#Sm:hoco

[gracieparkerr]

another ANOTHER fun fact is that in far from home’s deleted scene where he sells his retro figurines for money to buy mj’s necklace, those figurines were all previously seen in his sm:hoco bedroom :-)

makes me giggle that (imo) the most consistent thing in the mcu spidey movies is the set decor

being a fanfic author is awesome because I need to do Very Important literary research for accuracy and it's just rewatching my favourite movies and Youtubing the cool superhero scenes and impeccable angst.

ah yes research (how did Tony's eyes glint in that fight scene again? What did Peter say to Tony on that rooftop? Did the lightning zap when Steve picked up the hammer? Lemme watch a montage of funny Sam Wilson moments to get his speech pattern right)

this is why it's important to write about what you love

[darlinglavender]

they should've kept Peter's hair ✧ curly ✧

[spidey-chelles]

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING (2017)

[babybluebex]

desperados [arvin russell x reader smut]

➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader ➽ word count: 4.0k ➽ summary: arvin gets revenge against the man who wronged the girls he loves.  ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, fingering (f!receiving), graphic violence, is getting to third base in a church parkling lot a warning? probably, excessive mentions of tom’s abs ➽ a/n: make sure to check out the sequel to this on my blog!! thanks for reading!

I saw Arvin’s hands shaking fiercely. The sun was nearly lowered over the distant mountains and people in this town were sure to talk about how the orphan Russell boy had come and picked me up this close to night, but I knew Arvin. He wasn’t very talkative, so his affection (and I use that term lightly) came in other ways. He always let me have his last cigarette, even though I barely smoked. He had saved a seat on the school bus for me, back before we graduated. He was kind, just not in the ways that Coal Creek knew. I knew, when I heard Arvin’s old ‘51 Chevy in front of my house, that he needed me; I jumped in his car before my mom had time to tell me to get dressed decently. 

“Arv,” I whispered. “What’s going on? Where’re we going?” 

Arvin took a deep breath, but he didn’t answer. He looked out his window before returning his gaze to the front windshield, and his fingers began to tap on his steering wheel. “He killed my Lenora,” he mumbled finally. “Light me a smoke, would ya?” 

It took a moment for his words to register. Ever since Lenora died, Arvin had become distant, nearly a whole different man. He went to work and went back to his grandmother’s house. He barely made time for me anymore. That was alright, though; he had lost the only person he had ever really loved. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t much to him, other than someone who tolerated him. 

“I thought Lenora…” I began and swallowed my words. He had requested a cigarette. I reached into the backseat where his jacket was slung and tugged out his crushed box of cigarettes and a matchbox, and I lit him a cigarette. I passed it to him, and he carefully took it between his fingers. 

“Ain’t you gonna take the first gasp?” Arvin asked, managing a weak chuckle. His eyes were dark and focused, and there was nothing behind his smile. Levity, I assumed, to make me feel better about whatever was happening. 

“My mama would skin me if I came home smelling like smoke,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. “Go ‘head, Arv.”

Arvin lifted his hand to his mouth, his thin lips wrapping around the end, and he took a deep pull at it. He blew the smoke out of his nose, and he said, “Lenora did it to herself, yeah, but he made her do it. He drove her to it.” 

“Who’s he?” I asked. 

“Did that Teagardin son ova bitch ever lay his hands on you?” Arvin asked quickly. His gaze flicked to me, curled up next to him, still wearing my house shoes and pajamas. No makeup, no cover-up; I would be the talk of the town the next morning, I knew it. 

“Pastor Teagardin?” I clarified, and Arvin nodded. “No. He tried, though, I think. Once.” 

“Ya think?” Arvin repeated. “God damn it, Y/N, what he’d do to you?” 

“He didn’t do nothing,” I said quickly. “He’s old enough to be my daddy, ya know how sick that is?” 

“You said he tried,” Arvin rebutted. “Tried to do what?” 

I huffed out a breath. “I stayed after a service on Wednesday night a few months ago to help Mrs. Teagardin gather up hymns and stuff. She went off to do something, and Brother Preston approached me. Said he… Said he saw me hanging out with you… Saw us drinking and smoking… And he said I gotta repent for my sins. Jesus, the man thought we fucked. He made me get down on my knees to pray, but I heard his belt ‘fore anything happened. Told him I’d call the sheriff on him if he tried anything like that again.” 

Arvin breathed deeply, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “That’s three,” he said. “You, the Reaster girl… and Lenora.” 

My heart sank into my stomach. As much as I loved Lenora, she was naive. From the day that she was born, she trusted everybody. If she had ever been with someone, they took advantage of her. Maybe not with violence, but advantage nonetheless. “No,” I mumbled. “He didn’t… Not her.” 

“Coroner said Lenora was pregnant,” Arvin told me. He situated his cigarette in his mouth, and his hand floated down to rest on my knee. “I just know it was him. Who the fuck else would it be?”

“Arvin, what’re you doing?” I asked. “Where’re we going?”

“I’m going down to that church,” Arvin began. “And I’m killing that son of a bitch Pastor Teagardin.” 

“Arvin!” I yelped. “You’re not! You can’t-- How--?”

The car rolled to a stop in front of the small church, the gravel crunching under the tires. Arvin squeezed my knee, shutting me up, and he leaned forward and dug around behind him for a moment. Slowly, from the back of his pants, Arvin pulled out a small revolver gun. My breath caught in my throat; Arvin was rough around the edges, sure, but never did I think I would see him with a gun in his hands. My Arvin looked so unsure of the weapon, but his thumb clicked the hammer back, readying it to shoot, and I saw something behind his eyes change. He wasn’t vindictive, but revenge was a choice that had to be made. Arvin made his choice. 

“A German luger,” Arvin mumbled, his cigarette still in his mouth. “My daddy told my uncle Earvell that it’s the gun Hitler killed himself with.” 

I couldn’t manage any words. My lips fell open in shock, my brain struggling to make any coherent thought out of what was happening. “Arvin,” I finally choked out. “You ain’t really gonna kill Pastor Teagardin, are you?” 

“He killed my sister,” Arvin said, his voice low in his chest. “He tried to hurt you. Who says he won’t try that shit again?” 

“Arvin, you don’t need to avenge me,” I said quickly. My hands grasped his, and I fumbled with his fingers to release the gun. “Lenora wouldn’t want this.” 

“How do you know?” Arvin asked. His eyes, the color of dark West Virginian molasses, locked on mine, and his hands came up to capture my face. He was shaking violently, and I wasn’t sure that he would even be able to hold his gun. “None of us will ever know what Lenora would want. I knew her better than goddamn anyone else on this earth, and I think I know. I know, Y/N. And even if he didn’t manage to hurt you, it’s the thought that he would try that-- I don’t know how many other girls he’s got to. I’m doing this whole damn town a service by getting rid of him.” 

I gulped in a breath, trying to stop myself from crying. “What’re ya gonna do once you’re done?” I asked. “You can’t stay here.” 

“I’m not,” Arvin said. “I don’t know where I’m gonna go, but far away from fuckin’ Coal Creek. I want you to come with me.” 

“Arv, I got my family here,” I said quickly. “My momma and my daddy, I can’t just leave them.” 

“Y/N,” Arvin sighed heavily. His eyes softened and his thumb pressed into my cheek kindly, and he said, “I can’t leave you here. I love you too damn much.” 

“Arvin Russell, I love you too, but I--” I began. “I can’t.”

“Y/N,” Arvin said firmly. “I love you. And I want you to come with me.” 

This was different. Arvin had told me that he loved me before, but I always thought he had meant “as a friend” or “as a sister”. Had I been mistaken this whole time? Did Arvin care for me differently than he could ever care for Lenora? “You…” I started. “You love me?” 

“I’ve loved you since the day I laid my eyes on you,” Arvin told me. “Fucking seventh grade, your hair was in these little braids, you offered me a seat on the school bus. I thought it was… A crush. But Lenora showed me real love, and I know that I love you. I have always loved you, Y/N. Please, wherever I go, I can’t go without you. I need you, love.” 

Tears were welled up in Arvin’s eyes, and he sniffled back his emotions. I hated that. Arvin always tried to hide his emotions and, ever since I had known him, he had only cried in front of me once: the night Lenora died, he came to my house, eyes puffy, and he buried his head in my chest and heaved sobs into me. The strangled sounds of anguish had stayed with me and haunted me in the night, and I never wanted to see Arvin hurting like that again. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll come with you.” 

Arvin nodded slowly. The tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip as he looked behind me to the small church, Pastor Teagardin’s fancy Cadillac parked in front. “Now, I don’t know what’s gonna happen in there,” he began. “Gimme an hour. If I ain’t back by then, leave. Get outta here, you never knew me. Alright?” 

“You don’t think you’d…” I started, and the ache in my heart forced me to stop talking. “Don’t die, Arv. My heart couldn’t take it.” A moment passed where the both of us were still and silent, and finally Arvin’s hand carefully moved to the back of my neck. Quietly, he pulled me close to him and pressed his lips to mine, and my stomach flipped around inside of my body. I had never kissed anyone before, but his kiss felt right. Arvin broke the kiss first, his lips lingering just before mine, and I thought about how my momma had told me that boys didn’t like when girls made the first move. Arvin had kissed me first, though, so, if I kissed back, that wasn’t making the first move. My momma was forever concerned with how people saw me, but, if I was going to run away with a man about to murder, I felt like maybe those societal pleasantries could be pushed aside. 

I took Arvin’s coat collar in my hands and tugged him closer, and I reconnected our lips. Arvin was on the same page as me, his hands falling to my waist as easily as if he had done it a hundred times before. His kiss was hungry, like a man depraved, and he guided me to lean against the car door. He moved on top of me, one hand moving above my head to brace against the car door, his other hand pushing my shirt up to expose my stomach. I knew he wanted to see more but was waiting for my permission, and I broke the kiss with a laugh. “This ain’t like ya, Arv,” I giggled. 

Arvin seemed to almost wake up, and he moved away from me. “Sorry,” he said, his voice rumbling. “Don’t know what got into me--”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” I told him. “I was saying that you don’t normally ask for permission to do things, you just… Do.” 

“When it comes to pretty girls, I always ask,” Arvin told me. He hovered over me again, his eyes drinking in the sight of me, and I pushed the rugged ball cap off of his head to expose his chestnut hair. 

“Got a lotta experience with pretty girls, huh?” I asked, and the corner of Arvin’s mouth quirked into a devilish smile. 

“Well, we doin’ this now, ain’t we?” Arvin asked. “I’m thinking this is all the experience I need.” 

“Shut your fucking mouth and kiss me, Arv,” I scoffed, and Arvin dove back in. His palm rested on my jaw, his thumb on my cheek, and he kissed me like nobody has ever kissed me. His warm tongue was inside my mouth, drawing quiet moans from the depths of my chest, and his free hand pulled my shirt up, up, up, until I was forced to pull away from his mouth to tug it over my head. My mouth felt chapped from his dark stubble, but my breasts welcomed the roughness. He kissed my mouth, then my neck, then situated himself to bury his face between my breasts. He kissed them, then took one in his hand and squeezed until I whimpered, and I felt him smirk against my tender skin. 

“Ya like that, darlin’?” Arvin rasped, and I nodded quickly. “I thought so. You’re making such damn pretty noises, I could listen forever.” 

Arvin’s kisses trailed down the middle of my chest, then his mouth refocused on my nipple, stiffened with excitement. His tongue circled it and he gave it a hard suck, hard enough for me to yelp and pull at his hair. This seemed to urge him on, because he started to kiss and gently nip all over my breasts. My skin tingled with each kiss, and his knee found its way between my legs. His thigh pressed lightly into my already-soaked core, and I suddenly felt like I was suffocating with the heat inside of the car. “Arv, shit, hold on,” I mumbled and lifted my hips to take my pants off. His free hand came down and helped me, and his warm palm replaced his thigh once I was bare. 

Not once had I ever been touched there. The feeling was foreign but not unwelcome, especially since it was Arvin. I panted, trying to sort myself out, and Arvin pressed a soft kiss to the shell of my ear. “You alright there, darlin’?” he asked, his hand melting away from my body. “Need me to stop?” 

“No,” I said. “Keep going, Arv. Please. I’ll die if you don’t keep on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Arvin chuckled, and his hand went back to my cunt. The pad of his middle finger massaged my wetness, and he pushed his finger past my folds and carefully pressed just the tip of his finger into me. I moaned at the sweet goodness of it all, and I opened my eyes to see Arvin watching me. He didn’t seem to be studying me-- his eyebrows weren’t drawn together in consideration-- but he seemed to be admiring me. I tugged him down to my lips by his hair and kissed him, and his finger pressed further into me. Arvin’s kiss moved to my neck, and he slowly began to pump his finger inside of me. I never knew anything could feel so good. “More,” I whispered, my head falling back to expose my throat to him, and he nipped at my throat before he pushed his ring finger in to meet his middle finger. “Fuck, Arv, this ain’t fair at all,” I gasped. 

“What d’ya mean, darlin’?” Arvin asked, his fingers moving with increasing quickness inside me, massaging something in me that I didn’t know existed. It made my legs shake. 

“Arvin,” I whimpered. “Take-- Oh, fuck!” His fingers had pressed right into that sweet spot in my body, and the pleasure made my middle seize up. “T-Take off those goddamn pants, please.” 

“Always so polite,” Arvin smirked. His fingers retreated from me and, in the fading sunlight coming through the sweating windows, I saw my wetness glistening on his fingers as he undid his belt. He whipped his belt off and tossed it into the backseat before he started to take off his ripped and dirty work pants. Arvin worked on the roads and I knew that the hard labor had gotten him fit, but, as I pulled his shirt off while he removed his pants, I was faced with his body. His chest and stomach were as hard as a rock, his muscles taut under his skin, and his arms bulged with a tight but lithe strength. His middle came down in a sharp V to his cock, half-hard, the tip flushed, resting on one of his built thighs. I had never really paid attention to how attractive Arvin was-- he had a nice face and gave me tight hugs, but that was about as far as I thought of his body or attractiveness. Arvin was so much more than attractive, though. The sight of his body, tanned and scarred and built like an Italian statue, made me face a truth that might have been hard to swallow twenty minutes ago. 

“Arvin,” I whispered, pressing my hand to his face. His cheek was warm under my fingers, and his jaw clenched as he awaited my words. “Fuck me, Arvin. I want you.” 

“That’s what I was planning on doin’, darlin’,” Arvin drawled, and his hand went to his cock. He stroked himself a few times until he was fully hard, and, by then, he had a thin sheen on sweat on his upper lip. Maybe it wasn’t our clothes that made me sweat and suffocate; it was hot as the devil in this car. The windows were fogged up against the cool West Virginia night, and I reached up and pushed Arvin’s sweaty curls from his forehead. The moment of tenderness seemed to stop Arvin in his tracks, because his eyes lifted from himself to mine, and he gave me an uncharacteristically-sheepish smile. “Everything alright there?” 

“Oh, I’m more than alright, Arv,” I whispered. “Just lookin’ at you.” The sunset, nearly done, cast orange light into the car, right onto Arvin’s face, and it caught the flush in his cheeks. 

“I…” he started. “I ain’t ever done this before. Never got this far with a girl before.” 

“Me neither,” I said. “I haven’t even been kissed before tonight.” 

“You still want to…” Arvin began. His cockiness was gone, replaced with a tender intimacy that I was surprised to see existed inside of Arvin Russell. 

“I do,” I said. “If it means I get a few extra minutes with you ‘fore you go confront Pastor Teagardin.” 

“That’s not the only reason, is it?” Arvin asked. 

“Of course not,” I told him. “I just don’t…” I paused and struggled for the right words. “Don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I won’t,” Arvin said. “Son of a bitch ain’t even got a gun.”

The reminder of what Arvin had yet to do made me feel sick to my stomach. My Arvin wasn’t a murderer; was he? I felt the sick rise in my throat, and I struggled to open the car door and contort myself to vomit out into the gravel and grass. I felt Arvin take a handful of my loose hair and hold it away from my face, and I gasped as I felt the burning in my nose. “I shouldn’t’ve said that shit,” Arvin whispered in my ear. “I’m sorry, love.” 

“So!” A man’s voice called, and I lifted my head to see Pastor Preston Teagardin standing a few yards away from the car, but certainly close enough to know what Arvin and I had been doing. “Couldn’t handle him, could ya, girly? Y’all got a little trigger in the back of y’all’s throats, ya know. Might do you good to remember that.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Arvin barked. His pants rustled as he pulled them back on, and he gave me his shirt to pull on quickly. My hands were shaking nearly too hard for me to dress myself, but I managed to put his shirt on my body. I shut the car door behind me as Arvin opened his, and I shoved the gun into the back of his pants quickly. I hoped that Pastor Teagardin hadn’t seen that. “Don’t you talk ‘bout my Y/N like that.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Pastor Teagardin drawled, his voice dripping sarcasm like honey. ”I thought y’all were the ones fucking at the church!”

“You gotta lotta nerve talkin’ to me like that,” Arvin shouted. His voice bounced around the empty space, sending a chill up my spine. I grabbed my panties and pulled them on as I listened to the confrontation, and, even though I didn’t care too much for God, I made a quick prayer to protect my Arvin. “After what you did to my sister and my wife.” 

Wife. Was he saying that to give himself humility? To add credence to his argument? No matter the reason, even if it was a slip of the tongue, it warmed my stomach and cemented in my mind that Arvin really did love me. 

“What I did--!” Teagardin scoffed. “Your sister got in that state with some boy! She was delusional, got it in her head that I was the daddy and that I would provide! I had nothing to do with that bastard child! And your wife! Your wife? Who, the whore of Coal Creek, tryna fuck you on top of your sister’s grave?” 

Arvin moved as quick as lightning, drawing his gun and focusing it on Teagardin. I saw the pastor flinch away and he shouted, “God damn it, boy! Put the gun down and we can talk ‘bout this like real men!”

Arvin’s thumb pulled back the hammer and I heard the solid click of a bullet entering the chamber. “I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be,” Arvin said, scarily calm. 

“What makes you say that?” Teagardin asked. “‘Cause you’ve got a gun?” 

“Any man can have a gun,” Arvin said. “It’s ‘cause I got the balls to use it.”

The gun went off, and the air froze. The second felt like a vacuum, forever expanding. I saw Arvin jolt away from the gunshot, I saw his arm kick up at the force of the gun, and I saw the back of Pastor Teagardin’s head explode like it had been detonated from inside.

I didn’t even realize that I was screaming. It hurt my throat and rang in my ears but I didn’t register it. It wasn’t until Arvin threw the car door open and kneeled down next to me that I became aware of what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop. Arvin’s face screwed up in anger and he slammed his hand down on the roof of the car hard enough to leave a dent. “God damn it, woman, shut your fucking mouth!” Arvin growled. “Someone’s gonna hear you!”

“Arvin,” I gasped. My entire body was shaking and the sick feeling returned. “Arvin, you--” 

“I know what I did,” Arvin whispered firmly. “I know… Did you see where the bullet shell went?” 

I shook my head quickly, my knees crawling up to press against my chest protectively. “No,” I sniffled. I was crying. “Arvin, we gotta leave here.” 

“I know, love,” Arvin whispered. He sat in front of me for a second more before putting a shaking hand on my knee in a meek act of comfort. “You can go home. You can pretend like none of this ever happened.” 

“How do I…” I began. “I’m never gonna be able to forget that… Looked like pie filling… And I can’t lose you, Arvin. Not-Not after I just got you the way I want you.” 

“You really wanna come with me?” Arvin asked. “Ya sure?” 

“Yes,” I told him. “I’m sure, Arvin. Please, fuck, get in the car, we need to go.” 

Arvin returned to the car and we quietly put all of our clothes back on. Arvin gave me a bundle of floral fabric to wear instead of my pajamas, and I unraveled it to find a young woman’s dress. My heart sank and I looked at Arvin for an explanation, and he mumbled, “S’not Lenora’s. Found it in a box of my momma’s stuff, looked like your size.” 

“You brought a dress along before you knew I’d agree to come with you?” I asked. I slipped off Arvin’s shirt and put the dress on and, when my head emerged, I found Arvin giving me that same tender look from before. “Unless you always knew I’d come with.” 

“That’s the thing ‘bout you, love,” Arvin chuckled lightly. “You’re usually so predictable.” 

As we left, I gave one last look to Pastor Teagardin’s body, laying in the grass and gravel, never knowing what happened to him. He heard the gunshot; maybe he felt the pain of the back of his skull exploding outward. As I watched his body disappear with the distance, I felt like I knew him well. He was a man-- a wicked man, yes-- but he preached it best. It wasn’t worth much to put up a fight against the sins of the flesh. 

I wrapped my hands around Arvin’s free arm as he drove, and I pressed myself into him. Night fell as we drove, leaving our headlights to be the sole light, and it was once I saw a broke-down sign saying that we had entered Ohio that I thought to ask, “Where’re we going?” 

“Knockemstiff, Ohio. I wanna go bury my dog and this gun and start over… With you.”

[moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom]

Peter: I got a headache :/

Peter: Google says I’m gonna die

Steve: Why is Google sending you death threats for having a headache?

[xeyoaa]

he jump

[the-name-is-stephen-strange]

US elections right now

[lazy-cat-corner]

Thor: See, brother. Quarantine wasn’t that bad.

Loki after spending quarantine on youtube and consuming every meme possible: [twirling glow sticks] ‘cause every time we touch I feel the static!

Thor: What’s this?

Peter: [banging pots and pans] -and every time we kiss I reach for the sky! 😃

Ned: [throws textbook] -Can’t you hear my heart beat so, I can’t let you go. I want you in my life.

Thor: [dodges textbook] Can I just say-

Loki, Peter and Ned:

[hollandsosterfield-blog]

no lego of ned, no funko of ned, no poster of ned...

stop sleeping on ned leeds 2k19

[pikatsum]

I’m not entirely sure what to think about Marvel’s upcoming Fantastic 4 movie, but I do know that if it doesn’t include Peter Parker telling Johnny Storm to “get bent” I will be SORELY disappointed.

[fancyfrogg]

Hey look it’s peterman and all his friends. Shuri and Harley are also here because I said so

[kodzusken]

peter parker x quote

“the greatest” by sia

[darlinglavender]

∴ he means more to me than you will ever know. ∴

⋑ tony stark caring for his son peter parker in the mcu

[spidey-chelles]

It's just me and you.

[babybluebex]

it takes two [peter parker]

➽ pairing: peter parker x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 3.0k ➽ summary: an accidental discovery leads peter and you to discuss poly-nylons, tony stark, and aunt may’s burnt meatloaf.   ➽ warnings: awkward teenage feels, fluff, all that good stuff ➽ a/n: nerdy little peter melts my heart uwu. enjoy!

“Hey, Y/N. Y/N!”

I turned to see Peter fumbling with his books, and I extended my arms to catch them. “Hey, Pete,” I chuckled. I looked at one of the books in my hand and saw the official autobiography of tech giant Tony Stark, and I laughed. “We get it, man, you’re in love with Tony Stark.” 

“I’m not,” Peter said quickly. “Just wanna read up on my boss.” 

“Right,” I said with a click of my tongue. “The whole internship thing. That seems like a pretty sweet gig, Pete.”

“It’s…” Peter began and nodded. “It’s alright.”

“What do you actually do?” I asked, placing the biography of Peter’s one true love back on his stack of books. “Do you do paperwork? Or Mr. Stark’s laundry?”

That elicited a laugh out of Peter. Peter Parker and I had been friends for a while, since we were lab partners in eighth grade biology, and I had been one of the first people he told about the internship. As excited as he was to get it, though, he never really talked too much about it. “I do…” He began. “Um… Stuff.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m asking,” I said, shouldering my backpack. “What kinda stuff?” 

“This and that,” Peter shrugged. “Sorta whatever needs to be done.” 

I nodded slowly. “Uh-huh,” I responded. “Well, since you’re not gonna tell me, I’ll tell you some big news.”

“Sure,” Peter said. “What is it?”

“I got an interview for MIT,” I grinned, and joy overcame Peter’s face. His arms instinctually went out to hug me, but his stack of books went tumbling to the ground around us. He paid it no mind and hugged me tightly anyway, rocking us as he embraced me. Peter gave amazing hugs; that’s one thing nearly everyone can agree on. 

“That’s awesome, Y/N!” Peter exclaimed. “When is it?”

“Friday evening,” I said. “And I’m freaking out really bad. Do you think you could help me prep?”

Peter had already bent down and begun to retrieve his books. “Why me?” He asked. “A-Ask Flash, he’s on the debate team.” 

“Because I don’t want to ask Flash,” I sighed. “I want to ask you. God, Pete, you got an internship with Stark Industries! Why wouldn’t I ask for your help with interviews? I mean, I assume there was an interview process…” 

“Um, sorta,” Peter said. “Yeah, yep, there was.”

My eyes narrowed. “What was that turn around?” I asked. “‘Sorta’ an interview, but also yes?” 

“It wasn’t a, uh, a typical interview,” Peter said. “I met Mr. Stark’s head of security before him.” 

“Wait, hold on!” I cried. “You’ve met Tony Stark?” 

“I told you about this!” Peter smiled. “We went on that company retreat!”

“Th-The one to Berlin?” I asked. “You met Tony freaking Stark in Berlin? How’d I not know this, Peter?”

“I remember telling you,” Peter said. “I missed those days, and I texted you asking about homework, and you told me we had a test and asked how the retreat was, and I said that it was awesome and I met Tony Stark.”

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “But come on, Petey! Please help me prep for this interview, MIT is my dream school!” I grasped his arm and pouted at him, and I said, “For me?” 

Peter rolled his eyes jokingly. “Sure,” He said with a smile, as sincere as always. “Just come by tonight, I’ll get Aunt May to order a pizza or something and we’ll work it out.” 

I hugged Peter tightly. “Thank you!” I giggled. “Hey, save me a seat at lunch, yeah?” 

“Umm, Ned’s brought a few pieces of his Death Star,” Peter began. “It might take up a lot of space.”

“I’ll help,” I said. “If you don’t mind, that is.” 

“S-Sure,” Peter said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “We could use your smaller hands for some of the more intricate parts of the build.” 

“Great,” I said as the bell rang long and high for classes to start. “Crap. I’ll see ya, Pete!” 

The day passed as slowly as any normal school day would. I didn’t have a math club meeting that afternoon on account of our faculty sponsor being sick, so I was able to go home before I went to Peter’s. I gathered all of my MIT stuff from my desk and shoved it into my bag, and I opened my computer for a minute before my mom inevitably made me come to the living room. Twitter was already open (I didn’t pay great attention during last period physics), and I clicked around the trending page for a moment before seeing, at the very bottom of the list of trending topics, something called the “Man-Spider”. It wasn’t being talked about too much, but it was a trending topic in my area; knowing that someone would probably ask about it at school tomorrow, I clicked on it. 

It was a shaky phone video of a man in a blue and red suit on the rooftop of a building that was adjacent to the videographer. “Hey, you’re that Man-Spider from YouTube!” the videographer yelled. 

“Call me Spiderman!” The suited man replied back, his voice echoing around the street. 

“Okay! Do a flip, Spiderman!” 

The so-called Spiderman flipped backwards, eliciting a whoop from the videographer. The video ended there, and I huffed out a quiet laugh. Peter was really into gymnastics; he would like this video. I tagged him, @pparker101, figuring that he would watch it before I got to his place. 

When I finally got myself up and made my way across the borough to Peter and his Aunt May’s apartment, May answered the door. She was a tall and thin woman with long hair that she usually pulled up, and she smiled when she saw me. “Aw, hey, Miss Y/N,” May said. “What’s going on?”

“Peter’s helping me with an interview thing tonight,” I said. “Is that alright?” 

“Oh, sweetheart, of course,” May said, waving her hand around. “Where are you interviewing?” 

“MIT,” I replied. “The actual interview is on Friday, but, since he’s got that internship with Stark Industries, I figured he would help me prepare.” 

“Oh, good job,” May said. “Yeah, Pete popped out to get a sandwich, but you’re welcome to wait for him. Are you hungry? I’m making meatloaf.”

I had known May for long enough to know that it was safest to skip out on the meatloaf. “Oh, I’m alright,” I told her. “I ate before I came.” 

“If you change your mind…” May sang and scrunched her nose at me as she smiled. “Pete said that you helped him and Ned with their Death Star build today; how was that?”

“Pretty great,” I smiled. “It was a lot of pieces and we’re not finished yet, but all working together was pretty sweet.” 

“I bet,” May replied. “All of you are so smart, I could never do that, even with instructions.” 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see Peter replying to me on Twitter with a simple :). “Thanks, May,” I said. “Um, I think I’m gonna go set up in Peter’s room.”

“Alright, Miss Y/N,” May said and gave me a quick hug. “Have fun.” 

Peter’s room was messy as always, discarded projects all over the place, and laundry piled in the corner of his bottom bunk. I sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk and started to extract my papers and things to practice, but there was a weird sound from behind me. It was quiet and I almost missed it, but the cool breeze that hit my shoulder helped alert me to the fact that the window was open. I turned over my shoulder, expecting to see the widow accidentally unlatched and opening, but instead I saw something completely different: my best friend crawling on the ceiling. 

I couldn’t form words. I wasn’t convinced that I was actually seeing what was happening. Peter was attached upside down to his ceiling, wearing a weird onesie-looking outfit with alternating red and blue panels. He was quiet as he crawled to the other side of the room, and he extended his hand, his middle two fingers and thumb folded into his palm, and a string of white shot from his wrist and attached to the corner of the door. Peter tugged the door closed with ease, as if he had done it before, then he expertly flipped from the ceiling and landed on the carpet with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. His back was to me, but, now that I saw him better, I saw that he wore the exact same outfit that the Man-Spider wore in the Twitter video. 

“Holy shit, are you the Man-Spider?” I cried, and Peter flinched. He turned to me, his face stricken with panic, and I saw a black arachnid symbol in the middle of his chest. “You are! Holy shit, Peter--” 

“Dude, shut up!” Peter hissed quickly. His hand came up to his chest and he pressed on the spider symbol, and the tight suit loosened and fell off of his body. “I-I’m not the Man-Spider--”

“Spiderman!” I recalled from the video. “Peter, what the actual fuck--” 

“Shut up!” Peter pleaded, rushing to me and pressing his hand against my mouth. He was right on top of me, his chest nearly touching mine with each breath, and his dark eyes were wide at me. “Y/N, you… You can’t tell anyone. Please!” 

I shifted my head in order to remove his hand. “Are you serious…” I began. “You’re Spiderman? Wait, how did this happen? Was it the Stark internship, did Tony Stark do this to you?” 

“I’ll explain everything,” Peter whispered. “Just, you really cannot tell anyone.”

“Does May know?” I asked quickly. 

“Are you kidding me?” Peter scoffed. He reached down and grabbed a shirt and began to dress himself; I had noticed that, after the suit came off, he was only in boxers, but I figured that it was better not to say anything. “If she knew, she’d go ballistic.”

I sighed heavily and sat down on the bed once more. “Make this make sense,” I groaned, pressing my head into my hands. “Did this happen to you? Did you make it happen? Is this a Bruce Banner thing?” 

“No,” Peter said quickly, and he sat down next to me. “Look, it’s a really long story, but the basics are that I was bitten by a radioactive spider and now I can do weird things. Like, things I never was able to do before. I’m really strong now, Y/N, and I just… I can do that.” He said and pointed to the ceiling. “But Tony Stark found out about me somehow and he tapped me to help him in some sort of weird fight with him and Captain America. He made me that suit! It’s really cool!”

“It is!” I said quickly. “So, are you, like, an Avenger now? Is that what the Stark internship is?”

Peter paused for a moment, and his cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, I mean…” He started. “Basically, yeah, I’m an Avenger.” 

“Oh my God,” I laughed. “That’s awesome, Peter! But… Why would you keep this from me?” There was no point disguising the hurt in my voice. That was it, plain and simple. “I thought we told each other everything.” 

“We do,” Peter said. “I just… Mr. Stark told me to keep this a secret. He said that anyone who knew could be in danger. I didn’t want you getting hurt.” 

I chewed the inside of my cheek. The secrecy hurt and it wouldn’t stop for a while, but my excitement overshadowed that. “This is super cool, Peter,” I laughed. “So, the thing you just shot, do you-- Like, does your body make that? Like a spider? Was that a web?” 

“Yeah, it’s a web,” Peter smiled widely. “But my body doesn’t make them. That would be super gross.” 

“Sorta, yeah,” I agreed.

“Nah, it’s, uh,” Peter began and rushed over to the forgotten suit on the floor. “It’s a poly-nylon substance that’s loaded in these web shooters that Mr. Stark made me. They’re super strong and take three hours to fully dissolve. They come out of this shooter that I wear on my wrist.” He lifted up the silver web shooter to show me, and I grinned at it. 

“That’s awesome,” I chuckled. “Wait, does Ned know?”

“No,” Peter said quickly.

“MJ?”

“No.”

“Liz? Betty? Flash?”

“You’re the only one,” Peter reiterated. “Nobody else knows. Mr. Stark, Happy, Pepper, everyone at SHIELD, and you. You’re the only outsider.”

“This is…” I began. “This is really cool, don’t get me wrong, but isn’t it dangerous?” 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I mean… Yeah. Everytime I go on a mission, I’m not really sure if I’m coming back.”

I sighed and rubbed my neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Petey,” I started. “But I really don’t like this. The idea of my best friend being an Avenger is super cool, but it’s scary as shit. I can’t lose you, Pete. Nobody gets me like you do, and I don’t know what I’d do if you died and I didn’t know why.” 

Peter was quiet as he came back to sit down next to me, his web shooter still in his hand. He toyed with it for a moment, then placed it in my lap. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “You were doing what you were told was right. If anything, Tony Stark needs to apologize to me.”

Peter scoffed. “Good luck with that,” he said. “You’re cool. Ya know that?”

“Me?” I chuckled. “You’re freaking Spiderman, dude! You’re cooler than everyone at Midtown! So, is Peter Parker, like, your alter ego? Like Batman?”

“Batman isn’t real,” Peter said pointedly. 

“The point stands, ass,” I said and shoved his shoulder, eliciting a laugh from him.. “By day, you’re a nerdy high school student and, by night, you’re an Avenger?”

“Sorta,” Peter shrugged sheepishly. “I guess, I mean… Not to brag, but--” 

“Brag away!” I said. 

“I’m supposed to be helping you with your interview,” Peter began. “I think maybe we can table this until later. Yeah?”

“Fine,” I said with a pout. “Let me get my stuff…” 

I turned to retrieve my papers and everything that I had brought, and Peter’s hand returned to my lap to grab the web shooter. The fates, though, decided to throw a wrench into our casual moment, because the ajar door burst open to show May. Before I knew what was happening, Peter had shoved the web shooter down between my thighs in an attempt to quickly hide it, and he pressed his lips to mine. I caught on instantly; his hand between my legs only made sense if we were kissing. It was an easy cover up, something to get May out of the room, and-- honestly-- probably something that May had been suspecting all along. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed and backed out of the room, and Peter gave me a tight grimace. I could almost hear him stuttering out an apology. “Sorry, guys! I didn’t mean to--”

“That’s about my luck, huh?” Peter said loudly and laughed. “It’s-- Ah, shit-- Sorry, May!” 

“No, don’t be sorry,” May said from behind the door. Peter pulled the web shooter from between my legs and grabbed his suit, and he shoved them under the blankets behind me. “Don’t let me interrupt... Whatever that was. Peter, please remember to use a--”

“May, hush!” Peter cried, and I saw genuine embarrassment rise in his cheeks. “We’re not-- We weren’t--” 

“We were just kissing, May!” I said quickly. “Nothing else!” 

“Right,” May said. “Have fun. Meatloaf’s burnt, so, if you guys want something to eat, we can get Thai. Or you two can get Thai and I’ll stay here--” 

“May!” Peter groaned. 

“Right, I’ll leave you two alone,” May said, and Peter and I held our breath until we were sure she wasn’t at the door anymore. 

“God, sorry, Y/N,” Peter mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s the only thing I could think of--”

“No big,” I said. “But I’m sure May thinks we’re dating now.” 

“She’s thought that since eighth grade,” Peter said and rolled his eyes. “Now she has ‘proof’.” 

“I mean…” I started. Too late to go back now. “I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought of it before.”

“Us dating?” Peter asked. 

“I know you like Liz and MJ, so it’s always been…” I started. “Never mind.” 

“Sure, I like Liz and MJ,” Peter said. “But I like you too. Like, in a different way than I like Liz and MJ.”

“Like, in a girlfriend way?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Peter said. He was looking down at his lap, obviously abashed and not wanting to look at me. “You’re really funny and smart, and you’re super pretty… Mr. Stark thinks you’re cute too.” 

“Tony Stark knows about me?” I asked. “He thinks I’m cute?”

“N-Not in a creepy way,” Peter said quickly. “When I went to Berlin, I brought a picture of you in my luggage, and Mr. Stark-- Well, Happy found it and he told Mr. Stark, and he said that you were pretty… Encouraged me to ask you out… Gave me… Ahem, pointers on how to ask you out.” 

“Really?” I grinned. This was amusing to find out. Tony Stark knew who I was. That was almost as cool as finding out my best friend was an Avenger. “What’d he say?”

“Some really gross stuff, to be honest,” Peter chuckled. “Nothing I’d ever say to you, not even jokingly. But… Whatever. Anyway. MIT interview--” 

I leaned in towards Peter and kissed him again, and I felt his smile against my lips. He kissed me back, his arms wrapping around me and tugging me close, and, when the kiss broke, I whispered, “So, does Spiderman have a girlfriend?”

“I’m sure he can get one if he wants to,” Peter said. 

“Does he want to?” I asked. 

“Duh!”

[mcwriting]

London boy

Hi guys! I’m back with a lil quarantine pick me up! It’s been sooooo long so it felt good to write again. I’m almost done with this semester so I’m hoping I can do more writing soon. All this being said, make sure to check my note at the end about a possible part 2 and let me know what you think! Love y’all!

*Also PSA I’ve never been to London unless Heathrow airport counts so I tried to do my best research but sorry if things are wrong*

Fandom: Tom Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x y/n

Setting: Begins in Nashville, TN but mostly takes place in London

Word Count: 2299 (whew)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption? I can’t think of any others. It’s mostly fluff

Rating: Like a K or something

$

You were hanging out on Broadway St.

No, not the one in New York. The one in Nashville, Tennessee.

It was a place filled with great live music, dancing all night long, and lots and lots of alcohol. 

You and some friends had gone out to a particular bar that another friend’s band was playing at, all dressed up in ripped up jean shorts, riding boots, and a cute cowboy hat.

As you all waited for them to get on stage, you ordered a round to loosen up a bit, you getting some Jack Daniels on the rocks.

That local flavor would forever be your first choice, especially compared to the tequila shots some of the girls chose instead.

$

Tom Holland, Harrison Osterfield, and some of their buddies strolled down Broadway, too.

Tom’s newest project was set in the city and a long day of filming called for letting loose for the night and getting to know a little bit more of Nash culture.

They came upon one place where a band was playing a Bruce Springsteen song, so they headed in, beelining to the bar. 

As they waited for their own drinks, Tom turned his head to look around when he caught a glance of you, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. 

You were coolly half sitting-half leaning on a barstool, sipping your drink as you soaked in the music. Your friend’s band always sounded great, but you decided to scan the room to see how other people were reacting. 

You turned your head, the big curls in your hair flipping over your shoulder. As you looked straight down the bar you caught eyes with a brunette man laughing with his friends, face going slack as he stared back at you. 

You looked him up and down, not taking much time to study his face, then smiled and turned back to the band. 

Please come over here you thought, trying to not look again.

Tom turned to his group.

“Do you see that girl? That’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!”

“Well then go on you div, make a conversation,” Harrison said as the others gassed Tom up, too.

The guys pushed him around a bit as he bounced up and down on his toes, trying to hype himself up.

A few moments later you saw a male figure approach from the corner of your eye. You had planned to flirt with him, but the second you turned to say something, you froze.

It was Tom. Holland.

You both stared at each other silently for a second, both surprised, until finally he spoke up, his accent clearly British among the southern Nashville drawls around you.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw you across the bar and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and it took a moment before you found words to reply.

“I- thank you. You’re Tom Holland, right?” you asked incredulously.

It was his turn to blush and look at the ground. He nodded his head, a cute smile lighting up his face.

“That’s me. Now would you mind the honor of teaching me how to dance like the tennesseans?”

It took no thought to take his hand and tear up the dance floor that night.

$

It had been almost 3 years since you’d met Tom that in Nash. A night of dancing and drinking had led to you going back to his hotel that night. 

Nothing had actually happened between you though, because you were both too drunk and sleepy to do anything but crash on top the bed.

It had, however, sparked the beginnings of an amazing romance, where in the present, you were strolling down Camden Market looking at art, clothing, and jewelry as you tried to decide where to grab food.

Hands held tightly together, you both decided to stop for a moment to look over the canal, but you instead focused your attention onto his face that glowed in the sunlight.

He turned to you and did the same, both of you grinning like kids when your eyes met. 

“Oh how I love that American smile of yours,” he breathed.

“I fancy you too, darling,” you returned, heart full. 

$

On your first trip to London, he’d taken you to Highgate, where some of his childhood friends lived. Of course you already knew Harrison, Tuwaine, and Tom’s brothers (considering most of them had been there the night you met), but you’d been nervous to make a good impression.

It wasn’t long until you were jumping into their conversation and joking too, as if you’d all been friends for years.

You and Tom had only been dating about 6 months by this point, and had somehow kept the relationship secret from the public, so it felt nice to be introduced as his girlfriend.

You’d gone into the kitchen to refresh your drink when Harrison followed behind. 

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asked out of nowhere, “at least, that’s what we all think.”

You paused to think.

I guess the rumors are true...

$

Another trip about a year into the relationship and you’d learned to love high tea, listening to stories from Tom’s days in acting and carpentry schools, and the West End.

It was hard to believe every time you went to a show that in days past, Tom had been on that stage, too. 

You’d also spent time at the pubs with him and the boys, sometimes watching rugby, other times playing pub quizzes. 

There were also times that you went out dancing. It was a whole different world from line dances and country music, but over time it felt just as natural.

$

In the present, your time around the market had been ended early as clouds darkened and turned to gloomy rain. 

It didn’t really bother you though, because as the cab took you through the city, you saw the lights glow and illuminate the glistening buildings you’d come to love.  

“I’m sorry we had to cut the day short, love,” Tom whispered, squeezing your hand with his. 

“Are you kidding?” you beamed, “I’ve had so much fun today! We got to explore the heart of the city, go shopping at the market, and eat great food. Plus, now we can go with everyone to that teahouse I love. What more could a girl ask for?” 

“God, I love you,” he grinned as you leaned on his shoulder to look back out the window, distracting yourself for the long ride back to his house.

$

About a year and a half of dating, and you’d come to visit Tom while he was filming a movie at the Warner Bros. studio in Watford. 

Since he was filming up north, you chose to rent a hotel in the heart of the city so Tom could stay closer to work (and therefore have more time with you).

Most of the nights he could, you’d go club in Brixton. Afternoons off were spent in Shoreditch trying restaurants and looking at art. You also got to see his buddies from Highgate again, joking and having fun just as before.

By now, your relationship was public and of course the paparazzi was often trying to photograph you, but you didn’t really mind it. It was nice getting to show the world just how in love you were with this boy.

$

For your two year anniversary, Tom had flown you out to the city for a romantic getaway, where instead of staying at his house like usual, he paid to have you stay in a royal suite at a 5 star hotel in the heart of London, overlooking the river. 

You spent the trip mostly to yourselves, not going out to the pubs at night like usual, instead choosing to have private dinners or go to nice restaurants. 

He took you shopping around Bond St, showering you with expensive things that you of course didn’t need (and had to buy a second suitcase to haul), but the gesture alone was the nicest thing a boyfriend had done for you.

Of course, you also visited with his family and had a nice time with all of them, but spending private time with Tom was the best of all.

The place you stayed made you feel like a queen (it was royal after all), and it fit the way he could never help but call you his Tennessee queen.

The lingerie he’d gotten you also came in handy, because when you emerged from the bathroom wearing only that, he would say in a husky voice, 

“Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time,” before you’d do exactly that.

$

In the present, you were back at Tom’s place, preparing for dinner with his family when he called you to the backyard.

The rain had let up, leaving a lovely sunset sky, which is what you were expecting him to talk about once you came to the back porch.

“Wow, that’s pretty,” you stated, snapping your hoop earring shut to complete your look for the night. 

Tom had said it would be a nice dinner, so you’d put on the soft pink dress he had bought earlier that day the second you said you loved it and some matching heels. You had also spent time curling your hair and doing some makeup, wanting to look and feel good.

“You look more beautiful than a thousand sunsets,” he whispered back, causing you to blush as pink as your dress. You gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

“What did you call me out here for? Shouldn’t we head out soon?”

“Right, yeah. I got distracted there for a second,” he chuckled before continuing, “Y/n, do you remember the night we met?”

“Of course. I’ll keep that day burned into my memory until the day I die.”

“Well, that night I told my mates that you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and it’s still true. I don’t regret a single thing about the past 3 years of loving you.”

Your heart began to pound and you tried to steady your breathing. Was this it? Was this what you thought it was?

God, I hope so a voice in your head was screaming.

He took your hands in his and squeezed them. 

“Y/n L/n, I love you so dearly. I’ve probably loved you since the night I took you back to my hotel and I woke up to find you laying atop my bed and just didn’t realize it then.”

He began to bend his knees and reached a hand into his pocket, butterflies now rising in your stomach like nothing before.

“I want to love you for the rest of my life. Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” His hands held open a box with the most perfect ring you’d ever seen.

Tears welled up in your eyes and a watery smile rose to your face. You were speechless, so at first all you could do was nod, then finally you exclaimed,

“YES!”

Both of your hands were shaking as he slipped the ring onto your left hand, and then he stood up, pressing you into a deep kiss. 

You were on cloud nine.

You heard shouts behind you, breaking the kiss to see Harrison and Tuwaine cheering and recording on their phones. 

“Wait a second, where’s Harry?”

Nearby, a bush rustled and out stepped the twin, camera in hand.

“You guys all really planned this for me?” you asked, elated.

“Anything for you, babe. I was worried that it would be ruined by the rain, but it looks like things worked out just right,” he answered.

You stared down at the ring, still not quite believing everything, but your gaze eventually fell down to your watch.

“Well, I hate to kill the mood, but I’m so hungry I don’t know what to do with myself, and it’s time to go anyways, so let’s get out of here!”

$

You rode in Tom’s car while the other boys piled into Harry’s. They arrived first and were waiting at the door when you arrived. 

“Alright, follow us, we have a private room,” Haz said, the three boys leading you and Tom that way. 

You had a feeling the dinner was an engagement celebration, but had no expectation of what happened next.

The doors opened to tons of people yelling “Congratulations!” while holding cute balloons and champagne glasses. You scanned the room and were happy to see Tom’s family and friends from London and home, including the one’s that had been there that night in Nashville.

The most surprising thing, however, was your family. You hadn’t seen them in almost a month due to work and travel, so immediately you ran into their arms.

“She said yes, by the way!” Tom exclaimed happily, causing another round of cheers from the crowd.

“I can’t believe you all came!” you said to everyone, especially towards your US friends. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a real engagement if we didn’t celebrate with something special,” one friend said. 

“What do you mean?” 

With that, she plopped a hat onto your head. You pulled it off, confused until you got a good look at it. It was the hat you were wearing the night you met Tom. 

“We were gonna bring the boots and booty shorts, too, but I think what you’ve got goin’ on is a little classier,” another friend piped up, garnering laughs from your friend group. 

You pressed the hat back over your head, not caring if it squished the curls you’d gotten to lay perfectly not too long before.

“Well, then. Let’s get this rodeo started!” you exclaimed, gathering yet another of many cheers you and Tom would receive that night and for years to come.

$

A/N: Omg guys. I did it. I wrote something new. I’m thinking about making this a two shot, where the second part is more from Tom’s perspective and explores his visits to the US and I’ll call it Nashville Girl. Idk if any good songs exist that would tie in but whatever. 

Anyways, love you all and thank you for your continued support! Please stay safe and STAY HOME!