Okay So You're Probably Going To Hate This, But I Think About It Constantly. Peter With Spider Habits.

Okay so you're probably going to hate this, but I think about it constantly. Peter with spider habits. If there's a fly or mosquito, he will snatch it out of mid air and squash it with no thoughts at all. It's basically a reflex. He's now allergic to peppermint and garlic which sucks because garlic bread is the best and he cried for like three hours after finding out. He hangs out in corners all the time. Corner of the ceiling, corner of the floor? Doesn't matter, Peter is there just chilling.

“...Oh and also bug spray, but I didn't have enough characters for that in my last ask, he can't wear bug spray.”

NOOO NOT THE GARLIC D:

•  I think spider habits are absolutely inherited after the bite. Maybe not allergies, though, since his abilities and recovery speed are INSANE. Like, maybe he’s allergic to mint or smth, but he INSTANTLY recovers. Those allergies are like... spicy food to him. It burns for a minute or two, but then he gets over it and keeps eating. 

Peter: *stuffing his face with garlic bread*

Tony: Aren’t you, like... allergic?

Peter, mouth full: Yeah! I can’t feel my face!! Now pass me that mint ice cream!!

Tony: 

*nervously passes him the ice cream*

•  And sitting in corners??? Bet he already did that. Not on the ceiling, obviously, but corners are nice places to sit, even if you’re not a spider. 

•  The grabbing bugs mid-air idea is so funny. Like, imagine thoughtlessly snatching a fly out of the air, then you just cringe because GROSS NOW YOU HAVE BUG GUTS ON YOUR HAND?!?!?! No thanks. Honestly, he would probably use a web-shooter to snatch them. Then, yEET. He throws it out the nearest window. 

•  Bug spray is tough. He can get along fine while banned from wearing it, since he reflexively kills/catches bugs anyway, but he also can’t be near people who DO wear it. It SUCKS. Like, when he goes camping with the Stark family or something, he just... dies. 

Tony: Morgan, c’mere! I need to spray you with bug spray!! 

Peter, screaming from across the campsite: 

•  Between bizarre allergies and a keenness for catching bugs, I have NO idea how his classmates wouldn’t notice this kinda shit. Guess they just think he’s THAT kid, so they’re like

This is my new favorite phrase. Where I live there’s currently sustained winds of over 45mph and gusts that have been clocked at 68mph. My job requires that I be out in the wind pretty much all day and I can relate to that beautiful fox on a spiritual level. I will also absolutely throw down with ANYONE who gets between me and my chocolate at the end of the day.

So I’ve seen the ADHDers CANNOT sit properly in a chair for more than a second thing and while a totally agree, you’ve missed another huge aspect.

Not using an “actual chair”

I sit on the floor (especially in corners and between furniture because it’s just comfy) more than I’ve ever sat in a chair when I have the option. My family is always giving me side eyes about it and I gave up trying to explain because I don’t understand it either.

Also, a mountain of blankets is THE most comfy thing ever. Give me a big nest of blankets to snuggle down into any day. Combined with a weighted blanket it’s just pure bliss.

There are true gentlemen left in the work after all 🥲

me, reaching into my dresser drawer for black pants: I hope this isn’t the pair with big holes worn in the inner thighs

Marie Kondo, gently over my shoulder: why is a pair of pants you find unwearable still in your dresser drawer

me: oh shit that’s right!! The dresser is for clothes that under some circumstance I might conceivably wear!!

Marie Kondo, beaming proudly: Yes, that’s correct!! These pants must have been your favorites. How wonderful that they were so comfortable and practical that you wore them out. But now since they no longer function as pants, you should move them from the drawer where you keep your functioning pants!

me: Yes thanks I got it they’re in the fabric basket now

Marie Kondo, fading back into the darkness: I love what you’ve done with the kitchen!!

I have not been able to stop thinking about this fic since the first time I read it. It’s soooo good!!! I’ve reread it like five times now it’s easily among my top ten of all the fanfics and all the fandoms I’ve read

Loyalty (Part One - Soulmate!Loki)

Pairing: Loki x Reader, Soulmates AU

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none for this one, but there will be some on part two 

Summary: Soulmates were a gift to Asgard from the goddess Frigga, and her greatest gift was for her son Loki.

Notes: This will be a 3-Part mini series. Part 2 will be significantly longer than Part 1. Both parts of this story will be posted on justfandomwritings on Tumblr and AO3 as Reader Inserts. Both parts will also be posted on justfandomwritings on Fanfiction.net with minor rewrites to create an Original Character, if Reader Inserts aren’t your thing. Whether you read this one or that one, let me know what you think of Part 1. I’m getting to work on Part 2 this week. But don’t know when it’ll be up. Credit to @this-issam and @everythngiwant for their assistance.

Soulmates had been around for nearly as long as Asgard itself. They were a blessing, bestowed upon the people by the goddess Frigga.

Asgard was not always a kind place. Even in times of peace, the people knew only a warrior’s culture. The armory and the colosseum were sacred space; they saw their equal only in the crypts or Yggdrasil. Daughters were prided for nothing but their ability to breed strong warriors. Sons were trained to fight from the day they learned to walk. Every man worth his keep knew how to wield a sword and carried one at all times, even around the city, and being placed amongst the palace guard was the highest honor that Asgard could offer. Men were judged on strength and physical prowess rather than their hearts or minds. Even royalty, even the gods of the palace, were affected. They were firm in their anger and quick to wrath. The Nine Realms were ruled by Asgard, but they were ruled only through fear.

Frigga wanted none of it. Odin’s benevolent wife sought to make Asgard a better place for all, rich and poor, royal and peasant. She was tired of watching the elite order the lesser to go die for an unworthy cause. She was tired of watching wealthy captains ride back into Asgard claiming victory when every poor soldier under their command had fallen to the sword. She was tired of seeing Asgardians with eternity laid out before them with no purpose to their time except bloodshed.

She wanted women to be valued for all they had to offer, not just the men they could create. She wanted men to think before they spoke, listen before they acted. She wanted the people to find their own worth, carve their own path, make their own way; she wanted wisdom and love to be as important as courage and power. She wanted peace, a true peace, not one made tense by the threat of a sword at the neck of the other realms; and she knew only one way she could help see her dream come to reality.

As the wife of the king, she had always laid claim to the territories of marriage and fertility, the ideal wife and mother for her family and for all of Asgard.

“Love,” Frigga used to say, “is easy. Marriage is far more difficult.” Love was a deep emotion but one she maintained almost any combination of two people could feel for one another given the right timing, experience, and circumstance. Marriage was something infinitely more complex, harder to achieve, and almost impossible to perfect.

Every Asgardian eventually underwent the ceremony of marriage, if for nothing more than appearances and the hope of gaining the queen’s favor. However, it never ended well. Marriages were made not by matching two people who shared a love capable of withstanding the tests of time but by matching two beings in a mutually beneficial class standing.

If Asgardians shared the lifespan of Midgard the results would not have been worthy of note; marital bliss in Asgard, even in the most unhappy of pairings, often lasted a century or two, enough to last a lifetime in the realm of mortal men. Instead, those Asgardians who did not go to war, or at least those who survived the war, lived to be well past ten thousand years before death would claim them naturally: one lifetime of bliss followed by ninety-nine of pain and anger. By their fifth century, marriage was just a formality of title for most: something acknowledged for propriety at the palace but rarely upheld in the streets, much less in the bed.

Continua a leggere