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living-force · 7 minutes
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i want 60 thousand votes by next thursday
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living-force · 8 minutes
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Foggy’s gotten pretty decent at naming which red-themed vigilante is coming through his window in the middle of the night without even opening his eyes: Matt tries to be quiet so he doesn’t wake him up, Deadpool is talking before he even gets the window open and Peter knocks like a goddamn decent human being.
“Come in!” he yells, deciding that he won’t get out of bed until he knows if there’s an emergency or Peter just wants to raid his first aid kit and fridge.
“Sorry, Mr. Nelson,” Peter says, climbing inside and dropping lightly to the floor. “I know it’s late but I had a question.”
“Shoot, Spiderboy,” Foggy says, sitting up to see Peter lingering awkwardly close by in full Spiderman gear and oversized hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“It’s just that Mr. Murdock said that you might be willing to look over one of my essays,” Peter says, “but I kind of got distracted doing, y’know--” Peter makes a vague punching motion with a soft pow sound. “--and it’s kind of due tomorrow morning.”
“Oh my god,” Foggy says, sighing and pushing aside his sheets to get out of bed. “This is actually the least stressful thing one of you weirdos has ever asked me to do. What’s your essay about?”
“Macbeth.”
“Y’know, Matt was an English major,” Foggy says, huffing out a laugh and finding a sweatshirt to pull on before he turns on the lights. “You should probably be offended that he passed you off on me.”
“What was your major?” Peter asks.
“Business,” Foggy says. “Did I ever tell you about how my mom wanted me to be a butcher?”
“You have,” Peter says, dutifully, sitting his backpack on the floor and digging through it, “but you can tell me again, if you want.”
“You’re a good kid,” Foggy says, taking the essay when Peter finds it and hands it to him. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. Go eat while I check this bad boy out.”
"You're my hero," Peter says, fervently.
Foggy's never been called that before.
He doesn't hate it.
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living-force · 11 minutes
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4K CELEBRATION ☆ for @eddiediaz
⤷  🎥 + TASM!Peter Parker | Hands
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living-force · 12 minutes
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would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3
ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k
cw suggestive content
“Is that okay?” he whispers. 
You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 
Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 
He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 
Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 
He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 
“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 
“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 
“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 
You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 
You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 
There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 
“I really am sorry, Pete.” 
His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 
“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 
“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 
“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”
“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 
“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 
“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 
“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 
“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 
You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 
“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 
“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 
“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 
“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 
“From that statue on ESU?” 
“What? How would I do that?” 
“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 
You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 
“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 
You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 
Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 
“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  
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living-force · 29 minutes
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you came back wrong and i am racked with guilt because i cannot bear to see you like this and i should have let you rest. i loved you so much that i defied death itself but i do not think either of us are happy
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living-force · 29 minutes
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you came back wrong and i am racked with guilt because i cannot bear to see you like this and i should have let you rest. i loved you so much that i defied death itself but i do not think either of us are happy
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living-force · 1 day
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It makes me happy when they listen
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living-force · 2 days
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All the pretty bugs~
Lady Jane Prentiss- Corpse eating butterfly
Queen Agnes - Monarch butterfly
Jon Sims (witch) - Small emperor moth
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living-force · 5 days
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I never considered smokeyeyes before discovering your blog...now I can't stop considering it and how amazing it is
*slaps roof of the Gertude Agnes ship*: This bad boy fit so many dynamics inside! They are old ladies! Only one of them looks like one! They kiled multiple people Agnes called Gertrude her anchor!! Also, consider that Agnes knows Gertude way before she become what Shasa called a stone cold bitch- she was just a human
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there is so much in this ship!!
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living-force · 5 days
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Moths and Flames or 70's Smokey Eyes
the outfits
look at this and tell me it's not them
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living-force · 5 days
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@jonmartinweek
Day 9: free day/au
Cowboy au because cowboys are cool
That's it. That's the idea
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living-force · 6 days
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<Reblog to get a sword.> o()xxx[{::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>
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living-force · 6 days
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New Crow Time 🐦‍⬛🦊🌟
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living-force · 6 days
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nap time
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living-force · 6 days
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oh my favorite trope? two people who go through something so unique and agonizing and entirely beyond words that they have no choice but to create a bond that transcends all other types of love, thus acting as the sole point of understanding for the other person in a world that cannot fathom what they’ve been through
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living-force · 6 days
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This is how he waits for the cavalry to arrive whenever he gets caught/trapped on a mission
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living-force · 6 days
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characters who dig themselves out of their graves (whether literal or metaphorical) are at the top of the list. nothing beats a character who should have died but didn't and comes back to haunt their own life and the world around them, benevolent or violent it doesn't matter, it's enthralling either way
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