#but i had to shout it from the rooftops

[eternalgirlscout]

thinking about shou's mom again. specifically how Just Walk Out, You Can Leave is one of the most central and least subtle themes of mp100; take responsibility, yes, but you don't have to fight when a fight is all it will accomplish. you don't have to martyr yourself.

walking away is a moral act, it's a STATEMENT. and in the case of shou's mom, while leaving her husband didn't do the thing she meant it to do right away, eventually he did hear her. he wouldn't have had his realization at the end of WD arc if she'd never done that. hell, he wouldn't have done what he does in confession arc if she hadn't. he wasn't there in 7th division, he didn't learn that from reigen. he learned it from her.

[mightaswelljxmp]

bdubs is so cool hes the reason i hate describing things as content wdym this is content its so much more, it’s craftsmanship, it’s meticulous detail and love and care and deliberate thought and aaaa his videos are crafted so well, i love how he takes the time to explain his process and then uses a building montage not sped up to not only include us in the process but really emphasize that this is thoughtful art not just a build that appears out of nowhere. ugh if stop and smell the roses were a guy it would be bdubs. his videos are just so engagingggg and the humor in them also rules and i could listen to bdubs talk for hours and hours because something about his sentence structures and vocal inflections just draw attention and are so fun. what a guy. also does anyone else watch his old vlogs and experience a deep sense of yearning.

[gildedtragedies]

hey guys so sorry for the inactivity i was GETTING MARRIED???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

[nastasya--filippovna]

I really hope Michael Sheen's lips and David Tennant's left eyebrow get paid separately.

That's it. That's the post. Goodnight peeps. I'm off to bed.

[hippolotamus]

how are y’all forming coherent thoughts today? stringing words together, making synapses fire, experiencing anything other than pure chaotic joy? i wish i could take this feeling in my chest and explain it in words. it’s just too big right now. too big and floaty and all consuming. it’s elation, grief, pride, feeling seen, and knowing some of the closest people to me will never be able to under its importance. not in the same way and maybe not at all.

[zarovich]

cant sleep, too distracted thinking about him and how hes so beautiful. i dont mind losing sleep if hes on my mind

[sophielovesbooks]

Sometimes it hits me all over again that my husband is the best husband anybody could ask for and that he's amazing and I love him more than anything, and I tell him all of that. And he's super appreciative but a bit confused and goes "I'm not even doing anything!"

But, like, he does everything, you know? 🥹

[radio-4-is-static]

25コ目の染色体 | RADWIMPS

忘れてた泣き方 でも 今ここにある何か 目を閉じても零れそうな気がして

I will die for you, and I will live for you I will die for you, there is nothing more that I could really say to you

[bearimba]

Ethan (HGSS) Character Headcanons

Continuing with the New Bark Town trio headcanons!

Starring Ethan next:

So unlike Lyra, Ethan doesn't really do anything in the main storyline (same as the games, really, if you choose Lyra as the player character).

I thought maybe it would be cool if he had some kind of connection to the legendary beasts? since I associate Silver with Ho-Oh and and Lyra with Lugia. So basically, he experiences the Suicune/Eusine subplot instead of Lyra

I think the way it would go is that while he's out on his journey, he happens to encounter one of (or all of) the legendary beasts but it's scared off by the arrival of Eusine. Ethan asks what in the world just happened and Eusine starts explaining the ✨lore✨. He ends up accompanying Eusine on his quest in the hopes of another legendary encounter (though he doesn't really care about Eusine's reasons. he's used to just nodding along to Lyra's infodumping and Eusine isn't really any different. so). Slowly though, he starts to warm up to Eusine, genuinely getting invested in his efforts to bring back the legendary beasts and learning a bit about maturity/empathy on the way. It ends at Cerulean Cape like in the games, except Ethan doesn't catch Suicune and the event is left on a hopeful note that the beasts can in fact regain their trust in humanity.

His maternal grandmother was very hard on his mom during her child, so he ended up getting raised with much more relaxed rules. Unfortunately, rarely getting in genuine trouble, he kind of got used to getting away with more than he really should've. He ended up a little too confident and even a little self-centered at times as a result, though he's never intentionally mean-spirited.

A huge part of his character arc involves figuring out what he wants to do with his life. Living in a tiny town such as New Bark, he was always convinced that he had to go out and do Big Things™ with his life---and he kind of does while he's out with Eusine and later competing in the Pokelathon. But while doing so, he ends up overlooking what really matters: the people (and pokemon) close to him. And eventually he learns that not only is it fine to have an "average" life, it's actually kinda preferable in some ways.

(unfortunately the exact timeline/story beats are still very much undecided. so. can't elaborate on the specifics for now :/ )

After Lyra chose Totodile and Silver stole Chikorita, he was left with Cyndaquil. He already had a starter pokemon (Marill) but since Cyndaquil was left by itself, Elm decided to offer it to Ethan and he was like "yeah why not." His third pokemon is a Pichu, specifically the spiky-eared Pichu (how'd get it without already having a shiny Pichu? Great question, moving on---).

He was the first person to really bring Lyra out of her shell when they were kids. Back then, she had the impulsive ideas but he was the one to actually go through with them. Some of their antics included climbing the windmills in New Bark Town, sneaking into the pen of a very wild pokemon Elm was studying, and sailing down the river on Route 27 all the way to the ocean on a poorly made raft, none of which were very successful. Kris tried to do damage control when she could, but as a research assistant there was no way to keep an eye on them at all times.

He's actually the weaker battler compared to Lyra and Kris, but what he lacks in skill he makes up for in sheer willpower. by which I mean he likes to act big and cocky and tough when he really isn't. Dude loves his pokemon but just has no idea how to battle, he just does whatever feels right in the moment.

He still loves competition though, so when the chance came to compete in the Pokeathlon he was absolutely pumped. He and his pokemon are later considered one of the best teams, and he kinda becomes a celebrity---not necessarily mobbed on the streets, but definitely a well-known name to anyone who keeps up with the sport.

While he's competing, he lives with his grandparents in Goldenrod and helps out around their daycare. They don't initially approve of his participation, but he gets money for winning and he promotes the daycare every chance he gets so they can't really complain.

Partially due to the advertising, business at the daycare blows up and Ethan eventually "retires" to focus on it. He doesn't bother announcing it or anything, he just kinda stops showing up to the Dome. When interviewed about it, he responds "oh yeah, I'm actually done competing lol. anyways if you need any top-tier daycare services---"

He ends up taking over the daycare for his grandparents once they're older and it's too much for them to handle. He occasionally helps Elm with his research since he deals with pokemon eggs and evolutions so often.

Between the Pokelathon and helping out at the daycare, Ethan gains a decent amount of muscle. It gets to the point where he can just throw his friends over his shoulder without warning and parade them around, and it's his favorite thing ever. Kris will just hang there chilling, Lyra will burst into laughter until she's set down, and Silver will either quietly sulk or cuss Ethan out depending on the mood he's in.

He's cousins with Red on his dad's side! They both know the basics of Kantonian Sign Language because sometimes, it's easier to sign than miming or pulling out their pokegears to communicate when Red goes mute (though it's not their main form of communication). He really looked up to Red as a kid, so when his older cousin goes missing, he takes it as best as he can even though it's still really hard on him.

He cuts his own hair because it "looks cool." Eventually he figures out how to do it well, but for a while his hair just looks like he put it under a weed eater and called it good.

Despite getting flak from his friends for occasionally lacking common sense, he actually grows to be very emotionally intelligent. He's easily able to pick up on what other people are feeling and works around that during conversations, which is part of the reason he gets along with almost everyone (helps that's he's super charismatic---not in an attractive way necessarily, just a big lovable dork kind of way)

He's naturally extremely friendly, but he also returns exactly the attitude he's given. He and Silver's friendship has a very rocky beginning, with the two of them tolerating each other for Lyra's sake until they manage to find common ground (and Silver becomes a little less of an ass)

He's the kind of guy to wear shorts no matter the weather. It's fine when he's living in New Bark Town, but unfortunately for him Goldenrod tends to be a bit more chilly. Not that he'd ever actually admit to being cold, of course---he's too cool for that (pun intended)

He hands out nicknames left and right---Crystal, Lyra, and Silver are Kris, Ly, and Silv respectively. The more he dislikes someone, the more outlandish (and/or insulting) their nickname tends to be.

[9w1ft]

hi anons! you were both asking similar things, so i wanted to share an ask that i answered at the very beginning of the month that i think is a little bit related

i feel like a lot of people in the fandom at large are always moving instantly onto the next thing or wanting something new from taylor or assuming that something huge will beget something even bigger (surprise speak now announcement?! but what about 1989? 1989 announcement?! but it’s a double album right? right???), and i think this corner of the fandom is by and large a lot more grounded than that but still i would urge people to consider the perspective that we already got the thing, and it was so freaking magical, and we should enjoy the reality of that. everything else could just be extra sprinkles on a sundae if we acknowledge it in that way

[v-is-for-vivienne]

I fight for the endos because I know what it's like to be bullied into denial and forced to believe my trauma is something it's not just to be allowed to exist. I don't want anybody with any identity or experience to suffer like that, regardless of their scientific validity. hence why stances like "they're just traumagenic" are just as bad to me as "they're fake". it fucking hurts people. it hurt me.

nobody should ever have to dig up trauma of horrific abuse to be accepted. nobody should ever have to change their view of themselves to be accepted. nobody should ever have to lie about their experience to be accepted. nobody should EVER have to cry themselves to sleep because they will never exist the right way. Nobody deserves that. Not just Legitimate Systems. NOBODY.

I don't care if your experiences are real. I don't care if you're labelling them correctly or not. I don't care if you're in my space or using my community's resources. I really don't care if you actually have trauma or not.

All I will ever care about is that every single person feels comfortable and accepted in the way that they are. and is never made to feel like they are bad for that.

(as always, if you disagree or think in any way shape or form that I am wrong about any of this, just block and move on. this isn't for you and you won't change my mind about shit. I don't care.)

[lunar-years]

Anyway any time people extensively criticize Keeley even if they’re saying things that are basically reasonable, if they don’t spend equal time on Roy’s fuckups I start itching to bite.

It’s this EXACTLY tbh because like. Those of y’all who have been following me for a minute know I LOVE discussing these bitches flaws like I absolutely do love unpacking that HOWEVER… i think this one-sided business is very unfair and also like. Genuinely a bad interpretation of the show? People are either watching with their eyes closed or in extremely bad faith or something because ??? These characters are all good people!!! They fuck up but they are not like, irredeemably bad for each other because they…both suck-ass at communicating, lol. And I sincerely hope some people aren’t building their real friendships and relationships off a tit-for-tat scorecard of their mistakes, because that’s very goofy.

“Well Keeley was dismissive about the end of Roy’s career [one time in one conversation]!!!” Well yes, and then she proceeded to *checks notes* stand by his side during the hardest transition period of his life, gently encouraging him to carve a new path for himself but also not pressuring him into doing something he wasn’t yet ready for??

“Roy booked 6 weeks in Marbella without even considering Keeley’s new job!! Clearly this shows he’s inconsiderate and unthoughtful about her career and priorities!!” Well yes, Roy was being an idiot scrambling to save a relationship he knew was dying. Even so, one episode prior he knew exactly what Keeley needed to hear when she was doubting herself before her Vanity Fair shoot, because it’s obvious he thinks she’s fucking incredible and he has so much belief in her ability to succeed!!

Like idk. No one is saying anyone has to ship them, but some of the complaints going around feel very manufactured to uphold other ships and characters when their favs were out here doing the exact same shit!! Like let’s step back for a second, idk

[landwriter]

🌿 and 🤲🏻 for the ask game!

Thanks, anon!

🌿How does creating make you feel? Anywhere from very proud and thrilled to like I have never before composed a sentence and should stop before I pull a muscle.

🤲What do YOU get out of writing? Everything! Untold fuckin' riches!!! The excitement of reaching out into the void and seeing if the void will reach back. The impossible task I will happily and constantly fail at of trying to transmute being alive into words. The animal rightness of participating in the ancient and communal ritual of Storytelling. The headiness of creation, of making more life from life, of building a place from language that can be loved and lived in. The ridiculous, incredible power of being able to make someone laugh or be comforted or have a good cathartic cry when we've never even met. Doing it because I love you and I think you're wonderful and deserve the world in spite of that. Getting to make people feel held and seen. The enormous wealth of feeling held and seen in return. The feeling of communion: memory and connection and love. Of receiving and being received.

(let’s get real! fic writer asks)

[taylorsabrina]

it is finally midnight here, which means it's officially taylor's birthday, and taylor i know you'll never come across this in a million years — that's besides the point really — but it needs to be said here in my little digital diary how much i love you and how grateful i am to you for essentially raising me from the first time i heard tim mcgraw playing on the way home from the grocery store. i was 10 then, i'm on my way to turning 28 next year, and i honestly don't think i would be on this earth right now if it weren't for you and your music... your art.

thank you for saving this girl a thousand times over, i love you to the moon and to saturn. 🌙🪐🫶

[readwritealldayallnight]

It’s been months since Simon has been home

All he wants is to see you, his sweet girl, so much so that he loses track of what the actual date on the calendar is, in favour of counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you’re in his arms again

That’s why Simon’s surprise when he walks in to the local shops is genuine, before quickly turning into annoyance, when he notices that almost all the shelves are stocked with things for Valentine’s Day

Bright red, pink, and purple gifts covered in glitter and sparkles, sequins and jewels, all of them screaming out one word, over and over and over again for shoppers to see

Love

It’s a word Simon tries not to think about too often, in spite of it being part of his daily vocabulary

Yes, while your hunk of a man’s favourite pet name for you has always been love, it’s a word he has yet to say to you outside of being anything more than a name, a word he has yet to say he feels for you, even though his heart spells it out with ease each time he is with you

It’s hard for him because he can remember exactly the last time he told someone that three word sentence

Christmas Eve, a lifetime ago, he’d just gotten off the phone with his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, hearing the young boy shout out into the receiver that he loved his uncle Si, a light hearted chuckle slipping past the Lieutenants lips before he’d replied back without issue that he loved him too, before he hung up and never heard his family’s voices ever again

He wants to say it to you because it’s true

He does love you more than anything, but he just can’t bring himself to say it

Those memories have become so tangled up in trauma, his mind associating darker times with those three goddamn words, the ones he knows would mean so much for you to hear he just can’t bring himself to speak aloud

He has dreams where he forces himself to say it, where he tells you a thousand times over that he loves you, whispers it in your ear, shouts it from the rooftops, writes it down everywhere for you to see and even etches it into his flesh with a needle and ink, until the dreams become nightmares and he’s yelling those words at your bloody corpse, writing it in the snow dusting your tombstone, waking up in a cold sweat, dreading the day you say those three words to him and he can’t explain why he can’t say them back

And while he can’t yet explain to you all of the demons that continue to call his skull their home, he finds himself not needing to, not with you

With you, there is no pressure to say things that cause him more pain than joy, there is no need to explain things that he struggles to fully comprehend himself, there is no need to perform or act in any way that isn’t true to him, not with you, his sweet girl who somehow understands him more than he feels he understands himself most days

Instead, with you, he gets to say things that are his own version of I love you, no matter how grand or small:

“I see you”

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had”

“I can’t believe I get to call you mine”

“You make me so happy”

“Let me carry that for you”

“Put your seatbelt on”

“I made dinner”

“I’ll do the dishes, you go sit”

When the 14th of February eventually rolls around, you aren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary, never having acknowledged the upcoming gimmick of a holiday with Simon

Which is why you’re so surprised when you wake up to find the spot next to you in bed empty, noises in the kitchen letting you know Simon hasn’t gone far

Bare feet slowly padding towards the sounds of a grand breakfast being prepared with much frustration from a seasoned soldier who struggles to use seasoning, you can’t help the overwhelming grin that takes over you face when you see nothing more than a simple card standing up on the dining table, no bells or whistles, no flower petals thrown all over the flat, no orchestra serenading you awake, just you and Simon, all you need, all you want

Reading the card stretches your smile further than you thought possible, quickly sneaking up on your love to wrap your arms around him from behind, his own matching smile etched upon his face as he scrambles up the eggs, imagining you enjoyed the card, which reads in his scratchy handwriting:

“ I ♥️ you ”

[atlabeth]

bend an ear

pairing: peter parker x fem reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't listen to you. good thing your friendly neighborhood spider-man does.

a/n: there's just something about him idk. andrew garfield spidey bc of course! look at him! this came from me playing the spider-man game after it went on sale and yearning for peter parker (will prob have to rewatch the movies bc of this) anyways hope you like it

wc: 3.6k

warning(s): reader's bf is shitty -- they argue for a while and he lowkey slut shames her. but this is basically all fluff otherwise bc childhood best friends to lovers babby!!! real yearning loverboy hours!!!

Peter just wants to go home. 

It’s been… a day. He got his ass kicked by an English test (he doesn’t have time to do the readings when he’s fighting crime), got his ass kicked by Flash Thompson (it’s not like he can fight back with his super strength and pulverize his ribs), and has spent every second since his final class ended fighting petty crimes around the city. 

Stopping ATM thefts and minor muggings feels good, sure, but on days like these, it doesn’t really make up for failing intro literature classes and getting absolutely zero sleep. He’s just thankful May is still letting him live with her while he studies at ESU—if he had to do all of this in addition to trying to make his rent? He doesn’t really want to think about it. 

So he swung his way to the roof of some random building, and he’s taking a break. Sue him, but Peter thinks he deserves it. What’s the point of living in a city like New York if you can’t have a second to yourself every once in a while? 

He’ll go home soon. Grab a bodega sandwich, maybe stop another crime, and then get home for some much needed rest. But for now, he’s just going to sit on this rooftop and relax for a second. Even Spider-man needs some peace and— 

“Babe—” 

“Why are you following me?”

Peter winces as the door slams open, an argument following close after as a girl storms out onto the roof followed by a guy speeding to keep up with her. His first instinct is to swing away as soon as possible, but for some reason, he stays. 

“Because I want to talk!”

“God, do you even hear yourself?” 

“You keep talking over me, so I really—” 

“You don’t get to babe me right now!” 

As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, now he’s accidentally made himself privy to some couple’s dispute. He’s about to web himself out of this third wheeling nightmare when the girl turns around with a groan, revealing her face, and Peter realizes who it is. 

It’s you.

This is your apartment complex. Peter came here without even realizing it, but can he really be surprised? Your name is synonymous with peace in his brain. Comes with the territory of being friends for so long—it still calms him, even when you’re being the opposite of peaceful. 

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this!” the guy exclaims, frustration clear in his voice. 

Of course. Why wouldn’t your shitty boyfriend be here too? The only reason you live here is because you scored this place together; said he didn’t want you living on campus anymore. Ethan Frey might be the bane of Peter’s existence after two and a half years of him being your boyfriend. 

“Because you and your posse are acting like complete jags in front of all my friends!” you shout back. 

He laughs in disbelief. “I’m just being myself, babe. Besides, you’re the one who said I could invite them!” 

“Because you complained about it just being my friends,” you grind out. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, Ethan! You just can’t handle the thought of me being around guys that aren’t you!” 

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to think, huh?” He gestures wildly. “You spend every second with that geek and I’m supposed to believe you’re not into him?” 

And now he’s eavesdropping on a conversation between you and your boyfriend about him. How could this get worse? 

“God, it isn’t like that at all!” you exclaim with a mirthless laugh. “Peter is my friend— my best friend since elementary school. You knew when we got together that wasn’t going to change.” 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding lazily, “but that was before I knew how obvious his hard-on for you was.” 

Peter feels his face heat beneath the mask, wants to wipe the sweat off his palms. That’s how it could get worse. 

Your nostrils flare as you turn away, your hands flexing while you shake your head. “Get out of here, Ethan.” 

“Oh, of course that’s where you draw the line,” Ethan mocks. “When I bring up fuckin’ Peter Parker.” He pauses then chuckles. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

Peter nearly intervenes right then and there, wanting to stop this mess before Ethan does anything to hurt you. But revealing himself sounds like the worst possible thing to do, so for once he listens to the rational part of his brain over the emotional. 

“He’s not even here!” you retort. “I live with you, not him. I’m dating you, not him. Why are you bringing him up?” 

“Because I’m not blind.” Ethan crosses his arms. “Y’know, I thought you’d get over this little thing after you let me take you out, but for some reason, it’s exactly the same. I swear you spend more time with him than me.”

Your hands clench into fists. “Get out of here.” 

He scoffs. “You want me to leave you up here?” 

“Yes,” you nod. 

“God, you’ve been acting crazy this whole night!” he complains. “You’ll freeze up here. Just get over it—we’ll go back down, I’ll get you a beer—” 

“I hate beer.” 

“Then I’ll get you a fucking apple juice,” he spits. “Just stop being so dramatic.” 

“You’re not listening to me!” you shout. “I want you to leave me alone!” 

This time he says your name, and you shake your head. 

“Go back to the apartment,” you interrupt. “Because if I have to spend another second with you, our relationship might not make it through the night.”

For once, Ethan is silent as he stares at you. You stare back with no sign of giving up. Eventually, he just huffs and shakes his head. 

“Whatever.” He starts walking towards the door. “You better cool off up here, because I’m not dealing with this shit when you come back down.” 

You stare at the door for a good twenty seconds once he closes the door—slams it, rather—before you angrily kick a stray soda can. Your childhood days of rec soccer must still be in you, because you get an arc on it. Just before it can go over the side of the building, Peter shoots a web to catch it wholly on instinct. 

Your eyes widen as you dart around, and Peter is finally spotted from his place on top of the roof door building thing. What is that even called? He doesn’t really have time to think about it. The aluminum can crunches as it flies into his hand, and you stare at him in complete shock. 

“Uh,” his mouth suddenly feels very dry, but he has to make some excuse for why he’s up here, “littering is bad.” 

Good one, Parker. 

“You’re Spider-man,” you say, eyes still wide. 

“The one and only,” he nods. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble, finally seeming to break out of your shock as you cover your mouth and turn away. “Oh my god, Spider-man just heard my relationship falling apart.” 

“I didn’t hear anything!” Peter exclaims. “I—”

You shoot him the withering look he loves so much, that was able to get his bullies to shrink on the spot in high school—it feels weird being on the receiving end of it. 

“I’m not stupid,” you say. 

“I kn—” He has to stop himself from saying I know, because realistically Spider-man has no idea who you are. “I’m sorry.” 

You huff and cross your arms. “Do your superhero duties include eavesdropping on failing couples?” 

“It was an accident,” Peter says. “I was up here before you were. So technically, you were eavesdropping on my actual superhero duties.” 

You laugh, and he smiles just at the sound of it. One benefit to wearing the mask, because it would expose him right on the spot. “Oh yeah? And what are those?” 

“Patrolling the streets,” he says. “I’ve got a very good vantage point from up here.” 

You hum, your mood turning a bit more morose as you glance away. “Well, I’m sorry you had to hear all that during your patrol.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through it,” he says. “Your boyfriend sounds like an asshole.” 

You roll your eyes. “He’s fine, most of the time. Just had a little bit too much to drink.” 

Peter will never understand why you defend Ethan so much. You’ve been together since freshman year and he’s only gotten worse since then—maybe he hides how he is around you, because he hasn’t really shied away from showing Peter how much he hates him this past year.

“He looked pretty sober to me,” Peter says. “And trust me, I have plenty of experience fighting guys that have had too much to drink.” 

You huff. “What are you, a spider-therapist?” 

“I’m good at a lot of things,” he says. “And I’m always good for bending an ear.”

“Surely you have better things to do than listen to me complain.” 

Peter shakes his head. “My schedule’s pretty clear right now, actually.”

“Really?” you marvel. “There’s no crime in New York City at,” you check your watch, “11:37 pm?”

“Absolutely none,” he says. “I solved it all. At least for now.”

You laugh again at that and gesture with your head as you walk over to the edge of the roof. “Then I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Peter jumps down and follows you over. You hoist yourself on top of the wall, legs dangling over the edge, and he feels himself frown as he leans his back against the wall and looks up at you. 

“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” 

“You’ll catch me if I fall,” you say. 

“Obviously,” Peter says. “I’m supposed to encourage safe behavior in New Yorkers, though.” 

You laugh and tilt your head up towards the night sky. The moonlight reflects in your eyes and Peter knows he could get lost in them forever. “Just this once, then.” 

“I think I can let it slide.” 

“Good.” 

A comfortable beat of silence passes between the two of you, and Peter finds himself smiling. No wonder he ended up at your place out of instinct. There’s nothing else like your company. 

“I always think it’ll be different,” you murmur. Peter glances up at you, your expression shifted to something more melancholic. “We’ll have a good day, which’ll turn into a good week and a good month, but he always does something to mess it up. It’s like it’s in his DNA.” 

He stays silent as you think. Most of the time when you rant to Peter, you just want to be heard, not given advice. At this point, he’s an expert at listening to you. It’s not like he minds. 

“I want things to work out. I— I still love him. I mean, I think I do. But everything is a fucking struggle with him. If I don’t do things the exact way he wants, if I try to do something for me instead of him, if I can’t read his fucking mind, then he loses it and we argue. And I’m so fucking tired of arguing!” 

Your voice has risen by now, and you bite down hard on your cheek. Peter doesn’t realize he’s started reaching towards you to comfort you until you look back down at him, and he runs his hand over his head in an effort to cover it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I promise, I’m a much nicer person than this. You just caught me at the worst time.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I know.”

Your brows rise. “Spider-man knows I’m a nice person?”

“I can just tell,” he rushes, trying to save himself. He’s doing a real good job at not revealing his identity. “I’m good at reading people.”

You chuckle and shake your head, then adjust your position so your back is towards the open air. It makes Peter nervous, he can’t lie, but it’s not like he’s not a superhero. 

“So, spider-therapist,” you say. “Any advice?” 

So this is one of the rare times you do want answers. Peter wonders if you’ll leave your boyfriend if Spider-man tells you to. 

“He doesn’t sound great,” Peter says, inclining his head. “How many times have you argued this week?” 

“Four,” you say. “Five, if you include tonight.” 

He whistles. “And it’s only Wednesday.”

You tip your shoulder. “We’re efficient.” 

“And unhappy, it sounds like.” 

“We’re not unhappy,” you defend. “We’re just…” 

“You’re up here talking to me instead of down there with him,” Peter says wryly. “That doesn’t exactly scream ‘happy couple’.” 

You shake your head with another sigh. “It’s because he can’t get over Peter.” 

He tries to act as nonchalant as possible when you bring him up. Is this an invasion of privacy? Letting you talk to him about all this when you have no idea who Spider-man actually is? 

Instead of floundering over moral qualms, he just clears his throat. “And who’s he?” 

“My best friend,” you say. “The one person who’s been by my side since the second I moved to New York. He means everything to me.”

Peter feels his heart skip a beat. “Yeah?” 

“He’s like— like the opposite of Ethan, and it’s wonderful. I guess that’s why Pete irks him so much. Y’know,” you pull out your phone and start typing in your password, “maybe I should call him. He always knows what to say.” 

“No!” Peter exclaims with a bit too much force, causing you to give him a look. “No— I mean, it’s late. He’s probably asleep. And— and it’s a school night?” 

You tilt your head, and Peter exhales when it seems to work. “True. He’s probably studying for that biochem test.” You grimace. “I should be doing that too.” 

He watches you type out a few texts and send them, and Peter’s never been more thankful to have his phone on silent. What a way that would be to blow his cover. 

You shove your phone back in your pocket with another sigh. “I just hate that my boyfriend and my best friend don’t get along. I love them both—why can’t they like each other?” 

“I mean…” Peter trails off when you look at him, and he gestures with his head. “It seems pretty obvious why they don’t get along.” 

“Yeah,” you say dryly. “Because Ethan thinks Peter likes me, and he probably thinks I have some secret crush on him too. I swear, he’s always looking for a reason to fight.” 

God, could the universe be calling him out any more? It’s honestly ridiculous how this is going. 

“Do you?” Peter asks, because he can’t help himself. “Like him, I mean.” 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “I love Pete, I do. It’s always been the two of us no matter what. But I…”

He holds his breath as he tries not to look at you, tries not to make it too obvious that he might have stumbled his way into his simultaneous dream and nightmare scenario. 

He’s had a crush on you for what feels like forever. Since you stood up for him against his bullies in elementary school, honestly, and it’s only grown over the years as the two of you have grown. From recesses spent together and bike rides through the city; spending the night in Peter’s apartment because it was easier for your sister to let it happen than try and drag you back home; endless nights with heads bent over textbooks trying to study for tests, over college applications trying to get into the same place, and now studying and researching near every damn weekend together because you’re both unfortunate enough to try for ESU STEM degrees. 

You were there when Ben died. He’s there on every anniversary of your parents’ accident. Without knowing it, you were there when he got bit and his whole life turned upside down. 

You and Peter have been there every step of the way for each other, and it’s why he’s content with just friendship—Peter wants you in his life no matter what. But he can’t lie and say he doesn’t hope. 

No, actually. He yearns. He’s doomed to be a yearner for the rest of his life because he’ll never stop loving you. How could he? 

“I’m not sure,” you finally say with a sigh. “All I know is that I’d rather be with Pete tonight than Ethan.”

Peter wonders if your chest compressions are still as good as they were in high school, because he feels like he’s about to have a heart attack. 

You’d rather be spending tonight with him than your boyfriend of two years and seven months, and Peter isn’t even supposed to know. 

You mistake his silent freakout for nonchalance, and you clear your throat as you jump back onto solid ground. 

“Well, I’ve spilled my soul to you,” you say wryly, crossing your arms. “Anything a superhero can spill in return?”

Peter thinks for a good, long second. His hands itch to take off his mask, to do what he’s wanted to do since he got bitten by that stupid spider and show you who he really is. 

How many times has he been a total asshole, canceling plans on you because he had to go stop some supervillain from wreaking havoc in Times Square? How many times has he been late to something important to you because he was caught up stopping dime a dozen muggings? He still remembers the look on your face when he showed up just in time to miss the entirety of Les Mis’s opening night with your first lead role. 

You were a better best friend to Peter than he was to you because of this stupid mask. If he took it off, it wouldn’t make every mistake fade away, but it would sure help explain some of it. 

But Peter has been doing this since high school, and he has seen far too many times what happens to the loved ones of heroes. They’re used as leverage, used for ransom, sometimes just straight up killed.

You’ve been friends with Peter since you and your sister moved into the apartment next to May’s thirteen years ago. It doesn’t matter if you never share Peter’s feelings. You’re one of the only constants in his life, and he’s not going to lose you because he’s too selfish to keep a secret. 

Losing you would be the last straw. He couldn’t take it. 

So Peter pushes all thoughts of secret identities revealed out of his mind and tries to chuckle convincingly. 

“I’m allergic to peppermint, believe it or not.” 

You stare at him, deadpan. “That’s nowhere close to all the shit I just gave you.” 

“It’s true!” he exclaims, holding up his hands. “Happened after I got bit by the spider. They’re repelled by peppermint oil, and I guess I am too.” 

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Spider-man is a coward.” 

“A superhero’s gotta have some secrets,” he says, and he taps the side of his head. “Otherwise this thing doesn’t do much good.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “Whatever.” 

A chill suddenly goes up Peter’s spine and he whips around—he can hear a distant scream followed by a distant gunshot, and he mentally curses. 

“Duty calls?” you ask, drawing his attention back to you. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m sorry—” 

“Don’t be.” You smile, and it’s genuine. A nice change from the state Ethan effortlessly puts you in. “You went out of your way to cheer me up. Pretty super of you.” 

“I hope it makes up for the eavesdropping,” he says. 

“More than,” you nod. “Now get out of here. Your city needs you.” 

Peter nods too, and he backflips onto his original spot. “Have a good night. You’re real special to somebody.” 

He’s gone before you can say anything else, already zipping across the rooftops to get to the scene of the crime. Peter can only think of your face as he swings through the air—all the things he’s too scared to say to you. 

The crime, which turns out to be yet another petty theft, is resolved easily enough with some punches, kicks, and a snappy one-liner. Once he’s retrieved the woman’s purse and alerted the police, he’s back in the sky. 

Peter only stops once he’s swung a couple miles away, perching on the edge of some rooftop for some actual peace and quiet. He checks around once or twice to make sure he’s not somehow back at your place, and when he’s sure it’s all clear, he pulls his phone out. He swipes past all the notifications he’s racked up until he finds the one he’s looking for: the texts from you. 

hey pete, I know you’re prob asleep rn but you were right. I really need to study for that test lol

wanna meet me at the library tomorrow after QM? I’ll buy the coffee this time i promise <3 

as long as you use your roomie’s dining dollars to get me a croissant lol 

Peter can’t help but smile, larger than anything tonight. This is why he’s okay with being nothing but your friend for the rest of his life. 

Deal. Anything to get you an A 

lol

asshole 

Never 

Try to get some sleep. No good studying on a tired brain 

Three dots appear for a good long second, enough to constitute a decent paragraph—then they disappear. In its place: 

I’ll try just for you 

night boy genius

(How could he not love you?) 

Night, girl wonder