#its 2am i should sleep instead of writing angst

[aew-regression-cove]

okay first, the scene in Topgun Maverick in the snow with Mav an Roo is chaos and I luv it- made me giggle and second my brain shouldnt be allowed to think about angsty things cos I have something topgun in my drafts now that idk if I wanna post, made me cry a little writing it-

[silverwhiteraven]

Beauty and Self-Expression in Wing Culture

So it's like 3am as I start to write this, and instead of sleeping at 2am I was thinking about the Wing AU I've been seeing for Miraculous Ladybug, courtesy of these three lovelies: @justaferal-bastard @thechatsmeow @tizzymcwizzy

[Warning: I got carried away and this goes from analysis, to idea, and then into a short fic-snippet.]

Actual Warning: It gets kinda, like, minor-angst about how the idea works?? More of a potential hurt/comfort at the end, IDK? But it has character growth! We stan Adrien rebellion against Gabriel! And healthy use of beauty products!

Anyways!!!

I love AUs like this that are saying 'What if Idea! What if apply Idea to World!' And then there's me, who likes to say 'Yes, yes! Now lets take World, and apply it to Idea.' And this is what happens.

So I was having some thoughts and things about Adrien and his wings, ya know? The wings are always tucked in close to back, always straight up, always prim and proper and stoic, as his Father and social economic class dictates. It puts people off at first because wings are one of the first things you see, one of the first things you subconsciously assess and judge and take into account. But to anyone who actually looks at the rest of him and stays around him and pays attention to him notice, there's a clear disconnect between how he holds his wings and how his actual personality is. It becomes obvious that his wings are like that from years of following a rule of conduct given to him, and a lot of birdie-see-birdie-do behavior of being around his own family and the Bourgeois.

Basically, wings, too, are subjected to self-images and self-expression. People of higher classes use their wings to show their class, power, and wealth; 'I don't fly' is basically 'I don't have to work for what I want'. Lower classes do that sort of thing less and less, and their wings are used more freely to express the self; not just free in actual movement, but with decorations as well, with things like feather-dyes, jewelry, and fake/decorative feathers and down to make themselves more unique and more like themselves.

Then I thought, well, what else? What about cultural beauty standards?

Well wing-types likely will be subjected to this, much like body-types. Already certain wings already have inherent uses. Falcon-like wings for speed, goose wings capable of long distances, hummingbird's for agility; all these physical traits that may or may not even match up with the main body that on its own also gets told has types meant for certain activities (tall people and basketball anybody?). Imagine all those wings that are colored and shaped like those of Birds of Paradise, though, swoon. But those weren't the thoughts I had.

My thought was the techniques in which beauty standards are met and maintained. Physical things that alter the looks. For the normal body, we have things like paddings, corsets, binders, and lifestyles, too, like dieting and working out. Extremes can even go to surgery.

So here was the specific thought I had about Adrien:

Wing-Binding.

Using unseen binds like netting, straps, or even cords, hidden underneath the feathers and down, to hold the wings in place and in whatever form is wanting to be presented.

Everyone should know that long-term and over-use of anything that restricts the body is unhealthy and can cause damage, even permanently. And I imagine Adrien has been modelling since he was small, too, so he would have been subjectes to it since before he even knew what it was, what it could do. Before he could comprehend what was happening and give consent to it.

Shealtered and with all his social and media intake controlled, he would have no clue that these are things he should be allowed to not do. And, sorry to anyone who liked the picture-perfect Mother Image Adrien paints of Emilie, but just like with him not being allowed to go to school or socialize outside of Chloé, or having to work a job and take unwanted extracurricular lessons and activities, Mama Agreste, at the very least, enabled Gabriel to doing something such as Wing-Binding to their unconsenting amd still-growing child.

Given! It isn't absolute in how bad it is, he can remove them for physical activities like P.E. and Fencing, or when photo shoots are doing Wing-Fashion, and when he's at home, too, but still, all that time in public having to use them because his Father says so sucks, a lot.

And again, the damage it could cause, both to his wings as they grow, not being allowed to stretch and strengthen, but also to the feathers, having to grow past and rub and push against what's holding them or sitting below.

It's kinda heartbreaking thinking how lovely he looks but just how much getting to that pleasing image might have just crippled him.

And then I thought about Chat Noir.

Chat, with wings free to move as he pleases, free to droop and drag, free to stretch and feel the wind, free to puff up and shield another.

And when he stretches those wings, be they magically dyed a new color or made bigger, they now have an emphasis on the burden they bear outside of the magic.

The feathers once unseen when tucked are now out and bare, spread out as he makes himself look bigger while he hisses and intimidates an Akuma. Everyone can see how the edges of his feathers are jagged and don't smooth out, some of the shafts are crooked or even broke, and as he beats his wings, they swear some will simply come out, from the quil and all, and disintegrate before they even touch the ground.

Ladybug asks him about it, and he grins and shrugs, "Probably a stylistic choice on my Kwami's part; they aren't actually that bad when I'm out of the suit."

"Mon gryffon," she calls his attention to her with one of her nicknames, a serious and sad look in her eyes. "Not that bad is still bad. Why are they like that?"

"Bindings kinda chaff sometimes, I think the suit just makes it look really bad," he answers, but he doesn't understand, why is she looking at him like that? A little bit of it clicks. "I thought most did it?"

She shakes her head, spreading her own, beautiful wings to him, and he can't help but reach out and run his claws gently through them. Her's don't show the signs of the Wing-Bindings his do. His head snaps to look down to the Parisians on the streets and those above them in the air, looking for signs of his own condition in the open wings. His heart beats hard and it almost hurts as another piece clicks.

"No, Chat Noir," Ladybug answers softly, "that isn't normal... Whoever makes you use those, they shouldn't have. No one still growing their wings should ever use those, ever."

He nods in understanding. His grin, long gone, comes back as he whipes away the tears that has built and he holds out a hand to his partner. "Care for one last fly before we part ways? I think I still need the practice." Especially since I've never flown outside of the suit, and I don't think I'll get a chance to yet, either, goes left unsaid.

But sometimes realizations like this are a part of the recovery. Chat Noir flies with his Lady, and thinks about how Adrien is going to tell his Father he won't wear the Wing-Bindings again, or at least about how to hide the future fact that he got rid of them all so that he can't anyways. He thinks about how he's going to practice flying, maybe ask Marinette for tips.

Chat Noir, the Gryffon of Paris, adds a new determination for the future, alongside winning Ladybug's heart and defeating Hawkmoth: Let his wings be free, and heal, because he'll be damned if he lets Chat Noir be the only time he ever flies, and, once his role as the Black Cat is over, with no suit to aid him, he will simply burn his Father's company to the ground if he never gets to fly again because of what Gabriel had done.

Anyways!! That was the thoughts I was having, it's 4:30am and I hope y'all really like, uh, whatever this is!!!!

[fanmoose12]

Found your account at almost 2AM and it was the first thing I thought of discovering in the morning. And look at me now, it's been almost an hour and I can't stop scrolling down cuz IT4S JUST SO AMAZING. Can i request some levihan angst AU about one of them being tortured then getting saved by the other one? Thank you for your magestic writing

ok, so it's set in modern setting but the events are similar to the uprising arc in canon???? anyways, i hope you like it, take care :)

Hange watched, disinterested, as a big burly man picked up a large knife and then crouched next to her.

“I would advise against it.” Hange noted nonchalantly.

The man stared at her, dumbfounded. “You would advise against what?”

“Doing that,” Hange nodded at the knife. “Hurting me.” She added, when she saw that her previous words didn’t help to clear the fog in the man’s eyes.

The man gave her a feral smile. “Really?” he cocked his head to the side. “Do tell me then why I shouldn’t hurt you.”

“Well, you do know who I’m married to, right?”

The man gave Hange another confused look, and Hange was honestly surprised by that. So he wasn’t one of the thugs, who kidnapped her so they could get their revenge on Levi? Was she kidnapped because someone actually needed her, and wasn’t just looking for the way to hurt Levi? Well, Hange thought to herself with a grin, that made this whole situation less humiliating. Even if Hange got caught like the biggest fucking idiot. Although, in her defense, she hadn’t been sleeping for the last two days, too engrossed in her research, and it made her less aware about her surroundings. However, Hange knew that this explanation wouldn’t work on Levi. Oh, her husband would get so furious, Hange could already picture his angry little face, with his eyes narrowed dangerously at her and his angry voice shouting at her to be more careful.

Hange returned her gaze to her kidnapper, squinting suspiciously at him. “You really don’t know?” she asked, just to be sure.

“Lady, I don’t give a fuck about who you are married to,” the man growled. “The only thing I care about is the location of Erwin Smith. Which I expect you to reveal for me.”

Hange wanted to shout in triumph. She loved Levi and their marriage was one of the best things that happened to her, but sometimes it was really hard being his wife. Levi was a cool strong man, who beat up bad guys on a daily basis, and Hange loved him for that! She admired his strength and his convictions and how he was willing to sacrifice even his life to help other people. But. Every fucking criminal in their city thought it would be wise to kidnap Levi Ackerman’s wife just so they could screw with him. And Hange really hated to be the damsel in distress. She knew how to defend herself, and she was fucking good at it, but, sometimes, well, sometimes, like in this particular instance, she became too absent-minded to notice two guys following her through the dark alley. She didn’t notice them until they jumped right onto her, pressing a chloroformed handkerchief to her nose. Ah, well, no big deal. Happens to everyone.

Hange gave the man a big, toothy smile. “Listen,” she began cheerfully. The man stared at her with wide eyes, obviously shocked by the sudden change in her behavior. “I would really, really, like to tell you about that, but,” if Hange’s hands weren’t bound behind her back, she would have shrugged, but now she could only bat her eyelashes at the man, feigning innocence. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that. That’s classified information.”

The man growled in frustration, and grabbing Hange by the hair, he punched her hard. Hange’s head lolled to her side, but surprisingly the blow didn’t hurt as much as she expected. Did he go easy on her?

“Tell me where Erwin Smith is!” The man demanded angrily. He held Hange’s shirt in his fists, putting her face close to his. As he began shouting at her, Hange felt the smell of his breath. Eugh, she thought, now she kinda understood why Levi was such a clean-freak. The man reeked and it was disgusting.

“I don’t know where he is!” Hange exclaimed, deciding to change the strategy. “You took the wrong person, I’m just a scientist, I’m not involved in Erwin’s secret plans!”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” the man shook her again, looking furiously at her. “I know who you are! I know everything about you!”

Hange smirked, cocking her head to the side and regarding the man with interest. “Do you?”

“You are Hange Zoe, a researcher and lead scientist in Erwin’s Smith agency called “Wings of Freedom”. You are his right-hand man and I’m sure he doesn’t need to tell you about his plans, as more than half of them are devised by you.”

Hange couldn’t lie to herself, she was impressed. She thought he was just an amateur, but this man actually knew a lot about her, in fact he knew too much.

“And yet you have no idea who my husband is,” Hange raised her head and looked at the celling. It was dump and leaking. “A grave mistake, really.” She sighed.

“I told you I don’t care--“

“But you should,” Hange cut him off. “If you value your life, of course.”

“Oh?” the man raised his eyebrow sarcastically. “Then please tell me who your husband is.”

Hange grinned at the man. “Does the man Levi Ackerman ring any bells to you?”

It was a fantastic sight. The man palled immediately, his eyes widening in shock and his gaze filling with fear.

Hange’s grin grew wider. “You know, how angry he would get? Oh, he would get so angry with you, he would be furious!” Hange snickered, watching how the man slowly swallowed. “No one likes when Levi gets angry, well, I do like it, but only because sex with angry Levi is amazing. But I don’t think you’ll enjoy what Levi would do to you. You stole his precious wife, after all, and believe me, he loves me very much.”

To Hange’s surprise, her threats had a diametrically different reaction. She probably went too far, because instead of being scared, the man, like a cornered animal, got angry. He grabbed Hange by her hair again and punched her for the second time. That hit was much stronger than the first one, splitting Hange’s lip and throwing the glasses off her face. They fell to the ground loudly, the sound of broken lenses filling the room.

“That was your second mistake,” she told him grimly, spitting out the blood in her mouth. “You broke my glasses and that was the third broken pair this month. Now you’ve made me angry too.”

"Oh, and what are you going to do?” the man gripped the knife in his hand tighter. “Need I to remind you that you are currently tied up to a pipe in my basement. You are bloodied, alone, and completely at my mercy. And besides,” the man made a show of looking around and squinting into darkness. “I can’t see your husband here, whoever he is, so you better be a good girl and just tell me the truth.”

Hange lowered her head, her hair falling to obscure her face. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because… Because then Erwin will get angry with me. And I hate when he does that. He always scolds me like some school teacher, like… like an angry math teacher!”

Hange suddenly remembered her high school math teacher, she had hated the man, and she was sure that the feeling was more than mutual. A sharp pain in her shoulder, however, reminded her that she was getting distracted.

Hange looked to her left and saw that the man’s big knife was now stuck in her shoulder. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from crying out. She was Hange fucking Zoe, she wouldn’t let some amateur asshole have the satisfaction of seeing her scream in pain.

“I’m fucking sick of you!” the man shouted. “Just tell me the information so I can finally kill you!”

Hange threw her head back and laughed. “Really shouldn’t have told me that. Why would I tell you anything now?”

The man tore his knife out of Hange’s skin. He began playing with its edge, regarding Hange with thoughtful eyes.

“I’ll give you one more chance,” the man said finally. “I’ll give you an hour, so you сould reconsider your answer. And I’ll give you a little cut,” he grinned, showing his knife. “To give you some motivation.”

Hange met his amused eyes with icy cold stare.

“You can do that,” she said in a low, dangerous voice, baring her bloodied teeth at the man. Her injured face and crazy eyes made her look almost feral and the man took a step back, terrified but unable to look away from Hange. What kind of man this Levi Ackerman was, if that scary woman was his wife? “You can also shoot me, strangle me, hit me again, whatever tortures your tiny mind comes up with, but no matter what you do, no matter how much you hurt me, I will never, ever betray Erwin’s trust.”

The man felt sweat gathering on his forehead and his hands began to shake. He gripped the handle of the knife harder. He was sure that whoever sat in front of him, it wasn’t just a woman. Looking at her, kneeling on the dirty floor of his basement, her eyes ablaze with fury, he wasn’t even sure she was a woman, that she was a human at all. She was a monster, a fucking demon, and he cursed himself for taking this job.

But there was nothing he could do. If her husband was even half as dangerous as this woman, it meant he had to finish his business quickly and then run fast and far. But before running away like a goddamn coward, though, he needed to give his boss the location of Erwin Smith.

So, holding his favorite knife securely in his grasp, he plumaged it deep into woman’s stomach. The sharp edge pierced her soft flesh like it was nothing. The woman kept looking at him with the same fierce glare, her face never changing, as though she didn’t even feel the pain.

The man staggered shakily to his feet, kicking woman’s leg with his as he stood over her.

“I’ll ask you again in an hour.” He promised before leaving her alone in the dark cold room.

 Hange sat on the damp floor, surrounded by darkness. She wondered how much time has passed. To her it felt like ages went by since the man shut the door after himself, but surely it couldn’t be more than an hour? The blood was oozing from the wound on her stomach, forming a pool under her legs. Hange smirked grimly, things didn’t seem to go very smoothly for her right now.

Hange couldn’t help but wonder: where the fuck was Levi? Usually it didn’t take him a lot of time to find her, beat up all the bad guys, and then heroically save her, all the while grumbling about her stupidity.

Suddenly Hange remembered. The day before her kidnapping. She told Levi not to wait for her in the evening, saying that she had a deadline on her research project and there was a lot of work at the lab and she would probably sleep on the couch in her cabinet. But as Hange spent her day in the lab, it turned out that there weren’t many things left for her to check and re-check. Moblit volunteered to finish the rest and so Hange decided to surprise Levi and come home earlier.

Yeah, surprise him she did.

Feeling her head getting dizzy because of the blood loss, Hange wondered: could it be that Levi didn’t even notice her disappearance? A chill ran through her spine as Hange’s head filled with unwanted, panicked thoughts. She already lost a lot of blood, and even if she can survive that, the angered man would return and then surely kill her. She needed to think how to escape, because telling him about Erwin’s location was definitely out of question. Even the threat of death wouldn’t make Hange betray her friend. 

Before Hange could start planning her escape, the door of the basement opened. After sitting so long in the dark, Hange was blinded by the bright light, coming from the corridor.

The man walked up to her slowly, taking pleasure in watching how pale Hange was and how labored her breaths were.

“Ah, you don’t look so good, honey,” the man smiled all too sweetly at Hange. He crouched next to her again, and his loyal knife was held tightly in his palm. “Do you want my help?”

Hange sneered at him. “Go fuck yourself.”

Suddenly, Hange heard something. The sound was quiet, almost silent, and the man probably didn’t hear it. But Hange did. And she recognized it immediately. After all, she would be a pretty bad wife, if she didn’t know her husband just by the sound of his footsteps.

The man didn’t notice anything, didn’t even seem to see the grin that spread at Hange’s lips. He raised his hand, as though to grab Hange by her chin. Levi was at him in a second, sizing his giant head in his hands and then quickly snapping his neck.

“Fucking scum.” Levi spat out. “Wanted to touch my wife with his filthy hands.”

Levi stared at the dead body for another second, before turning his attention to Hange.

“What the fuck, four-eyes?” Levi asked angrily as he went behind her back to untie her hands. “It’s the third kidnapping this month. The third. When will you get your head out of your ass and finally start noticing when people are following you?”

Hange chuckled, relief and happiness making her head spin. Or maybe it was the blood loss. Well, part of it was definitely due to the blood loss, but she was really happy to see Levi.

When Levi was done with the ropes, he took Hange’s wrists into his hands and gently rubbed the bruised skin. Still holding her hands into his, Levi came to sit in front of Hange.

His brows were furrowed in annoyance, as he was probably still angry at Hange’s carelessness, but his eyes showed how worried he was for her.

Levi’s breath hitched as he finally took notice of the extent of Hange’s injuries.

“It looks worse than it actually is,” Hange was quick to assure him. She didn’t want Levi to faint.

Slowly, with trembling hands Levi grabbed the end of Hange’s shirt and lifted it up. He cursed when he saw a wide gushing wound that ran through Hange’s stomach. His grip on her shirt tightened, and Levi turned to glare at the already dead man.

“Oi, Levi,” Hange gently touched his cheek, making him look at her. “He’s already dead and can’t do any harm to me. Besides, the wounds don't hurt that much.”

“Your hand is cold.” Levi grumbled.

“What?”

“Your hand is cold,” Levi repeated in the same gruff voice. “It’s always warm and now it’s cold, so don’t fucking tell me you are fine. If I hadn’t arrived in time, if I hadn’t called to check on you in the evening, you would have died, Hange.”

“But you arrived in time,” Hange gently smiled at her husband. “I’m still alive, because you saved me, just like you always do.”

“You saved me first.” Levi muttered under his breath and carefully approached Hange, kneeling beside her.

Hange put her hands around his neck, and then Levi put his hands under her knees, slowly lifting her up.

The moment Levi’s warmth enveloped her, Hange’s eyes closed and she drifted to sleep.

 The first thing Hange noticed upon waking up was the feeling of someone’s hand tightly clutching hers. The second thing she felt was the smell of antiseptics. Judging by the soft bed and the annoying beeping of the machinery, Hange guessed she was in hospital.

She slowly opened her eyes and sat up. Her shoulder and stomach hurt a little, however the moment her eyes landed on the familiar mop of black hair, all uncomfortable feelings were replaced by immense love and adoration Hange felt for that man. With her free hand, Hange touched Levi’s head, her fingers immediately tangling in his soft locks. Levi’s head was on her lap, as he fell asleep in the hospital chair.

“Idiot,” Hange whispered fondly, looking at her husband. His whole body would be sore, when he wakes up, but Hange didn’t have the heart to disturb his peaceful slumber. It wasn’t often that Levi slept so soundly and the recent events probably tired him out.

“I tried to make him go home, but he didn’t listen.” Hange heard a familiar deep voice. She whipped her around and smiled when she saw who was sitting on the other side of her bed.

“Erwin!” Hange exclaimed, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible.

“You haven’t noticed me, until now, huh?” Erwin chuckled. “After so many years of marriage you two are still so in love with each other, it’s impressive. I tried so hard to send Levi home, but he stubbornly refused to leave your side. Even Moblit agreed to get some sleep and come back in the morning, but Levi didn’t budge.”

“Ah,” Hange gazed at her husband tenderly. “He sure is a stubborn one.”

“Don’t say it like you aren’t the same. I swear you two were made for each other.” Erwin gave her a fond look, before his eyes suddenly turned serious. “Forgive me, Hange,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I got you involved, and by trying to keep me safe you’ve got hurt.”

“Oi, stop it, Erwin,” Hange’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “I’m a big girl and I can handle myself. And you didn’t get me involved, I got involved myself, so don’t you even think of blaming yourself.” Hange looked sternly at Erwin. “I forbade it.”

Erwin laughed, his hand squeezing Hange’s shoulder with affection.

“Levi obviously doesn’t share your feelings. When he found what that guy was after, he got so angry with me, I thought I would lose another arm too.”

Hange looked away, embarrassed. “Sometimes he worries too much.”

“Because he loves you.” Erwin told her softly. “So do try to stay out of trouble, Hange. You don’t want to become a widow, because your husband had a heart attack, right?”

Hange laughed. “Yeah, that would be quite troublesome. I mean, it would take some time to find a new husband-”

“Oi!” Levi tightened his hold on Hange’s hand, as he raised his head and glared furiously at her. “What was that shit about a new husband?”

“Levi!” Hange cried out in surprise. “I thought you were asleep!”

“I was. Until you two started blubbering.”

“Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?” Hange asked with a sly smile.

Levi rolled his eyes. “I was just giving you two idiots some privacy to talk about your feelings and shit.” Then he narrowed his eyes at Hange. “And you’re avoiding the question, four-eyes.”

“What? It was just a joke, Levi!” Hange threw the hand, that wasn’t held in Levi’s grasp, in the air.

“Do you already have someone you’re planning to marry after my death?”

“Of course, not!”

Levi looked at Hange closely. “Is it Moblit?”

“And yep, it’s time to take my leave,” Erwin announced, rising up from his chair. Neither Hange, nor Levi paid any attention to him, too busy glaring at each other.

When Erwin disappeared behind the door, Levi huffed.

“Fine,” he said, sighing. “You can marry Moblit after my death. But only if he takes good care about you.”

Hange turned away from him, pouting. “You’re such an idiot, Levi.”

Levi moved closer to Hange, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek. “And yet you still love me.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” And even though, Hange’s voice was still annoyed, her eyes, when they finally looked at Levi, shined with love.

Levi stared at Hange’s face and his hands involuntarily clutched into fists.

“Is it that bad?” Hange whispered.

“Not worse than usual,” Levi replied absent-mindedly, his eyes tracing the bruises on Hange’s face. “I killed that bastard too quickly. Should have let him suffer for what he did to you.”

“You’ve killed him and saved me,” Hange said softly. “That’s enough, Levi.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Levi admitted.

He put his hand on Hange’s cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin. Hange smiled at him and leaned into his touch.

“We will be fine, Levi.” Hange promised, looking deeply into Levi’s eyes.

“As long as we are together.” Levi agreed, placing a tender kiss to Hange’s lips.

[pcter-parker]

TOO MUCH (i) | (PETER PARKER X READER)

TOO MUCH PART ONE | PETER PARKER X READER

(A/N); Hello people of the universe! I know I’ve been gone for the longest time 7 months?? and I have many excuses on that, anyway, I recently finished another year of high school which means I have a little bit of time throughout summer break for me to write, yay! Anyhow, hope you enjoy this first actual part of Too Much, I don’t know how many part this series is going to have. Please give me feedback if you wanna, and make some requests! Sorry if you find any mistakes, I only proofread this once, whoops.

Disclaimers; So, I changed the story up while writing. In the intro, the reader didn’t know about Peter being Spider-Man but in this first actual part, they do. I changed it because my original plot was so similar to some stories out there already and I don’t want to repeat it again. I hope you’d love to see a a different angle of this story with a different perspective! I’ll link the intro down below.

Warnings; Lil’ bit of angst, lil’ bits of fluff, lil’ bits of my crap writing because it’s been so long.

Word Count; 1583

Too Much (Intro) (with a little change of story but you can read it to get the idea)

'Can you just tell me if you're not gonna show up?'

'I'm sorry, babe'

'Yeah... me too' 

You and Peter were supposed to have your 10 month anniversary date tonight, but guess what, Peter bailed again. Yeah, of course, he has his Spider-Man duties to fulfilled but sometimes, it's just a little too much.

He bailed on you for countless of times before, but you always try your best to understand. The world doesn't revolve around you. And Peter doesn't always belong to you.

You start walking home alone in the dark, knowing that out there, your Peter Parker is doing his job of protecting the city. You want to smile, you want to be happy, but you just can't. You just wanted Peter for tonight and you couldn't have him. This is how it's supposed to be. You know that. You always do.

You decide to turn the corner, heading to Peter's apartment instead. You know he will be home later on tonight anyway, you don't care when, you know he'll come back eventually. The anniversary night for you both doesn’t have to be big, you just want to lay by his side and know that at the end of the day– he’s yours.

Hours and hours have passed by and you’re still inside the parkers’ apartment– the empty parkers’ apartment. May still hasn’t come back and Peter is probably still swinging his webs up and down all across Queens. It’s getting late, the day is almost over, you’ve thought about going back home and pretend that today’s just another random day on the calendar but you can’t. You’re staying here. The only thing that makes your day better in the end is knowing that he’s safe, knowing that the city didn’t hurt him too much, that you get to hear everything that happened like you were there protecting the city with him, and getting to hear him say I love you and fall asleep in your arms like always.

You walked over to Peter’s room— your favourite room of this place. You’re going to get a full rested sleep tonight at least. You haven't had a proper night rest in a while because you always wait up for Peter to finish his patrol, but you don't mind it.

You walk over to his opened drawer, grab his sweater that's peeking out and head to the bed– you need something of his to accompany you at least. Knowing that Peter might come back in a bit, you climb onto his bed, hugging his sweater tight, hoping get to celebrate a few hours left of this day in this comfy bed. Together.

Peter feels like crap, honestly. He doesn't feel motivated while doing his 'night job' at all. The only thing he wants is for the crimes to end so he could go back. Usually he would never dare to feel anything like this– never. He knows his part, he needs to protect the city.

With great power comes great responsibility.

He tells himself that one more time before shooting another shot, flying down to the muggers on the corner of the street.

As soon as the night ends, as soon as he sees the peace and quiet of Queens again, it's time for him to swings himself back to the roof of his apartment building. Peter stands still and stares out into the city. Looking out there— in the night, he sees blaring police sirens, an ambulance going faster than ever– with its flashing light everywhere, crowds of people walking back and forth all over the streets. It strikes him why he's doing this— why he became spider-man in the first place. He remembers all the little guys. The little guys who aren't able to stand up for themselves. The little guy that once was him. The little guys who he's sworn to protect because they don't deserve it, like he didn't deserve it.

He sighs to himself, his breath filled with tiredness.

He starts climbing down the fire escape, going down to his apartment. Peter looks down to checks the time—it's already 2AM. His aunt is probably sleeping, but he still has to be careful like always. Luckily, the fire escape connects directly to his bedroom window, so as long as he keeps quiet, the sneaking in should be unnoticed.

Peter finally reaches his floor. He slowly touches the window to open it up, but as soon as he starts looking around—he sees you. Of course, he sees you, he always does. It doesn’t matter if it’s dark or lights out, you will always be the only thing that he sees. Like how he’s seeing you in his dark room right now– still shining. He can see you sleeping so peacefully in his bed, holding on to his sweater for dear life. He can't help but smile to himself with a mixture of both sadness and happiness. The sweater shouldn't have been there, but he should've been there. He looks around to make sure of the safety before taking his mask off. He shakes away the dusts and clutch it back in his hands. His eyes start to adjust to the dark now and he can see your face even clearer. You have a little bit of the outside city lights flashes over your face—not too bright though, just enough to give you the warmest glow. Peter slowly plop down to sits on the fire escape instead–­ refuse to go in. He'd hate to be the one who breaks you out of your sleep. He knows how much you need it. There have been so many nights you waited up for him to come back and they costed you so many hours that they shouldn’t. He tried telling you that you don't need to do that, but you never listened.

How could you though? What if Peter needed you that night and you weren’t there for him? You would never be able to forgive yourself.

He doesn't know how long he spend watching you sleep until you slowly shift your body and turn around to sleep facing the window. At this point, you can feel a shadow blocking the light source from the outside even with your eyes closed, causing you to flutter them open only to see a familiar friendly face.

Both pair of your eyes meet. You give out a gentle sleeping smile and he does the same in return. Another minute passes with just you both staring at each another with a separation from a window. You finally push yourself up from the bed, hands reaching out to slide the window open.

"Hi." You mumble with the same soft smile when there’s no more window to separate the two of you apart now.

"Hi." He whispers back and start climbing into his room. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed and guides you to sit next to him.

Even though the room is still dark with no lights on, you can still see each other's face so clearly, like Peter is the only focus of the room for you. And you are the only focus in the room for him.

After a minute pause, Peter starts. "I'm sorry I missed our anniversary again, (y/n), I honestly didn't mean t—"

You shake your head right away, "No, no, no, no." His words got cut off by yours. "Don’t say that." You turn sideways to face him a little better. "Don't ever say sorry for being a hero, Peter."

He sighs, feeling guilty. You can see the guilt strikes across his face.

"It was supposed to be our day." He starts again. "We had this whole dinner movie date planned out and it was supposed to be nice and perfect and—"

You grab his face and pull him in for a kiss. He can talk too much sometimes. And if he keeps the guilt talking up for too long, it'd make you feel guilty too eventually, and you don't want to feel like that tonight. Both of you pull apart finally but still keeping both of your forehead touched and eyes still glued together.

"It doesn't matter." You insist. "It's just another stupid overrated day. We can start over."

Your voice shakes slightly in the end, because, frankly, you’re not so sure if you believe yourself as much as you should've, but you know it's true, you realise that now. It's just another day. Every day is just another day. You can pick another one and have your anniversary anytime you want. Right?

He nods in reply. “Just another day then.”  And repeats in a mumble.

"How about we have it now?" Peter suggests, moving his hands to take a hold of yours. Still looking at you.

"Huh?"

"I mean, we're here now? Only if you don't mind staying up all night, though because it's already about 2AM, but hey, we don't have school tomorrow, which is totally awesome and it's only 2 hours later than the actual day so that's cool too—"

You can't help but laugh at Peter for how jittery and happy he is. This happy boy is the one you fell in love for, not the one who needs to be sad when he misses a date. 

"Yes, yes, of course. Let's have it right now then.” You respond in a big happy smile. “Because, at least, we're here now, right?"

"Yup, at least we're here now”

TAG LIST

(I’m just gonna tag everyone who liked/rebloged the intro and people who’ve asked me to, tell me if you wanna be removed or added!)

@love-allthingsmarvel @johnmurphys-sass @imaginesofthemind @secretavngers @amanda-sct @i-sometimes-say-stupid-things @sebby-padalecki @the-gingerkid @skylow34 @castleblck @xxamanda23xx @chrisevansforlife @mimic-on @trekchekov @voidagncs @moganmatrix77