#oh this flopped so bad ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡

[shayyprasad]

cool | peter parker

a/n: this concept was so sweet to me, and i had to write something for it. okay, so yeah, this is technically irondad + spiderson... but i wanted to add to it.

repost because this fic flopped with, like, 10 notes. if you look at the og, it says 700ish because of the prev notes of what i reblogged. interact with this fic, it's what keeps me going!

summary: you find that a brown haired boy is always at the restraunt you work at, covered with cuts and bruises. you're curious, so what do you do?

warnings: cursing, minor angst (not really tho, mostly fluff)

pairing: fem!reader x post-nwh!peter parker

word count: 1.5k+ words

you're working late, you don't normally. it doesn't hurt though, having a side hustle outside of college. with shit parents, community college is really all you have as an option, so extra money is welcomed.

it's 20 minutes until closing time, and you're the only one left. you've read enough articles and watched enough true crime to be at least a little paranoid. not expecting anyone else, you spray a table, wiping it down with a rag. might as well get started with cleaning, right?

so when you hear the familiar chime of the door, you've got the right to be suprised. looking up, you're greeted by the sight of a boy. he's got soft brown curls, and (you find, once you meet his gaze) matching dark, hazel eyes.

you wave at him and move behind the register. he looks harmless, but don't most men that have bad intentions? not that you think he's going to do anything.

you're just a woman. it's the way of life, this thought spiral.

"hi, what can i get you?" when he's closer, you can see the cut he's got on his cheek. it's dried blood, but still enough to make your eyebrows shoot up. in fact, he's got a bruise too.

under his left eye, and by the yellow-green, you can tell it's fresh. it's not your business to ask, well, it is... but you're only asking about his order. he runs a hand through his hair, obviously trying to tame it.

there's a leaf at the top, tangled in there. you want to take it out.

he sniffs, eying the menu. you've never seen him here before, and you've been working here for a while. now that you're looking at him, his eye looks swollen - like someone socked him. "a- a cheese-"

you're not sure where the sudden courage comes from, but you cut him off; "do you want an ice pack? or, uh, maybe frozen peas?"

he looks startled for a second, as if he were just now knocked out og this long train of thought. he pauses to touch his eye, "um," you can tell he doesn't want to trouble you, but you're intrigued now.

"seriously, it's no problem." (on the account you have frozen peas, then it would be no problem. if you didn't... a pack of cold, raw meat-?)

"sure, yeah."

"cool. er- stay right there." you go to the freezer room, rummaging around for frozen peas. it takes you a minute, and you're afraid there are none for a moment, but there are. triumphantly, you bring them back out.

he's standing in the same place, although you're not sure why he would've left. "peas!" you sing-song. handing them to him, you smile.

he throws one back, though it's forced and kind of hollow. you're afraid you've made him uncomfortable, or that you're too much. are you too much?

he squints at your nametag, "thanks, uh, gertrude?"

you're confused for a second, "oh, she's dead."

"i- sorry?" he tilts his head, now he's confused too.

"no, i mean, this isn't my nametag. it's old. like, super old. manager's dead wife. this place is too cheap to get new ones, so we, like, basically catfish people."

he nods, "okay. what's is it then?"

"huh?"

"your name."

you mentally smack your forehead, of course that's what he was asking. "y/n."

"cool. i'm peter. peter parker."

"nice to meet you peter peter parker," it's your attempt at a joke, paired with a lopsided grin. it makes peter smile though, so you consider it a win.

peter presses the pack to his eye, a wince turning into a sigh. oddly enough, it sounds sexual to you, and your face is heating up. what's wrong with you? seriously?

"okay, well, um, i assume you still wanna order something?"

"yeah. maybe just a cheeseburger and fries?"

"you got it," it's closing time, but you don't mind. peter is cute, and he seems nice as well. you're more than happy to stay around longer. "on the house," you say when he tries to offer you money, "seems like you had a rough night."

"no, i-"

"no sweat, parker."

you ring up his order, get it ready, and by the time you're done, he's settled at a table. "here you go. enjoy!"

you go back to sweeping, but you want to talk to him more. "you live around here? i haven't seen you here before."

"uh... not exactly. i don't come here often. i, um," he presses his lips together, "had a friend that brought me here. once or twice."

you frown, "oh, i'm sorry."

"what?" peter looks up from his meal.

"i just- well, you used past tense so i assumed you don't... aren't in touch anymore?" maybe small talk was a bad idea.

"oh. yeah. i guess. he's not really... around. he passed a little while back."

it's like your heart physically aches. "that's sad to hear."

"yeah. 's okay though, getting by fine. or- or better."

"mhm. it gets better. lost my sister a few a years back."

"really? i'm sorry." they're empty words, you've probably heard them a lot, he knows that. you know he knows that.

"thanks."

"yeah," it's quiet for a little while longer.

"so, uh," he pauses, taking a sip of his water, "are you still in school?"

"college," you pause, slightly embarrassed, "community, i mean."

"oh. cool. i'm at midtown. it's not, like, super fancy or whatever..."

you cut him off, shrugging, "better than community. and isn't it like so stupid, how they basically tell you that college is a must, and then have you pay all this money? 'oh, you need it for a good future!'" you mock, "aw, really? then make it free!"

you freeze, realizing you've gone on a tangent. "sorry," you say, flushing.

"no, it's okay," he laughs. "it's cool you're... passionate."

"thanks," you put the broom away. "um, i have to go take out the trash. would you mind... not stealing anything?"

"i'll try," he jokes.

"cool. i believe in your ability of self-restraint."

"cool," he says, matching your tone.

"cool."

"cool."

"okay, that got weird after the, like, second time," you make a face.

"no, yeah, i agree."

"cool," you say, staring at each other in dead silence, before bursting into laughter. you hold up the trashbag, "yeah, so, one sec."

you push open the back door, tossing the bag in the dumpster.

he's so nice, you think. look at you, falling for a basically stranger. you walk back in, closing the door behind you. you notice he's done, so you throw out his things, cleaning down the table.

"hey, uh, when do you close?" peter asks.

you check the clock, "mm... 15 minutes ago."

"holy shit, really?"

"yeah. it's cool though. i was closing anyway, and the company didn't hurt. also... it looked like you needed this."

he looks down at his shoes, smiling, "yeah, no, i did. thanks. and sorry."

"like i said, it's cool."

"cool," you stop, "are you in a cult?" you blurt.

"um, sorry?"

"sorry, like, i just, you look... beat up. and i was wondering if you were in a gang... or something." you squint at the dried blood on his knuckles.

"uh... i am not."

"then how'd you get those?"

he looks conflicted, and you've probably crossed a line. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. obviously, it's not my business. i was just... curious."

you wipe down your last table, cursing yourself internally.

"no, it's cool. i'm..."

"seriously, it's not my business. don't tell me, actually. plausible deniability," you joke.

he says something, and it's so quiet, you don't hear it. "what?" you ask.

"i'm spider-man!"

"uh. what?"

"you don't know spider-man?"

"no, of course i know spider-man!"

"well, yeah. that's me. suprise." he says, doing a small show of jazz-hands.

"there's legit no way. i know i catfished you earlier, but that was on accident!"

he tilts his head, as if he's weighing his options. in reponse, you narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it's one big joke. after that, it's so quick, you barely notice. something hits your hip, not harshly, and then you're spinning towards peter.

"holy-!" you look down at your side, trying to figure out what it is. you're tucked into peter, and you realize it's... a web. "no. way."

"yes way."

"why'd you tell me? now i can't plausibly deny anything! also, isn't this supposed to be a secret? isn't that the point of the mask? how do you know i won't sell you out?"

"that was a lot."

"i know. but it was very valid."

"i don't know. i just wanted to. you're nice and sweet and pretty-"

"oh, so pretty privilege?"

"no! no, of course not!"

"well, um," you wrap your arms around his neck, "thank you for trusting me. i won't tell anyone."

"cool."

"cool."

his hands are on your hips, and he's leaning in, but you pull away, smirking.

"no kissing until the second date, i'm afraid."

"we're going on dates?"

"if you don't want me to broadcast to the world, yes."

"well, i would've asked to take you anyways."

you smile at him, enjoying the moment.

"wait, are those cameras?" there's absolute panic in his voice, and you giggle.

"those are fake. it's cardboard to scare people off."

"oh. cool."

"cool."

you end up kissing him anyways.

@whatsupstark@ell0ra-br3kk3r@idli-dosa@susvale@kdbsr-h@littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7

[nocreativityfornames]

I like talking about my ocs and I like hearing about other people's ocs, so let's talk about them because why the hell not ( part 1? )

Question, what was your MC doing right before they arrived in the Devildom for the 1° time? I'll start: Magnus was peacefully sleeping inside a bus while making their way home when they got summoned & pulled inside the Council Room, falling on the floor ( ouch ) in front of the brothers and Diavolo.

[yoohyeontual]

Kpop stans reblog this post and tell us in the tags what’s your favorite song(s) by your ult(s) group(s) / soloist(s) 💜

[moonsidesong]

tierlist of every touhou character ranked by their fumo count (only including base fumo types, so not including nendoroid plus, deka, etc) bc i was feeling slightly insane that gift made lost word alts of reimu and marisa instead of. Any of even the popular characters they havent touched yet (its weird that byakuren doesnt have one right. like is it me or is that strange??)

[theodoravery]

i'm like halfway through sos now and i think it's easily gonna be one of my faves once i'm done with it. which. doesn't really surprise me since it's by alice, who also wrote arcanum (another one of my faves). what does surprise me however, it's that she also wrote heaven's secret lol

[crybaby-bkg]

I think I might take a break from writing on here (quite possible a lie) </3

[noctilucous-sunni]

hands hcs ~ part 2

warnings: mentions of implied violence, blood, injury, suggestive themes at the end

info/tropes: fluff, gn!reader, harbinger!reader

notes: i went overboard with this. it was meant to be both childe and scara but i got carried away with his part lmao. here is my favorite bitchy harbinger. hes pretty but a bitch.

masterlist.

feat. character(s); scaramouche

Affection? Him?? Embodiment of the “ew, affection. do it again.” meme

has such pretty hands (he just does)

his hands have always been used to hurt, torture, destroy, and kill so when you act as if their precious porcelain he just doesn’t function.

his hands are suprisingly very delicate and gentle around you, he constantly tries to make sure that his grip is never too tight, that his hands are not rough, hes trying not to break you

his hands are kinda soft

whenever you try to hold his hand he always shoves you away but you don't stop trying just to annoy him or because you’re extra determined and then he will just roll his eyes and let you interlink your hands together while he very slowly and lightly curls his fingers around yours

hes bad at intimacy ok (me too 💀💀)

never asks for affection, he needs to maintain his rep huh??

will either grab your wrist and then silently slide his hand down to fit into your palm, acting as if nothing happened. What even happened? nothing.

he likes it when his fingers or his thumb rubs the pulse point on your wrist, he likes feeling your pulse under his fingers, it's almost comforting, though he would never admit it but it's his way of knowing you’re safe and alive and with him

“I’m home, Scara.” You say, closing the door behind you. You’re tired and filthy and covered in blood from a former adversary you had just defeated. Work as a harbinger never ended, you knew this. Today was simply one of the harder days. Taking a seat on the floor to avoid blood getting on the sofa or chairs, you rub your temples lightly. You can almost see the electro user rolling his eyes.

“Do you really need to say that every time?” The Balladeer states, sounding rather exasperated despite being pleased at your return. He walks over from the kitchen to where you sat on the floor, head in your hands.

“If I didn’t, you would think some random stranger entered our house and then would have killed me.”

“Hmph. What’s up with you?”

You finally turn your head in the direction of his voice, meeting his gaze with a scowl. “I’m not in the mood for this today, Scara.”

The harbinger scoffs, looking down at you. He clenches his jaw and takes hold of your wrist to pull you up. Your hands were so unnaturally cold, he had to stop himself from flinching ever so lightly. Stumbling out of surprise, you nearly bump into his chest. Without saying a word, Scaramouche starts dragging you towards the bathroom. “Wait, what are you–”

He cuts you off, his grip tightening. However, you can feel his thumb lightly brushing in a circle against the pulse point in your wrist. You soften a bit at the unspoken gesture.

“Come here.” Scaramouche demands, letting go of your hand in order to turn on the faucet and get some water running.

“Do I even have a choice?”

He doesn’t answer. You sigh, grabbing a footstool to sit down on. “Scara, really, what–”

“Tsk. Be quiet.” His voice is harsh, it’s always been, but Scaramouche’s hands grasp and examine you with such gentleness and care, something that has never been used to describe him, not even the thought of it, his reputation makes absolute sure of that. Scaramouche proceeds to wipe a soft, damp towel on your neck, removing much of the blood of some stranger who had fallen to your weapon.

“Pft. I can’t believe you can’t even kill someone cleanly. Was it because of that ginger nuisance? Hmph. You’re going to need training again. Not from Childe.” Scaramouche says distastefully, meeting your eyes again.

“I’ll tell him you said that.” You teasingly retort, a small smile now curving on your lips.

The harbinger clicks his tongue indignantly, turning your neck a little to the side. “Was that meant to be a threat?” His breath brushes hotly against your ear as he leans closer, just to watch you freeze. You recover quite well though and in due time.

Scaramouche sighs, running a new towel under some water after he finishes cleaning your neck. “This is what happens when you train with him. Absolutely filthy.” He says, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

You imitate him badly, snickering a little. Instead of letting you talk again, he starts wiping blood off your face, an annoyed look on his own. You want to lean into his touch, the way his hand cups the back of your head to keep you steady while his own fingers lightly brush against your skin while he wipes off any blood on your face. You choose to stay quiet this time. When he’s finished, Scaramouche throws the towel into the basin, not actually caring where it goes.

You reach for his hand, and unlike all the times he pushes or shoves you away, he doesn’t react, allowing you to clasp his hand.

“What?”

You don’t answer, giving him a short smile instead. The Balladeer certainly did not expect for you to raise his hand to your lips, placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles.

Shortly after, he pulls his hand away, and you chuckle. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asks roughly, but you’ve noticed how he had previously frozen up and that a nearly non-existent red blush has started spreading across his face. You snickered lightly at how seemingly flustered he was becoming. It wouldn’t be noticeable to the mere stranger or even a fellow harbinger but you knew and had grown accustomed to his mannerisms and actions.

“Well, since you never ask for affection, can’t I just give you some?” You mildly tease, as he scowls, walking back to the living room with you following him. He certainly doesn’t answer your question. Scaramouche sinks into the living room couch, lazing on it comfortably soon enough. You stand next to him, a cheeky smile stretching across your face. “So, speaking of affection, I think that– Whoa!”

You shout as he suddenly tugs on your wrist, pulling you into his lap as your hands splayed out over his chest. You grip onto his shirt tightly, surprised by the motion. Now you were the one getting flustered. It was definitely displayed much more on your face than it ever would on the harbinger. Scaramouche stares at you for a moment, before speaking with his tone down a level or two of grumpy, so you could see he was trying to be less mean than he usually was.

“If you don’t shut up and stop talking, I’ll make sure that you do.” His hand is still curled around your wrist, as he stares at you. You always got so lost in his pretty, indigo eyes.

“I wanted to say thank you.” You whisper, before the distance between the two of you closes suddenly. The feeling and action of his lips on yours was unexpected but certainly welcomed. You kiss him back eagerly, maybe a little too eager. Damn it. He smirks against your mouth, before pulling away. A short whine escapes from you, as you pout.

“What you’ll be thanking me for is something else…” Scaramouche says, leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice hot and breathy. You blush violently, caught off guard by his use of words as he gets up. You giggle suddenly and shriek out of surprise as he picks you up, holding you against his chest. Your laughter intoxicated him, it was the only thing that truly ever would. Placing passionate kisses on your neck, he carried you to the shared bedroom. Your giggles are soon gone, replaced with soft moans as Scaramouche bites the sensitive skin on your neck and collarbone, melting into you.

a/n: im super dead, sick and jetlagged rn but im happy to have finally posted this hehe. sorry for any errors though, I didn’t edit it as much as I should have.

[saph-yells-into-the-void]

reading the translated scans makes this chapter hit so much harder 😭

[no1ryomafan]

My tradition for when I start a new obscure anime is to always go on ao3 to see if there’s a tag and the reaction from me is always one of three things:

“Oh wow this tag actually has surprisingly decent amount of stuff even if it hasn’t been updated much as of late. Still not 100 fics or anything but good to see about 20 that aren’t crossovers.”

“Oh there’s like- one fic in this tag huh. And it was years ago… And everything else is crossovers for some god foresaken reason. I’m gonna have to write something for this eventually.”

“Why the FUCK does this not have a tag do I really have to do this myself?!”

And the only reason I’m not writing more fics for everything I watch since they tend to fall under the second and third option or even if they don’t I end up liking what I watched a lot is because a red robot looms in my mind preventing me to write anything else- Also I’d get really exhausted from carrying so many fandoms when getter already drags me oml.

[negativepeanuthoarder]

Looking at twitter has me all:

[whumpshaped]

im not used to my ideas being called original, this is a completely new thing for me- /lh

[walshball]

Driving to London Colney to kill myself in front of Jonas

[terriblygrimm]

so when is disney gonna make a luke, han and leia show with graham hamilton and alden ehrenreich. huh? when??? WHEN??????? it’s literally all people want. it’s a golden ticket. it’s a home run. guaranteed success. hole in one. like. why is disney so fucking stupid.

[theold-ultraviolence]

sorry if anyone was expecting more of the vday ficlet fest I was being consummed by movie!projectionist Aemond and I couldn't be stopped. Not even done with that one yet lol.

[angelhummel]

tfw we cannot have THESE shenanigans at THIS school

[bsaka7]

Sorry if this is weird or anything but re:the post you rb'd abt fanfic... i adore all your writing - you're such a talent, thank you for sharing the things you write!

I really do think of your stories a lot - as slashfic it is wonderful and very much appreciated, but so much of it just leaves me with a lasting impression of a theme or feeling that I can't shake; beyond the story itself. You have an incredible way with words, managing to convey things wholly but without any exaggeration, which makes for a perfect and usually heart-rending read

Thank you again :)

definitely not weird!!! i appreciate and cherish what everyone says about my writing and i am always deeply grateful for your comments. i'm clutching this ask like when otters float on their backs with the clam pressed to their chest!!! i often think that i'm -- trying too hard with fic, or i think too hard about it. i'm very glad that themes and feelings stuck with you because that is so often what i am trying to impart. i think -- i have these questions that go round and round in my head (connection, meaning, misdirection, etc) and sometimes my fic is a way of trying to figure out one perspective or another on those things, or is responding to something i've read in a book (i swear i'm not that pretentious okay. a little. but not TOO bad i hope.), or is just. i think this would be cool (or hot) can i execute it!! and i throw this all out to you guys and you are always far too kind. anyway long story short i really appreciate u and appreciate everyone who likes my writing haha!! i've only ever written like...history papers for school so you guys have seen nearly all the creative writing i've done in my entire life so it's very nice that you enjoy! and it's such an honor that anything i write sticks with u <333333333333333