Aaaa thank you for asking! I couldn’t wait to go home to do this haha
What they smell like: Wears excessive cologne like most young boys
How they sleep: Dreams and moves A LOT, and ends up in some pretty unholy positions.
What music they enjoy: Alternative rock
How much time they spend getting ready every morning: Peter is usually up WAY earlier than most people, and is very quick to grab his stuff, brush his teeth and go out.
Their favorite thing to collect: Other people’s discarded bad photos of Spiderman, in which he sees himself as a cryptid. Kind of a joke for him.
Left or right-handed: Right handed
Religion (if any): (Unsure)
Favorite sport: Anything involving jumping and leaping.
Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling: Photographing other people in happy moments
Favorite kind of weather: Cloudy
A weird/obscure fear they have: I wanted to say something goofy such as ‘spiders’ or 'heights’, but let’s go deeper. With all this boy has experienced in his life, I’d say he has an intense fear of losing people that are dear to him; whenever it happens, he finds a way to blame himself even if it couldn’t be helped.
The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: Hoops! Like aiming and throwing hoops. That’s a thing, right?! (*has no idea what american carnival is like*)
I know so little about Peter Parker but yeah this was really fun to do!! Thanks again ^-^
It’s your fault.
That’s what you found out today. You went to the doctor because you and your
husband Shawn have been trying to get pregnant for a few months, and you both thought it would be a good idea to see if there was a
reason why or if anything was wrong. You know that sometimes it just takes a
while to get pregnant, so since it had only been a few months of trying, you
weren’t too worried.
But the doctor
ran tests on both you and Shawn, and the test results just came back today. It
turns out that Shawn is perfectly fine and capable of getting you pregnant, but
the problem is that you can’t get pregnant, something about being infertile.
You barely heard much of what the doctor said in that office. All you heard was
that it was your fault, and that’s all you needed to hear to spend the rest of
the meeting just trying to keep yourself from falling apart. The doctor was
telling you about other options, about things you could do instead. Shawn’s
hand was securely in yours the entire meeting, his thumb comfortingly running
along the back of your hand, but it didn’t make you feel much better.
Do you ever think about how crazy it is that we’re only 18?“
Shawn was running his callused finger tip up and down my arm as we laid in bed, wearing only our underwear and laying above the sheets in the blue darkness. I was laying just under his arm, avoiding contact with him because of the heat but wanting to stay as close as I could. His finger on my arm was the only place our skin met. I looked up to him with his words, then back to the ceiling fan whirring in nearly invisible circles.
"What do you mean?” I asked, wanting to hear his thoughts. Shawn paused.
“I don’t know. Besides you, I’m surrounded by people older than me, you know? I just feel like a baby sometimes.” He said softly. I spent a minute to take in what he was saying.
“I know what you mean. We’re only 18, out of- what, probably 85 years? That’s barely any time at all. There’s so much left.” I replied.
“But at the same time, around Aaliyah, I feel so old, you know? Thinking back to when I was her age feels like forever ago. I used to think 18 year olds had everything figured out, their whole lives. They were grown-ups to me.” Shawn said, “And now I’m 18, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve got a steady career, but it’s a crazy career, you know? It’s unreliable. Pop singers don’t stay successful forever. They fade and then pop up again in twenty years on Oprah’s ‘Where are They Now’… I don’t even know if I want all of this forever anyway. I mean- I love it and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, and I’ll definitely be playing music all my life, but… I don’t know.”
“I understand, Shawn. I know what you mean.” I replied. Shawn shifted and turned on his side to face me.
“You do? You don’t think I’m being ungrateful?” He asked. I smiled and turned to face him, too.
“You’re not ungrateful, Shawn. You’re human, and you worry about things from time to time.” I said honestly. Shawn chewed his lip.
“I don’t like having such an uncertain future. Popular music could shift like the wind, and maybe everyone will just dump me, you know? I’ll be out of work.” He said. I ran my thumb across his bottom lip.
“Shawn, your fans adore you. And I understand where you’re coming from. Popular music used to be the Beatles or Elvis and now it’s so different. But that took 40 years to change, Shawn. And Paul McCartney is still working and people still love him, right?” Shawn nodded faintly. “I know in my heart that wherever life takes you, you will be successful. I know it.” I insisted. Shawn closed his eyes briefly.
“My parents were 26 when they got married.” He said, changing the topic. “That’s so young. But at the same time, 26 is so far away, you know? If 26 is young, then being 18 is even younger.” He said, his eyes slowly studying every inch of my face as I watched his eyes. “And I know that we’re going to get married. Undoubtedly. I know that if you let me, I will love you for the rest of my life. But we’re only 18. I feel like I have feelings for you that 18 year olds are too young to have, you know?” I closed my eyes for a moment as my chest swelled. I loved this boy.
“I do know, Shawn.” I told him sincerely. The flicker of a smile crossed his face.
“But what if I’m wrong, and we’re just kids in love?” He asked nervously searching my eyes. I smiled and kissed him.
“Shawn, if we’re just kids in love, then I don’t ever want to grow up. I’m so deeply and wholeheartedly wrapped in love for you.” I told him once we parted. Shawn smiled, keeping his eyes closed.
Ok but if the Marauders and Lily took a trip to the sea how? great? would it be?
first of all none of them are of age yet which means road trip!
because Lily, Remus, and Peter all learned how to drive illegally the summer before sixth year and none of them give a shit about getting arrested
They rent a big van and switch off who gets to sit alone in the row farthest back to nap
The van quickly fills with empty coffee cups, takeout containers, wadded up paper from the fight Sirius and James had had two hours in, and everyone’s shoes which they all keep taking off
Once they get to the little cottage they’re staying in for the week there’s an all out war for the big bedroom which Lily wins by threatening to castrate each of the boys in the middle of the night.
James and Sirius end up in the one closest to the bathroom so Sirius can do his hair in the mornings and Peter and Remus share the last one
Their first voyage into town involves Lily flirting with the boy selling ice cream to get a discount, a jealous James, and buying swim trunks for Peter because he forgot his
They spend most of their time at the beach, where Sirius complains about the lack of food and sand getting in his eyes
To which Lily throws more sand at him (as mentioned here) as a “snack” and Remus yells from the umbrella he and Lily have been hiding from the sun under to “stop acting like idiots while I’m trying to read!”
They have bonfires almost every night and James always insists on lighting them because he’s, as Sirius says, “absolutely obsessed with fire. A bit mad, really. He’s got scented candles all over the place at home”
Lily brings Muggle sparklers and the boys are terrified of them
There’s a lot of ogling each other in swimsuits while the other’s back is turned
To which Peter laughs at every time without fail
One day it rains and they all stay inside to play card games until they get too cooped up at which point they go back into town and get Sirius to flirt with the barmaid to let them buy drinks underage
they get kicked out of the bar
The ride home is a lot worse because everyone’s tired and hot
But Lily puts on her favorite cassette and they spend the last three hours screaming along to songs
They come home missing six hair ties, Peter’s new swim trunks, and James’s favorite sunglasses, but they have a weird statue Lily bought at some hippy store, enough sand to “start another beach, damnit, I told you this stuff gets everywhere” and enough photos to fill an entire album
Buttery sunlight filtered in from the windows of Pan’s treehouse, and you ignored the stirring of his body behind you in bed. He nudged you, urging you to awaken.
“(Y/N),” he cooed. You simply nestled your head into the pillow as you lay swaddled in stolen blankets. He chuckled, softly shaking you again. “(Y/N),” he tried again.
“Piss off,” you grumbled, and Pan laughed softly at that, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. If only you had been able to see the sly thoughts running through his head. Maybe then you would have been saved from what was to come next.
“One more shot, (Y/N),” he warned, and you didn’t care. You simply let yourself bask in the bliss between sleep and consciousness. When you didn’t stir, the boy sighed, and continued on to do what had to be done. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, and his hand came over your sleeping form, fingers splayed like a spider.
The spider attacked.
“Peter!” You shrieked at the violation, as his hands ran up and down your body, fingers tickling each and every spot they could reach. “S-stop! N-no more!” You were wide awake now, laughing uncontrollably as Pan continued his assault, one of his hands discovering a particularly ticklish spot and honing in on that area. “Please! P-please! I’m up! I’M UP!” The giggles continued, and you were losing breath. Thankfully, he halted his motions, and your giggles took their time subsiding as your chest heaved, lungs swallowing sweet air. Peter smiled devilishly down at you, and you promised yourself you’d kick his ass later for this. Maybe even give him a taste of his own medicine.
“Perhaps you’ll think next time before ignoring me,” Peter laughed, and you stuck your tongue out at him. He raised his hand menacingly as he wiggled his fingers, and your eyes widened at the implication. You sat up in the bed, and he chuckled again. “Good morning,” he cooed, and you pursed your lips at him. He swiftly pecked your lips, and he was immediately forgiven.
I opened my
eyes, finding the morning sun up shining from the bedroom window. The covers around me didn’t warm me enough,
letting the cold air make my go goose bumps. I sighed, rubbing my puffed
cheeks, where last night’s tears had fell. I wrap my arms around pillow, trying
to get comfort form it, but it was not Shawn. I groan when I know I won’t fall
asleep again. Looking around I saw bathroom door slightly opened. Is he still
mad at me? I bite my lip and quickly close my eyes when I hear door squeaking.
I cuss myself when my breath gets faster as Shawn starts walking towards our
bed. He crawls next to me wrapping his arms around my waist. Questions were
running through my mind. Should I turn to him? Is he still mad? Slowly I turn
around and open my eyes revealing my beautiful boyfriend. He was breathtaking.
Every angry expression he had had was gone, letting only the true Shawn show
up. “Are you still mad?” I ask with hoarse voice, revealing how much I cried
last night. I hold my breath when Shawn’s hand gently tugs my hair behind. “I’m sorry” I whisper only a few inches from
his face. “Me too” he stretches his arms so they could wrap around my waist. His
soft lips brushed my calves, fingers brushing the tender skin while he draws
small circles everywhere. “I love you” lefts his lips when he leans closer
combining our lips together. Cozy Sunday full of rain was tempting to stay in
We'll See About That (Warren Worthington III x Reader)
You woke up to bright beams of sunlight seeping through the blinds & angry grumbles coming from the large, warm body beside you. His curls brushed against your chin as he moved, his head pressing into your collarbone. His wings were splayed out lazily over 75% of the bed, still hanging off the edge greatly as well. You were quite literally shoved to the edge, & one small move would send you falling straight onto the cold ground below.
You slowly let your eyes open all the way, peering around the room before they settled onto the man on top of you, who was still grumbling, “Warren? What’s wrong?”
He sighed, his nostrils flaring a bit & his eyes closing as he gravely whispered, “I hate mornings.”
You laughed into his messy, blonde halo of curls, “Well, maybe I can change that,” you gently ran your hand that was already wrapped around him up & down his back, letting your nails drag across his skin every other stroke. He instantly relaxed, his warm body practically melting into you. You smiled against his hair & continued to rub his back in slow, soothing motions.
His skin was incredibly hot, scars scattered along his back from the many fights he had been a part of. When you found him, he had reached his breaking point, having injured one of his beautiful wings in a fight. You remembered how angry he was when you first met, how he hated you because all you did was care about him when he didn’t deserve it, & how he refused to let you in & see the real Warren underneath all the black leather, wings, & scars.
You couldn’t help but smile, relishing in how far the both of you had come since then. Both of you had your own fair share of baggage, but you managed to help each other carry your loads. The baggage may never truly be gone, especially not Warren’s, but with each other, you’d both be able to manage, & maybe some day, even live happily, with few interferences from your pasts.
“Warren,” you called softly, but he didn’t respond. You smiled when you heard his soft snores, his body completely & utterly relaxed above you. You cautiously slid out from underneath him, careful not to wake him, & pulled the blanket upto his chest, giving his forehead a soft & faint kiss.
Padding quietly down the hall & into the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water & scoured the fridge hungrily. There wasn’t much food left, even though you had just went to the store a few days ago. Warren ate a lot, needing a ton of energy in order to fly & keep his healing factor was upto par. Warren despised to shop for food; however, because he hated the attention brought to him. You knew how uncomfortable it was for him, but sometimes, you wished you could do more domestic things with him, to hep remind him that he’s still human & doesn’t need to hide himself away from the world because of his wings.
You settled on an omelette & grabbed the few remaining eggs & whatever vegetables were available. Warren loved omelettes, especially the way you made them. Back when he was fighting, he never had good food, but he also didn’t have any eggs whatsoever. When he had one of your omelletes for the first time, it was as if a part of him he had lost when he began fighting came back, an innocent, soft side of him that he had entirely forgot about. Since then, you made him omelettes quite often, even though he hated when you cooked for him. He didn’t like having you do anything for him, but for some reason, he especially disliked you cooking for him. Regardless, you woke up before him regularly, so you tended to make him breakfast a lot, which he always grumbled about, but was incredibly thankful for. Although he would never admit it, it was nice to be taken care of sometimes & he loved how you took care of him.
When you finished his omelette, you set it on the counter for him as you devoured your own. It wasn’t long after you finished yours that a very tired & beautiful Warren came into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes & yawning, “Morning.”
You smiled at him, “Morning, Sleepyhead,” he snorted softly at the childish nom de plume & sat down on the counter, resting his face in his hands tiredly. As soon as he smelled the omelette, his eyes shot open & he instantly woke up, eager to devour his breakfast. You laughed at his excited expression as he happily ate, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you love omelettes more than me.”
“You’re a close second,” he teased with a wink, finishing his breakfast. You rolled your eyes as he set his dishes in the sink, rinsing them quickly before he turned back to you. He engulfed you in his large arms & warmth, squeezing you to his chest, “You’re an egg-cellent cook,” he whisperef huskily into your ear.
You laughed, “I think you’ve been hanging around Peter too much.”
He pressed a kiss to your neck, “You’re right; I’ve cleary been neglecting you, if you think you can get away with your sharp tongue,” he breathed, his hot breath fanning onto your throat & making you shiver.
“Oh,” you said simply, your breaths uneven.
He smirked, “Why don’t I take you upstairs & spoil you?”
You swallowed, “Alright,” you leaned into his ear, “but if it’s not as egg-cellent as my cooking, I’m making you go grocery shopping with me later.”
He laughed, picking you up by your thighs & gripping them harshly from underneath as he pressed you flush against him, “We’ll see about that.”