#barely started and it already looks radioactive

[golyadkin]

you canNOT give me an old canvas or particleboard or anything flat really because i WILL cover it in textured colour gradients

#had some green leftover from painting the model person and a board with an old abandoned painting on it #and i've wanted to do a green gradient for ages #barely started and it already looks radioactive

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Origin (1)

Summary: How you and Hazel and the fight club started. Also Hazel's Spider-Woman. But you don't know that.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of bruises and cuts, Idk what else

Word Count: 1508

Note: It's literally my first post. It may suck. I don't care. I don't get paid for this. I hope you do enjoy though, cause there's not enough Spider-Woman Hazel Callahan fics out here. Love yall - Bia <3

“You got paired up with (Y/N) for the ‘women murdered in history’ project?” 

Hazel nodded at Josie’s question. She had just left Mr. G’s class with PJ and Josie where he had introduced a new project to create a diorama based on a famous woman who was murdered. The partners were chosen by random, and to Hazel’s horror, she was paired up with you. 

Who just happened to be Hazel’s crush for 4. fucking. years.

Hazel had many moments of crises in her 18 years of life, which included getting bitten by a radioactive spider during sophomore year at a school field trip to the science fair, getting caught by Josie and PJ’s spider-trap (Where PJ wanted to catch Spider-Woman for her youtube channel with a net, and she actually managed to?) and Hazel had to reveal her secret identity, and her mother’s recent divorce with her minor-fucking, emotionally unavailable father. 

But none of them made Hazel as frantic as being paired with you for a school project. 

“Thats fucking amazing,” PJ said in jealousy. “How come that never happens with me and Brittany? I got paired up with that one emo kid who probably wants to blow up the school.” 

Hazel groaned, leaning her head against her locker. She was already tired from last night’s fight with a local bank robbery, which led to her face scratched and bandaged up today. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she was going to impress you. 

“Okay, well, you don’t look very happy considering you’re like, obsessed with her,” Josie commented. She was well used to Hazel’s constant remarks about how pretty you looked during class or how you made eye contact with her for 2 seconds. 

“I’m fucked. I just get so nervous around her,” Hazel replied, anxiety seeping out from her voice. “I have never really had a conversation with her other than, ‘hello’. If I can’t even talk to her properly, how am I going to do a whole project with her?” 

PJ rolled her eyes. “Hazel, why are you so worried? You literally swing down tall ass buildings and beat up tall ass criminals, and you can’t even talk to a girl that you like? Didn’t your spider powers give you like, enhanced everything?” 

“I’m pretty sure the whole point of Hazel’s secret identity is for you to not talk about it out in the open, PJ.” 

“I’m just saying, if I saved the neighborhood every night wearing a red and blue spandex lady gaga suit, I’d be getting so much puss right now.” 

The two continued to bicker as Hazel sighed. PJ was right. It was just a project. It wasn’t a big deal, it was only for a week, and she was certain you were straight anyways. All she had to do was just man up and talk to—

“Hazel?” 

Hazel jumped, turning around from her locker to see you standing with an alluring smile on your face. You wanted to talk to your project partner before the start of next class, who seemed to be very stunned at the sight of you. She looked like a puppy, with her widened blue eyes and her tousled brown hair. 

Hazel blinked rapidly and clutched her notebook, barely managing to reply with a small, “Hi.” 

“I don’t know if you remember me. I’m (Y/N),” You introduced yourself, starting to offer your hand but retracting immediately because you realized that you’re a high schooler and that it’s probably lame to shake hands in this day and age. “I’m partnered up with you for Mr. G’s class—” 

“-Yeah, I know who you are. (Y/N),” Hazel said, almost too quickly, causing her friends to hold in their laughter. “Mr. G’s project. Yeah– I can work on it. All of it, if you want.” 

“No, of course not, we can work on it together,” You laughed, before recognizing all the injuries on Hazel’s face. “By the way, you’re pretty bruised up. Are you okay?” 

Hazel instantly touched her bandages, feeling a bit embarrassed at her state. 

“’m fine. I just fell.” 

You frowned, staring intensely at Hazel’s face. “I don’t think you can get these cuts from falling.” 

“Well, some of them are from falling and some of them aren’t...” Hazel trailed off as you came closer, your face filled with genuine worry. You knew Hazel wasn't exactly popular, but you didn’t know she was bullied. Hazel slowly backed away, her heart beating out of her chest as her back made contact with her locker. 

Hazel's Face started to burn up, turning to Josie for help. Josie stuttered, “This is nothing, she just– she’s part of this— this club, and—”

“A club? What kind of club fucks up her face like this?” You interrupted, your hands reaching out and brushing Hazel’s bangs out of the way, carefully examining the bandages. “Is it like a fight club?” 

“Yes!” 

“No–” 

“-More like a women’s self defense club?”

You looked at the three girls who’ve provided different answers all at the same time.

PJ spoke up first. 

“Yes, we absolutely do have this club where girls fucking beat each other up and shit for… feminism. So that we can teach girls how to protect themselves from the evil male football players.” 

“You know how to fight?” You asked, staring at PJ who barely had any muscles.

“Yes. Because, We… went… to… juvie over the summer.” 

You blinked.

“...There’s also a serious lack of female solidarity in this school,” Hazel stiffly added. 

“Right. Okay, that’s fine, I guess,” You accepted. “Could I join?” 

“Yes. Absolutely!” PJ exclaimed, her face lighting up immediately. “You could bring your friends too. You know. Specifically your cheerleader friends. Specifically Brittany and Isabel.” 

Before you could question why specifically Brittany and Isabel, the bell rang to inform the students for the start of next class. 

“Okay, here—” You took the notebook Hazel was holding and quickly scribbled your number on one of the pages. “Message me so we can talk about the project. And the club. Is that okay?” 

You handed the notebook back as Hazel nodded, in denial that you just gave her your fucking phone number. You waved before running off to your next class, feeling happy that you had made a new friend. (haha friend…)

Meanwhile, Josie was losing her mind. 

“PJ, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“This is absolutely perfect!” 

“No, it’s not, PJ— we don’t have a feminist women’s self-defense fight club. You also don’t care about feminism. Your favorite movie is Entourage.” 

“Okay, first of all, shut up, and second, we can just make the club now, obviously. Come on– I just created the perfect opportunity for all of us to talk to Brittany, Isabel, and (Y/N)!” 

“Hazel, please tell PJ that she’s insane,” Josie turned to Hazel. 

Hazel grinned and said; 

“She gave me her number.” 

Josie groaned. “Congratulations! But we have a bigger problem now. We don’t know how to defend ourselves!” 

“Self-defense is common sense. You try to punch me in the face. I stop it from happening. Whatever, I don’t care, it’s easy,” PJ shrugged, holding a MMA fighter stance and started throwing air punches. 

“Yeah, maybe for Hazel, who literally has the… spider tingles? Hazel tingles?”

“Please do not start calling it Hazel tingles.” 

“And let’s not forget, you literally have superhuman strength,” Josie cautioned. “If we do this— very big if, we just run the biggest risk of exposing you and your spider identity. One wrong punch and you’ll send a girl to the hospital.”  

PJ turned to Hazel and grabbed her by the shoulders. 

“Hazel, listen to me. We teach a bunch of girls how to defend themselves against the evil high school fuckboys. They are grateful to us. Adrenaline is flowing— next thing you know, Isabel, Brittany, and (Y/N) are kissing us on the mouths!” 

Hazel paused. “I don’t know. Like Josie said, it’s a huge risk. The last thing I’d want to do is put (Y/N) in danger.”

A sardonic smile played on PJ’s lips. She tapped on Hazel’s notebook.

“Hazel, she gave you her number.”

Hazel stood, her mind racing once again. PJ’s idea of starting a self-defense club was dangerous, she knew that. She would be gaining attention all while showing off her fighting skills, which is what she had been hiding for years. Josie’s warning echoed in her mind. But then she remembered the way you had looked at her, with darling concern in your eyes when you asked about her injuries. She hadn’t had anyone worry for her like that in a while. 

Hazel took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Josie cried.

“She said okay! It's an okay! We’re doing this!” PJ screamed, grabbing Hazel’s hand and pulling her towards the school’s office to create the club. “We’re going to lose our virginities this year! This is the year!”

“Okay, but who’s going to be crazy enough to even advise this club?” Josie yelled after them, but the two were long gone.

Next Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

[frankoceanluvrr]

𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

pairing : fem!reader x peter parker, reunited childhood friends to lovers 😫, college!au

warnings : english isn’t my first language, so there could be a couple of grammatical mistakes! plz lmk if u see them! This is so long btw I’m sorry 😭

summary : before he moved away, he gave her a necklace to remember him by. she hasn’t taken it off since.

a/n : you can imagine any peter for this, not specifically tasm i just like the gif -> mj will be included, u can imagine mary or michelle it’s up to you😊 also tysm for 19 followers!!!!!!!!

“Take this,” the young boy sighed, passing the necklace, “it’ll be a reminder of me or whatever. I know I’m not dying or anything but I don’t think we’ll see each other again in person.”

“You really think so?” You sniffled.

“Hey, don’t start crying now you big baby, we can still email and call each other” Peter smiled, nudging your arm.

“You’re the baby, not me, I just had something in my eye.”

“Yeah right [Name], you’re like totally miserable I’m going.”

“You’re the one who got me the necklace! It’s really pretty by the way, I love it,” You said, “I can’t believe you’re leaving me before high school though”

“Look, just promise me we’ll keep in touch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours, “and even if we don’t, take care of the necklace for me?”

“Promise.”

And you hadn’t seen him since that day. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to keep in touch though, it was just a matter of life getting in the way. You had been good friends ever since you were little kids, you had always felt it was a shame you never got to see each other grow up properly. He never forgot you either.

But let’s not dwell on the past. First day of college and you were a wreck. You had always hated change, and you were nervous going somewhere and not knowing anyone except your extremely antisocial roommate, Mj.

You fiddled with your necklace as you struggled to find the room you were in.

“Um, sorry to bother you, but do you know where Professor Browne would be?” You asked, tapping the tall boy on the shoulder.

He turned around, soft eyes looking down at yours, then to your necklace. He smiled, waiting to see your reaction after seeing your childhood friend after years, only to be met with your polite smile. In your defence, he looked completely different. Being bit by a radioactive spider changes a person, including their physique, but it especially changes them while they’re still growing into their bodies. When you knew Peter, he was around about the same height as you and a little chubby. He was now tall and lean, the only thing that hadn’t changed were his brown eyes.

“It’s just down the hall.” He pointed, directing you toward where you were meant to be.

In reality, he was slightly hurt you didn’t recognise him.

“I’m Peter, by the way.” He said, in hopes you’d remember him by his name.

“I’m [Name], thank you for helping me! It was really nice to meet you, but I really need to get going. Thank you again!” You smiled as you walked off.

He felt the urge to call after you, then it dawned on him you probably forgot about your friendship with him. Which obviously wasn’t true, you just didn’t recognise him, but he kept convincing himself it was because you forgot.

“Wait, Peter?” You turned around, “like the Peter from middle school?”

“Took you long enough to realise.” He laughed.

“Shut up no way! You’re kidding right? You look so different! We really need to catch up, what’s your number?” You said, eyes bright and wide.

“Oh, hitting on me already [Name]?” He smirked playfully.

He ended up giving his number as you hurriedly walked to your class, even though you were barely late.

After your class, you decided to meet up with Peter at a nearby cafe. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were excited regardless.

“Hey,” you smiled sheepishly, “what are the chances, right?”

“Your necklace,” he said, completely ignoring what you said, “you kept it?”

“I promised, remember? It’s beautiful.”

He could only blush at what you said, the fact you kept it after all these years meant so much to him. He remembers the day he picked the necklace for you so vividly, because it was the day he was going to confess his feelings for you. He never did, but he doesn’t regret it since it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, you were both young and he was moving away. Relationship set up for failure.

“How did you even recognise me?” He asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“Your eyes.” you smiled warmly.

“Stop flirting with me, [Name]. I know I’m incredibly handsome and all-”

“You’re still a major geek, by the way.” You cut him off, “biophysics, really? I knew you had a thing for science but wow.”

“Hey! No need for that honestly, we both used to like science” He raised his hands in defence.

“Yeah, used to. Past tense.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

The conversation flowed so easily. It was as if he never left, you talked till cafe closed which was around 10pm.

“Hey, let me walk you to your dorm. I’m sure mine nearby anyway.” He shrugged.

“So chivalrous, Parker. Really, I’m impressed.” You teased, walking beside him, “oh, that totally reminds me, you know spiderman right?”

“Uh, I’ve heard of him before”

“Yeah okay right, you’ve never seen me and him in the same room before,” you started, “I’m definitely him, this is me telling you.”

“Wow, thank you so much [Name] for telling me this massive secret of yours, no idea how you could keep it to yourself honestly.”

“It’s about time I let the whole world know, don’t you think?”

You honestly didn’t mean anything by these comments, you were just joking around, but Peter could feel his heart tighten a bit. He felt like you knew he was Spiderman, which was impossible, but it still worried him.

“Anyways, thanks for dropping me off,” you smiled, “it was really sweet of you.”

He blushed, but you could barely see because it was so dark.

“Before you go,” He said, grabbing your hand as you turned around, “I just wanted to tell you I really missed you.”

You could feel yourself melt a little, “I missed you too.”

He waited for you to go into your dorm as you waved goodbye. His dorm was actually on the other side of campus, he just wanted to walk you.

He spent the whole night thinking about you, how pretty you’d become, how you were still kind. He could feel himself falling for you again already, your energy was just so attractive to him.

Chapter (?) 2 : Late Night Calls

It had been months since you guys had reunited, and you had grown closer than before. It was about 2am and you were still studying. You could feel yourself drowning in what felt like millions of topics, constantly feeling the need to check your phone. You had texted Peter and he hadn’t replied, so throwing yourself into your work was apparently the best option. You liked him so much. It felt silly to have such a big crush on him, but he treated you so well.

While you were studying, Peter was out on night patrol. Balancing education and heroism was always difficult, it left him feeling so overwhelmed he’d shut people out. During night patrol, he’d gotten into a pretty bad fight. He found himself swinging to campus, more specifically your dorm.

Your phone buzzed.

Incoming call..

You answered, squinting at the bright light coming from the device, “Hello?”

“[Name]? I’m so sorry to bother you, but can I come over?” His voice rushed and breathless.

You sat up, feeling way more awake, “Is everything okay? What’s happened? Are you out?”

Your questions were interrupted by a soft knock on the window.

Peter had gotten used to the quick clothes changing by now. He left his suit nearby outside, he was 99% sure no one would take it.

You walked to your window to see Peter, but he had several cuts and bruises across his face.

“Oh my God” you gasped under your breath, trying to stay quiet as you opened the window.

He came through the window as you sat him on your bed.

“Just stay here,” you whispered, “there’s a first aid kit in the other room.”

You came back with the first aid kit and began to help him, no questions asked yet.

“Thank you,” his voice inaudible, “I mean it, you’re so sweet [Name].”

“How did you get to the window?” You asked, placing a bandage on his head.

“Uh, adrenaline?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “what happened?”

He sighed, avoiding eye contact with you. Was he really about to tell you his secret?

“I’m Spiderman.”

“What?” You said, forgetting all about mj sleeping in the other room.

You quickly brought a hand to your mouth, eyes still wide.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a shock, I just haven’t told anyone before.” He started, “but um, I have something else to tell you.”

He reached for your hands, squeezing them slightly, “I really like you, [Name].”

Your eyes were practically about to pop out your head.

“You’re joking right?” You chuckled sheepishly.

“No, Im serious [Name]. I love everything about you. I love your smile, your laugh. God I love your laugh.”

Your brain was trying to process all of this without making too much of a scene.

Your hands reached for his cheek, “Can I?”

He answered your question by planting a soft kiss on your lips, smiling into it.

You pulled away, “I really like you too, Parker.”

All he could do was blush.

“I cant believe you’re Spiderman, though. I have a million questions.” You laughed.

“Shoot.”

a/n : so sorry this is so rushed 😭 i just wanted to finish it idk why this has taken me SO long to write

#marvel x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #marvel x you #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman x you #fluff #friends to lovers #peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #college au #college!peter parker

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

hi are your rqs open? if not feel free to delete this but I love your writing and was wondering if you could do will solace x platonic!fem!aphrodite kid!reader childhood friends type thing? (that's a lot of "!" s lol) like they both came to camp at the same time and have been friends since they were both in the Hermes cabin and are still besties? like I can imagine reader and will teaming up to make fun of Nico (affectionately)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ platonic! will solace x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs

content: platonic! will solace x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs warning: language i believe???? this ones jsut silly goofy author's note: I FEEL SO BAD THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH IM SO SORRY I JUST- THERE WAS A LOT OF PRESSURE I FELT- YA KNOW??? IDK IDK HOPE YOU LIKE IT, IF NOT I TOTALLY AGREE LETS BURN IT TOGETHER-

it was will's first day at camp and he was already missing his mom

just like this deep and unstoppable want for his mom

so he was being mopey and staying away from everyone, even though he wanted to make friends and have fun, he just couldn't bring himself to do so

until he met you

you were bubbly and insistent

and annoying

but, you managed to pull will out of his slump

you were also staying in the hermes cabin, unclaimed as can be

"do you think i could catch this grape?" you asked with a wide smile

"no way," will insisted, pretending to put on a scowl

you did catch it, crushing the grape between your teeth with a wide smile before holding your perfected manicured hand out to him

"i'm y/n. you?"

"will."

that shake of hands was the start of something beautiful

beautifully annoying

you two bounce off of each other, radioactively

like annoyingly fun sunshine characters x2 fr

and then will got claimed by apollo

he'd be helping put band aids on little kids when it happened

obviously he was met with loud cheers from the apollo cabin and feasts in his name or whatever

but he couldn't shake the look on your face when you thought he wasn't looking

just pure self doubt, unsure if it would ever be you in that situation

from that day forwards, will was determined to never see you look like that again

naturally, you guys tried seeking out your godly parent through doing things to see what you were naturally good at but all the tests held no water

after a few weeks, you waved will off, arguing that you were fine and that the hermes cabin was nice

which was a blatant lie, as that place was so packed and you didn't even have a bed

but, as much as will tried to argue, you shot him down every time

then, one evening, you and will were sitting around the campfire, a burnt marshmallow hanging off your stick, but that's the way you preferred them

you were raving on and on about some son of ares before turning to will, a soft and slightly teasing smile on your lips

"what about you, any girls caught your eye?"

"yeah, i guess," will replied, half heartedly, slightly turning away

you watched him for a moment before setting your stick down and grasping will's hands, pulling them into your own and forcing the boy to look into your eyes

"will."

"y/n."

"...have any guys caught your eye?"

"...maybe."

"omg, which ones?!" you instantly gushed, smiling brightly at him and giving his hands a squeeze

will listed a few but he quickly realized they didn't matter anymore, none of it did

it mattered to him how quickly you were to accept him, how quickly you were to share the love

and also, the hot pink dove floating above your head kinda drew his attention away

you barely noticed, yapping about whether or not you thought the guys will listed off were gay or not

when it finally did catch your eye, you nearly cried, squeezing your eyes shut with a wide smile before turning to will, tightening your hold on his hands

"thank you."

"why are you thanking me?"

"i don't think i've loved anyone like i love you, stupid. clearly, my mom noticed that."

CRYING WTF

anyways moving on to the torture of nico di angelo

you literally played matchmaker for MONTHS trying to get nico and will together, only for them to ALREADY BE DATING

will felt so bad keeping it from you (but also he was having fun being sneaky)

dont worry, he makes it up to you by having you be his best lady at his and nico's wedding

i just know that wedding speech goes crazy, laughing one sec, crying the next

hot take, i think children of aphrodite will just naturally take a shine to public speaking, i just think that's something they'd be good at

now, you and will had a weekly self care day, which you've been doing for YEARS

the whole nine yards, im meaning, face masks, foot masks, gua sha-ing, click flicks, orange juice and apple juice in fancy glasses

so, when nico and will started dating, you offered for nico to come for one of them, beaming a smile at the gloomy boy

he agreed to be there but outright refused to do any of the stuff

he kept coming back and week by week he started doing more until he had a face mask on and pomegranate juice in a wine glass, yelling at reality tv louder than you and will combined

at first, nico wasn't exactly your biggest fan

he would always say you took away will time or you were just too bubbly for your own good

but in reality, you reminded him too much of bianca

you tried your best to take care of him and will, always had snacks in your purse and band aids in your pockets

you were sweet and kind and it hit nico right in the chest

and you could tell, ever intuitive to people's feelings, so you pulled back and let nico figure it out for himself

in his own time, he warmed up to you, a while you still laugh in the same bianca did and sometimes you wrinkle your nose just like she used to, now he can look it with a fondness rather than guilt

and will was overjoyed when they were starting to connect

ummm his best friend and his boyfriend being besties??? yes pls

both you and nico fight for the great cause of Will Solace Getting Eight Hours Of Sleep agenda

constantly dragging that boy out of the infirmary together, each looping one arm

those are the days that will regrets that you guys are such good friends, kicking and screaming to get back to the infirmary

OH OH OH and you and will get mistaken as a couple all the time bc daughter of aphrodite things and you guys just progressively more funny with your responses.

"ewwwww that's my uncle grossssss."

"this chick?? she's not my girlfriend! i bought her off of ebay for a nickel, please."

"boyfriend?? bro, i'm a nun, wtf??"

"girlfriend?? bro, i'm a priest, wtf??"

the person always walks away feeling very confused while you two turn into a puddle of laughs on the ground.

all in all, you and will are a silly goofy pair that have your mushy gushy moments

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #will solace #nico di angelo

[another-lost-mc]

dessert first | solomon x gn!reader

cw: sfw. fluff and humor with some suggestiveness. descriptions of food and cooking. wc: 0.7k+

If cooking is a love language, then Solomon is convinced that no one can cook more delicious, heart-warming food for you than he can.

He doesn’t notice your apprehension whenever he brings a steaming plate of something to the table. You bought him an apron as a gag gift once ("HOT STUFF CUMIN THRU"), and it's splattered in what can only be described as radioactive waste with it's odd colour and pungent smell.

You're relieved - barely - that the food can't be too acidic, since there's no holes burned through the apron's delicate fabric yet.

(You know Solomon loves that silly apron you gave him. Barbatos told him how to remove even the most stubborn biohazardous material - err, food stains - from it. You know later that Solomon will hum happily when he prepares it for the laundry, and when it's clean he'll fold it and tuck it away safely for next time. He always wears it when he cooks for you.)

Since you’ve known him, and especially since you started dating, you’ve pondered one question: is Solomon completely oblivious to your reactions when he cooks, or is he completely sadistic?

Sometimes your eyes water when he makes something that's far too sour. He holds a hand over his heart and says how happy he is that you're so moved by his cooking that it would bring you to tears. You let him brush away the stray tears with his thumb and kiss your cheeks - it's the least he can do.

Sometimes you clamp your mouth shut and try not to shudder as sharp, searing pains ravage your stomach. He's flattered that you're rendered speechless by his creation - and did you know that he modified the recipe specifically for you? He beams at you from his seat across the table while you try to focus on his words and distract yourself from the agony tearing your insides apart.

Later you mention as casually as you can that you'd like to lay down for a while. He tucks into the space behind you on the couch and hums in your ear while you nap - or pass out, you're honestly not sure which.

Today, you expect the same as all the meals he’s made for you before. He takes off his apron and sets it aside to wash later. Your steely resolve melts just a little because he treats it so gently, like it's more than just a common apron to him (because it is).

You look at his culinary offering today, some sort of stew the colour of burnt orange with hints of purple. It bubbles menacingly in the serving dish he places on the table. You scoop a small amount into your bowl - you try not to grimace when he insists that you help yourself - and grab your spoon. He helps himself next, and he's already digging in when you bring a mouthful shakily to your lips.

It doesn't smell too bad up close, and you can pick out the familiar scent of the unique blend of herbs and spiced he used. The first mouthful goes down easily, surprisingly so, and you chuckle when the tension melts from your body. You expected so much worse.

You're helping yourself to your fourth spoonful, more generous than the others before, when the delayed reaction hits you. Your throat closes in protest and you spit out the soup. Solomon's shirt is covered in it.

It feels like time freezes as embarrassment and horror flood through you. There's a dribble of soup running down your lip, and the spoon clatters loudly when it drops on the table.

Solomon looks stunned by your reaction.

You wipe your mouth with a napkin and try to sputter apologies and clean up the mess, and—why is he standing up and taking off his clothes?

You gape at him while he strips off his shirt and lets it drop in a heap on the floor beside his chair; you're distracted by the unexpected sight of his bare chest.

He sighs dramatically with his hands on his hips, and instead of seeing hurt or anger in his eyes, they twinkle with something like mischievous delight.

"Oh, darling," he teases you, slowly unbuckling his belt. "There's no need to waste food like that. If you wanted to have dessert first, all you had to do was ask."

read more: solomon masterlist | obey me! masterlist

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader #tw food

[asimplearchivist]

𝑪𝑯. 𝑰 — 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑵 𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑻𝒀.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ spider-woman of earth 928c is introduced to some unexpected visitors. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 3.1k a/n 🕷️ ⤏ don't mind me, I'm just chasing a plot bunny. ⤏ this version of the rhino is from the spectacular spider-man universe because I’m self-indulgent and that’s still one of my favorite iterations of the character. I am also adlibbing this version of the 2099-verse because I only know what the wiki told me…and it wasn’t a whole lot. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️

Let’s review all this one last time, shall we?

“Hey, Rhino! You’ll have to try a bit harder than that to catch me!”

My name is—well, you already know that, don’t you?

A furious bellow set every hair on your body on edge. You hooked your feet on the lamppost and curled around it just in time to avoid the crushed taxi launched at your direction. The loan office it embedded itself into had been vacated when the scuffle started, thank God, as had the rest of the street’s occupants. You could hear police sirens several blocks over, trying to navigate the destruction the brute beast had left in his wake. You’d been trying to tire him out in the harsh summer sunlight—just as you had a couple of years prior.

I got bitten by an enhanced radioactive spider, and for the last five years, I’ve been the one—and only—Spider-Woman.

“You’ve really got to work on your aim, O’Hirn, I don’t know what to tell you,” you chided lightly, webbing the taxi and jumping down to swing it back at him. The metal husk caught him right in the chest, managing to knock him flat on his armored ass. “You’ve gotten a bit rusty since I last saw you.”

I’m sure you know the rest—I’ve saved countless people in Nueva York and have kept it intact. (Mostly.)

“I—don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” he snarled, peeling himself out of the vehicle. “I never seen you before—d’you replace Spider-Man or somethin’?”

I lost my husband in a freak accident, I barely manage to keep my small business open, and sometimes I want for nothing more than to burn this suit and walk away from it all.

You raised a brow under your mask. “I’m afraid I’m the only resident web-slinger in this neck of the woods. Did you get your head bashed a little too hard while in the slammer?”

But I’ve learned that no matter how many times I get knocked down, shot at, blown up, stabbed, punched, kicked—you name it—I have to get up. Always.

The Rhino roared instead of opting to give a comprehensive answer to further the conversation, and you narrowly avoided getting impaled on his horn when he lunged. Latching onto the awning of the hotel across the street, you swung wide and squinted down at the mercenary as his momentum carried him directly into the rubble of the obliterated loan office.

I genuinely thought that I had seen it all: science experiments gone horribly wrong, villains of the week that would give horror writers a run for their money...weird-ass situations all around, and I’m weird.

Something…wasn’t right. Your spider sense had been ringing off the chart since he’d first galloped through the wall of your pharmacy demanding a fight—it was persistent and loud enough that it had given you a splitting headache by now. It hadn’t reacted this badly in several years, and you’d care not to think about the circumstances surrounding the last occasion.

But this…certainly took the cake.

This guy…wasn’t the Rhino you’d fought. You hadn’t even heard anything about the prison he’d been sent to being destroyed, or any of the inmates having made a miraculous escape, for that matter. He sounded different, acted different, looked different…not to mention the fact that this…imposter, or whoever he was, had a far more rudimentary armor than that of the first. It looked like a solid compound of some sort bound to his skin, rather than faulty nano-particles that had malfunctioned and locked themselves out of control at the time of its first reckless experimentation.

You’d know that better than anyone. Alchemax had been nothing but a source of perpetual pains in your ass ever since your husband died, the higher-ups far too hungry for imitation superhumans from a century prior to exercise caution or reason. They’d stop at nothing to get what they wanted, the common people they inevitably harmed be damned.

As the crumbling cinderblocks settled, you slipped down and landed lightly on the cracked sidewalk. You lamented the property damage of the entire block just as much as the fact that you were going to have to use your preferred pharmacy’s sister branch, all the way on the other side of the Hudson, and they always took days to refill your prescriptions even after you received the automated alert.

Computers. Damned with them, damned without them.

“Hey, O’Hirn?” you called into the cloud of dust slowly clearing in the mild breeze. “I don’t suppose you did my job for me and knocked yourself out, huh?”

This time, he charged without a sound. You tried to jump away with a yelp, your instincts screeching like a banshee, but his massive fist caught your ankle and slammed you down into the asphalt hard enough to crater around your frame. Winded, you only just caught his heel with both hands before he drove it directly into your chest cavity—you groaned with the strain of keeping his weight at bay, arms trembling with effort. You gasped for breath, eyes searching out his face despite the tears welling in your eyes (because damn that hurt), and twisted your wrist just enough to utilize the spinneret on the top of your wrist instead of in the bottom. The sickly sweet-smelling web nailed him right in the eye.

He stumbled back with a muffled shout, the silk having netted his entire head from the impact. You rolled out of the asphalt angel memorializing your clumsiness and away from his stomping feet, coughing and doing your best to ignore the pain lingering in your back and ribs.

“Got me there,” you wheezed, struggling to your feet. “Now I’m not going to play nice.”

“The hell is this stuff?” he shouted, finally tearing the object of offense free. “It reeks!”

“Something to help put you down for a nap,” you sighed, already threading the nearest dislodged fire hydrant. You waited in a tense crouch until he whirled on you and lowered his head to clock him in the knee.

He shook the ground when he dropped, howling while clutching the dislocated joint. Letting the hydrant loop over your head, you brought it harshly down on the opposite shoulder to incapacitate him further.

The ground swayed abruptly, and you staggered sidewise to keep from stumbling. The Rhino, despite his obvious agony, flashed you a shit-eating grin.

“Didn’t think about that, did’ya?” he goaded, before rearing his good fist back and driving it into the gaping crack in the concrete.

That entire section of the street caved into the sewer system below, and O’Hirn grabbed your ankle once more to drag you with him.

Rubble and unstable brickwork separated the pair of you, and you struggled to get your bearings even as it pinned you in place under running water (rather than actual sewage, thank God—it had taken months for the smell to leave your suit, even if the UMF had decontamination processes preprogrammed) like the odd little bug you really were.

Heart pounding, you clenched your jaw and shoved at the boulders blocking you in, fruitlessly at first—finally, finally they gave, and you surfaced with a ragged inhale.

Your entire body ached. You were going to have to deal with Alchemax soon, you really were, because your health insurance was definitely not going to cover a visit to the ER—your improved healing would still take a while to fix it, even if you were to gorge yourself like usual.

“Just be glad for no broken bones,” you muttered, peering up into the hazy sunlight streaming into the chasm Rhino had created. “Those hurt like a bitch.”

“I think I can help with that.”

You whipped around. “Oh, for the love of—”

Rhino’s fist nearly took your jaw clean off your skull with a dizzying roundhouse that sent you flying into what remained of the sewer’s wall. You collapsed on the service walk, biting your lip fiercely to keep the bubbling whimper firmly lodged in your chest. “Fuck, man, you couldn’t stand to be a gentleman, could you? That’s my good si—”

He cut off your tirade by clamping his fist around the back of your neck, dragging you into open air and glaring down his crooked nose at you.

Were you imagining things or was he…shaped differently than a normal person? Not even being a supervillain, he just…looked weird. Like, really weird.

Or…maybe it had to do with the fact that his fingers easily reached around to the front of your throat and were now squeezing hard enough to block your airway.

“I’ve about had enough of you,” he growled, grimacing as you grappled his arm in an attempt to release his grip. “You superheroes and your smart mouths. If the Big Man ever caught wind of another Spider hangin’ around, he’d blow a gasket.”

You had enough wherewithal to utilize your specialized webs once again, but even though you managed to cover his face again, he snatched your wrists and twisted them to the side to cut off the flow. He snarled and squeezed harder, though a small trickle of relief bypassed the growing panic of suffocating when he stumbled a little. His eyes were going crossed, it was working…

…but not quickly enough. You were fading fast, losing feeling in your fingers and toes, your hands and feet, your arms and legs…your heartbeat thrummed in your ears like a torn war drum, the only sound that followed the dizziness creeping into your consciousness.

Well…you supposed this was it. Definitely not the way you’d imagined going, but…your aunt would feed your cat. There were worse ways to go, certainly—you’d witnessed them firsthand. You just wish that you didn’t feel like such a failure, despite all your countless accomplishments and victories. None of it felt substantial. Not when you had failed to protect those most important to you.

Not when you’d lost your husband. Not when it should have been you.

Your body fell limp. You made one last effort to turn your head and bite the heel of the Rhino’s palm, but he only knocked the back of your head against the wall. You hardly felt it, really, only hearing your tapering pulse and the wailing ring of your spider sense.

“Fuck you,” you tried to rasp, but with no air to speak you only mouthed the words.

The Rhino had the audacity to laugh at that, glittering dark eyes eagerly watching yours steadily glaze over. He reached towards your chin, where he would find the seam of your mask.

Through darkening, blurry vision, you watched a maelstrom of crimson and gold bloom like an aurora over the Rhino’s massive shoulder, illuminating the damp maze of broken rock like neon on a rainy night. Your eyes drifted shut of their own accord as a shape sprinted forth from the vortex at breakneck speed. You hadn’t figured the afterlife would herald a six-foot bodybuilder in blue spandex, but, hey—who were you to complain about witnessing the epitome of masculinity at the time of death?

Listless, you barely recognized being dropped. You didn’t even realize the pressure had been released from your windpipe until your instincts kicked into overdrive. You inhaled so suddenly and so harshly, the burn was what startled you back into lucidity.

Sucking in precious oxygen, you propped your arms beneath your chest and lifted your impossibly heavy, throbbing head to stare in utter rapture as you witnessed what you’d accepted as a hallucination of the peak male figure proceed to kick Alexander O’Hirn’s ass into next week.

“What the hell?” you croaked, sagging into the floor.

The stranger was…lethal, really. Every punch and kick was delivered with frightening force and deadly accuracy. It wasn’t until he backflipped to avoid impalement into the sunlight that you saw the cross between a spider and skull motif caressing his rippling physique. Him then twisting his hands down and launching luminescent red threads to trip the beast mid-lunge only confused you further.

“You ready for the containment field?” called a second stranger—a woman this time—standing propped against an honest-to-God motorcycle in the mouth of the vortex.

The Rhino grabbed the webs and yanked hard. The man, to his credit, didn’t yelp as he was pulled off his feet and towards O’Hirn’s brandished horn.

You reacted before you could think.

Your web coiled around his midsection, and your braking pull slowed his momentum just enough to give him time to lift his foot and dig his heel into the Rhino’s left eye. They both careened into the heap of rubble and under the water.

You scrambled onto your feet, limping to the edge of the walk to peer into the murky depths. You were about to speak to the woman on the opposite side because you wanted to know exactly what in the actual hell that thing was, who they were, and why the hell were they both copying your design when the surface broke into a shower of droplets that speckled your suit. The man tumbled into a heap at your feet, dripping and coughing.

“I’d thank you for your help,” you panted in spite of your sore throat, “but I don’t think he’s down for the count quite yet.”

His head snapped towards you, and you saw the crimson frames surrounding the lenses of his own mask widen. He lurched upright, taking a full step away from you as though you’d tried to bite him. He towered over you easily, well over six foot (even past half?), and his musculature more than emphasized it.

“Hey, no hard feelings or anything, I appreciate the hand,” you said, raising placating palms to him. “I almost kicked the bucket back there, so I owe you—”

He whirled just as the Rhino surfaced from the deep, roaring in fury. His nose was bleeding profusely, but not from his nostrils—was that a bite mark across the bridge?

“Get back and let us handle it!” the man in the midnight suit snarled suddenly, and your heart stuttered.

Your mouth fell open as he launched himself forward, leaving gauges in the concrete where his feet had been planted. You watched, frozen and speechless, as he latched onto O’Hirn’s shoulders and spun him into a glowing red shibari presentation in less than ten seconds. The Rhino lost his footing and collapsed back into the water, though into the shallows. The woman tossed the man a device, and it bloomed into a forcefield that swallowed their fallen prey in a humming yellow cocoon.

“Oh.” You blinked, shut your mouth, and swallowed. “Wow. I need one of those.”

The stranger ignored you, stooping down and hefting the Rhino over his shoulder like he weighed a sack of potatoes.

You blinked rapidly before following his sloshing lumber across the canal. “Wait, wait a second, aren’t you going to—”

“We’ll take it from here, baby,” said the woman lightly, gesturing to the beast who had, oddly enough, fallen into a stiff stasis. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried about it,” you responded tersely, “because that is definitely not the Rhino of my world, you two are just as out of place as he is, and that looks an awful lot like a wormhole that is somehow not causing the known universe to collapse in on itself. Can I please get an explanation, since you both seem perfectly calm?”

The man growled under his breath, shaking his head, while the woman arched an appraising brow at him.

“That’s classified,” he ground out through gritted teeth, and your heart squeezed once more.

“Do either of you work for Alchemax?” you demanded hotly, skin pricking with agitation. “Because if this is another one of their freakshow experiments gone wrong, I am going to blow that place sky high, I swear—”

“We don’t work for Alchemax,” she soothed. She cast another glance at her cohort, eyes narrowing, before she refocused on you with a much kinder expression. “And we definitely have no other intention than getting this big guy back to where he belongs. We’re not your enemies.”

“Just leave it alone, Jess,” hissed the man in blue, resuming his steady pace towards the glowing, shifting maw of raw power. “We need to get back before the toxin wheres off.”

You couldn’t take that nagging feeling anymore.

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” you snapped, hoping the indignation in your voice disguised the fact that your throat was unbearably tight and a persistent sting blurred your sight. “You can’t just—”

He didn’t stop moving, didn’t even turn to face you—not really—just tilted his head to the side enough to regard you with disdain from the edge of his peripheral. You couldn’t see it, of course, nor his expression, but the disapproving drawl of his single-worded reply was enough—more than enough, and you realized that it sounded familiar. “No.”

“Wait, please!” you tried, (begged, more like, much to your chagrin—you hated it when your voice cracked), taking a step forward and trying to decide whether it was worth the risk to web him immobile after his rather impressive (and aggressive) display. “Miguel?”

The imposing figure went stock-still mid-step.

Your breath caught, your suddenly buoyant heart lodging itself firmly in the pit of your throat. He sagged in on himself for a moment, a deep, shaky inhale emphasizing the sheer mass of him—easily thrice your mass—and his ragged exhale was the only indication of weariness you’d observed thus far.

“It would be best,” he enunciated thickly, almost garbled, as though he spoke around a mouthful of gravel, “if you forgot about this encounter altogether, in the long run.”

All you were able to absorb in that split second before he stepped through the contorting portal and disappeared were the splashes of golden light accenting the sharp angle of his cheek and jawline, as well as the subtlest suggestion of a deeply furrowed brow beneath the glimmering material comprising his mask and suit alike—just like yours.

The other woman regarded you for a long moment, something like sympathy clear on her unguarded, unconcealed face. You opened your mouth to entreat her, likewise, desperate for answers when the former stranger had so blatantly refused explanation, but she merely shook her head slowly, reminding you of a gentle, maternal refusal. She, too, wheeled her bike into the portal and flickered out of view.

Then, inevitably, the portal itself dissipated into nothingness within the blink of an eye, as though you’d been hallucinating the entire thing. The tunnel was plunged into total darkness, save the wall of sunlight behind you.

You dropped to your knees, your chin sank into your sternum, and the particles of your mask receded so you could cradle your face in your hands. Hot, embittered tears dripped from your nose and splattered against the concrete, only the faintest suggestions of discoloration in your distorted vision.

Just like that, he was gone.

Again.

#fanfiction #reader insert #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara/reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse #fisara's codices #miguel o'hara x reader #mine #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spider man: across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #atsv

[comiicii]

Hummingbird

Backdrop: You and Miles have been best friends since you were babies. Doesn't mean that the friendship never faced some hardships. Pairing: e1610!Miles Morales x fem!spider!reader | e!1610 peter parker x platonic!reader Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors. A's notes: This is going to be a series that spans both Spider-verse movies. This first chapter is mainly word vomit, laying the foundation for the next chapter. Reader is a spider-person in the story and her powers/suit are that of Aña Corazon. Word count: 2k

You and Miles hadn’t always been joined at the hip. You two had grown up together on the same block which meant your families were close. You both also attended Brooklyn Visions Academy. There was a rough patch you two went through before attending the school. It lasted about two years. Two years of hang outs cut short, excuses and apologies (from you). Thinking back on it, those two years were the absolute worst.

The reason those two years were a rough patch in your friendship with Miles was because you got bit by a radioactive spider and became your universe’s Spider-Girl. Your actual spider name was Araña but the news didn’t care - you were a menace to some like J. Jonah Jameson and Spider Girl sorta stuck.

You were 12 when that happened. There was already a Spider Man, Peter Parker but he gladly took you under his wing. He didn’t mind showing you the ropes. Your powers slightly varied from his. Besides the usual super strength, heightened senses, and all the general arachnid powers, you got the extra boost of organic webbing and camouflage (which you would later teach Miles how to control). Peter did his best to help you. You had grown fond of the mentor that you would later think of as an extension of your family. Peter had started out incredibly protective of you (newsflash, he never stopped being protective). You were 12 for crying out loud! He wasn’t going to throw you into the dangerous streets of New York to figure it all out. He saw how scared you were of your new found powers and what it meant for your future. He made it clear to you from the beginning that your life was never going to be normal or easy moving forward. He didn’t want to lie to you because while being a superhero looked like a lot of fun, it wasn’t always the case. Sacrifices would have to be made in your life for the sake of your anonymity and your loved ones’ safety.

After you got the hang of your basic spider powers (aka about two months), Peter started taking you on patrol with him. He barely let you be near a criminal. After months of patrolling and begging Peter to give you a chance, he let you have an ‘easy’ criminal. You had spent those months prior working out your suit. It differed from Peters iconic style which you admired but you wanted to stand out as your own. You had gone with a different color scheme; opting for black and white to keep it simple. Your insignia was white and was the statement of your suit, looking as if a big white spider was hugging your body. Your mask was something else that vastly differed from Peter’s. Normally, the point of a mask was to make sure your whole face was covered. Never being the type to go the conventional route, your mask covered your eyes, the top and side portions of your face. Besides, your e/c eyes were your most defining feature. Your mask went up to your hairline where it stopped so your hair was flowing in a pony of sorts. Your nose, mouth and ears visible. You had prototypes in which you did have a traditional mask like Peter’s but it was way too constricting and truthfully, you felt claustrophobic in the damn thing. Plus, you had added a heads up display into the mask so as to take calls from your family as well as being able to see in different spectrums of light. You were always tweaking the tech in your mask to add some new feature if you felt it made your superhero life slightly easier.

While Peter knew you could hold your own, he still kept a tight leash on you. While he told you life was going to be hard moving forward, he still wanted you to live your life. He didn’t want you to feel the weight of the world on your shoulders as you were still a kid. As he put it, he wanted you to savor the moments while you still had the opportunity to do so. To experience the things that define your childhood and build relationships that would balance out the hectic and soon to be somber life that came with being a Spider. You had confided in Peter about your friend, Miles. A friend you had drifted from since gaining your powers. Peter had told you that your loved ones would essentially need to be kept at arm’s length because they could possibly be used as leverage by enemies. The thought of your family or friends being caught up in all of it scared you and so you started distancing yourself from them. Your family didn’t get suspicious as they chalked it up to puberty hitting you hard. Peter could see first hand how much it hurt you to lie about such a big part of yourself to Miles, though. He knew your friendship would hit a bump as you tried to balance your hero and normal life.

Miles was different. You had loved the boy deeply. It wasn’t romantic. It was genuine, unconditional love between the two of you. Having grown up together made it easy to say ‘I love you’ and the bond the two of you shared over music and art was deeper than anything you had shared with anyone else. It hurt you when he had that concerned look on his face when he noticed a shift in your demeanor towards him. He was the first person to notice that you weren’t being yourself. That you were lost in something - he just couldn’t know what that was. You had tried to gradually distance yourself from him but it was hard. You two would still hang out but since you committed to your superhero life, you helped the city when you could - even if it meant sacrificing some precious moments with him. You were late to most of your hangouts. You were constantly coming up with half ass excuses and apologizing to him as to why you were late. You hated the look he got on his face every time you showed up late or blurted out an excuse. It hurt him and it didn’t make sense to Miles. He didn’t want to think you were outgrowing him as a friend.

“I’m sorry Miles. Got caught up with…homework.” You winced as you met his eyes.

He knew you were lying. He knew very well that the words coming out of your mouth were absolute bullshit. Your wincing was also cause you got into it with the bad guy of the week and didn’t necessarily walk away scotch free (which Peter scolded you about like the big brother he was).

“It’s alright. I know your family is just as hard on you about school like mine”

He always understood. That was the problem. He didn’t want to lose you so he accepted that whatever was going on with you, it didn’t involve him. He came to terms that maybe whatever you were going through, you wanted to do on your own. He knew you were stubborn like that. He just hoped that you would find your way back to him. His mom had told him that it happens in friendships. Some dissipate while others come back to you after straying for a moment.

As your friendship with Miles suffered the first year of getting your powers, you got the hang of your powers and helped out Peter whenever you could. You started small and as time passed, you showed Peter how valuable you were as a partner in this world. Sure, you had your fair share of mistakes, you were still a kid after all, but you learned from them and always got back up. That’s something you quickly picked up on about being a Spider - you always got back up.

Peter would always let you know if he could handle things on his own or if he was chasing down a lead that left you alone to patrol for a short period of time. Again, he tried to give you time off so you could be a kid. He didn’t mind the company but it was hard for him to see someone so young be thrown into his world. You appreciated the sweet moments you shared with Peter and always smiled when he sent you a text saying to enjoy your Friday night with friends and family because it was a quiet night in Brooklyn.

“Hey Pete?” you broke the comfortable silence you were sharing atop a deli the pair of you frequented on relatively quiet nights of patrolling. He had grabbed a sandwich for the two of you to split.

“Hm?” He hummed as took a bite of his sandwich.

“Thank you,”

“What for, arañita?” his Spanish wasn’t perfect but you loved that he tried and used the spider name you gave yourself.

“For y’know…taking me under your wing” you started, looking to your mentor with genuine love and admiration. “I know it wasn’t easy having to take me on” you chuckled as you bumped your relatively small knee with his bigger one.

“Hey now, where’s this coming from?” He softly knocked your knee in return as he faced you, worried that you were going through something.

“Nowhere! Can’t your awesome spider-pupil tell you she appreciates you without there being an ulterior motive?” you laughed as you took a bite of your sandwich.

At that, he had a smug grin which earned him a slightly harder bump from your knee to his.

“I don’t know…you usually butter me up before asking for something.”

“Well, this isn’t one of those times.” you laugh once more as you look out to the bustling skyline of New York and continue eating your sandwich with pure bliss.

Those were the moments you savored with Peter.

As the months rolled into a year, you oh so slowly began to almost successfully balance your hero and normal life. Your grades had slipped slightly when you got bit but they were on the up and up. Your friendship with Miles was very clearly hanging by a thread. Miles didn’t reach out to you as much and there were more moments of awkward silence between the two of you than you would’ve liked. It wasn’t normal for the two of you to not talk about something. You wanted to let him into your world. So badly. You knew that he would be happy for you and support you like the amazing friend he was. He wouldn’t tell you to quit, he’d tell you to keep going and keep fighting. He probably would help you with upgrading your suit. You hated that you couldn’t share that part of your life with him. It would put him at risk of being used against you. You didn’t want him to be used as some pawn in a villain’s eyes to get to you. Peter could see the toll the secrecy was having on you and tried his best to keep your mind off it if conversations trailed to that territory. It wasn’t like you hadn’t breached the subject of the new ‘Spider-Girl’ to him, though. You brought it up once to gauge his reaction to the whole idea.

“What do you make of the new Spider-Girl swinging around with Spider-man?” You mindlessly asked while scrolling through your phone as a distraction from the studying you and Miles were supposed to be doing.

“Mm, thought she went by Araña?…but not bad, I guess?” he answered, his eyes not leaving his notebook that had his class notes, waiting for his brain to actually absorb the information on the page.

A flutter of your heart. He knows your actual spider name!

“Her suit looks pretty cool..” you nonchalantly commented, your eyes quickly looking to him for a reaction.

“Does look cool with the black and white,” he smiled, his pencil now aimlessly doodling on the margins of his notes. “I think Spider-man’s training her ‘cause maybe he’s getting old…probably wants to hand the reigns to someone younger.” he continued.

“Think she’ll be good at it?”

“Oh yeah.”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales imagine #e!1610 miles x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse imagine #across the spiderverse imagine #atsv imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

[killerpancakeburger]

Bloody nose part 2 // Miguel O' Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: You started a fight with Miguel O'hara. Now you're trying to end it.

Warnings: Canon violence, swearing.

Tags: Comedy, action, BAMF! Reader, slow burn, (Miguel needs character development).

Words: 1236 words.

Part 1.

Naomi catches your arm to stop you from doing more.

“Wait! Don’t fight with him!”

“Why not!” You yell, your senses itching for a beating.

“He’s not alone! He has an army of thousands of spider-people.”

“Ah.”

It has the virtue of making you stop in your tracks. As much as you consider yourself nearly invincible on your best days, fighting thousands at once is out of your abilities.

Nonetheless, Miguel seems intend on fighting you, as a bunch of what you guess must be spiderwebs, shouts out of the cloud of dust created by the damaged buildings and tie your forearms together. The perspective of being tied doesn’t worry you as your strength has always made quick work of anything trying to restrain you, but their red glow makes you uneasy. Are they radioactive or something?

You easily break out of your bounds with a little show of force, just in time to see a red and dark blue blur charging at you. You wait until the last second to let yourself fall on your back on purpose, using his own momentum against him, and throw him behind you. You’re only halfway on your feet that he’s already coming back for more.

You avoid a few punches and kicks. As you try to figure out a way to neutralize him without hurting him too much, he tackles you before opening his mouth wide and bare what are undoubtedly fangs at you.

You goggle at him in horror as he tries to fucking bite you.

“What the FUCK! Are you feral! Do you need a rabies shot!”

“Stop… moving.” He replies. “It’ll all be… over soon.”

You’re so bewildered you stupidly try to squirm your way out of his hold, before doing the only thing that came to your mind to avoid having this fangs anywhere closer to your face: you shove your hand in his mouth. With one thumb on one side of it and the rest of your fingers on the other, you get a pretty good grip on his jaw.

You see the incomprehension in his eyes as he fails repeatedly to sink his fangs into your hand. You use this second of inattention to kick him in the chest. He falls back a few meters, catching the breath you knocked out of him. By the time he comes back at you, you're back on your feet and ready.

You catch the clawed hands he tried to assault you with, and from here on it’s a draw, with each of you trying to get the upper hand without getting it. What your opponent doesn’t know is that you’re holding yourself back. You could always crush the bones of his hands, but you don’t want to make things worse for yourself and Naomi.

“So? You gonna apologize for throwing a desk at my niece or do I need to throw you in another building?”

“Is it a real apology if you obtained it under duress?” he snorts with disdain.

“I’ll consider it a good start.”

You tighten your hold. He winces and tries to free himself – in vain.

Naomi tries to get involved the discussion, “It wasn’t a big deal! I have super-strength with the other spider powers…”

You knee Miguel in the stomach before releasing him. He falls on knee, holding his stomach in pain.

“Naomi.” You start, using the serious voice you have with her when dispensing life advice. “Whether you have super strength or not doesn’t matter. There is no reason for anyone to throw a desk at you. Do you understand?”

“… Yes.”

You grab Miguel by the collar and rise him above the ground despite your height difference.

“And I will never let anyone, anyone, superheroes included, hurt my family.”

He grabs your forearms in response, his claws trying in vain to break through something else than your leather jacket.

“I will not lose her like I lost her mother. Do you get it, Spiderman?”

You’re looking at him right in eyes. He stares back. You don’t know what you’re expecting to happen. That this pompous, violent, man-child with anger issues has a revelation?

Miguel sighs deeply and looks away.

“Alright. I… I’m sorry I… threw a desk at you, Naomi.”

You drop him like a bag of potatoes, forgetting that his claws are still lodged inside your jacket. You both stumble and fall flat with you on top, swearing.

You barely get the time to pick yourself up on your hands and knees that a suggestive whistle rings out, followed by voices :

“Ooh, are we interrupting something? I think we’re interrupting something, Jess.”

“Peter…”

“Cállate, Peter.” Growls Miguel under you.

Knowing you have a public makes you get up faster than you thought possible.

A Spider-man (?) wearing a raincoat and a tracksuit looks at you with a relaxed smile, while the spider-woman (?) wearing red and black next to him considers you with much more suspicion.

“I called them!” explains Naomi happy that things are settling down.

“I didn’t need back up –“ groans Miguel.

“I panicked…?” she shrugs.

You quickly grab her by the arm and drag her behind you protectively. Great. More Supers to fight if things go south.

“So", starts the one who must be Jess. "What’s going on here? Naomi didn’t take the time to explain anything.”

“All I got was “Quick! Come! No time! Miguel! Trouble!”, adds Peter.

You cross your arms and send them a defiant look.

“Just need you guys to keep your attack dog in line", – You shake your head in Miguel’s direction – "cause the next time he throws a desk at my niece I won’t be so nice.”

“Throw a desk at…", starts Peter, puzzled, before remembering, "Oh ! That time!”

“Jess” gaze goes back and forth between Miguel, covered in bruises and blood trickling from his noise, and you, who doesn’t have a scratch. Not your fault if your skin’s too hard to break.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, “You call that being nice?”

The Peter guy seems to be the only one concerned with damage control. He posts himself between you and them, not hiding how nervous he is, but still raising his hands in each of your directions.

“Alright, alright… There’s no need to aggravate this… Miguel’s the boss so we can’t really keep him in line uh.. Ma’am, but no one will throw desk at Naomi anymore… right, Miguel?”

The two newcomers’ behaviours don’t fix your uneasiness at all. The first seems to be ready to agree to anything Miguel says, and the other, while well-meaning, looks like he has no real power over the decisions made in this… Spider-Society.

“Forget it, Peter. We already came to an agreement.”

“You… you did?” chokes Peter like this is the most incredible thing he’s ever heard, and he must have heard some as a dimensional travelling spiderman. “But you- How-“

“Naomi is quitting the Spider-Society until she’s 18.” Miguel interrupts Peter like it’s his job, not even acknowledging him. “Her aunt will fill in for her until then.”

“Are you sure?” insists Jess, with an eyebrow raised, looking at Miguel like she’s silently asking if he got hit on the head too hard.

“Don’t question me”, he groans, in a kinda sulky way.

He opens a portal, and with one last look for you before jumping in, adds “Just uses Naomi’s gizmo when you’re ready.”

You blink repeatedly on purpose to show you did not understand.

"What... what gizmo?"

But he's already gone.

"He means the watch", reply all at the same time the other spiderperson, with the touch of exasperation that comes from having to repeat the same thing an unholy amount of times.

This will be followed by a chap of the reader integrating the Spider-Society ^^

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman: across the spiderverse #mine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

[zeestarfishalien]

Part 9: Like a Muzzled Hound

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Zatanna has been dead silent for approximately 7 minutes and 40-some seconds since casting a spell allowing her to see Spooky. That’s almost half as long as it took him to convince her that Spooky was here with Jason and not in the cemetery.

Jason decides to give her another full minute before poking her in the shoulder with the end of a training staff.

“Told ya they were here,” he says casually.

“That…This isn’t…they’re not a…” She takes a breath seeming to fortify herself for something. “This is not one of The Black Dogs.” She doesn’t let her gaze stray from Spooky, she barely even blinks her staring is so intense.

“Ooo-kay…” Jason drawls slowly, “so what are they?” Spooky for their part watches Zatanna with half curiosity and half wariness. They seem to be taking their cues from Jason himself. He keeps himself purposefully relaxed just in case that is what is going on.

A strangled noise erupts from Zatanna as she chokes on whatever she’s trying to express. She waves her hand at the comatose spirit.

“I, Ive never…it shouldn’t be possible. Astral Projection is only something for living beings and those like demons and some such.”

“Zee, I’m gonna need a little more info than that,” Jason sighs.

She gestures vaguely in the direction of Spooky and the Spirit (heh, sounds like a shitty band name).

“Your friend here. Spooky?” Jason nods. “Yeah, well Spooky here is an astral projection of the soul of our friend from the coffin. It shouldn’t be possible, a projection of a soul’s manifestation. The form of the spirits of the Infinite Realms should already match what they see themselves as.”

That explains a lot. Especially why Spooky was so desperate to get Jason to dig up that coffin. But that begs another question.

“Why aren’t they back in their regular body and moving around?”

Zatanna worries her lip with her teeth and her thoughtful gaze lands to rest on Spooky.

“You can understand me, right?” Spooky perks up and slowly nods their head without breaking eye contact with the magician.

“Did you have astral projection abilities before you were put in that abomination of a spirit trap?”

Spooky shakes their head no.

“So it’s a new ability…” she says, thinking aloud. “And you were trapped, so there was no reason to wake up… Does it feel like it’s been a long time since you were buried?”

They nod this time, their gaze never leaving Zatanna.

“You don’t know how to go back, do you…”

Spooky nods even though her question sounded more like a statement.

Jason stands straighter and eyes Spooky in a odd sort of calculating way. “Wait…you’re just stuck outside your own body?”

Spooky for their part sort of shuffles in place and doesn’t quite nod or shake their head.

“I’m starting to think Marvel’s theory about hybrids is right,” Zatanna muses under her breath. Her gaze shifts from Spooky to the body on the table and back again.

Finally deciding to break the tense silence, Jason asks, “so, what do we do from here?”

Zatanna has the audacity to shrug (no, it’s not infuriating, just…mildly annoying).

“It’s not a matter of energy levels,” she says thoughtfully. “Spooky here has enough power to awaken and unless there’s some curse or something keeping them down, the only other explanation is that they need time to figure out how to stay within and wake up in their own body.”

Jason eyes her blankly. “A helpful explanation, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m getting there.” She waves him off. “Just staying here should be fine. They’ve clearly developed an attachment to you. It’s just a matter of getting a handle on their new ability. Right Spooky?” She turns to face the shadow dog.

They nod again, their eyes sparkling with determination as they shuffle closer to Jason’s side.

Those radioactive neon green eyes should not be able to look as pitiful as they do right now. Jason can’t help but soften under the hopeful gaze of the spectral dog…or, well spirit? Apparition?

Whatever Spooky may be, it doesn’t much matter to Jason. They’re someone/something that needs help. Besides, something about them is familiar and oddly comforting.

~*~

Jason is pretty sure that Spooky would follow him on his whole route if they could. As it is, they follow him as far as they can go and meet up with him as soon as he is within range again. Zatanna said it’s because they’re tied to their corporeal form. At least that’s what Jason got out of her long winded ramble about how Spooky’s ability “shouldn’t be possible for a spirit” and how, “nothing makes sense Jason.”

He’s startled out of his thoughts by something wet nudging his hand. Spooky is watching Jason carefully as they put first one front foot and then the other on the couch next to him. It takes him a moment to realize that they’re asking his permission.

“Go ahead,” he replies softly. He reads the relief in Spooky’s eyes as they complete their climb onto the seat next to him.

It’s weird how the cushions don’t dip or show any signs of Spooky sitting on them. He understands that they can’t interact with the world, but it’s easy to forget when he’s death adjacent enough to be one of the things Spooky can actually interact with. Their head in his lap is real and tangible, his fingers tangling in the long black fur that’s so soft and silky to the touch.

Jason has a tablet propped up against an ammo box on the coffee table with a cheesy romcom movie playing. It’s more for ambient noise than to watch since Jason is so far in his own head. The female lead is tackling some big DIY bed and breakfast house renovation. There’s a goat that keeps scaring her and every time that happens, Spooky huffs in what Jason imagines is the ghost-dog version of an amused snort.

A nudge against his hand has Jason noticing that he stopped petting Spooky. They wriggle their nose under his hand.

Jason chuckles, resuming with gentle strokes.

Spooky’s gaze finds his and there’s something there…he can’t quite pinpoint what it is but suddenly he’s all too aware that Spooky’s true body and form is on the table, half way across the room. He’s all too aware of how humanoid Spooky is, despite their actions being something an attention seeking dog would do.

The feeling washes over Jason with an eerie chill.

Spooky’s sneeze fractures the moment. All that’s left is Jason, the ghost dog, and the body on the table.

And wow doesn’t that sound like the start of a bad joke?

Jason returns his attention to the cheesy romcom and running his fingers through Spooky’s long silky fur.

First | Previous | Next

Oh hey. Hello there, I am alive. Kinda fell off the mental health bandwagon. Not that I was exactly sitting’ pretty there to begin with. Anywho, I’m still around and I’m still writing. Depression might be kicking my ass seven ways to Sunday but I’m not gonna let that stop me. I’m just slow(lie); been reading instead of writing and bc I haven’t been reading Dc, Dp, or dcxdp I forget I have this. But I’m drafting chaps in my notes now instead of on here so that should help me. No guarantees on when I’ll update but if I think of extra content or if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask away, either in the comments or in my asks, I’ll try to post more in between stuff. The romcom referenced here is called Falling Inn Love (It's on Netflix). Super cheesy and troped up to the gills but entertaining and not completely unbearable.

[Tag List] @emergentpanda-blog @my-perfect-storybook-love @gunebugfic @thegatorsgoose @thewondersoflebanon @bobred18 @d4ydr34min9 @ver-444 @redafi @echoednonny @greenmuffinofdoom @mentalcarebear @fisticuffsatapplebees @vythika96 @writer-extraodinaire @meira-3919 @yjfk @oddlydrawnpuppets @crystalqueertea @lazy-bouqet @darkthunder1589 @mnemovoid @keimiwolf @aarinisreading @love-has-no-labels @terzatheunderscorerima @idkmrpianoman @mur-ururu @chip-thief @kawaiikenna

@rangerhorsetug @treepainting @thatonegirl10 @demiourgias @spooky-fm @antagonisticly @fluffy23sblog @manglethemingle @kyrianclawraith @layyeschips @shepardking @asphyxia778 @ballzfrog @fluffen-spooky @drowningroane @deathsdaisy @malaayna @mistyaltair @potatoeofwisdom @heartsong18 @nixthenerd @icedbluesoul @the-church-grimm @overtherose @sara0055 @banishedthumbs @tired-yet-awaken

@dannyphantomphan @nonbinary-disaster @depressed-bitchy-demon @8-29pm @addie-lover-of-stories @lifefilledwithstories @apointlessbox @skulld3mort-1fan @katgirl05 @spookytragedyshark @mandyne-1001 @ascetic-orange @booklover9114 @qualifiedpasta @mouzerequis @fleeting-mists @gin2212 @rollthatcritical @kaitouhime @itsloveleo @litlecameron @phantom-dc @hippityhoppity-iownyourbones @pastalavistamf @kokoroluna @legowerewolf @riasthelustful @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @mysterimax

@akintoabitch @snowblub @isaactheautobot @jaguarthecat @ventureingonwings

[its been a hot minute since i last posted so i'm sorry if I forgot to tag anyone]

#dp x dc #church grim danny au #the black dog danny #jason todd #dc x dp #danny phantom crossover #dc crossover

[angel-of-the-moons]

OH MY GOD I LOVE YOUR PAVI FUCSS SO LIKE I DECIDED TO TELL YOU MY IDEA WHERE BASSICALY,

Pairing - Younger sibling of Hobie!Reader

- Basically, reader is Hobies younger sibling and both of them were basically accidentally bitten by the same spider and so they both got recruited and since Hobie made friends with Pavi, he decides to introduce reader to Pavi and when they both meet, it was basically love at first sight!!

Omfg Nonnie you genius (a cliche as old as time)!

You Were A Punk, He Did Ballet

Pavitr Prabhakar x Spider Person!Reader (Hobie's Sibling)

TW/CW: None. Fluff as fluffy as Pavitr!

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

It was weird. Not expected, like, at all.

Everyone knew it was weird, because Miguel friggin' O'Hara admitted it was weird.

Two people getting bit by the same radioactive spider?

Two Spider-People at the same time?

Two Spider-Punks?

Miguel could barely handle the one.

But, he figured it would be better to have you included in the Spider Society than have you in the dark, especially when your older brother Hobie was already pretty involved.

And so, your brother's tour of HQ started, prattling on about how Miguel would probably pull out all the stops on how you two typically kicked back and had unwound after your "hero crap."

Basically meaning "no spray paint, no loud obnoxious music, no fun".

But, you distracted yourself from the confining rules of your new "job" by saying hi to the people your brother introduced you to.

To say you were shocked was an understatement.

The pregnant Spider-Woman and the guy with a baby strapped to his chest? You could handle that.

But a freakin' T-Rex, a car, a cat... a popsicle?!

Miguel was worried about two punks?!

You adjusted one of your studded bracelets, sighing.

Your mask was off, revealing the heavy eyeliner and facial piercings you had. Yours weren't as basic as your brother's, you had some rhinestone studs to add a bit of "sparkle" to your visage. The chains and safety pins in your ears however were pretty on the bar.

"'Ey! There he is!" Hobie shouted, waving his arm in the air frantically to get the attention of another Spider-Man.

"Pavitr! Get yer arse over here and meet somebody!" He laughed.

The guy looked like he was about your age, might be older. But with the fact you're gonna be working with a sentient popsicle?

Easy peasy.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

Pavitr's heart did a funny flip-flop in his chest when he laid eyes on you.

You were breathtaking.

Probably literally, to people you were angry or fighting with...

Your heavy, smudged eye makeup, studded appearance, and punkish appearance for some reason hit him like a ton of bricks.

You were on the same level of fashion as Hobie, but something about you made butterflies fly around in his tummy and sweat break out on his palms.

Oh, god, you had a lip ring, too?

He swallowed and nervously patted his sides as Hobie practically shoved him to you and introduced you to him, and you watched as they did their typical play-fighting.

"This is my work bro, Pavitr. He's from another universe, too." Hobie grinned at you, leaning over to drape his arm over Pavitr's shoulder as the latter stared at you, wide eyes and blankly blinking.

"Sup. Hobie's told me a bit about you?" You say, tossing him a lopsided smirk that made his pulse skyrocket.

He felt like his knees were gonna give out when you grabbed his hand and shook it, giving a fist bump as you pulled away, carefully minding him with your spiked knuckles.

"Uh, it's, uh hi. Yeah." Pavitr fumbled, making you chuckle.

Oh, god, your laugh. It was perfect. Like a nice cold glass of water after a hot run.

And he suddenly found himself very thirsty.

Gwen came up and smirked at you, grabbing your hand to pull you away to show you something.

"C'mon, I gotta show you the cafeteria." She says.

You give Hobie and Pavitr a wink and a wave as you let the girl pull you away.

Hobie stared at Pavitr with the most frustratingly shit-eating smirk he's ever had.

"Cat got ya tongue, Pav?" He teased.

"No, I'm just--just tired! And I didn't know you had a sibling!" He sputtered, trying to shake him off.

"Oi, don't tell me you gotta crush on my sib already, Pav?!" Hobie grinned like a pierced shark.

"No!" Pavitr denied, his voice cracking and squeaking a bit with how hard he was denying it.

But, Hobie noticed the way Pavitr stared after you as you left with Gwen.

And again, he grinned.

#pavitr x you #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr prabhakar x reader #spiderverse pavitr #atsv pavitr #answered #hobie brown #atsv hobie

[johnny-boy-17]

MAWS Lex Thoughts

To start off, Studio Mir has done so good with the Superman source material. They’ve taken what works, given new some tweaks to some stuff for the modern age, and when it hits, it hits hard. Like, this is one of the better iterations of Clark I’ve seen, I quickly came around to this ‘fresh-outta-college’ version Lois, and I adore Jimmy Olsen’s new ‘tackboards, strings, and cryptids’ vibe. 

All this to say that I am absolutely salivating at the idea of how these folks do Lex Luthor, who they’ve just unveiled (subtly at that).

Introducing Luthor as a salty, underpaid, and unappreciated intern to a tech-bro was absolutely the right way to go about this, and I’m so eager to see his rise to the top of Metropolis. He barely had any lines, and already I got the impression that he’s a social-darwinist who would construct a building just to hang an L over everyone else in the city. 

That said, I rarely find that Lex has been done full justice. My ideal version of Lex is one that just leans into a Randian philosophy while also being a total toon about it. 

And if the Incredibles and Bioshock have taught me anything, it’s that Ayn Rand’s idea of a ‘Titan of Industry’ makes for a marvellously compelling antagonist. Case in point; Andrew Ryan and Buddy “Syndrome” Pine.

I dare even say they have some Lex qualities each if you go looking. Ryan has canonically destroyed ecosystems (plural) just so the poverty-striken “parasites” couldn’t enjoy it, and Syndrome has committed homicidal atrocities just to prove that anyone can be a super with proper technology. 

Both of those actions are not out of the question for Lex Luthor. This is a man who would blot out the sun just to kill Superman and claim it was for cancer prevention. This is a man who constructed a flying Alexa that reads Moby Dick at a frequency high enough to tunnel out of prison. This is a man who cured cancer just so he could do f*cking nothing about it. This is a man who purchased radioactive space-rock just to f*cking spite an immigrant from the stars. 

But of course, most diabolically, this is a man who stole 40 cakes when nobody was looking.

Anyway, after the Writers win the strike/create a new entertainment industry, I am super excited to see what these guys do (with Lex). 

#my adventures with superman #lex luthor #alexander joseph luthor #superman

[welcome-to-the-neotheater]

Non-Comprehensive List of Things I Love About AJR City Savers

AJR WEBISODE: CITY SAVERS (youtube.com)

keep reading because loooooooooooooooooong post

0:00, I love the implication that they are spending 3/4 of their waking hours on this club and they don't have any free time between that and the band

0:12-0:15, he's holding this box with his bare hands normally for a few good seconds here, and only at the end does he decide that its actually super radioactive and he jerks his hand away from it really fast

0:20 Yeah that's going to help get the paint off

0:23 The old logo looks really weird to me after being used to the current one

0:30 he is so fucking proud of himself for putting a leaf into the trash can

0:35 "We founded this city savers club to protect this fine city we live in", the protection of course being kicking a piece of cardboard about 5 feet

0:38 "We start off at 4:30 in the morning, first item on the agenda, song" They're singing songs for the public, (specifically, the "youth" , 1:10) at 4:30 in the morning, "first item on the agenda"

0:48 none of the children are paying any attention to his song, the only one who even looks at the camera is a parent who, if anything, seems unimpressed

0:52 they did this shit in public

1:06 great camera work there

1:13 "We really feel like it gets our message across"

1:20 this is entirely useless

1:35 Does he have a meterstick? How does he know?

1:37 There's no god damn way they can hear him inside their fast cars, probably with windows up with him speaking at slightly above speaking voice

1:42 "Morning Deb!"

1:46 Outfit change from previous scene, these are different days. He does this regularly.

1:53 "NO!"

1:57 He's no longer doing something useless, this is actually disruptive, as you can tell from the honks

1:59 Unless one was added in the jump cut, you can see in the previous shot there was not, in fact, a baby blue jay's nest right there

1:59 What purpose does the word "baby" in "baby blue jay's nest" serve? Correct me if im not up to date on bird knowledge, but aren't all nests built by adult birds build the nests for their babies? Is he trying to say that the baby blue bird built the nest? I don't think baby birds can build nests. Is he just referring to the fact that the birds that live in the nests are babies? This is either redundant or wrong.

2:05 "I've submitted my application for the city savers club almost a dozen times now... I really hope I get in this month". He has been applying to enter this "club" (it has 2 members and does nothing of value) for almost a year.

2:17 Jack checks behind the curtain as if there's any way Adam was just hiding behind the curtain

2:22 Ryan is already so bored

2:28 I counted a 5 second pause before "What?"

2:40 Their brother attached a headshot in his resume as if they wouldn't know what he looked like.

2:43-48 this is just great

2:05-48 Jack and Ryan have created this fake club and have, for almost a year, been holding this over their older brother's head and having him submit formal applications to join his younger brothers' fake club and they have been denying all of them. If that isn't the most sibling shit out there, I don't know what is

2:48 "Graffiti" is a child's chalk drawing

2:55 "Can't get this out", he's using his shoe to remove washable childs chalk from the street. "Can't get this out" have you tried water??? They have to make that shit so it's easy to get out of children's clothes, and so that it washes away when it rains, if this "graffiti" is such a problem get some water and spray it

3:01 "Surprisingly pigeons don't just eat breadcrumbs". Look, I've never been to New York, but if the pigeons there are anything like seagulls, it should be 0 surprise to someone that's grown up there that the pigeons will eat whatever you give to them.

Idk what those are (skittles?) but they don't look like you should be feeding them to pigeons

3:07, they're feeding chunky peanut butter to the pigeons. naturally

3:12 LEE!!!!!!!

3:18 He runs away immediately after hearing they're going to try to put that sweater on him

3:20 They were already talking to him at an unreasonable distance apart but now even more so as he's gone entirely off screen and they continue to talk normally to him for I counted 7 seconds.

3:27 The cut off "Lee-". How long did they do that for?

3:29 Gotta love the "we're saving the world!" music that comes in here

3:30 Pre 2020 mask

3:33 All of the water has fallen out of his hands before he reaches the plant

3:37-41 I don't know if this was planned, I don't want to know if that was intentional

3:52 Wow! Look at this plant!

Throughout the entirety of this video they do nothing actually helpful for the city (yet continuously act like they're saving the world). Their "good deeds" are either entirely pointless ("traffic control", trying to get rid off the paint with his foot at 0:20, "singing for the youth", "watering" that plant) or actually slightly harmful (blocking some car because of an invisible blue jays nest, refusing to let their brother into the club, feeding shit to pigeons that they should not be doing, trying to get rid of a child's drawing)

Jack stated in an interview once that he's actually afraid of pigeons

Adam is a climate activist now, and I like to think that stemmed from not being allowed into city savers

Damn did I write a lot for a video under 4 minutes. I feel like one of those people that keeps interrupting movies to talk about deeper meanings or explain the jokes now.

#ajr #ajr brothers #ajr songs #maybe my friends are right about me being autistic #oh well

[detectiveangel]

post-traumatic synthesized dreamscape no. 1

this digital sound composition is an attempt to transcribe (record, mollify, exorcise) my emotions looking back on the events of last february as i experienced them.

i was living in st. petersburg as a graduate student researcher, one of the dwindling ragtag lot of americans with no family ties to russia still trying to live there, when the russian military invaded ukraine early in the morning the day after february 23rd, the federal holiday honoring military men that was once red army day. i had already given up on my dream of living in russia for anything approaching the long term and was trying to stay for just as long as i safely could as History unfolded around me. i left russia 24 hours after the start of the invasion and made it back to the u.s. safe but mentally shattered. I’d spent months navigating or avoiding tense encounters with russian migration police as weekly updates to civil law gradually made it very nearly impossible to legally reside in russia as citizen of a designated “enemy nation;” and then finally found myself alone in a windowless room with an fsb agent in the remote checkpoint by the finnish border that terrible morning. my battered psyche imploded before the questioning, which was, objectively, very mild, even began.

back in the u.s., i spent months struggling to operate my own person before i realized that i had ptsd from a war to which i had barely been a distant bystander. i started therapy and saw massive improvement after just a few months. good fortune, which saw me safely through so many close calls and near-disasters during the grinding buildup and violent lurch into fully-fledged military rule in russia, blessed me yet again.

before entering formal therapy, i leaned very heavily on intoxicating substances (alcohol in russia, marijuana in the u.s.) and movies to keep the terror at bay. my understanding of myself in this phase of my life is heavily mediated by cinema, especially cinema made or set in the wwii and early “post-war” era. this time when society’s psychic wounds were only just scabbing over and could be seen on nearly everyone who crossed a camera feels less like the past and more like a parallel present still playing out in ever-more garbled reproductions in the nightmare fantasies that govern life in the places that never healed properly from the traumas of the ‘40s. to make beautiful or joyful art has become impossible, but the need to externalize our disordered response to trauma in art is stronger than ever. our voices can no longer carry a tune, but we have all history’s old recordings to grind and reshape into new kinds of music that may somehow express the emotions no amount of time and treatment can resolve.

some notes on the recordings i used as material for this piece

during this last year of trauma recovery, i saw myself most vividly in one particular cinematic incantation of postwar psychosis co-created by a brit and an american both too young to have experienced wwii but raised in its fallout as men in societies where the publicly synthesized idea of maleness is overwhelmingly suffused with the radioactive particles still emitting from the atoms of that war. watching mickey rourke’s performance in alan parker’s metaphysically-canted neo-noir “angel heart” (1987) somehow made a narrative out of the glossolalia of confusion and pain humming at the core of my being during the strung-out spring that followed the terrible winter of ’21-’22.

in the autumn before that winter, i had found strength and solace from the encroaching fascist terror in russia in the exploration and nurturing of my own masculinity. i had long identified more with a masculine perspective than a female one, but various factors limited the extent to which i expressed this identification. various other factors led to me reaching new levels of masculine identification and expression that fall, and this was a positive, self-actualizing experience that nurtured me during the months in which i lived under increasingly dire threat of repression from a government officially opposed to the existence of queers, americans, and gender studies researchers within its borders.

months of trudging alone through seedy hotels, anxious crowds, and icy boulevards, all while looking over my shoulder for police, were bearable if i saw myself as a sort of postmodern pastiche of film noir protagonists, a hardboiled detective working an increasingly dangerous case, an existentially bedraggled man in the wrong time, space, and body muttering clever wisecracks for the benefit of none but himself and perhaps some imaginary audience of ghosts and angels. at that time i hadn’t, to my knowledge, actually watched any of the classic bogart & co. detective movies, so my metaphysical drag act was itself composed from impressions and parodies. i was, however, quite intimate with other strains of 1940s cinema (i was in the archives mainly to study a film from that decade) and though my active memory has retained nothing of “casablanca” (1942), i did see that film at a Formative Age and this would seem the most likely source of my improbable and ultimately impossible lifelong obsession with becoming a jaded-yet-romantic american expat on the fringes of europe.

lying prone in the rubble of my exploded expat fantasies back in my native california, i watched movies projected on my ceiling and in most cases enjoyed a vacation from my psychological perspective through the temporary occupation of another. but once in a while, i caught my own reflection in the kino-eye. such was the case with “angel heart,” a meticulously formalist meditation on the fractured collective psyche of “postwar” america via the methodical deconstruction of a man composed entirely of echoes and fictions masking unbearable trauma from participating in ritual human sacrifice both literally (as an occultist) and metaphorically (as a soldier in the war). as a supernatural creation bearing the souls of both perpetrator and victim of the sacrifice, his trauma response is self-annihilating – a mystical representation of the psychosis experienced by all us cogs in the war machine, one-souled or otherwise. the two souls bound up in harry angel/johnny favorite both experienced the war from a sidelined, un-masculine position: one as a section 8 discharge dismissed after a brief, traumatizing stint of service, the other as an enlisted entertainer. this allegory resonated in the contours of my imagination with incredible sonority, but i saw my reflection well before the plot unfolded, in the very first scenes of the film, in the physical demeanor affected by mickey rourke loping awkwardly through dirty manhattan snow in a wool trenchcoat. i had caught a similar reflection many times in the windows of moscow and petersburg as i trudged through dirty snow, insulating my frightened self from a hostile world with a similar wool trenchcoat and self-effacing butch affect cribbed from cinema-mediated memories of ‘20s-‘30s tough guys.

my identification with this character/performance is only one undercurrent of this noise-music composition, but it is the one i feel needs the most explication. the meanings carried by the other voices (among them those of vyacheslav tikhonov portraying an exhausted soviet agent within the ss in early 1945 berlin, leonid utesov singing the praises of his beloved odessa, and alexander vertinsky crooning an emigrant’s lament for distant st. petersburg) are more self-apparent.

2/23/2023

media sampled here:

audio from the films

“the third man” (1949)

“семнадцать мгновения весны” (1972)

“angel heart” (1987)

“black angel” (1946)

“casablanca” (1942)

song recordings

“у черного моря” (leonid utesov, 1953)

“girl of my dreams” (etta james, 1960)

“чужие города” (alexander vertinsky, 1936)

“крейсер «аврора»” (choir of the leningrad pioneers’ hall, 1982)

additionally

personal audio recordings

midi file created from the composition “песня о далекой родине” (1972) by mikаеl tariverdiev

the accompanying video was created with samples from the above-mentioned films, as well as personal recordings and archival footage from a filmed concert performance by leonid utesov in 1940.

audio edited & produced using ableton live 9

video edited & produced in windows movie maker + microsoft clipchamp

some notes on the recordings i used as material for this piece

during this last year of trauma recovery, i saw myself most vividly in one particular cinematic incantation of postwar psychosis co-created by a brit and an american both too young to have experienced wwii but raised in its fallout as men in societies where the publicly synthesized idea of maleness is overwhelmingly suffused with the radioactive particles still emitting from the atoms of that war. watching mickey rourke’s performance in alan parker’s metaphysically-canted neo-noir “angel heart” (1987) somehow made a narrative out of the glossolalia of confusion and pain humming at the core of my being during the strung-out spring that followed the terrible winter of ’21-’22.

in the autumn before that winter, i had found strength and solace from the encroaching fascist terror in russia in the exploration and nurturing of my own masculinity. i had long identified more with a masculine perspective than a female one, but various factors limited the extent to which i expressed this identification. various other factors led to me reaching new levels of masculine identification and expression that fall, and this was a positive, self-actualizing experience that nurtured me during the months in which i lived under increasingly dire threat of repression from a government officially opposed to the existence of queers, americans, and gender studies researchers within its borders.

months of trudging alone through seedy hotels, anxious crowds, and icy boulevards, all while looking over my shoulder for police, were bearable if i saw myself as a sort of postmodern pastiche of film noir protagonists, a hardboiled detective working an increasingly dangerous case, an existentially bedraggled man in the wrong time, space, and body muttering clever wisecracks for the benefit of none but himself and perhaps some imaginary audience of ghosts and angels. at that time i hadn’t, to my knowledge, actually watched any of the classic bogart & co. detective movies, so my metaphysical drag act was itself composed from impressions and parodies. i was, however, quite intimate with other strains of 1940s cinema (i was in the archives mainly to study a film from that decade) and though my active memory has retained nothing of “casablanca” (1942), i did see that film at a Formative Age and this would seem the most likely source of my improbable and ultimately impossible lifelong obsession with becoming a jaded-yet-romantic american expat on the fringes of europe.

lying prone in the rubble of my exploded expat fantasies back in my native california, i watched movies projected on my ceiling and in most cases enjoyed a vacation from my psychological perspective through the temporary occupation of another. but once in a while, i caught my own reflection in the kino-eye. such was the case with “angel heart,” a meticulously formalist meditation on the fractured collective psyche of “postwar” america via the methodical deconstruction of a man composed entirely of echoes and fictions masking unbearable trauma from participating in ritual human sacrifice both literally (as an occultist) and metaphorically (as a soldier in the war). as a supernatural creation bearing the souls of both perpetrator and victim of the sacrifice, his trauma response is self-annihilating – a mystical representation of the psychosis experienced by all us cogs in the war machine, one-souled or otherwise. the two souls bound up in harry angel/johnny favorite both experienced the war from a sidelined, un-masculine position: one as a section 8 discharge dismissed after a brief, traumatizing stint of service, the other as an enlisted entertainer. this allegory resonated in the contours of my imagination with incredible sonority, but i saw my reflection well before the plot unfolded, in the very first scenes of the film, in the physical demeanor affected by mickey rourke loping awkwardly through dirty manhattan snow in a wool trenchcoat. i had caught a similar reflection many times in the windows of moscow and petersburg as i trudged through dirty snow, insulating my frightened self from a hostile world with a similar wool trenchcoat and self-effacing butch affect cribbed from cinema-mediated memories of ‘20s-‘30s tough guys.

my identification with this character/performance is only one undercurrent of this noise-music composition, but it is the one i feel needs the most explication. the meanings carried by the other voices (among them those of vyacheslav tikhonov portraying an exhausted soviet agent within the ss in early 1945 berlin, leonid utesov singing the praises of his beloved odessa, and alexander vertinsky crooning an emigrant’s lament for distant st. petersburg) are more self-apparent.

#music #personal #noise #sound art #soundscape #trauma #ptsd #war #movies #my life in movies #film #russia #ukraine #ussr #cinema #digital music #art experiment #noise art #sound collage #audio collage #россия #украина #война #кино #музыка #video art

[zapreportsblog]

Spider Li Into The Spiderverse

➥ summary: (Y/n) Li was a normal teenage girl until she had been bitten by a radioactive spider one day after coming home from the gym, now she isn’t so normal. With abilities like non other (Y/n) goes from being this normal teenager to this crime stopping super hero Spider Li! But out-worldly forces come into play when other spider people start visiting her world to find out more about her. After all what spiderperson has a family that accepts them for being a superhero, friends who know of their secrets, and no canon event ever to be found in history?! Spider Li that’s who! So just what makes this girl so special?

➥ chapter 9: The Unlikely Encounter

The city was engulfed in chaos as Spider Li swung through the concrete canyons, her lithe form a blur against the evening sky. Her spider-sense tingled, warning her of an imminent anomaly. She had trained tirelessly to protect the innocent, and tonight was no exception. Determined, she leaped from building to building, closing in on the source of the disturbance.

Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of the city, Peter Parker, known to the world as Spider-Man, received a distress call from the authorities. An anomaly had surfaced, causing havoc and endangering countless lives. Aware of the potential danger, Peter donned his iconic suit and made his way to the scene, carrying a precious cargo in his arms - his baby spiderling, Mayday.

The night air crackled with tension as Spider Li arrived at the location. The anomaly, a swirling vortex of energy, unleashed its destructive force upon the surroundings. Unfazed, Spider Li leaped into action, her acrobatic maneuvers and expert combat skills on full display.

As the battle ensued, a sense of awe washed over Spider Li. She had faced numerous foes in her crime-fighting career, but this anomaly possessed an otherworldly power. With every strike and evasive maneuver, Spider Li pushed herself to the limit, determined to overcome this formidable opponent.

Unbeknownst to Spider Li, her display of strength and skill had caught the attention of Mayday, who was perched on her father's shoulder. The baby spiderling, barely a year old but already exhibiting her spider-like abilities, found Spider Li fascinating. Mayday's tiny fingers reached out, releasing strands of webbing that shot towards Spider Li with childlike curiosity.

In a swift motion, Spider Li reacted, her reflexes honed by countless hours of training. She snatched Mayday from the air, preventing any harm from befalling the young spiderling. The sudden movement startled Mayday, and she looked up at Spider Li with wide, innocent eyes.

"Omg, it's a spider baby," Spider Li exclaimed, a mixture of shock and amazement coloring her voice. She couldn't help but marvel at the sight of a baby with spider-like abilities. Mayday, seemingly unfazed by the commotion, responded with a gleeful giggle that filled the air.

The anomaly, sensing a distraction, seized the opportunity and launched an attack at Spider Li and Mayday. Despite her attention being diverted, Spider Li's instincts kicked in. Her body moved with an almost preternatural grace, evading the anomaly's assault with ease. It was as if she had eyes on the back of her head, anticipating every move with uncanny precision.

While defending herself and Mayday, Spider Li never took her eyes off the spiderling. She bombarded Mayday with questions, her astonishment blending with genuine curiosity. Mayday, in her infant innocence, responded with nothing but joyful giggles, completely unaware of the danger that surrounded them.

Watching the unfolding scene from a distance, Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man, was astonished. He had faced formidable adversaries and encountered countless heroes, but he had never witnessed someone handle a dire situation with such finesse while attending to a child. It was a testament to Spider Li's exceptional abilities and unwavering dedication to protect the innocent.

In that moment, Spider-Man recognized Spider Li as a kindred spirit, a fellow guardian of the vulnerable.

As the battle raged on between Spider Li and the formidable anomaly, the anomaly seized the opportunity to strike when Spider Li's attention momentarily wavered. But to its surprise, Spider Li's lightning-quick reflexes saved her once again. Even while distracted, it was as if she possessed eyes on the back of her head, effortlessly evading the anomaly's attacks.

Every movement Spider Li made was a dance of agility and precision. She dodged the anomaly's strikes with grace, never losing focus on the baby spiderling in her arms. With Mayday's safety as her top priority, Spider Li continued to ask the baby questions, her curiosity piqued by the little one's spider-like abilities.

Mayday, innocent and carefree, responded to Spider Li's inquiries with infectious giggles, her laughter filling the tense air. Spider Li found herself captivated by the baby's pure joy and the undeniable bond they seemed to share. In that moment, she forgot about the battle around them, immersing herself in the enchantment of Mayday's presence.

On the outskirts of the chaotic scene, Peter Parker, known as Spider-Man, watched in awe. He had faced countless adversaries and witnessed impressive displays of heroism, but he had never encountered someone who possessed Spider Li's level of focus and skill. His astonishment grew as he observed her effortlessly maneuver through the battlefield while tending to Mayday's well-being.

Spider-Man's thoughts raced, contemplating the possibilities. Who was this mysterious figure with such extraordinary abilities? How had Spider Li developed such a unique connection with Mayday, a connection that seemed to transcend their shared spider-like traits? There were so many questions yet to be answered.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Spider-Man sprang into action, lending his assistance to Spider Li in the ongoing battle. Together, they fought side by side, their movements seamlessly synchronized. Spider Li's unwavering dedication to Mayday inspired Spider-Man, reminding him of the importance of protecting the innocent.

As the intensity of the battle escalated, Spider Li's acrobatics grew even more mesmerizing. With each maneuver, she not only shielded Mayday from harm but also deflected the anomaly's attacks, turning them against the very force that sought to bring chaos to the city. Her focus remained steadfast, even as the world around them erupted in turmoil.

In the midst of the chaos, Spider Li couldn't help but notice the stunned expression on Peter Parker's face. Their eyes met briefly, and in that instant, Spider Li glimpsed a mix of admiration, disbelief, and curiosity in his gaze. However, their shared understanding of the need to protect their loved ones compelled them to set aside their questions for now and focus on the task at hand.

As the battle neared its climax, Spider Li and Spider-Man delivered a final blow, overwhelming the anomaly's defenses. The anomaly's form wavered before dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind a calm that belied the chaos that had unfolded mere moments ago.

As silence descended upon the scene, Spider Li gently handed Mayday back to her father, Peter Parker. Their identities still remained shrouded in secrecy, but the connection forged in the heat of battle was undeniable. A mixture of gratitude and respect passed between Spider Li and Spider-Man, acknowledging their shared experience.

With a nod, Spider-Man vanished into the night, leaving Spider Li to ponder the events of the encounter. Her thoughts swirled, filled with wonder at the inexplicable bond she had formed with Mayday and the connection she had felt with Spider-Man. She knew deep down that their paths would cross again, for the spider-powered heroes had a way of finding one another in times of need.

And so, as the city settled into a fragile calm, Spider Li continued her vigilant watch, ready to face whatever challenges awaited her. For the extraordinary encounter with Spider-Man had only reaffirmed her commitment to protect the innocent and uphold the ideals that defined her as Spider Li. The web of destiny had entangled their lives, setting the stage for future adventures and uniting them in their shared duty to be the heroes the world needed.

As the night drew to a close, Spider Li's mind buzzed with anticipation. The encounter with Spider-Man had forever changed her, and she was eager to discover the mysteries that lay ahead, knowing that the path of a hero was one filled with challenges, revelations, and unexpected alliances.

Little did Spider Li know that her journey was just beginning, and the world of superheroes would soon unveil new alliances, formidable adversaries, and tests of her character that would shape her into the hero she was destined to become.

Chapter 9 witnessed the convergence of two spider-powered individuals, their shared encounter leaving an indelible mark on both their lives. Fate had woven its web, intertwining their destinies in ways they could not yet comprehend. And in the ever-changing landscape of heroes and anomalies, the journey of Spider Li and Spider-Man was only just beginning.

#spiderverse x reader #Spider Li Into The Spiderverse series #Spider Li Into The Spiderverse #spider gang #spiderman into the spiderverse #x reader #x reader series #spider li into the spiderverse masterlist

[ofseok]

☆ → @myhyun

If Minseok had to be honest, he had planned to go to the Pastelería Ideal to get some pan dulce and cookies to share with Jinnie. But when he and his best friend had read about candies with bugs in them - well, it had been difficult to say no to something he had never imagined could even exist. After stopping by Los Cocuyos to have some tacos for lunch, and eating more than should be possible, the idea of getting those candies for dessert was more tempting than ever. So, of course, Minseok and Yehyun turned right and walked three blocks under the sun just to get to the Mercado de San Juan.

Now, it wasn't like he had actually thought they would find it, but he refused to back down. Besides, it was possible that there wouldn't be any other chance to try this again in a long time, if they ever returned to Mexico City together. So there was no hesitation when they bought two colorful lollipops with scorpions inside them. It looked so freaky, like something radioactive with poison. But the nice man told them they were completely safe to eat.

That was enough, he decided as he paid for them. Because there was no way they could make it to the departure spot for the Capital Bus on time, they had to take a taxi. It would have been the perfect opportunity to eat their candy and move on, but that didn't seem fun enough for either of them. The chaotic energy seemed to feed off each other whenever they were together, and they weren't even trying.

It was ridiculous how their good luck could be, because the bus was already there with barely a few minutes left. Minseok paid for the taxi and both boys rushed to get on the pink bus. Once they made it to the second deck, despite the fact it was a sunny day, and found a place at the back. Minseok leaned into the seat as soon as the bus started moving. "See? I told you we would make it! It says we can leave whenever we want at any stop, so maybe we can stay in Santa Fe Mall?" There was no way they could stay in here for nine hours, or they could, but do they have the patience? Not really.

#☆ → interactions #☆ → Yehyun #☆ Yehyun → 002

[enchantedaloefics]

Hobie x Spider-Person Reader (Chapter Three)

This may or may not be entirely a self insert (if that wasn't obvious already) but I'm having a lot of fun writing this between doodling and playing way too much stardew. I had a specific song in mind while writing because it's one of my favorites (Brave as a Noun by AJJ) but I didn't wanna make it too specific (Even if my ramblings about music tastes were entirely just me rambling about myself.) Anyways, hope you enjoy!!

~~Chapter Three~~

It didn’t take long for the casual conversation to focus back on you. 

“So,” Gwen asked, perched on the back of one of the chairs, “Tell us a little about yourself.”

“Well… um, My name is Y/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for three years I've been the one and only Spider-Man. Or, I thought I was.” You looked around, and everyone was nodding along. This seemed to be a universal experience. You had to think of something else.

“Aside from that, I’m an artist and a musician. I play a few instruments and I sing-“ that seemed to pique Hobie’s interest “- and I graduated high school about a year back. I like video games and, um… I’m not sure what else to say.”

“Musician?” Hobie asked, turning towards you more in his seat, leaning towards you slightly. “What kinda music ya into?” He shot a look at Gwen, one you couldn’t quite read, but Gwen leaned closer as well.

“My taste is all over the place I guess. Classic rock, Alt, indie, various punk subgenres, especially folk punk or pop punk, Taylor Swift… Do you guys have Taylor swift? Doesn’t matter- but I’ll listen to anything,” you couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your face, “My aunt May loved driving me to school when I was younger. We’d put on the radio and sing at the top of our lungs, and if I found a song I’d like I’d write it down and see how fast I could learn it on whatever instrument I felt like practicing.”

You shifted in your seat slightly. Talking about your aunt felt bittersweet now, but you loved music. That and painting were what got you through your tough times. “Do you guys play anything?”

You should have put the pieces together by now. Of course Hobie played an instrument. Two amps sat stacked in one corner of the room, one electric guitar propped next to them, another across the room. Plus the various picks you saw when you came in. Your face bloomed red with embarrassment at the question. 

“Of course they do, bro, these two have been trying to start a band here since Gwen showed up,” Pav chimed in, leaning forward as well, though that seemed to just be his posture. “Hobie’s trying to teach me bass, but I haven’t had much time to practice between school and Gayatri and Spider-manning.”

You nodded along, barely noticing the sounds of people moving as you asked “Gayatri? Are they another spider-person?”

“Oh, no, bro!” He started, waving his hands. “She’s my girlfriend back home! Doesn’t even know I’m Spider-Man yet.”

“I’m sure she knows, Pav,” Gwen chimed in, settling back into her seat. “You’re a terrible liar and Gaya’s smart. Not to mention you flirt with her as Pavitr and Spider-Man…” She twirled her drum sticks in her hands- wait, when did she get those- as she spoke.

You switched your attention back to Hobie, who had left his spot on the couch. He was instead plugging his ax into one of the amps. You felt excitement bubble in your stomach. You love watching people play. The sound of live music, the vibrations shaking your chest and buzzing in your head.

“You said Folk Punk? Bit specific, innit?” Your face flushed slightly, but you nodded. 

“Yeah. AJJ, Crywank, Pat the Bunny…” You trailed off, laughing quietly to yourself at the face Pav made at the names. You reached for the pocket of your suit, flush to your thigh and fairly well hidden, and pulled out your phone. It was busted and broken, but it still had service… somehow. You really didn’t understand this whole multiverse thing. But you managed to pull up your music and play one of your favorites.

Hobie nodded slightly, turning up the volume so Gwen and Pav could hear, and you couldn’t help but hum along, bobbing your head and tapping your foot. Your fingers twitched along with the note changes you’ve memorized on your guitar. As the song ends, Hobie looked pleased, pushing his guitar towards you.

You tilted your head slightly, sliding your phone back into your pocket before raising your eyebrow at him. He simply nodded, gesturing towards the guitar. “You said you play, yeh?”

“Yeah, but… you just listened to the song, didn’t you?” You picked up the guitar, turning it over in your arms, resting it on your lap. It was amazing, even if it was a good bit beat up. A sticker on the side was peeling up and scratching your arm slightly, but for some reason it didn’t bother you.

“Yeh, but I wanna hear you play it,” he replied, his voice close to a mumble. For half a second, you forgot anyone else was watching you, and you held the guitar closer, ready to play. You felt your face turn red, and your stomach fluttered with nerves. You shook your head, but when you glanced back up, everyone looked at you so expectantly. Hobie slipped a pick between your fingers, and you quickly adjusted your grip as Gwen tapped her drumsticks together, a non-verbal offer to start the song off, like a test to see if you could join them.

Your fingers were cold, poor circulation never your friend anyways but nerves making it worse, and your throat felt tight, but you nodded anyway.You counted the taps, nodding along to the drum sticks hitting the coffee table- Gwen had set up her own makeshift drum set, and you were thankful. It was quieter than the real thing. Your hands were shaky as you plucked out the first few chords, your knuckles pale and tense. The first few words sounded squeaky, like your own throat was strangling itself to keep them from coming out, and you knew everyone noticed. You could feel your face burn all the way to your ears, but you kept on.

As you played, you could feel your hands warm up, your voice leave your throat a little easier. Music was second nature to you, but without your mask, you were never the most confident person. This certainly wasn’t your best work, but you weren’t crying, which was monumental enough for you.

It wasn’t long before you finished, and you shoved the guitar away like it burned. There was a moment of silence, then Pavitr clapping and whooping. You couldn’t help but smile, the reaction reminded you of your Aunt.

“Thanks, Pav. Sorry that was rough, I don’t really play in front of people. I opened for a concert as spiderman once, but that’s different,” you started, picking at your hangnails, staring down at your chipped nail polish.

“Gwendy, you thinkin what I am?” Hobie asked, moving the guitar from you and unplugging it, setting it back down. You finally chanced a look at their faces. Gwen looked ecstatic, Hobie at least a little impressed. You felt your chest swell with the slightest bit of pride.

“Hell yeah! We’re finally getting a band!”

#atsv astv hobie astv fanfic astv fic astv x reader hobie brown hobie x reader spider punk This isnt proofread