#[ IC ] crisispider

[izzysarchivedblogs]

@danversiism he knows what you are carol; a captain crusher -> [ continued ]

THAT WAS ALMOST TOO EASY ⸻ She must really need that cup of coffee right now if the mouth-brain filter is letting big clumps of truth out. THE PROS AND CONS OF CRUSHING ⸻ oh, she's been thinking about this or more specifically about him, at least more once. The corner of his right lip curls because she's given him gold to hoard ⸺ harass (as a friend would) about this.

❝ Oh, oh what was that? ⸻ Do I need to turn my hearing aids up? ❞ THAT WAS THE SOUND OF DENIAL ⸻ for a totally true accusation. ❝ And I definitely don't have my underwear on backwards. ❞ Which following the line of conversation, would mean that his underwear was on backwards.

no OTHER benefit ⸻ and he got her again. Clint's definitely all too proud of himself, ❝ So there are benefits and the Captain hasn't flirted with me ⸺ ❞ Granted Clint's not the best at noticing when men flirt with him (even if he's got a boyfriend as of present). ❝ So CON, no coffee benefits. That's disappointing, and ONE, need two more for the cons and three more for the PROS, Danvers. ❞

[parainvestigate]

@crisispider hit the ♡ for a starter

"Just keep the webbing to yerself, wallcrawler."

[normaltothemax]

@crisispider from here

“Nothing.” The answer was quick, automatic, a brief flash of panic coursing through her like it always did whenever he asked something similar. He couldn’t know, no one could know. Whether or not they were soulmates didn’t matter; if she ever told Peter what she could do, he wouldn’t believe her. He’d think she was crazy, try and have her committed.

She absolutely refused to go through that again.

So Max was stuck standing there, picking anxiously at the skin around her fingernails and chewing on her lip. Stuck trying to figure out a way to make him stay where it was safe, despite knowing he wouldn’t. “I just…I have a bad feeling.” He should trust her. Didn’t he trust her? Why couldn’t that be enough? “If you go out there, something’s going to happen, and…” He’d get hurt. He was going to get really hurt if he went out on his patrol today (yes, she knew about that, even if he hadn’t told her yet—perks of seeing into the future), and Max hated that. Hated the feeling of helplessness that came along with it, whenever he showed back up bloodied and bruised. Hated knowing she couldn’t stop it from happening.

Hated knowing he’d do it all again the next day, anyways.

[halfxspider]

"Miguel i just gotta know, I can't take the suspense anymore. Do you put those fangs to use in bed or?" - For the spicy headcanon meme Pete just has no shame so he asked himself

Spicy questions.

"If I answer you honestly will you stop interrupting me with pointless questions?" He's not going to wait for him to answer that and just assume he'll be left alone.

"Yes."

[mastcrmarksman]

"What if marrying me is a mistake?"

In terms of his personal life, things were going well. After what had felt like the perfect proposal, there had been delay in talking any real details about an actual wedding or how they were going to go about being married. They finally finding time sit down and plan wedding details. Something that Clint had come to terms with wanting to do planning, organizing, with Peter and himself personally. It's not that he ever had any regret about eloping, he had loved it that way.

Hell, he'd do that again with Peter now, but he had discovered that he wanted the gathering. All the Avengers there if they could, the few from Thunderbolts and Defenders, and anyone he's ever been lucky to call friend. Planning was stressful, but he wanted that. Clint had enjoyed the sitting down, joking about what they wanted and didn't want. He was liking the wedding planning, there's a lot of silly nonsense but he's getting eager for actually setting a date, get everything together, and then gathering everyone together to see him and Peter married.

Peter's trying to ruin that good feeling he had been having about that; which that happiness had been there since Clint had planned a proposal. So why was Peter trying to spiral the both of them into self doubt again? Clint knows why, he hates deep down that he's the one with an ever expanding emotional intelligence. AA meetings and therapy were doing wonders.

A hand goes up to pause Peter in his tracks, ❝ Woah, woah, slow down, Buster! ❞ Clint waits until his fiancé looks at him, sees him eye to eye. ❝ Stop the spiral train before it leaves the tracks, I mean station. ❞ He's not spiraling down this again; Clint didn't spend a whole afternoon having a crisis about calling Bobbi to ask if it was okay he got married again for nothing. That thought sounds selfish but truthfully this was going to benefit the both of them.

❝ I didn't propose to you on a whim, are you telling me that was a mistake I made? ❞

[writteninscarlet]

sign: you don’t get a choice this time.  i’m helping you. ; @crisispider

sign language ; accepting

She had this under control.

Did he think otherwise? Perhaps if her confidence had not been well-earned (or had it been someone else), she might have been a little irritated. Because she could handle anything thrown her way.

However, she’d learnt the hard way many times that it was always good to accept help. And maybe the fact the words were signed to her made a little difference. It had been a while since she had signed anything, she hoped she wasn’t rusty.

Perhaps most of all, was the fact he had realised something was on her mind. It made sense to ASSUME something was going on - her life was utter chaos, even after settling down to open a little shop of all things. There was always some debate, or argument, some FIGHT going on. Nothing was ever simple.

So she appreciated him taking the time. And for signing it.

But he was going to be rather disappointed, or feel that perhaps his statement was not quite so worthwhile, when she decided to sign back.

Her hands moved with ease and mostly smoothly, the movements returning to her once started. In a short moment, she signed, “Thank you. But sorry. My mind isn’t on some big disaster.”

A pause, then she rolled her eyes good-naturedly and pulled a face before continuing to sign, “Pietro. A complete nuisance. He made rather a mess of my store.” Amongst other little annoyances.

Did she need to continue signing? No. But it had been nice. Still, Wanda signed and then said aloud,

“Your offer is too generous, unless you wish to assist in annoying a speedster. Not exactly a WORTHY pursuit.”

[mxrales]

You would really think that he would be used to this whole ‘multiple universes’ thing—people appearing in his own, or himself appearing in another. And yet, sometimes it was still a little jarring—getting used to how things worked, trying to blend in—but, overall, he managed.

That’s good enough, right?

Still, there are similarities—It’s as busy as it was back home. He was just waiting for his senses to trigger themselves and for him to have to break out the suit that he wore underneath his clothes—but instead, Miles’ attention focused on a figure ahead, squinting, waiting for him to turn around—

“Peter!” He called out to the older man; passersby’s glancing at him before he decides to cut through the busy street before he manages to cut Peter off; chest heaving slightly; though lips pulled into a wide grin.

“Hey, man—It’s good to see you! Didn’t uh—expect to see you, actually. It’s cool, though! How—How’s it going?”

// @crisispider | sc.

[ordinariums-a]

@crisispider cont. from here

"Starting to think I should have gone with the whale policy." A joke; which was only understood by maybe a few entities in the known universe, but one he laughed at all the same. "Hell is a big place; it has it's own weather. Extreme hot, extreme cold, so yes - I suppose it does get as hot as the Catholics say. Answer number two; a snake was just small enough, venomous enough and convenient enough. No other reason. You have a question three?" There's a pause, and a nod. "Four.. five... six?"

[izzysarchivedblogs]

Surgery had never terrified her before; technically, it did not scare her now. She had been a surgical nurse to general practitioner, surgery was not the issue. There is always vaguely been the thought in the back of her head, it feels like it sits at the base of her skull when someone came in with the need for a major surgery, life-saving surgery. She was, after all, a small private clinic and surgery was not something she would saw they were equipped for (despite having an operating room prepared now).

It was not for lack of experience, it was not for lack of tools. It was because it had been just Linda over the years and now she's got unpaid or underpaid surgeon and a nurse, and they did too much already. It's because the more she does things like that, the bigger this gets, the clinic gets and that was dangerous for one thing and because it wasn't a fully functional hospital. It was a last resort on the best of days and worst of days.

Now she had become a primary care physician because there's shortage of those, of doctors in general, and superheroes or people with powers, non-humans were out of luck when it came to the healthcare system, got the short end of the stick. They needed people to care for them, to do their routine check ups, answer their questions, or at least try to.

NEEDING TO DO SURGERY ⸻ was a big risk, and she quite literally held someone's life in her hands. She had a team, but she didn't have a team like a hospital would. No emergency equipment or extra blood, or additional personnel if needed. It was just her and Leonard, which thank god he was a surgeon. An ex-surgical nurse and a surgeon, it's a good team. Sometimes, the only team for people who can't have their face known, who can't go to a hospital and risk arrest.

It didn't feel like it was enough. They held their fingers on someone's pulse today, made the cut and opened them. One mistake, and that was too much that she would deal with as aftermath. So Linda simply did not think of that, but of the trust laid in her. It was a long surgery, and once she's told one of New York's night life patrollers what to do after an operation like this, and when to come in to for her to check up on their healing. It was just her and Leonard.

She knows they helped someone, knows what worrying would get get her. However, it doesn't always feel like its enough. Surgery scared Linda Carter today because of that feeling. The process of cleaning is started, table and equipment first and than her hands. Scrubbing off the day's work and quietly hoping no one needs her at least for the next few hours. A lull in need and emergency, that no one was getting hurt.

The Night Nurse goes off into her head as she cleans, as she works at sanitizing and sterilizing, the room and than herself. Rubbing at her arms a little roughly, rolling her wrists, and going through rotes in her head. That taking on more like this wasn't going backfire, she was enough, that she didn't need to be more than she was, that she got into medicine because she wanted to help people, and loved it. . . .

An awareness of where Leonard was is lost to her as he looks down at her hands, scrubs at her fingers with a brush. Goes a little harder with her nails, more on habit than concern anything broke her gloves and got through. THAT IS HER BODY'S INSTINCT KICKS IN. Feeling heat and presence behind her, than there's a draft ⸺ not a draft, but a breath blowing at her spot of her neck that is bare.

A tingle runs over her spine, Linda catches herself inhaling OVER HIM. Anticipation of what was next, knowing what this feeling was and what was coming. His breath at her neck, his closeness. THERE HE WAS. She had lost him, for a moment in the room, and she couldn't have done this without him.

There was time that she could, and that's not to say she's worse now; she could do it alone again but trying to give as much as she could to the super community. A medical team was needed to give people the best. Medicine was not a solo effort, EVER. She didn't want to do it alone, and now especially without him.

His hands are damp, dare she say, still wet that'll leave spots on her scrubs where his hands land. ANTICIPATION. She is still waiting and than ⸻ his lips do press to her skin, now she exhale out. Make her soft sounds (ones always for him), tired and in her head little breath, as Leonard lingers. She need that, feeling her heart aflutter just a little, as he does and focuses on the air coming through his nostril, light like a breeze or draft, at a point upon here neck.

Linda's head cants ever so slightly to the side opposite to give him, his lips, and head room to reside there. A SMILE TO HERSELF, her lips parting like she wants to talk, like she'll say something like HEY YOU, or maybe something softer and sweeter. Nothing comes out, and maybe it was okay to melt back.

She pulls her hands from the sink, doesn't bother drying them and goes to secure his arms around her body. KEEP HIM THERE. Anchor herself with him, and just breath. Let herself do that, keep doing that and breathing. Stay as long as she liked, until someone needed help; until eventually they should finish cleaning up.

His lips on her neck, oh that was a thrill she had not known she had been lacking, some quiet need that her body didn't know about until he was here. Already wrapped around her, arms which she wants tight. Take her respite like this, and she lets out almost a quiet suddenly aware neither has broken the silence as his lips kept at her neck.

There was no rush, but it was inevitable. She did not want to stay in this room forever, at least specific room; in his arms, yes, she had debated and agreed on forever as a concept in his arms. A room that smelt like antiseptic intentionally? No. They finish cleaning, and make their way back to the little lobby and oh, thank god, it's empty so she can kiss him, and look at him. Tired and achy because that had been long and it went well.

Green eyes look at him with a plead before her lips even part to speak, debate on her lips if they call the time and close the clinic doors and go get food, or go home and there was food at home (at least in one of their fridges). If they were sticking around, then the plea was for him to order them something please.

✧˖° → @oceansfirst

It had been one HELL of a surgery, and an EXCRUCIATING long one at that. Leonard's entire spine, and absolutely EVERY joint he had were aching but that didn't stop him from slipping up behind Linda (who had just been INNOCENTLY scrubbing down her hands, minding her business even.) and wrapping his still damp arms around her waist. Leonard's head dipping down (despite his spine's disapproval) and pressing the a kiss to the base of Linda's NECK.

Leonard LINGERED there, his eyes slipping closed as he could feel the STEADY & STRONG beat of her pulse under his lips. There wasn't any need to fill the silence with words, instead content to just HOLD her close in his arms. She fit so PERFECTLY right there pressed against his chest, wrapped up in his arms, it was as if he had been made to HOLD her close.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

@biitchcakes -> gets him being dumb. he's the worst. (special mention @danversiism)

❝ WAIT ⸻ Danvers, why are you wearing that color uniform? Don't tell me you've become lab rat !!! ⸻ Holy shit, you're not Carol! Your face is all wrong. ❞

And this is how helmsman Clint Barton was absolutely going to get punched today.

[normaltothemax]

@crisispider gets another

"I think you've just invented a new kind of stupid." Wow. Congratulations, Peter, that was quite the accomplishment. "Like, an 'open all the cages at the zoo' kind of stupid." A beat. "You really didn't think this through, did you?"

Congratulations - Dessa

[writteninscarlet]

🫂 ;; @crisispider

Send 🫂 to just hug my muse. - accepting

“Oh, well—“

Wanda froze for a second, out of surprise more than anything else. It passed quickly, and Wanda returned the gesture with ease. And maybe with an amused smile.

“I don’t think this is necessary as thanks. however,” she held back a laugh and there was no doubt a smile on the Scarlet Witch’s face, “you’re a better hugger than some of the others. Last time I hugged Clint he had a pizza slice on his back.” She wished she was joking, but no. There had been pizza involved.

She hadn’t been joking earlier, either. Wanda didn’t need a hug or thanks for being at the right place at the right time. And all in all, heroes didn’t seem the hugging type. Most Avengers team-ups did not end with a hug and high five. But perhaps she was a bit of sucker for a good hug (who wasn’t?), and so Wanda accepted the hug from a spider with her a smile.

Okay but now the hug was going on for a little. And she didn’t mind him but maybe it would be best just to double check everything was alright. “I don’t happen to have pizza on my back myself, do I?”

[izzysarchivedblogs]

@crisispider

She has never minded listening to whatever needed to be unloaded, while she had made it clear that none of her training was psychiatric or in psychology; the nurse knew heroes needed some place to share and while she was patching them up if they started to talk than she would listen, engage as she could and show them the ounces of care that they needed. Offer them to referral them if they needed one to go to a specialist.

THIS? It wasn't necessarily that, since Peter Parker had came in with his daughter for a quick check up which sweet Mayday was okay; he was just being a nervous father and Linda wasn't going to throw him out for brining in his lunch either.

She feels out of breath just listening to how he talked about a mile a minute, without any breathes or pauses in most of it. Actually she feel quite winded trying to follow along with the entirety of the story, to which she isn't sure that she knew what had prompted it exactly, but here she was listening to him explain how he had quit his job.

❝ That's ⸺ WOW ! ❞ Really, she was feeling like she had been taken on a roller coaster on Coney Island with that, and she's smiling as she brushes a loose strand of hair on Mayday's head and lift her up, prop her on her hip.

❝ Mayday's okay, by the way. She's just having seasonal allergies like most of us. It sucks for her, I know, but given her age and size, you really shouldn't give her anything yet. If it seems really bad, than you could take her to her pediatrician, or I'll call around for some PEDS' advice about allergies for babies. ❞ Basically, Peter is just going to have a cranky daughter some of the days because seasonal allergies are getting to her.

❝ They'll go away on their own and she may grow out of them. Just keep her indoors on bad air quality days, keep the windows closed, maybe dust your place a little more often? Or check some things that might be tracking allergens in? ❞

Open Starter !!!

"Okay, so was back when I was in my EARLY twenties right?" Peter took a moment to take one last sip of his drink before continuing his story. " I was still working at the Daily Bugle as a photographer. Well I was running late and I had to SPRINT to catch the Q train."

"I barely manage to catch it right? And it's still early enough that it isn't too crowded, so when I see a whole bench empty, I didn't have any reason to be suspicious. (I'll remind you, these are like dark blue bench it's very easy to not see when they are wet!) So I did what any REASONABLE person would do, I walked over and I sat down." He took a bit of a pause, shoving a fry in his mouth before swallowing.

"So I sat down right? Immediately feel my pants wet and then smell the INTENSE and UNDENIABLE sense of urine. I sprung up so damn fast and just in such an OUTRAGE and just shouted at the rest of the other passengers. ' YOU ALL WATCHED ME GO TO SIT DOWN AND SAID NOTHING?!' " Peter shouted the last bit with his entire chest, really getting into the story he was recounting. (It still outraged him to this day, because if he had been SPIDER-MAN and not Peter, they would have warned him! It's BULLSHIT!)

"So of course I had to RUN OFF the train at the next stop because I had to go home and change my pants. There was no way I was going to work SMELLING LIKE SUBWAY PISS!" Peter's hands were flying around, emphasizing every word he said.

"So of course, I have to call my boss. And Jameson of course was just like 'NO ONE CARES PARKER. GET TO WORK NOW! SPIDER-MAN WOULD STILL KEEP BEING A MENACE EVEN IF HE HAD PEE PANTS SO SHOULD YOU!' Which is just INSULTING because NO SPIDER-MAN WOULD NOT! I should know! but of course I can't tell him that.." Peter finally paused for another long sip of his soda.

"So yeah.. that's the story of how I quit my job at the Daily Bugle."

[izzysarchivedblogs]

❛ don’t go. please. ❜

IT IS WASTELANDS TIME BABY ! Not actually featuring Peter Parker, but the memory of Peter Parker !!

trigger warnings -> blood, death, murder, depression, alcoholism

Sunlight bleeds through the curtains, they are almost pinkish with how old they are, how the sun has drained them of color over many years. MANY YEARS. that always brought a smile to his face, lips chasing up his jaw. . . . his hand goes to drag along a bare back, his hand goes to. . . . REACHES FOR ⸻

Hand closes around a machete, just in his reach as he finds himself flat on the ground. GRIPS TIGHT TO THE WEAPON. (he should have held on tighter ⸻ TOO LATE, that was years ago). Aches and pain be damned, ❝ FUGGOFF! ❞ He growls into as he takes a swing, blade bites into ankle and he doesn't finish moving. FULL FORCE THROUGH FLESH AND BONE.

Blood gets in his mouth, which only enrages him more. FUCKING SHIT BALLS ON FIRE. He's getting on his feet when they fall from their own feet, yelps of pain and he coughs out the blood onto the ground. BOW ⸺ BOW ⸺ WHERE THE HELL IS IT?

Once it's located, he's reaching, REACHING ⸻

His hand makes contact with what it was looking for. Soft strands of hair, all frizzed up. Fluffy, brown locks that fingers card through languidly. A rumble is in his throat, interrupted when lips find purchase at his adam's apple. PETE ⸻

He may be old as well, arteritis in every bone or some shit. DOESN'T MATTER ⸻ He's got a nice bottle of WHISKEY that waste away most of the aches. The ex-blonde, silvering waterfall of hair thrown over his shoulder as THE BOW STRING IS DRAWN and than ONE, TWO, THREE ⸻ arrows go through a had, a throat, a stomach. That last one will bleed to death, and he's not in the mood for mercy or caring. LET IT HURT.

The problems are dead, or well, dying. The one little bitch is TRYING HIS PATIENCE, but the archer moves on. He was close, he knows he was close. He picks out what he had been looking, KEYS, from one of the corpses and the whining really was getting on his last nerve. ❝ Shuddup, t'is take me ta' your boss lady? ❞

An answer is not waited for because he's been on this road for months now, years even, and IT'S ONE MORE TO TICK OFF. Another head to roll, and HE WANTS THIS. He needs, he needs, he needs ⸻

Those lips keep pressing upwards, wet against his jaw line and cheeks. His hand drags back downwards, feeling his bare skin until his finder, down his spine and feeling every vertebrae there. Blue eyes meet dark eyes, YOU GOING TO KISS ME OR NOT, begs on his lips. An alarm goes off, and dry lips have to turn away. Wet lips pouting and he knows that look ⸻

When he finally gets there, looks upon the house at the top of the hill and end of the street. EVERYTHING IN HIM GOES COLD FIRE. Grip tightens and FINALLY, it's her time. It's her time. SHE HAS TO DIE. The world was hell, left to rot, and it deserved to burn. She deserved to burn, along with the world. Maybe in ash, it could all be reborn.

HE deserved to burn with it too.

A hand's going up to his face, cupping his jaw and turning his attention. They've been lazing in bed for over three hours, counting their blessings that the new baby was still sleeping and Mayday either still asleep or self entertaining. WE'RE SO LUCKY WITH THEM, he had mumbled and he's pulling away. HAS TO as his Avenger card beeps at him again. There's a look in Peter's eyes, happy and light. "DON'T GO. PLEASE." Rumbly voice than met with lips on his lips finally, and he wants to crawl back into bed. Stay there with him.

Now his memory, which has been getting funnier and funnier. The memory comes back up again, except now is this really a memory? As he gets his way past the exterior security, and as he has to go fast. Taskmasters would be on top of him if he took too long, which he could handle it or DIE; he wasn't done yet with everyone on his list. OTHERWISE, HE DIES AND THE PAIN WOULD BE OVER.

He sees him standing there, corner of his vision than in front of him. Peter Benjamin Parker, but preferably Peter Barton-Parker to him. HE'S LOOKING AT HIM. Sad eyes, frown on his lips and he's moving to stand in front of the doorway, to where he need to go. TO WHERE HE'D BE KILLING KARLA SOFEN.

"Don't go. Please."

This time, he is sad and twisted, broken voice. He could not handle this. NOT NOW. ⸻ GO AWAY, PETER. Karla has to die, he needed to kill her and you should hear what she's done with herself. IT'D BE BETTER. The world hurt, it needed to burn away all the, and maybe. . . . . He knows past his own lies, this wasn't justice. VEAGANCE ⸻ REVENGE KILLING.

"Don't go. Please."

Clint walks right into the ghost, FEELS LIKE COLD FIRE (how it kills him, how he wants him to be real and catch him in his arms). He swallows, tries and the lump gets caught in his throat. GOD HE NEEDED THAT WHISKEY NOW. Be quick about this, he can make for his stash and than skip to the next town. One more person down, the list gets shorter.

There's a limp form of a blonde woman, sitting in a chair, wasted way. TOO MUCH POWER. DYING BODY. Arrows shot through her skull, into her chest. "You can't kill me that easily, Clint. My body was already dead."

Clint coughs, LAUGHS CRUEL, and he's got the biggest sneer at the voice that comes through the house. Interior weapons engage, walls moving in, ❝ Awww hell, Karla, sweetheart ⸺ Don't you remember always sayin' I was smarter than I looked? ❞

HE CAME PREPARED. Karla Sofen and her systems were going to burn, with the world, with everyone in it, LIKE HE BURNED. He'd kill her, and all of them, and leave behind a trail, a mess of ash and blood. IT ALL HURT.

"Don't go. Please" ⸺ He wish he hadn't. "Don't go. Please" ⸻ TOO LATE.

[normaltothemax]

@crisispider liked this for a starter from Stiles

"Gahh!"

The bat was up and about to swing, only just stopped by its wielder before it did. Heart pounding wildly in his chest, Stiles brought one hand up to rest over it, lowered the bat, wheezing out a "Holy shit, dude!" He might have actually died for a second there, the guy had scared him so bad. "Don't do that!" Seriously, who the hell just appeared out of nowhere, like that?

Psychopaths and creeper wolves (and psychopathic creeper wolves), that's who.

He blinked as his brain finally registered what the guy was wearing. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced around briefly. Was this some sort of weird prank, or was this guy actually serious? "...Is there a reason you're dressed up like Spider-Man in the middle of the preserve? I'm pretty sure Comic Con was a couple weeks ago. And, you know, not in the middle of the woods."

[izzysarchivedblogs]

smash or pass + Jess ( clint )

ACCEPTING -> you get the game -> except it star trek specific @biitchcakes

❝ Oh, her? ⸻ Well, I'd hate to say that I liked her better blonde, y'know remind me of my ex-wife, like the blonde scientists . . . . definitely ex-wife vibe. Sine she has dyed her hair? ❞ He was going to get in so much trouble for likening her to his ex-wife, and just about anything else he was going to say and this is a happily committed man to a dork in engineering.

❝ Buuut, I mean, blondes get it better, yknow? ⸻ The dark hair, and she's got like a great head of hair, like honestly good hair is enough; like the dark hair works for her absolutely, definitely ups her IT factor⸺ ❞ He should be watching out for her from now on.

❝ But like they have a saying about girls who could beat you up, right? ❞ He's not gonna say it, that'd be incredibly stupid of him.