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BLAIR ─── any pronouns. 7teen. INTP 1w2. se-asian. cinephile. bookworm. average shoegaze listener. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind fanatic.

newest work masterlist request moodboards

#🗯 user : spiderfunkz #multifandom #mutuals

utopeian

is it a crime to be unsure?

SUMMARY You're pure, kind, mature, divine, and too good for Peter Parker.

PAIRING tasm!peter parker x gender neutral!reader

GENRE angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

WORD COUNT 2.4k

WARNINGS not proofread, college!au, peter deals with his grief over gwen, leads you on as a result, makes up for it by grovelling and begging, he's pathetic in this, told through peter's pov, reader is very patient with him, gender neutral pronouns are used, no use of y/n

AUTHOR’S NOTE i've seen tasm edits to who knows by daniel caesar, but i thought, let's flip it around. i loved writing this, so i hope y'all enjoy reading it, too! xx

Grief doesn’t leave. It’s an unassuming seed that grows in a crook of dirt; it creeps up on you and blooms, wrapping itself on your being. At first, it’s comforting like an embrace until the very same roots that hold you end up suffocating you. You feel it’s grip loosen, notice that its petals eventually cascade down, remnants that wither dry to a crisp. Remnants of what once was.

Fact: Peter Parker will always love Gwen Stacy.

Fact: Peter Parker loves you now.

Fact: Peter Parker has to decide if he’ll remain in a world that is now a memory, or move forward with a future he could have.

#🫧: fanfics

cherishyunah

PETER, COME ON

STARRING: peter parker x gn!reader

WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of blood, proofread and edited it with hopes and dreams (aka, i didn't do it. give me a break i'm on holiday.)

SUMMARY: when your boyfriend misses another date, you reach your last straw

RUN TIME: 800-ish words

SOUNDTRACK: henry, come in - lana del rey

DIRECTORS CUT: chat so i am actually gonna start editing these and proofreading them, but i don't have my computer with me (#onholiday) and we gotta keep the grind going, saur just bear with this till i return home to my precious computer.

"hey, can i come in?" you hear peter's tentative voice ask from outside your bedroom door, disrupting you from your listening-to-music-and-crying-in-the-dark session.

"door's unlocked," you mumble, so quiet you can barely hear it yourself, but peter somehow does, slowly pushing the door open till the hall light illuminates your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

"shit," he mutters, mostly to himself, before coming to sit down at the end of your bed. "baby, i'm so sorry."

"you missed it. again," you sniffle, voice hoarse from all the earlier sobbing. "i was out in the rain, all alone, just holding onto hope that you'd show up, but you didn't. you never do."

his heart hurts from the sight of you, the person he's meant to protect, so sad because of him, but he can't tell you the truth. can't tell you that he was —

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. i'll make it up to you," it's only when he says that do you realise that he's brought flowers and your favourite snacks, placed down in a bag by his feet. it's thoughtful, but still, he should've brought you them at the park, at the time he said he'd be there, not just as a consolation present.

#🫧: fanfics

norwayromanoff

Not in the Job Description

masterlist

Flirty!NR x shy!r

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You have no idea how to physically, mentally, or emotionally handle when Natasha Romanoff flirts with you—you’re just a records technician. Well, at least she seems to enjoy your fluster.

Tumblr glitched and the ask disappeared. 😭 But I happened to have the request written down, so here it is: “You are probably very busy and have already a lot of stories in mind but I was wondering if you could write a story with avenger Natasha (older and very audacious, sensual and flirty) and very shy reader (working as either secretary or other office job in avenger tower)”

#🫧: fanfics

when i'm in a ghosting-avoidant competition but my biggest opponent is myself

#blair talks

obsessed with avatar. obsessed with smau's. obsessed with x reader. obsessed with cortis. obsessed with mcu's upcoming works. i love being a teenage girl!!

#blair talks

yoxiaogi

⸻ AGITATE

aonung just loves to rail you up cw. aonung being an ass , he might be a little ooc, just short one shot nothing deep an. i havent written avatar fics in a while, so sorry if its not so good

You never cared much about Aonung. To you, he had always just been the chief’s son—nothing more. Easy to ignore.

Until, somehow, that changed.

It wasn’t sudden. No single moment you could point to. More like… one day you realized he was there. Not just in the distance, not just part of the village noise—but near. Close enough that you could hear the shift in his breathing when he was about to speak.

And apparently, he had noticed you first.

Before, you had been just another figure moving along the shore, another pair of hands helping with nets, another voice blending into the others. Now, you were… something else. Someone he seemed to find without trying, even in a crowd.

It got annoying.

Aonung made a habit of being a few steps behind you—or ahead, depending on what suited him—always ready with some comment. Not the cruel kind. Just… irritating. Teasing. Carefully chosen words meant to pull a reaction out of you.

And they worked.

Every time your nose wrinkled, every time you shot him that sharp, warning glare—he would stop. Not because he lost interest, but because, somewhere under it all, he didn’t want you to actually dislike him.

The sun had already dipped low, painting the water in streaks of gold and deep orange. The tide pulled gently at the shore, foam brushing over your feet before slipping back again, leaving the sand cool and damp beneath you.

You sat near the edge of the beach, a fishing net spread across your lap. The thin threads were rough against your fingers, still damp from earlier use, small bits of seaweed caught stubbornly between the knots. Your hands moved carefully, working through the tangles, loosening them little by little.

The faint smell of salt clung to everything—the air, your skin, the net itself.

You could feel it before you saw him.

That gaze.

“What is it again?” you asked, not looking up, your fingers still busy as you pulled at a tight knot.

A quiet chuckle came from somewhere behind your shoulder, low and familiar.

“What do you mean?” Aonung said, voice light, already edged with amusement. “I’m here to help you, of course.”

You scoffed under your breath, tugging a little harder at the net. “Of course. Help.”

“Oh, please don’t be like that.” You heard him shift closer, the soft sound of sand compressing under his weight as he crouched beside you. “I’m always ready to help you—here, give it to me.”

He didn’t wait for permission.

The net slipped from your hands as he took it, his fingers brushing yours for a brief second. You finally looked up, brows raising slightly as you watched him settle beside you, spreading the net across his knees like he actually knew what he was doing.

He didn’t.

His fingers moved too quickly, too confidently. He pulled at the wrong loops, tightened knots that should’ve been loosened. The net shifted and twisted under his grip, the tangles growing worse with each attempt.

A small piece of dried seaweed snapped off and fell into the sand.

You exhaled softly through your nose.

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered.

Aonung paused, hands still tangled in the mess he’d made.

"Oh.”

The water was cooler now, the last warmth of the day fading as the sky deepened into darker shades. Gentle waves lapped around your legs as you stood knee-deep in the sea.

You gathered the net in your hands, the weight of it familiar, and cast it out in one smooth motion. It spread wide over the surface, catching the fading light before sinking beneath.

Aonung lingered nearby, water shifting around him as he moved, watching you with that same steady attention.

“You’d catch more fish if you threw it differently,” he said after a moment.

You glanced at him briefly, pushing a damp strand of hair away from your face. “I know what I’m doing, Aonung.”

You pulled the net back in, muscles tensing slightly with the effort. Silver bodies flashed within it, fish twisting and flickering as they caught the last light of the sky.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he insisted, stepping into the water without thinking.

The moment he moved, the water rippled sharply.

The fish scattered.

You stilled, then slowly turned your head toward him, your expression flattening before tightening into annoyance. Your nose wrinkled just slightly.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Aonung smiled, as he watched your face—like that reaction alone had been worth it.

“What?” you asked, sharper than necessary.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, though the smile didn’t leave. “Nothing at all.”

With time, you got used to him.

That was the strange part.

His presence stopped feeling intrusive. The teasing still irritated you—he made sure of that—but it no longer felt like something to push away. It became… expected. Something woven into your days as naturally as the tide.

You found yourself noticing when he wasn’t there.

And that was worse.

There were moments when things shifted.

He still teased, still hovered, still said things just to get a reaction out of you. But sometimes, he would fall quiet instead. Walk beside you without speaking, matching your pace without comment. Hand you something before you even asked, his fingers brushing yours a second longer than necessary. Step in without making it obvious he was helping—fixing a knot, steadying something, chasing fish back toward your net without a word.

And you started letting him.

Not openly. Not in a way you would ever admit.

But you stopped telling him to leave. Stopped moving away when he stood too close. Stopped pretending you didn’t hear the difference in his voice when he said your name.

The evening air was quieter than usual, the village sounds fading into the distance until all that remained was the ocean. The sky stretched wide above, painted in deep blues and soft violet, the first stars beginning to flicker faintly. The tide rolled in and out in a slow rhythm, the foam barely reaching you before retreating again.

Aonung found you anyway.

He always did.

“No work today?” he asked, stopping a few steps away, his silhouette outlined faintly against the dimming light.

You didn’t look at him. “I finished earlier.”

He hummed, like that explained everything, and moved to stand beside you. Close enough that you could hear the quiet shift of his breathing, the faint drip of water from his skin hitting the sand.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It stretched, easy and slow, filled only by the sound of the waves and the distant calls from the village. A breeze passed between you, carrying the cool scent of the sea.

Then you felt it again.

His gaze.

“You’re staring,” you said.

“I always stare.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch him in your peripheral vision. “You’re bad at being subtle.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

That made you pause.

You finally looked at him properly.

Aonung was already looking at you—of course he was—but there was something different in it now.

Something steadier.

Your chest tightened, just slightly.

“…what?” you asked again, quieter this time.

For once, he didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes flickered briefly to your mouth, then back up again, like he hadn’t meant to—but couldn’t help it.

“Nothing,” he said, though it sounded less convincing than before.

You didn’t believe him.

But you didn’t push.

The space between you felt smaller now. Not physically—but something had shifted, like the air itself had grown heavier.

A wave rolled in, a little stronger this time, the water reaching your feet before slipping back again, leaving a cold trail behind.

Aonung moved. Slowly.

He stepped closer, close enough that his arm brushed yours lightly, the contact brief but noticeable. You could feel the warmth of his skin, a sharp contrast to the cool air around you.

You didn’t move away.

“I’m going to try something, okay?” he asked softly, waiting for your answer—but you stayed quiet and still.

That seemed to be all the permission he needed.

His hand lifted, slower than you’d ever seen him move, like he was giving you time to stop him. When you didn’t, his fingers brushed lightly against your jaw, roughened slightly from work, but careful—almost hesitant.

You inhaled sharply, the sound quiet against the steady ocean.

For someone who talked so much, he was so quiet now.

He leaned in just slightly, pausing again, close enough that you could feel his breath.

You could have pulled back.

You didn’t.

The kiss was brief. Just a soft press, uncertain at the edges, like he wasn’t entirely sure how far he was allowed to go. Warm, fleeting, gone almost as soon as it happened.

When he pulled away, he stayed close.

“…you’re still irritating,” you murmured, your voice low.

Aonung let out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh, his forehead nearly brushing yours.

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to change that.”

#🫧: fanfics

man i miss ao’nung

#blair talks

LOVE ur new theme

thank u sm love<333

#♡ . love letters #mutuals ₍^. .^₎

i rlly dont like men but sometimes i just wnna have a bf

#blair talks

nothing stresses me out more than curating another theme for my profile

#blair talks

spiderfunkz

─── ✷ MY OWN WORST ENEMY . peter parker x reader

peter came in through the window last night ; cw. fluff , established relationship , rom-com cliché's , prompt inspired by the song of the title ; words. 0,6k

author's note ⌇ with the brand new day trailer out i feel like the best thing i could do is comeback with a peter parker blurb even though its tasm!peter lololl anyways feel free to send in some of ur thoughts and requests for himmm

dating new york's infamous spider-man was far from normal. even before that, who knew you would have a spark with the boy you barely acknowledged in high-school? never mind that, who knew he'd be your boyfriend let alone the blue and red vigilante crossing the busy streets? it's a bizarre scenario your thirteen year-old self would've imagined. but hey, you're living it now.

somehow, you'd have to smuggle late night emergencies and early morning absences within your routine. peter would crash by during the most painful hours and yet you showed no complaints, patching him up as you listen to his recent encounters with all kinds of villains, and finishing up with kisses plus takeaway pizza from the shop nearby.

you were used to him entering your room via window all bruised up and muddy, with puppy dog eyes you couldn't imagine saying no to. but of course, being peter parker's girlfriend you wouldn't expect anything less. not when your bed-rotting, music-listening, session was interrupted by obnoxious knocking. peter parker smiled obliviously through your window, mouthing a 'please let me in' whilst giggling internally.

the skies were melting into a dark orange and purple tint, you got up to open the locked latch as peter struggled to find balance. greeted with a kiss on the nose, peter clumsily fell onto the carpet— all existence of his spider-senses seem to vanish into thin air when he's around you. you scoff in disbelief whilst he fixed his hair, peter finally spoke, "don't look at me like that, at least i'm not bleeding onto your carpet like the last four times,"

"five times, actually," you correct him.

he scratches his head, he asked, "you keep count?" in which you nodded. you took the time to study peter, it was a refreshing sight to see as he's correct on one thing, he isn't all bloody. he was wearing the shirt you bought him months ago, layered on top of a long white sleeve top, and it complimented the jeans he was wearing too. you were undeniably in love with him at this moment— peter looked as if he just came out of your favorite 2000s rom-com.

"if you're not all beaten up, why come so suddenly through my window?" you furrowed your brows, peter shrugs ultimately, "i dunno? it's a nice change, and i don't think your doorman likes me anyways," the room lights up alongside his dimples. you gesture peter to join you on the carpet, "mr. stevie? he's the sweetest, what could you possibly do for him not to like you?" he leans onto your head.

"remember when you were sick and i had to buy two huge tubs of soup and deliver it to you personally?" peter questions, you nod slowly, as if you were unsure— "yeah, well, i only gave you one tub, because guess what happened to the other one..."

"oh peter, don't tell me you spilt it—"

"all over his attire, fully coaxed in warm soup."

you slapped the palm of your hand onto your forehead, peter laughed as he fixed the crook of his glasses. the laughter slowly fades into one with the light of the sun setting, the hues mixing harmoniously with you and peter's features. he took a moment to fully embrace your beauty. you did as well— peter's glasses were slightly crooked from all the falling and tripping throughout the months, his hair messy from either the wind outside or his sudden entrance, the shirt hugged him so well you knew the second you gave it it's as if it was made for him.

peter's gaze was locked onto yours, "if you wanted to kiss me, you know you can, right? i didn't come through your window for nothing." his teasing tone made you snap back to reality. the stupid grin on his face grew as you became embarrassingly red.

#self reblog #peter parker

─── ✷ MY OWN WORST ENEMY . peter parker x reader

peter came in through the window last night ; cw. fluff , established relationship , rom-com cliché's , prompt inspired by the song of the title ; words. 0,6k

"five times, actually," you correct him.

"oh peter, don't tell me you spilt it—"

"all over his attire, fully coaxed in warm soup."