[ ♛ ] send me a url and i'll tell you the following;

my opinion on;

character in general: Honestly for the longest time I fucking hated Peter Parker because the only experiences I had had with spider-man was either obnoxious fan boys who think girls can’t like comics, or the few appearances he had on the Avengers Assemble tv show which is beautiful aside from those just saying, but all I knew was he was an angsty teenage boy and I had enough of those in my life. Anyway so for the longest time I hates Spider-man and I finally watched the Original and I was like.... m e h not a huge fan. civil war came out and I was like “alright he’s not terrible he’s just like really young and shouldn’t be dragged into this” and then I followed rips, and now I love Peter Parker, I love that he’s awkward and fumbling and honestly just like a cutie. I love.how they play them: Literally the reason I love Peter Parker. Rips has opened my eyes to this whole new world, forcing me to watch the Andrew Garfield movies and making me realize that I don’t hate him. Rips has this perfect balance of awkward and intelligent and overly caring but not really able to always deliver the way he intends and the jokester and the kid that had a breakdown when he thought Gwen was leaving him and honestly Rips just has it. Like. He’s incredible. He’s managed to make this character his own, while also keeping him perfectly in character and I am absolutely amazed every day.the mun: I’m gonna be completely honest here and say that Rips is probably my best friend. I think it’s hard to find people online that you click with, to find people that don’t clash with your opinions, or to find someone who’s not bothered by the things you scream about. It’s so hard to find people who you genuinely enjoy all of the time and rips is one of few who I can literally talk to all day, all night, and the first thing I want to do in the morning is talk to him again. I’ve spent hours and hours and hours on voice chat just talking about life, talking about muses, talking about shows and movies and verses and just everything and I just really really love Rips. Another one of those people who have kept me alive, kept me from wanting to delete my blog, and it’s honestly so crazy to me that we’ve only known each other for a pretty short amount of time because I feel like it’s been forever. 

do i;

follow them: alwaysrp with them: yeah but I’m slow and I’m sorry rips I love youwant to rp with them: alwaysship their character with mine: they’re precious

what is my;

❝I heard that you don’t like guns.❞  Michonne wasn’t judging him for that,  nor for his reluctance to kill if that’s what it was.  Since he wanted to help,  he was against The Saviors and that was all that mattered.  ❝I heard you’re good at climbing trees though.  You think you could help me up a tree to be a sniper?  We’re not planning on pulling the trigger unless something goes terribly wrong.  It’s for precaution.  But  . . .  we are going to scare some people.❞

When he explained himself, Rosetta calmed down and smiled a little at his profession. “Yeah, I’m fine. I always take this alleyway as a shortcut home. You’re a photographer? I used to dabble in photographer before I broke the only camera I owned and my father refused to buy another.” 

Tony always thought it would be a bullet and an inability to comprehend self-preservation that would take Peter down. Maybe someone would aim a gun at Tony in public, or they’d grab Peter instead of him in a botched attempt at a kidnapping.

Maybe Peter would do something stupid like jump in front of the suit at the wrong moment or Tony would take a header and Peter would try to grab him before it was too late.

Maybe a puppy would cross the road in front of a truck - Tony didn’t know. What he did know, was that he wasn’t supposed to die at twenty-four, skin pale and eyes sunken in a hospital bed.

The hospital bed he’d spent weeks in, withering away in pain while he smiled at Tony and tried to cheer him up. While doctors pumped chemicals into him to get his body to fight itself - while he wretched into kidney basins, hooked up to machines to measure his pulse and his Oxygen intake.

Peter wasn’t supposed to bruise as easily as he did. Tony gave him a pat on the back and the next day, Tony’s hand was there, clear as day. Peter wasn’t supposed to get nose bleeds on a daily basis, or lay awake in pain at night, unaware that Tony could hear him.

Peter wasn’t supposed to collapse over breakfast, blood dripping from his nose into his cereal. Peter wasn’t supposed to be unconscious as doctors ran tests and checked levels and Tony waited.

Tony never left Peter’s bedside. Doctors and nurses tried to kick him out, but Tony wouldn’t budge. He slept in the same uncomfortable armchair, wore the same rumpled clothes, and ate the same crappy hospital food day in and day out.

Peter shivered - he was almost constantly cold now. Tony slid onto the bed behind him, carefully curling into him as Peter clung to whatever warmth he could leech from Tony. Peter cried and Tony kissed his head and told him not to worry because everything would be fine but Peter?

Peter knew.

He’d woken up that morning with a gasp, reaching for Tony blindly in the dark. The rings around his eyes were more pronounced and how had Tony not noticed until it was too late? How had he not seen something was horribly wrong? How had it reached such a point where Peter was clinging to his hand, eyes wide and scared and all Tony could do was brush his hair back from his forehead and try to soothe him.

“Tony, I don’t want to die.”

“Peter, listen to me, you’re not gonna die. You’re gonna keep fighting just like you do with everything else because you are a pain in my ass and you aren’t allowed, understand?”

“Okay, Tony. Okay.”

Tony lied. With Peter clinging to his hand, begging for life and crying out what little he could given his permanent state of dehydration, Tony lied. And as Peter struggled to breathe and fought the inevitable, Tony leaned over and whispered in Peter’s ear.

He told Peter it was okay to let go. He told Peter how proud of him he was, how much he and the team loved him. He told Peter how happy Ben would be to see him and how happy Tony would be one day that he was there, waiting.

Tony didn’t mention that he’d known it was coming. He didn’t mention that he’d looked up survival rates or that he’d already gone through the five stages. He didn’t mention the denial because Peter wasn’t allowed, or the anger because Peter was so good, so much better than Tony and the world needed him.

He didn’t mention bargaining with a God he didn’t believe existed, asking for favors he hadn’t earned with reparations he couldn’t afford. The depression was pervasive and evident in the full beard on his face, the sleepless rings under his eyes, and the fifteen pounds he’d lost. 

Acceptance? That came when he realized Peter couldn’t do it anymore. His body couldn’t handle it anymore. He was in so much pain and Tony? Well, Tony was being selfish, trying to get him to hang on when there was nothing left to be done. 

Tony didn’t mention that the hole Peter left in his life was too big to be filled and as Peter slipped away, with Tony reassuring him, he realized he didn’t have to.

closed thread for @skylinesentinel because they liked my starter call

MJ groaned and rolled his head downwards. He had been trying to read the same page over and over again for the last twenty minutes and none of the information was sticking inside of his mind. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips and squeezed his eyes shut. Focus, MJ, focus! With a deep breath in, MJ opened his eyes and took in the atmosphere of the NYU library. There were a few other students dotted around the place, including this incredibly cute guy who was sat on the same table as him. Suddenly MJ was able to focus, not on his lines for his theatre class, but he chose not to worry about that right now.