You looked at him, then turned to the camera and gave it a deadpan stare. You even threw in a slow blink. “Good enough,” he shrugged. He kept it recording as he shifted in his seat so that his entire body was facing you, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow on your armrest. His gaze was sort of nice. “So, Miss Stark, I have a few questions.” 

   “Um, okay, shoot,” you closed your book that you had open on your lap. “I’m not that interesting, just so you know.” 

  “I think you’re interesting,” he assured you. You heard Happy let out a choked laugh at Peter’s flirting attempt, but it was just another thing you found sort of lovely. It was a genuine compliment. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”

   You’d been expecting the typical what’s it like being Tony’s daughter spiel, and you were pleased to get an actual question about yourself for once. “I like everything, I guess. I kind of love school, but I don’t go to a conventional school, so. Training is cool, I like that a lot.” 

   “You train with Black Widow, I have to ask- can you show me some moves? I need to refine my technique before the fight,” he explained.  

    “Do you wanna learn how to crush people with your thighs?”

   “Wow! Do you think I could? Could you teach me? That’s so cool,” he beamed, turning to the camera for a split second with an overexcited look. 

   You pursed your lips, staring out your window for a minute. You were up in the air by now, and there was long flight ahead of you. “Maybe. If my dad is okay with it. I have to check.” Peter looked confused, 

   “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

   “He’s, you know, really overprotective.” You put your first against the cheek, leaning the same way that Peter was. You sighed. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Which is fine, but I can’t even attempt to go make any because I have a whole freaking SWAT team on my ass the minute I step out of the tower because he’s so worried about my safety.” You let your head hit the window, your eyes rolling skyward. “And that makes no sense because-” 

   “You’re really strong and stuff. You can protect yourself,” Peter finished. 

    “I think you know me a little too well, Peter,” you said, poking him lightly in the arm. “But… yeah, exactly. I don’t really get to do anything fun. I don’t have adventures. Sure, reading is fun and studying is fun for me and training is great and I love hanging out with everyone in the tower but I’m still a teenager. No fun for me, though. My life is pretty boring, sorry if that makes your little video diary suck.” You stuck your tongue out at his camera.  

   “No worries,” he said, taking it off the tray table and turning it toward you. “Tell me every boring detail, Miss Stark.” 

   “As long as you stop calling me Miss Stark.” 

   “You’ve got a deal.” 

   It was a seven hour trip, and you both passed out by the three hour mark after Peter had pried every excruciating detail from your life out of you. You hated sleeping on airplanes, but your head was slumped against his shoulder and his arm was knocking against your own and his sweatshirt was as soft as pillow. You remembered the shy glance he had given you just before you knocked out on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight. He had a sweet smile. 


    Peter filmed absolutely everything. He filmed himself getting off the plane and then filmed you getting off the plane and nearly shoved the camera in Happy’s face until he threatened to break it and Peter backed off. He radiated enthusiasm. “Look at this, and this, and this, oh shit wow that’s so cool look at this! Oh man this is good stuff!”

   “Peter this is literally just the airport how am I supposed to take you around the actual city?!”

   “OH WOW Y/N have you seen this!” 

    “Yes, Peter!” 

     He zoomed in on your face, your devoid of emotion look appearing again. “Are you ever gonna smile for the camera?” He gave you a pout, doe eyes and all. You turned away. 

   “No. I’m supposed to be babysitting you, please be behave.” You touched your fingers to the bridge of your nose, dragging Peter to a couch. “Please sit. We’re getting the hotel reservations checked.” 

   “Do they juice boxes? I’m really thirsty.” He was just trying to make you laugh at this point, and annoying you was kind of funny for him. You let out an involuntary chuckle when he pretended to claw at his throat, throwing himself on the ground. 

   “I’ll make sure they have juice boxes for you, Petey. You’re such a seven year old, geez.” You pretended to gag. 

   Looking offended, Peter replied, “I’m actually twelve.” 

   Jokingly, you said, “You’re a twelve year old that’s going to get a punch in the face if you don’t settle down right now.” He stood up, directly in front of you with his light eyes and little grin, another feverish looking heat burning at his face. Nevertheless, he still said, “It’d be an honor to get beaten up by you.” 

  His voice, the sincerity he carried within it despite the ludicrous statement, made you feel those famed butterflies fluttering inside you. Maybe it was the way he looked into your eyes as he said it. Maybe it wasn’t. But something within you was starting to like Peter Parker, and you’d barely known him for twenty four hours. 

   Then again, it was hard to not like Peter. The kid was just so damn likable. 


   He had known it from the moment he first set his eyes upon you that day in the tower that he was a goner. If he had known it then, just from sitting down across from you with nothing to him but his lanky figure and a suit that resembled a onesie more than it did a costume fit for a hero such as he, he was sure of it now, a week and a half later. 

   Every day had been the same routine. He’d be up bright and early in the morning so you could help with him his training, teaching him how to utilize the suit your father had given him with ease rather than his usual tactic of jumping into everything blind. You’d been the one to help come up with nearly all of the web shooter combinations. He didn’t know all of them yet, or close to half of them, but he was progressing wonderfully. 

   After training, you’d give him the tour of your favorite places around Germany, close enough to where you’d both be able to get back to the hotel before dark. He filmed the both of you constantly, but you shied away from the cameras every time without fail. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t push. He just liked filming in general, and would accept you not smiling in any of his clips as long as you were still in there. 

   There was a beautiful sense of normalcy that came with hanging around Peter. You reveled in it. No one had ever made you laugh so hard with his ridiculous attempts at jokes or made you smile so much at his shy flirting skills that clearly needed to be revisited. 

   It was okay. You didn’t mind. And the fact that you didn’t tease him for it made him so, so happy. 

   Then, came the day of the fight. Peter had his camera out, he was dressed in his spidey suit, and you were standing there next to him dictating who he should and shouldn’t go after. 

   “Don’t go after Wanda ‘cause she could obliterate you in two seconds and Cap could crush you, too, but he won’t ‘cause he’s really nice like that. Bucky won’t care as much, though, so don’t do that- Ant-Man seems pretty cool and harmless but I don’t have as much intel on him and Peter if you get hurt you have to go hide somewhere-” 

   “I’m not gonna get hurt,” he said confidently. 

   You ignored him. “I’m gonna be in your earpiece, figuratively speaking, so I’ll hear everything you do and if you talk I’ll be able to hear you and you can hear me. So, just… keep me updated.” Peter took off his mask for a second, hair sticking up everywhere from the static. You leaned up, smoothing it back into place. Everything about him was soft. You wanted to curl up in it and stay there for as long as you could. 

   “I’ll be fine, Y/N, don’t worry,” Peter placed his hand on your shoulder. You felt your face heat up. 

   “I- I’m not worried.” You totally were. “I know you’ll be fine.” You didn’t want him getting hurt. “I just want you to be careful.” You didn’t want him to fight. 

   You could’ve sworn his face fell a  bit when you said you weren’t worried, but he squeezed your shoulder anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around him, your nose pressing against his neck as you took a deep breath. He stood there for a second without doing anything until he realized that if he didn’t hug you back, he’d be the dumbest person on the face of the Earth. You felt his surprisingly defined arms hug you back. 

   You didn’t look at him when you pulled away. You stared at the spider emblazoned on his chest, gave him a quick good luck, then departed from the room. You sat on your own hotel bed with a rapidly beating heart.

    The nerves were killing you. Ten more minutes. You opened your laptop and pulled up the system that would allow you to communicate across Team Stark. You were more focused on your dad and Peter. You tapped into your dad’s earpiece after placing the headset on. “Dad?” You spoke into the microphone. 

   “Hey, kiddo, everything okay?” 

   “Y-Yeah I just-” you took another breath. “Be safe. I love you.” 

   “I love you too, Y/N. Are you sure everything is okay over there?” 

   “Can you just make sure Peter gets out okay? If he gets hurt, bring him right back, please. That’s it.” Maybe it was a stupid request in someone else’s eyes, but you needed Peter to make it back in one piece. Tony Stark looked over at Peter Parker, crouching in his hiding spot and fumbling around with the gloves of his suit and gave the kid a knowing smile. Of course that was the one his  daughter fell for in the end. Perfectly fitting. 

   “I’ll make sure.” You knew your father couldn’t see the grateful smile on your face, the sigh of relief that fell past your lips when he spoke these words.

   Peter Parker, I swear if you make it out of this, I will smile like an idiot in every single one of your stupidly adorable video diary things. I swear. Just be safe.


 “Your black eye is awful,” you told him, dabbing at it with more cream. “Totally ruins your face.”

   “I think I look manly.” 

   “You think incorrectly.” You stepped back, your fingertips tilting his chin up so you could examine it further. “I think I got the worst of it. You did really well, Peter. Exceptionally well.” His face was glowing from your compliment. 

   “Can I get on that tape?” He asked excitedly, ducking under his hotel bed for his camera. You nodded, and he switched the camera on. He held out his arm so that you were both in frame. And you smiled. He forgot all about what you were supposed to say the moment that beautiful smile appeared there. “I- wow, Y/N.” 

   “What?’ 

    His stare was kind as it usually was. “You just-” he paused. “Your smile is really, really beautiful.” There was no way for you to turn away from the camera this time and you were left grinning like a lovestruck idiot at the boy in front of you, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” 

  You slept the entire plane ride the way you had the last time, curled up against Peter. This time, it was intentional. One of your arms was flung across his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulders, the sweatshirt he had came in now swaddling you cozily. There were two separate cars waiting for you. You stood in between them when the flight got off, the sleeves of his sweater hanging off your hands as you reached out to grab his. He felt you push a piece of paper into his hand. “You better call me, Peter Parker. I’ll be really upset if you don’t.” 

   He wrapped you suddenly in an embrace that lifted you off your feet just a little bit, his lips pressing against your temple. “I’ll call you every day.” 


   He kept true to his word. Every day without fail, your phone rang with a call from Peter, and you fell asleep on the phone with him more often than not. If you weren’t on the phone with him, you were texting him, and if you weren’t doing that, you wished that you were. The consistent communication was better than nothing, but regardless, you missed his presence. You missed the way you felt walking next to him as he explained why chocolate ice cream was so clearly better than vanilla. You just missed him. 

   “Peter?” You held the phone to your ear, nestled in your blankets already even though it was barely nine o'clock. His sleepy voice mumbled out a yes? “Would it be stupid if I said that I missed you?” 

  She could practically hear his wide smile through the phone. “Of course not. I miss you, too. So much. Probably more than you miss me.” 

   “That’s so not true!” She scoffed. 

    “Wanna bet?” His tone was mischievous, no longer the hoarse, pretty voice of a boy just waking up from his nap. “Open your bedroom door.” 

    “Are you joking?” 

    You hung up the phone, throwing back your covers and not caring one bit that your hair was a dripping mess from your shower or that you were wearing  a terrible set of hello kitty pajamas that weren’t meant for anyone over the age of ten based on the size of the top. You nearly tackled him to the ground when you saw him standing in your doorway, a happy squeal escaping your lips. You were surprised he even got in, considering your dad wasn’t home, but you figured Vision had let him in. Vision always had a way of knowing. 

   “Have I ever told you that you have a really pretty smile?” Peter’s lips hovered over yours, almost hesitant. You took the initiative to kiss first, your hands delving into his silk-like hair. There was no point in waiting anymore. Your noses bumped together clumsily when he tilted his head back, admiring. You could feel your whole being light up when he gazed at you the way that he did, in that admiring, careful, Peter way of his. 

   “Careful, Spidey,” You warned, hands on his chest as you stared right back up at him. 

   “Careful of what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

   “You’re going to make me fall in love with you one of these days if you keep looking at me like that.” It was only the truth, and you were a honest person.

   “That’s sort of the plan,” he shrugged in a seemingly careless way, but he couldn’t hide it. He was an open book. An open book who loved you, and the way that you smiled at him when he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a web shooter, a strange glint in those brown eyes of his as he said, “You up for an adventure?” 

Highlights from Talks Machina (Episode 105)

Again, covering for @eponymous-rose​ while she continues her international vacation! Sorry for missing last week–things got crazy! Tonight’s guests: Darin de Paul, Taliesin sporting a lovely scarlet mohawk, and Travis. Brian starts a story that ends with him forging several signatures, and off we go.

  • The new campaign guide comes out soon! Taliesin is now worried about messing up the history of a character he invented.
  • Darin loves D&D as a long-form improv exercise and is happy he was able to get moments with each of the cast members.
  • Right after college, Darin was an apprentice at the Burt Reynolds Theater in Florida (a year-long program for theater students). One of his co-apprentices was Matt’s mom, and Matt’s grandmother was the director’s assistant. Matt’s father was part of the writing room. During the run of Darin’s last show (Fiddler), a clarinet player said they were going to play D&D and invited Darin. Matt’s mother was also in the group; they were all new to the game, so they rolled on a table for names and played four sessions. Last year, Darin was hired by Blizzard to do various voices, which is where he and Matt became friends. Later, Matt realized his mom had a picture of herself with Darin de Paul, and discussion of that picture led to the conversation of their D&D game. It’s been 37 years since Sprigg’s original campaign.
  • Matt was worried about fitting Sprigg in until Darin mentioned he was a hermit. The hobgoblin TPK was canon! Sprigg, a chaotic evil illusionist thief, was the only one to survive; the last moment of that campaign had him fleeing on a cart with wolves chasing him, abandoning the rest of the party to their deaths. Travis and Taliesin ask if he really was chaotic evil; “Why do you think he was so interested in redemption, dear boy?”
  • The first episode Darin saw was the Trials of the Take episode when the carpet was destroyed. He’s wanted to be on the show ever since.
  • Symmetra’s voice actor, Anjali Bhimani, also plays D&D. My heart skips a few beats.
  • Vex and Percy eloped over the year break. Laura and Taliesin kept it secret out of pique at first (Taliesin doesn’t remember why they were piqued). He’s not surprised the others are annoyed.
  • Grog was extremely impressed by Sarenrae and hasn’t thought much about Kord giving him any boons.
  • Darin has been a fan of the show and watching for some time. Taliesin says he is the most prepared guest they’ve ever had.
  • Very few people were present at Vex & Percy’s wedding. They did not intend to ever bring it up on their own.
  • The plane of books is the worst possible plane for Grog. Only the plane of shopping would be worse.
  • As soon as Darin walked into the studio last Thursday, Travis immediately asked him if he was a god. Travis still thinks he might be.
  • Percy would rather have a thousand years with Vex than a thousand years with Ioun’s library.
  • Travis wants a “positive, upbeat resolution to all the drama that is a-hanging in the air.” Me too. Travis does not read the Player’s Handbook to help keep Grog dumb, so he never knows what’s going on.
  • Travis loves how prepared Darin was. He offered the Deck because he thought Darin was looking for something specific after Sprigg deflected the weaker offerings.
  • Darin loved the emotion in the room during the plane shift and the strong moment with Marisha in particular. He also likes the movie Gargoyles.
  • The hardest thing about playing Sprigg after so long was finding him again. Brian gets very sentimental about the long journey that brought Sprigg back to life, including Darin becoming friends and colleagues with Matt so many years later.
  • Darin will be back on the next episode and is visibly excited about it.
  • Darin used to read tons of D&D books (mentions Drizzt by name) and used to paint minis as a hobby. He still has some of the figures and wants to donate them to the show.
  • Darin’s wife was part of Taliesin’s parents’ circle, so he’s known her for a long time. Taliesin and Darin exchange memories of meeting Roddy McDowall, and Darin says part of Sprigg’s concept of memories being the most important came from a conversation he had with Roddy while Roddy was dying of cancer.
  • Percy’s current distrusting attitude towards the gods came directly from his interaction with the Raven Queen. However, he didn’t know there was a god of knowledge and has been “chewing on it a lot, and what it means to have faith in knowledge.” He sees the library as a testament to faith in humanity and the good works of life and how important memory is and is blown away by it. “Books have always been about finding meaning and this whole library thing has changed him.” Taliesin expected Percy to be much more resistant to Ioun and was surprised at how quickly the books sold him.
  • Darin felt as the scenes progressed that his role was to “illuminate” CR as to where they were and what they could be. Taliesin and Percy both wondered if he was Scanlan from the future. Darin had the choice of being Scanlan’s dad, but declined.
  • Percy picked Vesper because her namesake was the last person he’d talked to in real life.
  • The only place Travis can think of worse for Grog is if the books were replaced with clothing & a For Sale sign. “Grog has a beatnik poet inside him waiting to get out.”
  • Darin’s advice to Keyleth was total improv. He almost cried when she touched his hand. He loves funny characters that can become sad and/or touching.
  • Marisha has no idea how to get Keyleth out of her emotional nosedive. Watching Marisha break character from Keyleth at the end of an episode is one of Taliesin’s favorite things because they’re such different people.
  • Percy would seek out the lifebooks for all his family & ancestry because he’s fascinated with legacy, and Whitestone is full of ghost stories. He had lots of stories he’d planned to give as part of the gnomes’ tour, and tells one about a woman forced into a marriage who slowly poisoned her husband over a number of years.
  • Sprigg feels he is what Scanlan might become. He did not expect to survive the episode.
  • If they were really in Ioun’s halls, Travis would love to see the books of his family and of JFK. Darin would like to see his father’s book. Darin also likes wearing suits, which is why he wears suits. He only wears t-shirts at the gym. (At one point Darin’s family also owned 20 horses???). He wishes his parents could see him now because they were so supportive when he was growing up.

Honor! Justice! After Dark, After Dark, After Dark!

  • If the challenge for Ioun involves any physical activity, Grog will fight Percy for it.
  • Bucket lists: Travis wants to swim with a great white shark. (Darin’s biggest fear is great white sharks.) Taliesin wants to travel to India. Darin wants to learn to tap dance, and casually drops that he used to dance with Cirque du Soleil.
  • Darin’s favorite color is black. His favorite season is winter.
  • There’s a video somewhere of Darin de Paul and Steve Blum pretending to be zombies and running towards the camera.
  • Travis and Darin do Reinhardt “impressions” by talking in high-pitched baby voices. Taliesin does a pretty decent actual impression! Darin likes that there’s heroes for every playstyle.
  • Darin hasn’t told Matt’s parents he brought back Sprigg. He also used to have a crush on Matt’s mom.
  • If Darin could pick any character from VM to play, he would play Scanlan. Brian teases the entire world by saying he would play “the character Pike’s in love with.”
  • Darin’s twitter flooded after last Thursday and he wishes he could respond to all of the kind messages.
  • Darin once shared floss with Gilbert Gottfried as part of an old bit.
  • Darin feels his whole history has led to this moment last Thursday where he had the chance to create a story with people he loved.
  • Laura read the Game of Thrones books as they came out, well before the show started. Brian just found the copy of the first book she lent him in 2010, which he still hasn’t read.
  • If Sprigg could fight any D&D monster, it would be a hobgoblin.

anonymous asked:

I know you probably have a lot of requests with the gods and monsters - but would you ever do an Ares based one?

Zeus’s mistress Io remains in her form of a cow, guarded by Hera’s servant Argus, and Hera is content.

She will remain in that form until her death. Hera hopes that lying with her husband was worth the sacrifice.

Zeus won’t speak to her, unwilling to admit the cow is actually his lover and ensure her death, and equally unwilling to stand against his wife to try and rescue her. Hera has him just where she wants him, and it can’t last, it never does, but she intends to enjoy it while it does.  

Then Artemis comes to her, gold and fierce. She never flinches away from her queen, staring her in the face as if she is nothing more than another of her huntresses. If Hera did not hate her for being her husband’s daughter, she thinks she might actually like the girl. “Io has a destiny,” she says, “you must let her go.”

“I don’t care for her destiny,” Hera says idly, “especially when that destiny involves getting with my husband’s child.”

“She is to give birth to a new line of kings,” Artemis hisses, “to be the wife of a death god, to be mother goddess of a whole new people. She is not meant for us. You must let her go.”

“I am Hera,” she says, “I am Queen. I must do nothing.”

Artemis growls, hand twitching for her bow, but Hera only raises an eyebrow. Let the girl try. There are few that can stand against her, and the huntress is not among them. Artemis lets out a low breath and says, “Do it, my queen, and I will grant you what it is you most desire.”

“Some peace and quiet?” Hera asks.

“A child,” she answers. “Let Io go, let her fulfill her destiny as a goddess of the Black Land of the Nile. If you do that, I, the patron goddess of childbirth, will personally use every ounce of power I possess to ensure you conceive and deliver a child of Zeus.”

Hera’s eyes narrow, “Neither my power nor his has ever been able to achieve this. What makes you think you are any different?”

“We all have our domains,” she says, “just as you cannot command the sea, just as your husband has no power over the art of weaving, so can I ensure a healthy child when you could not.”

She taps her fingers against her throne. They call her a mother goddess, though she’s raised no children. Hephaestus may be her precious son, but he doesn’t know that it was not her that threw him from Olympus. Very few people know that. And she didn’t raise him regardless, that honor belongs to Hecate.

A child, of her and Zeus. A child she can raise.

“I accept,” she announces. “You may take her, and Zeus may fulfill her destiny.” She leans forward, brings the oppressive weight of her power to the fore and lowers the pressure of the air until Artemis is left shivering. “Know this, Patron Goddess of Childbirth. If Io births a son of Zeus before I do, I will travel to the Black Land of the Nile and slay her and her children with my own two hands. Not even Hades will be able to put her back together again.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Artemis says, unable to keep her teeth from chattering.

~

Hera is true to her word. She allows Hermes to think he’s tricked Argus and to steal Io away. She pretends to be outraged at the audacity, at the pure white cow traveling to the sands of the Nile.

Artemis is true to her word. Hera lies with Zeus, like she has so many times before, and a child grows inside of her. One day she stands before her husband and brings his hand to the swell of her stomach, “This is your child.”

Something almost like happiness steals across his face. She forgets, sometimes, that they hate each other only as much as they love each other. After so much time together, many would think it would be one or the other. They simply opted for both.

Artemis is there during the birth, her easy confidence more comforting then Hera will ever admit. Delivering Hephaestus was easy compared to this. She screams and cries and Hestia’s hands on her shoulders are all that keeps her from collapsing and begging someone to just cut the child from her. She doesn’t think she can die in childbirth, not with Artemis between her legs. She wishes she’d thought to ask before this began.

But she does not die. Her son is born, just as healthy and beautiful as Hephaestus was. “Well done,” Artemis says softly, placing the squirming child into her arms.

Zeus touches her hair and kisses his son’s forehead. “We shall call him Ares.”

“Very well,” she agrees, so tired her eyes struggle to stay open.

She hands her son to Hestia, and finally allows sleep to take her.

~

Ares grows into the spitting image of his father. Same copper-red skin, same silky black hair. Her husband keeps it short, but her son lets his grow long. The minutes Hera spends every morning brushing his hair are among her favorite.

He has an eager smile and a soft heart. Hera doesn’t know where he got it, since it’s certainly not from her or Zeus. Demeter tolerates his bumbling after her, though any time Kore attempts to meet her cousin Demeter’s temper frays. Poseidon allows Ares to explore the depths of the sea with a minor sea god acting as his guide. Apollo plays for him, and Artemis teaches him to hunt. Zeus’s lightning doesn’t burn his son, and when storms rage he takes Ares to the top of Olympus and teaches him to throw lightning bolts.

Hera selfishly does not allow Ares to go to the underworld. She knows he would be safe there, that Hades would protect him as he protected Hephaestus, but that’s precisely why she won’t allow it. They got to raise one of her sons already. It pains her to share Ares with them now.

He is happy, and kind, kinder than anyone would expect a child of her womb to be.

“He must choose a domain,” Zeus rumbles, watching Ares shoot arrows with perfect accuracy.

“He is a child still,” Hera says, “let him remain so for a little longer.”

“If he does not choose a domain,” Zeus warns, “one will choose him. We are gods. We must be gods of something.”

She flickers her gaze at him, and he scoots an inch away from her. “He is a child, and for now a child he will remain. We are not Demeter. We shall not thrust the responsibilities and power of a deity on a child who is not prepared for it.”

Zeus disapproves, but says nothing more.

Her son will be the god of something patient, something soft. The god of lost children, of heartbroken suitors, of forgiveness. Something where his gentle heart will aid him instead of hurt him.

She traded her happiness for power. She doesn’t regret it. But Ares doesn’t need to do the same – she’s the most powerful goddess that still walks the earth. He’s her son, and he’ll want for nothing she can provide.

~

Ares is almost fully grown, long hair reaching his hips even braided, and the strength of his limbs is such that he can keep up with Artemis on her most vigorous of hunts, that he can throw his father’s lightning bolts halfway across the world.

He’s been to every place, and met every god of the earth, sea, and sky.

Except for one.

 It’s not hard to find the volcano. He’s strong enough and old enough to take care of himself, and his mother does not worry when he says he’s going to the earth. But he did not tell her where, precisely, on the earth he was going.

He has strong legs.  It’s easy for him to climb to the top of the volcano. He’s almost made it there when something grabs his shoulders, stilling him. He turns, and stares into a single large eye. “What are you doing?” the cyclopes growls.

“I’m looking for Hephaestus,” he says, “He’s my brother.”

“My master has many brothers,” the cyclopes says.

Ares shakes his head. He is not the product of his father’s fling with a sprite or mortal. “I am Ares, son of Zeus and Hera. Just as Hephaestus is. I came here to meet my brother.” The cyclopes hesitates. He asks, “What’s your name?”

“Brontes,” he answers, surprised.

“Brontes,” he smiles, “I just want to meet him. I’ve never met him before. I won’t linger.”

There’s a moment where Brontes looks conflicted, and Ares tries to look as unassuming as possible. “Fine,” he huffs, “but don’t get angry at me if he dips you in lava.”

“That would be fun,” he says brightly. Lightning doesn’t burn him. So far the only thing hot enough to cause him pain is Hestia’s fire. He probably could go swimming in lava.

Brontes looks at him as if he’s slightly unhinged. He just keeps smiling.

~

There are more cyclopes underneath, and bright glittering machines that Ares can’t even begin to wrap his mind around. “Who are you?” someone demands, and a hand grabs his wrist and yanks him away from a boiling vat of lava that he’d been peering into.

He looks up at a man taller and broader than he is. He has skin almost as dark as the obsidian of his volcano, but lighter eyes. They are the color of dark amber, of molasses. “We have the same eyes,” he says happily.

Hephaestus releases him instantly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” he asks, “The mortals talk of you. No one else will. But you’re my brother, right?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, “Does Zeus know where you are?”

He shrugs, taking a step closer. His brother takes a step back. He wonders if he’ll have to treat Hephaestus like a spooked horse.  “Father doesn’t keep track of where I am. Mom know I’m on earth.” Hephaestus flinches, small enough that he almost doesn’t notice. “We have her eyes, you know.”

He can’t stop starring at Hephaestus’s skin. They do not work like mortals – Demeter, Hestia, Zeus, and Hera are all different shades despite coming from the same parents. But – Ares looks so much like his father. Kore looks like Demeter. Yet Hephaestus looks nothing like their father. He can see their mother in him, in the eyes and shape of his jaw, even in how angry he is right now. He looks like Hera does when she’s about to lose her temper, lips pressed into a thin line and the careful stillness of his shoulders.

“I wasn’t trying to make you angry,” he says plaintively, “I only wanted to say hello.”

Unlike their mother, Hephaestus lets out a deep breath and seemingly all of his anger along with it. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

Hephaestus kicks him lightly in the shin, the pretty gold and copper of his metal legs catching his eye. “You have legs, and I do not. Hera did not throw you from Mount Olympus as she threw me.”

Ares looks hard at his brother’s face. The stories say his mother threw her son away for being ugly, but he seems just as handsome as any other god Ares has seen. His features are strong and chiseled, and he supposes that could have looked unattractive on a baby, but –

– his mother loves him. Hera loves him with a ferocity only matched by her temper, she loves him at his most mischievous and irritable, loves him when a stray thunderbolt sets Demeter’s hair on end, loves him when even Artemis and Apollo have grown tired of his antics, loves him when Athena can tolerate no more of his questions. He is her son, and so her love comes without conditions.

He doesn’t think Hera would have loved his brother any less just because of how he looked.

He also knows that if he tries to say that, it’s likely Hephaestus will push him into a lava pit.

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he says, “If you don’t want us to be brothers, can’t we at least be friends?”

Hephaestus’s face softens. He looks like their mother then too.  He crosses his arms, “You can’t tell your parents.”

Our parents, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Obviously. Where did you get so many cyclopes?”

The last remnants of his brother’s stern façade shatters as he throws back his head and laughs.

~

Ares is very near maturity, more adult than child, and his father constantly pressures him to choose a domain. He usually quiets with one sharp glance from his wife, but the fact remains that it is time for Ares to take his place among the gods of the pantheon, to have temples in his name and worshipers like a proper deity.

He doesn’t really want any of that.  He wants to continue hunting with Artemis, learning with Athena, building with Hephaestus.

His brother lets him help out in his workshop sometimes, if he’s very careful and does exactly as he’s told. Otherwise he sits on a table, legs swinging, and watches his brother work and tells him about what he does in the time in-between visits. He talks about their mother enough that Hephaestus doesn’t flinch at her every mention, which Ares can only consider an improvement. Sometimes Brontes will stand beside him and they’ll eat sweet buns together.

Unfortunately, all things, good and bad, must come to an end.

~

There are two giants, Otus and Ephialtes, who grow tired of hearing of the golden boy of Olympus, who grow jealous of his kindness and his beauty.

These two giants sneak onto Mount Olympus in the middle of the night, sneak into Ares’s room, and kidnap him. They’re not stupid enough to attempt to kill him. Instead, they stuff him into an urn, and seal him inside. Ares rages and fights, uses every trick he can think of to break out his prison, but none of them work.

Stuck at the bottom of the urn and seething, he can’t help but think that if he’d listened to his father and chosen a dominion he might be strong enough to free himself. But he didn’t, so he can’t, and instead he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Days turn to weeks turn to months. He knows they’re looking for him. He knows his mother will tear apart the whole universe attempting to find him if nothing else. But – what if they can’t? What if he’s stuck in this urn for the rest of eternity?

In his darkest moments, his sorrow turns to rage. He is a god, son of Hera and Zeus, how dare they do this to him?

Then, one day, the urn opens.

Hermes peers down into it, then his face splits into a grin. “We’ve been looking for you!” He reaches down and hauls Ares out, and for a moment all he can do is blink at the glaring sun. Then his vision clears, and he sees they’re in the midst of a battle. The giants are fighting against the gods, against his parents, against the twins, against his brother. It’s bloody carnage, but – he can’t help but feel touched that all these people came looking for him. “Almost everyone offered to help find you,” he says, “but Hera didn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves trying to sneak into their territory.”

No sooner has Hermes finished speaking than a giant barrels into his mother with sickening snap. Her shoulder slopes at a grotesque angle, but it hardly even slows her down.

“I have to help,” he says, a desperate urgency filling him. They came to help him, and now they’re getting hurt. That’s never something he’d wanted.

“Ares, wait!” Hermes calls out as he goes hurtling toward the battle. He doesn’t wait. Fighting on the ground can only do so much good, they’re strong but they’re outnumbered one hundred to one. He darts to Artemis, twisting around the bodies she’s throwing over her shoulder. “I need your bow!”

“Ares!” she says joyously, then, “What?”

“Trust me,” he says, “give me your bow.” A giant comes running towards them. Artemis flips him over her shoulder while continuing to stare at him in confusion. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so worried. “Artemis, please!”

She hands over her bow. She moves to give him her quiver of arrows as well, but he’s already moving away from her. Next it’s to his father, who’s hurtling lightning bolts towards the swarm of giants crowding him. They’re deadly, but only so effective at close-range. He grabs a sizzling lightning bolt right from Zeus’s hand, the only being on the planet who could do that and survive, and keeps running. “Get clear!” he calls out over his shoulder. “Everyone move!”

He runs up past Hermes, needing to get to high ground for this to work. “Get everyone off the battlefield,” he says to Hermes. “Now.”

Hermes pulls a face, but by the time he makes it to the top of the mountain, the gods have shaken off most of the giants, are far enough away that he doesn’t have to worry.

He can do this. He’s Ares, the son of Hera and Zeus. He’s been trained in archery by the great huntress herself. He breaths in, and strings his father’s lightning bolt like an arrow. He pulls it back, breaths out, and lets the lightning bolt fly.

It lands in the middle of the battlefield full of confused giants. With a great clap of thunder and a burst of light, they’re all gone.

All that remains of the traitorous giants is a crater.

The gods are approaching him, his mother at a limping gait that makes his chest ache. Zeus gets to him first, grin stretched wide as he grabs him by both his shoulders. “My boy! That was magnificent!”

“Thanks,” he says. The smell of charred flesh is in the air, and it makes his stomach roll.

They kidnapped him. They stuffed him in an urn for over a year. They hurt his mom.

That doesn’t mean he enjoyed it. He never wants to do anything like that ever again.

“This was destiny,” his father says enthusiastically, and Ares has no idea what he’s talking about. “This is what you’re meant to do, son.”

He stares. He hopes it’s not.

The other gods are still at the bottom of the mountain. Artemis and Apollo each have one of his mother’s arms slung over their shoulders and are helping her up the mountain. Hermes and Hephaestus aren’t far behind.

He’s never seen his father look so proud of him. There’s a leaden pit in his stomach he can’t explain.

“In honor of my son’s great feat,” Zeus booms, his voice carrying across air, speaking with the voice of the king of the gods so his words become law, so they spread to every corner of the world, “I declare him Ares, God of War.”

Ares can’t breathe.

This isn’t what he wanted.


gods and monsters series, part xvii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

To be young

Title: To be young

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

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

Word count: 2,145

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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