Watching Heartstopper Again And I Cant Help But Look For All The Yellow And Blue Combos In The Props,

Watching heartstopper again and I cant help but look for all the yellow and blue combos in the props, costumes, and lighting. It makes my heart happy and im about to make this series my entire personality watch out 💛💙.

(Gifs not mine!!! All credit to owners💛💛)

This makes my heart so happy and tingly💕 im sure you'll run into him again!!!

can i spill tea?

im bored as HELL so i'll sue you if you DON'T SPILL TEA.

:(

till deactivation do us part

hi! I loved your drabble with reader stroking Peter's hair, and was wondering if you'd do one where maybe reader touches him or kisses his cheek for the first time and he's dying on the inside from how cute he finds her? or something loosely similar? whatever you think is right! thank you ⚘🖤

this is so adorable and i took this very literally i hope you don't mind<333

Peter nearly got hit by a car.

Categorically, it was not his fault.

As far as first dates went, this was exceeding whatever expectations either of you had. Peter couldn’t even believe you said yes. You sat 2 rows in front of him in the lecture hall, but you both kept bumping into each other all over campus. The two of you had begun to walk into your lectures together.

It soon became an unspoken exchange, a non-verbalised contract of sorts. You hold the door open for him when entering and in return he’d flash you a smile. Upon your exit, Peter would jump up to get the door for you. He was always grinning like a fool as you walked past him, shaking your head and stifling a smirk.

It continued like this, short friendly conversations in between doorways turned quickly into tentatively inviting each other to study sessions with suspiciously lingering glances at the other. 

You had been pulling an all-nighter by yourself for the third night this week in the mostly empty library when Peter barged in, apologies falling from his lips at the disruption he caused when he slammed the door open. You looked up, startled when he was already standing at the edge of your table. 

“Hey! Hi. Do y- would you by any chance want to… there’s this new place, like, maybe 3 blocks from here? I’m pretty sure they opened 2 weeks ago. If you’d like?”

You stared blankly at him and he thought you’d be well within your rights to just walk off and never speak to him again. Of the several people who had been throwing dirty looks at him since he burst in, a handful looked up again with mild curiosity.

Neither of you noticed.

Peter nibbled his bottom lip nervously, trying to think how he could make an exit without drawing more attention and further humiliating himself and you by association. But then your face split into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“Yeah I’d really like that Peter.”

He lit up like someone set him aflame from the inside out.

The look remained on his face through the entirety of the date. If burning cosmos were being seared into his retinas, then you were the supernova he couldn’t tear himself away from. Honey brown eyes caramelising the longer Peter spent basking in your presence. You were watching a maillard reaction take place in the depths of his eyes in real time.

Words flowed effortlessly from the both of you, never once was there that awkward lag where neither party had nothing to add. It helped that there was already a budding friendship of course, but that was no guarantee.

Half way through, you found yourselves debating over whether your biochem professor was or wasn’t dating another member of faculty. In your opinion, the evidence strongly suggested they’d been seeing each other for at least a month. Peter, silly boy that he was, didn’t seem to think they had any chemistry or even spoke to each other for that matter and took it upon himself to express this vehemently.

Over dessert, a cheesecake with raspberry sauce and a singular mint leaf stuck in a scoop of vanilla-flecked ice cream that you shared, you planned out the speaking points of a presentation you had to give in 2 weeks. Your hands bumped into each other’s as you carved out craters of the quickly disappearing cheesecake.

Peter was gushing internally at the minimal contact, your skin brushing over his hand was almost mythical. He was sorely tempted to check his pulse because is this what heart palpitations feel like? The butterflies in his stomach had migrated upwards. Deciding to take up residence in his ventricles instead, their fluttering wings were forcing the blood to pump out faster than his body could handle. A roseate blush blossoming on his cheeks with every passing second.

Peter took care of the bill, thoroughly ignoring your pleas to “please let me cover half Peter! We both shared dessert, come on!” as he smiled fiendishly. You shook your head in exasperation and walked out with him. 

This is where it all went horribly wrong.

You were saying your goodbyes when you impulsively decided to reach up and press a kiss to Peter’s unsuspecting cheek. You pressed your lips together to smother the laughter bubbling up at the starstruck expression on Peter’s face when you pulled away. You hurried away, giggling and waving over your shoulder at him, still standing dazed in the middle of the sidewalk.

It took a full minute for him to remember how to use his legs. Peter walked to the crossing, entranced by the feeling of your lips on his cheek he stared straight ahead, not really seeing anything as he carried on. 

He didn’t even register the horn before a car came to a screeching halt 2 inches away from him as he stepped safely onto the sidewalk on the other side of the road. His senses had been dulled so effectively, Spider-man almost went down in history as having been flattened by a car after a pretty girl kissed his cheek. 

So, yes, almost getting hit by a car wasn’t his fault.

It was yours. 

You, and the way your hair smelled and the way you smiled with your whole face and the way you looked at Peter with stars in your eyes. And the way he would do anything to count the constellations in the flecks of your irises for as long as you’d allow him to.

“very few people asked, but this is my favourite moment in the Heartstopper show. the look between them - this is the moment Nick realises that he is safe with Charlie. and allows himself to be truly vulnerable in front of him.”

alice oseman via twitter

The weight of the world // peter parker

peter parker x female!reader

summary: on hard nights saving the city, the only place Peter wants to be is in his best friend’s arms.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: blood/injuries (y/n tends to peter's wounds)

a/n: this fic is purposely written with minimal context so you can choose to insert the peter parker of your choice :) (although this fic is definitely inspired by the scene in gwen's room in tasm teehee) (also its been a WHILE since I've written anything im so scared so lmk what you think! okie bye)

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Faint tapping echoed off the glass of your bedroom window, grabbing your attention from stirring, anxious thoughts that often clouded your mind on nights like this. It was dark outside, it had been for hours at that point. You’d lived in Queens your entire life, and while the constant loud sounds that you’d grown accustomed to living in the city didn’t keep you up anymore, you had an entirely other reason to lie awake at night.

Your head whipped around at the light tapping, eyes immediately finding the injured hero perched outside your window. You inhaled sharply as your feet hurriedly carried you out of your bed and to the closed glass. You quickly unlocked it, sliding it upward and offering your hand to help him in. 

“Peter,” You gasped as his hand took yours, a mix of sweat and blood brushing off on your skin, “What the hell happened?” It was a question you found yourself asking a lot, particularly to your not-so-careful crime fighting best friend. 

“S’fine… just a scratch” He grunted, gripping his side where a deep, red stain was growing, “Or two.” 

You huffed as he slid down your wall and collapsed against your floor, and while your mind was running ramped as you took in his condition, Peter finally relaxed as the familiar comfort of your room flooded his senses. If you’d been looking at his face and not his wounds, you would’ve caught the hint of a grin that graced his lips as he exhaled. 

It had become a routine for the two of you at this point. Once you figured out his secret identity, you became the first person he came to after a rough night. It scared the hell out of you each time he came through your window, never knowing how intense his injuries may be. And no matter how many times you argued with him, he still prefered you and a first aid kit over the hospital. 

He reached up to pull his mask from his face, immediately regretting his actions as he caught the horror in your eyes at his battered up face. His soft smile fell, guilt growing in his chest as he watched you swallow back tears. 

You stood up before he could reach for your hand, and watched as you disappeared into your bathroom, listening to the sounds of you shuffling through the cabinet before returning a moment later with the first aid kit. As you sat down before him, he stayed still, worried if he moved so much as an inch you’d break into tears. He wasn’t even aware of the pain of his injuries anymore, just seeing you seemed to numb all the bad things he’s ever felt. 

You cleared your throat as you rustled through the supplies, pulling out a few gauzes, rubbing alcohol and a generic ointment to seal his wounds. You dipped the end of a q-tip in the rubbing alcohol for the scars on his face, looking back up at him you bit your lip to contain the tears that threatened to follow. 

He reached out to take the q-tip from your hands, stopping as you pulled your hand away and eyed him with a face that he knew better than to argue with. He dropped his hand and instead rested it on your knee, desperate to make some sort of contact with you. 

With a soft sigh that released somewhat of the anxious pressure in your chest, you lightly dabbed the alcohol onto his scars, cleaning away the dried blood that had dripped from his temple down to his cheeks. He winced at the burning, causing you to pause abruptly, pursing your lips apologetically before continuing. 

You continued to clean his lighter wounds in silence. It hurt too much to speak, and you hated crying, hated how difficult it was to close those floodgates once they opened. In your mind, it made you stronger to keep it together, despite the fact that Peter was the one person you never had to convince otherwise. He knew how hard it was for you, so he stayed silent, communicating only through the soft taps of his fingers on your knee, letting you know he appreciated everything you were doing for him. 

Once you’d finished cleaning his wounds, you placed a steri-strip over the gash on his temple, and began to assess his other injuries. You inhaled sharply as your eyes found his side again, his free hand still clutching his ribs. 

You swallowed thickly, not daring to connect your eyes to his, “Take your suit off.” 

Peter stayed still, too busy searching your face with guilt to actually hear what you said. The look on your face when you saw him in pain hurt more than any injury he would ever encounter. His lips parted, but no words came out, his mind running wild with too many things to say and yet none of them felt right. 

“Y/N.” He started, softly. 

Immediately you stirred, shifting your knee out from underneath his hand as you felt the tears well up again at the mere sound of his quiet voice whispering your name. 

“I have to clean your wounds, Peter, take it off.” You repeated, more sternly this time. 

“Just, just - hold on,” He began, cutting himself short as you exhaled a sigh and reached forward to take his suit off yourself, “Hey, hey,” he spoke softly, attempting to gain your attention as he grabbed your wrists gently to keep you from ignoring him. 

“Peter,” You protested, “Just let me–”

“Stop,” He talked over you, deferring your attempts to undress him and keep ignoring his words, “What’s the matter?” 

“Just let me take care of you.” You huffed loudly, frustratingly dropping your hands in defeat. And as the words left your lips, the tears left your eyes. “Damn it.” You muttered as the tears poured down your cheeks. 

Peter sat up straight as you crumbled before him, his eyes frantically searching your face as you curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your face in them. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest and holding you securely. He rested his chin atop your head, brushing his fingers softly along your arm in an attempt to soothe you. 

You cried into his chest, tears soaking his suit along with the dirt, sweat and blood from his night out saving the city. He rocked you gently until your streams of tears turned into mere drops, and your heavy breathing slowed as it matched his. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled the smell of your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body as you clutched him tightly. 

Once you felt like you were all out of tears, you attempted to pull away from his embrace in order to continue patching him up. But as you moved to sit up, Peter’s arms remained wrapped around your figure. You felt him hesitate to let you go, he wished the two of you could stay like that forever. 

“Peter.” You mumbled. He didn’t respond, instead tightening his hold around you, “Peter.” You repeated. Again, he ignored you. You pushed against him, quickly realizing his strength as he barely budged, and finally giggled aloud to yourself as you relaxed against him in defeat. 

Peter chuckled at the sound of your quiet laugh, and finally released his hold around you. When you sat up, Peter’s hand rose to brush the tear soaked strands of hair from the front of your face, tucking them securely behind your ear while his fingertips lingered on your jawline. His eyes flitted between yours, a small grin appearing at the corner of his lips as your tears dried. 

“Would you take the suit off now?” You sighed softly, his actions successfully lowering your walls of anxiety and calming your senses. 

Peter rolled his eyes playfully, before unzipping the back of his suit and slowly peeling it off. He hissed as the suit rubbed the gash on his side. You bit your lip, wincing to yourself at the sight of his pain. Finally, with his suit pushed down to his waist, he relaxed and allowed you to assess his wound. 

You began treating the gash like you had with the scrapes on his face, applying alcohol to cleanse it, pausing with an apologetic, tight lipped grin every time he winced or shifted in pain. After a few minutes, his eyes shifted closed as his breath finally returned to a normal pace. You thought he had fallen asleep until he muttered softly as you bandaged his side. 

“Thank you,” His eyes stayed closed, “For always patching me up.”

You smiled to yourself, he thanked you every time and you always replied the same, “Someone has to do it.” Just like always, he laughed, shaking his head fondly at you when you weren’t looking. 

He sat up and opened his eyes just as you reached out to hand him a few painkillers. Peter shook his head and shifted forward as if to stand up. 

“I’m okay. I should probably get going.” 

You nodded softly, “Oh I see, use me for my expertise and leave me hanging.” 

Peter chuckled and rolled his eyes, “You know I’d stay all night if I could.” 

It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, it wasn’t odd for the two of you to spend so much time together. But the time you did spend with him left you wanting more. Peter comforted you in a way no one else could. He knew you, deeply and truthfully, and with him it was as easy as breathing. He wasn’t only your best friend, and your feelings for him grew with every moment you spent together until they were no longer deniable affections but a persistent longing to have him in your life forever. 

“You could though… stay.” You spoke up. 

Peter paused as your words sunk in. His eyes met yours with the smallest glint of anticipation and a longing stare. 

“Do you want me to stay?” His voice was quiet, with the smallest hint of curiosity as if he were surprised you’d ask him, as if you thought he would say anything but yes to spending more time with you. 

Your lips parted as you began to speak but you paused, nervously fiddling with your fingers before finally speaking, “I don’t want you to leave.” 

Peter laughed, the sound causing your eyes to raise and meet his, a smile forming on your lips at the sight of him before breaking into your own laughter as well. For two people so intertwined, so connected and seen, watching the two of you navigate new feelings for one another was like watching a baby learn how to stand for the first time. 

“Stay.” You repeated as your laughter died, “I want you to stay.” 

He’d stay with you forever if you asked him to, actually he would probably do anything you asked him to. Peter reached out to take your hand, releasing your fingers from the mindless, nervous fiddling he caught you doing often. His finger slotted between your own, the warmth from his hand sending a pulse up your arm as if you’d been shocked. 

His free hand traced over the bandage on his side, as silly as it was, he cherished the nights he slipped in through your window with blood and sweat caked into his suit and bruises covering his body, because he knew once he was with you the pain no longer mattered. 

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled, smiling to himself. 

You snickered, “Probably find some other beautiful, smart, talented girl to patch you up.”

Peter rolled his eyes, squeezing your hand as a laugh left his lips, “Of course not. You’re the only beautiful, smart, talented girl I need.” 

And although his words had your heart in a frenzy and longing to be joined with his, you shook your head with a playful eye roll and moved to pull your hand away from his. But Peter stopped you, chasing your fingers the moment he lost contact with them. 

“I mean it.” He stated, confidently and sincerely. 

Your brows softened as you looked up at him, eyes searching his face for any indication of humor, or some glimpse of platonic feelings. But you found none, his heart was on his sleeve as he longingly looked back at you. Soft eyes holding your gaze in a stare he wouldn’t dare break. 

His free hand rose to cup your face softly, pulling a short gasp from your lips. His breath fanned over your face as he moved closer. His eyes stayed on yours while you couldn’t help but glance at his lips. And as if the world were moving in slow motion, you felt his lips brush softly over yours. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, the feeling of his soft lips overwhelming your senses. Longing to feel more, you boldly closed the gap between the two of you, raising your hands to cup his cheeks as you pulled him closer to you. 

Peter sighed against your lips, willingly following your lead and pressed his lips further against yours. His free hand found your waist and tugged you towards him, locking you in as he dipped his head to kiss you harder. You inhaled, your mind going fuzzy with his scent and the feeling of his hands on your body. 

You had spent countless moments thinking about what it would be like to kiss Peter, when your mind traveled deep into your desires against your will that often left you feeling wrong for thinking about your best friend that way. You thought about how soft his lips would be, only now knowing how they truly felt as they dragged along your own in a rhythmic manner, following your lead, making your head fuzzy and holding you in your place as if you’d drift away without him grounding you. 

A sudden, harsh gasp left Peter’s lips as your hand grazed over the gash on his side. You pulled away immediately, eyes widening as his screwed shut. 

“Sorry!” You winced, before giggling softly at the circumstance, “Sorry.” You repeated, much calmer with humor in your tone. 

Peter couldn’t help but laugh with you through his pain as he gripped his side again. 

“It’s fine,” He exhaled and shrugged, “Can’t even feel it, you take all my pain away.” 

You snorted, leaning down to softly kiss him as his lips chased after your own. 

“Aw, that’s sweet,” You mused, “You are taking the pain killers though.” 

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no pressure tags! (pls ignore this if you’re not into fics! i’m just tagging some mcu mutuals since I don’t really have a taglist anymore)

@userbuckynat @pinkandblueblurbs @shurisneakers @spidermaens @spiderrpcrker @rcwena