#@peter parker x oc
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bethsvrse · 9 months ago
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when I find a brilliant, jaw dropping, amazing x reader fic but suddenly I’ve been given a first name, last name, hair colour and eye colour
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blkgirlsreadfanfic2 · 7 months ago
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for fanfic writers and readers
as a black girl who loves a lot of different movies and shows, fanfic allows me to read stories that put me in the middle of my favorite things. however, fanfic often (unintentionally) excludes girls who look like me.
i am so sick and tired of reading a fanfiction and having to rewrite it in my brain because a character description immediately implies that the reader is white. if you don't know what i mean, here are some examples.
"your skin turned pink" or "you blushed": black girls and women with darker skin tones CANNOT blush. our skin does not just turn pink
"pulled your hair into a messy bun": my 4a hair cannot be pulled into a messy bun at random. i may be able to do a ponytail if i have braids in, and i might be able to tie it up if I have an old twist-out, but a "messy bun" is often not possible.
"he ran his hands through your hair": yeah...unless my hair is in a silk press (and an OLD silk press), that's not happening
there are a plethora of other examples that would make this post insanely long, so let me get to the point. there are very easy ways to make fanfic a bit more inclusive; all you have to do is tweak a few character descriptions. OR, put in your pairing or warnings that the reader is implied to be white.
and finally: please, please stop tagging your DARK fanfictions "xblack!reader." i am tired of searching for fluff under the black reader tag and finding non-con, dark themes, etc., ESPECIALLY when the fic ends up being for a white reader💀.
the goal of my page is to create a safe space for black girls who love reading fanfiction. i am only one person, so if you'd like to help, here are some ways to do that!
send me fics (preferably marvel and stranger things to start) that are with a black reader
comment some other things in fanfics that imply that the reader is white or that make the fic a little less accessible
REBLOG FICS BY BLACK WRITERS
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aliyahwritings · 1 month ago
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INTRODUCTION TO LOSER!READER
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loser!reader has school validation issues, she constantly seeks love through grades/scores. she is very empathetic and sensitive to things around her. she has the most beautiful soft long skirts outfits and nails sets (my girl does them herself). she can't do anything without having her grey headphones with stickers on it. oh, have you noticed how she's DIY based? yep.
loser!reader who is obsessed with spider-man and constantly looks him up without knowing it's actually peter parker from science class. she will never admit this but she is attracted to him (spidey) physically and personality wise. she thinks the way he teases officers and is cocky makes him so sexy. she loves video games like resident evil, the last of us and until dawn. she absolutely love playing them to cool down.
loser!reader who's loved by everyone because of how sweet she is for helping those in needs when it comes to homework and tests; she won't give the answers but she'll help.
loser!reader who was raised by her single dad because her mother started a new life with her new boyfriend. she is very happy with her father and wouldn't have it any other way. her father always encourages and teases her to meet new people and "finally" get a boyfriend or girlfriend. she is pansexual.
loser!reader who has nerdy conversations with peter about books and superheroes. she always posts herself with peter on her instagram because she loves showing him off. her signature is definitely long skirts and her curly hair. the people in her classes always admire the way her hair is constantly styled in a different, cute way.
loser!reader is sending a hundred memes to peter in a day and he always answers. he thinks it's adorable how she sends things that remind her of them, him, or just things that made her laugh. he swings her across queens just to have her close to him and panic (mf thinks it's funny).
loser!reader IS A FUN LOSER!!!!! SHE LOVES TO BANTER AND MAKE SNARKY COMMENTS TO HER FRIENDS AND BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!
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layout credit to the beautiful @rafecameroninterlude (if u want me to take this down, i understand)
i'll be writing college era peter and reader because ain't no way i'm writing a 15 year old peter... #weird #notintothat #fuckthemkids
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atlantian-kong · 5 months ago
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Morrigan x Spider-Man created by the amazing @boyofzoot
Commission info I Patreon
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daydreamvalley · 1 year ago
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My aesthetic? Miguel O’Hara.
Continuation of my irl Miguel reimagining
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).
I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.
Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!
Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2]
——
Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.
He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.
His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.
He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.
“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”
Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.
“Stay still, you motherfucker!”
“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.
“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”
“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.
Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?
Huh. His options for dinner was limited.
“Take this!”
Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.
“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.
“Get him!”
God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.
Great.
Oh, speak of the devil!
“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.
He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.
“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.
The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.
“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”
“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”
“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”
“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”
The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.
“You have a lawyer?”
“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”
“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”
“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.
“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”
This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.
“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”
“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.
“Like, Dare Devil good.”
“You know Matt Murdock??”
“Sure do.”
“He… he’ll take on our cases?”
“Dang, all of you?”
“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”
“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”
“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”
“Got it. Sorry.”
Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.
And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.
“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.
And Spider-Man
F
E
L
L.
——
Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.
He twisted.
“Boss, what the fuck?!”
“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.
“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”
“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”
Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”
“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”
Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”
“I know!”
Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.
——
Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.
“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.
“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.
First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.
That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.
He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.
He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.
He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.
The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.
With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?
Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”
Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?
Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.
He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…
Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.
“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”
His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]
Peter stared at the words, gut churning.
Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.
Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.
“Fuck.”
He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.
——
Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.
“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”
Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.
He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.
“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.
“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”
Five things.
1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!
2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.
3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.
4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.
5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.
Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.
Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.
Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.
Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.
3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.
Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.
Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.
“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.
Now… People of Interest.
This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.
Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”
“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.
And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.
He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.
Subcategory B: Local celebrities.
“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.
“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”
“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.
“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”
Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.
Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.
Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.
Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.
So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.
Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”
And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.
And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.
Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.
He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.
For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.
He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!
Oh my god.
Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.
Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.
Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-
“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.
“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”
“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”
The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”
Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”
“Food, duh.”
“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”
The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”
“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”
“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”
Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.
“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”
Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.
“I’m Peter!”
“… Frank.”
He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.
“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”
Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.
“Uh. Hey.”
Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.
“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”
Peter chewed faster.
Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”
Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”
Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!
“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”
Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!
“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”
“That was easy.”
Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.
“Ow!”
“Whatever, shrimp.”
Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.
Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.
“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”
“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.
“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.
“You’re looking for a place?”
“Yeah? Why?”
Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”
Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.
“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”
“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.
“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”
“Dunno? Probably not.”
“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.
Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.
“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”
Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”
“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”
“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”
“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.
——
They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.
“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”
“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”
And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.
Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.
“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”
“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.
They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.
“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.
“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”
“No-” Frank had started.
“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.
“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”
Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.
“Uh.”
“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”
“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”
Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”
Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.
“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”
Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.
“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.
“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”
“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”
“I can use a cart.”
And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.
“Can you even reach the handle?”
“I’m not that short!”
Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.
“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.
“Okay!”
Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.
“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.
——
As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”
Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.
He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…
He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.
Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.
He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and
He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.
All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for
So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.
“Hey.”
Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”
Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.
“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”
“Rude. No, of course not.”
Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.
“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…
“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”
The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”
“Nice! We can eat on this!”
——
When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.
“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.
“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.
——
When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.
So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.
An hour later, he met his first vigilante.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”
“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.
“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.
Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”
“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?
“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”
Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”
“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.
“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”
“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.
“Photography buddy!” He cheered.
They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.
“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”
“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.
——
Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.
“Red Robin to Nightwing.”
“What’s up, Red?”
“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.
“… What?”
“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”
“Copy. Oh, that kid…”
“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”
“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”
“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”
“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.
“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.
“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.
“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.
——
Peter: lay low and get home
Also Peter: talks to a vigilante
None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.
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raineydays411 · 1 year ago
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My Father's Daughter
Part 9
Summary: You've been at the Wayne Manor for over a month.
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In some weird way you understand Christine.
You understand why she tries so hard to spend time with you while you're in her home. Why she begs for you to get off of your phone and cook with her. You get why she tries to make the other kids be nice to you. Scolds them harshly when they make snide comments underneath their breath about you.
Truly, you do.
You just...genuinely don't give a shit.
You don't care that she feels bad that she abandoned you for a completely other family and you don't care that she feels like she's losing time to create a bond with you.
You did not care.
Really, you didn't.
"Um,kid... you know I love you but I'm really not that kind of doctor" Bruce Banner said awkwardly over facetime.
You sigh. "Yeah I know B. You were just the first one to pick up the phone."
"Ouch." Banner laughed, " you know, you really are your fathers child."
You smile, one of the rare times you actually did nowadays. " How is the old man?"
You haven't been able to call him since he was paranoid whoever wants you would track your phone calls and find out where you are.
"Your father is even more annoying now without you than he ever has been in my entirety of knowing him" Banner deadpans, " He misses you a lot kiddo, we all do."
You smile sadly, missing your family.
It was hard, seeing these people you barely knew, with a mother you barely knew, stuck in a house you barely knew.
And the fact that they feel like a family. They argue and play jokes on each other. They eat with each other every afternoon ( Bat activities at night), Bruce kisses Christine goodbye when he goes to work. It was so domestic in its weird little ways.
But you didn't fit in.
They laughing and the jokes stopped whenever you walked into the room. The conversations were stale.
It was depressing.
It's not like they ignored you, oh no. That would've been preferable.
No half of them trip over their feet to try and include you in whatever they're doing.
Dick will turn blue chatting your ear off about whatever he thinks will get you to open up to him and Christine?
She will bend over backwards, frontwards, and sideways just to get you to acknowledge she gave birth to you. Every night she comes into your room and tries to talk to you about your life. And every question is met with a dull answer
"So any boys that catch your interest here?" " I don't know, I can't leave the premises"
"Were you in any sports? You look like you'd be a cheerleader like your momma!" " I was in mathletes and debate like Pepper"
"You really are beautiful my baby" "Thanks, everyone says I look like my dad"
It really was a struggle to get you to open up. Almost everyone at the manor had a hard time even starting a conversation with you.
Everyone except of course Alfred and surprisingly Jason Todd.
Alfred won you over as soon as you moved in. He vouched for you when you needed time alone and brings you snacks>
Jason is a whole different story.
See, the reason why it's so hard for everyone to talk to you is because they all refuse to acknowledge the elephant in the room. They're treating you like you were some other orphan Annie they decided to adopt and you just have no family waiting and missing you.
Jason doesn't.
In fact, it was him who caught you trying to sneak out of the mansion the first week you were there. Instead of scolding you or telling on you, he took you out.
"A cap and sunglasses? Kid, that's not a disguise."
"What do you mean?"
He took you to a diner he frequents, a tour of the rooftops to avoid people, and to the safe house he took over from Bruce.
"Tell me about your life." He demands, not asks.
You smile and tell him about it. Your life growing up with the Avengers, school and what major you're going for, that brief fling you had with Pietro before you had to move to Gotham.
It was nice. To be with someone that didn't want to change you. He didn't try to force you into forgiveness and let you vent. He even gave some pretty sound advice.
"You know, at some point you are going to forgive her." He says ignoring your indignant stare, " You don't gotta be bestfriends with her or anything, but that anger is going to either slowly consume you or slowly go way. And believe me, you want it to slowly go way."
And he was right in some ways. The longer you're there, the less anger there is and the more hurt replaces it. It festers inside you like some disease. The symptoms slowly leaking out every time one of them calls her mom.
Every night she comes into your room and tries to pry into your life as if she didn't voluntarily leave it, you feel it.
Everytime you see her brush Cassandra's hair out of her eyes, or kiss damian on the forehead. It's the gentle way she smiles whenever she sees Tim hyperfocused on mission reports, and the way she gets so excited whenever Dick or Jason walk through the front door. Hugging them and chiding them for not visiting more.
It hurts you that they truly are a family.
And after a while, it gets hard for you to try and say that you truly didn't give a shit.
Because honestly, you did
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @stupendousnightmaretrash @opheliaas-stuff
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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 2 months ago
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i love you, and you love me
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pair: Percy Jackson x reader
masterlist | navigation
❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿
You stood by the window, staring at the stars scattered across the sky, lost in thought. Percy was behind you, leaning on the kitchen counter, watching you with that soft, knowing smile he always had. You didn’t have to explain what was on your mind. He already knew.
“You okay?” Percy asked, his voice quiet, like he didn’t want to disturb the calmness between you both.
You nodded, turning around to face him. “Yeah, just thinking.”
He pushed off the counter and made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you in close, and you automatically leaned into him, breathing in the scent that always made you feel like everything was okay.
“You think too much,” he said softly, his chin resting on your head.
You laughed quietly, but he wasn’t wrong. Percy always seemed to know what was going on in your head before you even said a word. He didn’t need you to explain your worries or stress—he just knew.
“You always know exactly what to say,” you murmured, looking up at him. “It’s almost like you’ve figured me out completely.”
He smiled that smile that always made your heart race, pulling you a little closer. “Maybe I have.”
“You don’t need to be told anything, do you?” you teased, running your fingers lightly across his chest. “It’s like you can read my mind.”
Percy chuckled, shaking his head. “Not quite. I just know you, that’s all. I pay attention.”
“And you’re patient,” you added. “It’s like relationship goals or something.”
“Guess we got lucky.” He leaned down, kissing you softly, and the world outside the window faded away. It had always been easy with Percy. No drama, no need to explain yourself over and over. He just got you.
Pulling away slightly, you looked up at him. “You think it was fate? Or, like, written in the stars?”
“Maybe,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause I love you, and you love me. It’s that simple.”
Your heart swelled at how straightforward it all was. No confusion, no complications—just love. “It really is that easy with us, isn’t it?”
Percy nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. And I knew it after that first kiss.”
You grinned, remembering the exact moment, the way his lips felt against yours for the first time, how everything clicked into place after that.
“I love you,” you whispered, leaning into him again, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
“I love you too,” Percy replied softly, kissing the top of your head. “And don’t worry—my mom loves you just as much as I do.”
You laughed, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax in his arms. The stars outside twinkled, but all you needed to know was right here, holding you close. You loved Percy, and he loved you. It was that easy.
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lolxdswag123 · 1 month ago
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Masterlist
will take requests!
Percy Jackson:
Sleepless in Cabin 3
Just Friends?
Leo Valdez:
The Engine Room Scene
Peter Parker:
Aftermath of a Mission
Rafe Cameron Series:
Who's the bad influence? pt. 1
Who's the bad influence? pt. 2
Who's the bad influence? pt. 3
Who's the bad influence? pt. 4
pt. 5 in progress...
Bed Chem masterlist *
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pipomercuryy · 1 month ago
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Father issues energy⚡️
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latenightreadingpdf · 7 months ago
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Masterlist
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₊‧⁺˖⋆ Navigation ⋆˖⁺‧₊
Spencer Reid
Brewed Connections - After his favourite coffee shop closes unexpectedly, Spencer Reid discovers Y/N’s charming coffee shop and becomes a regular customer. Bonding over their shared love for literature, the two develop a close friendship.
Comfort in the Silence - Spencer Reid returns from a case with a headache. During their movie night, his friend discovers his worsening condition and offers comfort, deepening their bond.
Familiar Faces - Doctor Spencer Reid reunites with childhood friend Y/N, only to discover she’s being stalked. As the BAU investigates, old feelings resurface between them.
Stepping Forward - Spencer Reid, recovering from a knee injury, finds strength and support in his physical therapist, Y/N, as they forge a deep bond through his rehabilitation journey.
Between the Pages - In the university library, shy PhD student Spencer Reid has an unexpected encounter with Y/N, a popular classmate. Despite their differences, a shared interest in neuroscience sparks a captivating conversation, leading them from strangers to friends (and possibly more…).
Whispers in the Night - During a challenging case in Atlanta, BAU members Spencer and Y/N share a hotel room. As Y/N comforts Spencer through his insomnia with a gentle touch, their bond deepens, shifting their friendship into something more.
Spencer's Secret - All Spencer wanted was to finish his paperwork and go home, but now he’s in a bar, drunk, and confessing all his secrets to Derek.
Knock on the Door - In the midst of an intense investigation, Spencer and Derek bring you into protective custody after a disturbing discovery links you to their case. As you navigate the unexpected situation, Spencer’s calm presence offers reassurance, sparking an unexpected connection amid the chaos.
Peter Parker
A Secret Unveiled - Peter Parker, secretly Spider-Man, harbors feelings for his best friend Y/N, a passionate Spider-Man fan. As their friendship grows, Peter must decide whether to reveal his secret identity and hidden emotions.
Adrian Chase
Masked Affections - Y/N navigates the chaos of a small Italian restaurant and forms an unexpected bond with her coworker Adrian, unaware of his alter ego, Vigilante. When she’s attacked, Vigilante saves her, sparking a tangled tale of secrets and forbidden love.
Dave Lizewski
Hidden in Plain Sight - When Y/S/N saves Kick-Ass from a dangerous situation, he becomes obsessed with trying to uncover her true identity. Little does he know, Y/S/N is a girl from his school who secretly has a crush on him as well. As they patrol together, their worlds collide in ways neither expected, leading to a surprising revelation about who’s really behind the mask. (Part 2)(Part 3)
Marauders
Secrets of the Heart Masterlist - A mysterious transfer student from Beauxbatons joins Hufflepuff in her 5th year at Hogwarts. Initially hoping to stay under the radar, Aurora quickly catches the attention of the Marauders. Despite her attempts to keep her distance, an unexpected friendship blossoms as they pull her into their world of pranks, secrets, and school life, helping her open up and find her place at Hogwarts.
A Happy Halloween - At the Hogwarts Halloween party, Y/N plays matchmaker, leading to a magical night full of romance, laughter, and a bit of mischief among the Marauders.
Remus Lupin
First Kiss - Sirius, James, and Peter tease Remus about his lack of a first kiss.
Beneath the Moonlight - In the days leading up to a full moon, Remus Lupin receives an anonymous gift basket filled with potions, chocolates, and a carefully-brewed Wolfsbane Potion.
James Potter
Hold Me - After a hard-fought Quidditch match against Slytherin, Gryffindor’s loss hits James Potter harder than anyone expected. With the defeat weighing heavily on him, Y/N stays behind to offer comfort while his friends try to lift his spirits.
Regulus Black
A Hufflepuff's Heart - Regulus Black’s unexpected friendship with a sweet Hufflepuff is revealed when Sirius catches them together.
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lilmaymayy · 11 months ago
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im sorry but theres nothin i hate more than xocs in an xreader hashtag😔😔
ITS FINE IF THERES OCS IN THE FIC BUT THEY BETTER NOT END UP W MY MAN
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natabatts · 2 months ago
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collection of doodles i’ve done while on register at work :P
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bonesandchalamet · 1 year ago
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perfect - t.holland
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masterlist
requested: y- “Could you do reader and Tom or Harry with newborn !!”
pairings: dad!tom holland x mom!reader
warnings: fluff + child has been given a name
a/n: I hope I did this justice 🫡 I’m not very good with writing newborns!
you can’t figure out what you’re more obsessed with: her rolls, feet, or the fact that she looks exactly like Tom.
you haven’t been able to move from the crib. you should be asleep, but your eyes are glued to the crib where your newborn daughter, Emma, lays asleep.
you know Tom will come in any second. he’ll be concerned why you’re not in bed or pumping. he’ll ask if something’s wrong with Emma or with you. he’ll ask a series of questions you’ve heard on record since you came home from the hospital, but you don’t mind them. he’s concerned for his two loved ones.
“everything alright?” there it is. you sigh, taking a look at him for a brief second before looking back at her. she hasn’t moved, yet every rise and fall of her chest makes your heart swell.
“I just can’t decide which part I love more of her.” you carefully tap your finger against the wooden edge of the crib.
Tom exhales quite happily, it’s nothing serious to be worried about. he carefully steps into the room, his hand rests against your lower back, “why don’t you go sleep? we can worry about what we love most once we’ve rested.”
you shake your head. there’s tears welling your eyes, you know this is just hormones— or maybe you’re just so in love you can’t move from her crib.
“I just want to stay here forever.”
“we’ll have plenty of time to stay in here forever. we need some sleep.” he assures you, his palm running over your dirty hair. you can’t remember the last time you’d showered coming to think of it.
“you’re right, I’m being ridiculous.” you nod along with him finally moving from the crib. the emotions had dried allowing the exhaustion to finally settle in your body. Tom promises to take the first shift after napping and you don’t argue, just settle into the mattress.
“and you’re not ridiculous. however, I think her rolls are quite adorable.”
three hours.
you’d been asleep for three hours and didn’t even hear a single noise from emma or Tom. you assumed he would need your help at some point, but having not heard anything from either of them. you could trust he had it all under control.
you slowly rise out of bed and exit the bedroom, you see Tom in your living room rocking chair. he’s got a bottle in one hand, and her cradled in his other arm. she looks quite cozy and content with him.
“you’re awake.” he looks up from her with a frown. his plans were to let you sleep as long as you needed, but he knew you couldn’t leave her alone for too long without checking on her. the silence was always scary to hear.
“I know.”
“she’s been sleeping this whole time. you can go back to bed if you’d like?” he recommends rather than offering. you know the suggestion is what you should take, but you can’t get yourself to move from where you’re standing. your eyes glued to her once again.
“it’s everything. that’s what I love about her.” you say finally taking your eyes off of your sleeping newborn to look Tom in the eyes.
he nods in agreement looking back down at her in his arms, “she’s perfect.”
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goest-and-fuckest-thyself · 3 months ago
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I can’t help thinking about TASM!Peter Parker trying to be super gentle with human!reader when he fucks them. His superhuman strength makes it hard to gauge how much force he’s using while he’s thrusting. I love the idea of Peter being all soft and caring like,
“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”
Reader rolls their eyes and kisses him, “We have a safe word for a reason, Petey.”
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camilleverreault · 1 year ago
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Miguel O’Hara - Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse 2023
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