#Peter. Drop it

[moritashie]

We've all heard abour Peter jokingly/sarcastically calling Tony out on his dad like behavior by something along the lines of:

"Sure, Dad."

But hear me out; Bio-Peter calling Tony per "Mr. Stark" whenever the man does something overly business-y.

.

[latenightsundayblues]

HAPPY FUCKING HOLIDAYS BITCHES....... couldn't get that damned song out of my head so now I'm making it YOUR problem!!!!!!

John is most DEFINITELY a holiday guy 2 me...... I like projecting nice grandpa vibes on him every once in a while alright bite me

Gramps was feeling a little generous due to a bad case of christmas spirit and allowed hoffman to spend the rest of the night at the precinct's little xmas party....and what do ya know? A certain grumpy coworker of his just happened to have been dragged there unwillingly by Perez.

Aaah. Truly the most wonderful time of the year.

[chaoticace2005]

Emily: ARE YOU-

Sir Pentious: fucking

Emily: KIDDING ME? YOU COMPLETE-

Sir Pentious: fucking

Emily: IDIOT! YOU-

Sir Pentious: asshole

St. Peter: ... I'm sorry, what the fuck?

Sir Pentious: Miss Emily doesn't like swearing, so I'm helping her out.

[messervixen]

“The Black Dog”

“The Prophecy”

“Peter”

Okay Taylor that’s enough feeding the theories for one day-

[the-strawberryfarmer]

“I’m not letting him go”

:’)

[laylakeating]

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS APPRECIATION WEEK DAY SIX | favourite monster → Medusa

[hunnam]

Chris Pratt as Peter Quill Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 - Deleted/Behind the scenes extras

[queenofinys]

maisie peters, watch / olivia rodrigo, love is embarrassing / taylor swift, is it over now?

[ssspideysense]

✧˖° pretty boy

summary: peter’s a little bit of a people pleaser— mostly when you’re the person in question.

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

tags: fluff, undefined relationship, no pronouns used for reader

wc: 1.4k

“Stay still.”

And he tried.

Peter tried to hold himself still like a statue as an unbelievably soft hand cupped the side of his cheek. Your fingers were warm and your skin was smooth and your face— it was right up in his face, twisted with a look of concentration.

He contemplated holding his breath, too, but he could smell your shampoo, and he wasn’t quite ready to give that up yet.

You carefully swept the black pencil along Peter’s bottom lash line. The foreign sensation startled him, forcing him to blink, but he tried to resist the urge to pull away.

Makeup. He was letting you put makeup on him.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You’d shaped his eyebrows with the tiniest little brush he’d ever seen, drawn on him with a couple of different types of pencils, and patted some pink onto his cheeks. Peter didn’t really know what was going on, but it didn’t really matter once your face lit up and you scooted so close to him your knees smacked against each other.

The relative quiet in his room only did so much for his frayed nerves. What if May skirted in without knocking? What if Ned decided to come over unannounced again? Admittedly, Peter couldn’t work out which possibility was worse.

But he could count your eyelashes right now. He could see all the little flecks of color in your irises, even in the shitty lighting from his desk lamp. There wasn’t anywhere more appropriate for him to look as you painted on your canvas, and he thanked the universe that he had enough time to brush his teeth before running out the door that morning.

“Peter, hold still,” you warned again, shooting him a less than amused look.

He smiled and chuckled a bit, though it was more automatic than anything. “You’re literally in my eye.”

“I’m not in it— don’t be a baby.”

You shifted the hand on his cheek and instead laced it into his hair, holding him still while you added a few finishing touches to the smudged eyeliner.

His heart had never beaten faster. Your firm, secure tangle into his wild locks kicked up a mass of butterflies in his stomach. You guided his head back, enough so he was looking up at you— his head tilted, his breath caught in his throat.

He wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship, the… thing you two were tangled up in. He would, if he could, because he really wanted to— but you hadn’t exactly discussed that sort of thing yet. Feelings were up in the air like party balloons, just waiting to burst from the building tension.

You were closer now than when you started, legs saddled on either side of his own, and you were unbothered, even when his hands accidentally brushed the sides of your thighs as he fidgeted. The light pressure of you perched on top of him while he sat stretched out over his Star Wars bed sheets was the grounding he needed to keep himself from floating away.

“Aaaaand… done,” you used your finger to smudge out some of the dark lines you’d carefully laid down on Peter’s face. You leaned back a tad, examining your handiwork with your fingers still intertwined into his curls. “See? It makes your eyes pop.”

Peter couldn’t care less what he actually looked like at the moment. He’d forgotten exactly what you’d said to get this to happen in the first place, but it didn’t matter. He just knew that he’d do it again, probably without question next time. The electric buzz of wild wings fluttering in his stomach was enough of a reason— your smile as you gently tugged on his hair was yet another.

A smile crept onto Peter’s face as he looked up at you. “And it only took you, like, forty minutes.”

You scoffed, releasing his hair. The bed creaked with the swing of your leg as you shifted to walk across the room to his desk. Casual as ever, like you hadn’t just stopped and restarted his heart about five times, you tossed the eyeliner pencil into your open backpack. “Well, it would’ve been faster if you didn’t fight me in the beginning,” you mused.

He’d opened his mouth to protest, but promptly closed it when his aunt’s voice filtered through his bedroom door. “It’s about that time, kiddos,” May called, rapping against the wood a few times for good measure.

Neither of you were kiddos anymore, but May never listened to Peter’s soft protests about the topic anyway. She’d just recently lifted the “keep the door cracked” rule after Peter’s birthday a few months ago. It wasn’t time to push it.

And you groaned, grumbling about the loss of time during your very focused mission. You began gathering your things — beauty supplies, a half-eaten bag of beef jerky, your notebooks that went completely unopened this entire “homework session” — and shoved them into your backpack.

Peter stood to his feet. “Wait, how do I wash this stuff off?”

In a show of faux offense, you clutched your imaginary pearls and gasped. “So eager to erase all of my hard work? You haven’t even seen how pretty you are yet,” your light laughter made the corners of his lips twitch up.

While you pulled on your jacket, Peter chanced a glance at himself in the mirror atop his dresser. To his surprise, there wasn’t some sort of clown staring back at him. He peered at his eyelashes and his cheekbones and his newly defined eyebrows— it was a little startling, pulling a chuckle from his chest, but he didn’t look quite as insane as he pictured in his head.

Your visage appeared behind him in the mirror, lips curled up with a wicked tinge of sweet amusement. “Do you feel bonita?”

“I feel bonita.”

“Wonderful, because you look bonita.” Your hand ruffled his hair, soft and playful, and the ghosts of your fingers gripping into his locks just minutes ago danced around his thoughts.

Peter chuckled and shook his head. “Am I stuck like this forever now?”

Behind him, you slung your backpack over your shoulder. “Do guys not wash their faces before bed? Just take a shower, stinky.”

He mocked your words under his breath which earned a firm punch to the shoulder and a stifled chuckle. He wanted to say more, more of something maybe smart or witty or funny, because you were always smart and witty and funny, but his brain was a useless piece of meat at the moment.

“I shower every day, thank you very much,” he managed.

“Oh, and now you’re lying to me? My heart can’t take this.”

Peter’s own heart thumped with your sarcasm.

“Never. You know I’m a bad liar,” he continued, because, despite himself, he couldn’t help but bounce off of the banter that felt so natural between you.

A small hum left your lips. You eased a bit closer, examining your artwork again on his heated face. “Yeah, you always get all blushy and stuttery when you’re nervous,” one of your hands graced his jaw, tilting his head from side to side as you spoke oh so casually, “plus, you talk a lot louder. It’s kinda cute.”

“That’s not true, I don’t do that,” Peter complained, proving at least two of your points immediately, and his adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow.

That hand that laid under his ear gently patted his flushed cheek a few times for emphasis.

“You sure about that?” you smiled, the light gloss on your lips glinting in the low light of his bedroom.

“Y—Yeah,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat immediately after, “yeah, yes. I’m sure. Totally sure.”

And you couldn’t tuck away your smile, even when you swept in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Peter leaned in eagerly, humming a little in surprise. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingers jumped to your waist— this wasn’t exactly how he pictured your first kiss, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna fight it just because he was in eyeliner.

But you pulled away all too soon, which could’ve been any amount of time, as far as Peter was concerned. He looked down at you with his doe eyes, that boyish grin crooked and giddy on his flushed face.

Your voice was honey, smooth and sweet just like the way you looked at him.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

[thefiresofpompeii]

something about this quote + missy's piano + his guitar. playing clara's theme as a remnant of a lost memory... when nothing is remembered, when nothing is left, still the song continues on. the long song – passed on through generations to every new queen of years, down along the eons. your song is ending but the story never ends

[linusbenjamin]

Hannibal | 2.08 'Su-zakana'

[drawthething]

How this genius of a cluster mess these baby muppets wrote in 20 mins never got adapted into a real film? I'd never know

I! Just! Want! A! Work hard or die trying girl sequel! Episode!

COFFEE-

[starflungwaddledee]

I'm just sayin', Starstruck and Kirby would be adorable. But also Starstruck and Meta-Knight might be the funniest thing you could possibly do. :)

hear me out: peter pan (2003) window scene

been staunchly avoiding typing too much on most of these but i have some thoughts about this one!

you know... i had actually never even considered kirby for the shipaganza. mostly because i think of him as holding such a strong and unique position in the hearts of everyone who knows him, in a way that is devout but also seems fairly romance-free. and i'm actually very interested in the complex relationships that he has with his friends! but i wonder if not considering him was maybe a disservice, because if anyone has an abundance of the capacity for love, it's him, right?

i think that kirby could eventually occupy a similar heart-space for starstruck as bandee, though it would take longer. i strongly suspect that bandee's love of kirby would rub off on her, if nothing else.

i'm not sure either of them... really understand the premise of romance or dating, so it might not be a typical sort of thing. but i think they could giggle and laugh together and shoot each other slightly smitten looks when the other one isn't paying attention, and be very invested in each others happiness.

he adds a pass by her window to his early morning flight, on the off chance she might be up to join him. she's always thinking of him when he's off saving the world, and distinguishes his star from all the others in the sky with ease. the irresistible allure of adventure vs someone who has never seen any of the wonders of your planet before. someone who finds as much unrestrained joy and delight in the mundane as you do. eating paper cups you find on the ground.

you know i could see it.

[marvel-lous-guy]

Tony: Do you even have any life goals other than spiderman?

Peter: I have been banned from every fast food place in Queens except for the Mcdonalds one block away from the Tower. I don't know what their limit is but I will find it.

[latenightsundayblues]

@goofalicousgooberface hey.

[tardxsblues]