#its like what pete said.. you will never feel how you felt again when you heard x song for the first time

[fob4ever]

i get so intensely nostalgic every time i re-enter my fob phase (happens every 18 months) but its truly like.. ab/ap was such a huge part of my formative teenage years it is so cliche but it was basically the soundtrack to it. or whatever like EVERYONE at the time was listening to it and all my friends loved it and we'd debate our favourite songs and sing uma thurman really loudly and we'd all huddle on my friend's twin sized bed and watch fob music videos on a tiny laptop screen and it was truly the first album i ever actually truly loved. like felt it in my bones and body and heart and everything sappy inbetween. and i think its so special and awesome that i get to live the grown-up version of that now, in 2023, as a new fob era comes.. im going to shows this year! im taking friends who have never seen fob before ever! my friends play fob when im in their car because they know its my favourite. im falling in love with the new fob songs the same way i did so many years ago... i dont know. its so special to be able to live a familiar experience in a brand new way. its so special!!!!!!

[yujeong]

Pete's fever wasn't going down. It wasn't really Pete's fault. He had started eating more regularly, even if slowly to not upset his stomach. (He didn't want to vomit his insides all over the duvet again. It hadn't been a pleasant experience.) He had started sleeping more, too, and even though it had mostly been accompanied by disturbing dreams and could be described as anything but nourishing, at least it was something. This wasn't really Vegas' fault, either. Well. It was. It was difficult to explain, and Pete didn't quite have the mental capacity or the patience to make Vegas understand why he hadn't magically healed in a day thanks to a bowl of noodles, a couple of pills and some bandages wrapped around his torso. In all honesty, that was a lie. Despite Pete's reluctance to admit it, he had been way more patient that he should have. More than he could sustain. Today, his patience seemed to be at its limit. Pete didn't let it show - he never did, he couldn't afford to, not even now - but he could feel it brewing under his skin. The urge to snap at an anxious Vegas hovering above him with blood-shot eyes and trembling limbs was big and tempting, but Pete knew better than to succumb to it. He simply closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, trying to forget about it. Vegas, of course, wouldn't allow that. "Pete," he heard Vegas whisper. When he didn't respond, Vegas said it again, louder. "Pete. Hey, look at me." Pete did. "Do you not hate me?" Pete didn't answer. "Don't you want to kill me?" Pete sighed. He refused. H wouldn't give Vegas the satisfaction. "How would you do it?" This was starting to get irritating. "Vegas-" "Tell me, Pete. What would you do? Would you use your hands or a weapon?" Pete couldn't escape this. He realized when he looked at the pure desperation in Vegas' eyes. "I'm a bodyguard, aren't I?" he foolishly said, his voice breaking slightly. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. He could picture it; him wearing his uniform, blowing Vegas' brains out with his gun. The image brought him no satisfaction. Only a faint sense of dread he couldn't rationalize. Vegas' humming snapped him out of it. "Yes, I can see that. I can't imagine you using a knife, though." Pete felt slightly offended by that comment for some reason. "Why? Don't you think I have the guts?" "It's too... emotional a choice for you. You wouldn't use it to kill me." Right. Pete huffed in amusement. "I guess you're right. I'm not like you." This did the trick. Pete could feel the effect of his words, the hostility Vegas was emitting. It gave him goosebumps, despite the temperature of the room. The sound of the door closing harshly made him flinch, a racing heartbeat remaining for a while afterwards. It didn't bother him. He was finally left alone. It didn't matter if he'd manage to get better or not. If only Vegas could see that.

(A snippet inspired by a scene in the movie "Eileen")

[bruisedboys]

congrats on 3k ml, so so proud of you, you deserve it and so much more! and if i haven’t said this sooner, i’m in love with your account and your writing is gorgeous, you’re just so incredibly talented, and aerial too <3

I was wondering if I could have KNIVES OUT please? i’ve been in a bit of a rut lately, not really feeling the best all of a sudden and was thinking of something comfort related with pete. maybe something with breathe (muse a holds muse b closely to help them wind down after a stressful day/event) and possibly with a bit of o4 (sender offers receiver an earbud to share their music), maybe as a way to say that they’re there for them without having to say the words and that they’re here to listen when they’re ready to talk?

thank you so much for considering my request and take your time. congratulations again on yet another milestone!

thank you for your request lovely! this was such a good one I loved writing it. and I hope u feel better soon angel!!! x

summary: peter helps you feel better after a bad day

gn!reader 0.9k words

You’re close to tears by the time you get to Peter’s. It’s been a hard day. Your heart hurts and your mind is tired and your body is unfortunately taking the toll. Your limbs ache and your head pounds. Plus, it’s raining, which never helps.

You let yourself in because he gave you a key months ago, along with a little spiderman keyring that you think is simultaneously awful and adorable. At least it makes you smile every time you look at it.

You shed your jacket and shoes at the door, hang your bag on the hook he’d added for you next to his. You can hear him in the kitchen, cutlery and pots and pans jostling around.

“Peter?” You call.

No response, but you think you can hear him humming. He must have his earbuds in.

You make your way to his tiny kitchen, with its overgrown plants that have managed to claim the entire windowsill, and the colourful mismatch of mugs collected over years of thrift shopping. Sure enough, Peter’s stirring something that smells like tomato soup at the stove, earbuds lodged in his ears, the wire threaded under his shirt and into his jeans pocket. He’s humming a song, head bopping as he stirs, and it makes your heart smile.

“Hi, Peter.”

Peter starts, then relaxes when he sees it’s you. A smile stretches across his face like a sunrise. Slow and beautifully warm and golden. He puts down his wooden spoon and takes out his earbuds, letting them dangle over his shirt collar.

“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name makes your chest ache. Like he was meant to say it. Like it’s his favourite word in the world. Like maybe he loves you more than you or him can even comprehend. “Hi, honey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

The corner of your mouth lifts in the whisper of a smile. “It’s okay,” you shrug. You peer at the rich red substance on the stove. “Is that tomato soup?”

Peter grins. “Yes, ma’am. I thought we’d have that and grilled cheese.” He strides across the floorboards until he’s right in front of you. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by how lovely and homely he looks. With his soft blue t-shirt, his hair all mussed, freckles glowing in the warm kitchen light. He smells like tomato and garlic and butter. He takes your face in one hand and drags his thumb over your cheekbone. “What d’you think?”

You almost forget what he was talking about in the first place. You blink, overwhelmed by his closeness, by the presence of him. He feels very safe. Safer than you’ve felt all day.

“Sounds good,” you say weakly. You know you sound funny. It hadn’t meant to come out that way, but you were already feeling bad and he’s come along and been so lovely that all of it combined is gonna make you cry.

Peter smiles again, and dips his head to kiss your forehead. His warmth is intoxicating. You want to hug him so badly it hurts. He pulls away, his hand still at your jaw, and he must catch the look on your face because his eyes are suddenly all concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly a little bit urgent. “You look sad. You’re not sick, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. Um, no, I’m not sick. I just, um.” You swallow. It’s hard to tell him, because you don’t want to ruin how happy he is. But you know he’d want you go tell him the truth. “I had a hard day today.”

Peter melts, makes a pitying noise that’s so nice your chest hurts. He takes your face in both hands now, and steps closer so his arms are lodged between your chests.

“Aw, baby. Why didn’t you call me, hm? I’d’ve picked you up earlier.”

You try to shake your head again but it’s hard when he’s got his hands all over your face.

“Pete, it’s okay,” you tell him. “It wasn’t anything in particular, really.” You shrug. It’s hard to explain, but you know he’s always patient with you so you don’t try to explain it all now. “I’m just happy I’m here now.”

Peter smiles at that. It’s pretty in its softness. Gentler than the big grins he gives you when you make a joke. Soft as warm butter. “I’m happy you’re here, too. Hey, you can stay that night, if you’d like. Would you like to?”

Just the thought of it makes you want to cry. He’ll probably talk to you later tonight about your day, help you get to the root of the problem and then work through a solution with you. He’s good at that.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you say, desperately trying not to give in to the growing urge to cry. Only, now you don’t know if it’s because you’re sad or happy. “That’d be nice.”

Peter hums as he drags his thumbs under your eyes, his skin calloused against the soft, velvety, skin there. He studied your face for a moment. Then,

“You want a hug?”

You smile. He knows you too well. “Yeah, please.”

He hugs you so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. Then he lets you share his earbuds and he puts on your favourite song while you stir the soup and he cooks up two grilled cheese in the pan. The earbud wire stretches dangerously and they fall out of your ears every two seconds, but it’s worth it to be next to him.

It’s safe to say your bad day is saved.

-

[stevenssacrab]

Chicken Noodle Soup

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: When you're feeling under the weather, Peter saves the day with some classic chicken noodle soup

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Reader is sick

Word Count: 0.7k

a/n: I'm feeling a little sick thus, this baby was born, wish I had a Peter to take care of me.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

You felt like shit and probably looked like it, this sickness was kicking your ass, and no amount of medication helped; you just had to let it run its course; you've been tossing and turning in bed, a thin layer of sweat covering your body but you felt like you were freezing to death, your nose red and raw from the constant sneezing and blowing, you lost track of how much aspirins you'd taken for the killer headache you had since you first started getting sick, with the constant pounding everything seemed way too bright, currently sucking on some halls, to soothe the irritation in your throat, your cheeks hollow, you haven't had the energy to eat much, you've lost a few pounds, and it showed in your face.

"Add chicken and let simmer for 10 minutes," Peter repeated to himself; following May's instructions, Peter grabbed the cutting board and rinsed, placing it on the drying rack, opening the cabinet, grabbed a medium-sized bowl, and carefully poured it into the bowl, taste testing it making sure it was perfect. He delicately held the bowl and placed it onto the tray, accompanied by a glass of orange juice and some saltine crackers. He cautiously walked to your bedroom; you were sleeping, your face contorted in discomfort; even in sleep, you couldn't find peace; he quietly placed the tray on your nightstand.

"Y/N, wake up; it's time to eat," Peter whispered and gently shook you awake; you groaned softly and opened your eyes, landing on Peter's sweet face; you smiled lightly; it didn't matter how you felt you were always happy to see Peter, your eyes shifted to the tray and your smile broadened, Peter never failed to impressive you, he had always been so thoughtful and caring, you hadn't asked him to make food in the first place, he came up with it all on his own, it's how you knew his heart is in the right place, you'd kiss him right now if it weren't for your current state.

"What's this?" you asked, smiling brightly at him. You reached for the tray, but Peter beat you to it, lightly placing the tray on your lap, "You made this?" you croaked out; this cold hasn't been easy on your voice and throat.

"I made it for you," Peter smiled bashfully, lifting a spoonful to your mouth; you accepted it happily and groaned loudly. Peter's eyes widened, fearing the worst, but you snatched the spoon out of Peter's hand and spooned more soup into your mouth; groaning again, Peter let out a hardy laugh, watching as you practically inhaled the soup.

"Here, drink some juice," he smiled brightly, handing you the glass; you eagerly grabbed the glass, almost drinking the whole thing in one go. You had no idea you were this hungry, but you felt this soup warm up your soul. It was so good.

"Ahh, man, that's good," you sighed happily, "great job, Pete, it's perfect," you beamed and then returned to inhaling the soup.

"I also brought some medication to help you, some DayQuil and NyQuil, and some Pedialyte," Peter said, pulling a ray of medications out of the little care package he made for you, " I want you to rest. I don't want you to do anything; I'll be here if you need anything, okay?" Peter questioned; you nodded your head.

"When did you make this?" You quizzed, dipping a saltine cracker into the soup; Peter grinned.

"I made it at home with May and heated it up when I got here," he said matter of factly.

'Is all this from scratch?'

"Yes, it's from scratch, down to the noodles," he beamed.

"I had no idea you could cook so well," you say, impressed further. Peter laughs in shock, "Oh no, thank May, she basically made the whole thing; I just added the chicken when I got here and heated it up," Peter says, slightly embarrassed, rubbing his neck sheepishly; you laugh lightly.

"It's okay, Peter. I still love it, and thank Aunt May," you smiled. Peter leaned into your touch, caressing the hand holding him, and kissed the inside of your palm; you smiled bashfully; you grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the broth, licking your lips, satisfied with your meal.

“Thank you, Pete, it was delicious,” you kissed his forehead; Peter grinned and held your hand.

“Okay, get some rest, baby,” he utters, lifting the tray from your lap and exiting the room; getting one last look in, you shift comfortably in your bed, sighing happily, already feeling ten times better.

[starcanwrecked-confessions]

Friendly reminder that not all of us are involved in drama. for example: i'm here, i'm neurodivergent and I really like perfume

Here's what lush perfume I think some Hatchetfield characters would wear any why they wear it:

Grace - breath of god - It caught her eye when she went shopping with ruth. She picked it up because of the name. She bought it because it smelled like the incense they burn at her church

Ethan - lord of misrule - It was a gift from Lex. He'd been having problem's at work, people leaving Tony bad reviews because Ethan worked there and smelled like w33d, and it was making him feel like a burden. Lex noticed the toll it was taking on him and gave him this to make life a bit easier for the Greens. After Ethan stopped working there, either because he just got a better one at some point after Lex and Hannah left or because the three of them got to California (depending on how delulu you're feeling - I'm going with the second option), he kept wearing it because it makes him think of Lex.

Becky - american cream - It's the same scent shes worn since high school. Tom said it suited her back then. Stanley said it was too sweet so she stopped wearing it while they were married. when she killed him, she started wearing it again. it felt like *her*. it reminded her of Tom.

Emma - 4:20PM - helps her get up in the morning.

Ziggs - breath of god - They used to go to a festival every year as a kid. It always smelled of incense (and w33d but they've got that covered). When they were looking for perfume that smelled like incence they stumbled across this online

Steph - rose jam - She and Pete both got help from an employee to pick out scents. she landed on this

Pete - vanillary - see above (I also think its funny that the perfume is really sweet and he has famously low blood sugar)

Ruth - lust - *the* lush lover of Hatchetfield. Picked it because of the name. Didn't even like the scent at first but she learned to love it the more she wore it.

Lex - 4:20PM - she, unlike Ethan, wants to smell even more like w33d because it pisses people off.

Linda - goddess - makes her feel powerful and mysterious (plus its really different from Becky's. might've been on purpose. might've not)

Richie - dirty - ironically the mint makes him feel fresher. It doesn't work on him though, he just sweats it off.

Hannah - new romantics - It smells a bit like oranges. she likes orange juice. what can you say? she saved up for it. plus Webby liked it so that's a bonus. she probrably also steals Ethan's from time to time. She's not allowed to wear Lex's.

Miss Holloway - ginger - has a lot of popular smells from the 80's within it. (totally forgot she was ginger herself when picking this out for her lol)

Deb - sappho - she and Alice got it to share because it's the lesbian perfume and that's funny. It turned out to not be Alice's thing but Deb loved it.

Alice - love - she just likes it. Deb did say it smelled as lovely as she is tho so its special now.

Charlotte - Shade - Sam bought it for her for an anniversary. She hates it but she wears it anyway. Sam never notices. I feel like she would rlly like alina tho!

-🛼 ( i cant tell if thats showed up right- currently not on my normal device - but it's the roller skate)

~~~

[deathofacupid]

worry | peter parker

tw: none

it's pure fluff

summary: you can never seem to stop worrying.

bro i never know what to write with fluff so sorry in advance if its short

pls send in requests on my request pageeee i'm running out of inspo and i've only started thissss

candles were dimly lit, with the fairy lights on the lowest setting. the aroma of lavender and sage was swirling around the room, making you sigh contently. it was a peaceful night, and you were home alone with not much to do. soft music played in the background while you hummed along.

you sat on the floor, with piles of books surronding you as you re-did your bookshelf. here, right now, by yourself, you felt at peace. it was almost like a santuary for you.

the last couple of days hadn't been easy, with school, exams, and really just worrying.

worrying for, your dad, tony.

worrying for peter.

for nat.

and wanda.

and steve.

and bruce.

and clint.

and vision.

and everyone else.

for everyone you loved that risked their lives everyday, not knowing if they'd come back home. and while you weren't the one fighting, it took a toll on you anyways. you'd sit alone some nights, when the team was out on a mission, hoping they'd return to you.

because in the end, all you could do was hope. hope was your intelligent kind of bravery, the will to seek what was good, to keep walking for the chance of better things to come.

and then when they came home, back to you, it was a burden lifted off your shoulders, and the heavy aching that stranded itself in the back of your throat disappeared.

that was all it took for you to realize that everything was worth it, all the hoping and the wishing. in one single moment everything made sense.

you jumped a little when you heard tapping on the window. getting up and moving toward it, you slid the glass up.

"hey, angel," he whispered.

"hi, pete," you rolled his mask up until the bottom of his nose, kissing him softly on the lips. it was comforting to know that kisses with peter would always be the same. they'd always be from a place of love. he'd taste like happiness and cinnamon and joy all wrapped into one. it was a feeling too overwhelming to explain, because there weren't words that were beautiful enough to describe it.

you let him in, and he pulled his mask off.

"done patrolling for the night?" you asked, sitting back down.

"oh, yeah. but i wanted to see my favorite girl first."

"is there more than one girl?"

"well," he sighed jokingly, "you might have some competition."

you rolled your eyes, "as if nat would ever even bat an eye towards your way."

he laughed, making you join in as well. peter took a seat on your bed, gazing blissfully towards you.

"'otn' comes before 'oyw'..." you murmured, trailing off.

"organizing the shelf again?"

"yeah."

"how this time?"

"well, i did it by height the first time, and that took forever because i used a ruler to measure all of them, and then i did color, so now i'm doing it by last name," you said, sliding another book into place.

he got up and sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and kissing the side of your head. "you're on 'p' now?"

you simply nodded, easing into his grip. "that'll take you forever," he remarked, burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

"it is. i've been here for a couple hours. i think i'll do it by my favorites next."

"why do you do this?"

"huh?"

"organize, i mean. i can't even keep my room decent, and here you are, re-doing your shelf everyday."

"it's comforting, i guess," you replied after a moment.

"yeah?"

"yeah. this is like... it's like the one thing i can control. whether i want my books in color order, or height, or whatever, i get to pick. i don't get to decide what happens to to the people i love when they're out risking their lives, because i'm not there, there's just... just nothing i can do? does that make sense? i sound crazy, don't i?" you chuckled.

"no, you don't. i think it's nice. calms you down, no? that's good. this is- this is good."

you hummed in reply, fully content. it was just you and peter, just you and your love. everthing didn't matter, not now, not in this moment.

having this boy right here by yout side was more than enough to you. yes, you would worry about him non-stop, but it was worth it. he was worth it.

"i like these," he said, holding you tighter.

"what?"

"you know, these quiet nights. when it's just us."

"i was thinking just the same thing."

"i wanna marry you," he said suddenly, and your turned slightly to try and see him, to see if he was kidding or not. he must have read your mind because he said; "i'm not joking. i'm gonna marry you someday, i swear."

"getting ahead of yourself?"

"no, it's just... i guess it's because i know my future. i know what it's gonna be, and that's you. and when you already know... you just wanna get to it. when i think of what's set out for me, i think of you."

you were blushing so hard, so didn't know what to say, so you settled for; "i can't wait to marry you, then."

"how many kids?"

you laughed, "what?"

"kids! how many?"

"hmmm," you pretended to think. "three."

"oh, yeah! spider-kid one, spider-kid two, and spider-kid three!"

"peter benjamin parker! we are not naming our kids that!"

"well, then, what would you suggest?" he asked smugly.

"easy. ben, uh, tony, and... mary, right?"

he was quiet, and you were afraid you said the wrong thing.

"that's perfect," he said so softly, if it was any quieter, you wouldn't have heard anything.

"don't tell daddy i said that, though, he has a big enough ego."

"that's for sure. so two boys and girl? i like that."

"uh-huh. but we'll have a dog. obviously. named tessa."

"okay, i like that, too. with, um, fish! yeah. fish."

"fish?" you giggled.

"i've always wanted a fish," he defended.

"okay, okay, sure. so three kids, ben, mary, and tony, a dog and a fish."

"two fish." he nodded, "so they won't be lonely," peter added.

"then should we get another dog, too?"

"yes!"

the two of you went back and forth like that, naming the things you wanted to be in your life.

yes, peter would make your hair fall out in clumps, give you wrinkles early, and probably kill you by giving you a heart attack, but it didn't matter. you'd worry about him the rest of your life, and that was okay.

you were okay with your hair falling out in clumps, getting wrinkles early, and dying from a heart attack, because being with peter made all the worrying worth it.

[ray4youknow]

Can you probs do a stan x kyle x sick gn reader whose so fukkin stubborn it drives kyle crazy so he eventually calls stan to take care of them? 😭 if not its ok ill take pete or damien 😻

sure

STAN X KYLE X SICK GN! READER

(This might be bad so please forgive me cuz I really never wrote an oneshot before)

Today I wanted to go out with my friends Kyle, Kenny, Stan and Cartman... but there was a problem... I'm sick and I promised to go to Starks Pond. I'm just laying in bed and I'm bored until...

"I'm going there! Even if I'm sick!" I stood up and immediately felt dizzy, I ignored it and packed my things and went out to Stark Ponds where I saw my friends

Kyle and Kenny waved to me, Stan and Cartman weren't there yet.

"hi y/n" kyle said and smiled at me.

“hi kyle and hi kenny” I said

"Stan and Cartman are coming, fatass really wanted to get KFC," Kenny mumbled.

I laughed a little and immediately felt dizzy again, which Kyle noticed.

"uhmm y/n? could it be that you're sick?"

"huh? what?" I asked him.

"are you sick?" he asked me again.

"No, I never get sick, Kyle" I answered him and coughed.

Kenny and Kyle just gave me worried looks..

“Dude, you should go home and rest,” said Kenny.

"No, I'm not going, I came here to have fun with you guys!"

“y/n it gets worse when you’re like this out here in the cold!” Kyle said.

"I stay here!"

Kyle sighed 

"Good, you wanted it that way... Kenny tell Stan and Cartman that me and Y/N can't come with you guys"

 Kyle said to Kenny and grabbed my arm.

"NO! let go!" 

I tried to free myself from him but his grip was too strong. He didn't say anything and dragged me to my house

he took me to my room.

“lie down y/n” he said.

"I don't want to!" I said stubbornly.

Kyle just looked annoyed at my stubbornness.

“listen y/n if you don’t rest you can’t get better!” he said and threw me (gently) onto the bed.

"Wait a minute" he said and went out of the room..... when he came back after a few minutes he had a spoon full of medicine. "What is that?" I asked Kyle.

"Medicine, and don't argue back!"

"I dont want it "

He just sighed angrily and took out his phone

Kyle tapped his phone and called Stan.

"hey dude, where are you?" Kyle asked.

"I'm at Starks Pond with Kenny and Cartman right now... I heard you two aren't coming. What's wrong?" he asked with concern in his voice.

I sighed.. well Stan... Y/n is sick and refuses to do anything... she/he doesn't want to rest or take her medicine...

“Should I come to you?” Stan asked.

“that’s why I called you... I’m sure you’ll convince y/n.

After half an hour the doorbell rang.

"who is this?" I asked Kyle.

"It's just Stan don't worry."

"Hi guys" Stan said and looked at me worried

"Thank god Stan, she drives me crazy" Kyle said..

"HEY!" I pouted, offended. Stan had to giggle.

“You two are like an old married couple,” Stan joked.

Me and Kyle looked at him like he was an alien or something and blushed a little

"whatever" stan got serious.

“take your medicine y/n”

"How many more times do I want to-"

“y/n!” Stan said sternly...

Come on, why are you all so stupid today?

"Fine..." I sighed... "but it doesn't taste good."

Kyle rolled his eyes "the taste didn't kill anyone"

"You two are so mean!"

“y/n you said you were taking the medicine” stan sighed.

"I've decided, I don't want to-.." I was interrupted by Kyle kissing me (on the cheek (I can change it if you want)) "Shut up and just take it!" he said, blushing. "o-okay" I blushed. Stan just grinned at us. "You two are cute when you blush" he said and kissed us both on the cheek.. "SHUT UP STAN!" we both screamed.

and yes... in the end I took my medication and went to sleep. But I'm not alone because Stan and Kyle watched me all night so nothing happened to me

(I think it’s okay? Sorry if it’s bad, like I said it is my first oneshot and I am also not good about feelings)

[dino-fart]

Afterthought

Request for @bobateadaydreams​

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Stephen have broken up because of something Stephen did. Stephen knows he fucked up is trying everything he can to show reader how he is sorry. Unfortunately, the reader is pissed at him, like REALLY pissed at him, so it's not an easy task. Stephen has turned to everyone for help like Wong, America, even Peter...But alas nothing works, so what will it take to mend their relationship? 

“Tell me again how we got here?” You raise a brow at your ex as you held your hand up between the two with a fire spell cast. It lit up your faces in very dark cave surroundings. Your back was pressed against the cave wall and you were chest to chest with Stephen. 

“The kid...” Stephen grumbled and tried to shimmy away from you due to the close proximity. 

“Peter?” You furrowed your brows. 

Stephen sighed and eventually gave up, “Yeah...Look, I’m sorry...About this...I asked the kid to help me with...A project and obviously it backfired.” Stephen leaned back against the cave wall. 

“Was the project putting us in a crazy situation that you rescue me and I forgive you?” You raise a brow. 

Stephen let out a low chuckle, “Not exactly. But I know how much you like danger.” 

You smirk, “That’s one good thing you remembered.” 

Stephen smiled at you and slowly leaned toward you. You pressed your hand on his chest and pushed him back against the wall. “Nope.” 

“Bad timing?” 

“Absolutely.” 

The cave began to rumble and the cloak moved up to cover both of your heads. When the rumbling stopped, you opened your eyes when you noticed a faint glow. You looked up to see the cave ceiling glow from blue crystals embedded. 

You gasped softly and managed to get out of the small cavern you and Stephen were stuck in. You helped Stephen out and followed the glowing path. 

“What kind of crystals are they? I’ve never seen such things...” Stephen smiled at its’ beauty. 

You gently put your hand on his arm and he immediately felt his heart skip a beat. “Shh, not so loud, they’re sleeping.” You whisper. 

“They?” Stephen furrowed his brows. 

“Weeping Crystal Spiders. Their carapace or shells, are covered in these crystals, it’s how they lure their prey. But if you’re quiet enough they won’t notice you, they’re also blind, so if one does come down onto the ground, don’t move.” You explained. 

“God I could listen to you for hours...” Stephen blurted out softly. He blushed at the realization and you rolled your eyes. 

“Stephen...” 

“It’s true. You’re so brilliant.” 

“You must’ve hit your head.” You let his arm go and began to walk ahead. 

Stephen stood there and watched you walk on. He sighed softly and his cloak tugged him toward you. He followed carefully behind you. 

“There should be an opening here somewhere that we can escape.” You stood there and looked up to see if you could find a hint of sunlight. 

“Let me try my sling ring again.” Stephen said but you were quick to stop him. 

“The less noise the better.” You reminded him. 

Stephen let out a soft noise feeling your fingers on his scarred ones. You turned around and noticed his expression. You two stared at each other, unsure of what to do. You were so angry at him and you had finally calmed down from what he did. From how he treated you, like an afterthought. But gods he looked so beautiful in this light. You pulled your hand away gently and gave him a small smile. “Maybe when we’re not in a spider’s nest, we can talk.” 

“I would love that.” 

You found a path out and created a bottomless cage of insects and cast it far away from the two of you to distract the spiders. The cave rumbled again and the spiders ran toward the cage. You began to climb the wall of the cavern toward the sunlight. Stephen wasn’t far behind you, but you could heard him struggling. You stopped and grabbed his hand in yours, “Climb with me.” 

You whispered a spell to create gloves on his hands to shield them. The two of you made it out and a portal appeared right as you helped Stephen up. Wong and Peter rushed out and Wong teleported all of you back at the Sanctum. 

You stumbled back slightly at the sudden change of plain and the cloak was quick to catch you. “Thanks...” You chuckled at the fabric that helped you stand up. The cloak returned to its’ owner who wouldn’t stop staring at you. Whatever Wong and Peter was saying was muffled to Stephen as the only thing that mattered was you. 

Fuck it...Stephen thought and walked toward you and wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head on your shoulder. He hugged you tightly and you blushed at the soft embrace. It was the first time you’d ever felt such affection from him. You smiled softly and gently ran your hands down his back. 

“Don’t leave.” Stephen said with a shaky breath. 

“As many times as you piss me off you’ll never get rid of me...Guess I’m the fool.” You sighed. 

At this, Stephen pulled back and cupped your face. He saw the tears forming in your eyes, “I’m the fool, for not seeing your love and your care for me...I’m so sorry...” 

You didn’t know what to say, you looked away from him to hold back your tears from falling. Stephen gently cupped your chin and brushed your nose against his. “May I?” You nodded slowly and you felt his rough and cold lips against yours. You kissed him back softly and wrapped your arms around his neck. Stephen wrapped his arms around your waist and continued to kiss you, savoring the sweet taste of your lips. 

When he finally pulled his lips from yours, he pressed slow kisses along your jawline. “Mmm...Stephen...” You let out a soft sigh. 

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Stephen teased. 

“Mmm, maybe, we’ll see.” You chuckled. 

Stephen moved his lips to press kisses along your neck and roamed his hands along the curves of your hips. 

“I take it the plan went well?” Peter chimed in finally. 

Stephen froze and pulled back from you. You smirked and raised a brow at Stephen. “Mhm.” Stephen simply replied and turned to realize that Wong and Peter had been standing there the whole time. Peter had a grin on his face and Wong gave him a nod. Stephen then noticed America giving Peter a thumbs up. 

“Alright, show’s over!” Stephen moved to scoop you up in his arms and carried you bridal style. You laughed softly when he walked up the stairs toward the second floor of the Sanctum and toward his bedroom. 

Maybe he could finally make it up to you...

Tagging: @bobateadaydreams​

[aluveras]

Not too much fun!

Peter parker x Female reader

A/n: I wanna clarify that all my female reader fics and male reader (if i make them) are trans friendly since i see =trans people as the gender they identify as, if its not trans friendly (use of genitilia for example but you can just imagine you had ur surgery) i'll say it in the fic.

Warnings: suggestive content, fluff, may being a character i enjoy way too much.

Word count: 1.2k

____________________

‘’Can you be any more obsessed bro?’’

Pete whips his head over to Ned. He could barely hear him over the crowd of people in the cafeteria.

‘’What? I’m not obsessed what are you talking about?’’

‘’Hey, it’s fine I get it. She’s absolutely gorgeous.’’

‘’Tell me something new’’ Peter answers dreamily while his chin rests on his hand.

‘’You guys are weirdos.’’ MJ says out of nowhere

‘’Yeah, well you sit with weirdos.’’ Peter says back immediately.

It was silent for a few seconds.

‘’That sounded a lot less pathetic when I thought of it...’’

‘’Yeah that’s with most of what you say I think.’’ Ned answers

‘’Ned come on dude, you’re supposed to be on my side.’’

Too focused on the conversation Peter all of a sudden felt his peter ting-  Spider sense, sensing in a very weird way.

‘’Hey Peter.’’

There you were. The most beautiful, drop dead gorgeous, jaw dropping girl he had ever seen.

Ned shoved him to say something.

‘’H-hey Y-Y/n’’ You giggle at his stutter and he swears he is ascending into heaven hearing that sound.

‘’I was wondering if you could help me with the decathlon practice,  I don’t really know anyone on the team and you seem nice. And I’ve seen you in class you’re in incredibly smart. So could you help me?’’

This is a dream. It has to be, he thinks.

‘’If you don’t want to you can say so, it’s okay. ‘’ you say because of his silence.  A hint of disappointment in your voice

‘’No! I would love to!’’ Peter squeaked, immediately cringing at how he said it.

Ned and even MJ can’t help but chuckle a little, neither can you.

‘’Okay great! At your place after school today?’’

‘’Yeah, I’ll walk with you to my place if you don’t mind?’’

‘’That would be great! Thank you.’’

You walk away with a big smile and so does peter as he watches you until you’re out of frame.

- after school –

You walk up to Peter at the entrance of the school.

He feels you coming and turns around quickly, his cheeks already starting to blush                                                    at seeing how beautiful you look.

‘’Hey Pete! Ready to go?’’ if he wasn’t blushing already he sure as hell was now that you used a nickname for him.

‘’Yeah just follow me!’’

-After walking for a bit you arrived at his apartment-

As he allowed you to step in you immediately saw and smelled a cloud of smoke and a middle aged woman cooking…or at least trying to. As she turned around you made eye contact and her face immediately lit up.

‘’Peter! Who is this beautiful young lady?!’’

‘’May, this is Y/n, Y/n this is my aunt May.’’ He said happily finally getting to introduce you to his aunt who he has been ranting about you to.

‘’Hello miss Parker, it’s nice to meet you!’’

‘’It’s May to you sweetie and it is lovely meeting you! I’ve been waiting for this ever since peter couldn’t stop talking about you.’’

‘’She’s joking!’’ Peter says quickly

‘’I don’t talk about you at all! Well that’s not true, I don’t never mention you or pretend you don’t exist or something I just-‘’

Peter was cut off by your laugh, he wish he could have that his alarm in the morning. That would make him wake up and make sure he hears it again. (he means the waking up part in a good way)

‘’It’s okay Peter, if it makes you feel better I talk a lot about you too’’ You smirk.

Peter starts blushing like crazy as he clears his throat and says,

‘’So we’re gonna go study together in my room, if that’s okay?’’

‘’Yes of course, have fun…’’

You and Peter walk to his room and just before he closes his door you hear May say,

‘’But not too much fun!’’

‘’May! Really?!’’ Peter whines

‘’Sorry, I had to!’’

As you sit by Peters bed and he sits next to you, you finally start to realize what you’re gonna do.

You’ve been having this crush on Peter for a while now, you kept seeing him stare and somewhere along the way when he wasn’t staring at you, you would stare at him.                                                             You waited for him to do something but he just never did, just kept staring and never doing anything.

So one day when you had enough of the waiting you decided to form a plan.                                               You didn’t even need help for school, it was just a perfect plan to hang out with Peter and tell him how you feel. Though when you sat there, you couldn’t even think about actually doing it.

There were times while working you two looked into each other eyes and didn’t even say anything, it would feel like the time stopped and all that there was Peter and this feeling. This feeling. A feeling that is hard to describe but so pleasing.

A warmth in your chest, a smile that you can’t hide because it’s just so strong. Your heart going faster than ever and your hands shaking like crazy. Your brain could barely focus on anything other than his eyes.

‘’Y/n?’’ Peter says softly.

‘’Hm?’’ you hum also softly.

Then Peters body works faster than his brain and he just leans in. And you meet him halfway.

As your lips softly meet, the feeling is stronger than it’s ever been. As you depart you are both blushing insanely.

‘’Thank you.’’ Peter says

‘’Thank you?’’ You giggle

‘’For letting me kiss you! And not getting mad that I didn’t ask before.’’

‘’Peter, I wanted to kiss you and you gave me enough time to pull away, don’t worry.’’

‘’Really?!’’

You start to full on laugh now.

‘’Hey! Don’t laugh I was really nervous.’’

‘’I know, so was i!’’

‘’What! Why? I’m just Peter, a lonely nerd.’’

‘’You’re not lonely! You have Ned and MJ plus I like that your nerdy, I want a hot nerdy boyfriend!’’

You immediately regretted saying that.

‘’Not that I expected you to now immediately be my boyfriend! If you don’t want that then that’s fine.’’ You just wanted to disappear. (Like peter did in infinity way)

‘’I would actually…love to be your boyfriend…’’ Peter says softly

‘’Well then…’’ there was a silence which you expected to be awkward, but you just stared into each other eyes comfortably.

‘’Can I-‘’ He clears his throat before speaking again. ‘’Maybe kiss you again?’’

You giggle.

‘’We’re together now Pete, you don’t have to ask.’’ You laugh

And by that Peter (surprisingly easy to you) lifts you up a bit and makes sure you straddle him comfortably.

‘’Wow, who knew Peter had such mo-‘’ and before you could finish your lips were in a heated make out sesh with peters.

Just as he slips in his tongue into your mouth and he leaves a long groan, the door swings open.

And there stands a shocked and happy May.

‘’You got the girl!..’’ and quickly after that she says ‘’but I meant the not too much fun part not until your further into the relationship!’’

You laugh as Peter whines again ‘’May!’’

_______________________________

[stranger224]

Kinky Kaptions: Remember

“I’m telling you this chick's tits were out here!” Gary bragged to his buddies as they shared a drink at a local sports bar

“And I’m telling you you are full of shit! That girl you were bragging about being a smoking 11 last week; I looked her up, she is barely a 6” his buddy Andy responded.

“I said she was an 11 when I was drunk! Looking her up sober doesn't count. But that doesn't matter cause the chick I was with the other night was an 11 sober! Her tits were beautiful and her ass, god; I wish I could remember her name.” Gary said. 

His friend Oliver snorted. “Of course you can't, then we could find her and see if you're full of shit!” 

Steve and Pete nodded in agreement. They had heard Gary telling tales of exploits before, and the women were never as hot as he made them sound. 

“Actually he is being quite modest, we did have fun the other night”. A sultry voice added to the conversation. Its owner stepping up to the table. The hottest woman any of the men had ever see casually came into view. Her fiery red hair hung like a waterfall down her back, her breasts full DDs that had been spilling out of her bra, ending in an ass that could stop traffic. She settled that plush rear into Gary’s lap and cheekily took a sip of his beer. Gary for his part felt like a king, the way her soft flesh felt on his lap made him hard so fast he got a head rush. Feeling it jiggled while she got comfortable he was surprised he didnt cum on the spot. She kisses his cheek before continuing “You left out the best part, the blond with the giant rack that gave you a tit job while I was in the shower. Remember?” The memory forming in Gary’s mind, how could he have forgotten?Those tits had been amazing, round, perky, they were obviously implants. But who cared when they were wrapped around his dick?

 A giggle brought him back to reality. A blond strode up to the table, her heels clicking on the polished wood floor of the bar. She leaned over Gary’s head so her massive tits rested on the top of his chair “Yea that totally was fun! She said in a high pitched girly voice. “But not as much fun as the week before I bet. You showed me a picture of that girl, the one with lips so pumped up she could barely talk Member?”

Gary certainly did. It had been the best blow job he had ever had, right in the back of this pub. The guys had bet him he couldn't get that chick's number, but he had sure showed them. She had been pretty, but what she could do with her lips. He almost regretted giving her a fake number. Then again, if he hadn't then he wouldn't have met, what were their names again? The blond and the redhead, hell what was Lip chick’s name? He searched for it but it never appeared. It was a painful flick to the forehead that got him to focus this time. When he focused Lip Chick was at his side. Her beautifully sculpted lips turned into an adorable pouty frown. “If you had gifen me your real number, You would hafe seen what these could really do. but oh well you're lost." She walked up to Pete and settled into his lap with a wet kiss on his cheek. The group ordered another round and relaxed. Gary particularly enjoyed how the Redhead felt on his cock. He hoped he could get the Blond and the Redhead to give a repeat performance. 

A bit later the blond and the redhead started arguing about something Gary hadn’t been paying attention to, only tuning in to hear “Don't get me wrong Red, you have a beautiful ass but this woman Gary and I played with the other week end, I was worried she wouldn't be able to get through the door of my apartment with hips that wide. Member Gare?

Gary’s hand reflexively squeezed Red's meaty thigh as the memory came to him. Him and The Blond had found the Brunette at a club, chatted her up, and brought her home. The memory of his cock squeezing between her soft ass cheeks was overwhelming. She had felt so good that words failed him, particularly when the same brunette settled herself on Andy’s lap “I hear my name. Were you too sluts talking about little old me?” The brunette had a lovely southern drawl that matched with the rugged flannel and khaki shorts she had shoved her oversized curves into. Blondie squealed excitedly, throwing herself into The Brunette’s arms before wrapping her own around the woman’s hip and rear, trying fruitlessly to get her arms all the way around the soft orbs while kissing her aggressively. 

“Get a room you too” Lip Chick said taking a break from her own make out session.

“I actually just came from mine. After a wonderful fuck session with Gary and Olivia there” said the brunette coming up for air to toss Oliver’s hair. Oliver looked confused “Olivia?” 

“Oh no need to hide from us Olivia. We all know how much of a bimbo you are. All those pink slutty outfits you wear. That's how you ended up in a room with Gare bear and me. Gary was mauling those massive tits of yours. While I sat on his face and he ate me out, oh it felt so good you remember right Gary?” 

Gary did. The brunette’s ass was so large he had been afraid it was going to suffocate him. That just made his cock harder. Which had made Olivia scream even louder. She had bounced on him so hard, that her tits had flopped out of the pink wrap top she had been using to conceal a bit of modesty. Lucky she had put it back on before coming down to drink with him and the lads she was such a ditz he half expected her to forget it. He looked at her over the table and saw she was playing with her nipples through the shirt “Oh yea that was hot! God, I'm such a ditz, how could I forget an orgasm that good!” 

“Maybe because you were too busy masturabing to that night you Gary and Steffi over there had a threesome.” Red said. nodding over to Steven who had been quietly enjoying his beer before all of the women had come over. ��You had been telling us that Steffi was such a blond she's more of a ditz than you are. Remember Gary?”

Of course Gary did. He remembered thinking this girl was such an idiot it was good thing she had nice tit’s. He also remembered pounding her into such a stupor she hadn't been able to form words for an hour, not that words were really what her mouth was for. That had been the best head he had gotten before he met Lip Chick. For her part, Steffi just sat in her chair, vacant eyes staring off into space, a ribbon of drool on her glossy lips.

Lip Chick stopped making out with Andy for a moment. “Remember the Titty twins Gary? What were their names? Andi and Petra! God those bolt-ons were nice. We had such a wild night!

Gary was starting to get annoyed. Of course he remembered the twins, they were so alike in every way they could be clones of each other. Right down to their massive matching set of tits that they were currently resting on the bar table. Large tumblers of booze wedged into their cleavage. One of them, Andi, Gary thought had resumed making out with Lip Chick. Looking around he saw all of the different bimbos he had slept with recently. “I guess I must be a great lover to pull this many hotties,” he said. As the words left his mouth it was like a record scratched. All eyes looking at him and the voices seemed to be speaking in unison “What are you talking about Gabrielle? We came out tonight because it's girls night, and you because you're our bimbo bestie. Remember?”

[gmmtv-bl-tournament-but-evil]

i think dbk is honestly overrated, or at least that's how i felt about it. i get why people love it so much, but it left a very sour taste in my mouth. going into 2gether, i had already seen a lot of negativity about it, so i expected it to get bad (it did) but i did expect dbk to be a lot more bearable. i think the show just felt so stagnant in terms of petekao, and while i appreciate what it did with the coming out plot, i feel like petekao as a relationship felt really weak and i didn't really root for them to be together?

i didn't like how we could see how pete's possessive behavior having negative impacts on their relationship, and kao feeling compelled to hide things as a result (like, god. he wanted him to just refuse to tutor the kid cuz hes jealous?) was something that instead of being addressed seemed validated. i like flaws, i loooove when characters have big personality flaws, even. but this felt like it was just being validated. we get the vibe that pete was right, and at the end, kao affirms that he likes that pete is possessive. i feel like this would have landed a lot better if instead of possessiveness that feels detrimental, pete grew into being possessive but also respecting this boyfriend. it just felt. odd.

look. i love established relationship and i also ADORE break ups. i think a good break up -> getting back together can be really interesting. i am an exes to lovers enthusiast. but i also almost had zero care about petekao getting back together (this also happened when i watched kiss me again before dbk. i just did not care that much. as a side note the person who directed 2gether, puppy honey, kiss me again, teenage mom, social death vote, etc is my mortal enemy as a 4 pillars fan who has STRONG opinions on the quality of these???) because the show really just made me feel their relationship was really unstable at its foundation? of course, i know they’re good for each other. for example, pete becomes better because of kao. still? didn’t quite work for me.

then there's non. i have no idea how "18year old with a crush on kao who goes too far" became the main driving force of the entire story, because i think there were a multitude of ways to explore the coming out plot poignantly and non was! not it! and i've never enjoyed how they wrote non in the end. in a show where we sympathize with kao for his fear of coming out, i didn't like how we were pitted against the 18yr old with a shitty parent who was scared of coming out. yeah, he fucked up massively and almost ruined kao's life. i get that. but do i think not addressing the massive "bad parent" motivation elephant in the room felt odd? how is it a happy ending that he's just definitely going to suffer cuz of his goddamn strict dad? do we just not care about non? maybe i'm just overly sensitive about this as someone who sympathizes with people who do things because of the fear of their parents (looking at you, ben from nlmg!) and thought it was insulting to me personally that the show said that "a parent will always know what their children are" (i disagree) also pretty much abandoned non? i get most people just found him annoying, but damn. i felt bad. non is like pete in ways, but even more immature and without the presence of a supportive father

oh our skyy was bizarre to me, by the way. less relevant to my opinions on dbk but the characterization was SO off in it and it just felt unneeded. and i’m a kongart our skyy lover so maybe it’s that i subconsciously compared it (our skyy petekao just feels so markedly Not PeteKao of kiss me again OR dbk!) also this didn’t factor into my voting but the continuity changing between kma our skyy and dbk really annoyed me as someone who watched it in order.

i liked sunmork, but a side couple can never save a show for me. the ost & cinematography was nice as well (i looped the theme song so much!) but unfortunately, the show really didn’t work for me. honestly, dbk vs 2gether was hard for me because, well (i could write a rant of this length on 2gether 😭😭😭 maybe longer actually) yeah. but that’s the fun of the competition!

I agree almost completely with everything you say about DBK. Despite finding Non extremely annoying, it left a terrible taste in my mouth that the reason why he was such a dickhead was never addressed and I agree that he got dealt a terrible hand by the narrative.

As for SunMork, I understand your feelings but I have to say that if it wasn't for them I would have never finished DBK. Although it's also true that I watched Not Me way before DBK which endeared to me Gawin soooo much and was also already extremely in love with Podd. That is to say, I was personally invested.

The only episode from that season of Our Skyy I watched was the Puppy Honey one which I liked better than the entire show, so I can't really say anything on the matter of PeteKao there.

I had a completely different experience when first coming into contact with 2gether too and in fact, part of the reason I hate it so much is that I saw nothing but praise for it before watching it and it made me so fucking mad. All the people hailing 2gether as this fantastic, incredible, amazing, showstopping, revolutionary show made me extremely suspicious and then I watched it and completely hated it, and the suspicion turned into absolute fury. Especially when I see it compared to other, better shows as something they should aspire to be.

I realise I'm coming off as extremely mean about it but it pulls some visceral reactions out of me so I'll just stop here before I cross a line.

I love your message, Anon, but it's not lost on me that you didn't actually say which one you voted for!!!!

[di-daynamic]

@fluffbruary Day 26

Edmund had always liked the night.

That had been the case even before Narnia, and its incredible night sky and stars.

Admittedly, England’s stars were a lot lackluster in comparison, but he didn’t mind it. Much. He sat in the courtyard, leaning back up against the wall. He and Lucy tended to the garden a lot now, much to the astonishment of their parents. Lu had been the first to look at the surroundings back in Cair Paravel, he reminisced. After they had truly begun to rule, after everyone had really begun to look at them as leaders.

As the youngest, and the one Pete and Su were most protective of, she’d had a lot of free time in the beginning, before she began taking the regional court and dealing with soft power and diplomacy. Edmund had been busier – as the ‘Just’ he’d been in charge of most of the criminal trials, with Peter overseeing – but he’d been feeling extremely apologetic to his siblings, especially Lucy, and he’d never denied a chance to learn something. When Lucy had in her excited way rambled about her efforts to garden during one of their ‘compulsory everyone has to sit down and eat together’ meals, he'd liked the prospect of spending time with her enough to start, and he’d never stopped.

Remembering Narnia tended to be difficult though. Here, people still looked to him as a sullen child, while there he’d been a respected king. He sometimes wondered if he missed Narnia for its own sake or because he longed for a place without the flaws of England, where he could be respected.

“Looks like the first snow is here,” came a soft voice from behind him, and he instantly recognized it as his older sister.

Edmund looked up and felt the usual uneasy jerk of his stomach at the sight of anything to do with the White Witch. “So it is,” he agreed. “Is that what brings you out here at this time, dear sister?”

Susan smiled, bumping his shoulder with hers. She had always been beautiful – the kind that made other parents sigh and tell theirs that they were lucky to have such a beautiful girl who would be married off very easily – but ever since Narnia she had attained a maturity and grace of someone years older. Princes and kings had vied for her hand there.

Edmund sighed, and looked up at the stars. As all roads led to Rome, every thought these days led, somehow, twistingly, achingly, to Narnia. And how much he wished they could do it all over again.

“I saw you slip out,” she replied.

“So I can expect the others here soon too?” He asked dryly, but Susan didn’t answer that, instead looking him in the eye in that deducing way of hers. He avoided her gaze.

“What is it that brings you out here, Ed?”

Melancholy and memory, Edmund could answer, but that would bring to the forefront so many of the things they had carefully not spoken of. “I wanted to see the stars,” he said instead.

Susan looked up too. “They are beautiful,” she agreed, but he could hear in her voice the wistfulness for Narnia’s night sky.

Between the two of them, they thought too much. Peter and Lucy balanced them out, gave them joy and hope and optimism, though Pete could be a downer too, High King and all. Lu had her work cut out for her more often than not.

“I say, the pond has nearly iced over!” Lucy’s excited voice came. “Do you remember skating across the frozen rivers?”

Case in point.

“Of course,” Edmund replied, smiling at the memory. “During the winter festival. Every year, without fail. Una and Panna would always drag the two of you out, and then Pete and I’d come out just to keep you out of trouble.”

“Rather hypocritical of you to call the two of us troublemakers,” Susan drawled, but she was smiling too.

“I don’t know,” Peter teased, walking up to join them. “As I recall, it was the two of you who somehow managed to get us to stumble upon the Marsh-Wiggle rebellion. And let’s not forget the time Lucy went off with the dryads and left us to start preparing a recuse mission for an assumed kidnapping.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms, huffing in a way Edmund had not heard her do since she was seventeen – but wait. She was only nine now, again.

It was difficult to remember that. Lucy slipped between acting nine and twenty-something. Peter gave commands the others obeyed instinctively, even if they contradicted their father’s. Edmund sometimes thought it was convenient to have grown up before and know how it would happen, and prevent the ridiculous ‘growing pains’ they’d had as teenagers, but then sometimes he just got so sick of being back here, with hard air and no magic and no power. It was a beastly business, altogether.

“—can’t talk, Peter!” Lucy was saying, gesturing exuberantly as always. “You were the one who got kidnapped more than a hundred times!”

“Oh yes, I remember throwing the ball for his hundredth kidnapping,” Susan said.

“I still cannot believe that when Oreius was leading a daring rescue, the three of you were dancing around in the ballroom,” Peter complained for the thousandth time.

Lucy waved a dismissive hand. “It was the hundredth time, brother. And that one was fairly low risk. We knew perfectly well you were more valuable as a hostage rather than dead. And those were low-grade smugglers. They would have never dared kill a royal.”

“We must treasure the time you are not there to boss us around,” Edmund proclaimed solemnly.

“To be sure, it was a greater shame that you managed to be captured by such incompetents,” Susan agreed, ignoring Peter’s protests, “The ball really was beautiful, wasn’t it? Though the ice sculptures were—” She hesitated, and all three of them gave Edmund the side-eye, concerned about him. Edmund rolled his eyes, he loved his siblings, but they needn’t think him so delicate so as to still quake in terror at anything even tangentially related to the White Witch.

“Ed, you danced with the Lady Eluna, remember? From Galma?” Lucy changed the topic, easily, as she was wont to do. The charming smile on her face distracted from the abruptness of it. It was why they had always sent her on diplomatic missions – with Peter or Edmund for company, of course.

Which wasn’t to say she wasn’t a terror on the battlefield, but the other three had always done their utmost best to keep their little sister away from the horrors of war, as much as could have been done with her being queen.

Edmund made a face. “Don’t remind me. Pete forced me. Said it was for ‘international relations’.”

Lucy made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Don’t listen to him, he enjoyed it. I caught him and Eluna on the balcony a couple hours into the cleanup.”

“We were only talking!” Edmund protested defensively, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.

“Just talking,” Peter mocked. “And he derides his royal brother for foisting such a great pleasure onto him.”

“Weren’t we only just teasing Peter?” Edmund complained. “Why can we not continue with just that?”

“Family time includes humiliation for everyone,” Peter smirked.

“Except me,” Lucy said cheerfully.

“I’m certain we could find something if you wished it, Lu,” Susan replied amusedly.

“Perhaps the time we went to sort the centaurs-dwarfs fight out?” Peter suggested.

“Hardly,” Edmund scoffed. “Lucy was perfectly fine in that. You’re the one who was humiliated in that, my dear sister.” He grinned at Su.

“Oh, don’t leave yourselves out,” Susan responded coolly, tossing her hair. “I seem to recall the two of you losing to Windstorm several times, and Peter proceeding to fall in the mud, and Ed making the terrible decision of burning the building down with him still in it.”

“It was an impulsive decision,” Edmund grumbled defensively, as his siblings laughed. “And you can’t say it wasn’t a good one.”

Lucy stopped laughing first. “No, we can’t,” she agreed quietly, obviously remembering the worse parts of the episode.

Narnia hadn’t been all fun and games. Ruling had been tough, and involved a lot of ugly scenes and making hard decisions.

“No regrets, then?” Peter asked, eyes and face grave, his High King imperiousness at an all-time high, and they knew perfectly well he wasn’t just asking about that mission.

“Never,” Lucy stated firmly.

Susan and Edmund exchanged a glance. “Certainly not,” she agreed.

Edmund could never, ever regret Narnia and what it had taught him, taught all of them. How it had helped heal the relations among the siblings. How much ever hurt it gave him, gave all of them, he loved it beyond anything.

“Except that you somehow managed to become even bossier, High King,” Edmund said cheekily, and his brother mockingly swatted at him, and the two of them began to playfight with their Susan exasperatedly telling them to stop and Lucy cheering them on.

How on Earth or Narnia could he ever regret this?

[primroseprime2019]

Through the Spider-Verse: Chapter 2- The Spider-Man HQ

"Hobie! Pavitr!" Gwen called out as she, Miles and Polina walked down to the main living room.

Polina looked around in amazement. 'There's so many... Spider People,' she thought nervously.

"Was wondering where you guys were!" Pavitr exclaimed as he ran over to them with Hobie and Jess following.

"Miles!" Pavitr exclaimed as he hugged Miles, surprising the other boy who laughed.

"Hello to you too," he chuckled. Hobie looked at Polina, "who's this?"

"Remember when I told you about Polina? She lives in Earth-777," Gwen said. Polina smiled shyly and waved.

Pavitr zipped up to her, "nice to meet you, Polina!" "H-hi," Polina stuttered with a small giggle.

"Hi, newbie," Hobie chuckled. Polina smiled, "hi."

"Gwen! Miles!"

She looked over to see Peter B. Parker and his daughter, Mayday.

"Hey, Pete," Miles chuckled. Mayday cooed and giggled happily, clapping her hands. Miles smiled and gently shook her hand.

"Hello to you too, Mayday," he chuckled. Polina smiled softly.

"It's great to meet you, Mayday," Polina said warmly.

Mayday reached out her tiny hand again, as if wanting Polina to hold it. Polina carefully took her hand and Mayday squealed with delight.

"She likes you," Peter B. Parker chuckled. "You must have a good aura."

Polina blushed and laughed. "I guess so."

As everyone got settled in the living room, Gwen turned to Polina. "So, Polina, what do you think of our little Spider-Verse here?"

Polina looked around at all the different versions of Spider-heroes and smiled. "It's incredible. I never imagined there could be so many different Spider-People. I feel honored to be among you all."

Gwen and Miles exchanged glances of pride. "We're glad to have you here," Miles said sincerely. "We can learn a lot from someone who's seen multiple dimensions."

The room fell into conversation, with everyone sharing their stories and experiences from their respective dimensions. Polina listened intently, impressed by their bravery, strength, and camaraderie.

As the evening continued, Polina felt more and more at ease with her new Spider-Verse friends. She knew she had found a special group that she could call family, no matter what dimension they came from.

"Do you guys have a leader?" Polina asked. Hobie huffed and chuckled, "not by choice."

Polina looked over at Pavitr, curious. "Why isn't it by your choice?"

Pavitr sighed. "Miguel has this... superhero complex. He's convinced that he's the superior Spider-Man and should be in charge of everything. Most of us don't really agree with him, but he's a good guy deep down. It's just his ego that gets in the way sometimes."

Gwen rolled her eyes playfully. "He's definitely a handful, but we've learned to deal with him."

Miles nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he means well, he's just overly confident."

Polina furrowed her eyebrows. "So, is he here right now?"

Hobie chuckled again. "Nope, luckily he's off on some other dimension hopping adventure. Probably bragging about how he's saving the day all by himself."

"Typical Miguel," Gwen muttered.

Just then, the interdimensional portal in the living room crackled with energy, and out stepped a tall figure in a futuristic Spider-Man suit. It was Miguel O'Hara.

"Speak of the devil," Miles muttered under his breath.

Miguel strutted into the room, a smug grin on his face. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? A new addition to our little group?"

Polina tensed up, feeling the weight of his scrutinizing gaze. But she stood her ground and smiled politely. "Hi, I'm Polina. Nice to meet you, Miguel."

Miguel's grin softened slightly, and he extended a hand towards Polina. "Welcome to the Spider-Verse, Polina. I hope you're ready for some Spider-fun."

Polina shook his hand, relieved that he didn't seem as intimidating as she had expected. "I'm excited to be here and learn from all of you."

The room resumed its usual lively chatter, with Miguel joining in and regaling them with his exaggerated tales. As Polina listened to their banter, she couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging, even with Miguel's eccentricities. She was becoming a part of something much bigger than herself, and she couldn't wait to see where this Spider-Verse journey would take her.

After a while, Polina decided to do some exploring and she found herself in the bridge of HQ.

She looked around curiously before she saw Miguel looking over some orange screens.

Polina approached Miguel cautiously, not wanting to startle him. "Hey, Miguel. What are you working on?"

Miguel turned around, a faint smirk on his face. "Ah, Polina. Just analyzing some interdimensional data. Trying to make sense of the multiverse is quite a task, I must say." He glanced at her curiously. "What brings you here?"

Polina, a sense of adventure in her eyes. "I wanted to explore the HQ a bit more."

Miguel hummed softly but nodded his head before he looked back at the screens.

Polina tilted her head again before she hopped onto the railing and looked at the screens too. They were all of different dimensions. Even the ones that Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr were from.

"Which Earth are you from?" Miguel suddenly asked and Polina looked at him. She stared at him for a moment.

"Earth-777," she said cautiously, "why?"

He looked away, his eyes landing on another screen. "Curious, I suppose," he said.

Polina frowned a little and she fidgeted a little. She silently exhaled through her mouth before she jumped down from the platform.

Miguel watched her go out of the corner of his eye and he waited until she left the bridge. Lyla appeared beside him.

"You know you can't hide your curiosity when it comes to that one. You didn't do the same with Miles," she said.

Miguel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know, Lyla. It's just... there's something about Polina. She's different, you know? And she's from a dimension... a dimension I thought was lost."

Lyla tilted her head slightly, processing the information. "I understand your curiosity, Miguel. But be careful, the multiverse is a delicate web. We mustn't interfere too much with it."

Miguel nodded in agreement. "You're right, Lyla. I'll try to keep my distance. But if there are answers to be found, I can't help but wonder what they might reveal."

Lyla gave him a knowing look before fading away into the digital interface. "Just remember, sometimes the answers we seek may lead us down unexpected paths. Be prepared for what you might find, Miguel."

Miguel took a deep breath, his mind filled with questions and possibilities. He returned his focus to the screens, determined to continue his analysis. But a sense of unease lingered within him as he wondered about the secrets that Polina's dimension might hold.

[msfbgraves]

I always go on about Americans not knowing about class and its intricacies, but the people in The Age of Innocence certainly do, and also know that, for instance, in European eyes, they are all English and Dutch merchants and though that's nothing to be ashamed of, it is nothing to write home about either. I was born more than 100 years after that novel is set, Dutch aristocrats still think that way. It has not changed.

So they would know that Mad Men's Pete Campbell going around calling himself Peter Dyckman Campbell is being a terrible poseur. A Dyckman is a humble watchman of dykes; nothing to be ashamed of, certainly, as such a watchman must have made it big in America later on, yet, to a Dutch aristocrat, very obviously working class in ways they are not. And these Archers and Belforts and Van der Luydens know it. Because I have been screaming at my tv over that terrible lack of form. Wharton's people know society wise, they're a step down from English and Dutch aristocracy, because they're all new money. Whyever emphasise it, Peter? As least the Campbells are a clan!

And I've heard these things in The Hague growing up, though it would be extremely crass to openly discuss it. In fact, the way Wharton lays it all out in the book is not bon ton at all, it's a huge flipped bird to her milieu, but God yes, she gets it, all the inanities of the rules and who's who and the gossip and the veiled ostracism. And I used to think I must have had a stroke to worry about the fact that People Would Talk at my choices, because it doesn't seem to exist anymore, but it does and it's every bit as insane now as it was then. And she's laying it all bare and thank you, Edith Wharton, for telling me from a century ago that I did not grow up in the Twilight Zone.

I will never be one of that incrowd, but I was partly educated among them, and know enough to have the insanity of it validated. Even my own family doesn't believe it is really 'like that', and you do start to doubt your own sanity, because who would even care and am I making this shit up? No, I'm not! Though you never discuss The Rules with 'outsiders', and when you try to explain anyway (which is rude!) they think you are insane. Only one colleague outside of The Hague ever once confided in me that she thought a certain figure of speech her daughter used was 'provincial', and what did I think? To which I said, well, I'd never have said anything, heaven forbid -no, no - but since you ask, yes, I feel that this is a rather regional word and maybe she should want to point that out if her daughter was set to join other rich kids from out of town. Yes, quite, she's always felt that, but since her husband did not see what she was talking about - well, no one would have told him...- goodness, no! - Still, if she were mine I'd tell her - quite, quite, as long as we don't embarass anyone?

It's the same thing how I feel that I would have understood Emily Gilmore, even though I know I'd never be up to her standards. And I feel how stifled Lorelai feels, because these rules are restrictive af and that is of course what Prince Harry is also rebelling against. It's really like, well, if money is no object anymore, we must find other ways to make ourselves miserable. And again, the reason I'm even saying all of this is because I am disabled and have been Not Good Enough since birth, so I can't boot myself out again. Yet when I go home I see it all going on still, completely unacknowledged, and it makes me want to scream.

Bless this book for laying it all out, in a way that hopefully Americans can understand. You need to know how these people tick, because they're as dangerous and weird as Elon Musk.

[waitimcomingtoo]

You Wear Those Shoes and I Will Wear That Dress

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter are just friends but he accidentally kisses you goodbye

Masterlist

“There you are.” Peter smiled to greet you. “How was your first class at college?”

“I wouldn’t know. I did todays Wordle and then I was just texting and clicking between four different tabs on my laptop the rest of the time. I did not hear a single word.”

“What class was it again?”

“I don’t know. Like math or something?” You shrugged. Peter took your schedule from you and skimmed through it.

“Art history.” He told you when he read it on your schedule.

“Are you serious? How did I end up in that?” You asked as you took your schedule back from him. Peter laughed as you read through your list of classes as if you had never seen them before.

“You never fail to amaze me. Are we still on for tonight?” Peter asked once his laughter died down.

“Duh. Like I’d miss our first day of school tradition.”

“Cool. I’ll see you after class then.“ Peter smiled and leaned in to kiss you goodbye. He walked away from you and went to his next class with a smile still on his face. Once he sat down in his seat, his smile instantly fell.

“Oh no.” He whispered.

He quickly touched his hands to his lips and sure enough, felt your sticky lipgloss still on his lips.

“Oh no. Oh no oh no.” Peter gulped and got out of his seat.

“Class has started. Stay in your seat.” The professor ordered. Peter sat back down in his chair and slid all the way down.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Ned whispered to him.

“I just kissed Y/n.” Peter whispered back.

“Really? Where?“

“In the hallway.”

“But where on her?”

“What? Her lips. Where else?”

“Which lips?” Ned asked with a pointed look.

“What?”

“What?” Ned looked to the side.

“Oh my God.” Peter realized what he meant. “What?”

“Focus Peter.” Ned whispered harshly. “Did you guys start dating without telling me?”

“We’re not dating. It was just an accident. What am I gonna do?” Pete whined and slid even further down in his chair.

“I don’t know, dude. How do you just accidentally kiss someone?”

“It was just a reflex.” Peter shrugged helplessly. “I was leaving her so I kissed her goodbye.”

“Why would that be your reflex if you’ve never done it before?”

“I don’t know. I had a dream about her last night. That might have something to do with it.”

“What kind of dream are we talking here?” Ned questioned. “The kind that makes you wake up with a smile on your face or the kind that makes you have to wash your sheets?”

“The smile kind. We were dating in my dream. I guess I forgot I wasn’t dreaming anymore.” Peter sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“Well do you like her?” Ned asked.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m not allowed to like her. We’ve been friends since we were in utero.”

“I didn’t know you guys traveled together.” Ned frowned.

“Do you think it would be weird if I did like her?” Peter wondered, mostly to himself.

“Not any weirder than you starting a surprise make our session with her in the hallway.” Ned shrugged.

“It wasn’t like that.” Peter blushed. “It was just a peck.”

“Then why are your lips shimmery and pink?” Ned narrowed his eyes at Peter’s lips.

“It’s her lipgloss. Damn it. This stuff is like glue.” Peter groaned as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. He couldn’t help but blush at the thought that your lipgloss made its way to his lips.

“It’s worse. It’s like crazy glue. It’s like Kragle.” Ned whispered.

“Do I need to separate you, boys?” The professor asked. Peter and Ned exchanged a look before remaining silent for the rest of the class.

Once you were done with classes for the day, you went to the rooftop of the student center building. Peter was already sitting on the ledge, like you planned. You went and sat beside him, noticing the way he tensed up.

“Hey.” You said, making his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Hey.” He said quietly.

“Here’s your first day of school soda.” You replied and handed him a can of Coca Cola.

“Thanks.” He took it from you and avoided eye contact.

Peter was never allowed to have soda as a kid. May said it made him too rambunctious. You stopped drinking soda out of solidarity because it killed you to see him being the only one not drinking soda at birthday parties. When Peter asked when May would finally let him have soda, she said he could have it on his first day of high school. After a particularly nerve-wracking and embarrassing first day, you found him up on his roof and gave him a can of Coca Cola. You carried on the tradition every year since then.

You opened your can of soda and held it up. Peter unethically clicked his can against yours and you both took a sip.

“So.” You said after a beat of silence. “You kissed me today.”

“Oh God.” Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Wasn’t expecting that.” You shrugged and took a sip from your can.

“I’m so embarrassed.” Peter said quietly from behind his hands.

“Don’t be. Who cares?”

“I cares.” He whined. “I just messed this all up.”

“Who says you messed it up?” You shrugged.

“Of course I messed it up. We’ve been best friends for 20 years and I just smooched you on the mouth out of nowhere. I’m never gonna live this down.” Peter sighed and swung his legs like a little kid.

“Listen, I can forgive the kiss, but I cannot forgive you saying “smooched”. That’s where I draw the line.”

“This is serious.” Peter said as he fought back his laughter.

“I’m being serious.” You insisted. “I don’t care that you kissed me, Pete. It doesn’t have to change anything between us.“

“I can’t just be normal around you now that I know what it feels like to kiss you.” Peter said quietly. You let out a sympathetic sigh and rubbed circles on Peter’s back.

“I’m such an idiot. I’m so embarrassed.” He said again, sounding close to tears this time.

“Pete, you have no reason to be embarrassed. We’ve embarrassed ourselves in front of each other way worse than this. This is like level 1 embarrassment. We’ve gotten to at least level 6.”

“Yeah?” Peter cheered up a little. “Like what?”

“Like when I graduated from training bras to regular bras and I slept over at your house and realized I didn’t know how to take a regular bra off because they’re not like training bras that can be taken off like a shirt. So I had to get May to unbuckle my bra for me. Can you imagine how embarrassed I felt when I asked her to do that? Especially since she clearly found the situation very funny but was trying really hard not to laugh.” You said, making Peter’s body shake with laughter.

“I remember that.” He smiled. “No one would tell me what was going on. I was so mad.”

“I remember you being mad. And that was super embarrassing for me. Way more embarrassing than an accidental kiss.”

“Agree to disagree.” Peter shrugged, knowing it would set you off.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow. “That’s fine. Then how about the time you farted in class and everyone gasped and turned to look at you and you gasped even louder and turned around to blame it on the person behind you but there was no one there? That was way more embarrassing than today.”

“That was really embarrassing.” Peter admitted as his mood lifted the slightest bit.

“It was. Or the time in fifth grade I got distracted by the soccer team playing and walking right into that tree.”

“I remember that.” Peter laughed. “You were just lying there while everyone was trying to get the teacher's attention. And wasn’t your nose bleeding?”

“Uh, yeah. Tremendously.” You playfully scoffed. “Because I fractured it, remember? My face was bruised for a whole week. And I still have a bump on my nose.“

“Consider it a gift from the tree.” Peter teased.

“I do. You know what else was super embarrassing? That time we were walking to school in like sixth grade after that snowstorm and the sidewalks were covered in ice. And then you slipped and landed on your knees and I tried to catch you but I fell too. Then we kept trying to stand up but kept slipping so we had to crawl on our hands and knees until we didn’t see any more ice.”

“Oh my God.” Peter groaned. “I forgot about that. And the second we stood up, you slipped and fell on your back.”

“Yep. Then I just laid in the street like a defeated turtle.” You shook your head at the memory.

“That was pretty bad.” Peter chuckled. “A lot of people saw.”

“They sure did. But I survived it. Just like I survived that time I walked out of the locker room to go to my swim meet and everyone was laughing at me and I couldn’t figure out why until one of my teammates pulled me aside and told me my bra was on over my swimsuit. And I still do not know to this day how that happened.”

“That’s so bad.” Peter covered his mouth as he laughed at your expense.

“I know it was bad. I lived it.” You reminded him. “And believe me, it’s a lot more embarrassing than kissing your best friend.“

“Says you.” Peter blushed as looked down at his lap when you brought it up again.

“You still don’t believe me?” You raised an eyebrow. “Here’s another one. That time you tried to sit down but forgot the quintessential step of pulling your chair out so you fell right on your back and knocked the wind out of yourself.”

“That was so embarrassing.” Peter whined. “What was that, freshman year?”

“Yep. Third period English.”

“No one even laughed at me and that made it so much more embarrassing.”

“See? You’ve embarrassed yourself way more than today.” You laughed and shoved him slightly.

“I guess so.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“You still don’t look convinced. Lucky for you, I have more.” You smirked. “Remember that time we had a sleepover in second grade and you peed the bed? And I didn’t want you to feel bad so out of solidarity, I peed the bed. And then we were too scared to tell your parents so we slept in our own urine.”

“Kids pee the bed all the time.” Peter shrugged. “That wasn’t that bad.”

“Maybe for you.” You scoffed. “You peed the bed on accident. I had to look your mother in the eyes and tell her I purposely peed on her son. Because instead of saying ‘hey don’t feel bad. Everyone pees the bed’, I peed on you so you wouldn’t feel bad. Imagine how that feels.”

“I can’t imagine it feels great.” Peter laughed.

“Or, how about this? When uncle Ben was gonna pick us up from school but you had to stay after so robotics or something so I went alone. And I was sitting in the backseat of his car when my body decided it was prime time to enter womanhood and I literally got my first ever period in your uncle's car.”

“Oh God.” Peter covered his face with his hands.

“That was so embarrassing for me. He took me to the store but neither of us knew what supplies to get so he got me diapers. Diapers! That’s so embarrassing!” You laughed as you shook Peter’s arm.

“You’ve made your point. That was very embarrassing for you.” He said as he playfully pushed you off.

“I haven’t even said the worst one yet. Remember in eighth grade when you and I smacked into each other during gym class?”

“Oh no.” Peter groaned. “Not this story.”

“Yes this story.” You insisted. “You and I were running in opposite directions and I crashed right into you. And apparently, it was a sensitive time for you because you got a whole ass boner in your little eighth-grade gym shorts. Which would’ve been fine, since I didn’t know what a boner was yet, but then my friends told me I was pregnant with your child.”

“I still remember you telling me that you were pregnant.” Peter chuckled. “And then the incredibly awkward and tear-filled conversation with Aunt May we had afterward.”

“She laughed so hard at us. It was so embarrassing.”

“Yeah. She still hasn’t let me live that one down.” Peter told you.

“I know. She still texts me asking for “motherly advice” from time to time.”

You both leaned into each other as you laughed. Once your laughter died down, you shared a look and smiled shyly at each other. You rested your hand on Peter’s knee and looked out at the setting sun.

“I remember at your parent's funeral when you had to help carry your dad's casket out of the room.” You said quietly. “But it was too heavy for you since you were only 9. The flowers slipped off the top because you weren’t tall enough to hold it up. You came to me crying afterward about how embarrassed you were.”

“Yeah. I remember that.” Peter kept his eyes down as the memory replayed in his head. You looked at him and saw that a few tears had slipped down his face. Peter felt you looking and turned his face a little so you couldn’t see him cry. You titled his face back towards yours and wiped his tears with the sleeve on your shirt. You kept his face in your hands and looked into his watery eyes.

“Remember when I got diarrhea at Uncle Bens's funeral?” You asked him, making him burst out laughing.

“I told you not to eat the macaroni and cheese before we left. “Peter clicked his tongue. “I knew it would upset your stomach.”

“I know.” You sighed. “But I’m not God, Peter. I can’t just say no when someone offers me macaroni and cheese. And May made it special so that you would feel better. I had to eat it.”

“You did not have to eat it.”

“It’s what uncle Ben would’ve wanted.” You deadpanned, making Peter laugh again.

“Wow. I can’t believe how many things we’ve been through together.” Peter realized as he looked over at you. The sinking sun was lighting up your face in a warm yellow, the same face Peter had been looking at since he was five years old.

“And how humiliating 90% of them were.” You added, making him laugh again.

“Yeah. Even if they were humiliating, I’m glad they happened. They make for pretty good memories.” Peter said as he put his hand on top of yours. You flipped your hand around so you could properly hold his and gave it a squeeze.

“They do. And someday, we’ll be laughing at the memory of today.”

“Yeah. I guess the kiss will become just another embarrassing moment between us.” Peter sighed and looked out at the skyline.

“Maybe. Or maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?” He wondered as he looked back at you.

“Maybe instead of remembering it as embarrassing, we could just remember it as the first time we kissed.” You shrugged as you avoided eye contact. Peter blushed a rosy pink shade as he thought of the kiss in a new light.

“I like that description better.” He smiled shyly and squeezed your hand again. You looked up at the sky and let out a short sigh. Peter watched curiously as you nodded your head as if you had come to a decision.

“Can I tell you a secret?“ You asked him.

“Yeah. Of course.” Peter shrugged and leaned his ear towards you.

“Come closer. It’s really embarrassing.” You waved your hand towards yourself so he would move closer. Peter looked at you curiously and moved closer. You cupped his chin between your thumb and pointer finger and moved his face towards you before kissing him. Peter’s eyes flew open before fluttering shut, his eyelashes ticking your face on the way down. He brought his free hand to your cheek and kissed you back, feeling the embarrassment from the day melt away. When you pulled away, Peter’s face from elated to confused.

“Wait, did you steal that from that one episode of Victorious? When Robbie kissed Cat?” He asked you. You put your hand over your mouth as your eyes went wide.

“I did. I didn’t think you would remember that.” You said behind your hand. Peter burst out laughing as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“I did. And you just tried to act like you made it up. You thief!” He pointed at you as he laughed at your expense.

“No.” You whined. “I really didn’t think you’d remember that. That makes this so embarrassing for me.”

“It really does. I’m getting a lot of second-hand embarrassment right now.” Peter said as he pressed a cold hand to his burning face.

“Well this is just great.” You sighed sarcastically. “Our second kiss is just as embarrassing as the first one.”

“You know what they say. Third times a charm.” Peter reminded you. You both laughed and felt the awkward tension dissolve from the air between you. You stared at each other for a moment as your laughter died down before leaning in. Peter put his hand back on your face and wrapped your hand around his neck as you kissed. This time, you were both prepared for it. When you pulled away, you exchanged shy smiles and laughed in embarrassment.

“Yeah.” You smiled to yourself. “Third times a charm.”

Most embarrassing moments were brought to you by my lovely readers ☺️ thank you for the submissions

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor

@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @mara-twins @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff

@maybemona @alexxcorona113

[embrassemoi]

Anything But Bug Spray!

Peter never realized the extent his spider senses overrode his human ones until faced with a robber armed with cans of bug spray.

PAIRING: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

CONTENT: injures, fluff, crack, slight angst

NOTES: I listened to ‘Last Nite’ while writing this. I suggest listening along while reading!

Music managed to provide comfort to the loneliest of people. It could be universally understood by the masses no matter its language and had the ability to connect souls through rhythmic patterns, melodies and harmonies.

Or that’s how Peter liked to put it.

As he laid down on a dingy roof with the popping of joints and rolling shoulders, he peered up to the night sky — head bobbing to the initial burst of upbeat notes through his earbuds.

The lively tempo elevated Peter as his fingers drummed together on his lower torso. With the progression of the song, lyrics began slipping past his lips and turned into crystallized puffs of smoke into the wintry air.

“Last night, she said,'' Peter mumbled, looking up to the stars while his makeshift police radio played live, waiting to alert him of any crimes. His phone slipped inside a secret pocket of his suit, earbuds tucked into his ears under his mask as he continued to sing. “Oh, baby, I feel so down. Oh, it turn’ me off when I feel left out.”

The song looped twice until he reached to shuffle his playlist, stopping as his eyes darted to the familiar green phone icon at the bottom of the screen. Instantly, his prerogative changed as he tapped to his most recent contact, then to FaceTime, and waited for the call to go through.

Peter’s face drew into a large smile as her face popped into view and he positioned his phone to capture his face, tugging off his mask.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled.

“Hello, Rudolph —”

“Oh shut up,” he groaned, looking at himself through his phone. The tip of his nose was red and cheeks were bright pink from the cold. Automatically, he felt a shiver creep up his spine while glancing at the glistening snowflakes that danced from the clouds. “I forgot to bring a jacket.”

“Pete! It’s winter!”

“It’ll be fine.”

“If you get sick I’m not taking care of you.”

A scandalized expression crossed him as he slapped a hand to his chest dramatically. “Not even my own girlfriend would take care of me?! Oh, come on! The city doesn’t even pay me!”

“Then come home, grab a jacket.”

Stubbornly, he shook his head and shifted to curl in on himself to retain heat. “Can’t.”

“You’ll get frostbite —“

“I’ll be fine!”

She finally relented, giving him an unamused look. “I hate you.”

“No —” Peter’s whining cued. “You love me. Where would you be without me?”

“Better off,” she joked, resulting in him scoffing while rolling his eyes with a playful smile. “Or maybe in England. That’s where.”

“You wound me.”

He was met with light, echoing laughter — a melody so sweet, so raw, it made Peter’s heart flip; it was the sound of his external heartbeat, far greater than any song. And maybe it was his mind overcompensating, but Peter swore he felt a surge of warmth bleed through him, combatting the chilling cold.

“Anyway, what’s up, lovebug?”

Peter’s face scrunched up into a bright grin, shaking his head at the name. “Missed your face.”

As she opened her mouth, sirens picked up in the background. Peter sat up, whipping his head to look down at flashing red and blue lights along with chatter picking up from the radio: a bank robbery, he distantly noted, three robbers, nine hostages, no casualties. Yet.

“I love you,” he heard, promptly returning to look at the screen — met with a soft smile. His lips pressed together apologetically, thumb hovering to end the call reluctantly. But yet again, she made him feel breathless, something close to radiance bursting in his ribcage that spread throughout his body more addictingly compared to any venom.

He tried to fight the beating of his heart and he could see from the corner of his eye his face turning pink, and this time it wasn’t from the cold.

“Mm, say that again? Please?”

“I love you, Peter. Be safe, come home soon.”

Once it ended, he dropped his face into his hands, trying to contain his smile before standing. He put his playlist back onto shuffle, tugged his mask on, overlooked the city and jumped —

The wind whipped against his body as he dove down, seeing the zipping cars and people pointing at him as webs shot out to grasp a nearby building.

It always brought a priceless rush as he swung throughout the city, following the police cars. He flipped himself through the air several times, muttering lyrics of the song currently playing; he could hear the subway rumbling beneath the concrete ground as he appreciated the bright city lights. They reflected off every surface, a glitter that never failed to enchant Peter.

Latching onto a building and jerking up, he perched himself on the building opposite to the robbery as he ran through and calculated his next move.

Police cars were stationed outside a tall white bricked building and Peter could hear the shouting and muffled cries of the hostages inside along with the clicking of guns. He could see the three robbers in clear view: all armed, one brandishing a gun at the hostages and the other two licking their thumbs as they counted a new stack of cash. Neither looked at each other, only their chests were puffed out as they threw the money into a black duffle bag and hiked it on their shoulders.

However, from Peter's viewpoint, the door was blocked from the inside, right where the hostages were seated, huddled into a corner.

Making a decision quickly, he hopped down to a lower ledge and picked up a nearby brick. The police watched him carefully, only for him to motion back to the hostages.

He launched the brick forward and shattered the glass windows and door. His webs shot out through the cracks — one wrapping around the gun pointed at the hostages, the other ripping off the door from its hinges.

Peter grabbed the weapon from the robber’s hands and threw it to the floor as the cops bellowed for the hostages to run. Peter nodded to an officer before launching off and following the robbers sprinting out the building from the backside.

All three were running — pointing in different directions as they shouted contrasting orders. Distracted, Peter had already shot out more webs — ripping the guns from their holsters and hands and managing to toss them to the ground — all shattering upon contact. However, one robber reached into their pocket, pulled out another small gun and pointed it at Peter’s head.

Moving to the side, he dodged each bullet until growing bored and webbed his hand to his chest as the gun dropping to the ground,

He chuckled, pointing to the robbers. “This is the worst organized robbery I think I’ve ever seen! Do criminals not negotiate beforehand anymore?”

Before they could respond, Peter shook his head and strung up two robbers from their legs and hoisted them high into the air as he swung them onto a street light. They resembled string puppets as he tugged on the webs, making them look like marionettes.

The last robber — his hand webbed to chest — wiggled free, grabbed another bag of money, and sprinted in the opposite direction.

“Hey!” Peter shouted, “Why are you running? You’re missing the best part of my speech!”

And with a shake of his head, tossing a look to the criminals behind him, Peter chased the man with a running start as he swung himself off buildings.

The sight was quite comical, and out of a movie as he observed the robber’s attire. “I see you’ve got the — uh — mask, duffle bag… guns… black and white shirts. You’ve got it all! I’m impressed!”

Having no time to react, Peter dropped down and kicked the man to the ground. He tried to scramble back up, momentarily dazed as he backed himself up against a wall. But Peter tilted his head to the side, reaching up to tug out his earbuds and slipped them inside his pocket. He clicked his tongue, “People like you make my job so easy. Thank you!”

“Fuck you!” The robber groaned.

“I never say this —“ Peter raised his wrist and shot webs into the robber’s mouth to keep him quiet while he snatched the money away from him — “But don’t swallow.”

In relation, the robber’s hand travelled to his waistband and grabbed a large bottle. Peter’s first instinct kicked in — already prying it from the man’s hands and into his own. But as he observed it, turning it to observe the label, it wasn’t a gun or a bomb like he expected, but rather a bottle of bug spray.

He looked back up, finding the robber already had another spray can in his hands — pointed directly at him.

It took a moment for the situation to fully process in Peter’s head as he stared down a barrel of bug spray. As the seconds ticked by, they lapsed into a tense silence but his uncontrollable laughter picked up as he flung his head back. “N-now you’ve outdone yourself!”

“Get-back!” The robber mumbled — words muffled. The man’s entire hand shook as he gripped the bottle tighter.

Indulging in his little game, Peter listened and took a large step back, hands raised in the air in faux surrender. He chuckled. “Really?”

“Yes-really!”

“Can’t believe you did it! You’ve figured out my weakness. Bug spray. Anything but bug spray!”

“You-don’t-want-to-be-laughing!”

“Hmm,” he pondered. “Are you some sort of entrepreneur?” Peter mused, leaning against the nearby wall before pushing himself off. “You are stealing all this money because your product failed?” He stalked up to the man, a playfulness shooting through him. “If you just wanted a test dummy, you could have asked. I've been called bug boy before so you’re onto something.”

The man was seething with anger and was pushed to the edge by Peter’s unrelenting humiliation. The robber pressed down on the white nuzzle, spraying out a short burst of bug spray out into the air and in his direction. With a sharp inhale, Peter went to laugh but ended up choking and his eyes began to burn.

“Hey —” a cough. “What the f —”

Another spray, then another, and another. And this time, it hurt.

It really, really fucking hurt.

The pain was excruciating — all-consuming as he fell to the floor. Peter’s skin felt as if it was scorched, lungs constructing and his blood felt like it was beating too close to the surface — a layer of skin was ripping itself off as an unforgiving hand closed around his throat.

Taking his reaction to advantage, the robber ripped off the webs from his face, grabbed the bags of money and ran in the opposite direction.

Peter was numb, mind disoriented, fist-clenching as he tried to stabilize himself. The action felt detached, out of control and to the best of his abilities, Peter pushed himself up and began escaping — climbing the walls to resume chasing after the robber. Managing to cast a web, he swung himself up, but it proved to be a greater challenge in itself, causing additional dizziness and making him fall several feet into the air, crash landing onto a roof.

There was a short, pained wheeze — deep panic and pain flaring inside him. His entire body hurt, and he was left unable to breathe properly — quivering as his body began to rip itself apart from an invisible force.

Everything was washed over in a blurred dark haze, much different compared to the vibrant city lights he was used to seeing. His ragged breath and compressed chest was felt through every crevice of his body — feeling everything burn and ache — compounded by an unspeakable agony. Weakly, he reached to rip off his mark — tears staining his face as he desperately gasped for air.

Peter was used to almost dying. He had been electrocuted, thrown off buildings, stabbed, shot at, clawed by a giant lizard, bitten by a venomous spider, but he never expected to die like this; spasming on a rooftop, cold, alone, gagging, mind foggy — half-blinded by pain, half-blinded in the literal sense —all from bug spray.

He could barely stand, the only thing keeping him moving were bursts of fear and adrenaline.

Swinging, falling, overwhelmed, cuts and bruises now added to his body, Peter made his way home on pure instincts — pushing past the ringing in his ears that managed to mess with his other senses.

Entering through the window of their bedroom flat, Peter was met with glass shattering and a yep from his startled girlfriend rushing up to him.

Through the buzzing in his ears, he could distantly make out her shouts and pleads — the vibrations of her footsteps rang throughout rooms. Barely conscious, Peter hardly made out the warmth being placed on his chest. A hand, he thinks, and then something over his face, his mouth — to breath properly.

The overwhelming urge to soothe her took control of him as he tried to loll his head, shaky fingers trailing along her leg. But sleep was beginning to enclose on him like a shield, a wave of pain washing over him as he winced, again and again until it encased Peter’s world into abrupt stillness.

* * * *

Hours later, Peter stirred awake. His eyelids fluttered rapidly as he adjusted to the morning sun. He groaned, feeling stiff before the realization dawned on him.

He could see.

Anticipation weighed heavy on his mind as Peter took a moment to breathe in deeply and stretch — checking over his body. He sighed out relieved as he found nothing wrong — only becoming slack as he pressed himself against his girlfriend who had been watching him carefully.

“Morning, lovebug.”

He breathed in, letting out an airy chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss along her jawline.

“You gave me quite the fright.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause and a deep sigh. “I’m just happy you’re safe.”

Peter simply jerked his head in agreement — shifting so his head rested on her chest. He moaned at the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair, messaging the scalp before his eyes caught onto the flash of her cell phone screen.

She was glued to it — her eyes nearly blurring together as she rapidly read the text and curiously, he craned his head to look.

“What are you reading?”

“Wait — Pete —”

But he had already grabbed her phone, eyebrows furrowed as his face tightened and slacked with realization.

The news app was opened. It was a blurred photograph that took up the entire screen. A photograph from last night. A photograph of Peter coughing bug spray mid-spray attack, mid-spasm, on the ground as the robber began to run. The headline read, ‘SPIDER-MAN FINALLY MEETS HIS WEAKNESS?’

“Fuck,” Peter breathed, followed by a thick swallow as he felt his face burn from embarrassment. His face dropped into the crook of her neck as he huffed out pathetically.

She chuckled, feeling a little guilty but laughed nonetheless. “Who knew that the amazing Spider-Man could be taken down with bug spray?”

“... You can’t be seriously laughing at me right now. Are you?”

“N-no…”

He scoffed, “You’re the worst. Go away.”

“You’re the one gripping onto me, idiot.”

Peter tried to fight down his smile, his head shaking. “So mean.”

Unfortunately for Peter, he didn’t take into account how this newfound information might backfire on him. Robbers began carrying bug spray, hosing him down any chance they got — and each time forced him into a near-death sentence that began driving him away. And New York’s crime rate skyrocketed.