#and is trying to subtly signal to the staff that no. we will not be dredging the lake. leave it to me i'll Distract him

[ploffskinpluffskin]

well i think operation: draw natori during a deteriorating cat kingdom meeting is off to a great start

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

physics and english teacher love affair

pairing: ps5!peter parker x fem!reader

wc: 1.5k

warnings: none. squeaky clean, just happy fluff

summary: those two teachers that students are always interested in their relationship status.

A/N: guess this could be for any spidey, but i’m just really falling for ps5 peter and there’s like a hand full of fics for him. not fair!

masterlist / peter parker

working at the same high school with your boyfriend is harder than it looks. the two of you try to stay professional during schooling hours, not needing the staff or students in your business. but hearing miles tell you and peter, “people are very invested in your interactions,” made both of you realize you weren’t very good at keeping a low profile.

-

instance 1

“okay…jaime! your take on the dream sequence. what does it tell you?” looking to the male student near the back. he was dozing off a bit earlier so this was a wake-up call.

he floundered a bit, “uh, uh…the dream sequence…it’s a- a dream?” light giggles filled the classroom at the foolish answer.

a gentle sigh from your lips, “yes, jaime. but do you see any significance to our story?” being patient with him as he flipped through his book and packet, “uh…”

and before he could joke or stall, your door opened drawing all eyes to the popping in head. “sorry for interrupting,” peter apologized to the students then you. “

a wavering smile. “it’s fine. jaime,” the boy looked startled, “a few minutes to find an answer and then give me something. please.”

you looked over to peter again and waved him in. the door closed with a soft clink behind him, his steps thudded lightly against the linoleum tile. both of you exchanged delicate smiles as peter sat on the edge of your desk.

“what’s the occasion?” whispering low since his heightened hearing will pick you up. both of you tried to stay away from each other’s classrooms as much as possible, but the two of you were magnets, always attracted to each other.

peter shrugged, “nothing, just thought you would like to see me.” a playful tilt of his head.

a twitch of your lip, “and i thought we would only do that during our planning period.” subtly knocking your knuckles against his thigh. peter flashed a smile, “well, i also got you something, from our favorite bakery. if you want-“

“yes!” voice an excited yelp. the kids chattering came to a stop at your raised cry. you cleared your throat, “sorry. a few more minutes.” and they happily returned their gossip.

peter chuckled, “a little hurt you had more of a reaction for pastries than your awesome boyfriend.” you rolled your eyes, “well at work you’re my friendly co-worker.” “ew, gross.”

teeth biting into your bottom lip to stop a gleeful smile you made grabby hands for your treats. peter teasingly rolled his eyes while reaching into his backpack for your present. you had to hold your squeal in at the muffin and donut, mouth salivating at the sweet smell.

“i should head out. don’t want to stop your lesson.” making a move off your desk. you stopped him with a hand wrapped on his wrist, “wait, lean forward a bit.”

peter furrowed his brows as you urged him close, you ignored the dozen of eyes watching you both.

grabbing your lesson plan packet you covered both lower halves from curious eyes. “i love you. thank you for the sweets.” then blew peter an air kiss.

his cheeks pinked quickly and you cooed internally. peter sent a kiss back before swinging his bag onto his shoulders and waving goodbye to your students.

when he left the room you clapped your hands to signal order back. “okay, jaime. figure out an answer?”

“is mr. parker your boyfriend?” a girl, ashley, blurted out.

the class froze along with you. you took a moment to take stock of the abruptness before replying, “it’s rude to blurt out questions and second, no he isn’t.” heart cracking a little at the white lie, “but that’s none of your business, ashley.”

-

instance 2

the day before christmas break peter decided to play the class home alone. kids either watching the movie, chatting with friends, playing card games from out of nowhere, or just napping away the last hour of the school day.

peter and miles were sat at his desk, talking about the latest on spider-man. miles was in the middle of talking about a gang bust from the other night when multiple students said, “hi, mrs. l/n.”

peter and miles stopped talking to see you enter the classroom, waving to a few students who had seen you earlier in the day.

you walk up to peter’s cluttered desk, “hi boys.” stealing his rolling stool so you can join them. in the dark peter loop his right arm behind your back before pulling you in close, lips spreading into wide love struck smiles.

“how’s my best girl?”

a content sigh, “so excited for a week off. can’t wait to do coupley holiday stuff and also celebrate hanukkah with you. miles,” turning to the junior, “any plans with your time off?”

miles talked about how he was gonna visit hailey’s family for the first time. “really nervous, don’t want to mess things up.”

“you won’t, they’ll love you.” washing away his worries as peter’s fingers drummed on your waist.

“your great with parents and plus you’ve gotten a lot better at your asl. earn you brownie points.” peter affectionately punched miles’s bicep.

“what was may’s first impression on you?” miles turned the conversation around.

you perked up as the memory flashes to mind. you glance at peter and he has a look on his face, already knowing what you’ll say.

“well may opened the door and as i was introducing myself she interrupted with “oh! you must be y/n. peter can’t keep your name out his mouth for longer than two minutes. i’ve timed it. that boy is deeply in love with you, just don’t tell him i’ve said that, he’ll be a blubbering mess.” and i didn’t tell him until he said i love you first.”

peter tucked his chin to his chest hiding away his flushed cheeks while miles covered his laughter.

you carded fingers through peter’s growing hair before leaving a peck on his cheek. “i’m gonna pack my things then come back. enjoy your break miles.”

-

instance 3

“mr. parker and ms. l/n are definitely a thing.”

miles heard the charter from across the lunch room at the mention of your names. he tried to look distracted with his homework to keep listening in.

“and what’s your proof this time?” a boy asked the girl.

“well one, i saw them leaving together when i had to stay late to help mr. johnson. they were laughing and smiling in that love sick way. also could totally tell they wanted to hold hands when they kept bumping them. and second, i saw them at the subway station-“

“so you stalked them?” a girl interrupted the retelling.

the storyteller sighed, “no i just happen to take the subway, like most of new york does. anyway, i don’t take the same train as them but i walked past them and they were now holding hands and then…” taking a dramatic pause before almost squealing, “they kissed!”

a bunch of girls joined in the yells and a few boys were like “holy shit!” and others like “whatever.”

miles stopped listening and just smirked down at his homework ready to tell peter this news.

-

instance 4 the final

you know the nosey students are gonna have a field day if they spot the new jewelry on your finger. a huge milestone has been made on a simple thursday during spring break.

“okay class. welcome back! if anyone wants to share a quick story about their break just raise your hand.” a couple shot up at lightning speed and then some more slowly.

you squint your eyes while humming, “emma. what did you do?” she went on a quick spiel about visiting her mother’s family in atlanta, also how she managed to snag tickets for a spa concert at the box office.

“girl i’m jealous. i wish i could see sza. okay… jaden! what’d you do?” he said he just stayed in the city and worked, hung out with his friends on his days off.

“already getting a taste of adult life. well i’m glad you made time to relax. uh final one is… ashley. how did you spend your break?”

“oh, nothing special. i just have a question for you and the new ring on your finger.” a sneaky smile appeared, exactly what you wanted. she’s been the most observant on your relationship.

“you may ask.” folding your hands so the stone reflected a bit of light.

“did mr. parker propose? is he your fiancé now?” and most of the girls in the room were practically vibrating in anticipation.

you smiled down the ring, fiddling with the band. you looked up and said calmly, “yes. mr. parker is my fiancé.”

and you could bet that peter heard all the commotion of your room from down the hall, already preparing for nosey teens to ask him a similar question.

both of you were just glad to proudly say the other was yours.

turns out working at the same high school as your fiancé isn’t gonna be so bad after all.

-

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — 004

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (0.5k words)

❥･• chapter 4 — dog-eater…?

"I can't believe you got lost searching for a vending machine," Minjung-unnie hurriedly drags Mai over to where we are in the waiting area. "I'm sorry! I just really need some sugar intake," Mai sheepishly scratches the back of her neck, visibly apologetic for making her members wait. You can tell that everyone is on edge, and rightfully so, considering the intense training that all of you have put into preparing for this moment.

You notice Mai shifting uncomfortably in her stage outfit, presumably affected by the tension that has somehow permeated the atmosphere of the girls. “It’s okay, just don’t run off by yourself again yeah?” You placed a reassuring pat on her shoulder, and Mai gratefully deflates into your touch.

"How do you look... fine? I'm literally about to throw up." Yuna turns to look at you, her voice barely above a whisper but instead of replying to her, you shot Yuna a teasing smile only to have her jokingly roll her eyes at you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous, you dreamt of this moment for as long as you have been training for it, imagining yourself confidently answering questions with poise and charm.

Now, facing the reality of being in the spotlight, a mix of excitement and anxiety consumes you. Even with a meticulously memorised script from yesterday, you can't help but feel the churning in your stomach, finding solace in having skipped lunch that day.

The corridors echo with the hurried footsteps of the production staff, their voices mingling with the hum of electronic equipment. You watch as Sunghoon and Wonyoung meticulously rehearse their lines, ensuring they are well-prepared for any anomalies that may occur.

Your heart nearly drops to the pits of your stomach when the production staff directs you and your group to make your way onto the tiny platform they have squeezed into the box set. Subtly, you share a smile with Sunghoon as you walk past him up the steps. "Nervous?" he asks, noticing your trembling hands. You nod in response.

"Don't be, just stick to the script and you'll do amazing."

"Not if I have the tendency to somehow screw things up."

"You're being dramatic," Ray sarcastically cuts into your conversation but call it leader instincts or whatever, you just know she's probably the most freaked out one among the rest of you. Proven right, when you feel her fingers finding their way up your arm, tugging onto them.

"You got this Ray, no sweat." You jokingly dig your fingers into the sides of her ribcage and you giggle as she shoots you a warning glare, “I'll eat your dog alive." She threatens and you swear you caught an offended gasp escaping from both Sunghoon's and Wonyoung's lips.

"Please excuse her, I swear she's not a dog-eater." Sunghoon laughs as he watches you desperately trying to explain the questionable humour your bandmate held, and Wonyoung subtly giggles behind her cue cards. You mentally curse Ray in your head for once again having no filter when you hear the director signal for all of you to stand by.

With a steady voice, you begin to deliver your lines, relying on the script that you had so diligently memorized. Occasionally, you catch glimpses of the production crew's reactions, their smiles, and nods of approval driving the initial jitters to give way to growing confidence, buoyed by the energy of the moment.

prev | masterlist | next

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i’ll try my best to not include as much written portions in this smau but we’ll see 😁

taglist! open @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @hoon0logy

[aboardthescheherazade]

Part 2 to the Rastapopoulos timeline post. I call these two the "Ironic End" and the "Bad End":

Ironic end: After the events of Flight 714 to Sydney, an amnesiac traveller wakes up on the beach of a tropical island. The locals take him in, and they figure out just enough to know he's probably from the Mediterranean; maybe he fell off a migrant ship, but there haven't been any travelling worker ships in the area recently. Eventually, he puts together some kind of new name, and begins working at the docks to make a living. He's drawn to a handful of things - ships and new movies, mainly - but nothing clear ever comes through. He lives the last years of his life as a short-tempered but nice-enough port foreman who mostly keeps to himself outside of work. His coworkers in town mourn him, but over time, he just fades away into the rest of the island's history.

Bad end: Playing yet another role, and likely having gone through some degree of ego death, "Endaddine Akass" emerges in the tropics as a spiritual advisor and art collector. His "practices" are mostly just a mishmash of Christianity, Islam, Daoism, and Rastafarianism. He gets underground plastic surgery to subtly alter his face just enough to be able to appear in the media without someone recognizing mugshots from his "past life". Rastapopoulos has found a new way to worm his way into the public zeitgeist, and all it took was completely sacrificing his identity and his dignity. This design came about while talking with ProfCal...his Alph-Art version would take place during the late 1930s-early 40s, and it got me thinking about a period-accurate Endaddine Akass. I adapted a number of details from Herge's speculative design, most notably the faux third eye, and the sort-of Magen David at the top of his staff. I can tell it's not meant to outright signal Judaism; I see it as an example of 20th Century western esoterism's rampant cultural appropriation (i.e. he'd probably try to claim it's a hexagram symbolizing elements, or something), plus, it's regionally accurate: the Magen David is an important piece of iconography in Rastafarianism. It was a very new religion in the late 1930s, which would make Akass fairly predatory for stealing aspects of Rastafarian imagery. (We also considered him pretending to be White Jamaican, accent and all, which would go to show how far "Akass" is willing to humiliate his old self just to live as a debutante. Have you ever heard Steven Seagal pretend to be Jamaican? That's what we're dealing with here)

Regardless of the ending you choose to follow, I still tried to make either of them relatively within Herge's writing style. He was fond of using big finales, and themes of karma and turnabout, so I considered both of these when pondering Rastapopoulos's fate at the end of the Tintin series. (I have thought way too much about Rastapopoulos, I know. The shmuck haunts me like an awful poltergeist ^^;)

[summer-fun-swim]

The sun hung high in the clouds, shimmering like a diamond on the turquoise surface of the indoor hotel pool. My brother, Owen, and I had been cooped up in our room for most of the day, and boredom had driven us to the pool, a vast expanse of shimmering water framed by vibrant green plants and luxurious lounge chairs. I couldn't resist the draw of the water, especially after a long car ride to this idyllic holiday destination.

“Come on, Phil! Jump in!” Owen announced, his enthusiasm infectious as he adjusted his baseball cap. He wore a printed grey T-shirt that clung to his form, short sleeves rolled up, revealing his lean arms. His blue jeans hugged his legs, soaked straight through as he had already made a few playful dives into the pool. Even from the edge, I could see droplets swirling off him like tiny diamonds in the air.

I stood at the edge, hesitating. I tugged at the hem of my signal green sweatshirt, the fabric warm and slightly damp from the humidity in the area. I had thought it wise to keep it on, not realizing that the whole point of coming to the pool was to soak up the thrill of the water. My jeans, fitted and slightly distressed at the knees, felt comfortable but heavy as the warmth of the sun lured me closer to the water’s edge.

“Fine!” I called out, unable to resist any longer. I was usually the cautious one, but today the playful spirit of my brother was enough to lift my inhibitions. I took a running start and leaped into the water, feeling the cool embrace wrap around me like a refreshing blanket.

The shock was exhilarating. The moment I hit the water, it enveloped me completely, pulling me into its embrace, my heart racing, drowning out the laughter and splashes around me. I came up for air, hair slicked back and droplets glistening on my skin like jewels. I shook my head, flinging water away, and looked to see Owen laughing heartily at my splashing.

We spent the next hour playing games in the water, racing each other and torpedoing across the surface. I loved that feeling—weightless, energized, carefree. My sweatshirt clung to my torso, the fabric soaked and streamlined, while my jeans embraced my legs, pulling them down subtly as they absorbed the water. With each movement, I felt the tug of the fabric against my skin, a reminder of the outside world that seemed to dissolve into laughter and bliss.

There was something hypnotic about the repetitive rhythm of splashing water and our playful banter, but it wasn’t long before a sudden chill ran down my spine. I turned towards the edge of the pool, the scenery before me suddenly seeming foreign and surreal. The gleam of the tiles on the wall caught my eye, reflecting the fluorescent lights above, and then I spotted them.

A group of hotel staff had gathered at the far end of the pool area, chatting and laughing. They looked like they were supposed to be on break, but now their eyes were trained on Owen and me. I felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness wash over me, and I instinctively pulled at the hem of my soaked sweatshirt—fruitless, of course, as it provided very little coverage against the wetness.

Owen, ever the brazen one, raised his hands. “Hey, everyone! Come join us!” he shouted, splashing water toward the group in a playful, heartily offensive gesture. I could see a couple of heads turning toward us, laughter mixing with the sound of splashing water.

“Stop it, Owen!” I shouted, half-embarrassed and half-amused. “They’re not going to jump in with us!”

Just as he turned to catch my eye, a loud slap echoed off the cool tile walls. A young-aged man in swim trunks and polo shirt stood just outside the pool area, arms crossed, his expression a blend of mock amusement and disapproval.

“Are you boys trying to start an impromptu swim party?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Behind him, the rest of the staff chuckled, clearly amused but also somewhat annoyed. There was something delightfully mischievous about the exchange, and I could feel my cheeks warming.

Owen surged towards the edge, climbing out of the water and dripping with confidence. “Absolutely! What do you guys say? We can have a blast! No costumes required!”

The laughter from the staff was infectious, and even I found myself chuckling as I swam closer to Owen, water streaming off the sleeves of my sweatshirt, the fabric dragging me down with its weight. But the chill of the situation—the realization we’d captured attention and might have crossed an unspoken boundary—sent a wave of uncertainty through me.

As I made my way out of the water, droplets cascaded off my body, the wet clothes clinging to my skin, making every step an exercise in embarrassment. The fabric of my jeans molded perfectly to my legs, outlining every contour, and the sweatshirt, now completely soaked, felt several sizes smaller.

“Whoa, dude!” one of the hotel staff said, looking unabashedly at me, eyes widening in surprise mixed with amusement. “You both really went all-in, huh?”

“We just had a little fun,” Owen replied, unabashed, as he struck a faux model pose, showcasing his own soaked attire. His t-shirt clung tightly, hugging his chest, while the jeans hung low, water pooling at his feet. The carefree vibe both of us projected took the edge off the embarrassment.

“Next time we’ll make sure to wear some appropriate swimwear!” I added hastily, hoping to defuse any lingering tension. The laughter spread, breaking down the remaining walls of uncertainty, and I began to feel buoyed by the light-hearted energy surrounding us.

The laughter continued to ripple through the pool area, each passing moment turning my earlier embarrassment into a cherished memory. The sunlight spilling in from the large windows bathed us all in warmth, and for the rest of the afternoon, Owen and I laughed and played, splashes echoing amid playful taunts and camaraderie.

As I looked towards my brother, a sense of gratefulness washed over me. This little holiday was turning into something far more than I had anticipated—a bonding experience with my brother that I knew I would cherish long after the wet clothes had dried.