#pls accept this as an apology for my absence the past two days

[reinerispretty]

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt1

hello and welcome to my new fic :) i hope u have enjoyed urselves and i hope u like it!! thank u very much for reading!! pls share if u can but no worries if u can’t :)

pt2

Y/N) let out a gasp, her breath clouding in the chilly air. She had heard rumors of the return of the Avatar, an Air Nomad boy who travelled around on the back of a flying bison. She had never anticipated that they were true. 

“Early morning, rise and shine!” A hard hand pounded at the bedroom door.

(Y/N) groaned in her bed, turning over and covering her head with a pillow. The servant outside sighed. “You have to get up, Princess. You have lessons today.” 

She opened her eyes and stared at the white walls ahead of her. Bare and bleak. She tossed her blankets to the side and quickly pulled on her warmest fur robe and slippers before padding down the hall to the washroom.The servants had readied a tub of hot water for her. She inhaled the steam as she set herself inside and let the servants begin their work. They scrubbed every inch of her body, even the bottoms of her feet (and it took every ounce of her strength not to kick one of them in the face), and combed and washed her hair. They pulled it back into her usual style of two braids and dressed her in her warmest navy-blue coats. One of the servants smiled at her as she tied her into her garments. 

“It’s cold today,” the woman said. (Y/N) gave her a tight smile but didn’t speak. The servant’s own smile fell. She must be new, (Y/N) noticed, because she tried to talk to her. (Y/N) hadn’t spoken all morning, and it was rare if she did. In the past she had been labelled as a difficult child, so she decided it was easier if she just didn’t speak to the servants. She rarely spoke to anyone, really. 

She was escorted to her healing lessons once she was finished getting dressed. (Y/N) was the only waterbender in her family, so healing lessons were the only duty that took up the majority of her time. She sat in the hut quietly, like always, did her work, received good marks, and then left. After her lessons, she was free to do whatever she pleased. But there wasn’t much to do at all, so she walked around the city. 

Sometimes she watched Master Pakku train his pupils. She chose a spot on top of one of the highest buildings, with a good view, where she wouldn’t be seen. Her body itched to try the moves the boys were learning but it wasn’t allowed. Doing so could possibly get her banished from her tribe, and while she didn’t enjoy life there, she had nowhere else to go. So, she chose to watch instead. After watching, she walked around the canals. She greeted the people she encountered with a solemn nod of her head. (Y/N) was the serious one. No one tried to engage her in pleasantries and she was thankful for it. 

“(Y/N)!” A voice shouted as she walked down the icy sidewalks. She sighed, stopped, and turned around to face the source of the voice. Hahn skidded to a stop in front of her, a bright smile on his face. 

(Y/N) didn’t like Hahn. In fact, she detested him. When they were children, he would push her around when they were playing games and pull on her hair. He’d call her names and whenever she tried to bring it up to anyone, they would shrug and give her the average, “Boys will be boys,” answer. She knew it wasn’t right, how their tribe idolized Hahn, and she knew he certainly didn’t deserve it.

“Did you hear the good news?” 

“No, but I have a feeling you’ll tell me.” 

“Your feeling’s right. Yue accepted my proposal. We’ll be married sometime after her sixteenth birthday.” 

She felt the anger rising inside of her but kept her expression calm. She turned back around and continued on her walk. Hahn followed and walked in stride with her. 

“I take it my sister has had a continuous lack of judgement.” 

“What do you mean?” When she didn’t answer, he shrugged. “I’m psyched to be married to the Chief’s daughter. Does this mean I’ll be chief one day?” 

(Y/N) stopped once again and turned to face him. “Hahn, believe me when I tell you that I’d rather choke on a thousand sea prunes than ever let you be chief.” He scoffed. 

“Just goes to show I picked the right sister.” He walked right past her, his shoulder bumping into hers and knocking her off her balance. Once she had righted herself, she headed in the direction she had come. Back to their igloo, where her family would be getting ready for dinner. 

(Y/N) stormed through the igloo to find her family was already getting ready to eat their meal. Her mother looked up at her and smiled brightly. “(Y/N)! We weren’t sure if you were going to be joining us today. I’m glad you could make it.” 

She ignored her mother and instead faced Yue directly, whose eyes were downcast as she stared at her plate of food. “You’re marrying him?” She demanded. “Out of all the men in this tribe, you pick the dumbest, most insufferable--” 

“Hahn proposed to me,” Yue said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I said yes.” 

“For what reason? You could have literally any guy in this tribe, Yue, but you say yes to Hahn? A walking pile of sea sludge?” 

“(Y/N), that’s enough,” Her father said, his voice stern. She sat down at the table but made her mood obvious as she aggressively reached for the food the servants had laid out. “I won’t have you disrespecting your future brother-in-law.” 

“The only thing that’s disrespectful is that Yue’s marrying him,” (Y/N) grumbled. Yue slammed her hand on the table. 

“Why do you have to question every decision I make?” 

“Why do you continue to make stupid decisions?” (Y/N) knew she had gone too far as soon as she said it, but it was too late. Yue excused herself from the table and exited the room, leaving an icy chill in the air in her absence. (Y/N) prodded at the noodles on her plate. She had lost her appetite. 

“You need to apologize to Yue,” Her father said as he took a sip of wine. “Your words were not very kind.” 

“They were the truth,” (Y/N) sighed. “Why does she have to marry him, Father? He’s horrible.” 

“Hahn is a strong boy who is well-respected in the tribe. We need someone like that to help your sister when your mother and I are gone.” 

“She has me.” (Y/N) stood and excused herself from the table. She walked to Yue’s room only to find the door had been shut. She gave it a weak knock. “Yue? Can you hear me?” 

“Go away,” Her sister said from inside. (Y/N) frowned. Her voice had been jagged and watery. Yue was crying, and (Y/N) was the one who made her. So (Y/N) did what she was told and walked down the hall to her own room. She could apologize to Yue in the morning. 

It hurt her to know that she had made her sister cry. It hadn’t been her intention at all, it was just that sometimes her words of care came out wrong. Yue may have been her older sister, but ever since she was born, (Y/N) had always felt a strong need to protect her. Yue was the kindest person she knew, which resulted in a lot of people trying to take advantage of her. (Y/N) wouldn’t allow it. She stood at Yue’s side always to make sure that no one approached her for the wrong reasons. Being the princesses of the tribe meant that it was hard to determine who was actually trying to be nice to them and who was searching for something to gain. (Y/N) had developed the skill of judging others’ intentions a long time ago, but Yue always tried to see the good in people. 

That is why (Y/N) was so angry when she found out Yue had accepted Hahn’s proposal. She knew her sister didn’t care for that idiot, but she also knew that Yue cared deeply for the tribe. She would do whatever she could to protect it, even if it meant marrying the worst person ever. 

(Y/N) changed out of her day clothes and undid her braid. She sat in front of her mirror and brushed out her hair before climbing into bed. She stared at the ceiling of the igloo for what felt like hours. 

She wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep, but (Y/N) sat up quickly when she heard the horn. Horns meant something was happening, something exciting. She hopped out of bed and ran to Yue’s room, not even bothering to put on her robes, but her sister was nowhere to be found. (Y/N) pursed her lips and made her way to the tallest part of the igloo. It was slippery and required some skilled climbing, but (Y/N) was no stranger to the task. She sat atop the rounded portion and watched as a flying bison and three travelers landed inside the wall of the city. 

(Y/N) let out a gasp, her breath clouding in the chilly air. She had heard rumors of the return of the Avatar, an Air Nomad boy who travelled around on the back of a flying bison. She had never anticipated that they were true. Living in an area as secluded as the Northern Water Tribe, all people did was make up rumors to keep themselves entertained. She had heard enough about herself to last a lifetime. 

(Y/N) felt her mind race as she tried to anticipate the days’ events with the addition of the Avatar. It was Yue’s birthday today, so a great feast had been planned. She only hoped that the Avatar and his friends would be in attendance. 

(Y/N) slid down the side of the igloo and went back inside, where the servants instantly bombarded her with warm clothes and hot teas. “Are you crazy?” One of them asked as they led her to the washroom. “It’s your sister’s birthday and you’re trying to catch a cold?” 

(Y/N) exhaled a breath out of her nose, but let them say as they pleased as they began preparing her for the day. She had learned a long time ago how to drown them out. Usually they weren’t talking to her, but at her, so there was no need for her to even speak. 

As she stepped out of the warm water, a chill traveled up her spine, lifting the hairs at the nape of her neck. It was different than the normal cold air that came with living here. This wind seemed like it brought change. 

---

Tag List!!

@beifongsss , @aimee1602 , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @mdgrdians

#atla #the last airbender #sokka x reader #zuko x reader #aang x reader #sokka #katara #aang #toph #zuko #azula #iroh #suki #momo #appa #writing #fanfiction #i posted this at 3:26 am eastern why am i like this

[khadij-al-kubra]

Ticklish

Pairing: Logince (platonic or romantic)

Characters: Logan, Roman

Words: 1411

Author’s Note: A short fic I wrote a while back based off this post. I realized i’d only written/posted it in the reblogs, so i thought i’d make it’s own post.

AO3

It had been a rare quiet afternoon in the Mindscape. Roman was off on one of his quests in the Imagination, Virgil was holed up in his room, and Thomas had summoned Patton to help him with a social event. So Logan had chosen to take advantage of the peace to curl up with a good book.

Today’s selection was a variety of science fiction short stories from “The Time Traveler’s Almanac,” a favorite of his. He has been captivated by a Ray Bradbury story but paused in his page, taking a moment to enjoy the delicious solitude. The sun shone through the living room window, the thermometer was at a comfortable temperature, and he was halfway through a cup of jasmine tea. Logan took a deep content breath and smiled. So peaceful…

SLAM

“I’m baaack!” sand Roman, bursting through the door. “Did you miss me?”

Logan groaned. ‘So much for peace and quiet.’ “Greetings Roman. I take it your ‘quest’ went well?” he asked, attempting to be polite.

Much as the creative side aroused his ire, the four of them did live under one roof. It was wise to attempt maintaining some semblance of civility.

“Why of course. I always emerge triumphant! Still, it is good to know that I was missed,” Roman smiled, his teeth practically glinting. “So, did i miss anything? Where are padre and the stormcloud?”

“Patton is busy with Thomas and Virgil is in his room. I meanwhile have been here reading all afternoon. Nothing of note happened in your absence, other than the interrupted quiet upon your rather boisterous entrance.”

Logan adjusted his glasses and gave Roman a pointed look. Apparently the creative side didn’t get the hint. Instead he chose to plop right next to Logan on the couch. Rather close might he add.

“Oh hush sub-astute teacher. So,” Roman leaned over Logan’s shoulder to peek at the page. “Whatcha reading anyways?”

“A science fiction story,” said Logan.

“You? Fiction? That seems out of your realm.”

“I’m not opposed to delving outside of my usual genres from time to time. Besides, I happen to appreciate well written prose.”

“So what’s it about?”

Ordinarily Logan would take any opportunity to share knowledge with someone else. However he has rather enjoyed his previous solitude and frankly wanted to just get back to reading in peace. Besides, he was just getting to the good part when Roman had popped in. Nothing worse than being interrupted during the big climax.

“Roman, if you’re so curious I shall lend you my book later. For now though I’d prefer to get back to the story.” Logan lifted the book up to his face.

“AWw come on Logan! Just tell me.”

Then Roman poked him in the side. It was only a light finger jab, but it had been right beneath Logan’s ribs, a.k.a. his hidden proverbial Achilles Heel. Before he could hold it in, Logan let out a giggle. He shut up and sat up straight as a meerkat. Too late. Roman had heard.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Logan cleared his suddenly high voice. “Nothing at all.”

“Logan…are you ticklish?”

“……no.”

Logan slowly turned to Roman. To his dread the creative Prince had the most villainous grin plastered to his face. He let out an ominous giggle and held up his fingers, wiggling them in front of the logical side’s flushed face.

Oh no.

Logan didn’t need Virgil around to know his fight or flight reflexes were kicking in. Fast as he could Logan fled from the living room, Roman tailing behind.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME, FIEND!”

“I’m gonna getcha Logan!”

“Nooooo!”

Roman chased him around the kitchen. He chased him up the stairs and past the bedrooms. Logan almost lost him outside the bathroom when he slid under tho taller side’s legs. Logan had considered shouting to Virgil for help, hoping that the anxious side would surely come to his rescue against a common enemy. However when he passed Virgil’s room he could hear music blaring loudly from the other side. Not the usual kind that signaled Virgil was having a panic attack, but even so there was no way he’d be able to hear Logan. Just as Logan was debating on whether or not to slide down the banister he felt Roman wrap his arms around his torso. Roman pulled Logan away from the stairs and then…oh the torture.

“Tickle-tickle-tickle!” said Roman as trailed fingers lightly up Logan’s sides.

Logan couldn’t fight against the ticklish sensations. They set him into a racoucious laughter that left him breathless. He felt himself sinking to the floor beneath Roman’s phalangial assault, taking the princely side down with him.

“Ro-ro- ROMAN! HA! P-pl-PLEASE AHA-HA!I ca-can’t BREATHE!” Logan laughed, tears running from his eyes. “Plea- STOP!!”

Mercifully so, he did. Logan fought for air, taking several deep breaths. Finally, after a trail of weak laughs, Logan was able to compose himself again. He glared at Roman fiercely. He despisedbeing tickled! Not only was it an awkward sensation that forced him to show laughter when nothing was amusing, but it made him lose all sense of composure. It was rather embarrassing.

“Don’t ever do that again!” said Logan, his tone pencil sharp.

Roman winced. His face shifted from amused to genuinely sorry. Logan almost felt sorry for his harsh tone.

“I…I’m sorry Logan. Truly,” said Roman, his voice soft and hesitant. “I didn’t think you’d mind that much.”

“Well i do.”

“Patton usually likes it when i have tickle fights with him.”

“I am not Patton.”

“No…you’re right. I-I am sorry Logan. I just…really needed a laugh after my last quest. And ordinarily I go to Patton for that, or even Virgil if I can rope him into playful banter. I did not mean to violate your personal space in such a way. It was…wrong of me.”

Logan could hear the genuine remorse in Roman’s voice. He took a deep breath. “…Apology accepted Roman. Just…don’t ever do it again.”

“I promise!” Roman held a hand over his hear and raised his right hand as well.

They sat on the carpeted floor for a while in silence.Ironic given that was what Logan had been trying to regain in the first place.

“You know,” Roman said , looking at him with a small smile, “you have quite a nice laugh. Shame I so rarely get to hear it. Truly.”

Logan didn’t understand why his face suddenly felt warmer. Perhaps it was a side effect of being tickled. Still, he cleared his throat before responding.

“Well…thank you Roman. That’s flattering, i supposed.”

“So,” Roman lay on his side looking up at him. “What was that story you were reading about anyway?”

“Oh. Well, it was, in short, a story exemplifying the repercussions of the butterfly effect. Quite good actually.”

“Sounds like it. Would you…” Roman looked away, blushing. “Would you read it to me?”

Logan stared at him baffled. “Why would you wish to read with me?”

“Honestly? Because, like i said, it was a difficult quest. One that had left me tired and, well, rather down. And the two things i need most to make me feel better after something like that is a) a good laugh, and b) some peaceful relaxation. And i can think of nothing more peaceful that hearing you reading aloud. Unless…you’d rather be left alone.”

Something in Logan softened at the sincerity of Roman’s explanation. It was only then that he realized just how drained the other truly looked.

“I supposed that would be an adequate way to spend the remainder of the day.” Roman sat back up, beaming at him. “However, notickling. Do not even entertain the thought.”

“You have my word!”

So they went back downstairs and sat together on the couch. Logan picked the almanac back up and went back to the beginning of the story so he could catch Roman up on the tale. As promised, Roman did not attempt to tickle Logan again. However, he did lean against Logan’s side as the logical manifestation read aloud in a soft yet steady voice; a gentle smile of easement resting upon his handsome face. To Logan’s surprise though, he didn’t mind. He still had the light shining gently through the window, a freshly brewed cup of tea, a good book and comfortable quiet. Perhaps, he mused, solitude wasn’t necessarily needed to feel at peace.

General Tag List: @quoth-the-sparrow @altruistic-skittles @em-be-lievable @justisaisfine @broadwaytheanimatedseries​ @thekeytohappiness-is-you @jynxlovesluck @queer-human-being​ @phlying-squirrel @ab-artist @grey-lysander @a-valorous-choice​ @xx-fandom-potato-xx @impatentpending @book-of-charlie @randomslasher @tinkslittlebelle @insanelycoolish  @ironwoman359​ @icecoldparadise @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper​ @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6 @hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox​ @smokeyrutilequartz @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton​ @notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides​ @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @unikornavenger @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @backatthebein @mephonic  @paperghastly @ravenclawangst @iamtrashcans​ @loganberrysanders @icequeenoriginal @ierindoodles @a-new-witch-in-learning @punsterterry @your-average-pangirl  @goldteethandacurseforthistown  @dragonsight9​ 

#KDsWriting #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #tickling

[petersmparker]

Clutch pt 4 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Following Mr. Stark's advice, Peter decides to take a chance on the friendship he wants so badly.

Word Count: 1432

A/N: I finally got out of the fuckin wifi-less woods only to have my laptop shit itself so if there are any ugly errors in this bc of the fact that I had to use my phone pls forgive. don’t forget to let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list!!

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

You're still staring up at him from the ground of the alleyway when Peter shoves his phone back into the pocket in the waistline of his suit. The expression on your face has gone from shocked anger to vaguely-amused surprise. People glance curiously around you from the main sidewalk as you wave the bottle above your head teasingly, in one hand, the other holding a brown paper bag. When he finally untraps himself and manages to pull together his nerve, Peter jumps down from the fire escape. The movement is followed with your eyes, and when his feet hit the concrete, you take a step forward. You hand him the now-empty bottle. 

Peter rubs the back of his head uncomfortably as he takes the container from you. Your shoes and pant legs are wet from the impact. With the cooler fall weather, he imagines that the feeling of wet denim isn’t pleasant. You follow his gaze to your feet and attempt to tap the water off of your sneakers. When you look back up to his face, he realizes that it’s been an absurd amount of time for him not to have apologized yet.

“I’m kind of the biggest moron, huh,” he says in lieu of an apology, astounded by himself.

You let out a surprised laugh. Peter's heart leaps in his chest.

“If we were rating morons based on clumsiness, I don’t think the web-swinging, wall-running, urban-parkouring superhero Spider-Man could be classified as the biggest.”

“I beg to differ,” Peter responds, throwing the bottle into the nearest dumpster, “You don’t have to live with him.”

“Fair point,” you  agree, “but it’s not like I’ve been given the opportunity.”

The way you smile throws a wrench in his heart’s ability to function. He’s quick to try to dismiss the look, knowing that he’s probably overthinking your lighthearted comment. Part of him worries that he overthinks everything you say.

You look curiously up to the fire escape where he’d been sitting. Gesturing up to it, you ask, “What were you doing up there before you decided to throw trash at me?”

He elects to disregard your phrasing to save himself from having to acknowledge just how embarrassed he still is. “I was taking a break to have a snack.”

“And the whispering?”

“That was Mr. Stark,” he says before nervously adding, “Did you hear me?”

“Nope. No worries. When you say Mr. Stark-”

“Yeah. I mean that one.”

Your eyebrows rise. It occurs to him that most people aren’t aware of Spider-Man’s connection to the world-famous Iron Man. His growing popularity came purely from his daily crime-fighting and well-doing. After all, Peter had managed to escape the events of the snap without too much attention drawn to him by the media. He’s sure that most don’t even know he was involved in the fight to begin with, despite the fact that, technically speaking, he’s an Avenger. One that operates separate from the group, but still no less. In spite of his desire to become a big name in superheroing like his idol, he was comfortable with the anonymity this afforded him. It allowed him the possibility of a few more years of normalcy outside of being Spider-Man.

You nod approvingly. “That makes sense. You’re an impressive guy. If Iron Man didn’t have you in his ring, that’d just be questionable.”

It kind of feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Peter knows that you can’t see his pleased smile, so he attempts to make up for it with his tone when he says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course.” You stick your hand into the bag to grab yourself a french fry, before offering him the bag.

He glances at the surroundings, considering. While you were receiving a few curious looks here and there, Peter prides himself on being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and it isn’t out of the ordinary to see him stopping to converse with civilians. However, that doesn’t mean it would be smart to lift his mask to eat with an audience on every side. It would be a dumb risk. Realistically, it hadn’t been the best decision to have done it previously around you, even, but. . .

It was too late to go back on that crush-influenced decision. He might as well take advantage of it now.

Peter nods his acceptance of the offer, but when you hold out the bag further, he gives a quick nod upward. “Not here,” he explains, quietly, “Take the fire escape to the roof. I’ll meet you up there.”

He takes an indirect route to swing his way up so as not to arouse any possible suspicion. Because of this, you make it to the roof before he does, and by the time he arrives you've taken a seat on the air conditioning venting. You pull your feet up to sit with your legs crossed, and set out two containers of fries on a couple of napkins. Peter takes a seat next to you, but straddles the vent so he can face you. He laughs when you greet him with a teasing, “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, taking off his glove and lifting his mask over his mouth so he can eat a fry. “You just happened to have two orders of fries?”

The reddening of your face is so pretty that Peter's breath catches. You push your hair behind your ear with your free hand. “I see you around a lot more now, don’t I? So, I kind of figured that it can’t hurt to be prepared in case you make an appearance. And hey, if you don’t show up, I can just give them away. Or eat them.”

Peter grins. “Looks like I need to start contributing to the snack fund, then.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure, rotating yourself to face him. “I’m happy to have the company, especially just for the cost of a dollar menu fry.”

His smile softens as a bit of concern builds in him. Tentatively, he asks, “You know I don’t just talk to you because you give me things, right?”

“I hadn’t been too concerned about it. It’s nice to hear confirmation though. Either way, I guess it’s just cool to have someone around. Thank you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I really like having you around, too.”

The stare you settle Peter with is simultaneously comforting and unsettling. While your gaze is decidedly soft, his skin begins to heat and tingle. Though he knows you cannot conceivably see his eyes through the mask, he finds himself feeling like you're staring past his eyes and into his thoughts. I like you, he thinks, on the off chance that you're doing the impossible, I like you so much.

His thought goes without response, as expected. However, the absence of it isn’t felt too strongly. Peter is happy to dwell upon the pleasantness of your meeting as you share the snack and exchange jokes and stories. Long after the fries have been eaten and the trash crumbled into a ball, you stay. When the space between them is cleared, Peter takes the opportunity to casually scoot ever-so-slightly closer. Maybe he imagines it, but he thinks that perhaps you do the same thing.

When the sun starts to set, the orangey glow illuminates your hair with gold and accentuates the sparkle of your eyes. He had left his mask up to allow you to see part of his expressions, but when you finally state that it's time for you to go, he pulls it down over his mouth. You doesn’t pause in her speech as you reach over to smooth down a wrinkled portion of the mask.

For a long moment, your hand settles against his Peter's jaw. He stares, dumbfounded, at your affectionate expression until you excuse yourself and start to climb down the fire escape. Your goodbye echoes around him, covering the sound of his own within his mind, and he sits on the vents for several minutes in a stupor as he thinks about the feeling of your palm against his face.

It's nearly the perfect end to the day. Peter's first time seeking your friendship without humoring his guilt, and he gets to go home with the feeling of your hand still burning into his jaw. What more could he have asked for?

The sound of gunshots cut through Peter's euphoria and shake him back into reality. He jumps from his spot, his heightened senses alerting him to the direction of the crisis, and gets back to work.

Tag list

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland​ @deathofthethrones​ @souvenirsvisuels​ @legendarydazekitten

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker series #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel fanfiction

[racingtowardsaredlight]

2, 20, 26 with harry holland

no problem at all dear! Hope your concert goes/went well! Also I’m not educated on dance terms especially in ballet so I’m using my knowledge from watching Dance Academy so pls bare with me

2. “Are you sure about this?”

20. “I was told to give you this”

26. “I’m adding this to the list of reasons why I need therapy”

“Are you sure about this?” you ask, looking at your boyfriend with a nervous expression. He had suggested you practice with him as your partner instead of your actual dance partner. Harry, your loving boyfriend and all around best friend, was notoriously bad at dancing so it was safe to assume that you were a little nervous about him trying to dance at your level. “Yes dear, I’m sure. Practicing with someone as shit as me should reassure you that you are fantastic.” He stated, twirling you around with his hands. 

Practicing for two more hours with Harry as your pas de deux partner showcased just how good you were and how - uh- new Harry was. Most of the time was spent laughing as Harry found points to tickle you and making up new moves that weren’t even remotely close to ballet dancing. He especially loved twirling you around, watching as you balanced almost seamlessly in your pointe shoes, a true ballerina in his eyes. Your stress was melting away as the night went on, soon becoming excited for the concert the next day.

When you awoke the next morning, the all too familiar ache began in your stomach. Your nerves were getting the better of you but you pushed them away. You checked your phone, texts coming in from friends and family telling you to do your best and have fun. A particularly sweet message came from Tom, Harry’s oldest brother, that just read “Turn nerves into excitement” with a small smiley face at the end. Sending thank yous to everyone, you got your things around and spent the day being calm and gearing up before you headed to the venue to warm up with your dance program.

As seats filled in the venue, you peaked behind the curtains to watch for your family and Harry’s. Being close to the entire Holland fam, you invited them to your concert and to your surprise, they all showed up. Except for Harry. Before you could fully dwell on the absence of your boyfriend, a hand tapped on your shoulder. Turning around you saw a stage hand offering up an envelope “I was told to give you this.” You took the envelope and thanked him, opening up to find a card with a ballerina on it. The card read “Good Luck to a Beautiful Ballerina” and you opened it up to find a note and piece of old looking, baby blue ribbon. 

The writing was scribbled but still legible, “Love, I’ve kept this since the day I met you when you nearly ran me down on the street because you were late to practice. After you left, I noticed that a piece of ribbon fell off of your old pointe shoes and for whatever reason, I picked it up and kept. I keep it with me at all times, tucked away in my pocket or tied to my wrist when we’re apart, just so I know I have you close. This little piece of ribbon means home to me because it’s my little piece of you. It’s brought me good luck and confidence so I feel you must have it tonight. Remember that being on that stage is no different than when you dance with me at home. You’re my perfect ballerina always. I love you, Harry” 

You wiped the tears from your eyes as you read the sweet message and took out the ribbon to admire it. You could vividly remember the day it tore from shoe, running to get to practice on time and slamming into a curly haired boy as you rushed around a corner. A hurried apology and a sweet smile made you fall for the curly headed cutie and you risked trouble for being so late just so you could get his name and number. Tying the ribbon into your bun, you tucked it in so no one could see the color. Your coach had very strict rules on uniformity and you did not want to be chastised moments after feeling so loved. You couldn’t wait to tackle Harry when your concert was over and tell him over and over again how much you loved him. It was then that you remembered that Harry wasn’t seated with his family when you checked. 

Panic consuming you once again, you looked past the curtains again to see that his seat was still empty. He couldn’t have forgotten could he? As you rushed to get to your phone to call him, your coach stopped you. “No going back to the dressing rooms. It’s time to line up and get ready.” “But my bo-” “No going back to the dressing rooms! I will not have tardiness ruin my show.” She spoke, taking you by the shoulder to scoot you into place. You huffed at her actions and tried to push the worst from your mind. Harry sent you the card so obviously he didn’t forget and his entire family was here so there’s no way they didn’t remind him. He had been out filming scenes for a new project earlier in the day so maybe he got stuck somewhere? Maybe his producers made him stay late to get some more shots? You were upset but reasoned with yourself as best as possible. It wasn’t the end of the world and that little blue ribbon you had tucked into your bun reminded you that he was with you anyways. You were sure that Harry most likely called you to try and tell you he couldn’t come but you just couldn’t get to your phone in time. It would be okay.

Taking the stage, there was still no sign of Harry in the crowd. His brothers sat next to the empty seat and smiled and cheered when they saw you. Sam, who sat next to the vacant seat, shrugged his shoulders with an apologetic look. He must have known that Harry couldn’t make it but maybe he was trying. You put your brain to rest as the music began and danced like you did with Harry. You had fun and did your best and in the end, the crowd went wild. You and your partner bowed and exited the stage, hugging each other tight when you made it backstage. Not a move was out of place and you both looked fantastic. 

After the show ended and you had changed into your party dress, you headed out to the front of house to meet and greet the people you invited. You smiled a little sadly when Harry’s family came to greet you, with still no sign of your boyfriend. You accepted their praises and cheers with thanks and hugs when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. “Excuse me miss, you were absolutely exceptional, might I ask if you have a boyfriend?” The familiar voice spoke, prompting you to turn around expecting a fellow dancer only to be greeted by your loving boyfriend.

“Harry!” you shout as you jump into his arms, delivering a smack to his shoulder when he laughed. “I thought you didn’t come! Where the hell were you?! I looked and didn’t see you anywhere!” He set you down and kissed the top of your head. “I hid out behind the curtains after I had the card delivered, I was hoping to surprise you before the show backstage but your coach scooted you away before I could and then I just didn’t have time to get back to my seat. You did exceptionally well though and you weren’t nervous at all so I feel like your worrying over my absence actually helped you not to be nervous. So… you’re welcome?” You rolled your eyes and laughed at your idiot boyfriend, grinning as replied “I’m adding this to list of reasons why I need therapy. You’re going to give me a heart attack one day you div.” He chuckled as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “Yeah but I’m your div.” He stated, you rolling your eyes once more, grinning and speaking, “That you are, Harry Holland, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Hope you liked it!

#harry holland #harry holland blurb #harry holland curls #harry holland x reader #harry holland fluff #my curly haired king #my curly haired king blurbs #my curly haired king blurb

[gfwatch]

HCs for a reader who was in a poly relationship with Moira and Mercy, but once Moira was kicked out of Blackwatch, the reader had to choose between the two of them? Like how they would feel if the reader stayed with them versus going with the other? Pls and thank you~~~

i’m such a sucker for moira moicy omg. sorry this is so goddamn longalso ANGST? IN MY INBOX? this was REALLY REALLY fun to write

Backdrop

Moira’s been distant, lately. Angela feels it, and so do you. She tries to comfort you in any way she can, but after a while, the medic wants to have a talk with you. She sits you down one evening to have a serious conversation. She looks more tired than usual. You wonder where Moira is, then try to ignore her absence. She’s been really busy or something, you assume. You and Angela try not to bother Moira while she works.

Angela sits beside you on the couch and gently takes your hand. Schatz… I don’t know if this relationship is working. You feel yourself freeze up. She pauses. I don’t mean you. You’ve been so sweet to me! She gently strokes the back of your hand with a finger. It’s just… Moira. She’s… She’s been absent a lot in your life, and I see her all the time. She won’t take any visitors that aren’t explicitly work-related, and I… I don’t know if she wants to see us like she used to.

It hurts. You both loved Moira, but Angela clearly knew that something was going to change. Angela sighs. I know you don’t want to hear this. For a long time, I wanted to believe that she’d come back to us soon, but… She lets go of your hand. She’s been hurting herself to get the results she needs. She’s been doing awful, unethical things just for a sample. I… I want to be worried, but I’m just becoming horrified. She takes a deep breath. I just want to believe that everything will be okay.

The door opens and you two see Moira, who widens her eyes when she sees the two of you. She looks tired and unhappy. She quickly glances away. I… I see you two have been talking. She fidgets a little bit. Well… It seems that I’ll be leaving much sooner than I expected. You glance over at Angela, who looks at her lap. She seems almost resigned.

You know I can’t go with you. Angela looks pained as she says it, but Moira looks even more hurt. Moira manages a nod, agreeing. I didn’t think you’d take to the idea. Truthfully, she doesn’t expect you to come with her. Angela’s the one with a currently stable and safe job, not her. Moira doesn’t even know where she’ll be spending the night. It’ll be hard for you if you came with her. Moira clears her throat, and you just barely catch her voice crack towards the end. Excuse me. I’ll be packing my things.

Choosing Moira

Moira stops. Don’t joke around about that. She’s hurt and thinks you aren’t serious. I’m leaving effective immediately, and I won’t have any distractions preventing me from packing. She does this all the time, trying to claim you and Angela are distractions or annoying, but she doesn’t really think so. Moira just finds it easier to distance herself, rather than telling the truth and embracing your affection. You touch her hand.

She feels surprised, but loved. She would never have expected one of the loves of her life to follow her anywhere. It’s not that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she’s always felt like she’s second-rate, or someone’s second choice. It’s nice to be your first pick. Still, it hurts her that she’s taking you away from Angela, away from this stable life you three have had. If you come with me, you might not be able to go back. She still feels a bit bad that you’re throwing this nice and domestic life away to be with her.

Angela’s hurt. It’s hard to look at her as her lower lip quivers. Y-You’re leaving with Moira…? She didn’t expect you to leave. I… I thought you’d stay with me. We could be safe and stable together. But… Her bright blue eyes start to well up with tears. I’m losing both loves of my life in one day. She won’t accept much comforting. Truthfully, she’s upset that the situation is making you choose. T-There must be another way…

Angela helps you pack a little. At first, she leaves the room to figure things out on her own. She doesn’t want to see you or Moira for a little while. She soon returns, looking dejected. She won’t let you hold her hand or touch her very much. She looks almost disappointed when the two of you brush hands. I’m sorry. It’s hard for her to look you in the eyes.

She doesn’t say very much until you’re all packed up. Moira tries to apologize and reconcile with Angela, but she won’t even glance at her. Angela manages a nod at you. I hope you made a decision you won’t regret. She hugs you goodbye. It’s brief and awkward, and she quickly pulls away before she decides she can’t let go. She’s going to miss how that feels. If anything happens, you can still call me. She still wants to be supportive, but it’s hard to say if your relationship will ever be the same.

Choosing Mercy

Angela takes your hand, squeezing gently. I’m sorry. If there’s something I can do… She reaches out, but Moira walks past you. It seems like she’s trying to ignore you because she’s upset, but she doesn’t want either of you to be any closer to her than you already are. She feels like she’s thrown away a perfect life, though it’s to follow her dream. Why would you leave a happy life with Angela to be with dangerous, controversial Moira?

Angela and Moira have had their differences, but it doesn’t mean that they don’t love one another. Angela grabs Moira’s arm. Where will you go? Do you really think that we’re going to let you walk out of that door, out of our lives? She’s frustrated at the situation. Moira shrugs her off. Get off of me, Ziegler. I’ll be fine on my own. I always am. You both know that Moira’s upset, and try to comfort her. Moira won’t let you. She believes that you don’t have to care for her. That no one deserves a punishment like that.

Moira’s trying not to feel hurt. She seems more apathetic and irritable, if anything, but doesn’t really act out on it, unless you keep trying to insist that there’s something that you can do to keep everyone together. Damn it, don’t you understand? Overwatch doesn’t want me any more. They don’t want my work, so they’re suggesting I leave! She immediately feels bad that she yelled at you. I’m sorry. I… I don’t like this, either.

Moira won’t let you help her pack. She glares at you if you get in her way. I don’t need more distractions. I have enough to do. She catches you holding one of her favorite ties and pulls if out of your hand. Don’t touch that. I can do this by myself. She knows that you liked how that tie looked on her, and it makes her sad to have this be the last memory with it.

She finds that being harsh is easier than being loving in her last moments. She kind of hopes that if she’s less appealing towards the end of her time with you, it’ll be easier for you to forget about her. Still, she says goodbye. She glances at you, looking regretful for a moment. She manages a nod. I hope she makes you happy.  Later that night, when she sits in a hotel room alone, she cries. She hates being alone. At the same time, you find her favorite tie, the one from earlier, sitting on the bed. She left it for you.

#Overwatch #overwatch x reader #moira x reader #mercy x reader

[scftkiss]

my reasoning for being absent this past week.

hey. it’s been a while since i’ve actually been on unfortunately. but i wanted to come on and say why i haven’t, what’s been going on, etc. as a warning, i will say this now, i will be speaking about about assisted death   /   suicide. due to not potentially wanting to trigger anyone, i will be putting anything past this point under a keep reading.

my absence and the reasoning for it actually started a few weeks ago, but i’ll say a month to be safe. i really tried to stay positive no matter what was happening in my life, no matter how much i felt like everything was suffocating me. i knew my grandmother was terribly sick when my aunt and uncle took her to Alberta with them, we was getting dementia and it caused her moments where not only would she lash out on my mother, but almost anyone around her. it was getting difficult, straining our family, my family at home. at the time   (   this being years ago   )   the only options were to put her into a home for elderly or get her to live in our house, which the first option was a no go, the second just couldn’t happen, none of us would have a proper life anymore. however, this was years ago, we all knew nothing could possibly get better.

it isn’t until maybe a few months ago did i learn from my mother and aunt that my grandmother’s cancer came back, it’s all over, she’s in so much pain, there’s so much wrong with her. what i didn’t know, is that my grandmother’s doctors had given her a few options to deal with the cancer. it was radiation   (   something she never wanted to do   )   or assisted death   /   suicide. she’s always said she wanted to die, even in front of me when i was much younger and probably shouldn’t of heard. this would be her chance, to end all the pain, the suffering. and apparently with a sound mind, she said yes, she wanted to die. i didn’t know this until early last month, it fucking devastated me and it still does. i’ve always been so close with her, i only have my grandmothers left. 

just a few days ago i was given the choice of staying home for nearly two weeks with my dog while my mother and father drove to montreal and flew to alberta or for my dad to stay home with me. they gave me a few days to think over it, us not knowing when we would get the call that my grandmother is in the hospital and having to rush over to alberta. i realized that if i didn’t go, the guilt would eat away at me. out of either of my grandmothers’ the one on my mother’s side was who i was always close with. so.. a few days ago i had decided when the time comes, i’ll be going and staying in alberta for however long we needed to stay, to cope. and i’ve been taking this week as a way to try and deal with my thoughts, my panic attacks, all my mental health issues. i’ve been taking this time of not rping on tumblr and being here properly to come to the fact that i need to be there when it happens, even if she doesn’t recognize me as her granddaughter. 

i can’t promise i’ll be on at all this month, i don’t know when we’ll be called to go, i know there’s a good possibility i won’t be bringing my laptop with me when i go to alberta as it will be a time to be with my aunt, uncle, cousins and for the small period of time, my grandmother.

please understand my choice of not being here, i’m sorry for it, but i need time. i don’t have any motivation to be on tumblr at the moment and i don’t know when i will. but if you want to stay in contact with me, pls message me, inbox, whatever you will. if you want my discord, pls just ask for it as i will be on there and i have been on there everyday. i’m sorry for this inconvenience, i hope you can accept my apology and understand that i need time to be away, to properly process everything and deal with the loss when the day does come. thank you for reading this if you have.

#❛ ❪ ♡ — ooc ; outtie. #tw; mentions of death

[silvxr-speedster]

Sorry

a/n: honestly guys, idk why I keep writing breakup fics. This is based on Sorry by Halsey. pls feel free to request any song fics or whatever. I’m just doing this while I have some free time. I hope you enjoy!

“Bucky, I’m breaking up with you,” you rasped. It was a sentence you never dreamed of having to say. The two of you had been dating for a year and you loved him with everything you had in you. People always thought you two would get married and live as peaceful of a life as you could considering Bucky’s profession. For the first months of your relationship, everything was great, however, as time went on, Bucky was distant. He’d leave for missions and not return until a week after the mission ended. You’d wake up at night to an empty house and a note on the counter explaining that he needed some air and he’d be home soon.

Eventually, the days became miserable and lonely. You had a hard time staying in the house you shared with Bucky, even if he wasn’t home. You couldn’t be around the home that used to be filled with love and happiness. You couldn’t handle the reminder that Bucky seemed anything but happy with you.

Bucky’s blue eyes searched your face. He wasn’t sure where this came from. He realized that he’d been distant, but he wasn’t distant because of you. He was distant because he knew if you got too close, you wouldn’t be able to love him anymore. He couldn't process an acceptable reaction other than to say, “I’m sorry.”

You blinked up at him, unsure of why he was apologizing. Bucky looked at the ground and sighed. He itched the back of his head and shrugged. “I’ve been distant,” he whispered. “I just can’t believe that you’d love someone like me. I don’t know how to accept your love when I’m such a monster in my head. You look at me with such love and admiration and I just can’t believe someone as good as you would love someone as bad as me.”

You shook your head. “Bucky,” you murmured. “I’ve always loved you, past and all. You can’t keep running from your problems.”

Bucky nodded. He avoided your eye contact. He knew this day would happen. From the day you first met, he knew you’d be too good for him, even if you couldn't see it at first. He noticed your absence from the house. He noticed little hints that you were as broken as he was. “I’m sorry that I've been so blind,” he spoke. “I'm sorry that I broke your heart.”

You looked at the ground. This wasn’t how you expected the breakup to go. A tear trickled down your cheek. Part of you wanted to change your mind and wrap your arms around Bucky. Part of you wanted to tell him you’d stay if he promised to work on his problems. The longer you stood in front of Bucky, however, the more definite your breakup seemed. The two of you knew that it wasn’t right to stay together, but the two of you were still so in love. “I wanted more for us.”

“Me too,” Bucky said, nodding slowly. “Someone will love you better than I ever could.”

You nodded as more tears slipped down your cheeks. All you’d wanted in the last year was to stay with Bucky. You wiped away your cheeks and looked up to Bucky. “You deserve to be loved, too, Bucky. Stop punishing yourself for things that you couldn’t control.” You sniffled and shrugged. “I wish I could’ve helped you in the way you needed to be helped.”

Bucky sighed. “I wish I could’ve done more for you.”

You looked up at Bucky and smiled, weakly. “I’ll miss you. I’ll pack up tonight,” you whispered, looking around the apartment.

Bucky wanted you to have the apartment. He didn’t want to stay in a place that smelled so much like you, but before he could speak up, you walked past him and out of the apartment. Bucky stood in the living room, alone, wondering how he’d been dumb enough to lose the best thing in his life.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #Winter Soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #marvel #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #imagine #imagines #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[beware-the-love-square]

Marichat May - Day #16 - Flowers

(forgive me for this mess pls)

She should’ve known that it was bad idea from the beginning. Somehow, she could already hear Tikki’s voice telling her, “I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea,” the nicer equivalent of “I told you so.” And Tikki had indeed told her - multiple times- that there had to be better alternatives.

But of course, Marinette didn’t listen. In hindsight, she might have been a bit blinded by the need to see Chat Noir more often. Ever since the first couple of balcony visits, she’d begun looking forward to the sharing of snacks and comfortable conversations with her partner, to the point where she’d feel disappointed whenever he didn’t show.

It was after two weeks of going without a single visit that she decided it was time to do something about it. Although she didn’t quite want to admit it to herself yet, she really had begun to miss him, and his absence was starting to take a toll on her general mood (and apparently her decision-making skills as well).

And so, she went and bought some catnip.

A poorly thought out plan, really. It was only after setting it down amongst the rest of her plants on her balcony did she realize she didn’t know if Chat would even be near the area to notice it, or close he’d need to be to smell it. Or if catnip worked on him at all. She’d been going on a whim that it was a cat tendency that came with the suit, just like purring and pawing seemed to.

At some point she’d tried to let go of all the hope that it would work so that she wouldn’t be faced with blatant disappointment, but couldn’t deny that there was a small part of her that still hoped the plan would work, or that luck would be on her side outside of the suit for once.

By nightfall, the Catnip Plan™ had escaped her mind for the most part, and she was ready to go to sleep even in the face of failure. She’d already closed her eyes and consoled herself with a “maybe tomorrow” when there was a crash.

She’d sat up immediately. There was no mistaking that it was the sound of something breaking.

Chat?

Her pulse picked up as she moved toward the trap door that led to the balcony and ever so quietly pushed it open. Her expression changed to one of surprise to one of amusement.

The catnip definitely seemed to have worked, alright. Because there was Chat Noir, in his full leather suited glory, rolling around in the special plant on the floor, dirt and all. Marinette carefully stepped out onto the balcony, and eyed the scattered remains of the rest of her plants, the pieces of broken pots and expensive fertilizer and squished flowers.

She crossed her arms, put on a smirk and cleared her throat, gaining Chat’s attention.

“Well, this is quite a mess, isn’t it, kitty?” she said with a hint of a playful tone. Chat suddenly seemed to gain awareness of his surroundings and rushed to stand.

“Princess! I, uh, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he replied, posture a bit too stiff as he moved to give her hand a kiss.

Marinette only raised an eyebrow and drew her gaze to the mess once again. Chat followed suit, eyes widening as he took in the sight. A dash on pink appeared on his cheeks, all too visible despite the dirt that still clung to his face. She realized how messy he’d gotten, blond locks sticking out every which way and marked with patches of brown.

“Seems like the plan to lure you here with catnip worked fairly well, judging by the way you seem to have crashed straight into it.”

Chat’s eyes widened again at this statement.

“You lured me here with catnip?!” he cried out, before realizing that it was late and he should be keeping his voice down. “Princess, if I’d known you missed me that much I would’ve tried to swing by much sooner.” He was wearing his trademark grin now, with a bit of smugness and appreciation mixed into the expression.

Oh, how Marinette had missed the sight of him and his smile.

“I wish you had,” she whispered, catching herself off guard. She had not meant to say it out loud, and prayed Chat didn’t hear it, but the way his cat ears perked up attentively gave away that he had. His expression softened, grin morphing into a concerned frown, mask furrowing where she assumed his eyebrows would be.

The air suddenly felt ten times more tense that it had a few seconds prior, and Marinette’s stomach churned anxiously as she awaited some kind of response, some kind of sign in his eyes that the words that slipped from her lips might have ruined the relationship they’d both come to form over the past months.

He remained quiet, waiting quietly with patient, oh so beautiful eyes. Eventually, when she saw his lips part to finally reply she spoke first. The conversation he was probably going to start was not one she wanted to have at this moment. Not yet.

“I mean, if you’d dropped by sooner maybe we’d have spared the lives of the rest of my plants, right?” she managed to say, forcing her voice to sound as playful as it had before.

There was a moment of hesitation before Chat followed along with the change in mood. He bent down and carefully picked up a few of scattered, slightly smushed flowers, including a few lavander catnip ones, bunching them together into a makeshift bouquet.

“Is there any way you could possible forgive me, purrincess?” he asked, offering up the bundle of flowers as an apology gift with an expectant smile.

“You’re offering me the evidence of your crimes as a bribe for me to forgive you? Not sure that’s the best way to apologize, kitty, but I’ll accept it nonetheless,” she responded, returning his smile with one of her own and letting him place the “bouquet” into her hands, trying to ignore the way his fingers seemed to linger on her skin.

“How lucky am I to have such a forgiving princess? I’m pawsitive anyone else would just tell me to… leaf them alone.”

“Chat, please don’t start.”

“It’s getting late, isn’t it past your budtime?”

“Chat, I swear-”

“But look at this mess I made!! The florist all dirty now.”

“Chaaaat..”

#why did this take me so long to write ahh #I had to look up flower puns for this #marichat #marinette cheng #chat noir #marichat may #miraculous ladybug