#spider man far from home posters

[medivhstower]

#art #illustration #fanart #film #poster #digital art #spider-man #far from home #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #beautiful #love #amazing #artwork

[magickingdom1901]

#Disney #Marvel Studios #Spider-Man: Far From Home #Poster

[ourmadmusings]

Anon requested: Would you be able to write a Miguel x f!reader fic where they are romantically involved and Lyla goes crazy and thinks that the reader is too much of a distraction to Miguel and his mission? To the point where she feeds the reader bad information that almost gets her killed and when that doesn't work she lures the reader into a trap? --- a/n: tried to keep it short, but thank you so much for the req!

Running on empty:

It starts small, a break in code, maybe. But to them, it was the world - Miguel was theirs.

He isn’t sure when the glitch started, but he knew something was wrong. Sending destinations to incorrect places, warping you to worlds you ought not be in. Missing mission targets, failures to capture, issues. Miguel wasn’t one for issues, especially when it came to you, someone he knew was smarter than that. Things moved faster with you around, the dark cloud that hung over his shoulders lifting just enough for him to remember what it was like to be human, not just SpiderMan 2099. You took up his time, time he used to spend with them. Maybe that was his mistake, he relied too much on their company, made them too human while he was writing their code. "There’s an anomaly spotting in a neighboring world, O’Hara wants you to go alone, he said it wasn’t too much of a threat, in and out!” They hummed from your watch, you agreed and they opened a doorway for you. They had sent you to a wasteland of an Earth, cold and barren, they said they were having a hard time connecting back to 2099 because of the sub-zero temperatures, it was seizing up your hardware. The last thing you hear is a quick apology then - silence. Two days you’d spent there before Miguel came to find you. He’d sworn against ever thinking to send you, your suit being your only protection - far too thin for a place like this, he’d said. He rushed you to the infirmary, much to Lyla’s chagrin, and spent the two days it took you to recover starkly by your bed. A deep scowl set on his brow, silencing any of their communications, summons from other Spiders, even threats of anomaly wasn’t enough to pry him away from you. Next time though, they hid your location from Miguel, swearing you were just at home, dealing with some local issues. He felt foolish for believing them after all of this. He had found files documenting your time together around the citadel, they were angry. Vindictive. He knew that. It hit a peak when he found you, hardly breathing, after being sent to a world riddled with crime - no Spider-Man there to mitigate any of the problems. “You risked the life of one of our best, Lyla, and for what?” He was fuming, yelling at a hologram - he knew this was silly, he could just rewrite the code. It had taken just too long for him to track you down - your watch had been disabled, basically useless, you’d been glitching, struggling. You weren’t even sure where you were. As soon as  you phased in, you watched a mask man pull a gun. You took a second to collect yourself - a small bodega with a very mousey woman behind the counter. Of course it was in the middle of a very hostile robbery - “-in the bag! Now!” The man, dressed in all black and a head taller than you, waved his gun to emphasize the seriousness. She was horrified, stuck in a panicked haze, time was running out, the man let out a sigh before straightening his stance. You only just hear the tell-tale click of the boot before you’re fully in your own body, lunging towards him. Just too late, boom, the woman let out a final scream before crumpling behind the counter. Your blood ran cold, and the masked man stumbled out of the small space as quickly as you came in. It devolved from there, more crime around the block, no cops to keep them in check, and you risking your neck. The word of a masked vigilante spread quickly - no one was keen on shaking up the way of this Earth. Within a few hours, your image was spread. Lamp posts, posters, rewards from crime rings in return for your mask. In over your head, truly. Days passed as you spent them running. Honest to god running from one hideout to the next, trying in vein to connect with Miguel over your comms. Nothing. Each time you were met with a proverbial dial-tone. You’d been caught more than once, each time your wounds compounded. A split lip turned into a slight concussion, turned into a cracked rib, turned into a gunshot wound to your leg. You felt like a caged dog, unable to help yourself, praying to whatever God watched over this version of the world to send some sort of help. Finally, after a week of being adrift, he found you. You had holed up in an old storage unit, locked from the inside, he jumped you home and spent time fussing over you. He’d tried to get you back to the citadel, but you fought and he relented. He took your watch and ran a quick diagnostic, looking into the code that made up the technology. He found nothing but broken lines. He disconnected Lyla soon thereafter. Jess had rang in that they were trying to fix whatever issues came up, but the damage was done. Miguel promised to come back, but the amount of glitching you’d suffered meant you had to stay at home - alone.

#spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #req #anon

[ficsforeren]

Our Little Secret - Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Spider-Man/Spider-Girl AU, Fluff, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger, a 21-year-old virgin college student who loves his camera a little bit too much, has a crush on you. Every night, he switches on his camera and talks about you but he never could find the courage to speak to you in real life. Strangely enough, he finds it easy for him to befriend Spider-Girl, the crime fighting vigilante, not knowing that you both share the same identity.

Chapter Summary: Due to some miracle, Eren finally gets to go on a date with you, and you look so pretty, so cute, he doesn't know if he can survive the night without drooling all over his shirt. He doesn't know that you're Spider-Girl, the same woman he's been spending so many wonderful hours together. You want him to find out about it, but at the same time, you know it's wiser not to say a word. But when one thing leads to another... Can you really keep yourself silent?

Content Warnings: explicit sex scene (happens at the end of the series, can be skipped if you want), swearing, mentions of characters going through depression, traumatic past events

Word Count: 10k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart on Twitter

The Coffee Club. 8 PM. 

My first date ever.

The last time Eren ever felt this excited in his life was when his brother Zeke accidentally left his credit card on the coffee table. It was the best day of his twenty years of living, truly. Eren spent five hundred bucks to get himself a geometric wolf tattoo on his left forearm, and a full black tribal band tattoo on his right bicep. He wasted a few hundred more just to be a dick and get back at his brother for catching his private session on camera.

When Eren came home later that night with the biggest wicked grin and a shopping bag practically the size of his fridge, Zeke swore that from that day on, they were no longer brothers. “Oh no, I’m going to cry,” Eren faked a pout and a whine, going as far as puffing out his cheeks and pushing out his lower lip, but when he slapped back his credit card to his brother’s chest, Eren tossed him a demonic smirk. “Fine with me, Monke.” Zeke tried his very best to ignore his baby brother for, at least, a month. But only two days had passed and he came barging into his brother’s bedroom, hugged him from behind—causing Eren’s character on screen to get shot by this jackass named Noobmaster 92 (fuck you, Noobmaster92)—and cried out, “Please tell me you still love me! PLEASE TELL ME YOU STILL LOVE ME, EREN!”

So, yeah, that happened. Wait, what were we talking about again?

Oh, right! The date!

Eren has fantasized about going on a date with you ever since he got his first wet dream (he got it pretty early when he was still, like, twelve—probably because he kept stealing Zeke’s hentai mangas and read them in secret). At that time, the only female he had ever interacted with so intensely in real life was the little girl he met during his stay at the hospital (a.k.a you). Eren knew he had a crush on you from the start. He just didn’t know that he was down for you so bad that you began to take form in his dreams too. 

To be honest, if he could select the girl he was going to have sex with in his dream as easily as he picked a character in his favorite game, he wouldn’t have chosen you. Of course, he would love to see himself, for the lack of a better word, fucking you in his dreams. Hell, maybe God would be kind and He would let you motorboat your tits too. But his dreams are filthy. Even filthier than his wildest imaginations and that’s saying something. And you don’t deserve to be treated like a prostitute or a sex doll. You’re a princess in his eyes—a goddess even, and that’s why you need to be worshiped. He wants to make love to you, not just to fuck your brains out in the nearest alley. Fucking is for bunnies. Or Muffin and that ugly pug that keeps trying to get inside his backyard just to get a quick hump. Eren isn’t like them. Eren is—

Damn it, we keep getting sidetracked. 

So, about his date.

Eren has his thumb between his lips, teeth grinding against his nail as he sits on the bench that stands right across from the coffee shop where you’re supposed to be meeting him soon. He takes a glance at his phone screen, a smile naturally graces his lips when he sees his wallpaper—your pretty eyes looking like the most beautiful pair of crescents, your lips pulled back in the cutest grin. He notices that he’s an hour early (poor boy is too excited for his date), and that means he has to wait for another hour with his leg bouncing restlessly against the concrete, his nose turning a shade redder every time the night breeze kisses his cheeks. Spring is about to come to an end in a few more weeks, and yet here he is, still shivering like a baby deer.

He’s okay with being cold, he just doesn’t like it when the wind blows too hard because my Lord Jesus, I love you, but I spent literally an hour of my life trying to style my hair like this, so can you take it easy with the wind tonight, please? Thanks. It’s really nothing special, actually. He just tied his hair up like usual but instead of sporting that messy man-bun because he didn’t care, he’s going with the stylishly messy man-bun, as in he spent an hour in front of his bathroom mirror trying to trim and comb his hair here and there to make it seem like it already looks that good even without him doing anything. He had to watch a thirty-minute-long tutorial video called “How to Get a Man Bun like Jungkook from BTS” on YouTube to get his hair done right. 

He’s dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a slim-fit white sweater, a nice jacket to keep him warm, and a great pair of boots instead of his usual sneakers to showcase effort. Eren still low-key thinks that he should’ve worn his suit but then again, he doesn’t want to seem too overdressed.

He’s brought you some flowers, a whole-ass bouquet called Grape Bubblegum, full of sweet colors and matches—the most playful type of bouquet, they said. The florist told him, “Judging from your story, I can tell she’s a very energetic person so I believe this one suits her best. I can guarantee that she's going to have the biggest smile on her face when you give this to her. That’s the best way to start your romantic journey together, don’t you agree?” It’s most likely bullshit—just another one of her marketing scams—but Eren snapped his fingers in the air, shouting, “Bitch, I’m sold. Take my fucking money.” Of course, he didn’t actually curse. Eren would never do that to older people. To his three years older brother Zeke? Sure, yeah, definitely. But to a sweet, sweet old woman who looked like she needed to settle in a retirement home for good? Nope.

Of course, Grape Bubblegum doesn’t look as playful and beautiful anymore when some jackass—who probably weighed a hundred pounds more than he was—accidentally sat on it on the bus. Never in his life had Eren ever felt like he was about to commit genocide from the amount of rage burning in his chest, but at that time, he really did. But no, instead of lashing out, he just said, “Dude, get off my flowers!” The two pink roses—which are supposed to be the highlight of Grape Bubblegum—are ruined but Eren continues to hold the bouquet close to his chest, not knowing what else to do since he hasn’t prepared another gift for you. 

Should I run to the nearest store and grab some chocolates for her? He thinks, biting harder against his nail with his eyes glaring at his dark combat boots. No, that would make me look like I'm being half-assed about it. God, that’s the last thing I wanna do—to look like I’m—

“Hey, you’re early.”

“—BEING HALF-ASSED!” Eren jumps from his seat, his mouth spouting the last line that runs through his head as he’s shocked by the sight of you standing not a meter away from him. You’re just as surprised, taking a step back in reflex to avoid his head bumping against your chin. 

“Sorry,” you say, raising both hands in the air to calm him down. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Eren didn’t catch a single second of sleep last night trying to come up with the right words to say upon your first meeting. He has prepared a whole speech, something that goes along the line of: “Hey, you came. You look so beautiful. Is that a new dress? Looks pretty on you. Me? No, I just got here. Oh, right, almost forgot, I bought you some flowers. No, it’s okay, it’s nothing. My aunt is a florist so it really wasn’t a big deal. I just hope you’ll like them. You do? You love them? Oh, thank God. I was really nervous about this whole date. Yesterday was a mess and I don’t want to repeat that mistake again. Why am I going this far for a first date, you ask? Well… Isn’t it obvious? I really like you. You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I adore you with all my heart. Everything you do drives me insane and I just hope you’ll give me the chance to be closer to you. To understand you better. And to make you feel… my love.”

Okay, maybe it was a bit too much for a greeting—and corny too, probably, but if Adele could sing that line in a song, why can’t he say it to the girl who owns his heart? Nevertheless, it would still be a thousand times better than him spitting on your face—almost literally—while shouting, “BEING HALF-ASSED!”

“What did you mean about being half-assed?” And you had to ask about it too. Great. You could’ve just let him go, saved his poor soul by pretending like you didn’t hear him. But no, you just had to humiliate him even further this way. Because that’s where you find your enjoyment, isn’t it?

Eren, as he tries his best to stop himself from lying down on the pavement—crying his heart out—offers the bouquet to you with a pout and his shoulders sagging forward. You blink twice, a bit stunned as you’ve never received flowers on a first date before. You thought it was going to be a casual date—just two friends hanging out, trading coquettish smiles and flirty banter over a cup of coffee. But no, apparently for Eren, this is serious.

“Some fat guy sat on them when I was on the bus,” Eren murmurs with his chin tucked, his invisible puppy ears going down. “I’m sorry. I wanted to buy you something else but I was afraid I wasn’t going to make it on time for our date. I thought about getting you chocolates from the store, but I didn’t want to seem like I was being—"

“Half-assed about it,” you finish, accepting the flowers from his hands. Happiness glows inside you. He doesn’t need to bring you flowers to make you smile. Just seeing him like this, with his blush painting his cheeks and a pout growing prominent on his face, this is enough. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to bring me anything. I already feel so happy knowing that you put that much thought into it. I’m sorry I didn’t bring you anything.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.”

“Is there anything I could do for you?” You offer him a benign smile. “Is there anything you want me to do?”

Eren swallows, his mind coming up with a thousand different answers at once. Of course, he has something he wants you to do for him. He has a lot of things he wants you to do, to him, for him, and with him. But one thought stands more vividly than the rest, especially when he rakes his eyes over your appearance. You’re wearing a soft pink trench coat above your black skirt and chiffon blouse, and a pair of boots that accentuate your legs. On top of your hair is a beanie—the cutest one he’s ever seen—to keep yourself warm, and a patterned navy blue scarf to protect your neck from the night wind. You look like you’re walking out of a romantic movie, a true heroine of a beautiful love story.

 “Can I, umm…” He tightens his grip around the strap of his bag that’s hanging on one shoulder. “Can I take your picture? I-if you don’t mind.”

“You mean right now?” You look around to take a quick scan of your surroundings. A few people are walking down the pavements, mostly young couples sharing giggles between conversations as they hold each other’s hands. 

Eren notices how you seem a bit uncomfortable by the thought of striking poses in public. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he hastily adds.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, smoothening down your skirt. You move closer to the streetlamp to get better lighting, standing a bit awkwardly as you hold his flower tightly in your hands. “Like this? Let me know if I look weird, okay?”

“You’re beautiful,” he says without even giving a second for his brain to digest your words. Retrieving his DSLR camera from his bag, he takes off his lens cover and offers you a sheepish smile. “You’ll always look beautiful to me, no matter what you do. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“That’s…” You can already feel your heart pounding like a drum and your date just started literally seven minutes ago. “That’s too much, but thank you.”

Seeing how your usually confident self is turning diffident, Eren feels his cheeks getting warmer. Ah, she’s so cute, he wants to shout it to the world. “I will, umm,” he clears her throat, bringing his camera closer to his face. “I will just—“

“Yeah, just take it.”

It feels so awkward having him take pictures of you on the street like this as you are more accustomed to striking poses while keeping your identity hidden underneath your Spider-Girl costume. You feel bare and exposed, feeling how intense his gaze is even from behind his camera. After a few clicks, Eren brings his device down, taking a quick look at the photos.

“Do they come out nice?” You ask him.

“Yes.” He seems immensely pleased, looking like he just had his wish granted after years of waiting, which in a way, is true. “You look perfect.”

Ignoring the way your stomach somersault from his comment, you take a stride toward him. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who gets photographed over here.” Eren watches you take out your phone from your coat pocket. “Can I? To commemorate our first date.”

 Eren, realizing what you’re planning to do, nods shakily. “S-sure.” Never in his life had he thought he would have the chance to take a selfie together with you but there he is, standing close enough for him to get a waft of your shampoo. 

“Maybe it’s better if you hold it since you’re taller than me,” you say and he nods again. His words have left him for good. Your scent’s too intoxicating for him to think.

Taking a hold of your phone, he bends down a little to fit his face right next to yours in the frame. “Okay, uhh, on three,” he says, sounding noticeably nervous and you refrain yourself from giggling. “One, two…” He taps his thumb twice on your phone’s screen before he hands it back to you. You take a look at them together, with Eren, who’s standing close behind you, grimacing right away at the sight. “Ugh, I look so weird.”

“No, you’re cute,” you correct him, turning his body stiff when you suddenly look up at him. The proximity you’re in is the closest you’ve ever been to him, and while you do feel your heartbeat escalating just a tad faster, Eren’s is soaring through the roof. “You’re the cutest boy I’ve ever taken a selfie with. Thank you, Eren.” 

“Umm, yeah…” You can see his eyes drift down to your lips before he averts his gaze. “Y-you’re welcome.”

“Is it okay if we take another one?”

She’s planning to kill me, she really is. “Sure.”

Eren is somewhat right because you do have a plan, not to kill him, just… tease him a little bit. “Ready? One, two…” Right as he clicks the shutter button on your screen, you stand on your toes and plant a kiss on his cheek. Eren’s eyes widen in surprise, the camera catches a picture of it. Your phone nearly slips out of his grip when he backs away from you, face flushed. “What—why—did you just—” he stammers, his thoughts scattering all over the place.

Giggling, you snatch back your phone from his hand, going through your gallery. “Hey, it looks perfect!” You chirp gleefully while Eren is still trying to collect himself. You hook a hand around his arm, tugging him close until his shoulder bumps against yours. “Don’t we look cute together?” You show him the picture of you looking like nothing but a pair of lovers with scarlet cheeks and an innocent kiss. Eren is blushing hard enough for his ears to buzz. He still can’t believe this is happening. “Do you want me to send the pictures to you?”

He gives three little timid nods. “Y-yes, please.”

Cute, cute, cute, cute, he’s so cute. “Okay, done. Now we can have matching wallpapers if you want.”

Fourteen minutes into the date and this is already the best thing that’s ever happened in his life. 

As he places back his camera into his bag, You take a moment to breathe in the scent of roses and lavender from the bouquet he’s given you. You have the most radiant, expressive smile breaking on your lips as you close your eyes, reveling in the fragrance.

Watching you like this… Eren feels his heart singing again. You look so small, so delicate. Graceful too with your fingers pushing a lock of your hair so it won’t fall over your face. You leave him dizzy, breathless even, just by the mere sight of you looking up at him from underneath your lashes. “I’ll put this in a vase when I get home. They say fresh flowers could last up to twelve days if you take care of them properly. I’ll try my best to make them last.”

God, you would look so pretty in a wedding dress. “Y-you don’t have to. I will get you new flowers when they’ve withered away. I can send you a bouquet every week if you want.”

“How very committed of you,” you croon, pursing your lips in a way that makes his flush spread to his ears. “Why don’t we just focus on getting through the night for now? If you’re on your best behavior, maybe we can arrange a second date.” You don’t even have to add a wink to give him a heart attack. Your words already did that for you.

“I—Really?”

“Yes,” you chuckle, amused by how his entire face just brightened at the thought. “By the way, when did you get here? I thought I was early but you already got here before me. Did you wait long?”

“N-no.” He looks away, rubbing the tip of his nose. “I just got here.”

You’re a terrible liar. “And when was that exactly?”

“About…” He grows nervous under your gaze. Wincing, he decides to tell the truth. “An hour ago?”

“Oh my God—really? Why didn’t you go inside the coffee house? It’s freezing out here.”

“I’m not cold.” He tries to convince you by straightening his back, even though his hands are shivering inside the pockets of his jacket.  

“Your nose is red, dummy.” You shake your head, pushing back the bouquet to his chest. “Hold the flowers for me?” 

“Umm, okay,” he complies although his forehead creases in confusion. “What are you—”

Without waiting for him to finish, you quickly untangle your scarf, standing on your toes to hook the wooly fabric around his neck. Eren holds his breath, his eyes turning round. Tugging him closer by the scarf, you force his body to lean toward you. He catches a whiff of the perfume you wore for the night, even when the wind is blowing hard enough to raise the tiny hairs on his nape—or maybe it’s because of how close you are to him. 

You toss him a smile, feeling satisfied when you witness how much effects you have on him. “Do you know how to tie a Parisian scarf knot?”

Your voice is thick with charm in his ears, melodious and a bit… seductive. He swallows his breath, fingers curling into fists as he tries to stop his eyes from wandering anywhere else but your eyes. Your lips look so inviting, but he doesn’t want to look more obvious than he already does. “No, Ma’am.” He discovers his voice again after spending what feels like forever trying to process your question.

“Well, it’s really easy. Fold your scarf in half widthwise.” You practice directly on him, doing the same thing your lips instructed you to. “Then fold in half again lengthwise. Drape the scarf over your neck, and then—bend down a little for me?” 

Eren’s face is burning bright but he follows. This time, he can’t stop himself from gazing at your lips. He can tell that you’re wearing a different shade of lipstick tonight. You keep your make-up to a minimum but you applied bold red lipstick to grab his attention. And boy, you didn’t just steal his attention. You’re taking his entire breath away. 

“Then you bring the loose ends through the hole,” you continue, pretending like you’re oblivious to the thoughts of him wanting to get a taste of your lip gloss. “Tighten the scarf around your neck and voila.” You beam at him with a youthful grin, patting your hands once against his chest. “There you have it. A Parisian scarf knot. Does it feel warm, big boy?”

Warm? He’s about to burst into fucking flames. He shakily nods. “Yes, Ma’am, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you grin, taking the flowers back from him.

“What about you?” Eren asks, eyebrows stitched in concern. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No, the scarf was just an accessory.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you’re that worried,” you roll your eyes playfully at him, shifting the bouquet to your right hand while you offer him your left one. “Here.”

Eren just stares at it like the idiot that he is. “Umm… Do you want your scarf back?”

“No, silly.” You snatch away his hand, lacing your fingers together before you bring them inside the pocket of your trench coat. Eren’s jaw hangs slack on his face but he’s not given the time to react when you take a step forward, walking toward the path you were coming from.

Eren, low-key panicking (actually, maybe high-key), follows after your trail as he’s left with no choice. His hand is probably sweaty and gross but you hold it firmly as if he’s the other set of puzzles you need to complete you. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” He asks with a quiver in his voice. “L-like, your hand in my pocket instead of mine in yours?”

“True, but let’s not get too predictable.” This time, you do hurl a wink at him and a little bit of his soul just ascends to heaven. 

“Where are we going?” He tries not to think too much about how your hand fits his perfectly or how delightfully warm you are. “I thought we were going to get coffee?”

“I’ve changed my mind. We’re gonna catch a movie instead. You like watching movies, right? Except for the scary ones.”

“Yeah…” But then he furrows his eyebrows, suspicion in his gaze. “Wait, how do you know I don’t like scary movies?”

Oh, shoot. “Well, I mean…” You hope your giggle would be enough to mask how tense you are. “I… have been doing research about you.” What am I even saying? “I mean, I’ve had my eyes on you for a while too. Isn’t it natural for me to want to know what interests you and what doesn't?” Okay, to be fair, that makes a lot of sense but God, that was so embarrassing!

But if your goal is to divert his attention away from the topic, it works perfectly. Right now, Eren is taking a trip over the moon, his spirits flying high at the thought of you asking around about him because you’re interested in him. “Do you, umm…” He wets his lip, his heart thrashing wildly inside his rib cages. “Do you… have a crush on me?”

Are you for real right now?! Who asks that kind of question?! But you’ve got no other choice but to say yes. You have to make your previous sentence believable, don’t you? And it’s not like you’re lying about it. You do have a crush on him. Actually, it’s even bigger than that. You’re probably in love with him at this point. But admitting it out loud to the person you have feelings for? Doesn’t that mean you’re going to do the same as he did on the rooftop, telling stories about you to Spider-Girl? Except you’re going to sound like a bigger idiot this time since you’re not going to accidentally tell him about your feelings just because you happened to be clueless about his secret identity. Eren’s alter ego is a giant pervert and you already know that from day one, and now you’re going to admit your feelings to him like this.

I hate myself.

You sigh, glaring into the night as you admit bashfully, “Yeah. Kinda.” Ah, I want to die.

You’re not sure what you expect him to say. Maybe you want him to be honest too? Make this a little less awkward and humiliating by saying, “That’s good because I have a crush on you too. And it’s so bad that I had to jerk off to your pictures and tell the town’s most famous superheroine about it.” or something like that. But of course, that only happens in your mind because now silence comes third-wheeling on your date, and you’re this close to shooting your web and swinging away from the scene.

Then you hear him sniffling.

Spinning your head so fast, you almost give yourself a head rush. “Are you crying right now?”

He is. He so is. Well, not actually crying like how he bawled his eyes out when he watched Hachiko—that movie had no business being that sad and depressing. But yes, Eren may have gotten a little bit emotional by your confession. Could you really blame him, though? Adoring someone from afar for two fucking years without doing anything but secretly taking your pictures is not an easy feat. Eren really thought he would never find the chance to talk to you, let alone go on a date with you like this. And now you’re telling him you’ve got a crush on him too? 

“N-no,” he mumbles, tossing his face to the side as he rubs the back of his hand against his nose. “I’m just—I’m cold.”

“You literally just said you weren’t cold.”

“Yeah, but that was just me trying to look strong.” He sniffles again. “I’m actually very sensitive to cold.”

He really can’t lie to save his life, but that attempt deserves a reward so you bump your shoulder against his in a playful manner, letting out the softest laugh as you do. “You’re blushing so hard right now, I can tell.”

“I know,” he admits with his head hanging low. “I’m so pathetic.”

“I think you’re adorable.”

“C-calling a grown-ass man adorable isn’t really a compliment, you know.”

“And yet, it makes you blush even harder. I say it is, big boy.”

Your smirk is supposed to seem evil but to Eren, you just look so titillating, his brain immediately takes a snapshot of your expression for his, uhh… late-night entertainment. “You’re going to kill me someday,” he mutters, his pout returning to his lips.

“Well…” You release his hand only to hug his arm against your chest, your cheek grazing against the fabric of his jacket as you walk side by side with barely a centimeter separating you. “Let’s just hope someone will be there to save you.”

At this rate, even Quicksilver can’t be fast enough to save him from dying. “You’re a dangerous woman.”

***

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”

That’s what you’ve been saying for the last fifteen minutes as you walk out of the theater with one hand holding your bouquet and another one cupping your face, fingers tapping lightly against your cheek so it would stop feeling like it’s catching on fire. 

You had a plan. A very thorough plan involving you leaning your head against his shoulder as you both watched a romantic movie playing on the big screen; you giving him signs that it would be okay for him to hold your hand and maybe, just maybe, he could lean in to kiss you too. Not wanting to sound desperate or anything, but you have been thinking about doing intimate things with him for a while, especially after he confessed his whole feelings to you—well, to Spider-Girl—on the rooftop two nights ago. You can’t help it. After knowing that he likes you so much, it’s impossible for you not to expect something to happen tonight. Especially since you knew that he’s been thinking about you in sexual ways too. If he had one hand wrapped around his dick just from being aroused at the thought of you, obviously he would want to do something more than hold hands, wouldn’t he?

You’re both still in your early twenties. It’s natural to have your hormones going crazy at the thought of being in the dark with a cute boy. Boys might not know this, but girls think about sex just as much as boys do, don’t they? It’s been a while since you’ve let loose and made out with a handsome quarterback at the back of his car. It doesn’t help that you’re still a virgin too, just like Eren. You have a desire burning inside you, and an endless amount of curiosity needing to be answered. But it’s not just physical contact that you crave, it’s the emotional bond too. You want to feel like you’re in love. You want to be loved, and Eren, you know for certain, has so much of that to give you. If only you had followed your plan, you might have been able to have all that. Because the movie date was supposed to be cute, with him stealing glances and gazing at you with those lovestruck eyes every time he caught you smiling at him, but no, what happened was—

“I think it’s cute that you were already snoring in the first ten minutes,” Eren simpers. 

Fire burns your cheeks. “I did not snore.”

“You did. Pretty loudly too. There was this couple sitting in front of us that kept looking back to check up on you.”

“Oh my God.” You rub a hand over your face, hiding your lower half behind your palm. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Eren laughs wholeheartedly, placing his hand above your head just like how a big brother would tease his sister. “Guess being the top student can be pretty hard, huh?”

Being a top student? Nah. Running around the town catching drug dealers and stopping car chases at three in the morning? Yeah, probably. “I’m so sorry,” you vocalize with regret in your tone. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Studying?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “There’s this science olympics I have to participate in next month and I’ve got so many things to prepare. I need to land first place or my dad’s gonna kill me. My body must have given up on me.”

He stops walking, taking your hand so naturally this time that it leaves you—the one who took the initiative—flustered. “Are you okay?” He asks, concern overtaking his face. “I can take you home if you want to rest. We don’t have to do this tonight.”

Your heart melts a little. He’s always like this. So attentive, so caring, putting your needs above everything else. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “I slept like a baby for two hours just now—I’m fully recharged. Thank you for lending me your shoulder the whole time. Is your arm okay?”

“Yeah,” he tosses you his lopsided grin. “Just a bit smelly ‘cause you drooled all over my jacket.”

“Shut up!”

Conversations start to flow naturally as you both grow more comfortable with each other’s presence. The initial awkwardness has vanished without a trace, transforming into a sense of familiarity that shrouds you as if you were two friends who had been spending time together for weeks. Which, of course, you are, but Eren doesn’t know this. 

He doesn’t blush so often anymore but you, on the other hand, are becoming worse and worse in that department. The more comfortable he is with you, the more honest he becomes, and the more he feels like he can say anything he wants to say. He told you how he really liked it when you wore your hair up in a ponytail, how it made you look sporty and fresh, and even a bit sexy (he still turned red at the last part, but he didn’t stammer like a five-year-old trying to tell a story). He told you how he liked the scent of your strawberry shampoo—how it suited your sweet and cheerful personality, and how he always thought of you these days when he was out shopping for groceries and he saw strawberries sitting on the fruit counter. He told you that you have a beautiful laugh, the kind that can elevate people’s moods, like sunshine seeping through dark clouds. Everything he says sends blood pooling on your face. It doesn’t help that he never lets go of your hand as you walk down the street, doing the same thing you did to him earlier—interlacing your fingers together and sticking them inside the pocket of his coat.

“Warm?” He asks, his smile is sheepish but his pretty green eyes are radiant, glimmering under the city lights.

You nod, heart palpitating. This doesn’t feel like a first date. It feels like you’ve been lovers for months. 

How perfect is this? Fate came in to introduce you to one another when you were children, and now it’s doing the same thing by reuniting you with him again. Not to mention that your alter ego, Spider-Girl, also met him by accident and now she’s playing a huge part in his life as well. It’s like the universe wants you to be together. But as you fall harder for him with every second passing by, Eren is feeling the opposite.

Unbeknownst to you, Eren hasn’t been a hundred percent honest tonight. He’s said the things he wanted to say but there are still some matters that he holds to himself, and that is the fact that he keeps seeing Spider-Girl in everything you do.

It’s weird. Maybe even sickening at some point. Because how can he think about another girl when he’s going on a date with the girl he’s been secretly in love with for years? He can see Spider-Girl in the little gestures that you make. The way your hands move animatedly in the air when you get too excited as you retell your story; the way you snort and say something witty or sarcastic whenever he’s being a little bit corny. But ultimately, Spider-Girl comes alive in his mind every time you laugh. He can hear it. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine it was Spider-Girl who was chortling at his joke. Even the little giggles you let out ring familiarly in his ears too. 

But why? Why can’t he stop thinking about her when he’s with you? This isn’t right. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. He’s supposed to be head over heels for you and only you. Eren shouldn’t let himself feel like this for a second longer but the more he tries to forget about Spider-Girl, the more his mind does the opposite. 

There are two logical explanations to elucidate the emotion he’s going through: a) for some bizarre reason, you are indeed Spider-Girl herself or b) he’s…

I’m in love with Spider-Girl too. 

Eren feels something weird crawling up his chest, something he can’t really describe. It feels both like dread and also joy. It feels so wrong to admit it to himself, feels even worse that he just realized it now. He’s trying so hard not to believe it that he forces himself to return and think further about his first option.

You’re Spider-Girl. God, even saying it in his head already sounds so ridiculous to him. How can you, one of the university’s best students, have the time to fight crimes? Or even the motivation to sacrifice your life every night to fight a gang of mafias or the Lizard? You just said it yourself that you had to stay up all night to prepare for the olympics. Plus, You’re so different compared to Spider-Girl. You’re much more feminine, even clumsy at times too, while Spider-Girl is this badass fighter with fast reflexes and superhuman strength. Of course, you being clumsy is just a part of your cover, but how could Eren know that? How could he know that the personality you’re showing right now is a part of the illusion you create to make you seem more normal? You’re not this feminine. You’re not this graceful. You don’t laugh with a hand covering your lips to be polite. You laugh with your head thrown back and your eyes shut closed. The real you—the one who has your true personality—is Spider-Girl.

“Hey, are you okay?” Even with your gentle call, Eren still flinches as if you just shouted at him. “You’ve been quiet for a while. What’s wrong?”

He’s staring at you like he’s seeing a ghost and for a moment, you feel your chest tightening too. Has he realized it? Has he figured out that I’m Spider-Girl? Fuck, what gave me away? I thought I was being careful all night. But that’s not it. Eren isn’t panicking because he’s learned the truth about your identity. He’s freaking out because he’s starting to believe that he really is in love with two women at the same time.

This is bad, he thinks, fidgeting as the words sink even harder. This is so bad. 

“N-nothing, sorry,” he forces out a laugh. “Should we go, umm, get some coffee?”

***

“I had a great time today,” you say, turning around on your heels to face him with the sweetest smile you can offer. Standing on the crosswalk, your bodies are bathed in the yellowish glow of the lamppost, two pairs of eyes locking together as the world turns blurry behind you. The digital clock on your phone screen shows that it’s a few minutes away before midnight strikes. The peaceful town has turned quiet. Stores are closed. Most of the locals have returned to their families, all warmed up in the serenity of their homes. There are still a few cars passing by, shining headlights and casting shadows to stretch under your feet. It would’ve been comforting, this atmosphere between you, if your heartbeat didn’t chime so clamorously in your ears.

You’re still struggling to wash away the anxiety in your chest, worried that he’s found out about your secret. But if he did, why doesn’t he say so? Is he waiting for you to make the first move and tell him the truth? It doesn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t he be happy to know that you were the same girl who’d spent countless hours with him, talking your heart out every night? Or is he embarrassed over the fact that you already knew about the feelings he had for you—the real version of you?

Oh no, you almost gasp in shock. What if he’s angry at me for keeping my identity a secret? What if he’s upset that I didn’t stop him when he talked about his crush—about me? What if he thinks I’m annoying for messing around with him? What if he hates me now?

Your head is going round and round and round that you feel like you’re on the verge of throwing up. But when you tilt up your chin to meet his gaze, Eren doesn’t seem like he’s vexed. Rather than angry, he just seems… conflicted. About what, you’re not so sure.

“Me too.” Eren smiles, answering your earlier question. Now that you’re about to part ways, he releases your hand. It feels strange to have spaces between your fingers again, as you’ve grown too comfortable from having his lean ones filling the gaps. “Thank you for lending me your scarf. I’ll wash it before I return it to you.”

“You can have it.” You beam at him, hoping that it would look natural. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

He still turns abashed like he always does, but it doesn’t last long. The next time you blink, he returns to his distraught state.

You’re both too caught up in your own thoughts to form words but you’re recovering faster than he is. With turmoil sitting heavily inside your chest, you feebly ask him, “Is there… something wrong?”

He blinks. “What?”

“It’s just…” You take in a sharp breath. “I feel like something is bothering you, and I keep rewinding everything that we did, trying to figure out what I did wrong but… Are you angry at me..?”

His brain stutters for a moment, every part of him goes on pause as his thoughts catch up. Shit, what have I done? “Nothing’s bothering me!” Eren claims a little bit louder than intended. “I’m so sorry for making you feel worried. I’m not angry at you—I would never—you could never anger me. I’m just… I have some… thoughts, that’s all.”

Okay, that’s a relief. You can sense honesty both in his voice and his expression. “About what? If that’s okay to ask…”

Eren bites on the corner of his lower lip, anxious. “I’m—” He parts his lips but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say to her? I’m in love with you but I feel like I’m also in love with someone else? “I…”

It’s nerve-wracking to see him this way and you can’t stand the tension. What if he’s about to say something you don’t want to hear? “You know what, never mind, it’s okay.” You end your sentence quickly with a peal of laughter that sounds too strained even in your own ears. “I didn’t mean to pry. So, uhh…” You hook your hands between your back, fingers tied around the bouquet to stop him from seeing how jittery you are. “Do you… Do you still want to do this again?”

“Yes,” Eren answers instantly, his breath quickening for some reason. “Yeah, of course. If you want to, I would love to go out with you again.” Maybe if I spend more time with her, I can make sure of my feelings. “I really enjoyed our date tonight. Truly.”

Your smile is genuine but it doesn’t lift the heavy anchor resting in your chest. “Cool. Maybe next time we can have, like, a study date? Finals are coming up soon. We can study at your place if you want.”

“M-my place?” He asks, stupefied. “Umm… Okay. Just the two of us?”

“Do you want me to invite someone else?” You wanted to tease him but your tone sounds flat as if you’re enervated.

Eren’s fingers curl against the side of his jeans. “No…”

“Then I guess it’s just gonna be you and me. I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow, actually. I’m free after I’m done with my ballet practice. Maybe… I can visit your house after that?”

Eren gives two little nervous nods. “O-or I can just pick you up? I’ll borrow Zeke’s bike and we can grab some takeouts before we go to my—” He clears his throat, face aflame. “My house.”

“Okay.” You didn’t feel awkward at all during the date, and now awkwardness is all you feel. “Okay, yeah, that sounds great.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again for the flowers.” Your eyes shift to the same spot of his skin where you brushed your lips against just a few hours before. It’s supposed to be easier the second time, but now you can’t even lean close to give him a friendly hug. Restraining a sigh from fleeing out of your mouth, you toss him one last smile before you pivot on your heels.

“Wait,” Eren calls out, his fingers clamping your wrist. “Let me walk you home, please.” 

“No, it’s all right, I’ll take a cab.” You tug your hand gently, enough for him to get the message and let you go. He’s about to protest when you repeat, “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

The roles are now reversed. Eren can tell there’s something you’re hiding behind your smile, but he’s too much of a coward to use his voice. What if you feel like he’s invading your privacy too much? 

There he goes again, worrying. You realize maybe you’ve come out a bit too strong. Gathering as much courage as you can, you take two quick steps toward him, yank him down by his scarf and place another kiss on his cheek. You can hear him stifling down his gasp as you sweep your lips against his smooth skin. When you break away a second later, you keep your fingers around his scarf, keeping his face hovering just a couple of inches away from yours as you whisper, “Good night.”

Bewitched by your beauty, he finds it hard to breathe. “G-good night.”

You release him. Your smile will be an everlasting memory in his mind. And as you walk away, Eren keeps his eyes trained on your figure.

There’s no doubt that he loves you. Otherwise, how else can he explain this rapid beating of his heart every time he caught a glimpse of you? How else can he explain this sense of elation and gratitude that flowed through him every time you cast him a smile? But why…

Why can’t I stop thinking about her?

Why can’t I stop thinking about Spider-Girl?

***

Eren has been spending the last twenty minutes of his bus ride home just staring at the window with vacant eyes and a storm churning inside his chest. He has taken off the knitted scarf you wound around his neck, his fingers laid idle on the wool as he sets it down on his lap. The scent of your perfume still lingers close but instead of giving him the sense of longing to see you again, it leaves him at sixes and sevens. He thought joy would be the only thing that filled the depth of his heart after his first date with you but now it seems like it’s something intangible. Every time he thinks about you, he thinks about Spider-Girl too, and remorse floods his chest. He folds the scarf and tucks it inside his bag, hoping that he could wash away the guilt that way, even if it’s only for a moment.

As he walks away from his bus stop, Eren retrieves his camera from his bag and wears the black strap around his neck. With his shoulders hunched forward, he switches it on and goes through the pictures he’s taken of you a while ago. His smile still blooms on his face at the sight of you smiling a bit awkwardly to the camera, but it’s faint, barely visible. He clicks on the same button repeatedly, going from one picture to another until his gaze lands on the candid photos of Spider-Girl that he took. He feels his heart jolt. Flashback of the night you shared with him on the rooftop—the way you sounded when you laughed, the retorts you made as he told you his jokes… His smile turns a bit wider this time. For the first time in his life, remembering Spider-Girl spreads more contentment in his chest than the thoughts of you.

Because to him, Spider-Girl feels more… real.

Thunder rumbles above his head, flashing silver light across the night sky. Knowing how it’s about to rain, Eren swerves to the right, stepping inside an abandoned alley that he’s walked a thousand times in his life. It’s a shortcut that takes him right to the road that leads to his house. He’s never bothered by how eerie and quiet it is, not even perplexed by the thought of being alone in the dark with only the moonlight guiding his steps. Except the moon is hidden behind the dark clouds tonight, and he fastens his steps, trying to get home as fast as possible before his body is drenched by the rain.

But he’s forced to slow down the second he crosses paths with a few men covered in tattoos and piercings. 

A man, a few inches shorter than he is with bleached hair, purposefully bumps his shoulder against his, almost causing his camera to slip off his grip. Eren stops walking, lifting his head as the other man turns around to cast him a wicked grin. The other three males sneer, tossing their cigarettes away to the ground and crushing them under their boots. 

“What do you have over there, champ?” The man with the bleached hair asks, yellowish teeth peeking behind chapped lips. “Looks expensive.”

Eren’s cautious eyes drift down to catch him sliding his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie. He’s probably going for his knife, a voice inside him tells him to be prepared. Eren feels his muscles tautening, his heart gradually pumping more blood through his veins as the four men begin to circle him, leaving him with no way to escape.

“Hand us the camera,” another man says, this one has a barcode tattoo on the side of his neck. “We’re gonna need your phone and your wallet too.”

Rain starts to pour. Eren feels the droplets sliding down his cheeks before he can see them. Switching off his camera, he tightens his grip around it. “Look, man,” he says, “I don’t want any trouble here.”

“Give me the camera then.” The tallest one among them suddenly takes a closer step, giving him no choice but to back away. He has his spine glued to the wall, his heart pounding in his ears but he keeps his jaw clenched tight.

“No,” Eren utters through gritted teeth, and within a split second, the taller male has a pocket knife pressed against his throat.

“I wasn’t asking,” he says, voice hoarse and grating. 

Eren doesn’t blink or cower in fear. He faces the man right in his eyes. “Ganging up on me like this. What are you, a bunch of pussies?”

“You fucking—”

Eren knees the man right between his legs hard enough to give him a moment to escape. He ducks his head down, the tip of the man’s knife only missing a few millimeters from slicing his skin. He knows that his chances of winning the fight are close to zero. So instead of holding his ground, he chooses to flee. Still with his camera dangling around his neck and his bag slinging on one shoulder, Eren sprints away as fast as he can. 

But the ground is dark and slippery under the rain, and he misses his footing. Falling to one knee with his palms scratching against the pavements, Eren gets himself pulled back to his feet by one hand tugging at his roots and another slithering around his throat.

Fuck. Terror rises fast in his chest. His brain can’t think fast enough to find a way for him to escape. One man is holding him from behind, the other two are closing in on him, while the tallest one moves to loom before him.

“You’ve got a pretty face for a man,” the tall man grins, pointing the tip of his blade toward his cheekbone as Eren tries to break free. “Why don’t we put a smile on that face, yeah?”

“Get off me, you fucking—”

The rest of his sentence is followed by a silent gasp when a lump of web shoots over Eren’s shoulder. It covers the tall man’s face with a force hard enough to knock him off his balance before another thick string of web, sticky and unyielding, glues him to the ground, keeping him immobile. Before Eren can process what’s happening, another man falls to the earth with a broken nose, screaming in agony into the night. The man that was holding him from behind has his body smashed against the wall, and Eren can see you—Spider-Girl—aiming your wrist forward and shooting enough chunks of web to trap the man to the bricks behind him. Now that he can’t move, it leaves you one more opponent to take care of.

This is the first time Eren sees you in action. The way you hold your fighting stance; the way you drop down to the ground with one leg bent on the knee and another one stretched out; the way you hold your balance with one hand in the air and your other one settled on the concrete only by your fingertips—you’re beautiful. You’re deadly and graceful at the same time, like a ballet dancer performing the third act of Swan Lake. Within seconds, you knock the last gang member unconscious. Eren is about to call out to you when the man with the broken nose returns to his feet and hooks an arm around his neck.

“Don’t move or I’ll slit his throat,” the man with the bleached hair threatens with his teeth bared, and you freeze. 

The rain is tapping against your hood, your costume glistening but not soaked. You raise your arms in the air, keeping your lips tightly pressed as you straighten your back. You watch Eren through your lenses and you see no fear in his eyes even if the tip of the man’s knife is digging dangerously into his skin. You, on the other hand, are nervous. Fear can turn someone as harmless as a baby lamb into a cornered wolf and by the look of it, this man is terrified by the things you can do. One stupid move and you’ll risk Eren’s life. If the man adds just a little bit more pressure onto his knife, Eren will have his white sweater soaked in red.

“Let him go,” you carefully say, not wanting to startle him.

“Get the fuck out of here,” the man says, his voice muffled by the amount of blood clogging his nose. When you don’t budge, he starts to scream. “Are you deaf?! I said, get the fuck away—”

To his surprise—and yours—Eren slams his elbow against the man’s stomach, successfully knocking the wind out of his lungs in one try. Now that he’s released from his headlock, he grabs the man by the shoulder and takes a small step back to unbalance him. Quickly turning around as he maintains a strong grip on his body, Eren pulls his arm as far over his shoulder as he can. It sends his opponent sailing over his head and landing flat on his back. He finishes with a hard punch to his face and the man is laid out cold on the ground.

Your eyes are wide open, baffled by how swift and precise Eren’s movement was. With that amount of muscle in his body, you could tell that he could win his fight if needed. You just didn’t think that he’d perform a complete martial move on him. 

“Wow,” you say, walking through the rain to get to his spot. “Didn’t think you could pull that kind of stunt. I’m impressed.”

“Fuck, that hurt,” Eren hisses, clenching and unclenching his fist as his knuckles throbs with pain. Massaging his hand, he replies to your comment, “Yeah, I took a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu class one time out of curiosity. That’s the only move I know how to do. Didn’t think it would work.”

“Well, you did great.” Now that you’re just an arm’s reach away from him, you gently take a hold of his wrist, bringing it closer to your face so you can inspect it further. You can feel him stiffen under your touch but none of you act on it. “This is gonna bruise tomorrow. You better treat it before you go to bed. Wrap an ice pack in a towel and leave it in place for about ten to twenty minutes. That will help you reduce the swelling.”

Eren watches the way your fingers move delicately against his, the material of your spandex gliding against his skin as you try to soothe his pain. His heart throbs again but it has nothing to do with the amount of adrenaline that rushed through his system merely a minute ago. 

“Thank you,” he says, his voice as quiet as the rain that still pours lightly above you. “For saving me.”

“Yeah, you have a knack for getting into trouble,” you snort, acting aloof as you don’t want him to witness the amount of relief that washes over you.

“Well, fortunately for me, you seem like you have a knack for saving my life.” Seeing you here, hearing your voice, Eren burns with fierce joy. He turns a bit playful, his heart grows enamored at the sight of you. 

You can sense the changes in his tone and the way his fingers move slightly against yours as if he’s trying not to be so obvious but also giving you a hint that he wants you to hold his hand tighter—to touch him longer.

You release him, not wanting to be ensnared by his spell even further than you already have. You relocate your hand to your hip, scolding him like a mother. “Seriously, I left you for one night and you almost got stabbed to death. Can’t you give me a break?”

“It’s not like I was looking for trouble. Shit just happened.”

“You’re lucky you have me saving your ass.”

“I am. I’m glad I have you with me.” The corners of his mouth turn up, bedazzling you with a saccharine smile until he leaves you dumbfounded, the rest of your body immobile save by the delightful swirl dancing in your stomach. “Seems like I have a superheroine stalker.”

Why are you looking at me like that? You muse, your eyes taking in every bit of his expression from behind your lenses. Why do you look like you’re… Your thought is left unfinished when your memory resurfaces. Eren is displaying the same gaze he showed you when you talked to him for the first time on the day the cherry blossom petals were dancing in the wind. That dazed, besotted look on his face as if you were the most gorgeous thing his eyes had the pleasure to revel in. But why? You’re not the most gorgeous thing he’s seen, at least not now when you’re buried underneath your costume. He should’ve had this look when he bid his farewell to you an hour ago, but he didn’t, did he? You made his heart resonate with joy when you granted a kiss on his cheek but he didn’t even hold your hand to stay longer. He didn’t perceive you with this gaze. He doesn’t look like he’s madly in love with you. Not like this. Not like now.

You’re paralyzed for a second when it dawns on you.

Oh, shit.

He likes Spider-Girl. 

And everything clicks. The way he seems perplexed when you kissed him on the cheek, the way he didn’t ask you to stay longer. Perhaps it’s also the reason why he’s no longer wearing your scarf. 

No wonder he looked so distraught before! He was trying to sort out his feelings, wasn’t he?

When you told yourself a couple of months ago that it would be funny if Eren fell for you and Spider-Girl at the same time, you didn’t think it would come true. Because why would he? Why would he be in love with Spider-Girl? He doesn’t know your true identity. He’s never seen your face, never seen you in other clothes except for this skin-tight spandex you’re wearing. You’re like a comic book character, walking in real life and spouting cliche lines as you save little kids from the street. If what he feels is simply admiration, sure, you can understand that. But that’s not what it is. This is affection. This is infatuation. He’s in love. But how come? All he knows about Spider-Girl is your personality—the true version of you instead of the delicate, feminine young lady you exhibited during the date. He only knows the stories you told about your first kiss and your first biking accident, the fear you faced when you were fighting for your life, or the way you laugh like a child and sit like a man, and—

Oh. 

Your heart pulsates harder. Your joy streaks through you like a comet.

“Hey,” Eren calls, tilting his head a little in concern. The sprinkle of rain makes the little baby hairs that fall out of his bun stick to his temple, droplets of water sliding down from his high cheekbone to his chin. “You okay?”

Your thoughts are loud. The voices in your head are screaming one line after another, telling you this is it. This is the real thing. You have no reason to doubt his feelings anymore. Eren loves the real you. Every little part of you. He loves you despite not knowing how you look. He loves you simply because you’re… you.

“I, uh—” Never have you felt so much joy expanding within you before. “Sorry, I have to go.” I can’t talk to you right now. I already feel like I’m going insane just standing right next to you like this. 

Because you know if you stay even a minute longer, your mouth will betray you and you will tell him the truth. You will tell him everything: how you’re the same girl he was with an hour ago. That you’re the same kid he was spending his blissful days with when he was a lonely child sitting inside a hospital ward. That you’re the same girl who saved his life and whose heart was saved by him. And that you feel the same way about him, that you fell for him twelve years ago, that you fell for him that night on the rooftop, that you fell for him again just a few hours ago, and how you fall harder for him now. And how much you want to come out clean, take off your mask, and bury your face in his warmth.

I can’t do this. The moment’s not right. I’m just going to freak him out if I do this now.

I need to prepare my words carefully. The last thing I want to do is upset him.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” you say in a hurry. Not giving him a chance to react, you stretch out your arm toward the sky, shoot a rope of web from your wrist, and lift your body off the ground.

“Wait!” He shouts from below, head facing the black clouds as he tries to locate your figure, your body concealed by the night and the fine rain. He’s calling you again and there’s something in his tone, desperate and frantic, that steals your heart and possesses your body to move back into the light. Chewing on your bottom lip, you decide it’s not fair if you just leave him like this. Perhaps it’s okay if I just listen to what he has to say? 

With an uncertain heart, you spin a web and reel yourself down to street level, your body descending until you have your face hanging a few inches away from his. You’re clinging upside-down on a rope of web with the balls of your feet locked around the silvery threads.

“What?” You question him, trying to keep yourself reticent even if the words, “Eren, it’s me!” are rising threateningly close to your lips. 

You see him drawing a sharp breath. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches his fingers into fists, gathering as much courage as he can.

Okay, what do I say to her? Eren muses, his thoughts running like a bullet train piercing through the wind. Should I just tell her the truth? Say, ‘hey, this might sound weird, but I was on a date today with the girl whom I thought I was in love with but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and now I’m thinking that maybe I like you too—I like you much more than I’m supposed to—and I’m low-key freaking out because I don’t want to be that guy who’s in love with two girls at the same time but I really feel like I am. I’m in love with you.

“Eren,” you urge him gently. “I really have to go…”

Fuck this, he curses inwardly. Just stop thinking for a second. You’re an idiot, thinking wouldn’t do you any good. Just do what your heart tells you to do. Just… 

Try.

“Can I…” He wets his bottom lip, his voice quavering. “Can I try something I’ve never done before?”

With your heartbeat blasting in your ears, you feel like all of your senses are screaming at you at once, your blood boiling in anticipation. You can feel it in his voice, the desire and longing he holds for you, the same ones that match the intensity of your own. 

Eren removes his hands from crumpling the side of his jeans, shaky fingertips reaching forward to touch you. He stops mid-air when he sees you stiffening. “Do you trust me?” He asks, barely audible.

“I…” Even upside down like this, face glistening with rain, Eren still looks breathtaking. “I do.”

At your permission, he curls his fingers into the seam at your throat, slipping them beneath the fabric to graze the underside of your jaw. You shudder, breathless as soon as you know what’s going to happen. If he takes off your mask, then so be it. You don’t care anymore. You want him to find out. 

Slowly, Eren rolls back the fabric of your mask, revealing a portion of your skin and your lips. He stops right after your nose, careful not to go any further.

You have your lips slightly parted, so inviting and smooth, with his name resting heavily on your tongue, itching to be spoken. Both of you are coated by the drizzle that pours over you. “Ren—”

Eren leans in, eyes drooping as he rests his hands on each side of your head, pressing his lips tentatively across yours. It’s a chaste kiss, rain-wet and cool, and you feel your breath strangled in your throat even when his lips only brush lightly. He misses the spot, just by a few millimeters, his body so tense, his lungs forgetting how to breathe for a few seconds. 

Eren has always imagined that his first kiss would feel like a dream. Something magical, something that he wants to last forever, something that he’d share with the love of his life at the end of a perfect date. He thought that moment when you bid him good night under the lamppost—that was it. That was the perfect moment to have a perfect kiss, but even if his body wanted it, his heart told him to stay still. His body wanted you, but everything else belonged to Spider-Girl.

You, right now, are the girl who owns his heart. Because kissing under the rain in an abandoned alley with a girl in a superhero costume is the exact opposite of everything he has imagined and yet, this… This right here… This feels right.

This feels like it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

His lips only stay briefly, but even then, you’re having the hardest time opening your eyes. It’s as if you had fallen into a deep sleep and you’re suddenly pulled back into reality. His thumb strokes your cheek, his next words not more than a whisper. “Was that… okay?”

You wet your lip, unintentionally making it harder for him to stay still and listen to your answer before he leans in again. “Kiss me again, Ren,” you murmur, your voice almost drowned by the rain but he can sense the yearning within you and he’s only eager to let you find out how badly he wants you too. 

The second kiss has more zeal, lips parted and teeth threatening to clash. Once it gets a bit intense, Eren finds the strength to break away, his mind reminding him to check on your reaction before he goes even further. But neither of you wants this magic to shatter, not yet. He pulls away only to dive back in with more emotions, more honesty in the way he moves his lips. Splaying his fingers to trap your face, he closes the distance with a soft groan erupting right at the second your lips collide once more. He has his eyebrows furrowed as he sets you ablaze with his avidity, applying more pressure to his lips, more yearning, more burning desire. He lacks experience, but he makes it up with his passion. When you gasp slightly in surprise, Eren captures your bottom lip between his. His kiss, though arduous, is also gentle—just like how he is as a person. It’s sweeter than the ones you’ve experienced. Addicting. Intoxicating. And maybe everything feels this way because you have blood pooling in your brain, but you don’t care. Just like him, this moment feels right.

It’s only when you hear the siren of a police car passing down the street that Eren stops, pulling away but remains close enough for you to have his warm breath caressing your skin. “Shouldn’t you go?” He asks, voice sounding hoarse as if he hasn’t spoken in years. But despite his words, he closes his lips around yours again, clamping around your top one this time.

“Yeah,” you breathe out between heavy kisses. “Kiss me again.”

You part your lips wider to welcome him deeper, and you can feel just a little bit of his tongue swiping along the seam of your lips. Your stomach flips, a faint moan escaping you and Eren tastes the rain, tastes the flavor of your chapstick, tastes you. 

The siren blares through the night again. “They need you,” he whispers.

You have one hand framing his face, stopping him from ending his kiss. “There are other superheroes in town.”

Eren chuckles, kissing you a couple of times more before he leans back, his teeth catching the corner of his bottom lip, his eyes hazy as he watches the way his thumb glides across your lips. You’re about to close the gap again when he titters. “Baby,” he says, the pet name he gives you sends shivers down your spine. “You should go. We can do this a million times more when the city is safe.”

Your smile is about to break on your lips but you quickly replace it with a pout. “I hate you, Tarantula Boy.”

You pull on your web, your body returning to the air before you swing away and disappear into the night. Eren watches you still, his smile perpetual.

His lips, even if it’s only in a whisper, they form the words he’s been dying to say.

“I’m in love with you, Spider-Girl.”

***

AN: Hey, everyone, thank you for reading another chapter of my spider-girl AU ❤️ I'm so sorry if this is bad writing Ice & Fire gives me zero energy to write eren x reader fics these days 😭 but I hope you still enjoyed it hehe

Tagging: 

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-jaeger @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashygremlin04 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @jaegeriess @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza

#eren smut #eren fluff #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader fluff #eren x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot smut #aot fluff #snk smut #snk fluff #our little secret canon

[lands-of-fantasy]

MCU Character Posters

Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury in

Iron Man 2 (2010) The Avengers (2012) Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) Marvel Studios: The First Ten Years (2018 Celebration) Captain Marvel (2019) Avengers: Endgame (2019) Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019) What If…? season 1 (2021) Secret Invasion (2023) The Marvels (2023)

#nick fury #avengers #samuel l jackson #shield #the marvels #iron man 2 #mcu chara posters #the og post is from before the tumblr update so I can't add more than 10 pics properly #so here's a new post for Fury! #it's the first one in the series to go over 10 pics

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Our Man Flint part four

Masterlist in my pinned

TW: fever, illness, hallucinations, nightmares, Christianity, it/its pronouns used to dehumanize, brief implied homophobia, human whumpee, vampyr carewhumper, whumper-turned-whumpee, whumpee-turned-carewhumper

Ambrose carried Flint into the room across from where it and August slept. He struggled, but his captor took no notice.

In Flint's delirious mind, the bedroom seemed far more loathsome than the cell. Not for any filth or gore or bugs, but for how pleasant it appeared.

Beeswax candles flickered in lanterns, softly illuminating antique furniture and art. All dust had been done away with, the insects and spiders relocated to other parts of the castle.

Thick wool blankets, dyed dark blue, laid over the foot of a huge four poster bed. A solidly built wooden desk and chair stood left of the door, preserved but covered in ink stains and scuff marks from centuries of use. Oak bookshelves spanned an entire wall, displaying tomes provided by long dead authors and transcribers.

Unlike in the halls, where paintings detailed great acts of violence, those hanging in the room depticted beautiful green forests and meadows, all framed in polished oak wood, fit for a human home.

"I hope you appreciate the effort I put into cleaning a room up for you," August said.

"I'm so sorry to have been an inconvenience," Flint spat. "Let me go."

Without recognizing the sarcasm in Flint's voice, Ambrose simply dropped him.

Flint caught himself, bruising the heels of his palms on the wood floor, but avoiding yet another concussion.

He forced himself to his feet, clutching the heavy wooden chair for support.

The room swam in intense imagined heat. Blues, browns, and greens danced and mixed sickeningly in Flint's blurred vision.

"I hope this is all to your liking," August said sarcastically. "Because you are going to reside here with us for quite some time."

"The hell I am!"

Ambrose picked Flint up in his arms and carried him to the bed. It gently laid him on the firm mattress and arranged his limbs nicely, with his hands clasped over his stomach.

After unlacing his boots, it left them standing next to the bed, then it unclasped his traveling cloak and hung it over the chair.

"Get away from me," Flint snarled.

The wool blankets covered Flint, pulled over his shoulders. Combined with his dreadful fever, their granted warmth proved more torturous than comforting.

"I am not going to sleep."

"You are to do what my love wills," August said harshly. "You are hardly in a position to argue."

Ambrose kissed Flint's forehead, its freezing lips granting relief to the fire within his skin.

Flint longed to kneel by the bedside and pray, calling to the Lord for forgiveness and mercy. To repeat every prayer and preform every song of worship. Confess his sinful pride and face wrathful grace.

But his arms would not move the blankets away, and his legs refused to carry him. His treacherous eyelids fell, despite his valiant attempt to keep them pried open, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, falling into a deep and tortured sleep.

Flint's fever worsened as he slumbered, the hellfire within his flesh granting him a small taste of damnation.

Sweat poured forth from his body, soaking through his clothes and pooling on the bedsheets.

Turing over and casting himself about, moans and shouts escaped his lips, his words unheard and so unremembered by any living soul.

He woke several times throughout the night, or perhaps day, finding the room filled with all manner of monsters and demons. He tried valiantly to battle them, but fell into still deeper sleep before he could fend them off.

The Devil himself invaded Flint's defenseless mind, tormenting him with blasphemous thoughts and disgusting images, tempting him with all manner of sin.

Gluttonous feasting, lustful fornication, and riches beyond reason laid out before him, ripe for the picking. All he had to do was say yes.

But Flint held steadfast, not betraying his faith in a single breath, even as his flesh melted and blood poured forth from his body, wetting the unquenchable fires of hell.

He fell then, further than seemed possible, down past Heaven and Earth and Hell, finally waking sharply in the bed alloted to him by his captors.

He pushed himself up, leaning his back against the headboard. Disgustingly cold sweat soaked his body.

He shivered, suddenly all too cold for his broken fever.

"Our Father who art in heaven," he prayed, panting heavily, "hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen."

Flint had been tempted by the sin of pride, and paid a terrible cost for it.

This was the fault of himself alone, not of God. He only wished that the good Lord would deliver him from his own folly. But he had promises.

At least they would have an eternity together in Heaven, no matter what fate Flint met in this temporary world of sin and suffering.

I have fun things planned ♡♡♡

Taglist: @elim-flower @thedarkmongoose @mx-arsenic @anomalys-taxonomy @devourerofcheesecake @whumpsday @echo-goes-aaa @itsmyworld98 @verysmallandverygay @kisaisacat @whumpycries @whumpshaped @whatwasmyprevioususername

#Whump #Religious whump #Vampire whump #Hallucination whump #Nightmare whump #Vampire carewhumper #Human whumpee #Gray caretaker #Carewhumper #Whumpee #Whumpblr #Whumpee turned whumper #Whumper turned whumpee #Our man flint

[bookishcatcafe]

Ristretto in Pink (A Huskerdust Fic) Part One

It is strange how quiet one’s home is without anyone else there. The afternoon glow already found its way into my rooms through the fibres of the window-shades, my quiet lightful guests. I finished munching on some scrambled eggs and after sipping the last bit of orange juice, dabbed my lips with a napkin. Work started in a half hour, so I had time to get ready. Despite the limitations from Val, I had a side-gig and just like with Val’s shoots, I showed up with the up-most professionalism. I ain’t gonna fuck around.

              I buttoned my shirt and grabbed my apron and began leaving. Somehow, there was time to do just basic makeup; pink blush, eyeshadow, and a bit of black lipstick for my upper lip. Such a doll. Patting Fat Nugget’s on the head, albeit sleeping, his snores seemed to be my silent farewell for the day. Such a cutie.

                                                                                  ---

              Down the street, Angel passed a radio shop, multiple bars, and soon at Depressio Café. Shit. It was already max capacity and the once quiet ambience was bustling with chatter and coffee machines grinding and pouring away. He quickly rushed into the back, during which he greeted his co-workers, and clocked in.

              The rush lasted what felt like five minutes, but was only an hour and a half. Around four hours left. Angel walked back toward the front of the bar, stocking up the paper cups from what he had grabbed from the back, when he heard the usual ding of the door sensor.

              “Hello! Welcome!” Angel and the rest of his co-workers exclaimed. He quickly hobbled over to the register, fixing up his apron as he tapped onto the touch screen.

              “Whenever your ready, Sir.” He said, watching as this cat fellow eyed the pastry case. The man smelt of booze. The cat scratched his chin and pointed up at the menu.

              “Irish coffee.”

              “We uh…Well I know we’re in Hell but would it surprise you that we can’t make that?” The cat tilted his head, eyeing up the menu again, before replying gruffly.

              “That’s a first. Fine. Just an espresso.” He said as he pulled out his wallet. As Angel put in his order, he felt his heart skip a beat and a heat grow within his breast. The cat was rather handsome. He wore a pair of black suspenders, a small black top hat, playing cards within the rim of the hat, and a nice black and white overcoat and matching pleats. He looked like a magician—an boozey one from his smell—which made him all the more interesting.

              “Two dollars…and a name?”

              “Hm?” The cat pulled out two bills as he looks at Angel with an inquisitive curl of his brow.

              “A name for da order.”

              “Oh. Husk.”

              “Hussskkk…” he sounded out slowly and quietly, typing in the name. He took Husk’s money and smiled a toothy grin, his golden tooth poking out from above his bottom lip. A presentation of honest positivity beamed out of him, from his smile to his inserts of Angel-like Italiano-motifs. He puffed up his chest as he put the money away and waved goodbye to Husk.

“It’ll be on the bar in a moment. Have a nice day!”

              Husk gives a hesitant yet awkward smile back, nodding as he sits down at a booth near the far window. Angel moves from the register and goes to the bar, grinding the beans and preparing his portafilter with now packed in espresso grounds. Husk looked back at the bar ever-so-often as the spider made his order. He recognized him from a lotta posters and billboards, even internet ads: Angel. The Angel Dust. So, the actor has got a side-hustle. Wouldn’t expect it to be this. Yet—I hear he is Italian so, maybe it is nothing too off. Assumptions aside, Husk jumped a bit in his seat when he heard his name called out. He walked over to the bar, seeing Angel placing his drink in a small white ceramic mug.

              “Here ya go.”

              “Thanks, Angel.” Husk said as he grabbed his cup. When he turned around, Angel glanced at his back, seeing the slight puff of his feathery wings hiding beneath that suit of his. Who is this guy?

              Husk sipped at his drink and sighed. It wasn’t half bad. What other skills did Angel have outside of fucking? He watched out the window and rested his head against the wall, occasionally sipping his espresso. Soon, he unknowingly nodded off.

#huskerdust #fanfiction #fanfic #hazbin hotel #gay #my art

[pico-digital-studios]

Master Post

Sonic: Into, Across and Beyond! - Master Post

This is used to link to any parts of Sonic: Into, Across and Beyond! that are present thus far.

WARNING!: There are a lot of spoilers ahead for plotlines related to Into the Spider-Verse, No Way Home and Across the Spider-Verse. As Beyond has yet to be released, that won't be covered here for the time being.

RATED T BY THE ESRB

Recursive work permissions:

You're welcome to make your own part with a character in this project.

Fanart of any of the content thus far is allowed, but NO NSFW stuff at all.

As Spider-Man: Spider-Verse is a copyrighted property, and I don't want to take positive attention away from the movies, video game adaptations of IAB! are prohibited.

I'm not the first person to come up with a Sonic-themed Spider-Verse, and I know I won't be the last. Please don't cite me as that starting point.

QNA / Ask Me Anything! Rules

OMT!Sonic's Intro

Story points (all scripting posts are here for your viewing pleasure)

Character chart

Story List

Universal Reset Changes

Posters:

One More Hero

THE ORIGINAL

Character bios

Key locations:

Blur HQ | MP-2021 South Island | FNF-NEW-2023 (with lore) | Universe Chart

Official canons in IAB!:

The Awakening of Prism (made by @son1c) | Super Forms | The Shared Universe | Time Skips | Alternate Universe Nature | Power Sets

The SEGANet (+ trivia and what could have been)

Friday Night Funkin' Covers

Rivals' Madness (Song List)

Tua Vera Fata (CATaclysm)

Side Jams (crossovers with @robovoidfrog's Funkinverse)

Xs and Os (Smoke & Mirrors)

Special greetings:

Valentine's | Easter/Trans Visibility Day | April Fools' Day | Pride/LGBTQIA+

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic exe #sonic #sonic fandom #sth #sonic prime #amy rose #miles tails prower #sonic au #sth au #spider verse #friday night funkin #fnf childhood memories #childhood memories #elmos world #little einsteins #team umizoomi #let's see what a phantasm is #jack black

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Regal Greece Ridge's Last Picture Show

The cinema scene in my home county has been remarkably stable for most of my moviegoing life. Five multiplexes with 10+ screens went up from 1996 to 2000 and a wave of smaller theater closings ended in 2002. Then, for 18 years, the status quo basically held—some temporary shutdowns for renovations or ownership changes, but that was it.

COVID-19, of course, changed all that. Regal Culver Ridge 16 closed with all the rest on March 15, 2020, but never reopened. The Cinema, last of the Rochester neighborhood theaters, went dark for over a year before reopening with new management and a new dine-in model. Pittsford Cinema 9 is following in their footsteps.

Now, with Regal's parent company facing bankruptcy, another one of their theaters is shuttering. Regal Greece Ridge (est. 1998) was, in my memory at least, the only local theater built into a shopping mall. Because it was on the other side of town, I never visited until 2014 (for viewing #5 of Godzilla with a friend who lived nearby). Then I moved nearby in 2017 and started going there semi-regularly... until AMC hired me at the end of 2018 and I got to watch most everything there for free. Since 2017 was the same year I started obsessively tracking my movie outings, I can list everything I saw at Greece Ridge: Dunkirk, Battle of the Sexes, Coco, Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, Every Day, Blockers, Rampage, A Quiet Place, Deadpool 2, Spider-Man: Far from Home, and M3GAN. Note the gap. I didn't have much reason to come back after I got jabbed and pledged allegiance to Cinemark, but I had to see it off.

It wasn't some hidden gem. Stadium seating, middling number of screens, no premium formats besides 3D, and not much to look at visually. But 25 years is time enough to make a lot of memories, and movie theaters are what's known as "anchor tenants"—they draw in a lot of people who can then be enticed to patronize nearby shops afterwards. So if no one swoops in to switch the projectors back on and keep the soda flowing, it'll damage every store in the mall. And it'll always be the place where I first saw the movie that broke the Internet (which I, for the record, still adore).

For posterity—it's not like newspapers print these things anymore—here are the showtimes for the theater's final day. No Scream VI, which feels a little defiant. Maybe the staff just wanted a quiet night. Hopefully they've all had time to line up better things.

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (PG-13): 11:55 AM | 1:40 PM | 3:05 PM | 4:50 PM | 5:45 PM | 6:15 PM | 8:00 PM

Avatar: The Way of Water (PG-13) [3D]: 1:30 PM | 6:30 PM

Cocaine Bear (R): 12:55 PM | 1:55 PM | 3:45 PM | 4:45 PM | 6:45 PM | 7:45 PM

Creed III (PG-13): 11:50 AM | 12:50 PM | 2:55 PM | 3:55 PM | 6:00 PM | 7:00 PM

80 for Brady (PG-13): 3:20 PM | 6:40 PM

Knock at the Cabin (R): 4:20 PM

The Land Before Time (G): 1:00 PM

Living (PG-13): 12:00 PM | 2:45 PM

Magic Mike's Last Dance (R): 1:15 PM | 7:30 PM

65 (PG-13): 7:10 PM

#rochester ny #movie theaters #writing #regal cinemas #regal

[magickingdom1901]

#Disney #Marvel Studios #Spider-Man: Far From Home #Poster

[greenmenace]

So I can't really give an definitive answer as to how many times I've gone and watched Spider-Man No Way Home but I've noticed that this particular awesome poster from Iron Man 2 likes to pop up in the movie, especially around Norman Osborn who I still can't stop obsessing over!

It's this poster, yes the image is indeed from Iron Man 2 (I actually want to buy one of those posters from Amazon haha). And now here is Norman!

The poster is a bit hidden and blocked by Peter's arm here, but it's there!

There it is again and it's far more noticable now.

And it's blocked by none other than Peter again but you can just barely see it. The poster does pop up earlier in the movie, however it then likes to appear whenever Norman is close to it.

I don't want to sound like one of those click bait and over-the-top theorists but perhaps this is hinting towards Norman becoming the Iron Patriot from the comics? The poster even has the blues and reds of the armor! I think Norman getting the inspiration from Tony Stark and perhaps from the Arc Reactor that Otto maybe kept after removing it from Max Dillon, would make such a great redemption arc in Spider-Man 4 if Sam Rami follows up from No Way Home!

Of course, the poster was probably there for nostalgia and because it is Happy's apartment too, but come on a obsessive girl like me can dream. I'd really like to see Norman getting redeemed for what happened with the Green Goblin by becoming the Iron Patriot and aiding Spider Man and Otto with whatever troubles in the city. Heck maybe he could help fight Mysterio if Sam Rami brings him in?

I really want to see Bruce Campbell as Mysterio please!!!

#willem dafoe #norman osborn #green goblin #alfred molina #otto octavius #octogoblin #peter parker #peter 1 #spider man #spider man no way home #and maybe we could get a little side plot of norman and otto together please sam rami?

[startrekvsfaceapp]

Dall-E, show me movie posters for Spider-Man Far From Home

#spiderman #spiderman far from home #dall e #unreality #ai generated #spodmar far #spam foran plafden

[heliads]

Can I request a Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield version) imagine with prompt 19? Peter is dating the female reader, who’s the lead singer of a local rock band. The reader gives him a backstage pass to a concert so that he can meet her friends/bandmates. When he gets backstage, he asks the reader how she’s doing.

i enjoy this

masterlist

Peter Parker is tired. Damned tired. It’s the kind of tired when you’re just on the barest edge of functionality, where you’re stumbling around like a drunkard without even knowing why. Peter almost walks straight into traffic five times on his way back home after work just because his fading brain can’t manage to put together why a green light means go for the cars, not him.

That’s what he gets for trying to be two people at once, he supposes. There cannot be both Peter Parker and Spider-Man, no matter how he stretches himself thin to manage it. Spider-Man is stealing time away from Peter, burning the candle at both ends as he tries to both save the city and just live in it.

The exhaustion of trying to keep up with everything, patrols and photography and rent, clings to Peter’s bones like a second skin, weighing him down with iron flesh that doesn’t feel like his. Peter promises himself that he’ll skip off patrolling for tonight, go to bed early and get some rest for once. It’s a lie that he’s told many times before, and it does the job enough for now.

He already knows where he’ll be when night falls, anyway, up on those rooftops, watching the lights of the city pass him by. Maybe if he gets lucky it will be a quiet night and he can just lean against the wall of a building, close his eyes while he listens to the city getting worse with every hour.

So Peter’s tired. What about it? He forces his eyes to stay open for now, his feet to keep him out of the path of oncoming cars. The streets seem to lengthen before his despairing gaze, turning a few feet into miles and miles of distance to cross. Peter scans the horizon for any sign of home, and just when he’s absolutely desperate, he sees her.

Peter may be exhausted, but he’s not so drained that he can’t recognize a pretty face when he sees it. This face is one he’s recognized before, one he’s come to call his own as much as any living person can hold claim to any living thing that isn’t himself. That’s what it means to love someone, Peter supposes, you lay out hopes that they might become as much a part of you as your own blood and bone.

The pretty girl is his girl, Y/N L/N, and just like that, Peter is doing better. He navigates the throngs of people until he comes to a stop beside her, absentmindedly trying to fix his hair in the reflection of a bus window like they’ve only been dating for a few days instead of a few months.

Y/N smiles up at him. “Don’t you look terrible?” She says brightly.

Peter grimaces. “Wonderful to see you too.”

Y/N laughs. “My apologies. Let me start again, how about that? Dearest, most beloved boyfriend, you look as charming as ever but somehow far more tired than ever. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I was definitely in bed,” Peter hazards, “maybe got a couple hours of shut-eye?”

“Not enough,” Y/N decides, “You’ll get more sleep tonight. Even if I have to bolt the windows to make sure you aren’t sneaking out.”

Peter rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but inside, his spirits heave a sigh of relief. Telling Y/N about his alternate life as Spider-Man was one of the hardest choices Peter ever made, but man, if it hasn’t paid off in the biggest ways. She keeps dinner or leftovers out in the fridge if he comes back late, and is always there to patch him up after patrols, both physically and emotionally.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know what he would do without her. Y/N is all he’s ever needed. The fact that she’s totally cooler than him doesn’t hurt things, either. Y/N is a genuine rockstar, and her band plays the local clubs all the time. In fact, Peter can see a poster advertising their next performance on the wall of a shop over Y/N’s shoulder.

“I think I might be alright with that,” Peter says, “but only if you’re getting some sleep, too. Your shows end later and later, I swear.”

Y/N nods with great feeling. “Oh, I know. I keep trying to get out of there once the show ends, but we keep finding ways to stay after.”

Peter nods solemnly. “Maybe you wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t so amazing and people kept begging you for encores. A little mediocrity could solve this in no time flat.”

Y/N grins. “Not a chance.”

Peter smiles too. That’s how easy it is to turn life around here; one sight of his girlfriend after a busy day, and Peter feels like he’s walking on air.

The feeling only grows in the days to come. That Friday night, Peter finds himself strolling casually down the block to a nearby club so he can watch Y/N perform with her band. She’s the lead singer, and as such Peter has to fight his way through crowds all begging for her hand in marriage as he nears the front of the audience. He’s not sure whether it makes him feel more confident that he was able to attract the girl of so many crushes or uneasy that about a thousand people would gladly fight him for the title of being Y/N’s partner.

Regardless, the second Y/N comes out on stage all of Peter’s thoughts settle into one distinct pattern:  he’s the luckiest man on Earth, and that could never possibly be argued. Peter has always known Y/N to be beautiful, but something must be said for the way she looks under neon lights in a darkened club, how she smiles when so many people are shouting her name. Peter thinks he could watch this for the rest of time.

Peter can easily tell why Y/N’s the lead singer of the band. It’s not just her singing voice, which is absolutely astounding, or her knack for the guitar, but something else, something inside her. It makes every eye in the club turn to her, an automatic gravity like not paying attention to Y/N L/N with every fiber of one’s being would be as good as death.

Peter has been to many of Y/N’s shows, throughout debut albums and chart-topping best sellers, sequels and add-ons and re-releases. Everyone always feels special, though, even if he’s watching Y/N rock through the same track list as the previous week. Basically, it’s no great sacrifice on Peter’s part to come to Y/N’s shows.

Especially not today, as Peter has been treated with a backstage pass. Peter has met a few of the other bandmates sparingly, only for five minute intervals or quick waves across closing backstage doors, but this time he gets to stay and talk for real.

Truth be told, Peter is exceedingly nervous about the whole affair. What if they don’t like him, or worse, don’t like him being with Y/N? Peter knows that the opinions of her bandmates matters to Y/N a great deal. He couldn’t take a bad first impression, and neither could she.

When the final song plays and Y/N and her band take their bows, Peter hurries to the backstage entrance, pass clutched in hand. They must be expecting him, though, because the club’s security lets him in easily enough. There, Peter barely takes a few steps inside before Y/N is racing up to him, grinning and exhausted but utterly delighted with the way the show had turned out.

Peter wraps his arms around her, beaming ear to ear. “How’s the prettiest person in the world doing tonight?”

Y/N laughs, the sound as sweet as any one of her melodies. “I don’t know, how are you?”

A voice from behind the two of them makes Peter startle. “I knew the two of you were supposed to be the cutest couple on the planet, but I wasn’t expecting something this cute. Try to prepare me better next time, will you?”

Y/N laughs and disentangles herself from Peter’s embrace, something he only mildly regrets. “My apologies, Marjorie. I thought I gave you a solid description, though.”

Marjorie, who must be one of the other band members, snorts. “You told me that Peter Parker was the best thing to ever happen to you. That is, admittedly, pretty solid.”

Peter smiles over at Y/N, who looks faintly embarrassed by this relation of her words. “You said that I was the best thing to ever happen to you?”

“It was a moment of weakness,” Y/N elaborates, “very rare, of course. I’m sure you understand.”

Peter presses a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, definitely.”

Y/N looks at him a second more, happy to just soak in the sight of the two of them together, and then gestures for Peter to follow her down the hall. “You’ve met Marjorie already, she’s our bass guitarist, but we have plenty more people for you to meet.”

Peter takes hold of her hand, and they head into the complex maze of the club’s backstage area. Posters from past shows litter the walls, some torn and peeling from how long they’ve been here. Peter notices a few more of Y/N’s posters, the freshest of them all.

Peter and Y/N come to a stop in front of a makeup room, the door cracked open half an inch or so. Y/N gives a knock, and upon hearing an answer in the affirmative, guides them both inside.

A man and a woman are sitting on folding chairs, both trying to wash eyeliner off of bright eyes. 

“This is Spencer,” Y/N says, indicating the man, “and Faye. Drums and keyboard respectively. Guys, this is my boyfriend, Peter.”

Faye grins, rising to her feet so she can shake Peter’s hand. Spencer follows afterwards.

“So this is the illustrious Peter Parker,” Faye grins, “We’ve heard a fair share about you.”

“I can say the exact same,” Peter replies, “I’ve been hoping to meet you guys for a long time.”

Spencer chuckles. “Y/N has been promising us nothing but the best for you. I’m glad to see that you don’t disappoint.”

Peter smiles. “I’m just happy to be here. You were all amazing, by the way. Fantastic show.”

“Now I really like him,” Faye comments, “I’m desperate for compliments, and if he gives them out this easily, he must be fantastic.”

Y/N laughs. “Hear that, Peter? You’re fantastic.”

“I’ll treasure it forever,” he promises, and all of them laugh.

They talk for a few more minutes before Y/N and Peter head out. They exit through a door in the back, and Peter breathes in a few lungfuls of blessedly cold night air before turning to Y/N once more.

“That was fun,” he grins, “I like your band a lot. They seem like nice people.”

“They are,” Y/N promises, “and they like you too, which is clearly a point in their favor.”

Peter laughs. “I have to admit, I was a little afraid that they’d try the whole ‘intimidate the boyfriend’ thing, so I’m glad to be proven otherwise.”

Y/N snorts. “Oh, they’d never dare. I warned them about a thousand times that if they don’t treat you with absolute kindness, I’ll force them to do all the overplayed songs we’re sick of singing. I intend to act on my threats whenever possible.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Peter chuckles, “but luckily for them, I think we’re all good. I’m so proud of you, Y/N. It’s all going so well.”

Y/N squeezes his hand as they walk through the night. “I couldn’t ask for a more supportive boyfriend. How’d I get this lucky?”

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” Peter responds.

They look over at each other, the lights of the night skyline reflecting in their eyes. Perhaps the rest of this month will be terrible, the year impossibly hard. For now, though, the night is glorious, and no one around could ever see two people more in love than them.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43

#5k celebration #peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #tasm #tasm imagines #tasm x reader #tasm oneshot #spiderman #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #spiderman oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield spiderman imagines #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #andrew garfield spiderman oneshot

[drkineildwicks]

Okay, woke up thinking about it, Across the Spiderverse rewrite

Because I have many problems with this movie even though I can’t bring myself to watch it

Stop putting politics into movies challenge, difficulty: impossible if you’re Hollywood

(“But Kineil, it’s just a badge and a poster!”  Slippery slope, firstly, secondly that’s so they can remove it for other countries, which means it’s not from a genuine point, they just want your money)

But another of my big beefs is them making Miguel O’Hara…functionally the bad guy

Not antagonist, bad guy

Dude’s a hero, you really think he’d stop a kid from trying to save his dad instead of, I don’t know, helping him?

Also dad dying being a ‘canon event’ did we all forget that technically Uncle Aaron is Miles’ Uncle Ben moment?

Also why is Mig playing Madame Web’s role?  Why isn’t, oh I don’t know, Madame Web the one who shows them all the spiderverses and tells Miles about the oncoming peril?

I know the Madame Web movie came out same year but we could have still had classic Madame Web in Spiderverse, have her handwave (and maybe even advertise) this by saying “even I have different versions of myself out there in the multiverse”

But do have it start with Spider-Man 2099

Miles is off doing his thing when Mig confronts him

Miles panics because in the dark and with Mig lunging him the latter looks a lot like the Prowler

Miles still has a lot of baggage there and him trying to process it all could be part of his B plot with his parents

He and Gwen figured out a little device that lets them visit each other and when—as far as he knows—an alt Prowler comes after him and starts owning him in a fight he runs to Gwen for help, Mig follows

Cue dimension-hopping, probably villain-fighting while they’re at it (show Mig helping in these fights in-between chasing after Miles), at one point they end up at Peter B’s house and we get to meet his kid without the whole why did you bring a toddler to a dangerous mission conversation, Peter B realizes the kids are in trouble, looks at MJ because this is going to require him doing Spidey stuff and he won’t be home before dinner

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Maybe we pick up Hobie Brown, depends on if pacing and runtime supports it

The spideys confront each other (point moment) to JJ’s heart event, might start fighting but before that everything shatters and they’re transported to meet Madame Web, who explains who she is and what’s going on

Mig finally gets to add context to what he’s been trying to tell Miles: that the spider that bit him was from Alchemax, from his dimension, which meant that Miles should have never ended up a Spider-Man

“I wouldn’t wish this sort of life on anyone, let alone a kid—this is my responsibility, I want to make it right.”

Miles considers this, maybe Mig has a gene cleanser (Spectacular Spider-Man reference), reflect on how much trouble he’s been having balancing the two halves of his life before looking at Peter B, who did finally achieve that balance

“I didn’t ask for this, but I have it now, and with great power comes great responsibility—I can help people, and I can’t just walk away from that.”

Heartfelt lines, and then Madame Web drops a bombshell that during the dimension-hopping some of the villains took advantage and in the carnage they’re going to wreak on Miles’ home dimension, his father gets killed

The spiders team up and run for the portal Madame Web opens for them, have the to be continued that incensed some people, roll credits, narrower scope and tighter movie

Because honestly looking at Across the Spiderverse, my feeling is that they got glutted with ideas and thanks to their success with the first movie legit nobody told them no

OR

Alchemax goes after Miles because since he got bit by an Alchemax spider they view him as an asset and Mig is trying to intercept and make it so Miles is no longer an asset with the gene cleansers

Got the same dimension-hopping except we have the coherent villain in pursuit

Because in the 2099 series, Alchemax is very much the big baddie

And then have the go save the Morales family and the impetus for the third movie be that Alchemax decided to go after Miles’ family to get him to behave, outs him to his parents, maybe Miles surrenders himself to save his parents, looks back at the others and goes don’t keep me waiting too long, movie closes on the other Spiders leaping into the 2099 ‘verse (seriously if you’re going to have a villain Spider-Man the Superior Spider-Man was right there—)

#spider-man #marvel #across the spider verse #seriously mig is one of the four spider-men you play in shattered dimensions #and superior spider-man is doc ock #the alchemax evil corporation plot was right there #and we've already established multiverses are a thing #come back from a long absence to drop this and then disappears until bh6 month

[xavier-best]

Solem et Stellas

Originally written as part of a year 10 EOY English exam. Edited 8 days later, after receiving feedback, to post here.

*Original prose short story*

  Ivy was Australian. The outback country, the arid wasteland, a continent whose dryness is second only to the barren white of Antarctica. Ivy was an Australian. But as she stepped out into the ancient spanning, rust-red desert, she felt more homesick than ever. 

  “Keep up, Ives!” Her pa called from his place five metres in front of her. The indomitable spring in his step didn’t seem to notice the furious sun beating down on them from above, seemingly determined to turn them both to ash.    “You slow down and I’ll keep up!” she called back, but he bounded on a few metres further and turned, with a grin on his face- “what was that? Couldn’t hear you! Come on Ives, we're not far now!” Ivy rolled her eyes and quickened her pace, to the delight of the already large sweat pools in the armpit of her once purple, now mostly red shirt. ‘We’re not far now’ was something of a favourite phrase for her pa, as he had echoed the sentiment many times as of yet.

  Ivy was a city girl. She liked being a city girl; her pa had grown up in the outback and liked talking about it. “You have it lucky Ivy- you don’t have to worry about snakes!” Or “spiders!” Or “getting fresh water!” Or “Melanoma at the age of 12 because the damned sun is jealous of earth-folk for not building cities on it instead!” or what have you. Him and Ivy lived in St Kilda, four minutes and sixteen seconds of walking away from a day well spent at the beach. Well spent for Ivy, that is. Pa never cared much for the beach. Ivy found herself longing for one such day as she made it to her pa’s side, relaxing the speedwalk she had adopted to catch up. The beach had sun, but not like this; it was gentle, soft, welcoming. The sun here was oppressive. And at the beach, you could always hop into the water to cool off. Instead, they just kept walking, her pa occasionally pointing out a lizard or interesting rock. The dust piled up on her shirt. 

  The desert wasn’t red anymore. As the sun hid its face behind the proud horizon, tired from a long day of glaring at Ivy, the landscape began to shift. As her and her pa settled down to sleep, she felt a chill cut through the arid blanket they had been wrapped in all day. The sand now settled into a cool brown and blue, and Ivy sat herself down and chewed on some trail mix. It was just her and her pa, for the most part. They faced the world together, an agreement they had made long ago.    She hadn’t been a small child when her other dad left, as the trope so often went. She was lucky enough to spend her first sixteen years as a team of three; but looking back she had realised that her dad had treated Pa like trash- she missed him, but understood that nobody would be better for him staying. She still saw him sometimes, always with some new man or woman he’d 'picked up' last week. It always went the same. He says hi, she says hi, he gives her her Christmas present- which is, invariably, a poster of a show she had told him about the last time they’d spoken- she gives him a card she’d made on the train there, she eats lunch with him and his partner of the month, takes the train back home, and spends her day with Pa. She tolerated Dad. She loved Pa.  And Pa loved her. He didn’t really ‘get’ Ivy, and they both understood this. He gave her space, she gave him socks for his birthday and her Sunday nights for watching the footy, and they both cooked each other the worst meals known to the human race. 

  As Ivy finished setting up her little sleeping-bag, she saw Pa standing apart from the little makeshift campsite they had created. Walking over to join him, she customarily tapped him on his left shoulder before pulling up by his right.    “Hey Ivy,” he said, turning to her. Damn. He somehow always managed to get over that trick - once she even tried tapping him on the correct shoulder to throw him off, and he still got it right. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”   “Yeah. Nice and cool for a change.” She had meant to joke with him. He looked at her.   “Look, I... know it’s a bit uncomfortable. We’ll be out of here soon. I just… I needed this” He turned his head away again, back to the horizon. The sun had fully set, and they stood in the light of the very bright lamp in Ivy’s left hand. “We… me and your dad… we didn’t do stuff like this. Well, he did stuff like this. I went with him. He didn’t come with me. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t have.”   “I guess.” Ivy looked at the ground. They didn’t talk about Dad. Pa went back to smiling.   “This is my place, Ivy. Your place is the beach, right? My place is here.” He took in a deep breath and looked around. Ivy kicked herself. She felt awful about having complained all day. She glanced at him.   “I’m glad we’re at your place, Pa. I like it here,” she smiled. Smiling back, he ruffled her hair.   “Yeah, yeah. ‘I like it here, dad!' You don’t have to like it. But I have a feeling that you will,” and he turned off the lamp in Ivy’s hand. 

  The sky, before in its dying breath of orange and dark blue, split open as they looked up in unison. The sky crammed full of an infinite tapestry of tiny lights, all billions of kilometres away. You can see hundreds of stars from St Kilda beach. You can see trillions here.    “Oh… my…” Ivy stared, speechless. She had never seen anything so beautiful. Her pa grinned.    “Good, eh? Your Dad was never much for stars. He always liked the rain. What you reckon?” Pa held a light tone in his voice, but Ivy could see his eyes watering, and his hands were shaking. He smiled a huge, wobbly smile.    “The sun doesn’t get centre stage all the time, Ives. The stars can show their faces when they get the chance.”

And they stood, and stared at the blue and yellow and purple and gold tapestry spanning before them. Ivy wiped her had across her red shirt. Her hand came away coated in dust, and the purple shone in the light.

#writing #creative writing #australia #outback #australian landscape #stars #galaxy