#peter parker poetry

[backupanddoitagain]

Incandescent

Image credit: @mondlevan

Summary: A short poem with some thoughts during your evening date with Peter Parker.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Implied reference to death

A/N: A short poem that came to mind while musing about TASM!Peter Parker. The significance of time fascinates me, and I couldn't resist the adjacency of the tradition of stopping the clocks when someone passes away and how we refer to 'stopping time' so that we may savor moments while we live. But as Gwen Stacy said, 'what makes life valuable is that it doesn't last forever.'

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Incandescent

The night is young and so are we. The onset of fragility.

For when the stars come out to play, our eyes will meet but cannot say:

Will you stay until dark's gone? Will you linger til the dawn?

So little time have you to give. Stop the clock, I want to live.

No more hours here and there. No more chimes disturb the air.

In the silence forget the past. Live for the now, make it last.

Close your eyes to skies above, close your eyes and cherish love.

Additional exhaustive A/N below:

Forgive me for I'm not a poet, not even a lit major, but wth right?

As mentioned above, time and our perception of it is fascinating. At least to me. So is the subject of communication, both verbal and nonverbal. The piece above explores a date with Peter Parker in which neither is comfortable speaking their fears.

Relationships are as fragile as life itself and we frequently approach each other tentatively, especially in the early stages. Even when young and (somewhat) inexperienced, our life experiences have already shaped us into who we are in that moment with more to come in the future. So the Reader is asking a question (what now?), one that Peter himself may be asking as well. Each expresses themselves nonverbally with their eyes. Stars and eyes are frequently paired with couples. They have stars in their eyes or star-crossed lovers for two examples. The poem's title comes from the very *definition of the word incandescent: emitting visible light as a result of being heated. The contrast between light and dark, stars and space, and warmth (living) and death (cold) has been explored countless times in the arts and I won't be the last to dabble with it here.

The Reader knows that Peter's time is limited for a variety of reasons (the conflict of his dual roles, obligations, danger, etc) but also because everyone has a finite amount of time from birth to death and we know not how long that will be (life is fragile from the start). Peter gives Reader what time he can but is it enough? Reader knows this and doesn't want the reminder--the constant ticking of the seconds, the chiming of the hour--that time is passing.

Some viewers of the TASM franchise may have found the time symbolism in the movies too obvious, but I thought that it didn't hurt (me, the viewer) to have a reminder. Slowing down time to cherish others may the best we can hope for in lieu of stopping time, but when we take that time and hold onto it, it becomes ours forever in the form of memories, memories that are frozen in time.

*American Heritage Dictionary (5th ed). There are several definitions of the word, incandescent, and I selected one.

[devine-fem]

this ship isnt boring/bad, you guys don't get them like i do, i fear. if peter was a god, then wade would be his greatest disciple. if wade was an artist, then peter would be his muse. / Mario Puzo, The Godfather // it chooses you, miranda july // marcel proust // Terrance Hayes, The Same City // Eliza Crewe, Crushed // judas-redeemed // Mitski, I'm your man // u.k // Mitski, I'm your man // Richard Siken // Charlotte Eriksson Everything Changed When I Forgave Myself // u.k. // Noah Kahan You're Gonna Go Far // marilynne robinson, gilead

[florabellalove]

LET ME SPEAK MY TRUTH 🦢🫶🏼

sometimes I just want to read a reverse comfort fic about some big burly character absolutely breaking down, call it a saviour kink or whatever but there seems to be an absence in this world

[meganslife]

Spelling Errors - P. P.

MCU!Peter Parker x Fem!reader

summary: the cute barista at your local coffee shop always spells your name wrong.

warnings: none!! pure fluff:)

a/n: ooohhh my god i am obsessed with mcu peter lately so i did something. it’s rushed and barely proofread so i’m very sorry if there’s mistakes xoxo 💋💋 enjoy lovelies

Being a regular at a coffee shop had its perks.

One, it felt safe and secure.

Two, you always knew what to order.

And three, the cute barista.

Peter Parker. He was charming, and probably the most gorgeous guy you’d ever seen. But there was one problem.

He always spelled your name wrong.

Sure, it’s okay if it happens once or twice. But every time you ordered, he spelled your name wrong. It was a good thing that he was cute, otherwise you would’ve been mad.

The adult thing to do would have been to correct him– but it has been a year of ordering the same couple of drinks. It would have been very awkward to correct him now, a year deep into flirting and being a regular.

You hadn’t been to the coffee shop in a few days. The flu was kicking your ass. You started to feel slightly better at the three-day mark of being sick, so you walked down to the coffee shop. Hopefully, your go-to drink will make you feel better.

You walk in through a secret back door, mostly because you want to sneak up on Peter. You could only pray that he was working today.

“Your girl hasn’t been here in a bit, Peter,” One of his coworkers says, and you hear a sigh from your hiding spot in the secret hallway.

Peter groans, “Don’t remind me, Ned!”

A mug drops on the floor, and that’s your cue to walk up to the counter.

Peter is cleaning up the mess when you walk over, and he practically senses that you’re there.

“Hey,” You smile, “Made a mess?”

He grins, “I’ll be with you in a second.”

You wait by the counter, making occasional eye contact with his coworker, who you assume is Ned.

Peter eventually comes to the counter, asking if you want your go-to order. You say yes, and he gets on making it.

When he hands you the to-go cup, your name is spelled right, and his phone number is on it.

“You spelled my name right!” You beam, before slapping a hand over your mouth.

Peter turns around. “I was spelling your name wrong?”

You sigh.

“I should’ve told you, I know, but it was too late! By the time I noticed, you’d been spelling it wrong for almost a year. I’m sorry,” You explain. Ned snorts behind the counter, causing you and Peter to shoot daggers at him.

Peter looks at you after a while of awkward silence, his gaze soft and hesitant.

“Call me, okay?” He says, smiling widely.

Your throat kind of goes dry as you say, “I will.”

“Okay,” Peter smiles, “Well, you need to leave. You’re distracting me.”

A laugh erupts from you as you walk out. “Am I banned?”

“Just for today.”

[theycallmeinterstellar]

So like, little marvel head cannon because its just crossed my mind.

I wish there was a separate universe where pepper pots kept Peter around after Tony died. Because I can see them both just sitting at the dining table recounting different stories of stark about how funny he could be. How loving. How much of a stubborn ass he **could be**.

"I miss him"

"I know, so do I"

[croizsante]

To her Scar

~Moon dust in your lungs and stars in your eyes ☆~

He was the knock of the wind and blew those dark curtains from the window , enlightening her house. He wore a piece of magic and met her when the fire catched the souls of lovers.

He called her his love, while she called him her scar, he was the escape from the reality of flames of red, he was the embrace of love and comfort, he drew his life around her mind.

She found him to be the escape, the reason to live this reality while he wasn't even real, yet he existed in her mind. He wrapped her as his love, so did she.

She planned an escape from her house and from the people who brought the flames so red that broke the life of the little she. She failed to escape yet she had imagined a runway with him. She threw away those realities and embraced him, made him and loved him.

He was the wind she called for when things would apart, he was ice who stopped that flame of red. He had magic she said, she imagined him changing the whole world just for her. She was in love.

They both made a story of love under the darkness of the sky and Sins of the stars. She found him a charm to her life and kept him tight.

Until she met a man who knew nothing yet everything about her. He knew those unsaid wounds, she was hiding in the name of her lover. He knew all of them. He was the embrace of reality who took her back from her feigned lover. He brought the touch of love, he called her his stella.

[typewriter-worries]

maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you’re at your worst

On Political(ized) Life, Kanika Lawton | Corner Table, Joseph Lorusso | Giovanni's Room, James Baldwin | Embrace, Peter Wever | Jonathan Carroll | We've Got Each Other, Ron Hicks | Rondeau Redoublé, Dorothy Parker

[sundry-whovengerslocked]

Dirty Valentine by Richard Siken

[thefairmaidenoffandom]

yes peter parker would drink fanta out of a champagne glass. yes he would do it in a fancy restaurant

[reignmaefall]

The marvel brainrot is brainrotting. And I ain't just talkin avengers, mcu. I'm talking x-men, spider-man comics, fantastic four I am DEEP in this and I will never crawl out. I love it here (it's sad and happy and sad and happy and sad and beautiful and sad and happy)

[im-a-luxury]

i am a HUGE sucker for “peter looks in the mirror one day and all he can see is uncle ben” but i am also a sucker for every other swap-in you can make. (mini fanfics below the cut, with many self indulgent headcanons LMAO)

miles is talking with his dad one night after everything calms down. the conversation is light, easy, but his dad goes quiet suddenly. his dad looks at him, and miles has never seen him so quiet. his eyes go misty, and miles is scared something happened for a moment. but his dad just sets a hand in his shoulder and says, “you look like your uncle.” miles cries in his dads arms that night.

gwen is talking with her dad over breakfast, and something slips out of her mouth. she recognizes the sentence, why she has it in her head, but she doesn’t know from where. her dad freezes, before turning to look at her. his eyes soften, but his face and shirt are painted and streaked in blue and grey. “you sound just like her.” he doesn’t give gwen time to ask who, before he turns back to his eggs.

peni never knew her mother. she died while giving birth to her, so her father raised her, then her aunt and uncle after he…yeah. peni doesn’t know much about her either, just that she was smart, and her dad thought she was pretty. peni’s going through her dad’s stuff one night, when she pulls up a picture of her. peni finds that her reflection matches up perfectly.

hobie doesn’t have many memories of their parents, no photos either. it’s fine, they dont miss them much, and they figure they dont look much like them either. they have one thing that ties them back to that little apartment in old york. it’s a picture, old and faded, of their brother. as the picture gets more worn, the only thing that hobie can see is their brother’s face. it might as well just be a picture of themselves.

jess loves her mother. more than anything on earth (besides her baby). she’s been there throughout her pregnancy, she was there when her captain stacy died, and she was there when her husband did too. it was the first time jess ever saw her mother cry, and she finds out that tears make people look a lot alike.

noir doesn’t look like uncle ben. the thought used to make him angry. why am i never good enough?! then it depressed him. why am i never good enough…? but he slips his glasses on one morning, and his hair folds and curls down on his forehead and sticks up at his neck. he ties his tie, and looks in the mirror. he finds himself wondering, how long can you look in the mirror before you start looking like your father?

miguel doesn’t have a father. at least not anymore. george o’hara died a long time ago, and tyler stone…well, why would he want anything to do with him? miguel rages at himself everytime he thinks about him—not stone, but the man who raised him. george’s been dead for years, why can’t you just get over it?! but years of blood and fear don’t just disappear because a stone gets plunked in the ground. miguel tears up the last photo he has of george, and goes to splash water on his face. he looks in the mirror, and he sees himself. miguel looks nothing like his father, and he finds himself thinking that’s a good thing.

[babygirl-but-a-boy]

Ghost Spider being her name is truly fitting- she is a ghost. She was meant to haunt. She was never meant to be human, she was never meant to live.

[itsrainingtheblues]

I'm Not a Brave Person

I'm not a brave a person

But I will laugh in the face of danger

I will smile and joke

So as to not let them know their effect

I'm not a brave person

But I will stand in front of others

I will defend everyone

Even if it feels like my heart has dropped through the ground

I'm not a brave person

But I will face the worst of the worst if it means that someday will be better than today

I will scream and fight

With everything that I have even to save just one person

I'm not a brave person

But I will die before telling them that I'm scared

[devon-shire]

uhhh

something something about peter's functional immortality vs hobie being fated to die young

something about a supernova lasting a few months, barely a second compared to the length of time of the vast, and cold neverending expanse of the universe

[meganslife]

Party Animal - P.P. x Reader

Frat!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: you see your ex at a frat party, and to avoid him wanting to talk to you, you act like you’re dating the closest guy— who just so happens to play along.

A/N: i’m on my frat peter agenda 😈

A frat party was the last thing on your mind.

Your roommate, Gwen, insisted that you go with her.

“C’mon, Y/N,” She said, “You and Flash broke up a while ago. It’s time to get back in the game!”

You and Flash did break up a month ago, yet he was still calling you every day and begging to get back together. You never let him get under your skin. College has also been stressing you out lately… maybe a party was exactly what you needed to let loose. Or find someone new.

You put on a simple outfit. Just some jeans and a tube top, and then you and Gwen were off to the party.

The house was surprisingly close, only a couple blocks away from your apartment. It was a little risky walking to a party as two women, but you knew that Gwen was strong, and so were you.

“It smells in here,” Gwen laughs, opening the door for you.

You dart to the kitchen before Gwen can even see where you’re going. You just need something to drink. Something to make all of the stress fall off your shoulders.

When you emerge from digging in the fridge for alcohol, Flash is right beside you, staring.

You look at him for a moment, before scoffing and walking away as fast as you can.

He follows close behind, and you know that.

Someone in the living room has to be fair game. Someone to pretend you’re with so Flash will get off your ass. The first person you see is a guy sitting on the couch, legs spread slightly while talking to another guy. He looks at you, and watches as you approach him.

You sit in his lap, hoping you don’t look too awkward, and that Flash sees.

“Do I know you?” The boy grins, his hand sliding across your hip.

You gulp. “I-I’m Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N. You’re super pretty, but what are you doing in my lap?”

“I’m trying to get Flash off my ass,” You whisper into his ear. “He won’t leave me alone about getting together again. I just need him to leave me alone.”

He laughs, squeezing your hips like he’s done it a million times. “I see…”

“I told you my name. What’s yours?”

“Peter. Peter Parker,” He smiles, “I’m in the frat.”

You smile, “Okay, Peter, how many girls have you kissed tonight?”

“None. I usually don’t,” Peter smirks, looking down at your lips, “Why do you ask?”

Your hands cup his cheeks, and you nearly forget why you’re in Peter’s lap.

“Kiss me?” You ask.

Peter grins, “I usually take girls out first before I kiss them.”

“Shut up,” You laugh, “If you want to take me out then say it.”

“Am I that transparent?”

You scoff, leaning forward and kissing Peter. He kissed back like he’d been craving this.

“No, but seriously,” He murmurs between kisses, “Can I take you out?”

“Later,” you mumble, kissing down his neck.

Peter laughs, “You’re trouble.”

[theycallmeinterstellar]

Why you're being emotional over an intro?

AN INTRO? YOU'RE REALLY THINKING THAT THIS WORK OF ART IT'S A SIMPLE INTRO?

I GREW UP WITH THIS, I'M STILL NOT OVER IT, THIS INTRO OVER HERE IS LITERAL POETRY