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Wade Wilson and Quentin Beck are NYPD cops who come across a rather pretty teenage delinquent called Peter Parker. It’s hard to be professional when there’s a naughty boy begging to be punished. Cop!AU threesome.

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Flower Child (Prologue)

a/n: I love the Spider-Man community on here, so I figured I’d bring my story over. It’s also available on Wattpad, under the same name (my username is OneLifeToLiv). Enjoy!

Peter cursed softly as his precariously balanced textbook slid off his knee. Quick as always to catch it, he placed it back on his lap and pored over the small words. For once, he was able to ignore the shoulder of the stranger roughly jostling him on the subway, as it usually was like someone slamming into his nervous system, igniting his whole body with sensation. At least, with his senses so heightened, it felt that way. But not even the disgruntled New Yorker next to him could ruin his bliss. And Peter might as well have been reading the back of a soup can for all it was worth, as his mind was completely elsewhere.

His wide grin sat on his face the entire morning commute, and on the walk to school, and the walk to his locker. To anyone else, it might’ve seemed strange that he bore such a large grin when he wore a large bruise over his right eye. And a cut on his temple to complement it. And maybe, had Peter Parker lived anywhere other than New York City, someone other than his aunt would be concerned with his appearance.

But everyone else always had better things to do.

Not that he cared. His head was swimming, his body floating on air as he thought about his last week. Arguably, Peter had had plenty of good weeks before. There was one week in the summer where he and Aunt May went to every niche museum they could find and bought the dumbest souvenirs that went along with them. Then another week, where he and Ned challenged themselves to build a thousand-piece Lego set every day for seven days. It definitely made a dent in their savings, but it was totally worth it. Then there was the first week he learned how to swing through the skyscrapers around the city on the webbing he’d made himself. That feeling of freedom, the sheer joy knowing nothing could stop him, it was unbeatable.

Until last week, when he came home to his aunt sitting on a couch, serving Tony Stark her walnut date loaf. Tony was quick to usher Peter into his own bedroom, eagerly spitting the loaf into the trash can next to Peter’s desk. There was a moment, while the billionaire flashed a video of him dressed up in a red onesie on one of his flashy gadgets, that Peter thought he was done for. He nearly broke the DVD player he’d held in his hands from gripping it so tightly. Surely there was nothing Iron Man could do about what he did in his spare time. Surely he wouldn’t try and take away that little slice of freedom he’d carved for himself out of an otherwise extraordinary situation.

And he didn’t. In fact, Tony Stark did the exact opposite. He asked Peter what drove him, what gave him the need to be something more than a teenage boy, albeit a brilliant one, but nonetheless ordinary on paper. Peter couldn’t help but answer honestly, feeling relieved that he could finally tell someone about his secret. And not just someone. Tony freaking Stark. He explained to Tony that if he continued to be normal when he was far from it, bad things would start to happen. Preventable things. Things that would ultimately be his fault. Peter watched the minute expressions on Tony’s face change, and something resolve behind his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was cutting Tony free of the webbing he’d used to attach him to his bedroom door, and the pair were off to Germany.

The rest, as they say, is history. Or, more like current events. As Peter approached his locker, his hearing filtered out the usual buzz of students, picking up snippets of their conversations.

“They’re saying Captain America’s a fugitive, now.”

“What a shame, I heard he was supposed to make more school videos.”

“Did you hear about that guy who grew to like fifty feet? I hear Hank Pym designed that suit.”

“Yeah, right. And I created the Iron Man suit. That guy’s a crackpot, he hasn’t made anything worthwhile since he worked for Stark.”

“… And then apparently, Spider-Man was there, wearing a new suit! No doubt something Tony Stark made for him…”

“‘Sup, Penis Parker,” A cheery voice sounded, making Peter’s smile falter. Flash Thompson was never one for subtlety, and his loud voice nearly echoed over the other students’ conversations. Flash, still walking, gestured to his eye, “Nice look you’ve got going there. It’s a real improvement.” He turned around and proceeded to meet up with his friends.

Peter merely shook his head, his smile lessened, but nonetheless there. If only Flash had known that an Avenger gave him that black eye. That the relentless talk of how cool those superheroes were, and Peter Parker, the boy Flash hated, was at the center of it all just days ago. It made the grin creep back onto his face, and Peter then opened his locker. He shot a quick text to Ned, asking him where to meet. He wouldn’t learn that Ned was at home sick until second period, but his mind would be elsewhere.

Peter’s senses rarely left him surprised to anyone trying to sneak up on him. Save for friends and family, he always felt when someone was at his back. That’s why he felt her approach him before she even had the chance to tap his shoulder and quietly clear her throat. Turning around, he blinked in surprise before adjusting his vision several inches down, into the face of Lila Landry.

Delilah Landry wasn’t, per se, a nobody, but she definitely chose not to be noticed by people. Exceptionally kind, and even more clever, Lila just liked to exist, it seemed. From the little that Peter had ever bothered to gather about her, she never let anyone go out of their way to do something for her. But it was like it was in her DNA to do kind things for everyone around her. It brought back a relatively recent memory of their freshman year, when everyone in the Midtown School of Science and Technology opened their lockers to a single flower, and a note wishing them a very happy Valentine’s Day. Just so that no one would feel alone. It had certainly made Peter’s day that much brighter.

For the few seconds of courage she’d mustered, Peter looked into her bright green eyes. Another example of a genetic mutation paving the way for something remarkable, something beautiful. But just like that, they were gone, and Lila’s eyes flickered to the cut on his temple. “Are you okay, Peter?” Her voice was soft, and the nerves danced through every syllable. Why she was always so nervous to talk to people, Peter didn’t know.

So he opted to carry the conversation and placed a hand on the cut in question. It didn’t even hurt anymore, perks of enhanced everything. What had been purple and black the day before was now a light blue and green, and Peter knew that within the next day, his black eye and the cut would both be gone entirely. “Um - yeah, it’s… all good.”

The worry was still in her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upwards. “Th-they’ve sure got a - a mean right hook on them, then?” As hard as he might try, Peter’s mind was still stuck on the events leading up to that bruise, and her words barely registered over the loud hallway. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she was so nervous to talk to him. If anything, it should’ve been the other way around.

But Peter was Peter, and he was oblivious to the frequent stares she sent him, oblivious to the fact that according to her, she was just a nobody, and he was Peter Parker, something special. And as Liz Allen walked by, well, Peter Parker was oblivious to the smile vanishing from her face as his eyes stared at Liz instead. “I’m so sorry,” He blinked, eyes returning to the girl in front of him as Liz rounded the corner. “What did you say? This hallway gets so loud.”

“Nothing,” Lila answered, pulling her backpack off her shoulders and digging around in one of the pockets. She pulled out a compact mirror and a tube of something or other, handing them both to Peter. He accepted them, confused as to why she’d given them to him, his eyes reading the word Covergirl on the mirror.

“Uh - thank you?”

The ghost of a smile returned to her lips, her eyes shining a little brighter than they had when she tapped on his shoulder. “If you don’t want people bombarding you with questions, feel free to put that over your eye. I’ll - I’ll see you around, Peter.” And Lila Landry turned on her heel and scurried off, smiling inwardly at her own personal victory. It had been the longest conversation she’d held with Peter Parker, and she’d take that as a win.

Peter, on the other hand, still held the makeup in confusion. He stared at it, shrugged, and pocketed it, before unloading his backpack into the locker that still hung open. When the bell sounded overhead, he jumped, and let another curse fall from his lips. He grabbed the books he needed and darted off to his first period, the makeup forgotten in his pocket. It wasn’t until after lunchtime that he pulled it out, thinking about his conversation with Lila.

How she was the only one who had noticed something off about Peter.

He smiled, applied the makeup to the best of his ability (it was more May’s forte than his), and finished his school day. He raced off the campus to the heart of Queens, grabbing a sandwich from his favorite deli, and rushed into an empty alley before changing into his gift that Tony Stark left with him. As he soared through the air swinging around on his webbing, Peter Parker, dressed as Spider-Man, felt like he was on cloud nine.

Yeah, it had been a good week.

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read it on the AO3 at

by Anonymous

Peter is staying with Tony and thinks he’s alone. He takes that time to have a very personal moment but gets caught. PEter is more embarrassed by his experimentation than anything else. An awkward conversation fallows but Tony is good at advice.

Words: 1423, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at
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It occurs to me that a number of these articles start off with an anecdote about how I came up with the idea. I guess that’s fine though. Anyway, for some reason I had Into the Spider-Verse Mary-Jane’s hair in my head all day and eventually that got me thinking about the movie itself and, as negativity is a tough habit to ditch, inevitably about my only real problem with the movie.

  Sure, Peter randomly names Miles’s electric attack (is it electricity? I dunno) which is problematic and not all of the choices made are sensible, but I can let those slide because I don’t actually see them as flaws but as limitations or characters being in the action rather than watching it from the outside, like I am. It’s one of those things that I try to take into account before crying “bad writing!”.

Anyway, my real problem is with the MJ wants a child, Peter doesn’t thing that sets up Peter’s character development. Almost any movie would bother me by doing this and not only because it has been done to death. Seriously, how many times have we seen this story? Usually as an excuse for conflict. And also not because I feel that it causes women who don’t want kids (see: tokophobia for just one example) to feel bad about not having the “maternal instinct” which I don’t even believe is real, although that is a thing.

  No, my problem is that it was a missed opportunity to reference the original comics.

I’m a nerd. So sue.

  Anyway, there was a chapter from way-back-when where Peter and his then wife were discussing becoming parents, but they were concerned about Peter’s mutation which could potentially be lethal for both MJ and the child should they develop an apparently random mutation. Peter even goes and speaks to Beast from the X-Men to discuss it. At the end MJ decides to focus on her career which is a relief to Peter.

  I feel that it is a brilliant dive into a realistic concern in a world of superpowers. And with just a single line the movie could have referenced it and added some new life to a zombified plot device.

              ((“She wanted kids and I- I had my mutation.”))

  I didn’t add anything, just changed one line to another. It doesn’t even say anything too much, just enough to encourage viewers to think about it and would just be one more nod out of many already existing nods to the source material.

I know there are likely a number of reasons for this, including that this was one story the authors just didn’t know about. Can’t reference something you don’t know about. Still, even if that were the case it would have been nice to have them come up with something a bit more interesting anyway, especially given how great the rest of the movie was.

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Originally posted by tommyhoelland2013

The air was too warm for it to be December 24. There was no way it was winter time if you could walk around in the middle of the deserted New York City in a tank-top, but yet here was Y/N strolling down Times Square sweating on Christmas Eve. The beat-up watch on their wrist that was somehow still working even said it was December 24, but it didn’t make any sense. If it was Christmas Eve then Y/N needed to find Peter a present. 

Y/N climbed over the piles of rubbish as they thought about what to do. Y/N and Peter had been best friends since Kindergarten. They had bonded over a love for Star Wars and science and quickly became inseparable. Peter would joke that they were the brains of the operation and he was nothing more than the henchman would do whatever she said. It wasn’t completely true but neither one of them wanted to argue over it. That was just how their little world worked, Peter would spew out little random facts of knowledge and Y/N would come up with a way to turn it into a project. At least, that’s how things used to work. 

Y/N arrived at the little makeshift camp the two had set up in the basement of their old apartment building. Peter had gone out, most likely looking for supplies, so Y/N had the place to themselves. Checking carefully that no one had come in while they were out Y/N went over to a hole in the wall and pulled out a dented lockbox. 

In all honesty, it was a miracle that the box had survived for so long. Over the past year, the world has become a nightmare that wasn’t designed for the sad little box. It’s hard to explain what happened but some kind of sickness caused governments to collapse and the climate to drastically change. It was like a parasite was leaching the life out of the Earth, taking our protagonists’ parents and loved one while leaving them solely to their own devices. 

Y/N reached up with trembling hands and grabbed a key off of a chain around their neck. With a little struggle, she got the box to open, the treasures of the two seemed to grin up at her. After the first wave of destruction, Peter had come up with the idea to lock up anything the cared about deeply in the box so they could have some sense of security. Their passports, money (that didn’t have any worth anymore), and little things like action figures from the first grade had made the box their new home. 

There was also one more item that Peter didn’t know about that Y/N took a little too much pride in. When Y/N was only 13 years old, their mother gave her a small dagger. It was a gift that made no sense at the time, but now it was the perfect item for the new world. 

“Y/N? Are you here?” An 18-year-old boy crept down the stairs. He had messy brown hair that covered the eyes that were filled with too much sorrow to belong to a boy his age. 

“I’m here Pete,” Y/N slipped the dagger up their sleeve as she quickly shut the box. “Did you find anything interesting today?”

“Material? No, but news? Yes,” Peter flopped down on the old dust couch that took up most of the room. 

“Explain please,” Y/N collapsed next to Peter. It would have been easier to ask if the news was something they wanted to hear or not, but then they wouldn’t have heard the news because there was no such thing as good news anymore. 

“Remember when I told you about Mr. Stark?”

“You mean the amazing Mr. Stark who you never shut up about, why?”

“Well, he’s opened up a safe haven upstate and if you pass a test you can win a semi-permanent spot in the community.”

“What kind of test?”

“Probably something on your health and mental capacity.”

“That sounds rather sketchy,” Y/N got up and rummaged through their “fridge”. “And how would we even get there?”

“We walk and I know we’d both pass,” Peter climbed out off the couch and joined Y/N. “We both know that there’s nothing left for us here and if we go now, we have a better chance of getting in.”

“But leaving?”

“Leaving ghosts and rubble, how is that not better than staying? What more do we have in this basement? A shelter that’s going to collapse on us in our sleep is all we have here.”

Y/N gave Peter a long stare. “It’s not that I don’t want to leave, but walking all the way upstate? We could be killed.” 

“We could be killed here as well.” 

“I know that,” Y/N slammed the fridge door shut and marched back to the couch. “I just don’t want to abandon a perfectly good hid out for a scam. But if this is what you want then I’ll see you off.”

“And if it’s not a trap?” 

“Then I’ll stay with you. After all, why would I leave my best friend?” 

Soon the duo was off, out in the great unknown with death and destruction almost certainly following them all the way. The once-great city was now nothing more than a pile of rubble. 

The thought of Christmas was still ever-present on Y/N’s mind. It had been a little tradition of theirs to have a little competition to see who can out due the other with their gift. Neither of them had thought about it since last year and now Y/N couldn’t keep their mind off it. What could they get Peter that would really blow him away? Even if they could find the perfect gift for him how would they buy it? Nothing they owned would get them anything, well almost everything. 

They felt their dagger through her sleeve. What could they get by trading away the last reminder of their old life? What would Peter even want? 

“You’re being rather quiet, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m just thinking.”



“Oh. OH, that’s tomorrow, isn’t it? Well, I haven’t gotten you a present if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I was actually worried about what I was going to get you.”

Peter took Y/N’s hand in his, “If you really want to get me a present, then stay with me. I know you don’t trust the entire idea of this trip, but I would feel much better if you wouldn’t leave me. I always feel better when you’re with me.” 

“Would that win me the prize?” Y/N asked slyly. “I quite enjoy winning and I just want verbal confirmation of my victory.” 

Peter did nothing but laugh, “Who knows, I might find something that tops that. Maybe I have a signed copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.”

“Do you really?” Y/N shouted. 

“I meant hypothetically!”
“Hypothetically? Then no.” 



Peter just simply laughed and held Y/N’s hand tighter. It wasn’t all that bad to be stuck in the apocalypse with your best friend. 

The journey would’ve gone on without a hitch if it hadn’t had been for the worst Christmas gift ever. They were walking down a deserted highway a man dressed in all black appeared and began walking towards them. 

“Peter,” Y/N whispered. “Is he going to try and talk to us?”

“I don’t know,” Peter muttered back. 

“Hello there!” The man bellowed down the road. 

“Umm, hello?” Y/N called back nervously. They locked eyes with Peter as they shared a silent prayer. 

“I didn’t think anyone was left anymore, but look! I meet two young folks just a strollin’ down the street.”

“Peter, you should stay here and I’ll go and talk to him.” Y/N began walking towards the man but was quickly stopped by Peter.

“No, I should go,” Desperation filled his eyes as they both traveled to the worst possible outcome. 

“It will be okay, I promise. And if it turns out that I’m wrong then you can have the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’ a million times.” Peter tried to stop them but half of our duo was gone. 

“Well hello there, what can I help you with?” The man in black asked as Y/N stood next to him. 

“Nothing much, that is if you can tell me what your name is and what you want with us?”

“What do you mean by what I want with you?”

“I’m not stupid,” Y/N crossed their arms and then quickly uncrossed them to stop herself from falling on the dusty ground. 

The man copied Y/N’s form and smiled with a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Why you are a smart one, aren’t you? Those who survive an interaction with me usually call me Anansi,” Anansi smirked. 

“Was that a threat?”

“It depends, where are you going and what are you giving me so you can actually get there?” 

Y/N wasn’t good with sacrifices. When their mother had contracted the virus she had been in so much pain she had screamed at Y/N to kill her. Her mother knew that she wasn’t going to get better no matter what Y/N kept on promising. Y/N understood that if she didn’t do what her mother asked Peter and themselves would end up as sick as their mother. Finally, a man broke into their apartment and he shot Y/N’s mother before Y/N could shoot him. They had thrown up four times that night and didn’t talk for a month.

Here they were, with a decision that would definitely result in sacrifice and they could already feel the bile building up in the back of their throat. 

“We just need to keep going down this road, I’m guessing that you want money to let us pass,” Anansi just laughed and pulled a revolver out of the coat. 

“What would I do with money? My darling, you’ll have to try harder if you and your friend want to get to your destination alive.”

The dagger in their sleeve was growing warmer and warmer as the thought of what they had to give up grew clearer and clearer. 

She drew the weapons and held it out to the man, “Would this be a good enough payment?” 

Anansi jeered at dagger as a small smile stretched across his face. “This is enough payment for one person, call your friend over here and we can see what he can give as your fare.”

Half-heartedly, Y/N called Peter over. 

“What’s going on?” Peter asked with a small smile on his face. When it came to stressful situations, Peter preferred taking the humorous route as an attempt to smooth out any feeling of animosity in the air. 

“Peter, this man won’t let us pass if we don’t give him something as payment.”

The smile vanished from Peter’s face and was replaced with a stare that was trying its hardest to incinerate Anansi. “What’s the price for one fare?”

“For the nice fella, it’ll cost you more than you can imagine sony.” 

“I’ll pay.”


“It’s okay, Y/N,” Peter gave Y/N a comforting smile. “It’s okay.” 

“I’m so glad you think that,” Anansi said with a laugh. “Because it’s so difficult to do business with folks who lean towards the hysterical side of their emotions.” 

He yanked the dagger out of Y/N’s hand and drove it into Peter’s chest.

Time froze as the boy fell. Y/N couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. They could just watch as their best friend, the one person they had left in the world, hit the ground as the dark earth mixed with the crimson blood falling from Peter’s chest. 

Y/N fell to the ground as they frantically tried to find some sort of pulse. “No, no, no, no, no. Peter, you promised. You promised!” 

“Would you look at that, you didn’t need to give anything up. I was going to let you go freely my dear after messing with you, same with the boy. But looky here, he seemed like a right little brat. So look, I’ve saved the world from one more prick and you have one less person to worry about,” Anansi laughed. He had lost his soul far too long ago to worry about the feelings of one girl. “And Merry Christmas!”


A/N: I’m really sorry

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You know, as a Shane O Mac addict, when I first found out Miles Morales wears Jordans, I was a bit… um… well I wasn’t disturbed, but it was a bit jarring because YEAH.

Then, I did some research as to WHY he has the Jordans, and what they represent.

And now I just want Miles to rob Shane blind and steal the rest of his collection. 

You go Miles, rock them kicks.

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