#idk the spider-man one just really irks me

[dudelynxx]

ok actually i am so so frustrated by stories about trans people getting erased and misinterpreted to hell by anyone who isn’t trans because a character doesn’t look into the camera and yell I AM TRANSGENDER AND THIS STORY IS ABOUT BEING TRANSGENDER

[mgparker]

under his skin

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

spoiler free | word count: 4k

summary: in which you and peter parker realize there really is a fine line between love and hate.

warnings: unedited, constant childish bickering and arguments, enemies to lovers, swearing, violence, assault attempt, mentions of blood, possessive!peter, slight ooc!peter, toxic a little?? maybe idk?

Peter Parker generally considered himself a friendly guy. In fact, he usually made it a point to be exceedingly nice towards others. It wasn’t in his nature to stand around and not defend the little guy. Nor was it in his nature not to treat others with kindness and respect. I mean, he literally held doors open for grandmas in his free time. It went hand in hand with being New York’s Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.

But, for the life of him, Peter Parker could not explain his insatiable hatred for you.

Well, maybe hatred was a bit too far. But he really, really disliked you. He doesn’t know why but something about the way you walked, talked, and breathed just irked the fuck out of him.

The way you scrunched your nose when you laughed.

The way your smile would lean a little towards the right.

The way you would look effortlessly flawless every day.

The way you easily held so much knowledge in your brain that even Einstein would be impressed…

Yeah… all of that lit a fire in Peter’s bones. You got under his skin like no one ever has. And he couldn’t really explain it.

Correction—he couldn’t explain it without sounding like a certified dumbass.

You see—the two of you were actually good friends once, best friends, before your fallout in the second grade. Yes… the second grade. Talk about some elementary school drama. But you vowed to hate each other for the rest of your lives and that was that.

It may seem immature that Peter still held a strong loathing toward you but over the years, your feud had evolved into something different. Now, you were academic rivals, constantly trying to one-up each other simply because you could.

So while Peter remained the sweetest boy on earth to literally everyone else, he was the biggest menace towards you.

“Can you watch where you’re going?” A familiar voice snapped, just as soon as you bumped their shoulder roughly, distracted by the textbook in your hand.

With an embarrassed gasp, you spun around to apologize before you saw who the culprit had been.

“Parker,” you grumbled, instantly turning back around with every intent to continue your march toward the library.

Footsteps scrambled in your direction. “So you’re not going to apologize?” The boy asked obnoxiously, abandoning his path in favor of following you.

Annoyance surged through your veins. “No. I’m not.”

You were stuck on the same sentence in your book, rereading the words over and over again as you desperately tried to block out Peter’s voice. “Y’know everyday you just prove yourself to be the worst out of the two of us.”

You snapped your book shut. “I’m so very sorry, Mr. Parker. Forgive me for bumping into your highness.”

“Oh well I wouldn’t take it that far.”

You shoved past him with an eye roll. “Piss off, Parker.”

“You say my name a lot. Are you like in love with me or something?” Why was he still following you?!

“And after my numerous attempts at getting you to fuck off, you still seem to be following me. Are you like obsessed with me or something?”

Peter scoffed, shaking off the comment though it struck a nerve in him. “Just fulfilling my daily quota of reminding you of just how irritating you are.”

You finally reached the library, spinning around to face the bane of your existence. Resisting the urge to whack him across the head with the book, you snapped it shut and held it tightly. “Are you done?Because you’ve surely shown me how irritating you are.”

Peter made a thinking face before breaking into that stupid smirk you despised. “Yeah I think I’m done.”

Your heart raced violently from the utter frustration this boy put you through. Normally, you enjoyed having the last word because your pride couldn’t settle for anything less but today you barely had any fight in you.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had nearly reached your limit.

So instead you simply turned around and entered the library quietly. It left Peter stunned, staring after your retreating figure with a sense of disappointment.

As he stood there watching you choose a table through the glass doors, a girl entered his line of vision. She juggled eight books in her arms, struggling to grasp the doorknob.

“Here,” Peter murmured kindly, pulling the door open. The girl thanked him with a grateful smile and slid past.

Across the library, you caught the interaction, gritting your teeth as you watched Peter Parker transform into his usual self-- the kind, smart student who didn’t have one mean bone in his body.

So it infuriated you when he suddenly looked up and met your eye with a hint of that warmness remaining. But then the look morphed into something else, a look you couldn’t quite place but it made you narrow your eyes in suspicion. You were the one to finally break eye contact…

He’d never looked at you that way before.

It was late when you finally left the library, the sun disappearing behind the skyscrapers of New York.

A chilly breeze made you pull your sweater tight around your frame, shivering as you rushed home. The silence was unsettling-- the city was usually buzzing with excitement throughout the day but eerily calm at night.

A puff of white air formed in front of your face, your breath coming out shakily. This temperature should be illegal, you thought bitterly.

You were almost home, a few blocks away from your apartment complex when you heard idle footsteps behind you. Automatically, your heart sank, a pit forming in your stomach as you walked faster. You snuck a glance behind you, catching sight of a dodgy looking man.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Alarmed, you looked for any open stores, anywhere you could walk into but the street was mostly residential.

Your brain barely caught up with it but you realized the footsteps were a lot louder now. A hand forcibly wrapped around your arm, spinning you around until you were facing the man who’d been following you. An idle scream left your lips, lungs freezing in shock.

“Empty your pockets.”

The stranger dragged you into a dark corner of the street, cornering you to the wall. You wanted to scream again but your panic was keeping you foolishly silent.

Valuing your life, you did as he asked, watching as your phone, keys and headphones fell on the phone with a loud clatter. The man stared at the items disapprovingly, stepping back before retrieving something from his pocket.

That’s how you were suddenly on the receiving end of a gun. Lips quivering, you forced some air into your lungs, doing your best to stay calm but if the look of anger in the man’s eye was any indication-- you weren’t doing well.

“Open the bag,” he motioned at it with the gun. You absolutely felt like throwing up, zipping the bag and slowly handing it over. He took it aggressively, throwing its contents on the floor with no sympathy. You felt like crying as you watched your books land on the damp floor, pages instantly bent.

Finally, he dug out the wad of cash you kept in your bag in case of emergencies. A sneer formed on his face, stuffing the money in his pocket. Relief flooded you before it was rudely taken away when he raised the gun once more. “You’ve seen my face, sweetheart.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you lied desperately, feeling your impending doom creeping just around the corner. Is this really how you were going to die? In a damp smelly alleyway in Queens?

Where did all your spunk go? Oh right-- any trace of your usual attitude flew right out the window as soon as he whipped out the gun.

If you’d had a second longer to gather your wits, you would’ve attempted to fight off the man.

He tilted his head. “That’s what they all say.”

You couldn’t go out without a snarky comment. Despite the bolt of panic that hit you. “You couldn’t have come up with a better line? How typical and unoriginal of you.”

His face twisted, finger curling around the trigger mercilessly. You flinched, shrinking back as you saw your life flash before your eyes.

Except the bullet didn’t hit you, the gun suddenly aiming at the floor pointedly. You were confused, shaking from head to toe. A web was connected to the head of the gun and you both followed the substance until it led all the way to its source.

Stance tall, Spider-Man stood at the top of the building you were cornered against, a long web connected to his wrist and stretching all the way to the thief’s gun, manipulating it so that it shot towards the ground instead of you.

“Do you usually go pointing guns at everyone on the street?” Spider-Man scolded. “Not cool, dude.”

Shocked, you stared between him and the thief, slowly inching away to put some distance between your assailant. He noticed instantly, dropping the gun and lunging toward you with a knife in hand. But Spider-Man acted quick, stealing the knife with another web. He finally jumped down, barely giving you time to react before the stranger was pinned to the wall.

The hero’s voice dropped a few tones. “Touch her again and I’ll do much worse than web you to a wall.”

Wait—you recognized that voice. How could you not? It was a voice you heard every day at school. A voice that always stirred very intense feelings within you.

Reeling from your discovery, you didn’t notice when the masked hero walked over to you quickly, gently grabbing your shoulders. “Are you okay?” He asked softly. It was the nicest tone you’d ever heard come from his mouth (at least directed towards you).

Forgetting every language you knew, you nodded blankly, feeling nauseous from the near-death experience.

Hastily, Spider-Man stuffed your belongings back into your bag and then wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing you to his side firmly and directing your arms to his neck. As soon as you were secure, he shot a web and swung you both into the air.

The thief’s screams faded away quickly as you gained speed, swinging toward your house. Despite the fear still coursing through your veins, the feeling of flying was exhilarating. Your eyes admired the city lights and the faint view you had of Manhattan. You felt Spider-Man’s fingers tighten around your skin possessively.

When you finally arrived on the rooftop of your building, you lingered in his arms, staring into the eyes of his mask incredulously.

He stared back silently, the space between you nonexistent. His behavior threw you off—if your theory was correct (which he had practically proven when he took you to your building without asking you where to go), this was a very different Peter Parker than the one you were used to.

Clearing your throat, you stepped away and rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm up. “Never thought you’d go out of your way for me, Parker.”

Spider-Man followed you, eyes scanning your figure for any bodily injuries but luckily there was nothing to find. His body visibly slumped in relief, preparing to halfheartedly deliver a sarcastic quip he reserved just for you but the words fell short on his tongue— “Wait—I—what?!”

He watched your lips curl into a knowing smile, his heart skipping a beat.

“You should really invest in one of those voice modulator things,” you advised. “It’s exceedingly easy to recognize your unpleasant tone.”

You tried to stop yourself from your usual snide comments considering he just saved your life, but you couldn’t stop the overwhelming flood of emotions you felt around him. Snapping at him was the only way you knew how to release some of that tension. Little did you know, Peter felt the same way… when honestly, you just believed he loved being an annoying little shit.

He suddenly lowered his tone dramatically, almost growling at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A bout of laughter bubbled from your chest.

“Stop doing that,” you gave him a smile that made him feel stupid.

“Doing what?” He growled deeply.

You shook your head, playing with your fingers. “This is embarrassing for you, Parker.”

Stuttering over his words, he tried to think of any excuse to deter you from your conclusion.

Ignoring his desperate attempts, you reached up and grasped the edge of his mask. The two of you froze; you waited for him to stop you, but his mind went blank at your touch. It did something weird to him— a pleasant ache in his stomach. It was a combination of butterflies and something else.

Taking his silence as a green light, you wrapped your fingers around the soft fabric, pulling up slowly and watching as you revealed his warm skin inch by inch. Your breath caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears.

Why were you nervous? You knew it was Peter.

You both sucked in a sharp breath when his mask finally slipped off and hung in your grasp loosely. You wanted to say that the revelation sent you into a confused state but it made sense. Peter was an angel (to everyone else but you), always helping others even when he didn’t need to. It simply made sense that he was Spider-Man…

You were so close you could feel his nervous breaths fanning your eyelashes. Staring at him in this proximity made you realize just how beautiful Peter Parker was. A warm blush scattered across his cheeks and nose. His long eyelashes hung over his sparkling brown eyes and his lips were parted slightly, a delicate pink shade that you could imagine pressing against your own—

No. Absolutely not. You could admit Peter was hot, but to fantasize about him as he stood mere inches away from you was out of question.

Silence engulfed the two of you, both trying to figure out what to say in this awkward predicament.

“This is the last thing I needed,” he breathed, still looking deep into your eyes. Though it was spoken gently, the words themselves irked you.

A scoff escaped your lips. “What? You’re scared I’m gonna reveal your identity? You may piss me off but I’m not that mean.”

“I’m not scared you’re going to tell anyone,” he argued. “It’s just that anybody who knows is another person that’s in danger because of me.”

“Since when do you care about my safety?” You chuckled.

He swallowed roughly, stepping back without breaking his gaze. “I’ve always cared about your safety.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you bit back.

“Didn’t I just save you back there?” He was getting irritated again, the usual when he was around your intoxicating presence.

You cringed. “Uh—yeah—no you’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you,” you spat, feeling your manners come back suddenly. You might have your severe differences, but you were grateful nonetheless. You were quite literally staring death in the face before he miraculously arrived.

Peter suddenly felt rather bashful. “You’re—you’re welcome.”

Not quite sure how to properly express your gratitude, you decided to take the easy way out, slowly stepping toward the staircase. “My parents are probably two seconds away from blowing up my phone so I gotta go.” You awkwardly threw him some finger guns, unsure of how to act around him if you weren’t arguing. “I’ll, um, see you in class tomorrow.”

“Yeah—yeah I’ll see you,” he said with a small smile. Gripping your bag tightly, you spun around with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. A heat rose from your neck. All that passion you’d always translated into snide… well, it didn’t feel half bad when you had a nice conversation with him instead.

For the next few weeks, your usual banter with Peter slowly faded away until you simply resorted to giving each other a friendly smile in the hallway. But honestly, it probably looked more like a grimace from both ends because little did you know, you were both working through the same feelings.  

You were both realizing that your irritation towards each other was actually a guise to conceal the fiery feelings you held for each other.

And it didn’t help that every time you saw him in class or in the hallway, all you could think about was the feeling of his protective hand on your waist and his firm torso pressed against yours…

Jesus, you had it bad.

It was true what they said—there was a fine line between love and hate…

Your feelings became known late one night when an aggressive tapping on your window caused you to fly off your bed. Pulling your curtains away anxiously, your defenses dropped as soon as you caught sight of Peter Parker.

The Spider-Man suit clung to his skin and his mask laid beside him on the fire escape. He was gasping as if he were in pain and a glance down to his torso confirmed it.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, pulling the window open and practically dragging him into your room.

Your hands burned as they made contact with his suit. In fact, every part of you burned at the thought of him in your room. Alone.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, pulling off the top of his suit as he stumbled onto your bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Part of you felt elated that he chose you of all people, but you pushed down your excitement. If he realized your hatred was actually not hatred at all, he’d never shut up about it. Ever.

Anyway, there were more pressing matters at hand. Rushing to the bathroom, your shaky hands dug the first aid kit from under the sink and rushed back over to Peter who was moaning and groaning. His blood was making you nervous, causing you to do the one thing you were best at.

“Why would you do this?” You wiped at his cut, determined to keep your eyes away from his fantastic abdomen. How had you not noticed he was this ripped?

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” He defended, hissing when you pressed the alcohol swab to his wound.

“I saw you with little cuts at school but never anything this serious,” you continued without acknowledging his response. “Do you have any idea how much it worries me knowing you’re risking your life every night?! And I probably shouldn’t care so much but I do. I care a whole fucking lot and it constantly keeps me up at night, wondering if—”

You stopped suddenly as you realized what had just poured out of your mouth, eyes stuck on his torso to avoid eye contact. Wow. That was stupid. Why did you say that? Why would you say that?! Curse you and your stupid word vomit—

— “…If?”

“Huh?” You looked up and Peter was staring at you intensely, leaning on his elbows. It stirred something deeper in you— seeing him spread across your bed like a damn supermodel.

“You stopped suddenly. You said you stay up every night wondering if…?” There was no trace of his usual teasing smile.

This was painfully awkward for you.

“Forget I said that,” you mumbled, bandaging his already-healing wound.

“What if I don’t want to?” He shot back quickly, forgetting about the pain and focusing all his attention on your face. Thankfully, the bandage was secure because your actions froze instantly.

It took a minute but then a wave of realization hit you like a tsunami. “Um— well that depends I guess.”

His eyes trailed down to your lips. “On what?”

“Whether you’re going to use my words to make my life a living hell,” you leaned in, passion threatening to burst beneath the surface.

The tension got thicker, his hands snaking their way under your shirt and around your waist. They seemed to leave a burning trail in their wake, every nerve in your body lighting up under his touch. Goosebumps rose along your body.

You couldn’t believe he was pulling you apart with just his hands. “I’ll think I’ll use them for something different…” His lips were a hairswidth away from yours and you’d never felt more exhilarated in your life.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decided to throw all caution to the wind. “Well, I’m a firm believer in the notion that actions speak louder than words,” you breathed before pressing your lips against his daringly.

A sensation rushed to your brain so quickly it made you dizzy. Warmth enveloped your senses as Peter’s soft lips moved against your own feverishly. It didn’t start slow—no, just like your relationship, everything was hot and fiery and fast.

All other thoughts vanished until all you could think about was Peter.

The way it felt to have his fingers grip your blazing skin, the way his hair felt pillowy against your palms... the way he pulled you in close, your clothed chest flush against his bare torso.

Hands were all over the place—yours had gone from his neck to his sternum and his were tangled in your hair, using his grip to pull your head away slightly. Starved, you breathed in a gasp of air before it was stolen straight from your lungs when his wet lips connected to the spot under your jaw. A breathy sound left your throat, leaning into his touch until he dragged you down with him. Effortlessly, Peter flipped you over, hovering over your body with a sinful look in his eye.

A snark comment seemed at the tip of his tongue, but you pulled him down before he could say a word. Your lips parted, allowing your tongues to touch gently. The world melted away until it was just you and Peter, intimately exploring each other in every way you could. Mouth to mouth. Skin to skin.

The pace of the kiss left you aching for familiarity, chasing his movements until it became more of a game—a race for dominance. It was the kind of kiss that left no room for anything other than the sensation of touch. Every sound that escaped you and every breathy moan that escaped Peter went unheard.

“You’ve always been mine,” he breathed as he covered every inch of skin your neck displayed. As if he had to leave his trace on every part of you.

Chuckling against his thumb that was lodged against your swollen lips, your eyes fluttered open to glance down at him. “You don’t want to start this right now.”

You thought your words fell on deaf ears when he continued licking and sucking on the base of your throat, but he suddenly rumbled a response against your skin. “You’re right,” he pressed his face harder into the crook of your neck. Goosebumps rose as he blew cold air on your bruised skin. “We’ve always belonged to each other.”

He was right. Undoubtedly.

Peter stared down at you, feeling his body tremble from the sheer intensity of his feelings for you. Your swollen lips teased him, like they were begging to be caged between his teeth. But suddenly he couldn’t see your lips anymore, your hands pulling him down until his ear was levelled with your mouth.

You murmured one word; it was all it took for his heart to fully belong to you. And only you.

Your teeth grazed his skin… “Right.”

After that night, you and Peter Parker realized your years-long rivalry had simmered into something beautiful. Something you both didn’t quite know how to explain so you used it to fuel the strongest emotion you could think of—hate. It was quite easy, seeing as both of you were competing for the spot of Valedictorian. But it didn’t matter much anymore—the anger, the teasing, the hate—because you’d decided to express your passion for each other’s souls in a different way…

The students of Midtown were quickly made aware of this new development, the two of you becoming dramatically closer within the week. And don’t get it twisted—your competitive spirit wasn’t completely gone, regardless of the fact that you were both insatiably in love with each other. If anything, it fueled you even more, knowing that at the end of the day, your boyfriend would still be your lover first and then your rival… you fueled each other like a match to gasoline.

If your abhorrence for each other was unbearably strong, the love was exceptionally consuming.

… It was exciting. Thrilling. Like constant adrenaline coursing through your veins…

That was your love.

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hi! out of character, i know but just something i was inspired to write since i’ve mainly stuck to best friend!reader content. requests will be answered soon, i’ve been very behind on my inbox :)

check out my masterlist btw !!

thanks for reading :)

--elle <333

general/tasm!peter parker taglist:

@idli-dosa​ @nikkitc0703 @golden-hoax @pogueslandia

[smolsized]

So hot take, yesterday I had a pretty intense conversation with my brother and it sort of shifted my view on the MCU’s Spider-Man just a bit.

For starters, I never really voice my dislikes when it comes to fictional characters on the internet because in my opinion the internet isn’t a place for that. I want my platform to be nothing but good vibes and relatable content, not character bashing. So I typically avoid conversations surrounding things I don’t like entirely and that means I’ve also never stated it on here explicitly but I have a pretty complicated relationship with the MCU’s Spider-Man. On one hand I absolutely hate his characterization/plot line but on another hand, it’s Peter Parker and I can’t bring myself to hate him, the character, in any shape or form so you know how it goes.

But yeah, I brought up to my brother some new theories I had after watching the new NWH trailer and how I felt like the MJ falling scene really feels like one of the ways they’ll possibly introduce Andrew’s Spidey in the movie. And of course this spiraled us down the Spider-Man rabbit hole. He started talking about Tobey’s Spidey (his favorite) and I started talking more about Andrew’s Spidey (my favorite) and of course somewhere down the road this led to a heated debate about Tom’s Spidey.

My brother told me that Tom’s Spidey felt the most comic accurate, and then proceeded to bash Andrew’s Spidey. I of course imploded. I’m talking full on foaming at the mouth, smoke coming out of my ears and goddamn train noises going off in my head. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for everyone being entitled to their opinions (it’s fictional stuff after all) and I was even going to let him live his delusions of Tom being the most comic accurate! But man oh man, he had to go and diss MY Spider-Man.

So I of course began to state all of his inaccuracies: the whole lack of uncle Ben arc (WHICH IS CRUCIAL TO THE ENTIRE CORE OF SPIDER-MAN) and of course Tom’s Spidey’s relationship (more like dependency) with Tony Stark. Like don’t get me wrong, I liked the whole mentorship/father-son dynamic going on but at the end of the day it was not accurate to the comics whatsoever and that was the point I was making there.

So my brother proceeded to ask “Dependency? What decency are you talking about? The fact that Tony made him a couple of suits that he didn’t even ask for? You act like Andrew’s Spidey wouldn’t have taken them too.” To which I argued “HE WOULDN’T HAVE! That’s the thing, Andrew’s Spidey absolutely would not have taken the suits—hell, he wouldn’t even have that sort of relationship with Tony Stark in the first place.” And not to mention that his dependency goes beyond just the suits—

There’s a sort of gullibleness about Tom’s Spidey that just puts a bad taste in my mouth, whereas Andrew’s Spidey is more idk cynical in a way? And what irks me the most is the way they’re not that far apart in age yet feel so much more different mindset wise, i don’t know if that makes sense. To me it feels like Tom’s Spidey is in more of a “I gotta impress Mr. Stark” mindset while Andrew’s Spidey is in more of a “I need live up to my uncle’s words” mindset.

And low and behold, my brother opens his mouth and actually says something that makes sense.

He says, “Okay, I can see how he’s dependent on Tony but you have to admit that it’s also a great plot device for his character development, just think about about it. You’ve said it yourself, Andrew’s Spidey’s character development revolved around Uncle Ben’s murder and revenge, well, Tony Stark is Tom’s Spidey’s uncle Ben in a way. Tony’s death will likely shape his character development and in ffh we saw with Beck at the end that he most likely won’t be as gullible anymore. Just give it a few movies.”

And boy did that shock me. I’ve never really thought of it that way before ngl, that Tom’s Spidey’s relationship with Tony could result in massive character development now that Tony is gone? Idk why but my brain simply couldn��t process that on it’s own?

So yeah, I’m looking at Tom’s Spidey a little differently now. I can see his potential and I hope that he does get to met Andrew and Tobey’s Spidey so they can tell him about uncle Ben and mentor him a bit. Also would really love to see Tobey and Andrew back in the Spider-Man role for a bit lol

[madmadmilk]

I want to be excited about the Eternals SO BADLY but I just can't... I don't think I ever got over Endgame and what a shoddy job the MCU did with time travel and the fallout/recovery of the "blip." The concept of the blip itself irks me so much and I wish they had come up with some other explanation.

But all the mcu content lately (with the exception of tfatws) does so little to dazzle me. And I wish that wasn't the case. I want the excitement back!

OH. MY. GOD. I totally agreeeee!! I wish there was another Avengers ensemble movie to like, solidify what the fuck happened??? I feel like i still have so many questions.... like, where do we stand with "the avengers?" The movies and shows we've seen recently have only scratched the surface...

like,, I'm so happy and excited that the MCU is expanding, but yeah i still feel like there are a few loose threads...

I'm gonna list some thoughts below lol (spoilers ahead!)

Spider-Man: Far From Home (movie)– obviously, we were anxious for a "first look" of what the state of the world was like... but i think they glossed over it too quickly? It was like, the whole world (and peter) mourned FOR iron-man, rather than the lives they lost etc. etc. It was a little bit too rosy, in terms of the world at large. We did kind of get to see Peter stand alone, but not quite. It hints at a bigger multiverse, but ya that doesn't wrap up the one we are already in

WandaVision (Series) - yeah, this was kind of an individual experience, so we didn't really get to learn much about the state of the world. we do know that they picked up vision and just did whatever the fuck they wanted with his body???? meaning??? they either took him when everyone snapped (so the OG6 avengers just let them do that??) OR they waited till tony?? died to take him?? WHAT??????????? i do appreciate that they emphasized her grief, it was cathartic and welcome esp. since i still hadn't gotten over what we lost in endgame.

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (series) - NOW we're getting into it. they introduced soooo many new topics, issues of race in the MCU, more corrupt governments, displaced peoples from The Blip, and the fact that The Avengers can't even get a fuckin' loan??? (much less other people??) i appreciate seeing how fucked the world is... i don't want it to come together easily. I'm glad to see Sam take Captain America's title and that he is a new and refreshing model for hope. It just feels good lol. THAT BEING SAID–... i'm a little frustrated that they didn't talk about steve's predicament?? like, i just want to know more idk

Black Widow (movie)- uhhhh..... i don't think this will show us much about the current affairs of the world. all i hope is that we see a fucking funeral or memorial to her, cos she's the one who held The Avengers together through the blip?????? hello?????

Loki (series) - I'm pretty sure they're going to rewrite how time travel works with this series. we may get more clarification?? on how it works, but i doubt it'll change anything retrospectively???????? But also this reiterates that Loki, and Gamora are not the same people that we've grown to know. They're the older versions and that is SO. SAD. lol. but we'll see!

Shang-Chi (movie) - hmm it will tie in some places we learned about from TFATWS, but i'm not sure what they'd address about The Blip?? I am excited to watch this and learn more thoooo

Eternals (movie) - LMAO THEY REALLY JUST LET HUMANS DO WHATEVER THEY WANTED, AND THEN THEY LET THEM BE THE ONLY PPL WHO STOOD BETWEEN THANOS AND MASS GENOCIDE AHHAHA (idk much about them, so pls don't spoil anything from the comics). lmao i kinda love how smug they might be about it hahhaha i bet some of them got snapped away and they were like :o....... SHIT. interested to see this new genre/style in the MCU tho! so looking forward to it!!

Yeah, i would say that...... i'm always excited for the new films, but..... i do wish certain things were addressed. Like steve fucking up timelines and leaving everyone behind, what happens to stark industries now?, funeral for nat...., hawkeye? who?, i hate what they did to the hulk......, new asgard?, how is cassie that old now???.... ect.....

let me know what you guys still have questions about lmaoooo

[growingingreenwood]

I think Tumblr ate my last ask, but which characters in the Tolkien legendarium do you either like/love or dislike/hate and why? And is there anything that you either like or dislike about any of the characters. I think it’s something that you haven’t touched on, and would be really interesting to discuss.

It might have, but honestly girl my asks are so messed up right now that it could be literally anywhere. They seem to randomly switch order sometimes?? Like they all play musical chairs everytime I use my spotify app. 

You’re right, I don’t think I’ve ever really discussed any of that beyond my love for the Silvan elves and the dislike for other elves unless it's framed from their perspective and not really my own opinions. I’ve thought about posting some stuff before, but then usually decide to ‘stay in my own lane’ or forest, as the case me be. But here we go!  

Characters I love that I don’t really ever mention (there are honestly a lot so i will try to stick to my top 3 or 4): 

Maedhors. 

I just have such a deep sympathy for him because (other than the kinslayings) he consistently tries to fix things, make things better, make things work. Like he wasn’t back from his 50 odd years of imprisonment and tortue before he rolled up to Thingols door to discuss how they were going to break up the Beleriend to accommodate all of the Noldor??? He gave his fathers crown away to his cousin to better unite the people?? I understand the repercussions and implications that come with Kinslaying, but even those actions I see as actions to try and help. Help his brothers, because if they don’t get the jewels back then they all get sent to the void. None of them come back from the halls. He is the oldest out of the seven brothers and just must feel such a crushing weight on him to do better and be better….. And it just …. Never really works out for him. In fact, most times it backfires horrible. 

Maglor: 

Pretty similar reasons to his brother tbh but also additionally I have such a soft spot for him with little Erond and Elros. The decisions the sons of Feanor made when the took the oath was rash and admittedly a bit… extreme.. But some of them really do seem to make attempts of righting their wrongs outside of their business with the oath. And honestly, I have huge respect for anybody who can know that people's opinions of them will never change but still try their best anyways.  

Eomer: 

I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH OKAY omg. He’s just. He’s just SO extra, but also so soft and caring and the relationship between him and Eowyn melts my heart. That scene when he finds her in the Return of the King will always put me into cardiac arrest for at least one entire minute. He is SO loyal to his uncle and his country, and he is a really brave and honest man. Plus, that moment in the books when both he and Araogrn casually lean on their swords LITERALLY in the middle of a battle (I wanna say helms deep??) and have a pleasant little chit chat amongst each other. Like how can you NOT love this man??? Impossible.  

While on the topic of underappreciated siblings, can we talk about FARAMIR 

Faramir: 

Ugh my beautiful little idiot. Homeboy speaks Sindarin but yet could not translate Cirith Ungol (which is Sindarian) to warn Sam and Frodo what might be in the tunnels Gollum wants to take them through. When Cirith Ungol literally means “Path of the Spider.” LIKE??? Eowyn confesses her love for him, and THIS MANS just fucking nods along, sitll holding her hand and goes: “Yeah, honestlly, who wouldnt be in love with Aragorn?” A masterpiece. Anyways, he’s also just like an all around good person who just has some pretty aggressive daddy issues. But his rangers LOVE him, and its obvious his people do too. I just wish he could have had more sympathy over the loss of his brother (aka best frined) 

50/50 person

Denethor: 

Alright, I will be the first to admit that the movie Denethor deserves what he got, I hate that bitch. But I will also admit that this man was done wrong in the films, and was aggressively villainized him far past what he actually was. Was he the best person in the world? No. The best father? No. But did he do his best with what he could when suddenly an enemy long thought dead as FUUUCCKKK suddenly appears right behind you? Yes. He absolutely did. I don really think that he gets enough credit for keeping Gondor running and functioning as it slipped further and fathern into darkness. They ended up living in a similar situation as Thranduil did, maybe for not as long but still. So like, if it weren’t for the movie I don’t really think I would have a strong opinion about him in any manner, so there you go. 

People I hate, and why: 

Eol: He’s just …. Creepy as fuck. He’s weird and possessive and controlling and BLAH. Who decided to kill their own son just because they themselves are insisting to do something that is forbidden? Eol. What did he do instead? Kill his wife. Good fucking job. 

Maeglin: Eol’s son. Also cringy and creepy. His uncle took him in even after his father murdered his mother right in front of them both, treated him like a son and did everything he could for him. But that wasn’t enough for Maeglin, and he couldn't take “uhm, not thank you. You are my cousin and being around you makes me uncomfortable” as an answer, and so betrays his city and gets everybody killed instead. Cool. Sick move. 

Okay, so I don’t hate the character but the story overall annoys me. Beren & Luthien: 

Like, I get it. Its dramatic and romantic and heroic and all of that. I’m not arguing. I also think that Luthien is basically the coolest woman to ever exist in any world at any point. But how their love story is presented overall? Eh. There are cool scenes and stuff that happens BECAUSE OF the love story, like Finrod biting a werewolf to death, Luthien talking to Carcharoth like he’s a grumpy little puppy, her defeating Morgoth and also somehow convincing Mandos to let Beren out??? All scenes are sick as fuck. But I just, still don't really understand where such deep and dramatic emotions of love for one another come from to DO all of those things. Ya know??? Idk. It’s still cute and sweet don’t get me wrong, its just really really annoys me that its framed as this “end all be all” idea of what perfect love looks like. I think what I am trying to say is that the story of Beren and Luthien seems to be blown out of proportion to me, and the bigger it grows the more it irks me. 

[sirenfromthelostcity]

The Most Pt. 1

A/N: Okay so this is my first ever John Wick fic! In a nutshell, it’s basically like a mentor X student AU. I don’t know why but i couldn’t get that idea out of my head and i really wanted to write it, so here! It’s called The Most bc it reminds me of the song with the same title from Miley Cryrus’s new EP. I wouldn’t say the fic is inspired by the song, not entirely at least, but idk to me it just vibes with it (if that makes any sense? i feel like once the second part is out it might make more sense?). This fic is intended to have a second part so that shall also be posted shortly as i have another mini John Wick fic i wanna start and i also want to write the second part to my short Spider-Man fic. I’m so excited about this story y’all! I hope you all enjoy it! As always, feedback is always appreciated. Without further ado, enjoy! :))))

Words: 2.7k+

Today marks the fourth and a half year that you’ve been under John Wick’s tutelage. Only six more months left and John will have had completed his marker. Initially, John was rather reluctant to be your instructor but the marker held by your father gave him no other choice but to abide by your father’s request to turn you into a formidable assassin. Who better to teach you than the infamous John Wick himself?

In the beginning of your training journey, John didn’t bother to hide his reluctance in your father’s request. This made things rather difficult until one day you decided to confront him about his behavior. He was in his study, probably searching for a way to get out of having to train you, when you knocked to let your presence be known then proceeded to enter.

“Evening, Mr. Wick, call me crazy, but I’m getting an inkling that you don’t want to train me.”

He scoffed.

“Believe me, I get it. I bet you’d really rather not have me intercepting with your lonesome peace and quiet but the bottom line is that I have to do this too and I have to learn it all to be as good as you. Maybe not exactly as good as you, but good enough to have me not die immediately as that would be, despite your current opinion of me, quite upsetting.”

He silently glared at you for a long minute, still not very much pleased with his current situation, “Why do you want to do this?”

“Want, who said anything about want? You may be bound by a marker, Mr. Wick, but I’m bound by my family to learn and master everything that there is to know about how to thrive in this lifestyle to survive in it.”

The room remained uncomfortably silent for sometime but you still didn’t falter in your stance.

“Before me who did you train with?” he asked.

“Well I was being trained in Krav Maga by Gabriel Avdeyev for some time but he and my family had a falling out and-–”

“I heard,” he sighed. “.... Based on the results of your initial assessment you have a lot to improve on. For starters, the way you initiate your attacks are okay but they will need to be refined or you will be killed. Get some rest. Tomorrow at dawn we will continue your training.”

Despite knowing John couldn’t actually purposely hurt or kill you, he was still very intimidating and the confrontation was rather hard to execute. But, it paid off.

Training with the notorious John Wick also meant living with him and sometimes that involved taking care of each other. Along with being a good fighter and shooter, John also stressed that one needs to know how to properly patch themselves up. He’s given you medical lessons before but to really teach you, one night he decided to not go to his usually doctor for a patch up but to go directly to you instead and see what you’ve retained from your lessons. When that great idea struck him it was in the middle of the night and he gave you quite a fright when he went into your room all bloody. You almost shot him with the gun you had hidden under your pillow if it weren’t for his quick reflexes which actually made you feel really impressed considering he was critically injured.

“Are you serious, John?” you asked, rather irked at being abruptly awoken at three in the morning.

“No, I’m bleeding. Now get up, this is part of your training. Time to see how much you’ve retained from those medical lessons,” he grunted as another pang of pain struck his lower abdomen.

You promptly threw your covers over your body and got out of bed before leading him to the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. After finding the source of his bleeding you unbuttoned his shirt and got to work. Under the circumstances, seeing John shirtless wasn’t at all awkward. However, ogling his exposed chest was the last thing on you mind considering how he was bleeding an awful lot from his lower abdomen.

“Jesus what did they nick you with? This looks really bad,” you comment as you inspect the wound.

“Broken bottle of champagne. Try to avoid those in the future, they can be pretty tricky to fix.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you proceeded to clean the wound and remove any stray traces of glass, subconsciously taking quick glances at him whenever he winced. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“Do you happen to have bourbon in any of these cabinets?”

“No, but I wouldn’t really recommend that considering how alcohol consumption can actually thin your blood out and make you bleed more.”

“But it does help with the pain.”

“Mmmmm, I’d still wager more on the pills designed specifically for that.”

John huffed. At this point you’re finally starting to stitch up his wound but his pained grunts make it a little difficult to focus.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“That’s so sad, John,” you paused to briefly glance at him. “Also super broody. We get it, you’re a badass.”

“A bad ass? That seems rude,” he sarcastically replied.

“Oh, my god, you’re actually joking with me for the second time this night. Don’t think I missed that dad joke earlier with the ‘No, I’m bleeding,’” you imitated his gruff voice and lightly laughed. “Good one, John.”

The small smile subconsciously remained on your face for a few seconds longer and John couldn’t help but admire how nicely it adorned your face. You caught him vaguely looking at you but simply assumed blood loss had something to do with the way he was looking at you. He turned away before you could even question your hypothesis.

“Well, we’re all done now. With the abdomen wound at least,” you noticed he’s also bleeding from his head and move to inspect it but his hands reached out and gently grabbed your wrists.

“It’s alright, (Y/N), I can take care of the rest, you’ve done good with the ugliest of them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John, I’m here now and I’ve got this for you.”

Never one to waste words, John remained silent which you took as a go ahead.

Thankfully the injuries on his head were nothing more than a few small cuts. At least on that night they were. Some nights John would come back with much rougher cuts, clearly showing that whoever he had fought had certainly put up a good fight but not quite good enough to best John Wick. Still, not only did cleaning his injuries provide you with insights to his battles, it helped you both establish a sense of trust between you two.  

After that night, rather than go to his usual doctor John began going straight to you for his patch ups. Could he have chosen to start going to you simply because it’s quicker than stopping by The Continental first and then home? Possibly. The reason for him basically appointing you as his patch up doc never really came up but you didn’t really care. By then your affection and attachment to John was beginning to grow so you didn’t mind being the one to help him feel better after a difficult job. Not to mention that tending to his wounds meant having a good excuse to touch him. Not while overstepping your boundaries, of course, but sometimes it was just nice to be able to be able to grab his hands without it being weird. Tending to the cuts on his face was something you always saved for last. It was your chance to really admire his facial features up close while simultaneously healing it. Sometimes you were so gentle with him that he actually managed to doze off and you were able to tell when it happened because he’d look so relaxed and serene. When you had to wake him up, although you didn’t want to but you knew he’d sleep much more comfortably in his bed than in a stiff chair, he’d always apologize for falling asleep which in effect often lead you both to joke about it. However, you swear that you caught him blushing the first few times it happened and when it did it just felt so, human…

You and John have really come a long way in terms of tolerating each other and actually bonding together. You both truly did. Because John is your instructor and you are over a decade younger than him, your relationship with him was purely professional. However, after about two years of training with him, your feelings for him continued to evolve into a much more stronger and different kind of admiration.

Are you in love with The Baba Yaga?

The answer to that would be a very strong perhaps. When you and John were briefed on the deal of the marker, you were supposed to learn about weapons training, fighting forms, assassination techniques, melee weapons training, etc. You were to learn how to become a proficient and deadly assassin, such as John, not about love or anything else that might be considered a weakness.

You hardly ever give yourself the chance to ponder on your feelings for John, much less at the possibility that he could possess the same feelings of affection towards you. It’s not as if you believe that the less you think or talk about it the less real it is, you aren’t that naive. You’ve simply decided long ago that you’re not going to act on your feelings for John. Love or anything remotely close to that is just not in the cards for people like you and John. At least that’s what you keep repeating to yourself.

Still, with your training nearing to an end you’ve been feeling really glum about it. Training with the notorious John Wick hasn’t been easy but living with and falling in love with the real man behind the legend was so foolishly easy. John is an extremely proficient killer, that much is true, but he is also a man. John is a man with dry humor, a latent love for the simpler things in life, a fun penchant for stunt driving and cars, kind and gentle eyes, and, surprisingly but also not really, a man of a very chivalrous nature. Despite the initial turbulence in your mentor-student relationship, you and John inevitably became good friends which really allowed you to see him under a different light. He often took you out to nice dinners claiming that he wanted a change of scenery from an uneventful day or simply because you did very well while training. Either way you enjoyed your outings with him and also simply appreciated being in an entirely different place, not being reminded of the person you’re supposed to become. However whenever you got injured while training to become that person, John would actually help patch you up. Although he’s taught you how to do so yourself, John would claim the medical lessons were mainly for when you are by yourself and have no one to help you and he’d remind you that he’s there with you now. Which is pretty similar to what you’ve told him the first time you helped patch him up now that you think of it. For an assassin who’s extremely well known for his brutal techniques and merciless takedowns, it astounded you to learn that the same man can also be so gentle. You’re not even officially leaving yet but you already know just how badly you’re going to miss John Wick.

In spite of yourself choosing to not focus on a particular set of feelings held for a particular person, today your brain can’t help but do the exact opposite. Today, John decided to focus more on Brazilian Jui-Jitsu. Little to your knowledge, John actually enjoys training you in this fighting form because these techniques allow a weaker or smaller attacker to successfully overpower a stronger opponent by manipulating the human body and redirecting it’s force. Therefore, if you do it right, you could use the opponent's strength against them and take them down. Usually you do very well in this form of martial arts but today John is able to tell you’re not fully there with him. Although John is very good at Brazilian Jui-Jitsu you’re level of skill is practically on par with his as well and you’re current struggle to beat him is alerting him.

Currently, John has you in locked in a rear choke hold on the ground, with one arm wrapped around your neck, his other arm around your free arm, and one leg wrapped around your other arm preventing you from breaking free. You struggle for a few seconds, realizing there’s no use, he’s already one this match, and grunt in frustration. John loosens his grip around you but doesn’t fully release you yet, he brings his lips close to your ear, “What’s wrong?”

The feel of his breath on your skin sends shivers down your spine, yet you quickly and physically swat those thoughts to the side and shake your head, “Right now you have me in a choke hold and I can’t get out of it, John. I don’t know about you but this seems like a pretty big issue for me.”

John instantly releases his grip on you and rises up, he’s about to lend you a hand to get up as well but you’ve already beaten him to that.

“That’s not what I meant, (Y/N). Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you insist. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“For starters, I’ve been kicking your ass in this all day when I know I’ve taught you better than that. And for another, you just seem very distracted today.”  

John is as perceptive as he is deadly, which is why you don’t bother lying to him again and instead insist on continuing to train.

You look down for a second before looking up, making sure to avoid his concerned gaze, “Look, John, do you mind if we just call it in for the day?”

“Something is wrong,” he states.

“John,” you impatiently groan.   

“Why won’t you just tell me what the issue is?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it!” you snap and instantly regret it, rubbing at your temples. “Okay, I did not mean to say it like that. I’m sorry. I just need to cool off right now, John…”

This time you don’t wait for permission and simply walk away, however, John doesn’t try to stop you either. Not because he doesn’t care, quite the contrary in fact. Concerned and confused, John intently watches you head towards your room. He begins to trail after you but halts in his steps deciding that right now the  best option would be to give you your space. Still, John can’t help but wonder about what could possibly be troubling your mind so much and why you refuse to speak of it.

He glances one last time in the direction you previously walked in before heading towards the kitchen and serving himself a shot of bourbon.

“You can’t do anything about it!” your words replay in his mind.

“She’ll tell me when she’s ready,” he mentally tells himself. “We’ll figure it out then.”

John downs two more shots, currently finding it difficult to dwindle his concern and thoughts of you, before taking off in the direction of his room. He encounters the door to your bedroom on his way and halts at the entrance. He balls his hand into a fist and raises it to knock on your door but slowly brings it down and proceeds to head to his room. After finally entering his room, he gives your door one last glance before closing his door and retreating to his room for the remainder of the day.

[sleepy-sunlight]

Your Worst Fear (Cullen x Inquisitor/Reader)

While finding a way out of the fade, Nightmare reveals what terrifies you the most.

Word Count: 1334

IDK I have a lot of angst ideas lately so here we go! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy and have a fantastic day!! Thank you!! ῍̻̩✧(´͈ ૢᐜ `͈ૢ)˖῍̻̩

Also, I never played as a mage and don’t usually do so but I thought it fit best with the context of Cullen’s character. If this sounds odd or doesn’t really fit with the mage class please let me know!! Thank you!!

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You put away your staff, letting out a gruff sigh, sweat beading down your forehead as you glanced about all the scattered corpses of spiders. 

You hadn’t the faintest idea of why they appeared in that form.

Spiders irked you, but they didn’t send a chill down your spine or leave you shaking to the very core. 

Hardly even.

“Let’s keep going,” You remarked, glancing back at your companions. “is everyone okay?” 

They all nodded at least eventually, Hawke so apprehensive as to seemingly wipe the hesitation from them, preparing to march ahead. 

Until a bellowing call stopped them.

“Inquisitor,” Nightmare called out to you, your hand snapping back around your staff, fingers curling around it tightly. “You couldn’t possibly think I’d forget you.” 

“Oh please enlighten me,” You mocked, curling your lip. “What have you got for me?” 

“You ought to drop the act Inquisitor,” Nightmare berated, a low growl rumbling in their words. “I don’t think you’ll like the surprise.” 

You held back a response, waiting, watching.

And then you heard it. 

Yelling.

It was desperate and enraged, as though a fire was sparked from their very voice.

But that wasn’t what frightened, or sent ice coursing through your body - no it wasn’t that sound.

It was that you recognized it. 

You felt yourself almost instinctively step back wearily, eyes widening like saucers as you heard the clanking of heavy metal armor smashing against itself, growing closer and closer by the second. 

“Maker no...” You murmured, dragging out your staff, somehow convinced you would be able to bring yourself to use it. “this can’t be-” 

You were stopped as the figure came before you, their boots digging into the ground as they came to a halt, figments of soldiers following behind their commander.

Your Commander.

Cullen.

His eyes flared with a hatred you had never seen, his skin pale and expression murky, as though unsure of his own reality.

“There! The mage!” He snarled, your heart threatening to break at the disgust in his tone. “Strike them down! Now!” 

“Cullen,” You murmured, shaking more than you had even in the coldest days of Haven, unable to move a single muscle. “i-it’s me...” 

He didn’t respond, unsheathing his sword without a word, beginning to charge after you.

“What’re you doing...?” You spoke up a bit louder, your mind screaming, shrieking to run or cast a spell, nothing coming from it. “Stop...please...!” 

You watched as he raised up his sword, either not even listening to your words or unable, 

“Cullen!” 

Hawke clamped onto your shoulder, wretching you back, pulling you behind them as they prepared to get in the way, drawing their weapon. 

“No stop!” You couldn’t help but exclaim, pushing them back. “Don’t hurt them-” 

You gasped as you watched Dorian struck out his staff, a bolt of electricity smashing into Cullen, the warrior stumbling back in his daze.

“Dorian!” 

“Sorry I didn’t let you get your head sliced off Inquisitor!” He puffed out his cheeks indignantly, scowling. “But you should know that’s not your advisor!” 

“Surround them! Don’t let one escape!” Cullen, barked the orders, the soldiers cutting you off from the front, templar sigils engraved on their armor. “Don’t take any prisoners.” 

“You have to kill him.” 

You looked to Dorian, horrified, your knees nearly buckling at the thought. 

“N-No I-I can’t...!” 

You glanced to Cullen.

He still had those bright amber eyes that would light up as you’d walk into your office, a warmth in his gaze only meant for you whenever he caught sight of you.

He still had the same scarred hands that’d ribbon with yours, never quite wanting to let go as if you may fade away with the smallest breeze.

He still had the voice that’d whisper little things into your ear as you’d walk side by side, so close that your shoulders brushed, his words faint and soft, only meant for you.

And he still had the soul of the man you adored.

“I...I won’t.” 

You took in a sharp breath as Cullen raced after you, aiming his sword, no ounce of care inside of him as he struck down.

You fought back a cry as you slammed down your staff, creating a barrier, a sickening hiss as his weapon only rammed into your magic.

And kept doing so.

You had never gripped anything tighter than you had that, hoping - praying that it would never break - that you’d never have to face the templar trying to break past it. 

“Cullen just please-!” You yelled, closing your lids as tight as you could, refusing to open them. “Just s-stop please!” 

You threw up your head, for a moment meeting his gaze and seeing a falter.

It was merely a flicker, like a dying spark of a lantern - maybe just a mistake in your head, but somehow there.

“Listen to me-” 

Blackwall slammed into him, his ax crashing into Cullen’s side, an almost innate response as the commander twisted towards him, his sword hurling to the other man’s leg, red staining the metal as he drew back. 

You cursed beneath your sigh, breaking the spell as you put yourself between the two, moving Blackwall away, despite his fuming yells. 

“Inquisitor let me-” 

“Stay back! Everyone just-” 

Pain.

You suddenly felt pain.

It sliced through your back, a sudden horrifying burning erupting in you, a scream echoing from you. 

You managed to turn your head, seeing Cullen ready to attack again, a feeling of terror you hadn’t known possible sinking into the pit of your stomach.

You hadn’t even moved.

You found yourself frozen in place, almost accepting it, tears brimming at the ends of your eyes.

Until you were thrown down.

You faded in and out of consciousness as the others began rushing after Cullen, a flurry of yells as you struggled to your feet your vision blurred and messy. 

You only truly snapped back into reality as you heard a holler cut off short. 

And you knew.

You staggered towards the group of people, shoving past them in a sort of without a single thought, a denial choking up in your throat before you saw it.

Blood coated Cullen’s body, his breathing ragged as he fought to stay on his feet, his heavy grip on his sword faltering, trembling in his grip. 

“Love please-”

You reached out, a pang of sorrow hitting you as he shifted away at the touch, falling back onto his knees. 

“Don’t you-Don’t you dare touch-” 

You ignored him, collapsing against him, your arms coiling around him, refusing to let go.

And whether he was too worn down to push you away, or some bit of the man you knew was there - he didn’t reject you.

He sank against you just a tad, sweat dripping from his forehead.

You felt him begin to pass in your hold, his heartbeat passing on and his weapon dropping from his palms. 

But as he did you swore you heard the familiar voice that would speak to you so often, tender and gentle even then.

“I-I’m sorry.” 

You shattered.

Sobbing, you gripped him as tight as you ever could, your shoulders heaving and limbs shivering, afraid to open your eyes.

Not what lay ahead.

But for who lay in your arms.

[readysetjo]

PS/ SS - Chapter 5 - Diagon Alley

@alluringcliche @feelsandotps @wearywanderer @xingshining

I’m wondering what personal story I’m going to share today!

Also, I’m sleepy I hope that doesn’t affect (?)/ effect (?)/ change/ manipulate/ twist/ adjust (I am avoiding looking up the difference between the words “affect” and “effect” for the 100th time in my life) my normal chapter liveblog. I was dedicated to writing this tonight, tho. 

I forget that they didn’t automatically leave after that tense evening discussion

I have a headcanon that the pouches on The Daily Prophet’s owls have a charm that vanishes the money and deposits it into a Gringotts bank account. Otherwise the birds would get so heavy-ladened after a while and I imagine that the Prophet’s bird’s would be frequently stolen from. Imagine working at the Prophet’s owlery. That would be a little fun for a time.

Hagrid just trusts Harry with rummaging through his coat to find his money. He’s either really sleepy or far too trusting. 

“yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob [Gringotts].” /// lol Hagrid so had a chat with Harry about this memory later.

I’d like to see more of the tense dynamic between Fudge and Dumbledore. I bet Fudge would have been so funny to watch come undone under the weight of being Minister and slowly going from asking DD for help nearly every day to telling the reporters/ editors at the Prophet to slip in snide comments about DD. I want to watch that train wreck. 

Hagrid’s reasoning to why the Wizarding World is separate from the Muggle one is kind of odd to me. “everyone’d be wantin’ magic solutions to their problems.” Like honestly the actual result of that would probably be a capitalistic one in which the average magical person would be able to sell their magical “solutions to problems” for money. This would just lead to the magical community becoming very wealthy. That’s not really a bad thing (on the surface/ from a wizard’s POV). I think the most logical answer is: “Our community is so different from the Muggle one that creating rules to enforce for the two societies coinciding would be so difficult that we keep ourselves separate in order that we can both create individual systems that works for each society.Also, we are trying to avoid causing strain with a power imbalance.” 

“Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up” /// I grew up very short with a very tall dad, so I really can relate haha. I would have to occasionally remind him how my stride was two of his. 

I wonder what Hagrid was knitting. 

I feel like the HP fandom should have had a running joke by now that any deserted store in a strip mall was the entrance to a wizarding community. Tho it seems like the entrance was not visible or had a like “don’t look at me” charm on it rather than how St. Mungo’s was hidden behind a deserted shop. 

“Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry’s shoulder and making Harry’s knees buckle.” /// That I can’t relate to lol. 

“I’m all of a flutter.” /// What a funny and great way to put that lol.

Dedalussssssss!!! One of Harry’s first magical “acquaintances” XD and the truly brave soul who (along with Hestia Jones) watched the Dursley’s for nearly a year. I don’t usually make the joke but... “Rubeus Dedalus Potter you were named for-”

“’What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?’ [asked Harry] ‘D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts,’ muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he’s rather not think about it.’”/// 1. I died. I forgot about this line! 2. He went on a year-long break from work to do some research. That is so Ravenclaw. 3. What if Quirrell became known for wearing beanies instead of a turban? 4. I forgot how it was possible that Quirrell could shake Harry’s hand right now. 5. I forgot why Harry’s scar didn’t hurt right now. (I’ll probably remember soon enough, but I wouldn’t mind reminders if I don’t.)  6. You know those words that trip you up for no good reason? Yeah, well I’ve got quite the arsenal of those, but one of them happens to be “squirrel” (why? idk?) and this man helped me remember that the word has two “R”s in it.

“Harry wished he had about eight more eyes.” /// Harry Spider

I wonder what is the cool new broomstick model right now. 

Gringotts colors are scarlet and gold and I never noticed before. I think they wore black in the movies or just like nice work clothes. Also, I would like to go to Shell’s Cottage and hear Bill and Fleur tell me all about how Gringotts got started. I am fascinated. 

The poem on the door about stealing from Gringotts is so funny to me bc I am just thinking about how cabs have like signs that say that the driver doesn’t carry over a certain amount of money. These are two very different philosophies of deterring a thief. 

Three times JKR foreshadowed to us just how stupid it would be to try and rob Gringotts. 

Our Muggle banks and safety deposit boxes are so much more efficient and I am grateful. 

 Hey there Griphook! Well be seeing you again!

So Dumbledore would have told all the professors what they were hiding in Hogwarts, due to asking them for their help to do it right? But did they know why they were hiding the Sorcerer’s Stone? Did they too know that they were trying to suppress Voldemort’s return? I kinda hope they did. It seems to be that Hagrid did.

I like to imagine these seemingly perpetually grumpy goblins actually love their twisty roller coaster-ish cart rides under London. 

“Harry didn’t know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money.” /// So happy for him!!

Hagrid told him to get his uniform first almost like a parent haha. 

Reminder that Harry disliked Draco for his awful character right from the very beginning and that Draco set himself up for the foul life he ended up with by never seeing the goodness in others as something that he should want too. (I don’t say this to any of you four Questers bc I think you all would agree, but I just had to say it.)

I like how popular and big football is that even wizards know what it is and use it to compare to Quidditch. OMG I’m so stupid I’m just remembering one of the best eras in post-HP publishing history and getting emotional about it. Does anyone remember the 2014 Quidditch World Cup. I obsessed over it that summer and read every word that Ginny wrote and ahhhhh I miss it. I miss Quidditch and Pottermore publishing updates with chapter art and meta and character backgrounds. What a golden era post-DH. 

I like that Hagrid said that toads went “out of fashion years ago” so that means that, at one point, toads were vogue and that’s amazing by itself. I bet the professors hated that time. The constant low croaking coming from everyone’s pockets. 

“For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in [Ollivanders] seemed to tingle with some secret magic.” /// I love that feeling when it happens in real life. Like when you discover a cute little stream on a hike or a beautiful old library. 

I sometimes wish I had the memory of Ollivander. 

The second “you have your mother’s eyes” drink!

Ollivander had some personal space invading issues. (And it irks me.)

I know I already said that I want to know about like three things in this liveblog, but I’m desperate to know more about wandlore too. I want more facts.

I kind of like that the more difficult it was to find Harry a wand, the happier Ollivander got. That’s a good attitude to have right there. That’s how you know you love your job.

Voldemort’s wand was 13 inches and Harry’s was 11 inches. That means that there’s a chance that Voldemort’s phoenix’s core feather was longer than Harry’s and, therefore lower on Fawkes’ tail. 

Gosh wands are expensive. 

Goodbye, Ollie, see you later. 

Why did they not buy a trunk in Diagon Alley? Where did Harry even get a trunk that he carries around with him for 7 years? These are the real plot holes!  jkjkjk

That chapter was a little longer than usual. But since this one has less chapters in it, we are actually almost one third through with it. That’s wild!