#about how much I adore hesitant!Peter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nothinggold13 · 2 years

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In my mind, there is a key similarity between Peter and Caspian’s humility, and what that means for them as Kings, though that humility is shown with a very specific difference: Caspian is asked whether he feels sufficient to become king, but Peter is told that he will be.

Here’s Caspian’s exchange with Aslan:

“‘Welcome, Prince,’ said Aslan. ‘Do you feel yourself sufficient to take up the Kingship of Narnia?’

‘I-- I don’t think I do, Sir,’ said Caspian. ‘I’m only a kid.’

‘Good,’ said Aslan. ‘If you had felt yourself sufficient, it would have been proof that you were not.’“

Now, as Caspian says, he is only a kid. The book describes him as being about Peter’s age (14), while the timeline says he is 13, which tells us that he is, at most, Peter’s own age, and at least, the age Peter was at his own coronation. (Though the book description doesn’t disallow for him being 13, I am personally partial to taking it more literally, and thus view Caspian as being 14 in PC. The timeline is a mess, anyway, so I give myself some freedom. This is inconsequential to the greater point, but is just a general explanation of why I treat his age as open here, even though there’s a “canon” answer.)

So, when Aslan crowns Caspian, he first asks him if he feels sufficient, and then applauds Caspian for his humility. The humility in question is that Caspian doesn’t believe he is sufficient: i.e. enough. That’s the big thing Aslan requires of the people he makes stewards of Narnia: not that they themselves are enough, but that they rely on Him; Aslan is the High King above all High Kings, and when he appoints a King over Narnia, he is choosing not just a leader for His people, but someone who will follow.

Now, how does this apply to Peter?

Here’s Peter’s own conversation with Aslan:

“When the girls had gone Aslan laid his paw -- and though it was velveted it was very heavy -- on Peter’s shoulder and said, ‘Come, Son of Adam, and I will show you the far-off sight of the castle where you are to be King.’

And Peter with his sword still drawn in his hand went with the Lion to the eastern edge of the hilltop. [...]

‘That, O Man,’ said Aslan, ‘is Cair Paravel of the four thrones, in one of which you must sit as King. I show it to you because you are the first-born and you will be High King over all the rest.’

And once more Peter said nothing, for at that moment a strange noise woke the silence suddenly.”

Peter is silent through this entire exchange, though, specifically, the second time we’re told it’s because they are interrupted by Susan’s horn. During this conversation, the only insight into Peter’s thoughts is focused on his view of the castle: “[...] but to Peter it looked like a great star resting on the seashore.” We’re given no reaction for what Peter actually thinks of Aslan telling him he is to be High King... however, we are told how he feels in the moments immediately following:

“For a moment Peter did not understand. Then, when he saw all the other creatures race forward and heard Aslan say with a wave of his paw, ‘Back! Let the Prince win his spurs,’ he did understand, and set off running as hard as he could to the pavilion. [...]

[...] Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.”

So, although the narrator doesn’t tell us what Peter thinks about becoming High King, we are told exactly what he thinks and feels about the first act he is called to do under that role: he doesn’t feel ready. Firstly, it doesn’t occur to him that it is his duty to act until Aslan waves everybody else back, though when he understands, he runs without further hesitation. Secondly, Peter has no confidence in his own actions when he goes to fight the wolf; he’s terrified, even though he doesn’t stop running. But that’s the thing about Peter: he may not feel ready, but he will always do his duty.

Compare this to the movie scene, where Peter is given a chance to respond to Aslan’s statement:

Aslan: That is Cair Paravel, the castle of the four thrones, in one of which you will sit, Peter, as High King. You doubt the prophecy? Peter: No. That’s just it... Aslan, I’m not who you all think I am. Aslan: [...] Peter, there is a Deep Magic more powerful than any of us that rules over all of Narnia. It defines right from wrong, and governs all our destinies: yours and mine. Peter: But I couldn’t even protect my own family!

In the movie, Peter is allowed to express those thoughts that remain internalized in the book: he doesn’t feel ready, and that scares him. Yet, when asked if he doubts the prophecy, Peter says “No,” and then when Susan’s horn sounds, Peter runs off immediately, willing to do what needs to be done. Although the scenes switch Peter’s moments of inaction and action, (holding his silence, but failing to act autonomously in the book, but speaking his fears and running in without hesitation in the movie,) both scenes tell us the same thing about Peter’s character: it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t feel like he is enough, because he will do what is needed, regardless.

Back to Caspian for a moment. While he may not have saved the Narnians from the Telmarines himself, at the time that Aslan asks him whether he feels sufficient, he has already been leading them for several days at least -- perhaps weeks -- even in battle. Caspian has acted as King before. And yet, when the question comes, he still feels he is only a kid: there is no way that he alone is enough. (But he is not alone; Aslan rules before him and beside him, so long as Cas will follow him.)

Peter, meanwhile, has never been King. He has led his family, yes, and done what needed to be done, but he hasn’t acted as King in the way Caspian had by the same point in his story: the moment Aslan tells him he will be King. Peter’s a kid. Peter’s scared. Peter doesn’t understand all that this means for him.

And in the book, Peter says nothing.

After all, Aslan didn’t ask him. He told him.

But if Aslan had asked him, I feel Peter’s response would have been very much the same: Aslan asks, “Do you feel yourself sufficient?” and Peter says, “I don’t think I do. I’m only a kid.” But there is one thing I would add to Peter’s response, only because it is the thing he shows us again and again by his actions: “But I will do it because you ask it of me.”

Peter doesn’t take the role of High King without question because he believes himself to be sufficient; if Peter believed his own power was enough, he would never be King of Narnia at all. But the reason Peter doesn’t question in the book is the same reason he starts running the second he hears his sister’s horn in the movie: he will always do his duty. His silent acceptance could never be, “Yes, of course, I understand completely.” It’s him holding in his doubts, his fears, his uncertainties. It’s the way he says, “If you say so, then I will do it, although I cannot understand.”

Peter is duty-bound. Always. It is that quality which, in the movie, took him from “Look after the others,” to, “You will be High King.” And though in the movie they let him question that which scares him, it never takes away from his willingness to do what needs to be done. I don’t think it’s paradoxical for Peter to show us both: he has always been a man of thought as much as a man of action; hesitant but willful; wavering but faithful; humble and noble, in all he does.

When Caspian is asked whether he feels sufficient, it is not exactly the same as being offered a choice; it’s not as if he says, “I don’t feel ready,” and Aslan says, “Then I won’t ask this of you.” The question is Aslan asking: he is simply asking after Caspian’s heart to rule, not his willingness to.

For Peter, this is already decided. There’s no question. But it’s alright, because he doesn’t need the question. For all his fears, he is still willing. For his own uncertainties, his heart is already growing in Kingship.

They’re different boys, in different circumstances. Both are Kings. Both are only kids. And even though one is asked while the other is told, they are both willing, and it is that obedience which makes them the Kings they are.

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luveline · 6 months

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hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter."

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor.

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare.

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you."

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal.

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur.

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase.

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak.

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to."

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You're Peter?" you ask.

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–"

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask.

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?"

"Not so, you know. Daunted."

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye.

"Oh, you think so?"

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap.

"Let's get you to the car, baby."

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up.

"Home."

"Together?"

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy."

"Thank you," you say shyly.

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again?

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?"

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly.

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty."

"You're my boyfriend?"

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–"

"You want to get married? To me?"

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–"

"We did?"

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it."

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me."

"I love you," you say quietly.

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession.

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?"

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober.

Which reminds him.

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat.

"What is it?" you ask.

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!"

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crymyeyesout1 · 2 months

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Set in their sights

poly!marauders

Summary: The marauders are all in a poly relationship with each other and Lily when they all individually become interested in a shy hufflepuff in their year. What about this little hufflepuff makes them all feel complete? Will she return their affections?

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of smut, lots of fluff, very shy oc, mentions of child abuse. let me know if there are any more

PSA: this is my first time writing on tumblr so please be kind, I'm trying my best. And there is absolutely no peter in this story so sorry not sorry. Please let me know if you like it and if I should write more.

✩₊˚.⋆✩⋆⁺₊✩

James and Sirius were hurriedly making their way through the train; their lovers were already in the marauders designated compartment and they were running late. It would seem as if the two hadn’t seen them since their fifth year ended just three months ago, but in reality it had been only five days since their shared boyfriend and girlfriend had departed from James’ home where they had spent almost the entire summer doing whatever they pleased.

“Pads slow down you are going to run someone over” James pleaded with his boyfriend

“ Prongs please we are late and I’m not going to-” he was cut off by a body colliding with him square in the chest and falling over. He peered down to see a small girl and became almost immediately enamored with in his eyes she was the most adorable girl he’d ever seen to others she was almost odd looking her hair was mostly pitch black but around her face and peeking out a bit from the underneath was bright blonde and all of it was naturally curly. The girl was wearing a hufflepuff jumper that looked at least one size too big with a black skirt and sheer tights that had some kind of pattern to them, stars, Sirius recognized and on her feet lay black worn out combat boots. Sirius reached out his hand to help the poor girl up and for a few seconds she hesitated almost as if she was scared of what would happen if she did take his hand, which reluctantly she did. He carefully pulled her to her feet and as he did so he took quick notice of her eyes: they were a dark gray and dull like there was no life behind them, they were slightly sunken and were surrounded by deep dark blueish purple eye bags. Just by looking into them Sirius could tell she was sad and it broke his heart a part of him wanted to take this girl and hide her away from all the evils of the world that she had already seen. He wanted to be the reason the light returned to those eyes. His thoughts were going a million miles a minute when someone clears their throat dragging him back to reality. It was James, his boyfriend, how could he be so stupid as to be so caught up with this random girl that he completely blanked on his relationship. He had two boyfriends and a girlfriend already. What was he doing ogling this poor girl?

“Hello there, sorry about this brute, he can’t pay attention to anything even if it's right in front of him” James quickly apologized to the poor girl on Sirius’ behalf.

“It's quite alright” a soft and dreamy voice came from the girl in front of them, James instantly took more notice of the girl completely understanding he boyfriends staring now. In just three words you had encapsulated him and he needed more.

“Well little love, I’m James Potter and can I tell you how much of a pleasure it is to run into you. Please you must tell me your name, little love.” The girl blushed furiously at the nickname and softly responded.

“Abigail Gaunt '' Her last name caused Sirius to freeze, flashes of his mothers teachings came flooding into his brain. The Gaunts were the last known descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but the last living Gaunt was put in azkaban for murder by means of the killing curse, an unforgivable. How was one standing in front of him, and how was she a hufflepuff, oh how he would love to see the look on his mothers face the last known heir of slytherin sorted into hufflepuff. Surely she couldn’t be in his year, his own sorting into gryffindor had caused uproar but this, this was a whole new level. James had seemed to notice the shock on Sirius’ face and had elbowed his arm, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“Oh I’m Sirius Black, but of course you already know that doll” he winked at her and if her face could have gotten any redder it would.

“Um well yes but um I-It's nice to m-m-meet you” she stuttered out trying with all her might to act normal but in her mind no she wasn’t normal not even in the slightest bit. But two fourths of the infamous marauders stood in front of her and were they? Merlin forbid they were flirting with her?

Impossible, flirt with her? What were they thinking?

She tried to reason with herself when a beautiful voice filled the hall

“There you boys are Remus and I were starting to worry oh! Who is this?” The voice belonged to the one and only Lily Evans, every aspect of her was beautiful, it was no wonder she had the three most sought after boys in the school on her leash. And what was that last part, she had noticed the small hufflepuff standing with her boys. Abigail might as well have been on fire with how hot and red her cheeks were.

“Lily Pads! We were just on our way when Padfoot decided to tackle Abby here” he looked down at her and cocked his head to the right “ I can call you Abby right? Good because that what I’m calling you, Abby is so much cuter sounding than stuffy Abigail” The girl now newly nicknamed Abby gave a small squeak as the larger and very muscular boy wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him and gave a small “sure” when she noticed his expecting gaze. If someone could die from embarrassment Abby definitely would be long dead.

“Oh it's so nice to me you Abby what year are you?” Lily gushed at the girl in her boyfriend's arms, she was just too cute and her deeply reddened cheeks only made her more so. Lily wanted nothing more than to kiss them but that would need to be discussed with her boys.

“Come on boys, let's leave Abby here to go find her compartment, I’m sure her friends are waiting, just as Remus is waiting on us.” She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Abby’s cheek then turned and walked back to their compartment. Abby didn’t have a chance to even think about how she definitely didn’t have any friends waiting on her, in fact the past five minutes have been the most interaction she’s had with someone her age ever she thought. Each of the boys had followed lily’s lead and each kissed one of your cheeks and moved to their compartment. Leaving Abby a flustered mess in the middle of the train.

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #lily evans x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #poly!marauders

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shockedemojiatsv · 3 months

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MOREEEEE BEN REILLY 🙏🙏🙏 IM BEGGING

▪︎■☆Benny, Baby☆■▪︎

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK UNDER THE CUT!!🔞

☆ cis!Ben Reilly / spiderhero!male reader

☆ Drabble and probably OOC

☆ angst and fluff headcanons first

☆ kind of cringe? Maybe? Maybe not? Depends on who's reading it

°○☆happy reading☆○°

☆ his morning voice is so deep but not in a sexy way its more like a funny way. Maybe not overly goofy but he's so loopy since he's still a little sleepy he will make you laugh a little with his voice.

☆ seldomly clumsy. He'll walk through corridors and move his hips to avoid hitting tables and when he miscalculates a move he'll wince in pain, but if you're there he'll try to pretend nothing ever happened.

☆ He's clingy. Like, puppy clingy. He'll never admit it but the next best thing other than working out is holding you. It could be in any kind of context. A fluffy moment, a sad scenario, or something a little more intimate. But don't expect him to get his grabby hands off of your body 24/7 because he just loves to hold you and be there for you.

☆ look at me in the eye and tell me he isn't dramatic. ATSV Scarlet spider here, imagine watching Grave of the Fireflies with this guy. Get your tissues.

☆ His hair is so silky. I'm sure he maintains it well. He's willing to share his own secrets to you so that the two of you are walking around with hair everybody wishes they had. haha.

☆ He's a little bit of a jealous person. Not in a toxic way, per se. But he's a little insecure whenever you spend time laughing and talking with the other spidermen. Usually the Peter's. Ben knows he's a clone. He thinks he's just a copy. He hopes you don't leave him for something more "original".

☆ continuation of the hc above me, he'll try holding your hand whenever you're talking to somebody. Not all the time. Just when he feels uneasy. Just a little reminder to you that he's there. Please don't go.

☆ bad nights aren't common between you two but he'll let his laid back facade fade away and he'll lean on you for comfort. You're his strength. His beacon of light. In a world quite cruel he knows he can rest on your shoulder and recharge his energy just being around you

☆ he loves to work out with you. Definitely. He's your best gym buddy and you'll end up exerting more effort into your routine because of how fun and challenging it is with Ben. He might forget a few basic equipment... so be prepared

☆ I just really like to think that he's a clingy puppy when you two are alone, and small remnants of that desperation for your attention clinging in the air. Hugs and cuddles, thumbs-up. Hand holding and a few kisses, thumbs up. Brushing his face against your chest or vice versa whenever you to get to bed, oh absolutely.

☆ I don't know if he'd be a PDA person, but he definitely would be. He likes showing how much he loves you. Like, every part of you. Your hands, your smile, you're voice, everything. It's like a warm presence that has him forgetting about all of the shit that made him edgy /hj. He'd hold your hand on your arm or your shoulder or whatever. He likes touching you

☆ call him petnames. Any kind as long as if it's a petname. And as long as if it's made by you. That takes the cake. His personal favorite is "Benny baby" because 1, it's adorable, 2, it's catchy.

°○☆ nsfw under the cut ☆○°

☆ He's sloppy. Literally about everything. When you'll kiss him or if he'll kiss you it doesn't matter who takes initiative, he won't hesitate to use his tongue. Sucking your tongue to get a better taste of it. Or kissing your cheek so much it becomes wet in a few minutes. He'll drool like a dog no matter what he does. He'd be ashamed of it at first but when you'll reassure him that it's normal and everybody has their own quirks during sex he won't try to struggle and hide it.

☆ pull his hair. He'd adorably whine and complain. He'd tell you to stop but he doesn't want you to stop. The first time you tried it he was feeling conflicted but he definitely didn't try to stop you the next time around.

☆ he'll probably try to cover his face whenever you fuck him. He's so shy all of the sudden... so when you web/cuff his hands above his head, leaving him powerless to cover his face he pretty much just cums sooner.

☆ if you're somewhere else and he's somewhere private, he'll send you a picture of his abs. Pretty normal. That is until he'll send you even more provocative pictures. That's when you snap and try to finish the errand to get home as soon as possible and fuck him till he goes blind.

☆ PET PLAY‼️‼️‼️ Please please PLEASE treat this man like a horny little mutt. He'll go crazy when you call him puppy or bitch or literally whatever. He's a golden retriever isn't he? Oh he'll melt. Get him a leash too. A pretty collar with your name on it. He'd hide it well away from guests but when you two are alone... he has his fun.

☆ remember what I said about pet play? Oh boy, take it to the next level and he'll go nuts. Literally. Strap him tight on a pet crawler and treat him like a legitimate dog. You probably wouldn't need to touch him for him to cum anymore at that point. Drowning in humiliation to the point where all he could do is whimper for your touch, a command, a word literally anything.

☆ he likes to be degraded. Call him a stupid mutt and tease him about his "rut". How badly he wants to breed/be bred. He'll let out a series of whines and please unless you gag your little puppy. Perhaps if you don't gag him, you can make him woof a little. It's embarrassing. Humiliating but Ben's already past point of clarified thinking.

☆ that doesn't me he isn't a fan of praise! Call him a sweetheart. Your loving little puppy. A good boy. Brush your fingers against his hair and scratch his scalp just right. He'll cum right then and there. Dick frotting against your leg. That is, if you gave him permission. If you spoil him and let him suck your dick while you praise him he'll get drunk. So unbelievably drunk, you'll end up doing most of the work again.

☆ rarely ever a bad boy. He'll follow your orders. And if he's being a brat... well, taming him isn't hard.

☆ if you're going to be bottoming he'll be really soft with it. He'll only go hard if you tell him to. He'll do everything you tell him to do. Go soft? He'll go soft. Move faster? He'll rut inside of you while he sobs out how good you feel around him.

☆ oh my god this man's cum. He definitely cums a lot. Ugagahahh like,,, BROOOOO. Istg. It drops down his dick like thick droplets of pearls and its so filling. Goddamn, doesn't matter if you dom or he does its so much. Please milk him.

☆ oh he has a happy trail. Fuzzy, dirty blonde, well kept ish. He doesn't like to shave it because when it grows back it just gets itchy.

☆ He's a biter. Doesn't matter who's on top. Expect love bites everywhere, anywhere. It feels right to him. In a possessive way. He's yours, your his. Actually, try marking him too. It's hotter that way.

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sacharinee · 11 months

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hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues.

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,”

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.”

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,”

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands.

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame.

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion.

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.”

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment.

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.”

“you and me both,” strange clips.

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.”

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing white socks and dark shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.”

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’”

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

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bearw-me · 26 days

Note

Greetings Mal, as you have requests open I humbly request a Emily x g/n! reader romantic oneshot. Primarily fluff but some light angst with a quiet/pessimistic reader. Based around a wingless angel who supports Emily's ideas and helps her whenever possible. They have developed some feelings for Emily but would never admit or believe it to be a mutual feeling, she finds out through someone else and ultimately makes the first move.

ugh, i adore your request! especially the reader- consider me excited to write this one!

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

𐐒 includes : emily x gender neutral!reader 𐐒 cw : fluff, slight angst, confessions 𐐒 summary : having feelings for an angel is an impossible feeling, especially if she's as perfect as the seraphim Emily, and your an angel without wings. 𐐒 word count: 1.3 k 𐐒 note : lowkey proud of this

Angels, whenever the word popped up into your head, it was always the image of her: A beautiful blue, bubbly seraphim who's name the heavens must've envied. . . at least. . . you know you did.

"Hey! I was looking all over for you!" Emily, as if right on cue, appeared from the clouds over head, her big blue eyes giddy with excitement as she hovered in front of you.

"Oh. . . what for?"

"Come on silly! I thought you knew everything," she teased, taking your hands in hers, swaying them as she continued "We have a meeting with Sera and the other angels today! I think it might be about. . . about uh. . ."

'Her hands are so soft. . . and small,' you smiled to yourself, trying not to focus too hard on the contact with her. Instead, you tried to follow along with her words.

Right. . . a meeting with the other angels.

Emily leaned in closer, the highest pair of her wings fluttering around your faces as she whispered "I think it might be about hell and the sinners!"

You smiled as the young seraphim broke out into a squeal, throwing her hands up as she continued her hovering dance around you.

"I can't believe it! Oh this is so exciting! Come on!" She took your hand again, firm but just as surprisingly soft as the clouds.

You lifted a foot from the ground, your heart, your head, oh heavens- everything in you wanted to go up there into the sky with her. . . but-

"I'm sorry Emily," you gently let go of her, letting your eyes flit away from her confused expression. "I don't think I'll be attending this one?" You cringed at the forced excuse. . . and at how unconvincing your tone was.

"What do you mean?" This time, when Emily approached you, she let her feet kiss the ground, tucking her wings into herself. "I could really use you there you know."

She didn't try touching you, but you could tell she could see your hesitance.

Lute, Adam, Peter. . . even Sera. Especially Sera. They would all be there, obviously.

You took a deep breath, nodding before you could think against it. I mean, one glance into her eyes and you knew it was over "I'll have your back in there Emily. . . you know I always do."

She bounced on her toes, building up to a ginormous life squeezing hug that you were not against!

"Oooooh! Thank!! You!!!" She pulled away, just far enough for you to see her smile stretch ear to ear. "We'd better hurry, I think it starts at noon!"

"Uhm, actually Emily, I'll walk, I have something to do. . . but I promise I'll be there!" You waved awkwardly, watching the bubbly angel swiftly take off towards the clouds.

She seemed to have left with all your good thoughts. You sighed again, a long drawn out, achy breath.

They'll all be there.

Adam, the first man in heaven and the most often to point out your flaws. "How the fuck could you be an angel without wings? What are you? Fallen?" The memory of his words stung, and as you walked towards the grand hall, you didn't even notice the fact you kept rubbing your shoulders.

Lute, the second in command who'd always look down the bridge of her nose at you. She didn't say much to you when it could be helped. . . maybe she respected your position next to the seraphim's.

You winced, seeming to drag your feet the longer the walk took.

Sera.

No matter how hard you tried, with Emily, with her. . . it was written all over their faces:

How could a wingless angel like you ever compare?

Entering the grand hall wasn't too bad, you took an empty spot near the door, the meeting already far into its session.

"They are requesting another meeting with heaven," and angel, down in the center spoke up to the surrounding balconies. Seraphim's and saint's alike glaring down grimly at the request.

You tuned out, hoping to stay a little bit smaller where you sat, and absentmindedly letting your gaze flicker about the room.

Just across and at the front of the room, the two most familiar seraphim's sat, Emily's round face and eyes twisted into hard features as she listened onward.

She was so passionate about things like this. Its probably the thing you admired most about her. . . that she could just say whatever she wanted and stand tall against whoever opposed her.

Maybe that's why you took the position to work for her and assist her anyway you could. Too bad the young seraphim caught you muddled in your own thoughts today.

"This could lead chaos!" The speaker warned, almost pleading the heavens not to go through with this next request.

Muttered and anxious whispers filled the room, a cacophony of unease. . . and that's when Emily noticed you staring at her.

Her bright blue eyes softened for a split moment before her eyes fluttered to the ground.

'That seemed. . . weird,' and just like that, another sickening thought appeared to taunt you, 'Maybe what the other angel's were saying about my wings finally got to her!'

But maybe. . . maybe it was true. Or maybe what they say about your wings, or lack thereof, was true. Maybe it was supposed to hold you back from her. From telling her the truth about how you felt.

With a hard swallow, you kept quiet, trying to engulf yourself in the meeting now that it mattered more than your feelings.

"No! Hell deserves a chance! We need to hear them out!" Emily's lite voice reminded you of bells, even when she was angry.

The young Seraphim pleaded to those around her, then her eyes tilted up to Sera, who already looked conflicted.

"They deserve to be heard out at least! Don't they?"

"Of course they do."

The room suddenly spun around to you and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Did you really just say that?

You turned to Emily, who's smile appeared brighter than the sun "They deserve to be heard out," you repeated.

"I can't believe you did that!"

"I can't believe I did that," you repeated again.

After the meeting had ended, Emily pulled you to the side as the other angels poured out of the grand hall; out of earshot, almost out of sight.

"Aw!" Emily's hands snapped up to her lips in a perfect prayer.

Your self-pity and anxiety washed away the moment you noticed her eyes were welling up with tears.

"Thank you!" She threw her hands over your shoulders, embracing you tight "Thank you so much for saying that in there!"

You let your hands stay glued by your side, afraid to hug her back for many reasons, but appreciating it nonetheless.

"Oh!" Emily recoiled from the hug, making your heart clench again at the empty feeling you had "Someone told me something today. . . It was kind of. . . erm." She trailed off, rolling her eyes as if she were looking for the right words.

"Emily, I don't want you to think-"

"I know!" She took your hand into both of hers, pulling you down so that you could lean down closer to her "Someone already told me! And I'm not telling you whoo~"

"What. . . are you talking about?"

The nervousness came from. . . well it came from just about everything, welling up like a thunderstorm around your heart.

What did she know about you? What did the angels tell her?

"I just wanted to say thank you, for everything you do! and give you this," she said simply, before propping herself up onto her tip-toes and placing a soft, drawn out kiss to your cheek.

#hazbin hotel #imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #emily hazbin hotel #emily x reader #emily x gn!reader #fluff #slight angst #emily x you #oneshot #fic #emily x angel!reader #hazbin emily #seraphim emily

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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year

Note

I love your Spencer Reid stuff, you truly don't get enough requests for him. You write him so accurately and I live for accuracy behind fics so you're the literal best.

I also adore your prompt list so I'm here to request maybe prompts 18 and 21? Some soft!spencer with a lot of fluff. Poor guy just needs some affection lol.

Thank you!! Have a fun vacation and I'm so excited to see what you write in 2023!

Thank you so so so much for the nice words! I do pride myself off of accurateness when writing characters! I literally study their mannerisms and how they talk and put a ton of time into research so I'm glad that you can tell :) Thank you for the well wishes on vacation, I'm writing this ahead of time and can only hope that, when this is posting, that I'm having fun!

Spencer falls into my arms as soon as he rounds the couch, head tucking firmly into the crook of my neck as a happy sigh escapes me. It's been about a week since he left in the middle of our date to meet the team at the airport, jetting away to Los Angelos without hesitation.

It's safe to say we missed each other.

"I'm so happy to be home." Spencer mutters, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. I rub his back soothingly, pressing simple kisses to the side of his head, humming along to the music I have playing over the record player in the corner.

"You alright?" I ask, never sure if the case took a personal toll on him- sometimes it does- but he just nods his head with a loud, dramatic yawn.

"I just needed to be in your arms." He whispers. "You bring me a sense of comfort that I haven't felt in a really long time." Since Maeve, I think, a sad smile slipping across my lips and I hold onto him tighter as a reminder that I'm not going anywhere. "Plus, Derek gave me a hard time on the way home because Hotch beat me at chess." He mutters with an immature huff, head tilting to give me a tired eye roll and I giggle.

"Awe, was the baby so tired that he couldn't win at chess?" He scoffs at my teasing, pulling back to sit up, running his fingers through his taunt curls.

"I really don't like you." He pouts and now it's my turn to scoff, leaning towards him so I can capture his lips in a brief kiss before whispering.

"And I really don't believe you." -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres @bungunz

#spencer #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Text

inspired by @thecoolerdor's story (yk which one i mean pookie :>>)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

oh, sorry, you were asking something? — professor!spider noir x professor!reader

your husband was a brilliant professor, though he wasn't the most fun one out of the bunch, his students found him so endearing that they couldn't not show up to his classes just to see and greet him. he was always trying his best, always modest and humble, never sought to be perfect but just right—he was perfect already to you, and because of that, you didn't hesitate to marry him years ago. now, several years into your marriage together, you both are now currently working at a local university as professors, with students who adore you both, though for your husband... they adore him maybe a little too much.

there were always those students in some classes that would get a little too close to their teachers or professors, but they wouldn't last very long. you've had your own fair share of that kind of experience, and so has your husband; though a few girls in his class this year had made you just a bit concerned than the previous times this has happened, and it was mainly because of how open they were about finding peter attractive and sweet. they had asked him to smile in class, and not being able to say 'no' to his students, he innocently smiled at them, with them snapping a few photos and squealing at how rosy red his lips looked, how his doe eyes and pearly white teeth shone through his smile, and the way his dimples popped up when he grinned—oh, he seemed heavensent to those girls.

they complimented him so eagerly and so often, as the days passed, the girls had kept up their overly-friendly act towards peter until today, the very day when they asked him before they left the teachers' lounge: "are you married, professor parker?" that question made you freeze up, it stung you a little bit because you had hoped nobody would pry into the private life of both you and peter, but these girls had shattered that illusion you kept up and brought you back to reality.

you turned your head over to your husband, who looked at these girls with the same surprised expression as you and, as you fret over whether or not to break it to these girls so they'd leave him alone and give you peace of mind, you heard peter's gentle voice call over to you. you hesitantly made you way towards him, debating to yourself whether or not you should tell these girls straight-up that you and peter were spouses, married to each other, but you kept reminding yourself that they asked peter, not you. you hoped from the bottom of your heart that peter would tell these girls, finally say 'no' to his students' desires for once and to get them off his back—when suddenly...

peter wrapped his arm around your waist, pulled you close, and leaned his face towards you with his lips puckered up. before you could ask him what he was about to do, he had clasped his lips with yours, in front of those girls, and kissed you tenderly. his kiss felt like he hadn't kissed you in a thousand years, though he had just kissed you that morning. he pulled away from you, your face all flustered and embarrassed as peter chuckled and blushed seeing you all cute for him when he surprised you with a kiss. he held up his left hand and proudly showed off his ring, grinning from ear-to-ear with a red and pink blush on his face as he declared with confidence: "yes, girls, i'm taken by your lovely professor here." he said as he kissed your cheek, with you growing ever more flustered at his loving demeanor.

the girls had finally been put to a stop from their flirting with peter, and peter had finally gotten them off his back. though that wouldn't guarantee those girls would immediately lose feelings for him, one thing remained constant—he was your husband, and he was only going to love, like he always has loved and still loves wholeheartedly, you, his dearest spouse.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @arachnoia @thee-fantastic-mrfox @ophanimgold @fictarian @yuridopted0

#spider noir #spider noir x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir x y/n #spider noir fluff #spider noir fanfiction #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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matchibee · 10 months

Text

Stay

something something, you get injured, something something, Miguel’s reaction.

I honestly didn’t know where to go w this I just knew I wanted it to go somewhere, not proofread

It wasn’t easy, god this was difficult. Miguel couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way you moved fluidly, a river of your own creation. So sure in your movement, so unique in your existence.

Miguel couldn’t help it if his gaze lingered for one, two then three seconds too long. Couldn’t help if when the two of you exchanged glances he wanted nothing more than to dive into your eyes, submerged in a gaze that reflected how deeply he yearned to touch you.

But Miguel was afraid.

He was far more afraid than he’d ever prove capable of admitting, a man scorn by the flame of grief, fanning the embers that threatened to spread.

Couldn’t his broken mind repair itself so he could indulge in your presence?

Perhaps it was too much to ask.

But the multiverse asked too much of him, simultaneously. Asked too much as it placed an incarnate of perfection before his very eyes, a small piece of heaven practically in the palm of his hand, but a man as corrupted as Miguel couldn’t dare touch you. He didn’t want to condemn you to the depths of whatever lied within this sphere of rock and ash.

But who did Miguel think he was fooling? Try as he might, there was no force in this universe that could cease his rampant mind, a man on edge. To keep from reaching out to you exercised a great deal of strength, Miguel practically groveling in your presence.

Thank goodness nobody had taken notice.

Right?

“Miguel can be… interesting.” You told the group of spiders at your table — Pavitr, Hobie, Gwen and Peter B. “But I don’t think he treats me any differently than anyone else.”

The collective groans left you taken aback, munching on your collection of a meal as you gave them a moment to speak their peace.

“I’ve never seen him yell at you, never! You don’t find that a bit odd?” Pavitr was by far the most passionate about the subject, vocal without hesitance. A young boy in the midst of his own love wanting nothing more than to see those he cared for engrossed in adoration as palpable as his own.

But perhaps it would be best if you reconsidered who you attracted, for his mental health.

Just so he could sleep at night.

“Maybe I dont screw up as often as you guys do.” You shrugged your shoulders, not buying anything they had to say. Miguel didn’t like you, he was your boss, a man battling inner demons. He didn’t have time for affections, let alone those feelings stemming from a member who’d arrived only a short time prior to Gwen.

“Pav has a point,” Gwen spoke up, all eyes on her. “He seems… less angry whenever you’re around.”

Through a sip of your beverage you let out a spur of sarcasm. “Wow, revolutionary.”

“It is a bit odd the only missions you ever go on are with him, yeah? Like the bossman wants to protect his little secret.”

The call of your name, Lyla appearing at your shoulder, startling you from the conversation.

“What’s up, Lyla?”

“Miguel’s looking for you in his office — says he needs you for a mission.”

The table erupted into a cacophony of ooo’s, eyebrows wiggling as smirks graced their mischievous faces. “Shut it,” Your groaned through clenched teeth. “You’re forgetting whose AI this is.”

“Oh, she knows all about your little crush on Miguel, mate.” Hobie always proved to be the blunt one, an anarchist with a mission for mischief. “What we’re tryna figure out is if the man upstairs fancies you.”

“He’s not… Hobie, do you know what—“

The call of your name once more, this time from a voice that proved even more familiar, bodies growing stiff as you opened the communication channel. “I had Lyla call you five minutes ago. We have to get going.”

Your response fell from your lips without missing a beat. “Right, on it.”

“Get some!” Hobie bellowed, your jaw going slack as you made a dangerous bout of eye contact, glare like daggers, Hobie not one to retreat from a challenge.

“Get what?” Miguel was confused on the line, and though you couldn’t see his face you knew his palms fell to his hips. “What are you getting?”

“Hobie was asking Peter B. to grab him more empanadas.” The lie slipped from your tongue as though it was awaiting the moment it would escape. “Bring me some too, won’t you, Peter?”

The man mumbled a string of words, obviously dazed, yet rising from his seat nonetheless. “I’ll be there in a sec.” You told Miguel, Hobie chiming in with a ‘Damn straight.’ just before you could close off the channel.

Was it too late to change professions?

You strolled into Miguel’s lair with hesitant movement, the scene previous playing through your mind like a twisted nightmare, one you feared to recall was memory. “You wanted to see me?"

Of course Miguel wanted to see you, his guiltiest of pleasures. It would be a lie to say he hadn't meticulously chosen you for this mission, a low-stakes anomaly that could've been bested by even the most juvenile of Spider-People.

An opportunity to hear your voice, to watch as the sunlight bounced against your skin, shimmering as though gilded by the heavens.

"I thought you were getting an empanada?" His eyes had merely flickered to you, your body and the way you seemed to lean away, your gaze that refused to meet his.

Shit.

"I ate it on the way here."

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." Miguel was fiddling with the screens manifested before him, switching between useless tabs, needing to do something with his hands.

You furrowed your brows. "Why not?"

"Wouldn't want you choking."

Your lips curled into a smile then, a genuine expression hidden beneath your mask, suddenly grateful you'd opted to wear in on the way here. It was such a simple string of words, hardly a declaration of love, but within his extension there was concern, affection.

"We should get going." After all, you had things to tend to in your own dimension, never a dull moment. "Wouldn't wanna leave my universe hanging."

Your universe.

Miguel loathed to think you were from another dimension, a domain apart from his embrace. If he had it his way, and it seemed the cards were never in his favor, Miguel would keep you alongside him here for eternity.

But you had duties, responsibilities.

Relationships.

His heart clenched at the thought, the prospect that someone was waiting for you upon your return, someone that wasn't him.

But a man could dream.

In life there was love, so many infinite forms there was only a matter of time before Miguel could call you his. And perhaps if it wasn't in this lifetime it would be the next. Just as he wasn't meant to be a father in this life, perhaps he wasn't destined for affection, either.

Wordlessly, Miguel opened the portal, stepping into the multicolored spiral, not waiting for you to accompany him.

After all, he knew you'd be there without fail.

Upon your emergence Miguel already had Lyla surveying the area for debris, any clue towards discovering the presence of the entity. "Oh!" Lyla had perked up from her crouched position, analyzing a coat she'd been eyeing for quite some time. "They're just up ahead."

Miguel looked to you from over his shoulder, eyes behind his mask making you feel impossibly small. "Ready?"

"Always."

-------------------

Too much to handle, far too much to handle.

The only words that penetrated your mind as a Chameleon variant dragged you through concrete, the material of your suit having ripping along your shoulder, trailing down to your forearm.

There had proven to be multiple anomalies, something Miguel hadn't accounted for, the man rushing off to bring yet another Vulture variation to their knees, leaving you stuck with a knock-off Chameleon.

In an attempt to break free you repositioned yourself onto your back, pain spreading far quicker than previously, pushing your legs up against the reptile's chest and repelling him as far as your legs could throw him.

But the variant was relentless, baring his teeth as he charged towards you without a second thought, entirely unhinged. In one fell swoop he had you thrown up against the side of a building, mind abuzz with static as you fell onto your knees, an imprint of your body immortalized within the concrete structure.

Blood trickled down your nose, chapped lips stained a cruel crimson. You peeled your mask from your face in an effort to get some semblance of air, breaths heaving, a piercing pain erupting throughout your chest.

Still, you rose to your feet, fists held out in front of you.

"You Spider-people are so annoying," Chameleon spoke in a voice like pins and needles. "Always getting back up no matter how hard I knock you down."

You laughed, a chuckle that bubbled in your stomach despite the pain. "That's kinda part of your job description."

Chameleon clicked his tongue. "And your death is a requirement for mine."

"Well now you're just lying."

Chameleon didn't entertain your attempt at humor for a second, lunging towards you, body knocking into a streetlamp, the post denting upon impact.

This variant really had a proclivity for tossing people. Maybe if villainy didn't work out he could pursue a career in the major leagues.

And while the image was entertaining, a humanoid reptile dominating home plate, you weren't sure how much longer you could remain conscious. Your vision was a blur, multicolored apparitions bubbling across your peripheral, invading clarity. It was only a matter of time before your body conceded, giving into the aches and pains, the sleep beckoning your name.

No, wait. Someone was literally calling your name.

The seas of blur parted for just a moment, Miguel rushing towards you as though a valiant knight in his blue-red armor. In one fell swoop he had Chameleon on his knees, the variant powerless against his strength. He was sent to the holding facility, he flash of light indicating you'd won.

Well, Miguel had won, but it was your victory all the same.

In a flash your body went limp, Miguel there to hold you close, head held within the palm of his hand, yearning for you to stay with him.

"Hey," Miguel was speaking in whispers, heartbeat rampant as he felt your limp form against him. "We can go back now, we won."

Your hand pressed up against his chest, just barely missing his cheek. "I'm fine right here."

Miguel had never seen you like this, injured and entirely vulnerable. He hated it, despised it, prayed to whoever could hear him that he could take your pain away, shoulder it for himself.

"No," Miguel shook his head profusely, tears brimming in his eyes, but you couldn’t see them through vision that speckled like constellations. "We're taking you back to HQ, taking you—"

Miguel watched as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder, the only display of affection your aching bones could manage. "Let’s stay here, Miguel."

He’d stay with you for eternity if it meant Miguel could have you, swimming through the river styx until all he knew was your pain, damming himself for just the opportunity to see you once more.

Miguel looked into your eyes, truly looked into them, his hands pressed against your shoulders, calling your name through your delirium. In orbs with a painfully distant gaze he could see himself, the way his face contorted into an expression of refusal — Miguel couldn’t lose you, would rather succumb to darkness that have to give up something he held close.

“I’m here,” Miguel whispered your name, tears like raindrops pattering against your skin. “I’ll always be here.”

But if Miguel made such a promise, an oath that chained his heart, he needed you to make it too. “But you have to stay with me, okay?”

You weren’t sure how long you’d been down, how long you fought your mind to obey you, ignore the pain coursing across your skin, infecting your soul. But it was Miguel who brought you back, Miguel who danced his lips across the top of your head. “I need you.”

And you needed him too, more than he could ever know.

You snapped back quicker than you’d believed possible, mind buzzing with emotion, your senses enveloped by everything Miguel.

A gaze of flame that burned with your image, reflected in flecks of gold, an ember that trickled into a wildifre at just the mere mention of your name — a gaze so intense if you looked into his eyes for too long you might burn, erupt into a pillar of light as oblivion reached to interlace your fingertips in eternity.

And despite the intensity, the heat radiating off of him, there was nothing you yearned for more than you yearned to be with him, to exist within him. You’d accept nihility with open arms if it only meant a second of his touch.

“You’re here,” You smiled through the pain, entirely believing you’d been hallucinating Miguel’s presence until this very moment.

“You needed me.”

His words were instantaneous, missing not a single beat. He held you closer than he’d ever been capable before, a climax to this tension that festered in the pits of his stomach.

“Thank you,” You whispered, arms wrapping around his shoulders, enveloping him as closely as you proved capable. “I love you.” The words slipping from your lips without a second thought.

You could feel how tense Miguel grew, entirely rigid. And though the words tickled his throat, a pain like nothing before, Miguel couldn’t help the yearning of his heart. “I love you too.”

There was something about those three words that left you in a state of delirium, body yearning for everything that encompassed Miguel, entirely incapable of alternate thought.

“Miguel,” You spoke, limbs still sore, entirely conscious you couldn’t move on your own. “Can we go?”

The man chuckled, hand stroking down your cheek, tilting your head so your gaze would be entirely on him. Slowly, as though you might shatter, Miguel drew closer.

"Where should I take you?" Miguel mumbled against your lips, still concious of the injuries slowly healing in their own time.

"Home."

And with a smile, one that burned his cheeks, Miguel took you back to Nueva York.

#across the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderverse x reader #miguel o’hara

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milimeters-morales · 5 months

Text

So my thing with Hobie’s nicknames: I have Hobie call Lyla “Tinkerbell” or “Tink” bc she’s small, has a yellow glow, and has an attitude, so i’m probably just gonna have him base his names off of childrens’ story characters, like for example Jess would be “Kanga” and her unborn baby is “Roo”, Margo I haven’t decided yet since we don’t know much about her movie-self and Hobie wouldn’t have any character to reference bc of her technology, but from what I’ve seen she could have her nickname as something related to The Little Mermaid because while everyone is here in person, she’s in her own dimension in a life she doesn’t really enjoy, but i’m also hesitant to have him think “Cinderella” is a good name because cmon. Her parents argue a lot, and she does use being a vigilante as a form of escape, but that’s implying that they hate her and harm her, and that’s not something Hobie would say without 100% certainty. Maybe he’d just give her a non-character nickname, like Pixie (bc Pixelate, Pixie Dust, Pick-&-Choose, whatever). Okay this is getting long it’s continued under the cut.

I personally don’t like the Gwendy and Peter Pan nicknames he gave Gwen and Miles but i guess it’s cute, but i would’ve preferred something a bit more personal to Miles rather than just in relation to Gwen bc they feel less like their own people then, even tho Peter and Wendy were an adorable duo. I can see Gwen = Wendy bc she ran away from home to a “neverland” that was supposed to be a paradise basically but realizes she can’t stay, or if you take that “Gwen was going to be shot in the stomach” thing some people who worked on the movie said they got rid of and apply it to her “ghost, gwen stacy always falls, forever immortal and taking back control” thing and her relationship with death and the idea of Neverland having dead children so they are “immortal” and “never grow up” it sticks.

But (even if it’s teasing) calling Miles “Peter Pan” doesn’t even make sense because he didn’t lead her here, she led him to the Society (unknowingly). Like people want to shove “sunflower” and “flower” into everything involving Miles so badly and it feels EXTREMELY forced. I feel like Hobie would call him something else, and this is where the name “Bambi” could come in because while Miles hasn’t lost his mother or father, he’s still learning his place in the world while saving countless people now and in the future, and will eventually become a great stag, even if life wasn’t always kind to him. But again, I don’t think Hobie would do that 100% because he doesn’t really know Miles like that. Or, he could go for more recent nicknames and non-character names that are safer, like “Brave Little Toaster/Toaster” for obvious reasons, or “Spark/Bolt/Livewire” that don’t feel as child-like as “Bambi” or as forced as “Peter Pan”

I also have to take into account what things Hobie just might not have seen, because in the setting i’m talking about he’s not living in a houseboat, so he probably doesn’t have much time to see or learn about these fairytales/characters, and it’s based on chance on when he’d know about them. Because I also have to remember that his city is still highly policed and his people are forced to fit into the mold and comply to societal standards and whatnot, so even things as simple and enjoyable as short stories for kids would be heavily controlled. Libraries are fucked in his universe but they’re one of the only “safe” havens. I think it really adds to his attitude about his own life, how he’s much older than these friends despite being like 16-19, and how he feels the most responsible for them no matter how much he denies that and tries to get rid of that feeling. Calling them these nicknames gives him both the feeling of “haha, these little kids are the future and i’m an old man” and “i’m a little kid again!!”

that’s it :3

#to be clear this is all in my fic. so like it’s not really anything i’m applying to canon atsv hobie at all. lmao #me just ranting #that was the lost coherent post of the day people the pain is back and with a vengeance…..#miles morales #spiderman #spider man #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider punk #ghost spider #spidergwen #gwen stacy #m&m posts #not tagging the others sorry margo lyla jess and jess’s baby

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oldshrewsburyian · 8 months

Note

what classic romances do you think measure up to harriet and peter in gaudy night? i’m really craving more satisfying classic romance

Well, kind inquirer, I have a confession. I had read the Wimsey novels multiple times by the age of 16. Over the past 2+ decades, Peter and Harriet have taught me a lot of things, even if I have learned them more slowly and painfully than I would like (Lord, teach us to take our hearts and look them in the face...); even if I feel as though I have not salvaged as much as I could from life's various shipwrecks. The point is: no one measures up, not for me. My dear, if you have let me come as far as your work and your life... That said, I can offer some suggestions, presuming that you mean by "classic romance" romance that happens outside the genre parameters of romance novels. I'll start with the most classic and work my way forwards. [Under the cut for length!]

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë (for obvious reasons, I imagine. Perhaps the thing I love most in romance is two intense weirdos deciding to love each other intensely and weirdly.)

Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare (I know I said I'd work my way forward, but then I said 'intense weirdos' and remembered my beloved Benedick and Beatrice. Beatrice, an unmarried woman in her uncle's household, interrupts men's political conversation to demand to know whether he's alive because she can't stand not knowing for a minute longer... and that's her opening line! and then they roast each other for 2 hours! I love them so much!)

Persuasion, Jane Austen (Anne is, I would argue, quietly intense, while Frederick is obviously so; he's also weird enough for both of them (affectionate.) I adore them, I support them, I wish them many decades of shocking society with how they look at each other across rooms. And dinner tables. And pianos. And dancing squares.)

Artists in Crime/Death in a White Tie, Ngaio Marsh (this is the Alleyn/Troy duology the way that Strong Poison/Have His Carcase/Gaudy Night is the Peter/Harriet trilogy. I adore Troy, an anxious and compassionate artist with gnc tendencies, and Alleyn fascinates me. Intense weirdos again. Alleyn successfully pretends to be normal most of the time, with everyone except about 3 people. Occasionally he decides to stop, or just does because he's very tired and fed up, and then everyone in the room gets very freaked out very quickly. I love him.)

The Case of William Smith, Patricia Wentworth (bonus detective round! Wentworth is not in the Sayers-Marsh class, and this novel has some tropes I don't like, but I love the gentleness of the central romance so much that I still reread it.)

Possession, A.S. Byatt (Victorian poets, the scholars who study them, the life of the mind and the life of the heart. This is absolutely a novel with Gaudy Night in its lineage.)

The French Lieutenant's Woman, John Fowles (I hesitated before adding this to the list, but it's a novel of ideas that is also about love and sex and identity and Englishness with a very vivid setting, so it might fit the bill?)

The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje ('I believe this. When we meet those we fall in love with, there is an aspect of our spirit that is historian, a bit of a pedant, who imagines or remembers a meeting when the other had passed by innocently...')

Charlotte Gray, Sebastian Faulks (Birdsong is the greater novel, but this one might be the one I prefer. I love Charlotte and her quest to find herself that is also a journey toward love! and vocation! and the images for the lovers in this book are indelible)

Bonus round of books I looked at on my shelf and decided were about so many things that the romance might not be central enough: The Children's Book, Love in the Time of Cholera, The Remains of the Day, The Portrait of a Lady, War and Peace, Brideshead Revisited.

Bonus bonus round, not a book: Random Harvest. Yes it is a book, but in the novel, the romance which truly is emotionally anchoring (I would argue) is much more peripheral than it is in the film, which was, like the Wimsey novels, formative for me. Also, look at them:

I have not been normal about the way he looks at her for *checks notes* 25 years. And I hope you find some things to enjoy here!

#long post #book recommendations #romance #two fiddlers both musicians #charlotte brontë #jane austen #sebastian faulks #ngaio marsh #a.s. byatt #john fowles #michael ondaatje #patricia wentworth #random harvest

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whats-her-quirk · 4 months

Text

hot chocolate

jean kirstein x fem!reader rating: M (my blog is 18+, minors do not interact) warnings/tags: Fluff, comfort, mention of past breakup, Christmas, friends to lovers word count: ~700

Adorable dividers by @saradika

“Did you know that the elf with the glasses is the same guy who played Ralphie in A Christmas Story?” The movie is already starting as you carefully return to the living room with two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Is not,” Jean chuckles. He carefully accepts his mug before slorping some mini marshmallows off the top.

“I’m serious.” You settle in on the couch next to him before taking your first sip. “When Buddy says he’s only made 85 Etch-A-Sketches, the guy who tells him he’s behind is Peter Billingsley. Look it up on IMDB, I’m right.”

“Wait, you’re serious? How did I never know this?” Jean cradles his mug to his chest and squints at the TV, waiting for Ralphie to appear in Santa’s workshop. He’s wearing a festive red and green turtleneck with cozy joggers, and the big bowl of kettle corn he brought over sits on the coffee table between you.

It’s been a weird December. You would have said it was a bad one if it weren’t for Jean. It was supposed to be your first Christmas alone—the first since the breakup that shattered your world, miles away from the family you wouldn’t see until you flew out on the 23rd. You were bracing for a much harder month, but your friends, especially Jean, made it more than bearable. He made it light.

When you expressed doubt about putting up your tree alone, he showed up with a bottle of wine and a new string of lights in case yours were burnt out (they were). When you wanted to go see lights, he took you out for a drive in the ritzy neighborhood on town over, where you didn’t even know the good displays were. He let you make a mess in his kitchen decorating cookies and wrangled Connie and Sasha for an ice skating night all together, and now here he was, the week of Christmas, hunkered down for a movie night just because you said you were feeling a little down.

“Oh shit, that’s totally Ralphie. I can’t believe I never realized—”

“Thank you.” You set your mug on the table, half gone already despite how hot it still is.

He laughs. “I mostly believed you. I was just giving you a hard time until I saw it for myself.”

“No, I mean, that’s fine too. But I was saying…” You’re fumbling. “Thank you for hanging out with me so much. I really needed this.”

He shifts in his seat, leaning forward for another sip of cocoa when the liquid sloshes before setting down his own mug. “Of course. We’re friends.” He sounds a little nervous, uncharacteristically.

“It’s just—” Words you’ve been thinking for days, maybe longer, start to come forward, and you choose to let them. “It’s your Christmas too. There are other things you could be doing. Other people you could be with. Family or… whoever.”

“Well, yeah, but I… like hanging out with you. I always have fun. Even if you make me wear silly reindeer antlers in public.”

You knock his shoulder. “I did not make you.”

Jean rolls his eyes. “Fine, you’re right.”

You feel your face lighting up. “What’s that? Can I get that again?”

Jean’s own smile blooms, his eyes darting up and down your face, and then you feel it—heat and butterflies as he leans closer, breathing a laugh before hesitating, looking down his nose at your lips. Your chest pounds, but yes, you want this as bad as he does, and you seal your lips to his in a kiss that overtakes you. Jean inhales sharply, hands sliding up your arms to gently hold your shoulders. He tastes like chocolate and salt. After a few blissful moments, you pull back, your head spinning.

Your eyes flutter open, searching for his. You’re shaking, pleasantly surprised. “Friends, huh?”

Jean cracks up, pulls you back in, mumbles against your lips. “Maybe more.”

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #junes writing #snk #YALL DIDNT THINK I'D DO IT

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spidervee · 1 year

Note

Requests I see? If you’re still taking them, how about possessive!TASM Peter, maybe a little spicy too👀

hey sweets! this may have been a little bit of a different kind of possessiveness from what you had in mind, but I hope you like it nonetheless 🌻 18+ only; fem!reader, a little bit of violence and some filthy preamble to what might become hate-sex

Peter can’t turn on the television without seeing you. He can’t walk down the street without your face staring at him from every newspaper stand—well, not your face, exactly. The mask that you wear does its job in obscuring your features, but in the few selfies you’ve stopped to pose for with new and undoubtedly adoring fans, he can always just see the hint of your upturned lips, a smirk, he imagines, taunting him beneath the deep scarlet of the stitched fabric.

He hates you. True, he’s never met you and it was perhaps a bit unfair to someone who was admittedly quite good at catching criminals, but he still hates you. Because who were you to show up in New York, unannounced, and draw every fucking news outlet in the city to make comparisons between you and Spider-Man—and where was Spider-Man these days, they ask as your photo dazzles on his small tv screen.

Getting older, Peter thinks grimly, determined not to punch another hole in the wall beside the tv stand. And dealing with his shitty back and hesitant to go out vigilante-ing lest he kill another petty thief, let that darkness that sat beneath his ribs come running out.

But it’s watching you live on the news that does it for him. Because as much as he hates you, the sight of you being thrown into a cement wall with back-breaking force still makes his throat go tight. And when you emerge from the dust and rubble, on shaky legs but still standing, Peter can’t help but feel relief, even as he pulls his Spidey suit from the back of his closet and allows it to cling onto him like a second skin all over again.

When it’s all said and done—when the news crews have cleared and the crowds have gone home and it’s just you and Spider-Man in a dank subway tunnel, mask staring at mask in an expressionless impasse—Peter fights through the ache in his muscles and pushes you up against the wall, cold stone beneath his gloved hand where he presses a palm up beside your head.

“Whatever this little game is,” he growls, “It ends tonight. This is my city. My people. My streets. My problem.”

He expects you to falter. To buckle. To cede your heroism and disappear.

He does not expect you to scoff beneath that mask of yours and tell him to go fuck himself.

His hand slides from the wall to your throat and he can’t possibly miss the way your breath hitches when he presses himself closer against your body, no room for air between you. He wants you to feel his strength, to be aware of the bulge of his muscles and what they could do to you. Mostly, he just wants to scare you a little.

“I knew you were fucked up,” you spit, and the venom in your voice makes him falter just a little before his fingers tighten around your neck in warning. He feels your heartbeat quicken and feels his own blood start to head south and wants to break something, but the only thing in front of him is you.

“Everyone hiding behind one of these is a little fucked up,” Peter mutters, his free hand skating up the side of your body and toying with the seam where your mask meets the high neck of your spandex suit. He hesitates for a moment as he begins to tug at the mask, expecting you to stop him, but you don’t, and he rolls it up and over your chin to expose your mouth to him. And what a pretty little mouth it is, even as you cheekily try to nip at his fingers.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns, voice dark, back straightening when you give a soft laugh, the sound of sunshine in the darkness of this abysmal place.

“Or what?” Your voice is defiant, lips turned up into that smirk Peter knew was hiding there, though he can hardly see it, even with his heightened senses. “What’re gonna do to me, Spider-Man?” The second syllable of his name comes out in a mocking lilt and Peter can’t help himself—has to make you shut up somehow—and shoves two gloved fingers into your mouth, enjoying the way you gag around them briefly before he feels you start to suck.

#tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!spiderman smut #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #spicy spidey #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP W/ EDDIE BROCK & VENOM (616 | generalized canon)

────────────────────

random Headcanons

SFW, minor canon action

pic source: Venom: Lethal Protector (2022) comic

part two

Your worst arguments happen because of them being so quick to engage in fights with Spider-Man if they so much as catch a glimpse of the web-slinger. (this was more of a problem earlier in the relationship)

Eddie is very much a man of action, and is allergic to inactivity, so oftentimes he has no idea about the newest pop culture phenomena. If you want him to engage in that media with you you’ll have to be the one bridging the gap.

You can however coerce him into watching a show/movie with you if you ply him with cuddles. He’ll 100% be paying you more attention than the screen though.

Alternatively though, the symbiote loves watching the silly little pictures on the screen and will usually request to watch movies with you if not already preoccupied.

One: because he likes being around you (you’re gonna get real used to the feel of the alien, trust me) and Two: because the dialog helps him improve upon his people skills for talking to civilians.

(Eddie’s natural gruff straightforwardness is only so helpful - ie:not helpful at all - for them when trying to save or soothe spooked people as Venom.)

Eddie’s eyes are a very intense blue-steele and the first time you met you told him he had “doll eyes”. However, he was so baffled he laughed so you count that as a win and mention the natural uncanniness of them every once in a while to tease him. You love his eyes though, really.

They love to kiss (and bite) at the junction between your neck and shoulders. I have a longstanding headcanon about marks and shit but I’m not gonna go into that rn.

Get comfortable with the distinct knowledge that you technically come second for both of them. It’s just that there’s a difference between being romantically involved (you and them) and being codependent and in love(Eddie and the symbiote).

On another note they do call you Precious (and if we take the name out of the context of how some of us were bullied with it it’s actually beautiful so…just let it happen). Eddie let alone Venom is clueless to the connotation. Plus Eddie’s got a really obsessive personality so I think that coupled with Venom’s own baggage coming into play makes the nickname very fitting.

They always reach for your hand in public, especially when around others to show that you're theirs cause they’re possessive like that.

They don’t need to sleep per say, as long as they have the right nutrients, so honestly sometimes they don't even go to sleep whenever joining you in bed. They'll just lay beside you smiling to themselves and watch you sleep.

They end up telling you they love you purely by accident after you had gotten hurt by falling debris when Spider-Man and Rhino were fighting. (They say it mid rant).

The only good thing to come out of the whole situation is Venom getting to carry you.

The symbiote, not possessing the concept of human shame, will say the most inappropriate things to you in public without a fuck to give. Eddie, shamelessly, also quietly does this to you because most human conventions mean nothing to him anymore.

They think you're adorable when flustered, and like it even better when on occasion you join in.

They’re constantly fretting over the possibility that Carnage might come and kill you for shits and giggles or that somehow Peter will manage to take the last pure thing in their life away from them.

Being away from them? Ha, ya right. They’ve always got you physically close or monitored by a part of the symbiote (I’m mixing up symbiote abilities so if it bothers you a lot then just say the part that stays with you is the clone of venom). You're really never without a part of them but you don't quite mind it. They’ll also resort to stalking with zero hesitation.

They take great pleasure in making their "mate" feel worshiped so you’ll have a lot of fun with that. Just make sure you accept and are vocal about your appreciation for their antics if you don’t want them to stop. Reciprocation doesn’t hurt either.

you(little spoon) eddie(big spoon)

The symbiote definitely appreciates being held more than Eddie with his intimacy issues and the ingrained notions of how men “should” act.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

If this looks familiar know it’s because it’s from an old blog I ran (just rewritten a bit), but otherwise it doesn’t really matter. I also noticed that I have a lesser amount of Marvel imagines than I do DC so this is definitely me trying to rectify that. Also, trust me, I know the Lord of the rings connotation I’m just not addressing it.

btw: This is a side blog so while comments are welcome I won’t respond.

#venom #eddie brock #symbrock #black!reader #black y/n #venom symbiote #eddie brock x venom #eddie brock x black!reader #venom x black!reader #eddie brock x black reader #eddie brock x reader x venom #eddie brock imagine #venom imagine #symbrock x reader #venom x reader #eddie brock x reader #headcanons #eddie brock headcanons #venom headcanons

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sacharinee · 1 year

Text

peter moments part three!

pairing: peter parker x reader

w/c: 1918

a/n: hi i hope u guys r having a great new year so far :) i kept this in the drafts for weeks and im throwing it out here now. school is back up so im sad again but i hope u guys r all well <3 enjoy!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you not knowing your own boyfriend is new york’s friendly neighborhood spider-man has to be the funniest thing ever to peter.

it started sophomore year when you and peter had teensy crushes on each other. you and he often had study dates at one another’s. however, this usually ended up with you falling asleep halfway and him having to pull an all-nighter to teach you the topics of your exam.

peter is hard at work at your desk, preparing for the calc midterm you two had the next day. while you were supposed to be studying, you found comfort on your bed, watching youtube videos of crazy spider boy sightings in queens instead. it wasn’t your fault anyways; the viral footage of the superhero is all that everyone’s talking about recently.

“pete,” you called out. he doesn’t budge when you call his name, still scribbling math formulas you don’t even want to attempt to understand.

“peterrr,” you singsonged. he drops his pencil and sniffles, turning your swivel chair around to face you, “what’s up?”

“y-yea i’m fine” he answers with a reassuring smile. you don’t know what it is about him recently but you can tell something is off with him; he’s leaving school early, arriving late, and completely exhausted for your study nights, and he seems to be on edge whenever you’re around.

you usually berated him, advising him to take some of the load off and spend some more time for himself, even supporting his decision in quitting band. although, you think your guidance has something to do with your feelings of loneliness and detachment away from peter.

“okayyy,” you draw out unconvinced, “well, have you seen that new clip of the weird spider thingy? it’s crazy! look at it,” you shove your phone in his face. you don’t notice the way he smiles at you in secret, peter thinks it’s adorable how excited and easily distracted you get. but he knows it's going to be the death of him when you call at 3 am asking him to explain the concept of derivatives for your shared calc exam.

he’s hesitant to look away from your face. you’re in such awe when you stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at your screen, he thinks you’re the prettiest.

when his attention does fall on your phone, he’s quick to realize what clip of his alter ego is playing and abruptly grabs the device, shutting it off. “hey! what are y-” “you know that’s all fake right? it’s all done on a computer?” “what? no, it’s not. look at him!”

“i’m looking and it seems like it’s all cgi to me.” peter’s doing anything he can to deter you in the wrong direction, anything he can grasp.

“well cgi or not, i think he’s so hot,” you defend. “i mean, can you believe it? with his bare hands! how much does that car weigh? has to be like a few thousand pounds, right? and the speed it's going at? oh my god, he’s so strong.” you gush.

you miss the way peter’s face glows like fire. he’s red, really red. all blushing and trying to control his breathing. you think he’s hot? him? and strong too?

it’s times like these when peter struggles to compose himself and resists telling you the truth. he takes a deep breath, pinches his nose bridges, and opens his mouth, “actually, y/n/n, um”

you cut him off, grabbing your phone back, “it’s so crazy. i heard he’s out every night fighting bad guys and everything. i hope he has someone taking care of him too.”

peter stands there, mouth open, unsure of what to do next. he realizes you’re right, telling you would be selfish, and he can’t risk putting you in danger.

he purses his lips in disappointment and looks back at you. you’re in your previous position, laying down with one leg over the other while you hold your phone close up watching spider-man do backflips for new york citizens. you don’t have a single care in the world. and peter would like to keep it that way.

so he bites his tongue and goes back to studying.

—

a few days later, you and peter arrive back to your room after school.

“thanks for staying up all night with me the other day. i really didn’t know what was going on calc,” you graciously thank him. peter was running on a two-hour power nap before he took that midterm with you, but it was worth it when you came rushing to him, squealing with excitement. you tackled him with a big hug, showing him your exam with a b- written in red marker proudly.

“of course,” he blushes. peter always makes time for you, even if it gets too inconvenient for him.

he makes his way into your room dropping his bag by your door and walks over to your bed to rest, “i’m really proud of you, you know? that test was hard and ms. warren didn’t even curve-” peter stops dead in his tracks when he sees what’s laying on your bed.

a miniature spider-man plush decorates your comfy mattress.

“what’s wrong?” you come up behind him. you cleaned your room this morning knowing you and peter would be hanging out later on so it shouldn’t be too messy.

peter laughs, “you uh, you sleep with that thing?” pointing to your beloved plush. you quickly grab it in its defense, “yea, so what?” you have an adorably angry look on your face which peter knows all too well.

he smiles at you, “n-nothing. it’s cute.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

it only got worse as time went on.

you rush through harry’s front door; his lavish loft that his father bought for him to keep the two of them separated, was often used for your friend group to hang out at. your friends, harry, mj, ned, betty, and peter were all waiting for you to arrive, and you were running late due to an unexpected emergency stop.

“oh my god, finally. we’re starving, where were you?” ned groans. you might’ve kept them waiting with the pizza you promised to bring. peter quickly stands up from the couch and walks towards you, grabbing the large boxes from your hands. he spares you a sweet smile with a kiss on the cheek and whispers a soft greeting to you.

now that peter had the courage to properly ask you to be his girlfriend a couple of months ago, you would think he has the guts to tell you the truth. however, he always decided against it, opting to keep spider-man under the radar when it came to you. it certainly got more difficult when he’d come to your place with a limp and sweaty hair all while you would ask countless questions asking if he was feeling okay or if he ate earlier that day. you’re just a curious person by nature.

“i know, i’m sorry i’m late, buuut…” you leave a dramatic pause. “i was out getting these!”

your friends watch you stumble taking your shoes off and holding it in front of them. all you receive are blank stares and confused faces in return.

mj’s the first to speak up, “crocs?”

“no, not the crocs,” you walk up closer with your shoes on display, “the spider-man jibbits!”

your squealing captures peter’s attention when he drops the pizza boxes off on the kitchen counter.

“wait- that’s why you came late? to buy your little jibbits?” harry remarks. “they’re not just any other jibbits, harry, they’re spider-” “yea spider-man, i know.”

ned piques “h-hold on, you do know that-” peter rushes behind you, shaking his head, waving his hands frantically, urging his best friend to shut up silently.

“that uh, peter is… and he, uhm i-” ned visibly gulps, “i have to use the bathroom.” he hurriedly runs off to what you assume is the restroom and you look at your friends and peter weirdly.

“what’s his problem?” you throw your shoes by the front door and wash your hands, grabbing a plate to put a slice of pizza on top. peter stands there, wide-eyed with flushed cheeks and chest heaving, a tell-tale sign he’s nervous or stressed. everyone on the couch stares back at peter while he stares at wherever ned ran off to.

you offer him your slice of pizza, “are you okay?” while nodding his head peter gulps too, “mhm.” he gives you an awkward smile and grabs his pizza from you as you take the back of your hand placing it against his neck and then on his forehead. “you’re getting kinda warm, pete. you should drink some more water. i’ll get it for you.”

you go back into the kitchen, fetching him a glass of water while he sits back down on the couch beside his friends.

“she doesn’t know yet?” mj whispers. “how does she not know?” “even i know you’re spider-man, and that’s saying something” betty teases.

“it’s,” peter sighs, “it’s complicated.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

at this point, your friends began to bet how much longer it would take for you to catch on. they even love fueling your obsession with spider-man, sending tiktoks, edits, and new footage of the superhero.

it’s a few days after christmas and you and your friends found themselves lounging at harry’s sitting together near the christmas tree.

“okay y/n,” harry sets his gift in front of you, “your turn.”

this year, you and your friends decided on doing a fun secret santa for each other. you were sad in finding out that you and peter didn’t receive each other, but that didn’t stop you guys from getting personalized gifts for one another. you and your boyfriend are fully clad in matching pj's with santa hats on top of your heads.

“hmmm” you ponder. “is it… keys to a new car? orrr a new phone? ooh! or the new louboutin shoes they released last week?” you hold your present close to you and tap against it while a million ideas rush through your head. harry’s dad is rich; your imagination is unlimited. you once saw harry gift a laptop once for a guy he barely knew.

“it’s even better.”

you hum in response, carefully digging out the tissue to pull out his mysterious gift. your fingers feel something soft, and you slowly lift it out of the bag.

“oh my god! no way!” his gift leaves you gasping and jumping in your seat. you hold out your christmas present out in front of you.

everyone stares at you in puzzlement, “socks?” mj questions.

“only the best socks ever!” you squeal enthusiastically. peter looks at harry dumbfounded, only to find him mischievously smirking back at him. “i’ve gotta go put these on,” you run away excitedly with your gift like a little kid. peter shakes his head in disapproval towards him, your friends giggling at harry’s antics.

“you better tell her soon man, or someone might think she’s spider-man’s girlfriend, instead.”

“n-no! are you kidding? she can’t know, she’d freak-"

moments later you come back out squealing, showing off your clad feet completely decked out in your brand new spider-man socks.

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justareallyverychillperson · 11 months

Text

Rocket Raccoon-Autism and Immaturity

One way that autism can present in a person, is behaviour and speech patterns commonly associated with those younger than the autistic individual themselves. Here are a few examples of this appearing in GotG, related to Rocket.

SPOILERS FOR VOLUME THREE!!!

Vol.3 (Counter-Earth flashbacks)

Rocket as 89P13 plays with his friends much like a child would all the way until he becomes an adolescent. This is partially justified by their collective enhancements and their ignorance of social norms pertaining to the outside world. Regardless, the way he does not influence any of the admittedly adorable aspects of their childish games points to a mindset that rather chooses to embrace it fully.

He has learned to speak and enough equations to fly a spaceship, but forgets a phrase that has two many consonants (the enzyme thing that gets suppressed to make "angry turtles") Here the maturity of his vocabulary varies greatly. He also says thems and cants instead of them and cant. Of course he is still just a child but is nonetheless a gifted one with the theoretical potential of sounding much older than he indeed does in the scene.

vol.1

While we do not know how old Rocket is supposed to be, his criminal record implies he's very much an adult. And yet, here are some things he says before his arrest.

(to Groot) Learn genders man!

(gets bitten by Gamora) Biting? That's not fair [we later learn of his alleged history of this]

I live for the simple things. Like how much this is gonna hurt--- yeah, writhe, little man!

The schadenfreude mixed with slur "humie" which no one else says but him, makes him seem like the youth he was when he ran. Naturally, since no one was around to tell him to grow up in one way or another. Likely, his brain misremembered the word human and no one ever bothered to correct him, as it was after he escaped the High Evolutionary.

Vocabulistics is a rare example of advanced language similar to technobabble- half the words stored in his cybernetics are engineering related.

In the prison he is unarmed and does not hesitate to seek out security in his new humie pal, pawing at him several times to beg him away from the danger. His hunched-over stance adds to the meek display.

Another bonus is when he misses Gamora's sarcasm, before barking at Quill and whining about the plan going awry. Every parent has seen their child pull at their face like he does.

On Knowhere, his main objection to the way the rest of the team treats him is when Gamora, a woman, calls him a rodent. That's the last straw for the poor guy...not a pest, not a thing, just a smaller animal ^^

He mocks the Collector's mannerisms and goes straight to raising his voice when their dawdling customer stalls further by asking about type of currency. Yes, he is scared. Also, he is having a bit of a tantrum as opposed to speaking up about his anxiety. Not just trust issues...

"you got issues Quill"- sounds like someone skipped out on giving a raccoon sex education

Furthermore, his jokes about prostethics. That's it. His issues translate to innocent mischief. Why? Bc psychology.

Honorable mention goes to a touch-starved fella letting a complete stranger pet him due to Tree Death.

Lastly, his inability to grasp right and wrong. You apparently can't fit moral code and piloting next to each other.

Vol 2.

The winking. In the words of James Gunn "Cybernetics glitch sometimes" Tic disorder, anyone?

Again, the sarcasm. He even goes so far as to request Peter spell it out for him.

The desire to threaten with bodily wastes. Someone else's to boot.

He thinks objects getting larger as they get closer is a groundbreaking observation.

He doesn't know what suspicious behaviour looks like but is very tuned in to his general feelings towards people.

His blunt warning to Quill about his dad gets misconstrued as an insult. Not his fault his own 'dad' made him a bit cynical towards parents.

He chooses to use his captivity to laugh at the name Taserface and gets hung up on the reason Groot doesn't like hats. Confusion about other people's behaviour? Busted. (sidenote: he doesn't mind being called a rat as opposed to a rodent. Interesting standards)

His cybernetics glitch again when attempting to show scepticism towards Yondu's excuse for keeping Quill around. Can't express what you don't know.

He dubs the button not to press the Death Button. Dramatic much?

The irony of a guy who says frickin' at every opportunity teaching his plant baby brother not to swear xD

vol 3. Present day

He jumps into the arms of both Quill and Groot upon waking up. Reflex.

He listens to music even when Quill isn't there to hear it. It's only ever been a stim to him. Peter gets credit for reminding him, though.

#mcu #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #fan theory #neurospicy #autistic headcanon #vol 3 spoilers

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