Tumgik
#peter stone imagines
poetsofmyheart · 9 months
Text
my tears ricochet
chapter two. masterlist.
PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
WARNINGS: death, nightmares
WORD COUNT: 2,912
NOTES: anyone wanna be added to a tag list? i’ve gotten a few requests so lmk :)
Tumblr media
“what a shame she went mad, you made her like that.” - mad woman, taylor swift
now
the night peter walked me back to my apartment, i couldn’t get a single minute of sleep. my mind raced with thoughts about gwen and harry osborn.
the man who killed gwen was peter’s best friend.
what the fuck?
i couldn’t get it out of my head. the thought played in my mind like a broken vhs tape. stuck on a constant loop with no idea how to fix it. endless questions filled my brain. peters words flooding and repeating over and over.
“he was never caught.”
how does something like that happen? why did he do it? was he trying to get revenge? why gwen?
my mind raced with these questions all night. i ran through all possible answers until finally, at around five in the morning, my mind shut off. though, my peaceful slumber didn’t last long because i began to dream about gwen.
again.
i often dream about what happened the night at the tower. the details of that night have never fully been disclosed unfortunately. i only know part of what happened simply because peter had told me through tears after the incident, when he came in through my window.
although, it doesn’t matter because i only ever dream about the worst part of it all. the part where gwen falls to her death.
these dreams began a few days after her funeral. when the realization of her really being gone had settled.
i dream about her at the top of that tower, holding on to spider-man’s webs. i dream about her calling out for help, calling out to peter. i dream about what she must’ve been feeling moments before hitting the pavement. the fear that loomed over her body like a ghost.
right as gwen is about to let go of peter’s web, i jolt awake. i feel like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on me.
the time on my desk reads 1:25 pm.
yikes.
i’m not awake for long when the questions that kept me awake for majority of the night come soaring back. i jump up from my bed and go straight for my desk. powering on my computer, i go to the search engine and search harry osborn. i read the top result.
HARRY OSBORN
SON OF NORMAN OSBORN, CEO OF OSCORP INDUSTRIES
oscorp industries sticks out to me. i remember that’s where gwen’s internship was located at. that’s where she used to work. everyday after school, i’d drop her off at oscrop before driving myself to my piano lessons. i’d pick her up after as well and we’d drive home together.
i scroll a little further down and click on the oscorp website. a fuzzy photo of harry loads on to my screen. an i.d. photo perhaps. the photo feels eerie, unsafe. he looks like a normal person.
knowing this perfectly normal looking man was capable of something so horrendous strikes me as bizzare. looking at him makes my blood boil and my vision turn red.
for another hour, i’m left researching harry osborn and oscorp industries. i look for clues that might help me find out what he’s up to these days, where he might be.
as i’m scrolling, i hear a tapping sound come from my window. the familiarity of it sends a wave of electricity through me.
i quickly x out of the tab i’m in and walk over to my window. when i open my curtains, i see a familiar masked hero waving at me. i roll my eyes and lift open the latch. “what do you want? and how’d you know which window was mine?
“i promised i’d tell you everything.” peter says, jumping into my room and ignoring the second part of my question. he takes a look around my room, which is currently a mess.
clothes scatter my floor. bras, panties, sleep shirts, and all of the above. old piano sheet music and coffee cups litter every corner, and my bed is unmade, the sheets hanging off to the side. i kick some undergarments under my bed before he can see them.
his eyes land on my closet. my closet is wide open, the photos i hung on the door forever ago are on full display. he walks over to my photo wall and his eyes linger on a specific polaroid of me and gwen.
the photo was taken at prom. me and gwen are holding each other close, gwen pressing a chaste kiss on my cheek while i smile widely at the camera. the memory feels distant, but not forgotten.
peter chuckles softly to himself. “feels like a lifetime ago.” he murmurs. his gloved finger traces over gwen’s face, then over mine.
i’m relived i can’t see his face. i’d pain me to see the heartbreak and anguish that’s most likely written all over his expression, threatening to spill over.
a few seconds pass by in silence before i clear my throat. peter turns around fast, almost like he’s forgotten he was in my room. “sorry.” he pulls of his mask, a sheepish smile plastered on his face.
he glances around my room a little longer, admiring some of the band posters on my wall. he’s about to go over to my computer when i remember my researching from just moments earlier. i manage to beat him to it and shut it off before the tabs can reopen.
peter is like an unattended child. he runs around, grabbing and inspecting everything he sees like a kid in a candy shop. not a single care in the world.
i’m closing my computer when i notice he’s gone.
then i hear the piano.
“seriously, peter?” he’s sitting at my piano which is placed directly in front of my couch, where a tv would normal sit.
“you still play?” he presses a few random keys, creating a cacophony of noise. the sound reverberates throughout my apartment. “yeah.” my response holds a hint of annoyance.
peter is well aware of my love for piano. in high school, gwen would drag peter to some of my concerts. it would come up in our conversations often as well. he’d talk about his love for photography while i talked about my love for piano.
i cringe as he continues to hit random notes. he drags his fingers up and down the keyboard then repeatedly hits the same key over and over again, smirking as he does. “jesus, can you stop that?” i make him scoot over so i’d have space to sit on the bench.
he reaches for my sheet music. “hmm,” he rifles through the slightly crumpled sheets. “fantasie?” my eyes widen and i rip the papers out of his grasp. “don’t touch that!” i reorganize the papers and put them back on my stand. i’m worried he’ll recognize the song.
“geez, sorry.” he holds his hands up in surrender, a sign he might not have noticed. he stands up from his spot on the bench and sits on the couch.
“play me something.”
“no.”
“why not?”
“because.”
“because why?” he raises a brow.
“because i don’t want to.”
“what about your audition. don’t you think you should practice with an audience?” it takes him a second to realize what he’s just said. his cheeks redden.
it takes me a minute to fully grasp on to what he said. “were you… spying on me yesterday?” my eyes narrow at him suspiciously.
he runs a gloved hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his i’m very familiar with. “i may or many not have accidentally overheard.” he admits.
“creeper.”
i try to hide my smile by looking down at the keyboard. i play a few random notes. mine are subtle and soft unlike peter’s obnoxious ones. they echo beautifully.
we’re quiet for a moment as we listen.
“okay, how about this.” peter says, sitting up straight. i look up at him. “how about you play me a song and i’ll tell you everything you want to know about gwen and harry.”
“or,” i stop playing. “you tell me everything i want to know, and then maybe,” i grin as i drag out the last word. “maybe i’ll play you a song.”
peter groans.
“hey, there was no specification about a song!” peter laughs, but it simmers away just as quickly as it appeared, his face becoming serious when he remembers why he’s at my apartment in the first place. “i’m sorry.” he says, frowning.
my smile fades.
“i’m sorry for not telling you anything about what happened. i just-” he shakes his head. “with everything going on and what happened to gwen, i couldn’t risk losing you too.”
something that hangs loosely in my chest tightens.
“gwen died because she knew too much about me. i couldn’t get you killed too. you knowing i’m spider-man is enough to put you in danger.”
“so, you kept me in the dark.”
peter nods. “that night, i tried so hard to keep gwen away.” he let’s out a humorless laugh as he recalls the tragic event. “for gods sake, i even webbed her to a car.”
as peter continues talking, i realize i’ve begun moving my fingers to the rhythm of fantasie.
one thing i’ve started doing to cope with gwen’s loss was of course piano, but when i’m away from the piano and need something to ease my mind, i move my fingers to the rhythm of the song.
“what about harry osborn? why’d he kill gwen?” i’m barely able to get the words out due to my throat tightening. i can’t bare to meet his gaze, so i continue to play with my hands. if peter notices, he doesn’t mention it.
“harry was sick. he developed an illness, the very same illness that killed his father. it was hereditary. he became this sick monster, he almost didn’t look like himself. everyone on the case calls him ‘the green goblin.’ he believed spiderman’s blood could cure him. i refused to give him blood, and when he found out i was spider-man, he used gwen as a way to get revenge on me.”
my suspicions from last night had been correct. it was revenge on peter.
gwen was the one who had to suffer the consequences.
“he took her and dropped her and i didn’t reach her on time.” peter’s eyes glaze over.
the full weight of what really happened to gwen lands on me harshly. the tears i tried so hard to push back fall freely down my cheeks and soon enough, peter’s words become overshadowed by the sound of fantasie. my need to block out the truth causes my fingers move against the keys the way i’ve grown to love. i forget about peter’s presence and for just a few minutes, it’s just me.
and gwen.
once i’m finished, i keep my eyes trained on the keyboard. and then i remember peter.
“whoa,” is all he says.
“i’m sorry.” i try to laugh off my embarrassment. my voice sounds nasally from the crying. peter’s intense gaze makes it all the more harder to recover from my outburst. “it’s just a thing i do. this was gwen’s favorite song on the piano and i can’t help but move my fingers to the rhythm when i think about her.”
peter looks caught off guard, but not from my sudden playing, but from the sudden tears on my face. before he can comment on it i ask, “so what are you going to do?”
peter’s concerned eyes turn confused. “about what?”
“how are you going to find harry osborn?”
“i’ve been trying to find him for the past two years.”
“and you haven’t found him yet?”
“i don’t need your help, if that’s what you’re implying.” peter stands up from his position on the couch, all softness gone and starts making his way back to my room. i follow behind him and scoff.
“yes, you clearly do. it’s been two years. don’t think it’s about time you had some help?” peter ignores me and pulls on his mask. he climbs through my window, turns to me and says, “i’m not going to put you in danger the same way i did to gwen.”
then he’s gone.
a few days go by before i see peter again. except this time, i pay him a visit.
trying to get in contact with peter was a lot harder than it seemed. at some point in the last two years he’s changed his phone number, the one in my phone outdated.
i am also not in contact with any of my high school peers so there is no way for me to ask around for his number.
so i do what i do best.
i google him.
it doesn’t take me long to find peter because he’s the first result among the other one million peter parkers.
he’s a well accomplished photographer for the daily bugle. according to google, his most recent work consists of spider-man photographs.
shocker.
unfortunately, the daily bugle does not share insiders phone numbers which means i still have no way of contacting peter.
this left me with one option left.
i go to the daily bugle myself.
having been to the daily bugle myself before (for a high school field trip weirdly enough), i’m already well aware that visitors, aside from family, are not allowed into the building.
so i pretend to be peter’s wife.
before i reach the daily bugle, i make a quick stop at the deli near by. i order a sandwich, which i use as a prop. my excuse being that peter forgot his lunch.
“mrs. parker, wife of peter parker.” i say to the woman at the front desk. she eyes me suspiciously for a minute then nods. “third floor.” she says, and hands me a visitors badge.
i take the elevator and when the doors open, i meet eyes with the famous james jameson. he doesn’t say anything at first, peering down at my badge and narrowing his eyes. “mrs. parker?” he says, eventually.
“yes! is my husband peter around? he forgot his lunch.” i hold up the brown paper bag. hilariously, he stands there shocked. mouth wide open like a gaping fish.
“uh- yes. he’s just down the hall.”
“great.” he stops me before i can leave.
“i’m sorry-” he shakes his head with a laugh. “peter parker, right? he’s your husband?” he says this like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.
i nod.
before he can continue, i mumble out a thank you and walk down the hall as directed. when i reach the end, i’m met with a room full of cubicles, all the same grey, dull design.
i scan the room for a minute, and when i find peter’s eyes, his are already on me. his cubicle is tucked by the corner on the left side.
i wave and walk towards him, a hint of a smirk playing at my lips. when i reach him, he’s giving me a glare so deadly it makes hot liquid pour all over my body.
“what are you doing here?” he whispers, an edge to his voice. “you forgot your lunch.” i set the bag on his desk. his face contorts in confusion.
“also, we need to talk. it’s important.” before he can respond, i pull him up from his desk and drag him to the women’s bathroom. i lock the door behind us.
“jesus christ, y/n. someone’s gonna think i’m trying to get a quickie in on the job.”
“not if you shut up and let me talk.”
peter rolls his eyes. when he looks down at my badge, his eyes widen. “mrs. parker?” he sputters out, a blush creeping up on his cheeks.
“it’s was the only way to get in.”
“and what was so important that you needed to get in?”
ever since peter filled me in on the night of gwen’s death, i decided to use my new knowledge on the subject to conduct my own investigation. i find out about electro and harry’s assistant, felicia hardy, who i believe would be a great help in our search.
“because i know about electro and felicia hardy.”
peter looks distraught at the mention of electro and felicia. it’s not long before his shock quickly dissipates into anger. “i thought i said i didn’t need your help.”
“but you do, peter!” i fling my arms around, my anger building up rapidly, cheeks burning. “gwen was my best friend! my confidant, and i’m not going to rest until i find the bastard that killed her. i’m going to do it with or without your help, so why don’t you do yourself a favor and accept that you need my help. it’s been two years for fucks sake.”
peter blinks.
he seems to really think about it for a second. his eyes looking me up and down, then scanning my face. finally he begrudgingly says, “fine.”
my eyes light up a smidge.
“but the second things start going south, you’re out. got it?”
“got it.”
“this stays between us. there can’t be any secrets between us or else it’ll all go to shit. promise me you won’t keep anything from me.”
i hold out my pinky. “i promise.”
except i’ve already broken that promise because i’ve failed to mention the threatening letters in my mailbox.
233 notes · View notes
wordsarelife · 4 months
Text
DAY 8: UNDERNEATH THE TREE
Tumblr media
pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader
summary: you and peter both struggle to find the perfect gift and end up proving why you belong together
warnings: reader is risking her health and safety
notes: this is a bit ridiculous, but it's christmas time, so whatever huh?
"what about a cd?" gwen pointed at the stand to your right. the shop was filled with multiple things you could gift someone, just not peter. you wanted your gift to be meaningful and you just couldn't get it right.
"no" you shook your head "he probably owns every cd in the world already"
"what about a sweater?" gwen asked. you knew she wouldn't just give up like that. she had made it her mission to get the perfect gift for you. she thought if she would just name various things she knew peter liked, it would make eventually click.
you shook your head once again and gwen sighed. "you know he isn't the president, right?" she raised her brows at you "he will certainly like anything you get for him"
"i know" you said "but i don't just want him to like it, i want to make him speechless at how perfect it is"
"i don't think such a gift exists" gwen noted "why don't you just draw something or make your own mixtape?" she suggested
"peter is far better at drawing than i am" you shrugged "and i cannot deal with computers, you know that"
"okay" gwen nodded "then think about something that connects the both of you. perhaps something only you guys even know about?"
"ugh" you threw your head back, trying to think of anything "there is nothing, my mind is literally just blank"
"okay" gwen took you by your arm and walked you out of the shop "we're not getting anywhere with this"
"where are we going?"
"central park" she answered simply "where you guys met, maybe that'll help you"
"sure" you shrugged your shoulder "might be worth a try"
the way was shorter than you had anticipated and a few minutes later you were standing at the exact spot you and peter had run into each other.
"and..?" gwen wondered
"give me a minute" you turned around yourself, looking at everything like you had done that day.
there were memories quickly flashing through your mind, a boy with a skateboard, a book flying in the air, a wheel falling off a board.
"the wheels" you exclaimed suddenly
"huh" gwen looked up from her fingernails with raised brows "the what?"
"the wheels" you repeated even more excited "when peter and i ran into each other, meaning literally ran into each other, one of the wheels of his skateboard losened and fell off. we didn't find it, so i bought him a new one"
"so what's the plan?" gwen asked crossing her arms, looking at you suspiciously after she saw your face light up. "no" she shook her head
"come on!" you pleaded "that would be the most romantic gift ever!"
"you really think that wheel would still be here a year later?"
"maybe" you shrugged in a sing song. "where's the romantic in you, gwen?"
"i am romantic" gwen exclaimed offended "just not hopeless, like you are"
"you go look there, i'll search here" you directed and gwen gave in with an eye roll.
it took you about three hours to give up. there wasn't anything close to a wheel laying around in that park.
"what did i tell you?" gwen asked when you guys had sat down on a bench "it's gone"
"well" you pushed your hair out of your face "there is still one place we haven't checked" your eyes darted to the little pond next to you
"no, y/n" gwen said "it's december!"
you took off your scarf and mittens, putting them down on the bench "it's romance!" you argued.
gwen watched in horror as you got out of your jacket. "no, this is madness! you're going to freeze to death"
"i don't care" you got rid of your sweater too. the last piece of clothing you were willing to remove in public. "your apartment isn't too far from here, i'll be fine"
"y/n" gwen shook her head once again "please don't make me tell peter that you died"
"i won't" you assured, before you slowly walked into the water. "ooh!" you bellowed "yeah, this is cold"
"i told you!"
"too late now, anyway" you muttered and with one last look in gwen's direction, you quickly immersed into the water, diving through it and searching for a hint of the lost wheel. you had almost shrieked from happiness, when you really did make it out, right beneath you.
you jumped up from the surface, the treasure right in your hand "i got it!" you called and gwen looked up in surprise as you climbed out of the water.
the adrenaline rush was gone as quickly as it had come and you were shivering. "it's so cold" you stuttered.
gwen quickly pulled the jacket over your shaking form, while she was holding her phone to her ear. "she is shaking, so much. i don't know what to do" she spoked into it.
"who are you talking to?" you asked, while you felt like icicles were growing on your whole body
gwen didn't answer you. she just watched you worriedly, while she gently made you sit on the bench. then she took off her jacket and put it over yours.
"what are you doing?" you once again went unanswered.
"when are you going to be here?" gwen asked into the phone.
"now" a voice behind you said, which prompted both you and gwen to turn around.
"peter" you exclaimed in surprise.
"y/n" peter was by your side in a second "what were you thinking?" he seemed to be more asumed than angry, which was a relief to you.
"i wanted to surprise you"
"well, you did just that" he pointed to his backpack "i brought fresh clothes and the suit, come on" he took your hand. "are you getting home?" he asked gwen, who nodded and waved you both goodbye.
peter walked you to a toilet nearby so you could change, when you came out, spiderman was already waiting for you. he swung you both through new york, until you arrived at his place.
after you had showered and changed into your pyjamas, peter was ready for you to explain what had been going on earlier.
"i'm sorry you had to come and get me" you apologized "i was stupid"
"it's no problem" peter assured "by why the hell did you decide to go swimming at the end of december?"
"because of you" you smiled. you could almost see the question marks popping up beside peter's head, so you opened your bag, taking out the wheel and holding it in his direction.
"a skateboard wheel?"
"the skateboard wheel you lost when we ran into each other"
"it was still there?"
"yup" you smiled "just at the bottom of the pond"
"you're an idiot" peter shook his head "you risked your own health to get me this?"
"of course" you shrugged "you would've done the same for me"
peter smiled and got up from the bed. the next second he was holding a book in your direction.
"the book-"
"- i ruined when we met, yeah" peter nodded "it's even signed, i got it off ebay"
you laughed "this is so much better than my stupid idea"
"well" peter said shrugging "i might not have nearly died while getting this, but i'd say your gift is pretty amazing too. thank you, even if you are an idiot"
you laughed "luckily you came and saved me"
"i'd always save you"
taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess
101 notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 6 months
Text
I have so much temptation for Jason in the Dies Irae Au to meet Fright Knight. There is so much temptation to write them meeting in general.
Also remind me to ramble more about this au later, and to finish the in-universe memes I've been working on lol
61 notes · View notes
cheaptaxidermy · 3 months
Text
Glenn Close and Kian Stone, same person in different fonts
Tumblr media
no but like theyre both phoney rockstars who love weed that get sort of revived like there is a surprising amount of similarities
also peter sqloint and henry oak chatting (theyre talking about rocks)
Tumblr media
jrwi and dndads crossover requested by @hiigueslol :] (lmk if you want me to untag)
23 notes · View notes
nftdaisy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
no.1
i can live without you now, but i’m not sure if it’s living.
179 notes · View notes
sounwise · 2 years
Text
Paul’s Christmas gift to his fellow Beatles [in 1965] was an acetate disc of a radio-style show that he’d taped at home featuring music tracks by artists he thought they should take note of, linked by Paul speaking in the style of a New York DJ. “It was something crazy, something left-field just for the Beatles . . . that they could play late in the evening,” he later explained. “It was called Unforgettable and started with Nat King Cole’s ‘Unforgettable.’ It was like a magazine programme full of weird interviews, experimental music, tape loops and some tracks that I knew the others hadn’t heard.” He was clearly hinting at the direction the Beatles might go when they reconvened in the studio, offering the sort of rich palette from which they might choose. Besides “Unforgettable” and the experimental sounds there was “Down Home Girl” by the Rolling Stones, “Don’t Be Cruel” by Elvis, Martha and the Vandellas singing “Heat Wave,” the Beach Boys with “I Get Around,” and the Peter and Gordon LP track “Someone Ain’t Right.” Reflecting on the record selection a few months later George said, “It was a peculiar overall sound. John, Ringo and I played it and realized Paul was on to something new. Paul has done a lot in making us realize that there are a lot of electronic sounds to investigate. If we’re in the studio we don’t mentally think that this is the Beatles making a new hit LP or single. It’s just us, four blokes with some ideas, good and bad, to thrash out.”
[—from Beatles ’66: The Revolutionary Year, Steve Turner]
244 notes · View notes
bullet-prooflove · 1 year
Text
Long Distance: Peter Stone x Reader
Tumblr media
Tagging: @plaidbooks @misscharlielulu @caracalwithchips @storiesofsvu @magic-multicolored-miracle @htariq @readingbookelf @cosmic-psychickitty @crazy4chickennuggets @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @1234-angelika @mysoulisasunflower @luckyladycreator2 @kabloswrld @xoxabs88xox @bport76
“You could come with me.” You whispered against Peter’s lips as you lay tangled up together beneath his sheets. His fingertips caressed the line of your jaw, his thumb chasing over the apple of your cheek as he looked into your eyes and spoke.
“You know that I can’t.”
New York was a step back for him. He had spent his whole life running from his father’s shadow, from the burdens the other man placed upon his shoulders. When he had moved to Chicago, he had been burying his childhood memories, reinventing himself. To go back would be undoing all of his hard work.
Choosing to be a prosecutor in Chicago felt like he was openly defying his father, an example of how the older man could have done better. He had always had a strong sense of justice, he wanted to prove that you didn’t have to play the politics, that there were other ways to help the people that needed it. His decisions were always focused on the law, he never shirked the guidelines and his conviction record spoke for itself. He played hardball in court, he knew that defence attorneys dreaded facing him because it meant they had to work harder, be smarter about their cases.
In the past you had told him that his dedication and fierce intelligence had been what attracted you to him in the first place. He didn’t settle for second best; he came out swinging from the get-go and you admired that. At the end of the day, he could hold his head high and say he had done his job to the best of his ability. He could sleep ay night knowing that, and on the nights that he couldn’t when the cases he lost haunted him…
He called you.
“I always like to check.” You whispered, your lips grazing across the corner of Peter’s mouth.
You didn’t make your desire for Peter to return to New York a secret, secrets had a way of festering, and you were always honest with him. You hoped that one day he would, but you didn’t apply any pressure, it was the way the relationship worked. Your career was important to you and Peter would never try to push you into moving to Chicago.
Peter watched as you slipped out from underneath the sheets and sauntered towards the bathroom. There wasn’t a part of you he didn’t adore, everything from the scars that adorned your skin to the freckle on your left ass cheek. You were confident in yourself, in your decisions, your choices and Peter craved that. It was one of the things that had attracted him to you in the first place. You didn’t give a shit what anybody else thought, you were true to yourself, and Peter craved that. He collapsed back into his pillows and stared at the ceiling as he heard the shower turn on. You were leaving in just a few hours, and he knew he would miss you fiercely. Maybe it was time to consider his options.
“Are you going to join me?” You called out from the bathroom.
Peter thought of you stepping underneath the heated water, your hands pushing your hair back away from your face as the water cascaded over your curves. He wanted this, he wanted to experience this each and every morning instead of snatched pieces of time over weekends, the two of you had off. Which, by the way, were becoming few and far between.
He stared at the closed bathroom door, and he knew he had to make a choice.
Love Peter Stone? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
73 notes · View notes
transcicle · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
who up getting autistic over a podcast theyve never seen
more under cut idk if theyll format or not... beware
some of these i just did some of these are old
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
some of these are the drawing style thing i did sooo.... in order... : FIRST THROUGH FOURTH IMAGE peter drew those :-) FIFTH rumi drew that one :-) SIXTH exandroth drew those :-) SEVENTH peter drew that one :-) self portait EIGHTH rumi [bad at art edition] both NINE and TEN i dont remember if they were ment to be peter or just me goofin... so picjk ur poison LOL ELEVEN thats peter LAST THREEEE meeeeee :3 9-10 and 12-14 are the older ones everything else i did last night / this mornin'
#jrwi#jrwi apotheosis#angelstone#sqlumi#................i prefer sqlumi.... why did name it angel stone thats like exandroth + peter not rumi + peter its confusing to me#im sorry i watched the angelstone cut like half a year ago#IM SOOO AUTISTIC ABOUT THEM YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA MAN YOU HAVE NO CLUE SOSHAKSHLSXHLDHDJDJKRKFKF#i cant contain it anymorw im going to post my cringe#quite a few of these ones are from my little handwriting drawing things where i make up their handwriting and art style tee hee#i think rumi either SUCKS ASS at drawing or can decently draw in an anime esque style#i imagine peter has a lil bit of artistic abilities... he did paint a ton of mug paintings if i remember right????#he aint the best but he can do it#thanatos has 0 skill because he has never drawn anything ever until this hypothetical situation where theyre drawing and writing this all#exandroth adapts peters skill to an extent#peter tries to follow the rules taught to him about writing as a child to a T soooo he has generally neat handwriting if hes thinking abt i#but if hes tired or just out of it idk#you cant get one word man that shit is just complete chicken scratch even he cant figure it out sometimes LOOLLLL#rumi also has very neat handwriting HOWEVER i love the idea that she hams it up to be really swirly like that one girl in elementary#thanatos is very stiff and neat might as well just be font...#exandroth is either writing in full caps or alternating between whatever ver of a letter he wants to write at any time#VERY heavy handed and goes over every line like 3 times#when writing his name EVERYTIME he writes exandroth archangel of retribution everytime#if you guys wanna see what i have so far.... you can ask.... hehe#theyre my ocs at this point man i havent seen the damn campaign#i would just make them my ocs but my brain immediately loses interest whenever i do that uuuuggghhhhg#i mean i have a beast moomin furry thing peter and an object oc peter bur#*but like idk#btw i have like waaayyy more to say but i reached tag limit <////333 tumblr hates autistic people real#ill just retype it all in the next post ^.^*#archive
15 notes · View notes
punch-love · 8 months
Text
love that wade only fucks bad bitches (vanessa, shiklah, and cable) and then there’s peter
21 notes · View notes
theaawalker · 3 months
Text
His Little Lamb [ HARRY OSBORN ]
chapter II. friends
Tumblr media
Pairing: Harry Osborn x Demetra Jones Series: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Song Inspo: Perfect by One Direction Word Count: 1,001 Summary: Demetria Jones is your classic model citizen. Smart, helpful, organized, sophisticated, and above all innocent. But that changes when she gets a new boss, Harry Osborn. She's not looking for trouble, but that might be what she's in for. Unless, maybe, she can change Harry... that is, if he doesn't change her first. Warnings: mentions of workplace abuse, forced proximity Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)
I did as Harry... I mean... Mr. Osborn requested and documented every file on the list. I hadn't seen him since his departure at the board meeting yesterday. Nevertheless, I wanted to make sure I actually did my job. So I stopped by his office and dropped off said paperwork. Much to my annoyance, he wasn't in there. It was his second day as CEO of OsCorp and he hadn't even bothered to show up.
        This was gonna be a long day.
        I marched out of his office to the elevators and began to dial Menken. He was in charge whenever Norman was gone, which usually meant an occurrence of verbal harassment for me. I knew with Harry's absence I couldn't get any work done because I had no further orders. I considered following my usual orders, but those existed under Norman Osborn's authority. Now that his son was in charge, I had no sense of direction. Which was ironically proven when I then bumped into one of the elevator doors.
        I pushed the bottom button and put the phone to my ear. As I waited for the doors to open, I listened to my phone ring before going to voicemail. So I hung up and proceeded to dial again as the doors finally opened and I boarded. Once again it rang and there was no answer. I groaned, removing the phone from my ear. Then suddenly...
        "Hi again!" Said a voice from behind me, making me jump. I covered my mouth mid-scream and quickly spun around to see the source. Low and behold, it was Harry Osborn. "I'm sorry." We both apologized.
        "I didn't mean to scare you." He spoke first, extending his hand to me worrisomely.
        "No, no. It's fine." I gasped as I clutched my heart. "My fault. I didn't see you."
        He watched me catch my breath, his eyes a sparkly turquoise from the luminous rooms behind the elevator glass. "I'm... I'm Harry Osborn." He introduced himself, putting a hand on his chest. 
        "Yeah, I know who you are." I cleared my throat, my voice now professional. "I was in the board meeting."
        "That's right, you were the one I promoted." Harry beamed as he recalled the memory.
        I chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Like you were serious." I waved him off.
        "Actually, yes." He stated rather authentically. I stared at his face and sure enough it read seriousness. And here I was trying to get ahold of Menken because I thought he was still my superior. Harry must've seen the shock in my face because he began to smirk. I suppose he was amused by the impact of his own power.
        "What's your name again?" He asked, nodding to me.
        "Demetria. Demetria Jones." I lifted my head as I reintroduced myself.
        "Demetria..." My name flew out of his mouth with an unnecessary softness. Harry tilted his head and bit his lower lip, still smirking. I gulped as I stared at its pinkness under his teeth, not sure what else to do. "Tell me, Demetria." He continued. "What's a little lamb like you doing in a wolf den like OsCorp."
        I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by the question. But.. did he seriously just call me a 'little lamb'?
        "Uhhh, well, for one, I enjoy my work here. I was a huge fan of your father's. I can appreciate a business that's working to make the world a better place. And, uh, I good salary never hurt anyone." I joked, shrugging.
        Harry just stood there and listened, not uttering a word. And once I was done, he nodded. "So you were a fan of my father? Well, that makes one of us." I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so I didn't say anything. For a moment, both of us were silent.
        Then Harry leaned off the wall and stepped towards me. We were now standing face-to-face a foot apart. He wasn't that much taller than me, perhaps an inch or two. However, height-wise our eyes actually aligned perfectly. That being said, I still felt his presence hovering over me. "Since I'm your boss now, we should keep in contact." He gestured to my phone.
        I could feel his warm breath on me as he spoke, and I wondered if he could feel mine. "Um, sure." I responded before punching in his number as he recited it to me. Once he was done, I hit save to make it official.
        "I look forward to working you, Demetria." Harry said, making my fingers freeze. I gazed away from my screen and looked at him. I wasn't sure if he had gotten closer, but it certainly felt like he did. He wore a blank expression with his mouth hanging slightly agape. His marble eyes stared into mine, and mine into his. Neither one of us said anything, which was strangely comforting. We stayed like that for what seemed like awhile.
        Suddenly, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, making us break eye contact. In an instant, what was once comfortable had now become awkward. We exchanged embarrassed glances as Harry slowly backed up and I gathered myself to leave. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Osborn." I gave an awkward smile and stepped out.
        "Call me Harry." He raised an eyebrow, smirking suggestively. "We're friends now, aren't we?" 
        Then, as if on cue, the doors closed, leaving me completely stunned and confused. I wasn't quite sure of what had just happened, but I didn't have time to process it because my phone started to ring. Without reading the ID, thoughtlessly I answered it. 
        "Hello? Who is this?" Menken huffed into the phone.
        "...Demetria Jones," I replied, my eyes glued to the elevator.
        "Oh." He groaned before pausing. "...Well, what do you want?"
        With a big smile and a bolt of realization, I told him exactly what I wanted. "Kiss my *ss!"
• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •
If you enjoyed this imagine :
follow me 🫂 like 👍 comment 🗨 repost 🔄
If you have an imagine request :
ask❓️AND tip 🪙
9 notes · View notes
jellycolors · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝘨𝘸𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘴𝘥
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 / 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞
𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭
270 notes · View notes
lazlolullaby · 10 months
Text
Peter Quill with auditory hallucinations, that he "drowns out" with music. End post.
23 notes · View notes
tinkerbelldetective · 10 months
Text
Thunk.
Ben blinks in confusion at the sensation of something lightly tapping against his back.
Thunk. Thunk.
Turning around, he is assaulted with burnt popcorn kernels. Behind his couch comes the sound of hushed laughter.
"Peter?"
The laughter gets louder in response before a louder hushing sound ends it.
Ben observes the end of an episode of Mr. Rogers as he unbuttons his shirt sleeves, trying to hide the growing amusement when he sees his son's hair sticking up from behind the leather couch.
"Alright, come here," he orders, bracing himself for the rushing object that shoots out from behind the sofa, crashing into his arms. His son has dirt on his cheeks and dust on his pants, and the smell of summertime play now unmistakably noticeable. Ben Stone tightly hugs the 9 year old boy, ruffling his hair when his son lets go.
"You're a real mess, Peter." Ben runs his thumb across the dirt smear on Peter's left cheek, unable to not smile as his son grins at him, one tooth only halfway grown in. He gently slaps his boy's shoulder before continuing, "Go get washed up."
"Can we watch a movie?"
"I'll think about it."
For a moment, disappointment crosses over Peter's face before he takes off to his room.
Ben turns his gaze back to the sofa, still amused.
"One out of two."
3 notes · View notes
charliesmydarling · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
angelamontoo · 1 year
Note
Which Lorre characters (besides Joel and Herman) do you headcanon as lgbtq+? I personally see The General as pansexual, Lorentz being queer and having a relationship with Professor Billings after the events of the film, and Polo gives off he/they energy to me lol
Oooh good question! Short answer is that tbh, all of them
As someone who doesn't really have any preference towards any gender, I like the idea of pretty much every Lorre character either being similarly indifferent to their potential partners gender or gay. Very big agree about Arthur being queer. Not only do I think he and Nathaniel went on to have a relationship, I've long held the belief that since they've known eachother, they've bounced around from being friends, to rivals, to lovers, to bitter exes, to friends again, to business partners, to enemies, to friends with benefits, to frenemies with benefits and on and on it goes
I like the idea of Fenninger being gay and either being in a relationship with both Mainwaring and Saliano or only mainwaring and Saliano is just kinda there as a third wheel lol
Very interesting about Polo being He/they. Personally, I don't tend to come up with my own original trans headcanons very much since I'm cis and I'm worried about being disrespectful, but I love seeing others trans and gender related HCs for Petes characters and other characters from his films. The biggest exception to that rule is Mr Munsey, who I kinda like to imagine as being transmasc or gender fluid and maybe the reason Hager didn't immediately recognise him despite their obvious history is that he didnt present/identify as male for any of the time that Hager originally knew him
5 notes · View notes
katluke25 · 1 year
Text
Another Update!
Hey Guys!! I want to say I’m so sorry for not update for so long. Life and Work have been crazy and super busy, I never have the strength to write any of my stories. BUT! I have Inspiration now to try to finish my Elton Castee story I have been working for a really long while. As for my other stories, I need Inspiration to write them again and that will takes more time. My Elton Castee story should be up by two days or more. Thank you guys for understanding!!!!
3 notes · View notes