where ya going

🔺bastille emojis🔺

🎵When did you hear your first song by them? What was it?

⛺️Have you seen them live?

🎧What do you like about them and their music?

💿Favorite album?

🌎Favorite song from Wild World

🗣Favorite song to sing along to?

📼Favorite song off the mixtapes?

📀Favorite cover?

👤If you could only meet one member who’d you choose and why?

👀Craziest or weirdest thing you’ve done as a fan? 

💔Most underrated song?

🚫Most overrated song?

🛒How much of their merch do you own?

📸Post your favorite photo of each member. (or your fav of them all together)

🎸Favorite song to hear live?

🎻Favorite acoustic song?

📝Favorite interview?

💕Which member do you relate to the most?

📽Favorite music video?

🎡If you got to spend the day with the band what would you want to do?

🎶Favorite song from Bad Blood?

🥊Which member do you want to punch you in the face?

💘Which member do you want to punch in the face with love and kindness?

💞Would you rather smother them with affection and hugs or them smother you dead?

🤝Would you hold dan so he can stop asking about it in his songs? 

🖕🏻If dan gave you the middle finger how much better would that make your day on a scale from incredibly better to blessed?

6

A messy little comic where Otabek calls it out.

Part 6/Part 8

It only gets happier from here, I promise. Next part coming out next week 👍🏾

They’re getting married.

With the sweat on his back sinking uncomfortably into his costume, Victor’s first and only thought is that they’re getting married. There are cameras flashing at them at blinding speeds as they hold up their medals, recording their every move, and the reporters yell for their attention. Victor drowns them all out.

Victor can’t exactly spare anyone a second of his glance.

Not when from the top podium, his fiancé holds up his gold medal with pride and just a hint of overwhelming disbelief, still in shock that he actually won. 

Not when Yuuri looks down at him with twinkling dark eyes and a breathless, slow grin, sweat beading at his hairline, looking like a masterpiece that has come to life. 

Not when he stares at Victor with his chest heaving, beautiful brown eyes shiny with happy tears, as if to say, Look at me, Vitya. Look how far I’ve come.

The sight makes Victor’s throat run dry, makes his gut flutter and his heart hammer inside his chest with the bruising force of his adoration. It makes Victor want to say, Happiness and a gold medal looks beautiful on you, solnyshko.

It makes him want to say, you make me fall in love with you again and again.

It makes him want to say, you are everything I’ve ever wanted.

It makes him want to say, please marry me. Please stay forever. I love you, I love you, I love you—

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Headcanon: After they get together, before Lena finds out that Kara is Supergirl. She takes her on all of these vacations, eager to show the world to the woman who has given it to her. She takes Kara to the Colosseum, they kiss at the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris (Kara eats more pastries in France than Lena thought possible) they walk hand-in-hand along the Great Wall of China. Lena also takes Kara to her favorite vineyard, and a private beach she discovered during a break from her mother. 

Lena’s favorite place in the world is the cottage near Mangerton Mountain in Ireland that she purchased in cash and has never told anyone about. 

 It takes only one night of Lena settled between her legs in front of the fireplace, the only sounds in the world their breathing and the crackle from the fire, for Kara to decide that this might be her favorite place too. She thinks maybe her favorite place is wherever Lena is. 

 After Lena discovers that Kara is, in fact, Supergirl. (A misstep by Winn that Alex quickly follows with a smack to his head and various threats) Her eyes widen as the realization hits. Kara has already seen the world, probably even more so than Lena herself. When she asks Kara about it, she pulls her close and says, “Yeah, Lena, I’ve flown everywhere. But I had never really seen anywhere until I was looking through your eyes. I want to explore the rest of the world with you, see everything with you.” Kara pauses, “Can I take you to my favorite place?” The smile Lena gives her, soft and sincere, is all the answer Kara needs. 

 The tears Kara sees in her eyes when they land in Ireland tell her that she was right. Her favorite place is with Lena. 

post reveal, adrien just buys mari alllllllll the chat noir stuff. all of it. all of her gifts are chat noir themed. if they’re using special edition chat noir cups in some random restaurant three hours away, he will get one for her. it will end up in a chat noir gift bag wrapped in chat noir wrapping paper. mari has chat noir themed clothing and pencil cases and notebooks and kitchenware and accessories and her room is slowly becoming more black and green than pink 

and marinette does the exact same thing. she goes out of her way so that everything she makes for adrien is subtly ladybug themed in some way. she gets him ladybug pjs and posters and headphones with antenna on them. she plasters his room in red and black spots. she sets his lockscreen as ladybug and it stays that way for almost two months

for their first anniversary, they swap superhero themed bags and pull out superhero themed gifts

alya and nino joke that they’re more in love with the superheroes than each other and adrien just pulls on the ears of mari’s chat noir sweatshirt

but at the same time, they spend so much time together that they just…swap stuff? like adrien will notice that he’s somehow ended up using mari’s cat headphones for the past week and a half. marinette will be wearing adrien’s ladybug hoodie and when he mentions it she claims it’s hers because she’s the one who wears the spots in this relationship. mari’s chat noir sketchbook is in adrien’s bookshelf and adrien’s ladybug backpack is hanging on mari’s doorknob

the only thing they don’t swap is this giant ladybug and chat noir blanket that is perfect for rooftop cuddling. even if adrien steals it from mari when they accidentally fall asleep up there

BOY DO I EVER LOVE WORKING ON THIS GENUINELY FUNNY AND FULFILLING SHOW WITH ALL THE HARDWORKING PEOPLE PUTTING IN HOURS TO MAKE IT AS GOOD AS IT CAN BE

I SURE HOPE PEOPLE GIVE IT A GENUINE CHANCE AND APPRECIATE ALL THAT WE DO FOR IT AND DON’T BLAME THE SHOW FOR THINGS IT DIDN’T DO (LIKE THE CANCELLATION OF OTHER SHOWS ON THE NETWORK)

Anonymous said: Does Sayuri have her own Cursed Gear? All I’ve seen her use are fuda and that weird paper sword thing.

According to my fanbook, the sword is indeed her cursed gear called Kukuri, the two kanji for the name being Chrysanthemum and the other one for justice/logic/truth. It is a possession type of the Dakini series. “A spell sword. Even though it is low in durability, it can be used any number of times as long as there are spells.” (The kanji used is along the lines of “renewable resource”)

The Mouse, the Motorcycle, and the Dreamer

Ronan didn’t intend for it to happen and yet here they where: a surly, sleep-deprived teen and a sentient, sartorial mouse. Oh, and a tiny, fully functional motorcycle.

Ronan did what he always did when confounded by his dreams: he showed up on Adam’s doorstep. It was three in the morning. Adam Parrish had finally fallen asleep. He was groggy and rumpled when he opened the door.

“Ronan,” he sighed before stepping back and letting Ronan in.

Ronan was vibrating with excess energy, his eyes wide and practically sparkling. “Parrish,” he breathed, “you will not believe this.”

Adam collapsed on his bed. He was prepared to believe anything if it meant he could go back to sleep.

“Yes?” he asked and yawned widely.

“Look.”

Ronan carefully reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a mouse. A mouse who was dressed almost identically to Ronan: miniscule jeans, black muscle tee, and a leather jacket.

Adam blinked twice and rubbed his eyes.

“What… I mean, who is this?” He was wide awake now. Ronan’s weirdness had reached a new level.

“Are you kidding me?” Ronan laughed incredulously. “This is Ralph! You know… The Mouse and the Motorcycle?”

Adam shook his head. The mouse, Ralph, stared at him with blatant disapproval.

Ronan was shocked. Didn’t everyone read this book as a child? Sure, Niall and Aurora weren’t your average parents but they still kept with the classic children’s books. But Adam didn’t have that, did he? Ronan swallowed around the lump in his throat. Ralph jumped off his hand and started exploring Adam’s apartment. Adam watched him with avid curiosity.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Ronan said. “You can read the book to Opal. Lord knows she loves bedtime stories. We’ll work our way through the canon. It’ll, uh, be great.”

“Oh?” Adam asked. “Does this mean you’ll also read her some books?”

Ronan thought about it. Ralph had made it up onto Adam’s desk and was reading his history essay.

“Sure,” Ronan agreed. “But only The Dark is Rising. And A Wrinkle in Time.”

“I haven’t read those,” Adam admitted. Ronan howled and mimed being wounded. Adam playfully tackled him and it devolved into a tickle war.

They were interrupted by a surprisingly low, “Dudes.” Both of them jerked upright, nearly knocking their heads together as they scanned the room for the speaker.

“Down here,” said the voice. They peered over the edge of the bed and there was Ralph, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Fuck, man, I forgot you were here,” Ronan apologized.

Ralph shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

Adam stared at Ralph, then Ronan, before doubling over in laughter. “I *can’t* believe you dreamed yourself a… a mouse doppleganger!”

Ronan and Ralph both vehemently denied this but Adam knew the truth and he couldn’t help but be charmed by imagining kid Ronan daydreaming about an adventurous mouse and his badass bike.

You never grow out of some dreams.

[Ralph comes to live at the Barns and teaches the other mice how to ride the motorcycle. They all want one. Ronan spends a week dreaming up different models. The first all-mice motorcycle gang is formed.

Adam and Ronan start reading classic children’s books to Opal. She loves it. Her favorite story is The Graveyard Book. She says Bod reminds her of someone.]

anonymous asked:

to be honest i'm just very bad at requests (i don't wanna bother you). i was also curious since i've only ever seen Viktor being delirious in his native language. i'd love if you could draw it but you don't have to (sorry i'm so awkward) ~ graceless-fever

22. delirious/crying because they’re feverish

💢 PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-KINK BLOGS 💢

This Is War [4]
Request: jealous!bucky where he tries to outdo the guy in everything and its just ridiculous and funny (Again, wasn’t sure if this was an ACTUAL request, but I thought it would be fun as one :p)


Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1328

Warnings: It’s a little boring maybe? This fic is developing by itself now.. 

 A/N: Holy!! The amount of support you guys are giving for this fic is amazing!! Thank you so much for reading and for all the likes and comments! Feedback is definitely what keeps me going, so thank you, so much!! 

Keep reading

4
| 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]

   ❛  And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister’s story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.  ❜

WELCOME TO THE NEW WORLD  ——  ALBION!

In the year 2026 the world as we knew it ended. There were many stories spoken about it, and yet one thing remained a constant element of each of them  ——  nature reclaimed what was hers. It started with weather acting out on a grand scale, reshaping the industrialized world. Then the power died down, and with it many resources had gone short ; all of which when lost, created an open way to pick through people one by one. Great numbers were lost to pandemics, cataclysms, finally leaving very few survivors fending for their lives, and searching through wrecks of the Old World. One of them was the legendary Merlin, who began bringing survivors from the entire world to the old lands of British Isles. On top of the ruins a community was formed, that through mutual effort began to pick humanity back onto its feet. With it, magic was reborn, thus new Albion was created!

Now it’s the year 2158. For over one hundred years the community expanded, learning its ways in the new world. As generations kept growing, the occupied lands became larger, and a civilization was hatched from its ashes  ——  creating a world where people were equal, as was love, profession and beliefs. A lot of old crafts and lore made its return to a world where magic is once again roaming free through the lands, creating a balanced mix of scrapped technology and fantasy. A reality where the greatest gift is to give back to others with skill and knowledge, with books being a vital resource of it, and where the people of the lands choose their leaders, who all meet every now and then to discuss the well-being of Albion. And as for Merlin…  he lives by the Crystal Cave quietly overlooking it all.

If you want to join this world, now is your chance! See for yourself where your character lands, and if the peace that’s been kept for the past one hundred and thirty two years will last.

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