Saving You - Peter Parker

there is only one sentence you need to know as a manifestor:

the 3D/physical world isn’t real. only the mind is.

disclaimers:

this is slightly rant-y though i don’t attack you, i uplift you

excuse any grammar errors!

credit to all the artists whose art was used!

let’s get into it.

you do not exist/live in the 3D, you simply perceive your own mind and assumptions in three dimensions. the 3D is an illusion. it isn’t real. the phone you’re reading this on, your surroundings, me writing this post, “other” people, they’re not real.

this will literally answer all the questions you have about LOA. examples include:

“what if what i’m doing won’t make anything manifest in the 3D?” then boo-fucking-hoo? it wouldn’t even matter because that’s not where you live. you’re 4-dimensional. if it’s happened in the 4D, it’s fucking happened! put it in your success story list. rejoice now that it’s happened. because it has! the 3D is NOT real, the 4D is so you should be checking the 4D! think about this question: “what if it doesn’t manifest in the 2D (a world of only length and width)?” i bet you’re like “womp womp? the fuck would that have to do with me? i don’t live there!” give that SAME energy to the 3D.

“where is it in the 3D?” why do you care? it’s not where you live. CONSCIOUSNESS is the only reality. you heard me. you shouldn’t give a fuck about whether it will manifest in the 3D or not because the 3D doesn’t determine reality, YOU do. why do you want confirmation from an illusion when you can have confirmation from what’s actually real?

“but if i stop caring about whether it’ll manifest or not, it might not manifest!” first of all, womp womp then? you don’t live there. in the 3D. second of all, that’s literally impossible unless you directly/intentionally assume that it’s the case. the 3D literally EXISTS as a reflection/limited perception of the mind. it’s LAW that it will come. and the last time i checked, “i don’t care whether it comes or not” and “it won’t come” are different statements. but what i just find so hilarious about this one specific doubt is that you’ve literally just PROVEN your THOUGHTS create the 3D.

“i can’t manifest abc! it goes against the laws of physics/circumstances etc” lemme just get this straight. the MIND is the only reality yet you are lying and saying it has limits based off of 3D “law”? and the 3D is not real meaning the “laws” of the 3D aren’t either? the 3D doesn’t and will never be able to tell the mind what to do. that being said, you can manifest pissing a million bucks, teleporting into a villa in italy or becoming wanda fucking maximoff and developing superpowers. you can manifest hulk hogan flying across the pacific to your door and proposing to you, hell, you can even manifest BECOMING hulk hogan. you can manifest your SPs buying you three million bentleys then making out with you in each of them. you. can. manifest. ANYTHING. you. can. manifest. anything. you. can. imagine. you’re OMNIPOTENT.

this one is very interesting cause it’s a response to doubts! “if i keep doubting, it won’t show up in the 3D!” the reason your doubts persist is because your mind thinks they actually mean shit and are an issue worth addressing. so what if it doesn’t show up in the 3D? it’s already happened.

“but what if im one of the odd ones out? what if i can’t manifest?” despite the fact that it’s scientific law, the rebuttal for this doubt is very simple. you wouldn’t be alive lmao. being alive is a constant act of the 3D reflecting your mind, that’s literally its only purpose. it’s an inanimate, mindless, limited perception of your mind that instantly conforms to your beliefs. you are CONSTANTLY manifesting. what you’re doing is just learning how to control WHAT you manifest. (just to set the record straight. this doesn’t mean you are to blame for your problems since you didn’t consciously choose them).

“the 3D isn’t showing me what i want!” well it isn’t real lmao? why the fuck would that matter?

one of the WORST beliefs you can have as a manifestor is that the goal of manifesting is changing the 3D. i know you (probably) came in thinking that but i want you to shed that belief. the 3D is not real. the goal is to get it in the 4D, where you live. when you accomplish that goal, rejoice and move on.

this is why i very, VERY heavily dislike the statement that “an assumption persisted in will harden into fact”. no, an assumption IS a fact. only regarding something as real when it manifests in the 3D (which isn’t real) is fallacious.

“thoughts create reality” i bet you’ve heard this before in this community but i don’t like this either for this simple reason: thoughts (that you accept) ARE reality.

my biggest piece of advice to you as a manifestor is this: realize that the 3D doesn’t mean shit.

when you DO get your manifestation in the 3D, it’s perfectly fine to be happy but don’t jump up and down saying “it’s finally happened (in reality)!”. NO. it happened in reality ages ago, the 3D just caught up.

i’m gonna link some really sexy posts that will help you understand this better. most of these are scientific.

https://www.reddit.com/r/NevilleGoddard/s/AmlHe5oipA (the post is up, i don’t understand why tumblr won’t embed it)

if you liked this post, leave a like, reblog, engage, follow, let me know if this helped 🫶😭

Awwww I love this series!!!!! Peter is being so cuteeeeeeeeeeee 🥺🥺🥺

The New Girl ~ Part 4

Stark!Reader

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Warnings: language, sorta suggestiveness

A/N: it’s insane how fast i’m getting these out bye ✋ i just can’t stop making them lmao. also just letting you know this is gonna have a lot of parts bc i’m trying not to do any time jumps in one post so that’s why this one is so short

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Taglist: @justafangirlduh @spookybooisa @pure-ghost @hufflepuffzutara @marvel-ousnesss @ithoughtyouweresokovian @onewithnomightypowers @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @marvelhoesworld @liljennyx3 @perspectiive @popluckbih @ehggowo @itscaminow @so-very-asleep @herondalism @peterspideysense

lmk if you would like to be tagged :)

The Reason Why You Are Limitless

Disclaimer: I'm releasing an old banger but a revised version as my perception has changed!These are just my personal beliefs, and it is completely open ended just like everything else. If you are searching for a “logical” answer this post isn’t for you, this post is for the shifting and manifesting baddies that are open minded to the “impossible” being possible. If you struggle with disassociation this post might not be for you.

We are constantly being told in the manifestation and reality shifting community that we are completely limitless. However, what does that mean exactly? EVERYTHING is made out of energy: our thoughts, emotions, physical bodies, nature, “physical objects,” etc at its ultimate core. Ultimately, we are pure consciousness not attached to any reality. We are the Multiverse experiencing itself. This is why manifestors say that consciousness is the only real reality, and when we enter the “void state” it’s already within us. The void state is just pure consciousness. We are simply entering our truest state of being where we always shift and manifest instantly, where negative thoughts, doubts, feelings, etc don’t exist because this isn’t our natural state of being. We are all “connected” to this energy, because we are all made out of the same energy that makes up the entire Multiverse: spirits, gods, deities, entities, yourselves, physical objects, animals, plants, planets, realities, dimensions, realms, and down to your thoughts. We are everything, everywhere, all at once. Everyone across the entire Multiverse shares a collective consciousness of “I AM” as we are all made up of the same energy. We are all One. I don’t say this to freak anyone out, this should be empowering to know that you have full control of your reality. You can be anything and anywhere right now no matter what. You can do anything and change anything instantly no matter what because time isn't real.

As pure consciousness who are the creators of our realities we have complete and ultimate freewill, so that you have the freewill to create your own beliefs and assumptions. There is no such thing as right or wrong, black or white, everything is grey including what you assume is true or not true. The only real reality is your imagination/consciousness/awareness, because everything is energy. The Multiverse is a paradox, everything and nothing exists at the same time because it all comes down to your dictation as to what is real and isn’t real in your reality. Everything that you can possibly imagine and desire already exists within you, as you are limitless and completely infinite. Nothing is impossible for you. Time is an illusion, and it doesn’t exist so in your imagination where the energy is at its rawest form you already have all of your desires (aka consciousness).

There are no laws of physics that dictate your reality, the concept of the laws of physics is simply your current awareness of reality, which can be easily changed as long as your awareness changes. You are all limitless and you can bend and change the laws of physics/the physical reality with your own assumptions. For example, you assume that you have the ability to fly, as long as you keep assuming that you can fly then your physical reality will transform that. ANYTHING is possible, you create your own rules down to the laws of physics of what is and isn’t possible in your realm of awareness of reality, which can differ for anyone else. Everything that you were taught: spirituality, religion, science, and witchcraft are simply real because you assume that they are real as you were taught since birth to accept certain things as “hardcore truths” when “hardcore truths” is simply an illusion. There are no such things as “ultimate truths” except the ones that you create within your own awareness of reality. This is why “fictional” realities exist, because they simply have a different awareness of reality/“laws of physics” than we do, which can easily be changed. For example, have you ever wondered why some people experience paranormal experiences and others don’t? While they may be real to you in your reality, may be unreal to others in their reality, and both are correct because it is your assumptions that dictates reality. In terms with death, spirits, gods, entities, the astral realm/concept of afterlife, laws of spirituality such as karma, reincarnation, etc-everything boils down to your assumptions as well. These energies are very real only if you perceive it to be real, but if you do not believe in them then they won’t exist in your reality because they will simply not abide by your personal laws of physics. Don’t limit yourself: you can manifest immortality, your desired reality, teleportation, manifesting instantly, time travel, time manipulation, whether you can fly or not, “fictional” characters shifting to your reality, etc as your “core” laws of reality, or lack of. It’s up to you.

Therefore, you completely create your rules to manifest, and how you manifest. Do you shift every time you manifest anything no matter what or simply manipulate the 3D? Up to you to decide, you are correct no matter what because this is your reality. "You" as pure consciousness is where your imagination, desires, assumptions, beliefs and thoughts reside and you already have your all you desires simultaneously because time is not real is the only place you should focus. The physical reality is simply an illusion, and is easily malleable and customisable. It can be changed and manipulated instantly so you can also always change your “laws” on how your reality works whenever you want to. Imagination is your only real reality, where creation is finished it is done. You are never creating anything you are simply being the person who already has your desire/are in your DR. It already exists within you as consciousness being the only real reality. Therefore, the concept of “fiction” and “impossible” isn’t real because what you deem as “fictional worlds” that are created already exist if you assume so. We have just been taught of certain things as “hardcore truths” within this perception of reality, which is completely false and can be changed instantly if we really wanted to. Every single little thing that you think of, desire, etc already exists in the imagination the only real reality right now. Essentially you are limitless you can be anything and anywhere no matter what because you already are that thing right now, no matter what it is. You just need to change your assumption to accepting it.

It should be noted that you do not need to enter the void state to be limitless. All you need to do is accept your true state that you are pure consciousness not attached to any reality or perception of reality, the void is already within you right now. You are the true, ultimate creator /God of your reality, you can even dictate your own “laws of physics” within your reality and what is “true” or “not true.” When you accept that you are more than just your physical body, you open a whole new world of possibilities you deemed “impossible.” You may ask yourself: If it’s the ultimate law that the physical reality must conform to the consciousness that I am (my desires) instantly no matter what then why doesn’t it happen? Whose to say that you can’t just blink right now and be in your DR or have your desired manifestation no matter what right now? Or that you can see the physical change before your eyes to fit your desires or DR? All of this is possible, the problem is that we have grown up in this current awareness of reality to overcomplicate and overthink everything. We think that we need to “believe,” “let go,” “feel happy,” etc. Also, let’s be honest subconsciously we also expect the physical reality to take “time” because we have been taught that we have to “wait” and “work hard” to get everything we want and put “limitations” to our desires. What you need to do is begin to assume that your physical reality instantly conforms to your desires before your eyes no matter what-you don’t need to believe, feel happy, let go, etc. Everything is energy, all you need to do is manipulate this energy by assume what you desire, and make it a dominant assumption. Your dominant assumptions (the energy you put mostly in) always create your reality. Don’t overcomplicate anything just keep assuming in your favour to manifest, shift, create your own laws of physics, etc because your imagination/consciousness already knows every single detail of what you desire since it already exists within you right now.

THIS WAS THE BEST PETER PARKER FIC!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I NEED MORE LIKE THIS!!!!!!

Can you please write a Peter Parker secretly dating reader with water/ice powers. I would really appreciate it. Thank you.

My Mini Elsa

A/N: Thank you for the request love! This is my first time writing a secret relationship, so I apologize if this is horrible- I have to admit, I love making up random icy nicknames- I feel like that's just something Peter would always do.

PARING: Peter Parker x Ice Powered Reader

SUMMARY: You and Peter are in a classical secret relationship. Only difference is he’s Spider-Man and you can control Ice.

WARNINGS: Not really any, just fluff

Peter had a longing look in his eyes as he watched you walk toward him with your friends, laughing at a joke they made. He wanted nothing more than to run up to you and shower your soft face with kisses, but he knew he couldn’t. Besides, it was his idea to keep your relationship a secret, he was Spider-Man, and being such he had acquired quite a few enemies, if they found out Spider-Man had a girlfriend, one who held the ability to control ice no less, you would be in constant danger. And Peter couldn’t live with himself knowing it was because of him. Instead he had to wait until you were alone to be able to hold you, touch you, tell you how much he absolutely adores you. Which was basically torturer for him.

As you walked past you caught Peters eye, sending him a sly wink before you walked off. His face turned a dusted pink and he immediately looked at his shoes, smiling to himself. The last thing you heard was Ned asking Peter what he was smiling at, turning him into a stuttering mess.

You were headed to your favorite class of the day, science, where Peter’s your lab partner, of course you could still talk to him any other time, you were friends, but you still loved having an excuse to be with him. Sitting down at your chair you smiled to Peter as he walked in, waving at you.

“How’s My Mini Elsa doing?” He asked you before he put his books down. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he knew you hated but he loved for some reason.

Peter was just about to lean in and press a kiss to your cheek out of habit but he stopped his reflex in time, sighing sadly.

“I’m better now you’re here Spidie” You said sweetly, Peters eyes widened slightly.

“Keep your voice down!” He whisper shouted, looking around the room which just drew attention to him. Honestly you wondered how the whole school hadn’t found out yet with how terrible he is at keeping secrets.

“Says the one who just called me ‘Mini Elsa.’ He pretended to contemplate it for a moment.

“Fair point, sorry Ice-cube.” You just hit him playfully in response.

“Why do you always have to use those nicknames?” You wined but deep down you loved it.

“Because your powers are super cool,” He slipped his arm around your waist and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“You think there cool?” You asked innocently and he nodded in return. You hummed as you subtly lifted your hand and froze the liquid in one of the beakers. Peters head shot to you in surprise.

“Y/N!” He scolded.

“What? No one will miss it” You shrugged, giving him your doe eyes that you knew he fell for every time. He let out an exaggerated breath, giving in as he glanced back to the now frozen glass making you giggle.

“Woah, getting a little handsy there aren’t we Penis Parker?” Yelled a voice that always made your stomach drop. Peter glared at Flash before reluctantly letting go of your waist, not wanting to blow your cover. You wined at the lack of touch and he sent you a sympathetic glance before gesturing for you to continue with your project.

Four horrible hours later and school was finally over, meaning that you could at last be with Peter freely. A smile graced your lips as you thought about it. The elevator doors dinged open before you skipped to his door knocking on it. Not even three knocks in, and it swung open surprising you, what surprised you more was the pair of arms that instantly wrapped around you. You barely even got to look at Peters face before he gently tugged you inside and embraced you with a warm hug.

“Well hello to you too, Pete,” You brushed your hands through his soft hair as you felt his breath tickle your collar bone.

“I missed you Y/N,” He nuzzled closer into your neck like a child, savoring your warm touch that he’d been deprived of all day.

“I missed you too,” You laughed. That’s when Peter suddenly picked you up- effortlessly thanks to his super strength, earning a shocked squeal from you. He started walking you towards his bedroom while looking up at you.

“You’re cute,” He smiled, making you look away shyly. After a bit of struggling Peter managed to swing his door open, almost dropping you in the process.

“Graceful.” You laughed, making him roll his eyes and throw you on the bed.

“Peter!” You squealed, glaring at him as you sat back up,

“What?” He jumped on the bed next to you, making you bounce slightly,

“I could have died!” You said, steadying yourself and slapping his hand away.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” He laughed, reaching for you again. But before he could you waved your hands together, a devilish look painted on your face. Peter glanced from you, to the snowball forming in your palms and back with panicked eyes as he comprehended what you were doing.

“Y/N wait, I- I didn’t mea-” Before he could finish, you threw the snowball at his face causing him to fall back dramatically. He hit the mattress with a huff, you to let out a fit of giggles as you looked at his snow-covered face.

“Y/NNN” He whined, dragging out the syllables,

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” You said mimicking him playfully. Peter groaned as he got back up.

“Very funny, point taken,” He rubbed at his cheek,

“Aww Pete, I’m sorry, do you want some help?” You asked sweetly, with a head tilt.

“Yes please,” He gave you sweet puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll put some ice on it,” You weren’t able to hold back your laugh as you fell back on the bed, rolling around at your own joke that wasn’t even that funny. Peter looked at you, unamused.

“Don’t you dare,” He warned,

“Don’t worry Pete, I won’t, but who knew the great Spider-Man can’t handle a bit of snow?” You teased.

"Hey you don't see me shooting webs at you," he countered,

You were about to go on with your one-sided jokes when Peters lips suddenly crashed onto yours. You were shocked at first but soon melted into the kiss. He pecked your lips before he pulled away, picking up a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers.

“That wasn’t exactly the response I was expecting for making fun of you, but ill take it” you smiled, lacing your fingers with his.

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I missed you so much.” He lent his forehead on yours and let out a contempt sigh.

“I missed you too, I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to be together,” You frowned.

“I know Snow-Pea, but its for your own safety, because I love you. One day we’ll be able to spend as much time as we want together, but for now, I’m just so grateful that I can be with you. If anything, it makes time spent together more precious. I’ve never met anyone like you Y/N, and that’s not just because of the Ice-powers, I don’t want to put what we have at risk.” Your heart swelled at his kind words, deciding to ignore his cheesy ice nickname.

“I look forward to that time Pete”

“So do I, you have no idea how much time I spend thinking of it.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow – signaling for him to elaborate.

“What do you think about?” Peter looked deep into your curious eyes and smiled to himself.

“Well,” He started as he lay down, propping his head up on the pillows. You settled yourself next to him, resting your head on his chest and winding your legs around his.

“I imagine the time when I can walk through the school holding onto your hand proudly, showing off the fact that you’re my girl.” Something about the way Peter said my girl made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“I dream of the times where, one day, I can hold you, and kiss you when ever we want to, instead of having to wait for days in a row. Where whenever I feel like it, I can yell ‘I love you Y/N L/N’ from the top of my lungs, and trust me, I want to do that a lot.” You laugh at that, tightening your grip around his torso.

“And I think of our future together… having kids?” He said hesitantly, studying your face to gauge your reaction. His heart leaped when he saw you smile hopefully, so he went on.

“I wonder what they would be like, I mean, would they have ice powers like their mum? I can just picture a mini you running around, freezing everything in sight and making snow angels every chance they get.” You laughed together in pure bliss, starting to tear up a bit at the fact that Peter thought about this, a lot.

He saw your glossy eyes and started to pepper your face in loving kisses. Times like this made him wish he could spend every minute of everyday with you like this; The only time he was truly happy, no homework, no Spider-Man duties, no stress, just you and him.

“I love you Peter, you have no idea,”

“Mmm, I think I might have a bit of an idea Snowflake,” He said fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and breathing in your apple and cinnamon shampoo.

“I love you too,”

BONUS PART:

“Pete?” May yelled from Peters bedroom.

“Yeah May?” he asked, taking out his earbuds and opening his door to see May changing his sheets.

“Why is there Ice all over your bed?” She asked, confusion lacing her voice. The boy’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning slightly pale.

“I uhmm, well… S-simple explanation really-”

Awww this was too cute!!!!

scripts thrown into the fire

peter parker x reader

summary: you and peter make a bet before spending seven minutes in a closet before new year hits, and he ends up telling you what he feels

word count: 3,117

warnings: another enemies to lovers, peter being a huge dick, mentions of gross alcohol, fluff and slight angst

a/n: nothing. i just really really liked this :)

MASTERLIST

༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ༻✧༺

“Fuck Peter Parker.”

MJ looked at you, eyes widening at your vulgarity. “Fuck him? Or… fuck him?”

You glared at her. “You know what I mean.”

She scoffed, lips turning into a frivolous smile. “Trust me, I don’t. You could mean – fuck Peter Parker, he’s a douchebag – or – I would like to fuck Peter Parker.”

You rubbed your temples, closing your eyes. You were already having a headache from the absolutely blinding lights, and MJ’s question made your head hurt even more. “Michelle, I hate him. I despise him.”

“Do you really hate him? Or do you just hate him because you’re afraid of how much you love him?”

With your jaw slacking the slightest, you scoffed in offense. “I don’t love him! And if I did, it wouldn’t be love, it would probably be infatuation.”

“So you admit it! You like him!”

“I said ‘if I did’,”

“Same thing.”

“No- no it isn’t!”

She’d caught you off guard. MJ smirked, placing the cup back between her lips.

You never liked Peter Parker. You didn’t know what it was that just ticked you off – that struck your nerves. Maybe it was because he did nothing but strut down the hallways with that smug look on his face knowing he was the smartest, or that he dated the hottest girls or that everyone appreciated who he was.

You didn’t know when you started hating him because you felt that way for years. But you knew why you hated him.

You hated him and that was it. Your new normal.

MJ disappeared, excused herself and got inside the bathroom beside her. You didn’t know what to do next, so your legs mindlessly brought you to the crowded kitchen, grabbing another slice of pizza.

“Is it just me or something smells rotten?”

His voice, like a deceitful man, rang around your ears. You felt like you were about to explode, the blood inside you boiling as he appeared beside you like a Devil in disguise. Rolling your eyes, you sucked your cheeks in before giving him a forced smile.

“Ah, so you are a dog. Smelling things from afar and whatnot.”

“Do you ever shower? Or is that just the grease from the kitchen I smell?”

“Did it ever occur to you that the grease you’re smelling is from your shirt?”

“What grease?”

Your fingers, previously holding your pizza, dragged itself on the side of his shirt. Peter yelped, eyes widening when you touched him. You smiled when you spotted the imprint of your fingers that he was now wiping with a towel. “Thanks for the tissue.”

Still rubbing the spot, he sneered at you. “You’re disgusting.”

“Learned from the best.”

“Who? The blonde senior you slept with? Or the guy with the mullet who sells beer at the store near campus?”

Your eyes widened, but not in offense (if you were being honest, you would be offended if it were MJ or any other friend, but it was kind of shocking when Peter said it). “How’d you know about that mullet guy?”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, taking a sip from the cup in his hand. “Honestly, don’t you have to look for something interesting to do?”

“Oh, like being Spider-Man is interesting?” You raised a brow, taking a bite from your pizza despite losing your appetite the second he came. “You’re a new type of stupid.”

His head tilted sideways, placing his elbow on the kitchen counter to look at you. Peter smiled, with a hint of nervosity, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He contemplated on saying that no, being Spider-Man is fun. But he remembered that he was still denying the truth to you, and he wasn’t about to prove you right. “For the last time, sweetheart, I’m not Spider-Man.”

You chewed on your pizza, looking at him. “You wanna bet?”

Peter continued to stare into your eyes, like it didn’t spend half of his life burning him alive. But he didn’t care – he liked the burn. He liked anything your eyes gave him, threw at him, said to him. If it meant getting your attention, he’d endure that imaginative fire scalding his skin.

“Sure,” he whispered, finger dragging along the skin of your neck, pushing the hair away. “If you have me saying a secret of mine by midnight, I’ll tell you the truth and everything that comes with it.”

You raised your eyebrow. “And if I don’t?”

He smiled. “I get to kiss you.”

Your mouth parted.

You wondered if the iceberg you created between the two of you had melted from the heat of the fire your eyes lit on his body; if it melted and created a puddle beneath you so you’d blunder in your thoughts.

Peter Parker wanted to kiss you.

No, he doesn’t. He’s a cocky bitch with an ego as big as his ears.

Peter Parker created a game in his masquerade; He was so foolishly cynical in himself that he’d end up unmasking in his own play. He knew that, and you might have known that too but at that moment you didn’t, because all you could think about was the brevity of your breath the second you imagined his lips on yours during your demise.

You wanted to back down, maybe even tell him he can go fuck himself. But you weren’t like that – you wanted to fight a war he’d most definitely lose in. So that he’d be the one looking up at you, calling you his queen, and you'd be lost in your own pious ataraxis.

It was a quintessentially monarchical thought, but why not.

“Deal.”

Literally just made a deal with the devil. Kind of fucking nervous.

You offered your hand for him to shake, but instead he placed his soft lips on the skin of your knuckles, remaining eye-contact. “Can’t wait to kiss you, pretty girl.”

Peter smirked when your small smile disappeared. You fought the urge to place both your hands on his face and slam his head on the counter, breaking his nose. Instead, you gathered up the courage to smile again, tilting your head.

“And I can’t wait to tell everyone that you’re Spider-Man,” maybe you were drunk, maybe you weren’t, but you didn’t mean that. You knew that if he were ever to tell you that he was Spider-Man, you wouldn’t tell anyone. But you enjoyed seeing him get anxious and feel the sweat in his hands knowing you caught him off guard.

You pat his cheek before walking away.

-

“Flash, I’m not your mom. Stop begging me for attention.”

Peter almost laughed when he heard you say that, but his eyes narrowed at your failed attempt to shove Flash’s arm off your shoulders. “That was mean,” Flash said, pouting. “Just join us, (y/n)!”

The drink in his hand was stagnant now. Peter grimaced at the bland taste, throwing the substance into the sink. But he didn’t know which grossed him more: his drink that he was sure had a hotdog thrown into before he took it, or that Flash was weirdly holding you in his arms, pulling you into the living room, and that you were letting him touch you like that.

“Dude,” Ned hissed in his ear for the third time, narrowing his eyes. “The longer you stare at them, the more you’re being obvious.”

Peter frowned, standing straighter. He wanted to be oblivious (“what do you mean obvious ?”) but he figured Ned would have just told him what he didn’t want to hear at the moment. “S-sorry.”

“C’mon man, just talk to her.” Ned pushed his shoulder. “There’s no harm in telling her the truth. Well, the Spider-Man one, maybe. But that you like her? What’s the worst that could come?”

“Rejection?”

“…right…”

He shook his head. He didn’t know why he made that bet in the first place. Peter was in the spur of the moment; he wasn’t thinking straight, and he blamed it on the alcohol. But who was he kidding? He wasn’t even at least half dunk.

He blamed it on you. Not because you probably knew that he was Spider-Man, but because you had the most exquisite and alluring eyes he’s ever seen that he felt like he had just gotten hypnotized into making the bet – a bet he knew he’d renounce his heart in.

Peter sometimes didn’t enjoy what your eyes did to him. Whether it was roasting him alive, or making him helpless in the knees; your eyes always made him anxious, and quite often, had him making stupid decisions. But he liked it when you looked at him, regardless of what your eyes currently signified.

He liked it so much that he couldn’t help but stare directly into your eyes that were glaring at him from across the room drunkenly. It tore his concentration away from Flash, who still stood beside you.

“Hey,” Ned nudged him. “They’re playing Seven Minutes in Heaven in the living room. Come on.”

He dragged his arm before Peter could protest. He sat opposite from you, cautiously eyeing the bottle in the middle of the carpet as people gathered around him.

11:52

Peter could feel his skin sweat from the watch wrapped around his wrist. Flash sat beside you, hand on the bottle.

“This game is for middle schoolers,” he heard you mutter underneath your breath. Flash frowned, fingers playing with the glass.

“Didn’t you suggest this?” he said softly, looking at you.

“What? No, Cindy suggested it.”

“Then why’d you agree with her?”

“Because – just spin the fucking bottle and let’s get this over with.”

He shrugged, followed by a wry chuckle as his wrist twisted and the bottle spun. Peter didn’t know why, but his senses heightened in anticipation, watching as the glass spun unevenly against the carpet.

When it slowed and landed on him, his eyes immediately darted to yours.

You weren’t looking at him.

“Parker!” Flash bellowed. “Get in the fucking closet!”

Peter’s eyes widened, moving backwards. “What? Why? I don’t want to go in there.”

He stood up nonetheless. Peter didn't know why, but he felt himself blush when Flash had grabbed your arm and hauled you up for you to stand, pushing you towards the closet.

“Hey, what the fuck?” you hissed, rubbing your shoulder as you glared at Flash. “I do not consent-”

“Blah blah,” he cut you off. “You suggested the game, you go in first.”

“But- Cindy suggested it!”

Cindy looked at Flash in faux-innocence, shrugging. “No, I didn’t. You did. Right, Flash?”

You gasped, tugging on your arm but no matter how much you tugged, Flash kept his grip on you. “Stop gaslighting me!”

Peter was roughly forced into the closet. He didn’t know why he let himself be pushed like that. He could have effortlessly opposed back, but maybe the idea of you being stuck with him in a small expanse made his body unexpectedly go limp and he decided not to fight back.

You fought back, however. Something about being stuck in a room with the person you loathed the most made you want to hurl, albeit it was a way for you to have an opportunity to win the bet. You knew you had him encased around your finger; you’ve seen the way he looks at you and you knew what your stare does to him. It made you feel emphatic, no doubt, and you knew you could easily make him fold but you just couldn’t stand being in a small room with him.

It had gotten to a point where Flash had to wrap his arms around you and carry you inside while Peter stood watching like a fucking idiot.

Flash closed the door, and neither of you heard the sound of the lock snapping.

You glared at Peter. It became a habit - glaring at him. And even though he enjoyed your murderous gaze, it almost always caught him off-guard. “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m honored,” he leaned closer, bending slightly so his eyes met yours directly, “to be fucking hated by you.”

11:53 was on Peter’s watch, signifying that you’ve only been with him for a minute. It felt ironic, really, that he was with you six minutes before New Year inside a closet - it felt ironic because you’re supposed to spend it with your family but instead here he was, in a closet with you.

He felt his chest compress when he recognised how tight both of you were. The tips of your shoes abutted, and he could feel the faint touch of your chest against his. You were both so close but Peter felt as if you were far away from him - incapable for him to touch; to sense.

Peter frowned when you shifted uncomfortably and pushed yourself off the wall, not even caring that your forehead now touched the fabric of his shirt. Your eyes warily darted on each corner of the room, and he could sense how your heart beat rose each look you took.

“Are you alright?” he asked genuinely. “Are you claustrophobic?”

You looked at him, the glare in your eyes softened the slightest as you leaned backward. “No. I’m Peter phobic.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s a made up word, dumbass.”

“All words are made up, dumbass ,” you mocked. “God, you’re such a fucking know-it-all.”

“And you’re so fucking infuriating!” he hissed, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “Why can’t you just be fucking nice even for seven-fucking-minutes?! Being mean to me the entire fucking time isn’t going to make time faster.”

Your eyes narrowed, jutting your chin upwards. “How can I not be mean if you’re being pretentious?”

Peter scoffed, arms flinging. “What do you mean pretentious ?!”

Despite the thickness of his shirt, it pricked his skin when your nail dug on his chest. “You act like you’re such an angel when in reality you’re a pretentious, purposely self-effacing person. Not to mention the fact that you’re annoyingly meretricious and I can’t see why people praise you for being a smartass without even them knowing who you really are,” you took a step closer. “I may sound like I’m jealous, or I’m a bitch, but I don’t care. You’re a liar, Peter Parker.”

Your remarks didn’t hurt, but the look on your face did - you looked like you were on the cusp of crying, seeming like you genuinely hated him for being himself. It appeared as if you hated him because he was selfless and he didn’t know why. “Why do you hate me for it, then?”

“Because I envy how you can be so selfless and I can’t,” you whispered. “We’ve gone through the same shit and somehow people praise you for being a better person than I am.”

11:55

He took a deep breath for your pause. “(y/n), did it ever occur to you that you don’t actually know me?”

“And did it ever occur to you that I know you’re an asshole?” you snapped. “I hate you because you were mean to me and I was the only person to actually see you for who you were. And yet I was still seen as the bad guy-”

“Just,” he put a hand over your mouth to shut you up, and you let him, your arms going up to tightly grasp his forearm. “Let me explain, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to nod your head nor shake it to respond to him. Peter slowly removed his hand over your mouth, settling them faintly against your waist. “I-I wasn’t nice to you because I was afraid.”

If it was possible, Peter could feel you relax but tense at the same time. “Afraid of what?” you whispered, your eyes darting from his right eye to his left. “Afraid of me?”

“What- no! I- I was afraid of how much I’d be attached to you.” he replied. “I was afraid because everyone that was important to me died and I didn’t want you to be one of them.”

“What do you mean…?”

“You’re an angel,” he whispered, the sides of his fingers lightly brushing the hair out of your face, lingering there for a bit. “You’re an angel and it’s hard not to fall for you. And I know that if I let you too much into my life, you’d end up hurt and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

11:57

Somehow, you ended up with your hands on his chest, blinking rapidly. “Half of my life, I spent it hating you.”

“Then hate me,” he grabbed your hand, kissing your palm. “Hate me for the rest of your life, and I’ll love you for the rest of mine.”

You looked up. A moratorium on your heart, you repeated his words in your head like a mantra-like a poetry you ought to remember. You were an indecisive person, stuck between hating and loving Peter Parker.

But hating him was easier - it was your own special way of loving him.

11:59

It was now 30 seconds before the new year and you spent the past minute staring into his deceitful eyes that scanned your lips repeatedly.

You could feel his heart beating against the palm of your hand. Something about it felt calming, feeling it beat simultaneously as yours. The benign rhythm proposed at the exceptional moment. They relied on each other to create the most exquisitely dynamic scenery one ought to bestow upon; the sound was inevitably pleasant to the ears that it felt like a composition of operatic music.

His heart beat relied on yours, so he could keep loving you for as long as he lived.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, leaning closer. Nose bumping yours and lips touching at the faintest.

“But I won,” you said with a small smile. Peter’s hand gripped the one on top of his heart, his other cupping your soft cheek. “You told me a secret.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Peter replied, tracing your jawline. “I want to kiss you for the rest of my life, and I want you to hate me for it.”

You nodded. “Oh, I’ll totally hate you for it.”

When Peter heard the clamorous sound of the fireworks demolishing outside, he felt the fireworks inside him ignite too as he placed his lips against yours in a swift motion, lips moving at each explosion. He told himself that it didn’t matter how much you hated him, or how much you wanted to physically hurt him. He’d keep loving you despite what you do to him.

You broke his heart a million times.

And still, he kissed you while the world fell.

༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ༻✧༺

Acceptance of your true power

What if I told you that everything you've ever been told was a lie, what if I told you that you have created every single thing you are experiencing, what if I told you that there is no such thing as fiction, what if I told you that you are the god of your reality, and that everything that you can ever desire exist within your you and what if I told you that your imagination is your true reality? Would you believe me? Would you accept this truth? Or would you still give outside sources the power? 

Your failure to accept the things I just said is the exact reason that you are not manifesting what you want. Your incapability of accepting your true power is the reason you do not have anything that you desire. You are giving your power away and not accepting your true godself. 

“Because of your belief in external things you think power into them by transferring the power that you are the external thing, realize you yourself are the power you have mistakenly given to outer conditions.” -Neville Goddard 

When you realize you yourself are the power source things can feel uneasy and you feel like you were in the wrong or you were saying something that is not true, but none of those things are the truth. You are the god of your reality!

Many people have struggled to accept that, I was one of them, but the way that I was able to truly accept my power is to finally surrender to my inner man. To finally surrender to my imagination and to accept myself within. When I accepted myself within I was able to truly understand that I am the all-powerful knowing creator of My reality. You can struggle to accept this if you have religious trauma or if you have been forced by society and by your family to accept that you are not the person that was in control and that you had to give power to outside sources, however what they have told you was nothing but a lie. 

Why do we fear who we are? Why do we restrict ourselves from fully accepting our power? The answer is easy: you are bound by your fear. You fear you're incapable of being free and being in control. Just like  @lotusmi said in her post Fearful Of Magnificence “we may feel incapable of freedom, of our salvation. We feel that fear and back we go into our own caves, to dwell in our caves of Desire still wishing for freedom.” You overcome the fear and these doubts and this incapability to accept your own power by surrendering to your own imagination. By learning to stop fearing yourself, to stop fearing your true power, to break free from that fear of knowing you are the god of your reality. For everything is your own wonderful creation; it was born from your own imagination.

You are the mother and your reality is the child you birthed. Neville always said "nothing to change but self",  so go within yourself and change those feelings of fear and go within your mind and finally say I am the creator, I am the one who creates, I am the god of my reality, anything I want I can have, I call the shots. Acceptance is all you need. Accept  that you are the creator! Accept that you yourself are the one who will give you whatever you desire!! Accept that you yourSELF are who creates.

If we learn to accept our power we will be able to accept that we created everything within our lives. Everything we experience truly came from our imagination from the family you have to what you are seeing on TV! Everything you have ever seen was created from your mind! We must be willing to actually accept that ourselves created everything that we experience. This can be the hardest form of acceptance but it will truly Empower you to create whatever you desire.

So go within your imagination, and finally accept you, your wonderful limitless power.

Damnnnn this was amazing!!

hey!! i love your writing sm💕 idk if you’re still taking requests or if you’re comfortable w a like platonic or father figure yandere. But how about yan! Steve Rogers where he kidnaps a teenage girl to be his daughter then shields her from the world to “protect” her kinda like rapunzel. if you don’t want to that’s no problem at all tho💕

Hi, sweetie! This is a very peculiar request, and I really, really like it! I guess I’ve made Steve a little softer than I expected, but here he is. Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

The one he cares about

Pairing: adoptive dad!Steve & Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (if you squint)

Warnings: yandere, obsession (non-romantic!), stalking, kidnapping, death of minor characters (but nothing too scary).

Words: 1870.

P.S. Just to clarify this is NOT an incest story, Steve does not harbor any romantic feelings for the reader, he loves her like a parent does.

__________________

Pacing up and down nervously like a caged tiger, Steve threw a glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, ready to take out his cellphone and give you a call. It was just 10 pm, but he felt something wasn't going quite right. Was everything ok at that party? Were you enjoying yourself? Did you finally confess to that silly guy Steve didn't like at all? What if he had already got you, Steve's precious little daughter, into bed?

Breathing in deeply, the man tried calming himself down. You were an adult. At one point you would start dating people, and it was perfectly alright, Sam reminded him the other day. You weren't some princess locked in a tower with Steve guarding you like an angry dragon. You had the right to love and be loved, create your own family, for God's sake. When he thought of you leaving him Steve was ready to break that kitchen wall.

No, no, no, it was alright. You loved him with all your heart, and no stupid guy could take it away from Steve. He was your father. Adoptive father, of course, but he did everything he could to make you trust and love him as much as you true family. You were calling him dad, after all. And even if you eventually married someone, Steve would always stay close to help and support you - and your kids, if you ever decide to have any. At the thought of him kissing the cheeks of his cute little grandchildren Steve had finally relaxed.

Oh, was it the sound of the front door opening? As much as he wanted to rush to meet you, the man quickly put on his apron he ironed this morning and turned to the heated stove to put a meat pie in it. Alright, alright, you were already home, it was perfect.

But why so early? Steve was really generous this time and gave you till 1 am - of course, if you took a taxi, not go walking the streets in the night. Did something go wrong? Did the guy reject you? Did he take advantage of you? Did he... do something he shouldn't have?

Steve felt his blood boiling. In a second he was ready to storm out of the kitchen to beat the shit out of that bastard who was stupid enough to hurt his child.

"Hi dad! I'm home!"

As you walked in, carrying your beaded clutch in your arms and yawning tiredly, Steve put a smile on his face momentarily, assessing whether you were hurt within a couple of seconds. No, apparently, you were alright: you moved just like before; your hair wasn't ruffled, and your makeup wasn't smeared eather. He had overreacted again.

"Welcome back, sweet pea." Steve moved closer to you, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead as you giggled softly, throwing your arms around his broad back. "How did it go?"

As your face turned gloomy for a fleeting second, he knew his sixth sense wasn't lying to him: something didn't go well.

"Nah." You brushed it off as you sat on the chair, carelessly leaving your clutch on the table and stretching your legs with a loud sigh.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Furrowing his brows, Steve sat across from you, his hands folded as he stared at you with worry. Shit, did this guy try doing something funny? Did he offend you? Oh, Steve was going to have a nice talk with him, a moron who thought he could do this to his little girl and it would never come back at him. Should he call Natasha? Maybe Bucky? He knew they were still in town. No, no, he would take this matter in his own hands and go have a nice talk with that stupid ungrateful ba-

"It's alright, I swear." You muttered and forced a smile, drawing his attention back to you. "He just... well, just didn't return my feelings."

"Did he reject you?"

For a second Steve felt both relieved and ready to go murder that kid in a cold blood. Rejected you? The prettiest and smartest girl in the town with a heart of gold? Who did that little shit think he was, rejecting Steve's precious daughter?

But it was better than him forcing you to do something you didn't want. At least that asshole didn't do anything inappropriate to you, probably too scared to face your angry dad who could crack his skull with one hand.

"Not like reject in the full sense of the word, but... um, I feel like he was a little scared of me." Your smile turned bitter, and you leaned onto Steve, pressing your forehead into his chest as you exhaled loudly.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time it happened. Everybody around knew you were the daughter of retired Captain America, and people were treating you with such caution as if you were some time bomb, clearly unwilling to make the world's first Avenger angry. Partly, it was a good thing since no one tried messing with you. However, you were also left pretty much alone, ignored by the majority for the sake of their own well-being. Although you had found several friends, dating someone was a completely different thing: guys were running away from before you even spoke to them.

"I'm so sorry." The man said quietly, rubbing your back and gently caressing your head with his other hand. "This is my fault."

You sighed, lifting your head and looking at Steve so tenderly he suddenly felt like he was the happiest man in the world. What, weren't you upset?

"Come on, dad." His heart sped up when you called him that, and he was ready to lift you up in the air, kissing his little girl's nose. "I thought he's different, but he's just a chicken like all other guys. I'll get over him soon."

"Hard to live up to our standards, I guess." Steve smiled and pinched your nose a little, making you laugh again. "But you need to know I am really sorry, sweat pea. I swear I wouldn't stand in your way if you decided he was the right guy for you."

Actually, Steve pretty much would, but you wouldn't know about it. Happiness of his only child was the only thing that mattered to him now: what was the point of being a parent if you couldn't make your kid happy?

"It's okay, really, dad. I wouldn't change the things as they are now. When I think what could happen if you didn't see me on the street that night... uh-huh." You didn't finish the sentence, not that you needed to.

If Steve didn't find you that night desperately searching for food on the streets of New York, you'd probably be dead now.

You were born to a good family, and you spent the first 11 years of your life in a nice place, having loving parents, the roof above your head and food on the table. You were just one more happy kid among thousands of others, neither better nor worse than all of them. It all changed when your parents were killed by two robbers who had broken into your house, and soon you ended up in an orphanage - you still had nightmares about this place. You spent a year there before you escaped, choosing the streets over an orphanage. Silly you, thinking it would be better.

When Steve found you, you were 13. Dirty, always hungry, acting like a little wild animal, you were no more pitiful than any other homeless child, ignored by the majority of people, but Steve saw you. He took you with him - forcefully, of course, because you fought him like a little angry cat, frightened to the core he was going to take advantage of you like all those people pretending to help you. But he didn’t. He was the one who had truly cared.

It took him months to get you accustomed to living in a house again with someone close to you. Steve spent even more time trying to make you trust him, make you believe he was your friend, somebody you could rely on, trust, see as a parental figure. You couldn’t even name all those people he hired to help you: countless psychologists and psychiatrists; doctors and nurses of all kinds; visiting teachers and tutors. Despite liking to live alone, Steve brought so many strangers to his house it felt like living in a royal palace with tons of court attendants. All of this was for you, the only person he cared about, his little child.

When you were 15, you started calling him dad, and that was the day neither Steve nor you would ever forget: he scooped you up and kept swinging you around till your head was spinning while he laughed and shouted how much he loved you, the best daughter he could ever had. 

You never knew the extent to which Steve cared about you, following you secretly when you finally agreed to leave the house - he needed to know you were safe and sound. Of course, he was always there when he supposed someone wasn’t treating you right, and he did everything he could to keep his only child happy. Unfortunately, you were lonely until Steve found a couple of good friends for you, but it was alright. You were perfectly okay now.

“I love you too, sweet pea.” He smiled, caressing your head gently. “But you know what? Don’t worry about that guy. I actually have someone who I want you to meet, and he’s a really sweet kid.”

“Whoa, what? What kid?”

“Well, you know. Kid from work.”

“Dad, what work? What kid?” You rolled your eyes at him, giggling. “How old is he, at least?”

“A little older than you, but he’s alright. He’s been wanting to meet you for some time.” But before Steve wasn’t sure kid was the right guy for you, considering that he was still very much an Avenger and was involved in all kinds of dangerous situations. 

“Dad, what kid? Are you talking about your superhero colleagues or something?” 

“... yeah? I promise, you’ll like him. Peter’s a good kid.”

“Peter? Peter goddamn Parker?!” You exclaimed loudly, realizing he was talking about Spider-Man. “Are you joking?!”

“What did I tell you about swearing, sweetheart?” Furrowing his brows, Steve shook his head in disapproval, but laughed in the very next second, watching your guilty expression. “Alright, alright. I’m not joking. If you’d like to meet him, I’ll ask him to come tomorrow for dinner, ok?”

“Yes, please!”

As he took the pie out of the oven with you waiting at the dinner table, Steve thought about giving the kid a big lecture about what he was and wasn’t supposed to do to you, but he was more or less sure Peter knew what was right and wrong. Steve could spot that familiar glint in kid’s eyes when he was looking at your photo that Steve had been showing him proudly. 

It would turn out alright. Your father was ready to do anything it takes to make you happy.

___________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @iheartsebastianstan @lovelydarkdaydream @sarge-barnes-sir

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It's "rebound" by @peterparkouryo !!!!

Does anyone hace the name of a fanfic about peter parker dating reader but then he confesses he is in love with MJ and breaks up with reader on her birthday

This was soooo cute 🥰

9.45pm - Peter Parker

summary ↠ you work the closing shift at a bakery and Spider-Man makes a habit of appearing at 9.45pm to walk you home. 

word count ↠ 3.7k

warnings ↠ a lil bit of angst/hurt and comfort. minor descriptions of injury. a bit of swearing, but this is mostly fluff.

a/n ↠ I really loved writing this one. I felt so happy the whole time and ! I am very excited for people to read it, so I hope you enjoy it :)) I’ve also recently redone my taglist, so if you’re interested in that, it should be linked at the bottom of the post. feedback always appreciated!

THE BAKERY YOU WORK AT is one of New York’s hidden gems. Tucked away beneath a level of luxurious townhouses, the small space is covered in vintage artwork, bright leafy plants, and warm exposed lightbulbs that cast a web of kaleidoscopic light across the space. Your regulars love the way it’s their secret, love the way it’s as if they’re walking into their own secret hiding space every time they creep down the green metal staircase and walk in through the jangling door, and you love the way it’s like a little community revolves around the place. The air is always alight with the scent of fresh pastries and sound of relaxed laughs, and there really isn’t anywhere else you’d rather escape to after school.

You always work the closing shift on weekdays, slipping down into the shop at 5pm and locking up at 10pm. It’s always the quietest hours for the bakery - the best loaves of bread and the most perfectly iced cupcakes are always snatched up by commuters in the morning, so the only groups of people who wander into the bakery when you’re there are those on the lookout for discounted baked goods. It’s always relaxed, and as the hours creep by, more than often you find yourself being paid to sit behind the counter and read a book than actually deal with any customers, so it’s a winning combination all around.

Your job at the bakery is normal and unassuming. That is, until the night Spider-Man stumbles into your shop.

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