#spydergaz... writes!!

[pinkkttyeyes]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ not a lot, just forever.

🍂📀🍁

word count : 654

cw: fluff, no actual pronouns used, peter is awkward as hell, idk your vibe, but it’s a good one, peter is a cranberries fan.

a/n: i haven’t properly written something in forever :/ but i’m trying i swear lol. i was also listening to Adrianne Lenker while writing this so that may have influenced this a bit.

the leaves crunch under your converses as you walk, your arms swinging loosely by your sides as you wave your hands in the breeze. you’re walking across campus to your next class, a routine you've grown fond of due to the simplicity of it all. you consider yourself a simple person, you enjoy small things like rocks and the sound of the river that flows under the bridge of your campus.

you’re also noticeably quiet, so much so that your teachers have stopped trying to get you to participate in group discussions. you don’t mind though, you’re content being by yourself.

and so is peter. he’s just as quiet as you, he always has headphones on. you can faintly hear his music, you like the fact that he likes the cranberries, you do too. but he tends to sit away from you, he doesn’t hate you, how could he? the way you skip around campus, the way you collect and paint rocks, the way you sit by the river, the way you’re so freely yourself.

his crush on you is something you’re oblivious too, and he’s too scared to even look at you. he’s read so many books on nature related topics that he might turn into a walking weed, he’s replayed a conversation with you in his head so much he could write a script about it. he wants to ask you to get coffee, he’s seen you sip coffee once or twice, maybe he’ll ask you to see a movie?

he knows you like superheroes, he sees the superman pin on your tote bag. but talking to you seems like his kryptonite, like he’ll die if he tries.

but today he’ll try, he’ll try and push past that fear and talk to you.

~

it’s the afternoon, you’re sitting on a bench and quietly sketching the trees in front of you. your foot lightly tapping on the grass to your music that plays softly in your headphones.

he feels like he’s being creepy, holding flowers for a person who doesn’t even know him. but he sighs and walks up to you, cringing at himself as he taps your shoulder.

“hi uhm, i’m not trying to be creepy but-“ he’s cut off by your eyes peering into his, he feels so small when you look at him with those pretty eyes.

“are those flowers?”

“for you.”

“me..?” you smile as he hands them to you, they’re some sunflowers, they’re fake, but the gesture is nice anyways. “the real ones are super expensive and uh-“

you shake your head and look up at him again. “i get it, it’s okay.” he nervously laughs, mindlessly fidgeting with his fingers.

“could i ask your name?” you reply with your name and he smiles, smiles that you trust him enough already for that. “i’m peter parker, i promise i’m a lot more composed usually.”

you laugh at the self deprecating joke.

“i’ve seen you in class.”

“well i don’t tend to turn invisible, i’ve seen you too. which is why i’m giving you flowers.”

you smile, you appreciate how nice he is and how awkward he is too. “i was- am asking you out by the way, if you’re… interested?” you nod, laughing a bit.

“well don’t laugh at me, i’m trying!” his voice is mockingly whiny as he laughs with you. “but you’re like.. okay with going on a date?” you nod again, stifling your laughter for his sake.

“how does a cafe sound?”

“i like the sound of that, I’m always in a mood for coffee.”

“when do you… wanna go?”

“tomorrow? after class?”

“holy shi- uh- yeah that’s okay.” and with that he stands there awkwardly before clearing his throat and nodding, sighing of relief. “yeah i’ll see you tomorrow! uh, i’ve gotta bounce.” you nod in response and wave him goodbye as he runs off, you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

© spydergaz.tumblr please don't claim my work as your own, copy it, or put it on different websites without my consent. Translations are welcome if you do not post them. ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[underoospeterparker]

PRI'S 600 "UNDER THE SEA" CELEBRATION! (now closed)

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running from 28 feb to 8 march!!

find all my finished posts here

*squeals excitedly* thank you to everyone who reads what i write on here, i adore all of you!! 600 followers is AMAZING and i'm so excited to have reached this milestone <3 i love you guys thank you again!!

you can send in whatever you like, regardless of whether you follow me or not!! however, there is a section just for mutuals!

please be aware that i do not write nsfw content among other things, so be sure to check out my requesting guidelines!

THE CHARACTER LIST

peter parker, steve rogers finnick odair remus lupin, james potter, sirius black peter sutherland jj maybank tmr!thomas

THE OPTIONS

🐬 DOLPHIN - send me a character + a prompt (eg. "who did this to you?") and i'll write a short drabble!

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[pinkkttyeyes]

౨ৎ⋆.˚𖦹 and when the crowd becomes your burden …

word count: 686

cw: depression, anxiety, a general sense of hopelessness, peter is going through it, hint at suicidal thoughts (peter), the reader has no set gender, talk of blood and slight gore.

a/n: you and peter are friends! and this takes place after no way home. ignore grammar i just wanted to write today 😭

peters never been one to ask for help, not after what he did.

he’s the idiot who lost his family, his friends, his girlfriend… everything. he’s never been alone, and trying to reconnect with people who can barely remember you exist is so damn hard.

college hasn’t been easy either, it’s this depressing cycle. wake up, go to classes, go to bed, and that’s if he decides he wants to wake up that day.

then came you.

you didn’t know who he was as much as everyone else but the two of you got paired for a project together, you took a liking to him and he did to you… then per usual, he fucked it up.

you saw him in his spider suit. you were bringing him some food since he didn’t even show up to class. he worried you, you’d never tell him but you thought the man was suicidal, and maybe he is.

but now you know he’s spider-man, the one thing he tried to avoid like the plague. the tension is thick like a smog, he rushes into the room and slams the window behind him once his feet hit the carpeted floor of his dorm.

“peter?” your worried voice hits his ears like a freight train. the way you drop the food and rush over to him, the way your eyes widen at his bruised and cut body and face.

he grabs your wrists in reflex, like you’re a threat. so you back away and give him a second to collect himself. his breathing is labored and fast as he looks into your eyes, the eyes that he knew.

the way you ask, “are you spider-man?” like it’s news, like it’s never been said. he almost wants to vomit, really go through with that note he planned on writing.

you used to know. you helped him design the damn suit. but now you don’t even know him, don’t know his favorite foods, his colors. he sobs and hugs you, his body trembling as he grabs onto you like a lifeline.

“why can’t you- fuck i ruined everything…”

“peter, you didn’t-“

“this is my fault…!”

his sobs continue to dampen your shirt, well it’s actually his. you never could pinpoint where you got your ‘i survived my trip to nyc’ shirt from but you never questioned it.

but god, it tore him apart. hearing you introduce yourself like you weren’t in venice with him, like you never sobbed into his shirt when you had to forget him forever.

you continue to hug him until the both of you are sitting on the floor together, his sobs now tiny hiccups that sound so damn familiar. you rub his back and smile at him when he raises his head to look at you. “yeah i’m- i’m spider-man…” he confirms and you quietly nod.

his suit is beat up and so is he, so you help him out of the suit and let him take a shower and freshen up.

you give him some pajamas, some water and food, a small kiss to his temple.

you tackle his wounds with the small medkit you have in your room.

you grab the suture needle and carefully pierce it through his skin. hes oddly quiet, like he’s done this before. “you’re awfully calm,” “i did this to myself on a moving train one time.” your eyes widen as his widen. you laugh, “you what?! no way.” he laughs a bit. “i did, got hit by that same train.” your eyes widen even more. “you got hit by a train before?!”

he nods, seemingly talking without thinking. “yeah in venice.” he looks over at you, like he’s hoping for an answer. “yeah i went to venice once, seems you were there too being as your spider-man.” his smile fades a bit. “that big holographic fight with mysterio.” you mention absentmindedly, he goes dead silent as you finish the stitches.

how do you know it was holograms? nobody is supposed to know that… unless you remember it.

“you okay?” you smile at him and he just quietly nods with a smile.

“just thinking.”

© spydergaz.tumblr please don't claim my work as your own, copy it, or put it on different websites without my consent. Translations are welcome if you do not post them. ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[pinkkttyeyes]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ take me to church.

🎻🎀🧸

word count: 692

cw: speak of religion, black fem! reader, religious trauma, peter worships the ground you walk on, don’t worry you’re healing, talk of abuse, talk of toxic traditional beliefs, negative relationship with christianity.

a/n: i’m an ex-christian who’s now non-religious so don’t expect this to be completely accurate because i no longer interact with christianity, also if this stuff makes you uncomfortable pls don’t hesitate to scroll past, know your limits :) not proof read, i was sleepy :P

sin.

it's a scary word, a word that you heard burned into your ears at mass. your religious upbringing wasn’t a secret, but you hated talking about it.

you hated your old religion, the indoctrination, the fake acceptance. and most importantly, the abuse.

you grew up being seen and not heard. raised to believe your only purpose was to be a submissive baby-maker for whatever man wants you.

your father was a mean, authoritarian man. nothing got by him. and your mother sat by and watched him scream at you, slap you, drag you up to your room, and tell you that you better pray for god to forgive you for whatever you did that he deemed sinful.

dressing in clothes he thought were too scandalous, hanging out around boys, being too close to girls, wearing red, listening to worldly music, you weren’t even allowed to take health in high school.

you’re so unaware of the world outside of the church, outside of that little town in Nebraska you grew up in. unaware of your own body, of who you are.

so when you turned 18, you packed up and moved to New York. which was the best decision of your life, even if it meant cutting off your parents and starting your life from scratch. it’s much more diverse, your little town had more white people than you could count. but here, you're normal. you started to dress in more fun, in pretty skirts and Mary Jane’s, bows in your braids. you felt free.

it’s in New York that you met your now boyfriend, Peter. he’s some dorky tall guy, the type of guy who doesn’t know how attractive he is, the type that talks your ear off about skateboarding and electronics.

he sat and listened to every word you said when you spoke of your childhood and your life, he felt nothing but sympathy. he pays for braids, encouraging you to get fun colors in your hair, to experiment and experience your life.

you’re smitten, he’s your first everything. your first kiss, first boyfriend, first breath of fresh air. you never realized how much your relationship with Christ held you back from fun until you met him, it pained you to know how much you missed.

-

you aren’t a confident person, you never have been. you’re so painfully unaware of the world around you, your own body, always comparing yourself to the girls in the magazines you’d see in the store.

and Peter wasn’t having it.

and that’s how you got here. after he found you cringing at yourself in a form-fitting dress you bought he quietly comforted you, the way he gently caressed your hips felt like sin, and the way you leaned into him felt like Lucifer himself pushing you.

he sat you on the couch, caressing every inch of you that you felt comfortable with him touching. he kissed down your leg, his lips pressing against your soft brown skin, getting down on his knees as he did.

you felt so strange, you imagined that you’d be some man’s housewife by now, imagined that you’d be on your knees for a man who’d never love you.

but he’s down on his knees for you. it has your head spinning, your hands almost want to clutch a rosary that you don't have.

“I wish you knew how gorgeous you are, your perfect, just look at you.”

he whispers, kissing your hands with the pretty pink manicured nails he got you, your fingers missing the purity ring you adorned since you were 13. when you left town you took it off, you wanted no connections to your old life. you felt so dirty when you took it off, so unfaithful to a god you worshiped since diapers.

you watch as he kisses up your arm, the same arm your dad would grip when he dragged you to your room for having a crush on a boy, for being a person.

but you feel a soft sense of tranquility, being worshiped feels so good, and being wanted feels surreal.

All Peter feels is that he should’ve worshipped you sooner.

© spydergaz.tumblr please don't claim my work as your own, copy it, or put it on different websites without my consent. Translations are welcome if you do not post them. ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[pinkkttyeyes]

warm body — terry lyn !! original character. ahh this is FUNNN

notes: fluff, original character (terry), fem reader, "baby" and "my girl".

you were snuggled up next to each other, warm low breaths being quietly exchanged as the thick blankets covered the both of you. you are borderline anemic— at least that's what terry thinks. you are always cold, always, you felt a bit bad because of how much you complained about it.

you shudder under the blankets causing terry to pull you in closer to his chest, you sniffle— goddamn you are so cold. "m' baby, you okay?" his voice is low and raspy, like honey to your cold ears. you shake your head, careful not to move your head too much so the air doesn't hit you. terry sighs and kisses the top of your hair, muttering soft " 'm sorry..."s as he does.

you try to find somewhere to put your hands, between your thighs isn't working and neither is in your shirt. you slide your shaky hands under his shirt, your icy hands running up his torso and up to his chest.

he tenses up, a soft gasp followed by a shudder escapes his lips. "damn hun, you're so cold baby..." he softly laughs as he leans into your chest.

a soft hum leaves your pretty mouth. you caress his chest, feeling his pecs as you softly smile. "my girl is real touchy, yeah?" you hum again in response, continuing to rub his chest. he kisses your head again, wrapping his arms around you. he loves when the house is cold and you get clingy, makes him wanna start turning on the ac.

© spydergaz.tumblr please don't claim my work as your own, copy it, or put it on different websites without my consent. Translations are welcome if you do not post them. ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[pinkkttyeyes]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ “ soph .. ” she/they .. girlflux ** lesbian .. seventeen ⟢

۶ৎ info :: puerto rican/black ,, this blog is for writing practice !!

۶ৎ currently writing for :: my own ocs ,, spiderman ,, random !!

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