si sólo pudiese

concentrarme en “ser feliz”

todo sería más fácil

pero me buscaste entre las tinieblas

y me di cuenta de que me acostumbré a ellas

ya no tengo forma de escapar

how i died

OK Y’ALL READY TO READ HOW I DIED!! sorry this took so long but I wanted to make some gifs to make this rollercoaster experience more real. this is going to be long (I already know it) so sip on some drinks coz dis gon’ be wildddd! disclaimer: I also got a little carried away with this post.. um.. idk why..

also, please don’t repost my gifs. they were made using videos I took at the concert :)

Keep reading

Photo Book/Sam Winchester

Requested by @lgbtfangirl , got gif from the internet, so all credit goes to the person, who made it

(Y/N) had been with Sam and Dean for the past three years after (Y/N)’s family died after a vampire attack. Sam and Dean saved (Y/N) before taking (Y/N) in like family.

“(Y/N), let’s go.” Dean yelled at (Y/N) before (Y/N) closed the photo book that had all the photos of Dean, Sam and (Y/N) from the past three years. Dean and Sam didn’t know about the photo book and (Y/N) planned to keep it a secret.

“Coming.” (Y/N) said before hiding the photo book under (Y/N)’s pillow before leaving the room, (Y/N) was staying in. (Y/N) meet Dean at the door before grabbing dinner. Sam had already eaten, so he was not hungry.

Once Dean and (Y/N) left, Sam did some laundry before doing some dishes. Sam checked all the room before going into (Y/N)’s room to get dishes. Sam walked over to (Y/N)’s nightstand to grab the coffee cup that was on it.

“Crap.” Sam said as he spilled some on (Y/N)’s pillow. Sam set the coffee cup back on the nightstand and grabbed the pillow to wash it. Once Sam picked the pillow up, he saw a book. Sam grabbed the book to see it was a photo book with a homemade title, saying ‘New Family’

Sam opened the photo book to see photo’s of Sam, Dean and (Y/N) the day after the brother’s saved (Y/N). Sam looked at other photo’s of the three of them, some with Bobby, and Cas but mostly it was photo’s of Sam and (Y/N).

Sam found a letter on the last page of pictures that was addressed to him. Sam opened the letter before reading it.

‘Dear Sam,

Okay, I know you probably will never read this but I needed to get this out. I have a secret that I have been keeping from you but it seems like everyone else seems to know this secret. The day, you saved me from those vampires and took me in. You are so nice and loving. I could have never asked for a better friend but for the past 6 months, my feels for you have changed. I like you a lot, more than friends. I understand that you might not like me back but please don’t let this ruin our friendship. (Y/N)’

Sam finished reading the letter before hearing Dean and (Y/N) talking. Sam closed the photo book and placed it back where it went. Sam placed a different pillow on the photo book before taking the pillow that had coffee on it and the coffee cup.

“Hey, Sam.” (Y/N) said walking into the room. “Hey, sorry I was grabbing the coffee cup to wash it and I got some on your pillow I am going to go wash it.” Sam said before (Y/N) nodded.

Sam left (Y/N)’s room before putting the pillow in the wash and the cup in the sink. Sam grabbed the letter that (Y/N) wrote him out of his back pocket before reading it again.

“Wow.” He said feeling sad that (Y/N) has told him. Sam sighed before placing the letter back into his pocket before washing the dishes.

Sam had been in love with (Y/N) for over a year but was too scared to tell (Y/N). He didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Once the pillow was dry, Sam took it back to (Y/N)’s room.

Sam knocked on the door before he opened it to see (Y/N), sitting on the bed reading a book. “Hey, here is your pillow.” Sam said placing the pillow on the bed. “Thank you for washing it.” (Y/N) said smiling.

“No problem.” Sam said before walking to the door. Sam made it about halfway through the door before walking back into (Y/N)’s room before closing the door. “What are you doing.” (Y/N) asked Sam as he turned around.

“Something, I should have done before.” Sam said before walking over to (Y/N) and pulling (Y/N) up. “Sam..” (Y/N) said before Sam interrupted (Y/N) with a kiss. The kiss was rough but also lovely. (Y/N) kissed back with the same amount of passion, Sam put into. After what seemed like a few minutes, Sam and (Y/N) pulled away to breathe.

Sam smiled at (Y/N). “I read the letter.” Sam said pulling the letter out of his pocket. (Y/N) looked at the letter as the smile on (Y/N)’s face dropped causing Sam to be worried. (Y/N) grabbed the letter before pushing Sam away.

“Get out. Get out.” (Y/N) said pushing Sam. “No, I read it and I am glad I did.” Sam said holding (Y/N)’s arms. “I am so glad I read it because I love you.” Sam said causing (Y/N) to look him in the eyes.

“I love you (Y/N), I am so sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam said to (Y/N). Sam pulled (Y/N) closer before placing his head on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “I love you (Y/N).” Sam said holding (Y/N).

“Sam, how did you find the letter.” (Y/N) asked Sam. “I spilled the coffee on your pillow, picked it up and found the photo book before looking through it. I found the letter, and read it.” Sam said as he wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s waist.

“I love you too.” (Y/N) said as Sam looked at (Y/N) with a smile. Sam pulled (Y/N) into a kiss before (Y/N) hit him in the arm. “Next time, I will kick your ass.” (Y/N) said to Sam as he nodded. “By the way, you are a great photographer” Sam said before kissing (Y/N) again.

Thank you for reading, please heart and request a one-shot if you want more-Nerdgirl1235 


| I can’t forget, with you on my mind,
                                              The moment we started to live separate lives
  |                                                           [ x ]

Morgan and Inigo give me lotsa feels when I think about Awakening bleeding into Fates. Why’d you leave your lil sis behind, Nigo-kun?

Please do not remove caption, repost or edit. Ask permission to use! Thank you ♥


It’s incredible as to how many people are still obsessed with using identity politics despite it being so painfully obvious that it’s just a cruel game of one-upmanship, like so:

A: “I feel really crappy right now and I wish someone was here supporting me.”
B: “Yeah, A, but you haven’t been through abuse. I’m an abuse survivor. I could have your problems, but also have to deal with trauma. Your problems are therefore nothing compared to mine.”
C: “Yeah, B, but you’re not mentally ill. I’m a mentally ill man who’s an abuse survivor. I could have your problems, but also have to deal with ableism. Your problems are therefore nothing compared to mine.”
D: “Yeah, C, but you’re a man. I’m a mentally ill woman who’s an abuse survivor. I could have your problems, but also have to deal with misogyny. Your problems are therefore nothing compared to mine.”
E: “Yeah, D, but you’re cis. I’m a mentally ill trans woman who’s an abuse survivor. I could have your problems, but also have to deal with transphobia. Your problems therefore mean nothing compared to mine.”
F: “Yeah, E, but you’re white. I’m a black mentally ill trans woman who’s an abuse survivor. I could have your problems, but also have to deal with anti-black racism. Your problems therefore mean nothing compared to mine.”

So suddenly, A asking for a little support after having a bad day leaves him open to be mocked and abused. There’s no compassion for him. No care for him. No space for any kind of basic human kindness.

Even in the middle of the pack, D gets to be mocked and abused because her problems still aren’t “enough” for others to give any compassion or sympathy.

And because identity politics is like this, the extra labels in bold end up becoming what’s important. It’s not even the so-called “intersectionality” that ends up being important, despite the claims to the contrary. It’s the final, additional label that gets all the focus.

  • Having a bad day isn’t as important as surviving abuse.
  • Surviving abuse isn’t as important as ableism.
  • Ableism isn’t as important as misogyny.
  • Misogyny isn’t as important as transphobia.
  • Transphobia isn’t as important as racism.

What’s even more shocking is that whilst A in this scenario is currently feeling really down and needs support right that second, in every other scenario thanks to identity politics, they’re not focused on what’s currently happening. They dismiss A because of labels that could mean that terrible things have happened in the past, or that bigotry might happen again in the future. It’s torn between “Once I had it worse than you currently have it, so that means that your issues are worthless” and “Something could potentially happen to me in the future that I think will be worse than you currently have it, so that means that your issues are worthless.” 

And that’s horrific.

But that’s not all. It doesn’t even always come from those with different labels to A. Sometimes it comes from people who are just like A, but because B, C, D, E and F even exist, then those people use them to dismiss A anyway.

In any other scenario, this kind of thinking would clearly show how nasty, cruel and disgusting people like that are.

1: “I’m upset because my snake might be sick.”
2: “Yeah, 1, but my snake had a disease, so you being upset means nothing.”
3: “Yeah, 2, but my snake died, so you being upset means nothing.”
4: “Yeah, 3, but I had a hamster that died, so you being upset means nothing.”
5: “Yeah, 4, but I had a dog that died, so you being upset means nothing.”

Or like this:

Z: “I’m upset because my parent is sick.”
Y: “Yeah, Z, but my parent is in the hospital, so you being upset means nothing.”
X: “Yeah, Y, but my parent died, so you being upset means nothing.”
W: “Yeah, X, but I never knew my parent, so you being upset means nothing.”

Anyone is allowed to feel pain without feeling guilty.

Someone always has it better than you. And someone else always has it worse.

There isn’t a limit on how much compassion you can give. How much care you can offer. How much sympathy you can feel.

Caring about one issue doesn’t mean that you have to stop caring about another.

Everybody goes through their own issues. They appear because of personal circumstances, background, their families, their friends, their schools, their jobs, their environment. Nightmares. Worry. Stress. 

Sneering that someone else’s personal problems are “worse” when you see that someone is having a rough time doesn’t make you “woke,” it makes you a monster.

Estaba en el parque con un amigo que no veía hace tiempo y ni bien nos vimos decidimos comprar weed ahí mismo, fui a buscar de grupo en grupo en el parque preguntando si vendían weed pero no encontraba hasta que me acerque a unos mochileros colombianos y les pregunte “¿parce tienes weed?” uno de ellos se paro y me miro deferente a los ojos como intimidandome y dijo “tengo algo mucho mejor que eso, tengo trips” me quede pensando un rato y en mi mente dije “fui por cobre y encontré oro” y lo compré sin pensar. Salí del grupo y fui con mi amigo Leo, y le dije oye huevon tengo trips están baratos hay que comprar uno mas y nos tripeamos, y el no quería hasta que lo convencí, para ese entonces yo ya me había metido un cartón entero en la lengua, y volví nuevamente con el colombiano y le dije oye dame un trip más un amigo se animó, nos quedamos hablando un rato y finalmente me vendió el trip, volví con Leo y le di el trip se lo comió y esperamos como media hora y no nos chocaba y estábamos pensando que nos habían estafado, todo triste fuimos al otro parque a fumar lo poco que a él le quedaba. Ni bien había fumado un poco, el trip se me había subido, y le dije Leo creo que el trip ya me chocó, y el me respondió creo que a mi también.  El viaje había comenzando, todo a mi alrededor se derretía y la gente parecía pequeña, yo era un gigante y podía aplastar a todos, y fuimos caminando hacia otro parque y mientras caminábamos la gente se hacia pequeña y gorda, el suelo parecía de goma cada vez que lo pisaba, y yo dije a la mierda aquí me muero, mi corazón latía bastante, llegamos a otro parque y nos encontramos con dos artistas callejeros de nuestra edad que estaban tocando ahí mismo, los dos tocaban la guitarra en sincronia, nos detuvimos a escucharlo y me dio un viaje que nunca voy a olvidar, no puedo describirlo con exactitud pero su música era perfecta, termino de tocar y le hable a uno de ellos y le dije; oye me has dado el viaje de la vida te lo agradezco toma este trip en forma de mi agradecimiento, lo saque de mi lengua y se lo di (cosa que ellos dos nunca supieron), lo partieron en dos y se comieron el trip, ya eramos cuatro chicos tripeados en el Centro de Lima, yo ese rato estaba hiperactivo y estaba bailando en la calle, luego estaba corriendo como si toda la gente estuviera en un campo de guerra, mi pistola era mi mano y andaba corriendo a cada rato, no sabíamos a donde ibamos hasta que uno de los dos chicos dijo (nunca supe sus nombres) vamos a la playa caminando (la playa quedaba a tres horas a pie) y yo dije esta bien vamos, yo solo seguí caminando y caminando sin saber, no se por cuanto caminamos pero vimos un puente que nunca habíamos visto en nuestras vidas, y le pregunte a Leo, oye ese puente es de verdad o es una ilusión, y el me respondió nunca lo he visto, creo que es el trip, le pregunte a los dos chicos y ellos dijeron solo crucemos el puente, cruzamos y no se que paso en ese momento pero fue como teletransportarnos porque cruzamos el puente y habíamos llegado cerca a la playa y yo dije: Wow, como llegamos hasta aquí si llevamos solo una hora caminando, Leo estaba muy sorprendido, el tiempo se había detenido y los dos chicos que nos acompañaban se notaba que sabían lo que hacían porque luego nos dijeron, ahora van a sentir un dolor en todo el cuerpo por haber caminado tanto, y después de eso, nos dolió un chingo el cuerpo, caminamos muy cansados y finalmente llegamos a playa, para ese entonces yo estaba muy feliz, había llegado al punto cero, el punto cero es cuando te conviertes en un niño y no te importa nada, solo disfrutas porque eso es lo que realmente vale, disfrutar y vivir. Nos sentamos y ellos empezaron a tocar la guitarra, yo me relaje y me eché en la arena, y mientras ellos tocaban yo me estaba dando un viaje hermoso cerré los ojos y pude ver al Dios Brahma dentro de un mándala con colores psicodelicos y dentro de ello había otros dioses hindues, todos girando dentro del mándala, su música era muy muy viajera y me hacía sentir bien. Fuimos hasta la orilla de la playa y empezamos a dibujar con la piedritas del mar en la arena, luego corrimos como unos niños mientras cada uno hacia un ritmo con el pie y otro con la mano, asi como de esas peliculas de disney cuando van caminando bueno así, yo estaba totalmente feliz, el camino estaba rodeado de aves negras, nadie lo había notado, pero yo lo ví, todo el camino unas aves negras nos estaban observando, y seguimos caminando toda la madrugada hasta llegar al Parque del amor en Miraflores y nos echamos un rato, los otros dos se fueron a dormir en los arbustos y yo con Leo nos quedamos conversando sobre lo que habia pasado en otro lugar cerca de los arbustos, cuando amaneció Leo se había ido a su casa, yo me habia quedado para hablar con ellos, me acerque a los arbustos para despertarlos y no los encontré, los busque, los llamé, y nunca aparecieron, ellos no existían, ellos nunca existieron, ellos fueron parte de nuestra imaginación así como la vida que estamos viviendo actualmente. Buenas tardes.

Me mire al espejo y me di cuenta que estaba llena de defectos, entonces me pregunte; ¿Alguien querría estar con una chica tan imperfecta como lo soy yo?

†La Chica De Los Ojos Tristes†

“Really, Peter, my daughter ?” - Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary : Peter starts to date Tony Stark’s daughter and the Iron Man isn’t sure he’s liking it…Well, actually, he’s pretty sure he hates it. 

I wanted to write something else than Batfam or DC related for once sooooooo…Here’s a Peter Parker story yo. It has probably been written a thousand times, but after I watched “Spider-Man : Homecoming”, all I wanted to do was writing a story with Peter starting to date Tony’s daughter so…yeah. Here it is. Hope you’ll like it : 

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com


Peter didn’t really mean for this to happen. Far from it. Oh it would have avoided him a world of troubles if none of this ever happened. 

Nope, totally didn’t mean for this to happen. Besides, when he first met you, he had a massive crush on Liz and had eyes only for her. Oh he was head over heels for her. And, your first encounter wasn’t exactly…a smooth one. 


Months earlier, when Peter helped your father against Captain America: 

It was very soon after the big fight between “Team Iron Man” and “Team Captain America” that you met him. Peter was waiting for  “Mr. Stark” in the Avengers’ watchtower, in one of the waiting lounge. 

An annoying elevator music was playing and Peter was awkwardly sitting in one of the ridiculously fancy chair of the lounge, waiting for…Someone. Anyone really. 

He had been waiting for hours. Did…did they forgot about him ? Nooooo, Mr. Stark would never do that to him. 

And when the door opened, Peter’s heart leapt at the thought of talking to his hero again and…A girl he only saw on TV appeared, hurriedly closing the door behind her. 

You. It was you. The famous (Y/N) Stark, only daughter of the even more famous Tony Stark, and therefor, sole heir to the Stark’s fortune.  

You didn’t even notice Peter at first, as he was sitting in the chair furthest to the door, and when you did, the face you made made him flinch. You seemed so unhappy to see him…

-Who the Hell are you ?

You ask without any other preamble. Peter stands up and clears his throat…and oh he wanted to slap himself when instead of telling you his name he said : 

-You’re…You’re (Y/N) Stark ! 

You roll your eyes at him and approach him slowly, giving him a suspicious look before saying : 

-Thank you, without you, I think I would have never known my own name. I’m so grateful right now…

The sarcasm in your voice was so strong Peter thought he could feel it squeezing his heart and self-confidence. It took him way too long before he finally answered : 

-Peee…Pee…Peter Parker. 

Keep reading

I havent played Nier: Automata since the demo, but I’ve already listened to the entire ost AND some of the original Nier ost. I’VE GONE AND READ UP ON NIER TO GET AN IDEA OF WHAT IM GETTING INTO. AND IM INVESTED IN CHARACTERS I HAVENT EVEN PLAYED.

Only reason why I haven’t gone to the store to buy it is because my patient/arrogant ass is waiting for more Black Box Editions to come out.

God. Damn it. 

The music is fucking great.

through the seasons ♡ peter parker

summary : really soft, caring, simple love between you and peter parker through the four seasons, insp. by northern wind by city and colour

 ( as requested - lovely song by the way wow i’m in love )

word count : 1.8k


   There’s a harsh but lovingly embraced breeze blowing in from the north on this day in late September, though the cold weather that had descended suddenly upon New York without much of a warning other than the changing of the months from August to September is not an unwelcome time in your life, or in Peter’s. The two of you have a tendency to prefer the colder months to the ones of a warmer temperature, neither of you quite sure as to why or how this preference had developed. It was just there one day, when before it had not been. School has only been in session for a little over two weeks and while some may consider the restart of classes a downside to the changing of the seasons, for you it simply means that you get to see Peter more often than you had in the summer, and there’s no way you could possibly carp on about seeing that sweetheart who was simply just goodness personified. 

    You’re sitting with him again after school, boots crunching against the leaves that had fluttered to the ground overnight. The city had practically shifted overnight as well. One moment you had been surrounded by the green of the trees that swept over New York and the next you were watching their colors turn to jeweled shades of red, sunlight yellows, brilliant shades of orange before they crumpled to the ground in dark browns that made your steps so much louder than need be. He had already situated his gray sweatshirt over your shoulders determinedly- “I have another sweater on babe, no worries”- and was taking such joy in the fact that he could hold your hand and run his thumb across the back of your palm without the incessant feeling of sweat and how sweaty he might be plaguing his thought as he tried to let a simple moment with you wash over him. Everything was better in the autumn. 

       Even just sitting on an abnormally large boulder in a somewhat secluded area of the vast Central Park was nicer in September. Gentle breeze, sipping hot coffee and looking out at the rest of Manhattan, your head against his shoulder and his arm around your waist. Simpler, sweeter. Peter Parker’s eyes, like fallen leaves in your favorite season and the coffee that had gone cold in its cup sitting in your hands, swept across the side of your face carefully. You took another sip of your drink before catching his gaze, a little smile crossing your face. “What’re you doing?” You nudge him slightly with the toe of your brown boot. He shrugs, eyes glancing up toward the cloud filled sky that was darkening with the passing of time. You’d both have to get going soon. 

   “Nothing, my love,” he says, smiling back. He kept smiling even when your lips were pressed against his, rather cold hands against his face and playing with the ends of his hair as you kissed him. With a joyous sigh, after you’ve pulled away, he whispers, “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?” There are shivers rolling down his spine as you raise your eyebrows, but they’re not from the cold that grows considerably as day smooths over into night. Not in the slightest. 


    December came, too, and with it was a swept in storm of snow that left noses a bitter red and nipped at the exposed faces titled up in wonder at the flurries cascading down upon them, settling on the roofs of the buildings that were plentiful in New York. With this newfound frigid weather came the early arriving yet long lasting nights that meant you had to be home before five thirty in the evening, leaving less time than usual for you to stay wrapped in the comforting warmth of one of Peter’s hugs; the boy was a hugger, and he couldn’t help it nor fight it, it was just one of those things that was engrained into his personality and shone through when he found himself in your presence. He had a habit of practically attaching himself to your hip, clingy as a boyfriend could be but utterly lovable all the same. Now that you had to be on the train immediately after school let out, he wasn’t able to be with you for hours on end the way he desired to be, so he made do with the options available to him. 

   “I put you on speaker so I can still hear you even when the phone isn’t right by my ear,” Peter speaks so softly, you’re almost sure he’s half asleep. He’s got that raspy, bedtime voice that boys slip into and it’s adorable and hot and lovely to hear all at once. He’s still shuffling around the room, though, most likely hiding his suit after just coming in through his bedroom window and getting himself ready for the school day tomorrow. 

   You twist the hem of your shirt around your finger, placing your phone on your bedside table. “I know how speaker phone works, my love. You have a coat for tomorrow, right? It’s brutal out,” you peer out your window, the glow of the lamplight making it difficult to see out into the darkened night properly, but sure enough you see the large clumps of snow falling onto the ledge of your fire escape. “And I know you’ll forget, like two days ago.” 

   “I was distracted,” he mumbles, and you can picture his face pressed against his pillow with his cheek smushed slightly. If you were there, next to him, you would’ve squished his cheeks together in that invasive way that made him want to hide his face forever. He makes sure to leave a jacket beside his newest backpack, where he’s sure to remember to grab it. 

   You laugh. “By what? Thinking ‘bout your lover Tony Stark?” He makes a disgusted groan that’s so loud you have to cover the speaker of your phone so your parents don’t hear you up late talking to him on a school night.  

   Peter rubs a hand over his face. “That’s so gross, Y/N. I just died inside.” He closes his eyes again, pulling the covers up to his chin and snuggling into them, grinning at the muffled giggles he can hear.  “Anyways, I was so distracted by your beauty that I forgot to bring a jacket, obviously.” 

   Rolling over onto your back, you fold your arms over you and hug yourself tightly because Peter, your huggable mush of a boyfriend, isn’t here to do so himself. You’re smiling so hard it’s hard to get the words out. “You don’t know what you do to me, Peter.”


   It’s thundering outside toward the end of April, pouring pouring pouring rain and Peter Parker is so, so tired. The rain makes his suit sticky and he’s practically dripping sweat by the time he reaches outside your apartment. He knows if he swings up to your floor, your window, he’ll pass out the moment he hits solid ground, but he does it anyway because he’s not supposed to be visiting this late and there’s no other way to get to you. There’s an hour or two until the rise of the sun and you’re up way too early to be considered normal, but Peter had sent you a text without realizing how sad he sounded in it until he was halfway to your apartment and reading your reply. He sounded so needy and weak and upset and he was all of those things in this moment, yeah, but he didn’t want you to see him like this. He stood on shaking legs as he crouched by your window, a soft light reflecting against your white curtains to show him that you were awake and waiting. Peter left a few soft taps on the window, yanking the mask off him and letting the rain soak through his curling hair and dampen his eyelashes. You open your window when you hear the tap and yank him inside, gently so he doesn’t wake anyone with thunderous footsteps. You already have a towel waiting for him. 

   His cheek slides against your shoulder as droplets of rain roll off him and onto your sweatshirt. He slumps against you miserably, so you’re the one holding him protectively this time, staring down at your boy and rubbing his hair with the towel to dry it. Your touch is so gentle he could fall asleep. “I’m so tired,” his voice breaks and his chest heaves. Peter shuts his eyes. He hates crying in front of people. “Not even out here,” he gestures toward his body with his eyes still closed. Then, his body shuddering against yours again, he taps the side of his head. “In here. Mentally. I’m so tired. Please, Y/N,” he sniffs in, gripping your waist and finally looking up at you beneath eyelashes clung together by what he wants you to believe is rain. “I just want- I don’t-” He sucks in a breath. “Tell me something good. Other than yourself.” Even in his darkest moments, he is sweet as he can be.

    Your finger traces down his cheek and presses gently against his lips. He quiets his ragged breathing, his head falling into your lap. “You’ll be okay, Peter. Everything’s gonna be okay.” You keep running your hands through the wet strands of hair. “I’m here for you, and you’ll be okay. Sleep, baby. Just rest.” He curls up against you. He sleeps. Spring is a time of rebirth, and in the morning the flower will bloom again stronger than it was before it had wilt. Peter Parker is strong. He wouldn’t be him if he wasn’t. 


   Summer is pleasant enough for Peter, not because of the sudden warmth that blankets the city or the bubbly laughter of the children excited to finally be leaving their classes behind, but because in the summer, he’s with you from the moment he wakes up until nearly nine o’clock at night. Summer rules for summer nights, your mother says as she determines your curfew for going places that require a ride on the train after eight. He’s never been so happy and his smile is one that rivals the beaming light of the sun that beats down on you as you order a pretzel from a stand on the corner. You two are always in the city because there’s hardly anything to do in Queens if you’re not stopping a robbery by masked Avenger wannabes, and Peter has already hurriedly explained that you can’t come on patrol with him for fear of you getting harmed in the process. Your palms are sweaty when you hold hands but no one really wants to let go. He keeps stealing pieces from your pretzel as you get distracted taking photographs of buildings and pigeons and random graffiti that you fancy when your eyes settle on it. It is summer; everything is good, blissful, perfectly serene. But then again, maybe it’s not just because of summer, it’s only a season after all, and Peter loves every season now that he thinks about it. So, maybe it’s just because of you. 

    Either way, sooner or later the northern wind will settle in again, and Peter is ready to weather the next changing of the seasons with you by his side the way it is and always has been meant to be.

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