what others heard

5

Shiro wonders if this is really worth it or not

A traveler stops to rest in a small village at the edge of a forest. All through the night, he hears rustling outside the inn, and the sound of mysterious creatures creeping among the trees.

The next morning, he asks the innkeeper about what he heard. The other man nods sagely. “Ah yes, the wood is dark and mysterious. The village has many stories, but to find the truth, you’ll have to ask the trees themselves.”

So the curious traveler packs some bread from the inn with his belongings and starts off into the forest. The ground slopes down, down, and the underbrush thins out but the canopy gets denser. The darkness is soothing like deep water. Here, there is no rustling–just a heavy silence.

The traveler spends the first night nestled in the roots of an enormous oak tree, and when he awakes, an acorn has sprouted into a robust sapling where it fell on his coat. His second night he spends in a ring of mushrooms that weave his dreams with light and song. His third night he crawls into a hollow log that smells sweet with decay and smoky with the memory of a long-ago fire.

The forest is strange and unnatural, but it does not seem threatening. The traveler speaks to the trees every day as he walks but they do not answer. Still, he knows that they listen. His path is laden with sweet fruit and herbs, for he runs out of bread quicker than he would like.

Finally, on his fourth day of walking, the traveler comes to a stump in the center of a large clearing. The earth around the stump is obscured by layer upon layer of dry, dead leaves, and the boughs overhead form a continuous ceiling. A hatchet sits embedded in the stump. As he approaches, the traveler sees the letters of a hundred languages engraved in winding script around the handle of the hatchet.

“What is this place?” the traveler asks, half to himself.

A soft voice emanates from the hatchet. “You seek the secrets of the wood, and here they lie. Ask what you will.”

So the traveler asks his questions. The hatchet weaves a story of enchantment and legacy, of the people who once lived among the trees and the people who now live alongside them, of the slow, even breathing of the forest and everything within it.

At the end of the hatchet’s tale, the traveler speaks up once more. “I was told that the trees themselves would tell me their story. Who are you, and why are you the one who holds these secrets?”

The hatchet chirps a little laugh. “As for why, that is too long a story for even me to tell. But who am I? I am the lore axe, and I speak for the trees.”

10

♥ D-14 until VIXX-OTPS’s fourth anniversary: 10 reasons why Ravi and Hyuk fans love them so much ♥

credits

STRANGE SENTENCE STARTERS —— for the creative writer in you. Send these in and see what your partner comes up with as a scenario!

*These are completely interchangeable, they’re just in categories to make it easier for all of y’all.

FOR AMIGOS;

  • “How many times are you going to do that, exactly?”
  • “You were right. As per usual.”
  • “Sometimes it’s hard to see the lines you’ve drawn until you’ve crossed them.”
  • “You’re surprised because you have a soft spot for hot blondes.”
  • “Is that – that’s a naked Scarlett Johansson on your fridge.”
  • “You can stay, but for no more than two nights.”
  • “Please don’t look in this drawer. Please.”
  • “I told you not to pick him up, he’s very sensitive.”
  • “Yes. I might have given you rabies. But in my defense, that’s ridiculous and I didn’t.”
  • “I’m sorry, my cell phone data coverage does not cover the bullshit zone you’re in.”
  • “Hey! Give me your pants. Quick, give me your pants.”
  • “No, I’m serious. Stop it right now or I won’t give you the last cookie.”
  • “You think I’m kidding. But I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”
  • “How much would a stripper cost and why so much?”
  • “I’m going to buy you a drink. Next week. On Thursday. When I get paid. Can you swing this one?”
  • “Hippos are hungry, hungry! And you are considerably larger than a small piece of lettuce!”
  • “When I was little, I used to be afraid of mummies. And now look at me. I love dead people!”
  • “I don’t even miss my ex-boyfriends/girlfriends, I just miss my glockenspiel.”
  • “It happens to everyone, you just sell your skirt for some coke.”
  • “Please do not pull your pants down in front of baby Jesus.”
  • “That’s not the phrasing you want to use.”
  • “Because nothing says heterosexuality like a gold sash.”
  • “Please don’t take it out on my boobs.”
  • “When it gets really windy I look like a bizarre combination of Marilyn Monroe and Cousin It.”
  • “We have to change our names and run away to Mexico. It’s the only way. Adios.”
  • “How much money do you have on you?”
  • “Please tell me that’s a raisin and not a tiny hamster shit you’re eating.”
  • “Life is a lot better when you put things on your head.”
  • “For someone who’s not very deep, I’m incredibly not shallow.”

FOR LOVERS;

  • “I need you to remind me what it feels like to love you.”
  • “I love you. What? No I don’t. Forget I said anything.”
  • “I need you to tickle my feet but like, sexually.”
  • “If we got married, would I have to take your last name? Or could we just make up a new one?”
  • “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
  • “I heard you say his/her name in your sleep last night. Want to explain or should I just leave?”
  • “I want to spend the night with you tonight. But I also want to sleep on your side. And without you on the bed. So technically I just want your bed.”
  • “Please don’t be proposing to me in an empty parking lot.”
  • “Stop saying you’re sorry, you stupid fucking broken record. It’s done.”
  • “I’m not jealous, I’m curious. About the things you were doing. With him/her. Without me.”
  • “Your mother’s looks could kill. Actually, are you sure they haven’t before?”
  • “If you’re breaking up with me tonight, can I at least eat first?”
  • “Stop sweating. It’s not attractive during sex, and it’s not attractive now.”
  • “Are you – are you checking me out? In the line for the confessional?”
  • “We have to go. I might have told your mom I’m pregnant. I don’t know why I said that. I’m not.”
  • “So what you’re saying it that you’re snorting sugar to get excited for sex.”
  • “My dog licks better than you do.”
  • “But through every stupid thing you do and say – and those are a lot, by the way – I love you.”
  • “I don’t care if you’re growing another head. I’ll talk to both of them. I love you.”
  • “And I’d take fifty years of not talking to you for just a day of doing so. I promise that’s a compliment.”
  • “I don’t want to hide this anymore. I’m not some dirty little secret, you American Reject.”
  • “This is a bit too dramatic for my taste, so can we skip it and have sex instead?”
  • “I don’t want you to think of me as your personal sex toy.”
  • “Thanks and all, but that makes me feel like a low-class escort, so.”
  • “A kiss in exchange for every nice thing you say about me. Deal?”
  • “Promise me you’re not like him/her. I need to hear it from your mouth. Promise me.”
  • “Look, I’ve had my heart broken before. I’m not ready to let you in just yet. Anywhere.”
  • “Don’t leave me here. Anywhere else, okay, but not here.”
  • “I wish I could say that was the worst sex I ever had, but I’ve had worse.”
  • “I just blew you. Could you look a little happier about it?”
  • “I’m attracted to shiny things, so if it looks like I’m staring at your chest, it’s because I am.”

FOR TEXTERS;

  • [text] This is upsetting my poop.
  • [text] Hey, are you up? If you’re not, can you wake up? I need some help.
  • [text] So it involves feces and large birds.
  • [text] She said that to you? Why?
  • [text] Please come back. I miss you.
  • [text] What are you good for if you’re not gonna bring me ice cream?
  • [text] Can you ignore that last text? It wasn’t meant for you. I’m sorry.
  • [text] …did you just send me a nude?
  • [text] FUCK OFF YOU ONE-EYED WHORE.
  • [text] I don’t know why I said that.
  • [text] Leave it to you to fuck the simplest of requests up.
  • [text] Do we have to go to their wedding? He’s only my first cousin.
  • [text] How much does ‘I love you’ mean to you?
  • [text] I am not stalking you. But you should do something about your bathroom, it’s gross.
  • [text] Please. I need this so badly.
  • [text] I trust you completely.
  • [text] I’m a genius. You’re a peasant. Everything makes sense again.
  • [text] Hey, buddy! Got like, five hundred bucks I can borrow? Times ten.
  • [text] She lost it. She completely lost it. She said her uterus was attacking her bone marrow.
  • [text] I will not get you donuts.
  • [text] Please? I love you.
  • [text] I think I’m gonna go to sleep now, but you keep thinking that.
  • [text] I can’t say this out loud. They might be listening.
  • [text] I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t think he’d duck when the ball came at him, I’m sorry.
  • [text] You’re cute.
  • [text] I just need you to understand how important you are to me.
  • [text] Fuck off.
  • [text] Okay. Guess we’ll leave it at that then.

Enjoying the view of a peaceful world.

Keep reading

10
Band kids do the weirdest things

So at every competition, during awards our captains have this dance that they do on the field while waiting. Its literally just air thrusting. And every time, at least one band joins in. We’ve gotten our whole band to do it. Its literally just a bunch of high schoolers air thrusting. Its a tradition at this point it’s been going on for years.

We had an old snowman prop from a show just sitting in the copy room. A tuba player entered the copy room and turned the lights off. Everyone heard him moaning, the lights were turned on and he’s jerking off frosty’ nose.


People printed a bunch of pictures of our band director out and hung them up all around the band room. No reason, just because.

Feel free to add more stories!

I want to talk a little about hearing aids today. I’m pretty sure most people know what those are, including how they work. There are analog and digital hearing aids. I’ve used both, and right now I’m using a digital one. Analog hearing aids basically just amplify the sounds they receive. There’s no tuning or anything, just raising the volume and hoping that you can HEAR THE THING.

Digital works a little differently. It does amplify the sound, but it also tries to filter out unnecessary sounds and things that can make it harder to focus on voices and hear what people are saying. There’s also the possibility of being able to toggle different settings so you can choose whether to have it set for a large auditorium where you need to hear the speaker or a loud party where you’re trying to focus on just the one person you’re having a conversation with.

Either way, hearing aids are expensive. And yet they’re also pretty necessary for HoH folks who don’t know sign language and/or are exclusively around people who hear and don’t do sign language. (Like me.)

But the thing with hearing aids is while they can be pretty fantastic, they are not a fix. They just help capture what your ears no longer can, but that doesn’t mean they capture what you want. And then there are a host of other things that can get in the way of that.

Mumbling, covering lips, whispering, yelling from a different area of the house… All things that while maybe you can kind of hear the voice, you can’t make out the words. And you’re expected to because that’s what hearing aids are for, right?

Once you have a hearing aid, that’s supposed to be the fix. That’s it, you can hear. But it doesn’t work like that. Raising the volume doesn’t necessarily mean you can understand; processing the auditory input you get is another adventure in itself.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve had someone in my family say “you got a new hearing aid - you should be able to hear me now!” Which, yes, maybe I have a new hearing aid, but it still doesn’t work like that? And maybe I can hear you, but understanding is something else. What’s more, there’s only so much I can do, and it’s probably more frustrating for me than it is for you.

What’s the point behind this post? Hearing aids aren’t the perfect fix, and it’s important to recognize that. Be patient and also recognize your speaking habits and how you communicate with other people.

Tomorrow I’ll cover cochlear implants, which are also amazing but not a fix either.

Source: Me and my trials with a hearing aid

anonymous asked:

(not an art request) What are your thoughts on Malachite? I particularly love her design and I think she's one of the cutest fusions but I dislike what she represents as a relationship. (I thought about asking you this because your text post about why you like Jasper was really insightful and well explained.)

HMMM this is quite a difficult question…

i absolutely LOVE malachite’s design and i think its rad as hell first off. the colors are gorgeous, her short fluffy hair, THOSE MENACING TEETH, the placement of the stripes and swirls on her body, all very good things. shes quite interesting to look at and watching her move and fight is fascinating

buuuut. yeah, ultimately what she represents is a hideous, unhealthy, and to be quite frank, abusive relationship. i know not everyone sees the relationship as abusive, and i respect their interpretation of it, but when i look at the situation it reads loud and clear as abuse to me. its been explicitly said numerous times that jasper was held against her will and tortured by lapis under the ocean for months in malachite. lapis herself even admits she was terrible to jasper and liked taking everything out on her.

the worst part to me is that jasper thinks she deserves the abuse. thats why she was trying to convince lapis to fuse with her again. she’s alone and desperate for any way to make up for her perceived failure on a planet she already has complicated feelings about after having failed her mission and being defeated by the crystal gems on multiple occasions. she needs to do SOMETHING to succeed and thus establish self-worth, and if that means hurting herself in the process she thinks its not only worth it, but well deserved as atonement for her previous failures. 

so tl;dr, i love malachites design and shes absolutely stunning to look at and watch move, but i hate everything she represents and the situation that she came about from. 

on a somewhat related note, SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP JASPER LOL help her realize shes worth so much more than she thinks she is!!! liiike maybe somebody who knows a little something about learning her self-worth and about helping and loving quartzes 

kixboxer  asked:

present participle

EDIT: THIS GOT REALLY LONG (why am i surprised) so i put in a cut

this is some sort of language fic where yuuri pretends not to know russian so victor can feel great about showing him around st. petersburg.at some point it’s just awkward to say something, plus victor seems so happy to constantly translate (and therefore prevent other people from trying to steal yuuri from him).

 there are a lot of exchanges where victor outright lies about the other person is saying and yuuri is just ???? but also he’s super into jealous!possessive!victor so they bang a lot. victor just thinks yuuri is turned on by him speaking russian (i mean he IS but it’s also other things.)

Keep reading

yet another unfriendly reminder that Gil Brodie and Suvi Anwar are both BROWN and GAY. they are homosexuals with brown and not white skin. their sexual and romantic interests lie exclusively in people of their own gender, and their skin is a medium brown color. they are a lesbian and a gay man of ambiguous ethnic heritage but definitely skintone that falls outside of the range of shades one would consider “white”. They are brown and gay. Gay and brown. Both at the same time. Not one or the other but both. Thank.

Imagine Woozi taking care of Hoshi when the latter is feeling sick.

Healing Hands (Part 2)

Ivar x Reader
Healing Hands: Part 2 of 2. 8,341 words.
Here’s Part 1 for anyone that missed it.
Warnings: A little angst, a lotta smut. I wouldn’t read this at work ;)
Wow guys, I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to finish this update! I really didn’t mean to keep you all waiting for so long but life kicked my ass a little bit this month. Thank you all so much for your support and all of your kind words, I honestly never expected such amazing feedback. I was so nervous writing for a new fandom but you all have just been so encouraging and so kind. I really hope that each and every one of you enjoys Part 2 and that it lives up to your expectations! Thank you again, everyone!
Tags: @skeletoresinthebasement @peculiarleah @ivartheboneme @theburningspirit  @splendor-e I’m sorry if I missed anyone!


The days that followed Ivar’s cruel rejection were some of the bitterest you’d ever known. You weren’t sure just what to expect from all those hours at the prince’s side but outright exclusion wasn’t something that had even crossed your mind. Everything seemed to be going so well. You and Ivar constantly lost track of time as you engaged in passionate conversations, talking about everything and nothing and whatever was left in-between. You knew Ivar well know, perhaps well enough to call him a friend and you had secretly hoped that he shared these feelings.

You had even started to wonder if Ivar was more than just a friend. Even before that final blissful evening, the chemistry between you both was undeniable. In all of your years of working with patients in all sorts of intimate situations, not one had responded to your touch like Ivar had. Not even the most flirtatious warrior would gasp and whimper in a way that only a lover would yet Ivar practically melted in your hands.

Then, there were the looks. He may have been a man of few words when it came to discussing anything emotional but disappointment was always noticeable in Ivar’s bright eyes whenever you bid him goodnight. Then every morning, that disappointment vanished again when you arrived and exchanged private, flirty stares that were completely missed by Ubbe.

There was no way of really telling where the shy smiles and tantalizing glances were heading but you were certain that they were heading somewhere. That was why Ivar’s rejection hurt even more. You tried to be rational by reminding yourself that you weren’t Ivar’s lover and he had no obligation to explain anything to you but rationality didn’t keep you warm on those cold, lonely nights. 

Keep reading

| Caught | Peter Parker

[permanent + peter parker tag] : @momosakaki-san 


Peter Parker was Spiderman.

Or rather, Spiderman was Peter Parker.

Well, same thing. 

You kept your nose buried in your book dutifully, keeping a focused eye on the boy sitting in front of you in class. 

Almost as if he had somehow sensed your stare, he jerked, turning his head slightly to survey the room. You nearly jolted but kept your cover, sweating as you returned your eyes to your book and pretended to read.

It was obvious, really.

Peter was seen as a nerd. And for a long time, you’d thought the same. You might have not been the closest friend to Peter, but he was in a numerous amount of your classes. That fact alone was enough that you could tell his tendencies by now, his tell tale ticks in verbal language, the way he fidgeted on his feet endlessly and bit his lip when he was nervous. Then one day, you stopped and looked. And all your previous misconceptions shattered.

Peter Parker was an anomaly.

Not to mention he was too inconspicuous.

Now there were many people in the school that did not stick out, washed away in the ocean of teenagers that walked the hallways. But Peter was too invisible. It was almost like he purposefully didn’t want the attention.

The moment you intentionally tried to notice him, you wondered why the hell he wasn’t more popular.

Number one: Peter was smart. Not just nerd smart, but almost prodigy smart. Perfect grades, stellar performance on the spot when asked. He went off into ramblings in chemistry class, often underneath his breath, but as you sat right behind him you often heard what others did not. The things you heard made you wonder why in the world he wasn’t two grades up.

Number two: he was kind. Now sure he had snark, but you could count on him to stop and help a crying child on the side of the road, or carry anyone who sprained their ankle in physical education when no one else wanted to.

Number three: talking about P.E, Peter was fit as hell. Maybe it was the baggy clothes that hid that from everyone’s sight, but the boy was built like a god. One Monday you’d been running late for class, and accidentally took a right for the hallway by the locker rooms instead of the hallway down corridor 1A. You groaned and went to turn around when you nearly choked in surprise at something in the corner of your eye.

Or rather, someone.

Peter was drying his hair with a towel, faced away from you, fumbling in his bag for something. Your eyes trailed from the wet hair sticking to his neck to his firm chest, down to pairs of abs decorating his stomach and even further leading down to a V line right above his jeans-  You swallowed, just as your mind went haywire and you made a beeline out of view before he could realize you were there.

Whose great idea was it to have the locker rooms not have any doors??

But you digress.

Point was, there was way more to Peter than you had thought. (Lets not even mention his unnatural strength, you’d once seen him accidentally shatter a test tube with his bare hands in chemistry, whistling as he threw the remains in the trash without anyone seeing.)

But the real reason you accused him of being the masked hero swinging round the rooftops of Queens, was that Peter, putting it simply, was a hell of a bad actor. He didn’t know the word subtle if you stapled it to his forehead.

You’d lost count of the amount of times Peter had raised his hand in class to ‘go to the bathroom’, leg tapping anxiously below his chair and looking like he wanted to jet. Some people had even dubbed him ‘Pissy Parker’ based on that fact that he could never ever stay in class for too long. Twenty minutes later Peter would come back, scolded by the teacher for taking so long but with a satisfied smile on his face, a bruise lining his jaw that had definitely not been there when he left and a bounce in his step.

Oh, and wouldn’t you guess, only seconds after that the class was buzzing with chatter when social media blew up about ‘Spiderman saving the day again at a bank heist!’ just moments before.

You were many things, but you were not an idiot.

Nevertheless, Peter Parker was Spiderman, and that was a fact. You’d had enough time to find more pieces of evidence that you were sure you weren’t just making it up.

Did you tell anyone?

No.

Why would you?

Honestly, it wasn’t your secret to tell. Peter and you didn’t even really know each other. The best interaction you’d had together was maybe that one time you’d tapped him on the shoulder to ask for a pen, or when your teacher had paired you two for a project the month before.

Other than that, you were practically strangers. Strangers that saw each other every day of their lives in the same class, but still strangers.

Such was high-school.

Thoughts of rewards and money came to your mind whenever you contemplated telling anyone, but you quickly shut that idea down every time. Peter was a good guy. He didn’t deserve that.

So you kept your mouth closed, and continued to live life like you didn’t know the identity of a literal superhero in your school.



“Miss?”

You paused your walk in response to the voice that had stopped you on your way home. 

“Yes?” You asked, itching to go. You’d left school late that day because of something your teacher had wanted to go over with you, and as a consequence it was late, the sun already beneath the horizon. Added to the darkness there were few people on the vacant streets and you really just wanted to get home.

The man looked back at you, scruff lining his jaw, hair in shambles and wearing raggedy clothes. 

Homeless, you thought. 

“Would you spare a penny?” 

You had to go home…

His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t drunk anything in days.

The guilt in your chest only grew till you groaned and reached into your jeans pocket for your wallet, offering him a tiny smile. “Sure.”

You were zipping it open when movement stirred in the corner of your eye. You suddenly realized you’d stopped to speak to the homeless man in front of an alley. Hungry eyes from within stared at the wallet in your hands, and you froze.

“Miss?”

“A-Ah, yes,” you put your wallet back, trying to act natural as you eyed the homeless man who probably wasn’t homeless at all. What homeless guy’s teeth were that white? “Actually I think I have to go. I’ll stop by tomorrow though.”

You stepped back but hit into a body. Pure panic rushed over you when a nasty chuckle blew breath over your ear and arms trapped your own to your sides.

“Where are ya’ going missie?”

You opened your mouth to scream but a grubby palm covered your lips. And just like that you were pulled into the alley, disappearing without a soul to see.

“Smart one isn’t she?” The homeless guy from before drawled, and his back was no longer hunched and that hopeless gleam was not in his eyes, but instead his spine was straight and a predatory glint encompassed his entire face. How many people had been tricked by his ruse?

How could you be so stupid??

You thrashed and struggled but whoever had you captive was bigger and stronger, and you could feel your eyes burn with tears.

“Aw, she’s crying,” The guy behind you cooed, hand slipping down your body to suddenly dive into your pocket. “Don’t worry pretty miss, we jus’ want your money.”

“And maybe a treat,” The homeless one grinned, raking his gaze over your form and licking his lips.

Something within you broke.

You lashed out with a strength you didn’t know you had, ramming an elbow into your captor’s stomach hard. He let go of your mouth in surprise, expletives pouring off his tongue. The minute he did you screamed the loudest you ever had, throat rubbed raw as your voice rang out hoarsely.

“Shut her up!” The homeless guy hissed, stepping forward to take care of you manually when another voice interrupted everything.

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

The three of you looked at the end of the alley, where a certain hero stood casually, like he was watching a baseball match.

“Oh its the spider brat,” the guy behind you grunted, and the homeless guy raised an eyebrow.

“What are you looking at! Go ahead and run away you bug frea-”

The words hadn’t finished leaving his mouth when Spiderman shot an arm out, webs entangling the man, launching of his feet to kick him to the floor. You were left free when the other guy went to attack, his arm going to a bulge in his jacket that looked suspiciously like a gun.

Your heart leapt in worry and desperation. No matter how fast Spiderman was he couldn’t dodge a bullet.

Before you could even warn him Spiderman was there, impossibly, weaving through the attacker’s punches like he was dancing. The attacker was bigger and bolder in body mass, but as you watched Spiderman basically beat him into the ground and use his speed and mass against him, you wondered why you had even been worried.

Ten seconds later there were two unconscious bandits on the floor at your feet, and you were left looking at Spiderman with glazed eyes, shivering and trembling from the cold and at what had just transpired.

Spiderman stared back (or you imagined he did, his mask was not transparent). He cocked his head, as if he were studying you before holding out a hand.

You twitched, stepping back instinctively.

“Phone,” He said, and his voice was muffled by the mask, but you heard it anyway. It sounded deep, too deep, almost as if he were putting on an accent.

You could only stare wide eyed at him. Phone?

Phone!

You scrambled for your phone, pulling it out and placing it in his patient palm.

He dialed a number and put it to his ear when the rings stopped. 

“Yes, 911?” And again he had another accent, panicked this time and high as if a scared bystander. How many voices could he impersonate? Maybe he was better an actor than you had thought. “There are two men knocked out at the alley beside the restaurant Benny’s on fifth street! They look like the criminals that were on the news the other day. Please come!”

He hung up, tossing you your phone without hesitation and you fumbled to catch it.

Another awkward silence, and you could only imagine what you looked like: clothes a mess, a shallow wound bleeding on your face from where one of the men had scratched you in the struggle, gawking at the person who’d just saved you.

He cleared his throat.

“Are you coming?” He gestured to himself. “We need to leave before the fuzz get here.”

You didn’t give yourself ample time to mull over the fact that Spiderman had just called the police the fuzz and instead eyed his offered hand cautiously. Of course you knew logically he would never hurt you but you had already been assaulted once that night, and were understandably jittery.

His voice lowered, more gentle at your obvious fright. “I won’t hurt you.”

You thought that maybe he had forgotten his need for a fake accent because that sounded too familiar to the voice of a certain brunette you sat behind in school, but you ignored it.

You nodded and shuffled to him, feeling the warmth of his presence as his hand wrapped around yours. He stared at you for a second longer before he was pulling you towards him with a tug, and you somehow imagined a grin forming on his face. 

“Hang on.”

Flying with Spiderman put any rollercoaster out there to shame.

Ok, it technically wasn’t flying, but it sure felt like it as you clung shamelessly to him, repressing screams as he swung over the city. Wind ran through your hair and had it messily streaking across your eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut, stomach falling to the ground-

And it was over. Just like that.

You didn’t know how long it had really lasted, but it felt like only a couple seconds when Spiderman landed you on your balcony. You clung to him still, mind spinning. The adrenaline should have had you as awake as a bunny on five shots of pepsi and mentos but instead you found that you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Here we are-” Spiderman was interrupted by your body slumping into his side. He nearly fell forward but adjusted to handle your dead weight. “H-Hey! You alright?”

“Peachy,” you mumbled but your legs already gave out. He sighed, seemingly contemplating something before going towards your glass doors that you left unlocked, sliding them open and stepping into your room.

“This is on so many levels creepy,” You thought you heard him say to himself but you were dipping in and out of consciousness as he laid you down gently on your bed.

You registered sheets tucking themselves under your chin.

“Night, Y/N,” You caught whispered over the rush in your ears lulling you to sleep.

“Thank you, Peter,” you muttered back, already asleep before you could feel the hand on your arm tighten in surprise.



Something was wrong.

It was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t find it.

You mused in wonder as you brushed your teeth, gazing at your reflection. What was this feeling?

You gurgled and spit, rubbing foam that had escaped the water at the corner of your mouth.

You went over the events of last night as you said good morning to your parents, popping a piece of toast in your mouth. Stayed at school late. Robbers. Spiderman.

It was easy enough to remember. After all, you had a cut on your face to prove it hadn’t been a dream.

But that still wasn’t what was eluding you, you thought in frustration as you entered the school gates, stepping off the bus. Sure it had been terrifying, but the queasy feeling of unnerve in your abdomen was different somehow. What had happened? Were you forgetting something?

You stopped stressing over it as you settled in your first class. No point if you couldn’t remember. If it was important you surely would later.

It was only when you were walking into the room of your second period that you were hit with the reason of the unease. You waved bye to a friend in the hall, stepping into the class and shifting your head, Peter Parker lifting his own head from his desk to meet your eyes-

The hazy memories came back looking into those brown eyes.

You’d landed on your balcony after he saved you…he tucked you in because you suddenly couldn’t function…he had said your name and that maybe was the reason why you felt to respond using his as well-

“Thank you, Peter.”

Oh god you’d said his name.

And there was no excuse you had for why you could possibly know that.

You broke eye contact with him, walking with hurry, trying to ignore his eyes burning into the back of your head. You stopped by one of your closer friends and asked to trade seats with him with what you hoped wasn’t a stutter. He agreed with questioning in his eyes but agreed anyway, and you sighed in relief that you didn’t have to sit behind Peter. 

When the bell rang in an hour you shot out of your seat and out of the class before Peter could get the chance to even bat an eyelash your way. You were not having that conversation.

You proceeded to ignore him the whole day at every point, blatantly not sitting where you normally would for lunch, running from classes before he could catch you. Finally the last class for the day ended with a ring of the bell and you speed walked to the exit of the school after shrugging on your bag. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, freedom in sight-

“Y/N.”

You froze as a hand landed on your shoulder. 

“A-Ah. Yes?”

“Do you mind me asking you something?” 

Yes, you minded very very much-

Not at all.”

From an outsiders view the conversation was harmless, normal as Peter shifted, kind as he usually was, simply asking a friend to stop. But you knew better. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. The hand on your shoulder exhibited enough force that he overpowered you five times to one.

Peter smiled innocently. “Great.”

Two seconds later you were shuffled into an empty classroom. Peter shut the door behind him, leaning against it with crossed arms and expectant eyes.

“Uh-” You started. “What’s this about?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. He said nothing but his stare intensified, as if saying ‘don’t play with me’.

You broke, feeling very intimidated. “Look, yes I know who you are. But I promise, I didn’t tell anyone-”

“How can I trust you?”

You gaped like a fish. “What?” 

“You heard me,” He tilted his head, and you watched his jaw tighten, eyes storming.

You wanted to cry.

“I-I don’t- I’m sorry I-”

A chuckle.

You stopped, utterly confused as you watched Peter dissolve into laughter. At your befuddled expression he laughed louder, covering his mouth and outright giggling. 

“What.” You deadpanned at this point.

He opened one eye, tearing up at his guffawing. He wiped it, a blush staining his flushed face. 

“I-I’m not going to kill you, Y/N,” He said, still trying to control himself. Whatever intimidation you had been getting was erased completely, and he was genuinely grinning at you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just wanted to know how you knew it was me. But that was great.”

You had seen him trembling before, yes, but you thought that was from anger not from restraining laughter. You registered that he had tricked you finally after your brain caught up.

You were going to kill him.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“W-Woah!” He backed off, and you reveled in his frightened face, though you doubted you could even bruise him. “I’m sorry but the chance was right there and you were running away from me all day like you thought I was going to bury you in my backyard.”

At this your own anger dissipated and you couldn’t help the snort that left you at the image. You blanched, appalled at what you’d just done but if anything Peter looked more amused.

“See? It was funny.”

You let it go, rolling your eyes. “Alright fine, fine.”

“But really,” He appraised you curiously. “Did someone tell you? How did you know?”

“I figured it out myself,” You replied, and his eyebrows raised in surprise as if that was the last thing he was expecting.

“What? H-How?”

“What?” You smirked. “Sad your full proof secret identity was figured out? You’re not that subtle Pete.”

His mouth flapped, as if you had just insulted his ego, ears staining red at the tips. You snorted again and he grumbled, but his lips lifted.

“Is that it?” You asked when he didn’t say anything else, merely looking at you with soft eyes, causing something stirring in you that made your insides heat. “You’re not going to bribe or blackmail me to keep your secret?”

“Bribe?” He asked, incredulous but still amused. He laughed. “What do you think I am?”

You shrugged sheepishly. 

Peter shook his head. “No, if you haven’t said anything this far, I don’t think you will moving forward.” He smiled and it was like he was the sun, small dimples forming at the sides of his mouth as his eyes crinkled. “I trust you to keep my secret.”

Your heart jumped again and this time you couldn’t ignore it as warmth flooded you at his smile.

“I see, thank you.” You tried to control your breathing as your heart-rate picked up, holding onto your bag straps for comfort. “I guess I’ll leave then.”

“Wait,” He stopped you, still blocking the door. You gave him an inquisitive gaze and he paused, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“A-Actually there is something I’d like you to do,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck apprehensively. “You k-know, as assurance that you won’t give it up.”

“What?” You asked hesitantly. What could he want for him to be reacting like that.

At your words he swallowed visibly then looked at you with pink cheeks, smiling crookedly. “Kiss me?”

Your universe stopped.

When you didn’t reply he began rambling again, the confidence knocked right out of him.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve always kind of liked you and-” You were already walking towards him while he went off on a tangent, embarrassed. 

“Y-you kind of sit behind me all the time so I can’t really talk to y-you but I think you’re beautiful and since, well you know my secret now I was just wondering and I-I know it’s stupid-”

“Peter,” you said, and you had crossed the distance to stand right in front of him. His cheeks glowed brighter.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

You pressed your lips to his softly, inexperienced. He gasped against your mouth, unresponsive in shock, before he was suddenly all motion, gripping you and kissing you back. The world spun and his back was no longer against the door but yours was, and you couldn’t care less, raising your hands to play with the curls at the base of his neck that had always fascinated you. 

Peter made a noise against you as you tugged at the strands and you found yourself unable to think when his shy, sweet kisses turned more desperate, roughly searing his lips to yours, drawing shivers and goosebumps. 

A rattle of the doorknob knocked the both of you out of the spell and you gasped raggedly as the door you were leaning against rattled again.

“Locked…? Hey, is someone in there?” The janitor’s voice called. 

You quieted your pants, staring into Peter’s eyes, elation running through you as he put a finger to his lips, smiling back. After another couple knocks the janitor grumbled, and you heard the jingle of keys as he backed off from the door to find the right one.

“What are we gonna do?” You whispered, but the grin curving your lips didn’t match the worry in your tone. Peter motioned for you to follow as he went to the window. It was only when he opened it and put a leg on the sill that you stammered. “Hey wait, are you serious? This is the third floor!”

“And I’m Spiderman,” Peter whispered back, winking at you as he held out a hand for you to take as the doorknob rattled once more. 

“Now trust me.”

[MasterList]

Hwarang au where everything is the same except Ah Ro and Soo Yeon are replaced by Min Yoonji and Kim Army. (Featuring Ippy the dog)

Originally posted by ijustlovethemx

Originally posted by kimnamsjoon

Originally posted by jungkook-speakeu