#peter? no idea. he's just vibing.

[thefabelmans2022]

i have thought extensively about the pevensie siblings and what their lives would've looked like if they hadn't died in a train crash at extremely young ages and what kinds of careers they'd have and for the life of me i cannot figure out what would be going on with peter.

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

white collar (2009) and the man from u.n.c.l.e (2015) fusion fic... napoleon solo the art thief gets released into agent illya kuryakin's custody to help him solve cases... i'm cooking tell me i'm not

[endbeginning]

and if i said.... pet.er peve.nsie.....

[krowscrawl]

The wind was cold, but Peter laughed and at Judas’ glance he opened his hand, revealing a small round pebble. (Judas blinked, and Peter was that young man once more, the callow country fisherman with the rough hands and a laugh like the sun.)

— the names of grass, by notbecauseofvictories

[nbstevonnie]

only you - good film

[moonstruckme]

A Friendly Proposition

Based on this request: Hi mae!!! Would you be open to writing tasm!peter parker or Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you (wink wink) -- Thank you for requesting!! I chose Remus for this but I would love to do some Peter smut in the future if anyone has any ideas :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, not necessarily inexperienced reader but kind of has that vibe, basically smut no plot

bestfriend!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

“I dunno, I guess overall it was fine.” 

“Fine?” Remus looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, one eyebrow lifted in that way you don’t think he knows he does. You’re sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, attempting to cover up a particularly bad hickey your date from last night had left you as a parting gift. His reflection has a wry twist to its mouth. “I should hope it was more than just fine.” 

You shrug, tilting your head to dab at the makeup on your neck. “Not the best, not horrible. I’d call it thoroughly average.” 

Your friend hisses sympathetically through his teeth. “Not the sort of rave review most guys strive for. If I left someone with a mark like that, I’d hope I made it worth their while.” 

You can’t keep your lips from curving. “I didn’t say it wasn’t worthwhile.” 

“Did he at least make you cum?” 

You cough in surprise. “At least?” You turn around, giving him a disbelieving look. 

Remus’ answering expression is equally incredulous. 

“How common do you think that is?” you ask him. 

The eyebrow lifts higher. “Well, now I’m not sure, but I’ve never had any problems.” 

You scoff, turning back to the mirror. “That’s because you’re a guy.” 

“No,” Remus says, amusement tingling in his tone. “I mean, yes, but I meant I’ve never had any problems making other people cum.” 

“Seriously?” You freeze with your hand upheld awkwardly above your neck. You’re doing your best to make this conversation feel casual, but sometimes having an attractive guy for a best friend can get confusing, and the room is starting to feel a tad warm despite the open windows. “Like, what’s your success rate?” 

“What’s yours?” 

“I asked you first.” 

Remus’ lips twitch, fondness beneath his exasperation. “For women specifically?”

“Sure.” 

He nods, expression turning pensive. “I can’t be exactly sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m constantly fucking loads of women.” He says it so offhandedly, but just the language makes a tickle of warmth start up in your cheeks. “There were a couple who didn’t, when I was younger, still learning, but since then it’s been fairly high.” 

You swallow. You wonder what the learning had entailed, what Remus had picked up that you and anyone you’ve hooked up with hasn’t. It’s typically not for a lack of trying, though some certainly invest more time into the ambition than others. You can’t say you’ve even tried that hard yourself, not in a while and not since you’ve reckoned with the idea that it may simply not happen for you. It feels like a pointless exercise. 

You break from your reverie when you notice Remus watching you in the mirror. 

“Your turn,” he prompts. 

“You can’t make fun of me.” 

“You know I wouldn’t.” 

You absolutely do not know that, he loves to tease, but he’s right in that you don’t think he would about this. You catch yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, and stop. 

You do your best to affect his unflappable blasé when you say, “Zero, so far.” 

That blasé hardly holds up now. Remus sits straight up. “Never? Not once?” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you focus on covering the spot on your neck. “Nope.”

“Not even by yourself?” 

“You make it sound like it’s so easy.” There’s some bitterness in your tone as you tilt your head up, inspecting your work in the light. “I haven’t tried in a while, because I was never able to. I got sick of it.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

You try not to melt. Remus will call you that, from time to time, but given the context of your conversation you wish he wouldn’t. Suddenly his room feels a little bit smaller, the atmosphere more private than before.

You look at his reflection, expecting to find teasing in his expression, but it’s thoughtful. Contemplative. 

“You said you wouldn’t make fun,” you remind him. “I feel like that should also include feelings of pity. Let’s not act like it’s some great tragedy to not have cum before.” 

“No, I’m…it’s not that. You’re right, there are worse fates.” One corner of his lips curves slightly, and you mirror him, relieved. “I was just thinking that I could…well, I might be able to help.” 

“What?” A little laugh trips off your tongue. Your face is really feeling warm now. “Do you have some kind of manual or something?”

“Would you want my help?”

“Is there a diagram you’re going to show me? Trust me, I’ve seen those.” 

“Answer the question, love.” 

You set your makeup down, expelling a breath. Meet his eyes in the mirror with a shrug. “Yeah. Sure, I’d be curious.” 

Remus studies you. Analytical hazel eyes and a map of scars you would know blind. “Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, but I could show you, if you’d like.” 

Your breath seems to stall in your lungs. “On…” you trail off, not wanting to misunderstand him. 

“On you,” he confirms. “Would you want that?” 

You’re nodding before you can think enough to speak. Your head feels slow and fuzzy, like you’re navigating a dream. “Yeah,” you manage. “If you’re alright with that.” 

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Remus spreads his legs open on the bed, patting the space between them. “C’mere, love.” 

“What—like, now?” 

“Do you have another engagement?” He gives you a little smile. It squishes the scar underneath his left eye adorably, but when you hesitate he sobers. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

You shake your head, and it’s like your body remembers how to move, propelling you up from your seated position. “No, sorry, I’m good with this. I think I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be, though. It’s only me.” 

You see his eyes drop to your mouth, and you let your lip slip from between your teeth a second time. Remus is right. If there’s anyone you should be comfortable learning this with, it’s him. 

When you go to crawl up on the bed, he stops you. “Probably want to lose the pants first,” he suggests. 

Right. You set your fingers to the button, and it seems to fly open of its own regard. You feel Remus’ eyes on you as you slide them over your hips and step out. 

“Underwear too, or…” 

“No, we’ll keep those for now.” Remus holds a hand out for you, and you get up onto the bed, letting him help you settle in between his legs. It’s impossible not to be conscious of the feel of his pants against your bare skin, or how comfortably he wraps a hand around your thigh, pulling it open that much wider. “Do you usually start with everything off?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “Isn’t that sort of the point?”

“Sometimes,” he hums. “Sometimes, though, it helps to work up to it. You need to get warmed up, you know?” 

You murmur an affirmation, though you don’t actually know. There’s never been much warming up when you or anyone else has tried to do this before. But it doesn’t matter, because then Remus starts rubbing the outsides of your thighs with both hands, and any sound dies in your throat. 

“You have to start slow,” he says in a low voice. Scarred, strong hands moving over your skin. “Everyone responds to different things, and it’s about feeling out what works for you.” 

You can’t imagine how this wouldn’t work for anyone. Remus touch starts moving inward, until his long fingers are dragging over your inner thighs, fuelling a familiar warmth at their apex. 

“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 

You wet your lips. “I think so.” 

“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, you could try touching yourself other places, see what works.” 

Tentatively, you slip one of your hands up your shirt. Your breasts feel more sensitive than usual, and when you squeeze one, combined with Remus’ hands on your thighs, it makes your breath catch. 

“There you go, sweetheart. You’ve got it.” 

Your body starts to slacken against him, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only uses his grip on your thighs to drag you closer, propping you up. You can’t tell which one of you is warmer. 

Without warning, his hand brushes over your mound. You gasp. 

“Is this okay?” Remus asks, his voice closer to your ear than it had been. He gives you another stroke over your panties. 

“Yes,” you breathe out. 

“Alright. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” 

One hand continues moving over your thigh while the other drags the fabric of your panties aside, flattening over your cunt. 

“Oh, poor girl,” he coos. “Is all this for me?” 

Your silence must scream mortification, because he chuckles and bumps the side of your head with his affectionately. 

“Sorry, I’m only messing with you. Is it always like this?” 

You lie. “Yeah.” 

Remus hums, dragging two fingers through your folds. You squirm in his lap. Your hand has completely forgotten your breast. 

“I usually start here,” he says, one finger circling your clit. It slips and slides in the mess you’ve already made. “You do the same?” 

You nod fervently. He adds another finger, moving over it gently, and has to tighten his grip on your leg to keep it open. Your breaths start coming faster as he repeats the motion. You can feel him getting hard behind you. 

Just as your pleasure starts to take you under, Remus’ fingers fall away. 

“Your turn,” he says. His voice sounds slightly hoarse. 

When you hesitate, confused and a bit bereaved, he chuckles, taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers to your clit. 

“Show me how you’re gonna do it, sweetheart.” 

Tentatively, you try to copy his movements. Your own fingers feel clumsy and inadequate compared to his, but after all the work Remus has put in they’re still enough. You chase that tightening sensation, hips twitching into your own touch. 

Remus doesn’t leave you on your own for long. His hand finds your cunt again, seeking, it seems, every possible way to drive you to madness. He collects the slick pooling by your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds, and when his fingers breach your hole you make a soft, surprised sound that sends his lips down onto your shoulder. 

Instantly, you’re aware of how much better this feels. Remus’ mouth is warm and soft, a contrast against the roughness of his stubble. He sucks at you gently, warming you up like he had your cunt, before letting his teeth scrape lightly over your skin. Your date from last night had been so eager to get your neck into his mouth, suctioning onto you like a parasite and rolling your skin between his teeth in a way that hurt more than it helped. Remus is all temperance. He bites you, and then licks it over to make sure you’re soothed. 

The thought occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t be comparing Remus to someone you actually dated. 

He curls his fingers inside you, and every thought you’ve ever had falls away. All you are is a collection of sensations and wants. 

“You’ve got it, darling, keep going. You’re doing so well.” 

Your fingers and Remus’ working like one mind, until your thighs are shivering and he has to redouble his efforts to keep you still. Your head lolling onto his shoulder, the way his lips transfer to your neck as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His scruff scratching under your jaw, moving as he says your name. 

The myriad of other things he says, sweetheart, baby, good girl, you’re doing so good, growing raspier as the pressure in your core worsens until you worry you’ll shatter if he doesn’t keep ahold of you. 

“Let go,” he instructs, kissing the skin beneath your ear lovingly. “You’re alright, just let go.” 

You choose to trust him, and your body—your being—snaps.

You make sounds you can’t hear, your own fingers stuttering and stopping while Remus works you through the new sensation, murmuring assurances into your skin. Runs his free hand over your trembling thigh. 

Eventually, your mind quiets enough to hear that his breathing is nearly as labored as your own. He slips his fingers out of you. You try to turn around to face him, but your body betrays you, slumping against his front. 

Remus chuckles, smoothing a hand up your side. “Good job, sweetheart. You did beautifully.” He smears a kiss over your cheek. “How was that?” 

You sigh blissfully. Your brain feels pulverized. “Really good.” 

Another soft laugh. “Yeah? Glad to hear it.” 

“Thank you.” You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to look up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice warm with amusement. “Honestly, I should probably be thanking you. I feel quite lucky.” 

You hum bemusedly. Remus’ sex-slicked fingers run lazily over the inside of your thigh. Perhaps your mind is still addled from your orgasm, but this feels incredibly normal to you now. 

“Really? Why?” 

“I just,” he exhales, leaning his head against yours lightly. “I just can’t believe I was the first person to hear you make those sounds.” 

“Oh.” You feel the tickle of embarrassment coming back to you. It draws your shoulders in. “Sorry. Was I very loud?” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Remus turns his head, kissing your temple firmly. “You were perfect.” 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I love your idea of Nerdy!Rafe! Could I pretty please ask for a request? Kind of makes me think of Andrew Garfield as Peter. Kind of that vibe of ‘’first love’’ cuteness and wholesomeness you experience, Rafe’s had a crush on her from a distance. Maybe Reader is not the most outgoing and introverted, maybe she does photography for the school sport teams. They get paired up for a project, and there is lingering tension and he is super nervous, and she catches him staring in awe at her several times. Perhaps as the class wraps up, they walk out together. Sarah is outside to give him her keys or something, and she sells him out by spilling ‘’Oh this is the girl you are always looking at, at your computer 😉 ’’ leaving them and he gets super embarrassed/shy

- PAIRS OF TWO

a/n: I adore this sm

warnings: he’s nervous ash, and lowkey a bit of a stalker but it’s okay..

Rafe Cameron had always felt like he’d never find love.

His whole life, he’s had girlfriends come and go, his self esteem getting crushed each time it happened. Not even Ward, his own father, seemed to like him. He favored Sarah over him each time, no matter how good his grades were or how prestigious the college he went to was.

Now, Rafe felt even more pathetic as he stared at you from afar, almost stuck in a dream-like trance. The words the professor spoke went in to one ear and out the other, it’s not like he didn’t already know this.

He was snapped out of his daze when his professor unexpectedly called on him, everyone turning to him.

Right… the worst part about being the professors top student, was that she knew his name off the top of her head. Your eyes were on him, catching him just as he looked away from you. His cheeks turned a shade of pink, looking at the board and thinking of an answer in his head.

Fucking Econ. It’s not like he wanted to even be working for a business degree, but whatever his father wanted, he got.

“Uhm…” he began to explain the answer, his voice rather quiet. He adjusted his glasses when he was done answering, looking up at the teacher.

She nodded with a smile, “Correct. Thank you, Rafe.”

He looked back to you, to find you looking at the teacher again, a distant look in your eyes while you scribbled down some notes.

He found himself looking at the camera that was hung around your neck. He found himself wondering what you would be doing after this, knowing you, probably taking pictures for their football team at the game later. Or maybe even-

He found himself drifting off in his thoughts again, that he didn’t even notice the way you glanced back at him, noticing his staring, before turning around.

“Now, for the project, I’ve already assigned you guys into random pairs of two,”

This got his attention now. He turned to the teacher now, intrigued. He looked at the long list of names on the teachers screen, narrowing his eyes.

No way.

Group 6, Y/N L/N and Rafe Cameron.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

He looked at you and you looked back at him, you offering him a small smile.

“I don’t wanna hear shit about how you don’t like your partners or whatever- deal with it. And I suggest that you get to know them over the weekend, because you’ll be working with them a lot on this project. Class dismissed.” She spoke, everyone gathering their things, him practically rushing to.

He shoved everything into his backpack, glancing up at you to see you already walking away.

His hopes diminished, a small part of him hoping that he would get to talk to you. It’s okay, he thought, you’d get to talk to her next week.

Wait, the game. You always were at them, taking photos for the team.

Meanwhile, you were walking to your dorm, a small smile on your face, looking down at the camera you had around your neck.

Rafe didn’t know a single thing about football. If anyone asked him for the name of a single player, he would not be able to come up with an answer.

Sports was never his thing, he did baseball when he was young, sure, wrestling was always his dad’s favorite sport, but he could not seem to get into it at all.

His roommate couldn’t even believe it when he heard it.

“No fucking way! Rafe Cameron is going to a football game?”

“Yeah…” he mumbled, rolling his eyes when he chuckled in his face out of disbelief.

“Wait, I bet this is about that one girl.” He said in a sing-song voice, teasing the boy. Rafe shoved him, his cheeks turning beet red out of embarrassment. He couldn’t be more right.

“It is!” He laughed. “I knew it. Hey, don’t worry, I’ll go with you.”

That was not what he wanted, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

You were on the field when he got there, his roommate sitting next to him.

He looked entirely out of place, his light blue shirt, his khakis and his glasses sticking out in the crowd like a sore thumb. Maybe he should have worn school color.

His eyes were not set on the game like everyone’s else’s were, no, his eyes were set on you. The entire time, he watched you snap photos of the team, as well as some of the crowd. When you turned around to look into the crowd, he found the corners of his lips subconsciously curling up into a smile.

On Monday, the professor gave directions for you all to sit with your partners.

He had been working himself up for this exact moment for what felt like months, as well as giving himself a little pep talk in the mirror that his roommate unfortunately heard.

You sat next to him, turning to him with a small smile before facing forward again, listening to the teacher ramble on.

Finally, after minutes of explaining where to find everything, she stopped talking. Rafe pulled open his computer, you opening yours up as well.

“I’m Rafe, by the way.” He spoke, turning to look at you, his hands nervously fidgeting in his lap. Really? That’s the best I could do? He thought to himself.

He was cute, you thought.

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you, Rafe.” You gave him that sweet smile, him returning a smile.

His name sounded heavenly coming from your mouth, and he thinks he’d remember it for the rest of his life.

“So, uhm… what’s your major?” You asked him, just for small conversation.

“Business. What about- what about you?” He replied.

“Marketing and design. But… I really wanna become a photographer. Marketing and designs supposed to be a good major for that.” You nodded.

“That’s- that’s really nice… I just- you know, I’m probably gonna have to take over my dad’s company one day, so… not as interesting.” He said with a nervous chuckle, his hands grabbing the nape of his neck now.

“No, no, that’s nice. That’s… cool. What does-what does he do?”

“He’s uhm- you know, like- like real estate development… kinda boring, but..” He shrugged his shoulders, you smiling.

“I think it’s cool.”

“Uhm- yeah- yeah, thank you.” He laughed, oh god, his palms were so sweaty, his cheeks were so warm and his leg was nervously bouncing up and down. Fuck, he was a mess.

You turned back to you computer, clicking on the app. “Uhm… so I was thinking-“

You were so smart too, he realized when you both started the project. It was like you couldn’t get more perfect.

After an hour, it was time to leave, much to his annoyance. You stood up, and he expected you to leave for a moment, but instead, you did something he’s only dreamed of.

You waited for him. Holy shit. He packed his stuff up quicker, standing next to you, the both of you beginning to walk out the door.

“You’re uhm…” he began, you turning to him now with your head tilted to the side. “You’re really smart.”

You laughed, “Thanks.”

“No- I- I mean it.”

“You are too. More smart than me.” You told him, and he was going to reply when he spotted a familiar face.

“Hey, Rafe.” Sarah stopped him, holding out a key for him. You stopped in your tracks as well, standing next to him.

“Hi.” He murmured, you looking between the two with confusion in your eyes.

“Dad told me to drop this off to you. Said something about coming home this weekend.”

He sighed, taking the keys from her hands. He expected her to leave, but instead, she looked to you.

“Oh! Is this the girl you’re always looking at on your computer?” She held out her hand for you to shake, which you did, with a rather confused look on your face.

“W-Sarah!” He groaned in annoyance. You quirked an eyebrow, she raised her hands in self defense.

“See you.” She spoke, walking away, leaving the two of you.

He couldn’t even look at you, glancing down at his feet, you looking at him with pure confusion on your face.

“You know- I- I dont even know what she’s talking about. She’s like- yeah, no, she’s... crazy. You know..? I’m just gonna… go-“

“Wait, Rafe-“ you grabbed his wrist when he began to walk away, your touch almost causing his soul to fly out of his skin. He looked back with wide eyes, you pulling out your phone.

“Uhm… can I get your number? Just so we can, like, make plans and stuff…” you quickly explained, “You know… finish the project.”

He had to be dreaming.

He nodded, grabbing your phone and putting his number in. “Course. I’ll uh… I’ll… see you around?”

“See you, Rafe.” You gave him a small smile and wave, walking the opposite way.

Taglist:

@moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0

[hemlock-dreams]

What's Spidys relationship like with the other NY bound heros?

Got a bunch of other hero asks so it's time for Ye Olde Lore Dump!

Johnny and H!Spiderman have never gotten along- in either universe.

They don't even really have any real beef with each other, they're just two dudes who grate on each other's nerves for no particular reason- like two guys at a frat party who are just waiting for an excuse to duke it out.

There's just something about Johnny's playboy easy-come-and-go vibe that makes Spidey want to plant a fist in his face. And Johnny thinks Spiderman is a fucking buzzkill.

Black Widow and Spiderman have a good working relationship. He once helped her out of a tight spot in New York and he was fast, smart and discreet about it- so when she's got some ops she needs a second pair of hands for (under the table), she calls him.

Spiderman admires Nat's competence and single-minded focus in getting things done- they all appeal to the hunter in him. (And he's got a massive crush on her.)

They usually do one or two jobs every few months, and meet up for drinks at one of her safehouses. She's also knows his secret identity, because she's just that scary.

Logan and Peter are BFFs. For real. Logan was in town to help with some shit that ended up involving Deadpool and found himself at St. Margaret's.

He and Peter struck up a friendship that ends up with them going camping every couple of months for a week or so.

Logan likes Peter's no-bullshit sincerity and can tell he's had some shit(TM) go down in his life. Peter's easy to talk to and is good at reading the room. And Peter feels like Logan fills in that space Marko left as a friend/mentor/gruff bro figure.

Logan actually picks up when Peter calls. (most others he leaves on read).

Fun fact, he has no idea Peter is Spiderman.

And another fun fact, it's not Johnny Deadpool is jealous of, it's Logan.

Peter has a very complicated relationship with the Avengers.

On one hand, he knows what they do and what they stand for- on the other hand, he's got a real problem with authority figures. He's been invited to the Avengers multiple times, in both realities.

The answer is always blanket N.O. (And, depending on whether it's stark asking, accompanied by a giant middle finger). (Though he's reluctantly agreed to have an avenger's phone in case there are any massive threats they need help with).

As for the members:

Stark gets on his nerves like nothing else. He's not super easy to rile up, but Stark's playboy arrogance (real or not), way he talks down at people, the self-appointed authority, the entitlement, and, of course, the fucking hypocrisy- it makes Spidey go 0 to 'cashmeoutside' immediately.

He and the Captain sometimes get along, but mostly when the Captain isn't in one of his preachy, pontificating moments. They do work very well together in a combat capacity, but they don't have much to talk about.

Thor is fine, but completely outside of Spidey's sphere and also, difficult to work with given his powers.

Bruce and Spidey just don't have much to talk about, and once again, Hulk is way too loud and can't particularly coordinate when they have to team up.

In general, H!Spiderman gets along with the more 'loner' heroes like Murdock, Deadpool, Black Widow, Bucky, Logan, Clint and so on.

(Side note, imagine he said all these shots fired shit to the Avengers and they were like 'no? none of this happened?' because it's not the same reality and Spiderman has to go home and die from the cringe???) (no we'll let him be cool for this)

-----

Once again, thank you so much for the asks!! I really appreciate all the love this AU has gotten and I hope these answers satisfy!!!

[marauder-misprint]

Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!

My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.

Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!

I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3

I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡

Sunshine Incarnate

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, angst

“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.

“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.

“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”

Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.

“A tease?” Remus asks.

Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.

“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”

Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone. 

“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”

“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.” 

“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they? 

“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished. 

“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble. 

“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says. 

Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors. 

“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”

His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks. 

“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book. 

“That damned Potions essay,” James answers. 

“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”

James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”

“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”

“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward. 

You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.” 

“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”

“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.

You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to. 

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”

As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.

“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”

“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”

“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”

“You’re daft,” James confirms.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match. 

“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. 

“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.

“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.

“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.

Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes. 

“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”

“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”

“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.

“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”

“Why?” Sirius presses.

“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly. 

“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes. 

“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”

“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks. 

“I, uh, I guess so.” 

Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine. 

Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you. 

---

In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness. 

That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.

“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him. 

“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you. 

He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.

“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”

Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”

You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.

“I got this at breakfast.”

It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face. 

“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.” 

Remus feels his face heat at the compliment. 

“You’re not rubbish at them.”

“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.

“Notes… to me?” 

It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon. 

“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie. 

“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’

“Yes?”

You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did. 

“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”

You hold out one for him to take.

You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!

“That, uh, that should be the first one.”

His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over. 

“You kept them?”

You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note. 

He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.

“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”

You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.

“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

You’re certain your face is as red as his. 

“This weekend then?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.

“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.” 

He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him. 

---

“How did that go, Moony?”

“You are bastards. All of you.”

“How did it go?”

“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.

“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”

“Projecting?”

“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”

[bubsmiraculousau]

These r my first brainstorm pages for the ot5 civillian miraculous designs! Some of their styles I imagine would shift throughout the hypothetical series, esp Adrien and Marinette.

Adrien dresses like a little businessman, preppy in the most direct sense of the word, was taught to dress well to leave a good impression. Gabriel believes that every man should just wear a suit all the time, so Adrien's sweaters and khakis are a compromise. He basically only wears neutrals.

Marinette dresses in mainly pink, but dabbles in other colors as well. I think she would always have some kind of comfortable fabric on, and customizes her clothing with embroidery and things like that. I think she also just likes all the rainbow colors too.

Chloe is a true y2k girlie, Megan Fox's character's outfits from confessions of a teenage drama queen is her vibe. Blue, yellow, brown/beige, b&w, are her main look.

Ngl I have no idea what to do with Nino he just dresses like a guy. I think he's the most comfortable in looser clothing. I try to incorporate green into his outfits to tie into the turtle miraculous and him being friends with Adrien. His in-show design literally has like every color in it probably to tie all the characters into each other but it kills me to draw that lol. I'm much better with designing women's clothes...

Alya has tumblr girl style. She loves a black graphic tee and takes black and white pictures of her converse. She basically dresses like the girls I thought were so cool in middle school. Like c'mon she has a blog and Balayage hair, what other style would she be? (Also random fact but when I heard of 'twee' style I thought it just meant all Tumblr girl style not just the peter pan collar stuff lol) I think people call it Tumblr grunge as well? idk

I have a different updated lineup of the civilian classmates and I might make individual posts describing their vibe, background, inspiration, and style because fashion is very important w my characters lol. xx

[greyhoundone]

Some things I found interesting from Rachel Talalay's live commentary of Heaven Sent at Chicago TARDIS:

- The story was originally set in a haunted house with weeping angels.

- Sometimes a single line would be shot across a mix of three locations: two actual castles and a set.

- The script was clear that the castle should have no interior lighting except for the fireplace where The Doctor dries their clothes. Rachel got some pushback from the crew on a shaft of light coming at an angle from outside, asking where the light came from. Her response was, "It doesn't have to come from anywhere. It comes from 'It looks good.'"

- Rachel worked to give more of a horror vibe to certain scenes. She did things like add a spooky wind, have Peter play the tone more for horror, and even consult with Murray Gold to keep the tone consistent. She also pushed for a “creepy garden” as opposed to the formal garden Moffat had scripted.

- Jenna wasn’t available for most of the shots where Clara is writing on the TARDIS chalkboards. They originally used a double, but the double was too obviously not Jenna. It was actually the person who did the colour grading who found other usable shots of Jenna from behind and put them in the final episode.

- Everyone was very worried about Peter hurting his hand punching the wall, especially since he had hurt his hand punching the TARDIS console in "Death in Heaven." They were going to have Peter just fake the punch and get a stunt person for close-ups, but Peter insisted on doing the punches himself because of the importance of the moment for his character. Rachel agreed on the condition that, "If you hurt yourself, you're the one who tells your wife." (He did not hurt himself again.)

- When the Doctor burns themselves and their hand dissolves away to nothing, the hand was sculpted out of Lush bath bombs. Rachel had the idea and suggested it as a cost-effective solution. So they just sculpted Peter's hand out of bath bombs and poured some water on it.

- When the Doctor breaks through the wall and the Veil collapses, the collapse was achieved by filling the Veil costume with helium balloons and then popping them.

[casuallyawkardd]

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: When reader refuses to go on a mission, Miguel decides to pay a home visit to figure out why 

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR ATSV! fluff, slight hurt/comfort and angst if you squint hard enough, Miguel is a softie around kids, it’s giving slow burn/platonic vibes, not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct my wording/punctuation

A/N: This is kind of my way of dipping my toes back into the world of fanfiction writing, if ya’ll end up liking it I was planning on making it a little series of sorts. Not necessarily a multipart story, rather just little moments following the same general characters. I took the liberty of assigning a gender and name to the reader’s daughter since that sounded like it’d be easier in terms of writing, the rest is still like any Y/N story. Reader is also a spider person, but I’m not married to the idea for future oneshots? Drabbles? I don’t know what you kids call them nowadays...

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

It had only been a couple months since you had joined Spider-Society and, while you were still trying to find your footing, things were going a lot better than expected. There was a comradery with being around other people with the same abilities, who had experienced the same losses, victories and all that came with wearing the mask. You had found some good friends among the other Spiders, particularly with Peter B and Jess, as there was a common ground there that you had yet to share with them; something that the three of you had in common.

That commonality was currently asleep in the other room, your daughter Vada. For once, it had been a day where the radios were quiet. No calls from HQ to go on missions, no worrying chatter on the police radios, so you had taken the day to spend time with your daughter. The three year old was going through a phase where she was having nightmares almost every night, so the day was spent at home relaxing. From watching movies, to cooking meals together, Vada had been your little shadow all day and you had enjoyed every second of it.  While your toddler had tuckered herself out, you were restless, curled up on the couch watching TV at a low enough volume that only you could hear, thanks to your heightened senses. It may have been almost midnight, but that was still considered an early night for you. Used to the regime of patrolling until early in the morning and crawling into bed to get a few hours asleep before Vada came in to ask for her breakfast. Just as you were starting to feel the pull of sleep on your eyelids, letting the quiet calm sink into your bones, the moment was then yanked from you. When the beeping started the first time, you had acted on instinct to silence the noise. Your hand practically slapped the Gizmo on your wrist, the same Gizmo given to you by Miguel when you had joined his Spider-Society.  Ugh, Miguel. It was a damn shame that such a pretty face was wasted on a sourpuss like him. While being the leader of an elite group of Spider-People sounded like no easy task, there were times the man definitely took it too seriously. Sure, he had a great work ethic and was a respectable leader, but that all came with the downside that you couldn’t stand being around him for more than five minutes. You two hadn’t gotten off on the right foot and it seemed like he wouldn’t let you live that down. Ever the stern, cold-hearted leader, barking orders and chewing your ass out if something went wrong. He hardly ever smiled and when he did it was condescending, almost smug as he questioned just how intelligent you actually were. A waste of a pretty face indeed.

That pretty face came to mind when you looked down at your Gizmo, which was beeping once more, finally processing that it was Miguel who was trying to contact you. Shit.

“Hello?” your voice is quiet, wary as you answer him finally; trying to keep quiet for the toddler sleeping in the other room. Also because of the worry that you’ve pissed him off once again.

“Why aren’t you answering?” his voice cuts through the silence, monotone and firm. “An anomaly was detected on Earth-616, go take care of it. Ben Reilly and Peter Parker from Earth-13122 are already en route.”

“I....can’t,” you cringe as the word leaves your mouth. The pregnant pause that follows feels like an eternity.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?” He spits the word back at you, like you offended him with just the one syllable. More silence follows, Miguel waiting for your answer and you not knowing what to say. “...Is something wrong?”

“I have to go,” you end the call, not even registering the concern that had slid its way into his tone. With a heavy sigh, you lay your head against the back of the couch, regretting how you handled the situation, but thankful it was dealt with. That is until the familiar sound of a portal opening and closing disturbs your precious quiet once more. 

It makes you almost jump out of your skin, physically lurching off the couch, the warm hues from the light of the portal filling your living room and disappearing as quickly as they came. In their place is Miguel, clad in his spidersuit from head to toe. A wave of emotions goes through you, the look of shock, confusion and anger crossing your face in less than a second. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, glancing around the space and disengaging his mask when he doesn’t register any immediate threats.

“What are you doing here!?” it takes all you have not to shout the words at him, instead resorting to a sort of hiss to keep your voice down. Miguel doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“This is why you couldn’t come? Because you’re too busy lounging around and watching trash TV?” he isn’t shouting per se, rather his tone makes him sound louder. That and the quiet of your apartment probably amplified his voice even more. “I know the weight of keeping the multiverse intact might go over your head, but the least you could do is be there for your teammates. I don’t allow slackers in my-” “Shh!” you’re moving towards him without even realizing, motherly instinct telling you to silence the noise that dared try to wake your daughter. Your hand reaches to cover his loud mouth and Miguel takes a step back to avoid your touch, the frustration reflecting in his eyes turning into red, hot anger. 

“Did you just ‘shh’ me!?” he sounds as if he’s in disbelief, his voice now actually rising in volume. You stumble over your words, trying to apologize and explain yourself all at once. Now it’s his turn to step towards you, his imposing frame towering over you and you can’t help but shrink back, “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you don’t get your ass in your suit, I’ll-”

“Mama?” Vada’s little voice cuts through the air, both Miguel and you freezing. When you turn to look at your daughter, who’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, it feels like everything around you fades away. The static of the TV, Miguel, everything until all you can focus on is Vada. She’s clearly distressed, as you come to kneel in front of her you can see the tears in her big round eyes, the redness around them and on her nose, the slight tremble in her bottom lip. You know what’s wrong before she even has to explain.

“Sweet girl, another one?” you ask calmly, a hand going to stroke her hair. Vada nods, confirming your suspicion that she had been roused by yet another nightmare. The creak of the floorboards alerts you of Miguel taking a step closer and you’re suddenly very much aware of his presence once again. However, your eyes don’t leave Vada’s crying face. “Let’s get you back into bed,” you try to coax her into heading back the way she came, your toddler only resisting and shaking her head firmly.

“I want Mama’s bed,” she demands, sounding groggy as the sleep she had just risen from had yet to fully leave her. Vada doesn’t even let you respond before her tiny arms wrap around your neck, face pressing into the junction of your neck and shoulder, “Want you,” she mutters against you, the exhaustion and distress in her voice making your heart ache for her. “Vada,” you sigh heavily, exhausted as well. Exhausted from the heavy workload of being Spider-Woman not just for your universe, but other universes as well. Exhausted from the fact your child couldn’t get a wink of sleep and seeing her frustrated made you frustrated as well. You cave, scooping your daughter up in your arms and standing. Her body molds to yours, relaxing against your frame like it had done so many times before. As you rub her back and kiss her temple, you’re forced to turn and deal with the elephant in the room. Or rather the spider. 

You expect Miguel to look annoyed, as usual, but he isn’t. In fact, the anger he was prepared to unleash on you moments ago seems to have vanished, replaced with a look of curiosity, intrigue and dare you say....awe? He’s looking at Vada, who’s about to pass out in your arms, with a softened expression, the sight of the small girl seeming to tug the corners of his mouth up just slightly.

Huh.

Miguel seems to catch himself staring, shaking his head to clear the fog and meeting your gaze once more. “I...didn’t know,” is all he can say, not as confident in the way he stands.

“No one knows,” you reply in a much harsher tone than you intended. After a deep breath, you adjust how you speak, “I’ve only been on the team for a couple months. It’s not that I don’t trust the other spiders...I just want to be careful, yah know?” Miguel nods along with what you say and you can’t help but keep talking to fill the now awkward silence, “Usually I have someone to watch her, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a day to just give her all my attention- I promise, it won’t happen again. I know that I should answer if you call-”

“Cállate,” Miguel cuts you off and you’re almost grateful he’s saved you from rambling. There’s another moment of silence before he sighs, “You don’t have to explain yourself, really. If I had known,” he waves a hand to indicate to your daughter, “this was the reason you were ignoring my calls, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you. Your daughter comes first, I get it.”

His words hit harder than they should. Every Spider-Person had heard the story. How Miguel was willing to put his own duties aside to live in a universe where he had a daughter of his own. Replacing the him of that universe, who had died tragically, to live the life he had always wanted; only to have that universe crumble around him. Literally. It explained his cold demeanor, you’d probably be a bitch too if your daughter died in your arms, but that coldness you had become accustomed to seemed to melt away the longer he took in the sight of you holding your daughter.

“You said her name’s Vada?” he asks, stepping a little closer. Normally, you would probably keep your distance from him, maternal instincts in overdrive with an imposing figure like Miguel so close to Vada, but you stay in place. Not bothered by his presence for once. He’s looking at you, expecting an answer, and you nod your head. He hums, “How old?”

“Three,” you answer and he hums again. “...Is everything okay? Regarding the mission?”

“Huh? Oh,” he clears his throat, adjusting his stance and taking a small step back. When had he gotten so close to you? “I think those two should be fine on their own. Earth-13122′s Spider-Man knows what he’s doing and-”

“You know, you can just call him Lego Spider-Man. Everyone calls him Lego Spider-Man.”

“That’s not his correct title.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile, holding back a laugh at how serious Miguel seemed to be about the subject. “...Well, I think it’s time we go to bed.”

“Right, right,” Miguel moves like he’s about to walk out the front door, seeming to forget that he had come via portal and catching himself as his hand grasps the handle. Has he always been this socially awkward? He turns to look at you again, “Should I just...?”

“Yes, please open your noisy portal outside.”

“Claro que sí,” he nods in understanding, opening the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses again, turning to look back at you, “Even if you’re busy, you should still answer when I call. I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” you repeat, a bit of teasing in your voice.

“Worried as in the normal amount of worried.”

“Sure, sure, O’Hara.”

“I’m leaving now,” he huffs, turning to leave again. Yet he can’t help but stop one more time, “Goodnight.”

He finally leaves, door shutting with a soft click. You go to the door to lock it, carrying Vada into your room for bed. It seems that she had managed to fall back asleep despite your little interaction with Miguel. As you lay down and pull the comforter over the two of you, Vada snuggling impossibly close to you once more, you lie there thinking about what had just transpired. 

Maybe his pretty face wasn’t a waste. 

Tags:

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[sundrop-writes]

you were nice to me and acknowledged my existence so i hope you know that means you’ve unknowingly asked for all my dumbass, hyper-specific 12AM bullshit thoughts.

you can turn this into a mini blurb or teen wolf pack headcanon - whatever works for you, but who do you think in the pack is would be into you wearing a necklace (or any form of jewelry really) with their name/initial on it? are they buying it for you or is it something you would have to initiate, do they want one too with your name/initial on it?

i know it’s not everyone’s thing but i think it can be really adorable 🥰

if this isn’t your vibe just let me know, no biggie 🩷

This is absolutely my vibe!!! I love this prompt so much omg. Also, I love it when people come to me with their random 12am bullshit - whether it's just to rant in my inbox about fictional characters or to suggest fic ideas. This is what Tumblr inboxes are for

My requests for Teen Wolf are open!! Just make sure to read my rules first!!

What would the pack think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?

A/N: I changed it from an initial to a representative symbol, partially because of a tiktok that Star sent me the other day of someone selling Teen Wolf necklaces in an Etsy shop that I can't stop thinking about and I want one so badly, and partially because I think Derek's tattoo would make a really amazing necklace.

Warnings: descriptions of canon level violence, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible (please let me know if I messed up anywhere on that), Isaac's low self eesteem due to his father's abuse, mentions of Jackson x Lydia, references to sex (but nothing descriptively smutty), I think that's it.

Includes: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes (I got tired while writing this so that's all the characters we have lmao)

Derek would love it. It would be his idea - he would be the one to give you the necklace.

He met you shortly before becoming an Alpha, and you were the defining member of his pack. You were the first person he had bitten in order to turn them - you had been bleeding out outside of the Hale house after Peter had stuck his claws through your stomach, sensing Derek's attachment to you (even if it was something that Derek himself hesitated to admit), and he had called Derek weak for taking a liking to you. So the moment after Derek had slashed Peter's throat open, making him the Alpha, he had used his new found power to bite you, ultimately saving your life.

You were someone he had once viewed as his weakness, but he had come to realize that you were his ultimate strength. You showed him how to interact with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd with kindness and understanding, you showed him how to harness his Alpha power with more than just the anger he harboured inside. You showed him love - something his isolated heart hadn't felt in years.

To him, the triskele tattoo on his back represented the three forms of a wolf could take - the powerful, leading Alpha, the following Beta, and isolated, weak Omega. It represents how a wolf can rise to power, but he can also fall to weakness if he's not careful.

When he gave you a necklace with that same symbol as its pendant, he explained to you why it was so important to him that you wear it.

"You have helped me rise to my full potential." He told you, pinning the clasp behind your neck. "Every time I look at this around your neck, I want to be reminded of that. I want to be reminded not to fall to anything less." He kissed the base of your neck, causing you to break into a large smile as his thick, warm arms wrapped around you from behind. "I need to be reminded to serve you a good, loyal Alpha every single day. Not to fall back into my former weaknesses."

"I thought I was your weakness?"

"No. You're my strength."

Isaac would be unsure about it. And it most definitely was not his idea.

It started with you and Lydia hanging out before a lacrosse game - the two of you were getting ready in her room, and while she finished up her makeup, she said 'oh!' as if suddenly remembering something, and then went to her jewellery box. You looked on in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace, and when you squinted closer, you saw that it was a silver pendant with the number 37 on it.

"What's that?" You asked.

"It's Jackson's jersey number." She told you. "It's good luck for a player's girlfriend to wear his jersey number, and I didn't want some big ugly jacket with the numbers written on the back."

It made you wonder if you should wear Isaac's jersey number to the game, even though the two of you had been playing around with dating, not exactly official. Isaac was hesitant on PDA and labels. Lydia encouraged you, though, and she ended up using a red lipstick to write his number 14 on your cheek, making you look like a crazed fan - but everybody at the game already knew who you were there for.

Before the next game, Lydia gifted you with a necklace similarly to her own, with the promise that she wouldn't have to freeze her ass off in the stands alone - and to her, it was like the two of you had matching best friend necklaces, representing the lugheads that you cheered for on the field together. At first, you only wore it to games. But then you found comfort in wearing it all the time.

Isaac, of course, took notice of this - his eyes easily magnetized to the number 14 glimmering on the silver chain around your neck.

He felt like he didn't deserve to have a mark on you. He was undeserving of claiming you, undeserving of being called your 'boyfriend'. He was worthless, and you wearing something that represented some kind of serious relationship between the two of you - why did you want him? Why?

After a long, tiring night of talking, some tears, and eventually some kissing - he finally understood. And from then on, he was more than proud to have his 14 constantly shining around your neck.

Scott would love it. But it would be your idea.

The two of you had to date in secret - your family had a loyalty, an alignment with the Argents, so you couldn't be seen with Scott in public, creating a deep frustration between the two of you when you couldn't hold hands in the hallways or go on 'real' dates like other couples could. Scott expressed a deep frustration at loving you, being your boyfriend, but not getting to be yours twenty-four seven like he wanted to, and that's what caused you to come up with the idea.

You got a silver heart locket necklace, and inside, put a picture of the two of you. Well - it was a piece of the picture of the two of you. You grabbed a photo of the two of you kissing, and cut out the space that had formed between your necks when your lips came together in a kiss - to anybody else (most important, if your family saw it) it would have looked like a photo of blank sky. But you and Scott were the only two people in the world who knew what the photo truly was.

And you gave him the rest of the photo with the missing heart shape cut out between the two of you so that he could be reminded of your next words every single time he looked at it.

"The space between us isn't what matters." You told him firmly, pointing to the space you had cut out of the photo. "No matter how big that space gets, we always know how much we love each other. We'll always have each other."

From then on, every single time he looked at the silver heart dangling around your neck, it was something he remembered with a smile. No matter how far the two of you had to be apart, no matter for how long - your love kept you together.

Stiles would absolutely love it. It would be his idea.

Stiles would be incredibly shy and shitting his pants nervous about asking you to wear his numbers, but the week before, you had asked him to be your boyfriend after a roaring success of a first date that he had no clue how he landed with you. His first game as a first linger was coming up, and he felt like things could only go up from here.

He had you, he was first line, so - he steadied his courage as he tightly gripped the black velvet box that had the shiny gold necklace in it, praying that this wouldn't be too much, too soon. Praying that he wasn't going to scare you off.

"Um, hey." He greeted you at your locker, a ball of nervous energy that had you giving him a questioning eyebrow.

"Good morning." You smiled at him, wondering why he was acting so strange. You leaned in and kissed him on the lips - a light, chaste kiss in greeting, and he felt himself nearly knocked over by the joy of it.

This was really real. He had you.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning toward the box in his hands.

"Oh, uh - a gift." He said. "For you."

"Stiles, you didn't have to. It's not my birthday or anything."

"I know." He said. "I want to - to do something special. To celebrate you being mine."

An intense wave of butterflies overtook you at this, and you look on in awe as he opened the box, presenting the necklace to you.

"It's - um - it's my jersey number. Ya know - 24. Just - it's a thing that people usually do, wearing their boyfriend's number... and I - am I being too weird? I'm sorry." He went off rambling the longer that you didn't speak, and you quickly raised a hand to his wrist, trying to calm him with a soothing touch there.

"I love it." You assured him with a smile. "Thank you. I can't wait to wear it."

"I could... help you put it on now?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and he excitedly grabbed it out of the box.

From then on, you never took it off. You were more than proud to be his, and proud to show it off by wearing the necklace.

Erica would fucking love it, but it wouldn't really be intentional on either of your behalves.

One thing Erica never expected about becoming a werewolf - how possessive it would make her. But being able to smell when someone had touched you, being able to hear how hard your heart pounded when you were scared or anxious - it made her want to rip apart anybody who even looked at you the wrong way. The two of you weren't even officially dating. Your friendship always crossed weird lines - you were the only person who was kind to her when she was an outcast, and after she transformed, you were the only person she knew for certain didn't just want her for her body.

The sex between the two of you was amazing, but you never talked about feelings.

One night in the haste of undressing, she dropped a necklace on your floor - a nameplate necklace that her parents had gotten for her birthday a few years ago. You didn't want to forget to bring it back to her, and you thought it was funny, a kind of joke - so you put it on. You thought nothing of having the name 'Erica' dangling around your neck in bold silver letters.

When Erica saw it - it drove all of her wolfish instincts insane. Seeing her claim on you, her name literally written across you - it took everything she had in her not to throw you across a table in the middle of the library and fuck your brains out, then and there.

And she saw the way other people reacted to it too. The way guys would go to flirt with you, but then their eyes would dart down to the necklace and then look to her, as if finally noticing her presence glaring at them, telling them to back off - and then they would scatter in fear. It was the first time in weeks that the two of you actually had peace.

So she implored you to keep it. She loved having a silent little claim on you. After all, wolves love claiming their territory, right?

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[nocek]

Some Miguel and Gabriella doodles form last month :) I just hadn't had the motivation to turn them into proper drawings.

But the bottom two actually are part of my headcanons:

So starting with the happy one as in the one on the right:

I headcanon that Miguel actually ended in Gabriella's universe on accident and the multiversal travel didn't exist yet (to be more precise it was invented to look for Gabriella's father because Miguel didn't know that he was dead and just assumed they like switched places or something) and he explained the whole situation to Gabriella rightaway (because there is no way to be able to fit into another dude's life without a hitch even with I was bonked in the head recently excuse).

Gabriella was skeptical but decided to approach whole situation sitcom style. Dad was replaced by awkward but caring dude with superpowers - let's help him but also try the new boundaries. So she approached with hey dad runs twice a week and I ride the bike with him. I can show you our favorite route! And then proceeded to extend the route muuuuuch beyond what was humanly possible for her dad. And then beyond what was possible for her just out of curiosity if Miguel will ask to stop. Well he didn't so now after long ice cream break he needs to carry her home because she totally absolutely is beat and cannot cycle anymore (and also this way is more fun).

And the second separate depressing au headcanon that is not as tied to the picture but I guess I'll share it here:

While the Gabriella's universe was falling apart all the spiders there just grabbed as many civilians as possible and jumped through the portals. So Gabriella and couple dozen displaced people are alive at spiders hq and things are maybe better but also worse.

Since Gabriella is alive Miguel can't go sulk in the corner in his office. He needs to put on a front for her. Which most likely doubles the pressure that he already puts on himself.

Gabriella isn't an idiot and figures it out so she also tries to put on a front.

But to add a little spider whimsy and make the whole thing a bit happier - here comes Gwen.

Miguel was just as grumpy about letting her join spider society as was in the movie buuuuut Gabriela decided that Gwen being the slightly older girl with a little bit of alternative vibe is the coolest person ever and we will be best friends. And you are a ballerina!!!! I want to try ballet too!

Which in turn forced Miguel to be nice like to other Gabriella's friends and maybe be a bit more mindful and realize that Gwen needs more than place to stay and new friends and coworkers. She is too young to just jump into adulthood. She needs her father or better father figure.

And he tries to dump that on Peter B which doesn't work because Peter suffers form serious case of baby brain but also sees Gwen more like a equal adult and friend.

Besides the idea of Miguel trying to be nice and failing at because he approaches it form his experience with Gabriella standpoint while dealing with teenager is kinda fun and I like it.

[snapscube]

hi penny! im sure im not the first person to ask this, but- is there a reason the psychonauts dub didnt pan out? super excited for the kingdom hearts dub!! just curious as to why that particular dub idea wasn't seen through?

it was a few reasons! i honestly just lost a lot of steam for it once i started recording the footage. if i had to guess it was a combination of life circumstances not really being Ideal for me at the time, but also the more obvious setback is just that.... the game doesn't really NEED the fandub treatment??? at all?

not to say that any game ever "NEEDS" our stupid bits layered on top of it in the most literal sense, but there are certain dynamics when it comes to picking a game for the format that i have to take into account. what's the tone of the original work, what is the dialogue pacing like, how story heavy is it even to begin with, etc. Psychonauts has the disadvantage (specifically for dubbing purposes) of being a game that already feels almost like a parody of itself. it's EXTREMELY funny just on its own. RTF as a format, i think, is most effective when the source material's original tone and dramatic weight is juxtaposed with improvisational humor in SOME way. Sonic games have a heightened otherwordly shonen vibe that becomes uncannily hilarious when paired with the inherent candidness of improv. Until Dawn and RE2 are dark, atmospheric horror titles that pair well with improv purely through the GULF in tonal dissonance being inherently funny. Spider-Man is a superhero blockbuster story, and RTF lessens the scope EXCEEDINGLY in incredibly dumb and endearing ways (instead of peter needing an anti-serum to cure a deadly plague ravaging the city, he needs it to keep himself from turning into a table). And so on and so forth.

I basically just ended up feeling like there's really not much we could do to bring value to the project of a Psychonauts dub that wouldn't be energy better spent on games that were a better fit overall. Cause, yknow, at the end of the day these already take SO long to come out. I really gotta be economical with the game choices nowadays.

[alisonwritesimagines]

Naps in the Quinjet ~Peter Parker Imagine~

Requested by @manyfandomsfanvergent:

Peter Parker x female!Stark!reader

Reader and Peter getting back from a mission, on the quinjet, and the other avengers can't get over how adorable they are

Bc they are all cuddled, and how about Peter got a mild concussion so he's just snuggling int reader

Summary: After a rough mission, both you and Peter crash together in the quinjet.

Author’s Note: I got physically sick last night from being in charge of a family trip because no one understands a certain amusement park like I do.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of concussions, injuries, reader gives out some Alex Russo vibes

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Your father was never fond of the idea of you joining the Avengers team. However, it was bound to happen since your father was non other than Tony Stark. So you were a target to most enemies.

When your father took in Peter Parker after the civil war fiasco, you two have been together like glue. You both were the same age, liked the same stuff, and you two had fought many enemies together side by side.

However, this mission was harsher than any one that you and Peter have faced. Your father had to carry you back to the quinjet before setting you down on a bench.

"You should've been more careful," your father scolded you.

"I was careful," you tell him.

"No you weren't. Because if you were careful, you wouldn't have a wound on the side of your body," your father tells you.

"It's technically a minor wound," you tell him.

"Minor or not, I'm still upset you got hurt," your father tells you. "And that goes for you to."

You looked over at Peter who sat next to you. Peter had a cut on his head that was making him bleed a little. You frowned a little as you stared at his cut. Natasha walked over to the two of you before fixing Peter up a little until you guys got back.

"You okay, Peter?" You asked him.

"I'll be alright."

"You two can be reckless, you know that?" Tony tells you two, looking at you both with a stern look.

"But we survived," you pointed out. Tony gave you a look, making you quiet.

"Let's head out already so the two can be checked out," Tony tells Clint and Steve.

"On our way," Clint told Tony as he began the quinjet.

"Peter?" You asked.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna take a nap?"

"Yeah."

Natasha noticed you both first. She smiled softly as you leaned your head onto Peter's shoulder with his arm wrapped around you. His head was leaned back against the wall, making him look up at the ceiling as he slept.

"Steve," Natasha said quietly.

"What?"

"Look," Natasha pointed over. He looked over and smiled at the two of you.

"Tony's gonna have a blast when he sees that," Steve chuckled.

"Hold on. Before you tell him or before he finds out," Natasha said before taking out her phone. She snapped a photo of the two of you before smirking at the photo.

"Okay, now he can see the two," Natasha joked.

"Hey, Tony," Steve called out to get his attention.

"What?"

"How do you feel about y/n dating?" Steve asked him.

"I'm not ready for her to date," Tony said.

"Well you might need to get ready soon," Natasha said as she looked over at the two of you.

Tony followed her gaze to see you comfortably sleeping on Peter. Both Steve and Natasha smiled at Tony's small look of disapproval.

"He's a good kid. Plus they always hang out. What will be the difference?" Steve asked Tony.

"Because I would need to see him as a potential threat to her," Tony pointed out.

"How is Peter a potential threat to y/n?" Natasha asked.

"Because she is my little girl and if anyone hurts her, I will throw them up in space without any oxygen," Tony told her.

"Oh please. For anything, it would be Peter to get hurt from y/n," Natasha told him.

"Let them sleep. They need it," Steve told the two.

Once you all made it back to the base, you woke up to feeling Peter's arm around you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked up at Peter.

"Peter. Wake up," you whispered as you gently woke him up.

"Hmm?" Peter asked as his eyes opened up a little.

"We're back. Let's go get fixed up. And then maybe later, we can watch a movie?" You asked.

"I would need to check in with my aunt first," Peter told her.

"Of course. But whenever you're available, we can have a movie night?" You asked.

"I'd like that," Peter said as he helped you over to the infirmary.

"I bet you ten bucks those two will get together within the week," Natasha tells Steve.

"Ten bucks says Tony is going to have a small fit over her dating," Steve added.

"You're on," Natasha smirked at Steve as the two shook on it.

Bonus:

"You two are dating?!" Tony asked in shock.

"Yes. And I am old enough to date. Don't make me remind you of your dating history," you pointed out.

"At least it's with Peter," Pepper pointed out.

"Thank you," you tell her.

"Just no kissing in front of me okay?" Tony said.

"No promises."

While you and your father argued about your dating life, Peter looked at Natasha and Steve confused on why Natasha gave Steve ten dollars. The three were sitting together while they watched you defend your relationship with Peter.

"Why did you give Cap ten dollars?" Peter asked Natasha.

"Don't worry about it kid."