#Or spiderhead

[sleepdeprivedvigilante]

I am in desperate need of a Spiderman/Batman crossover fic (Based on Dark matter by mysterycyclone) but instead of Tim and Duke being his main friends or dick and Jaso finding him on the Secidn chapter, I need one where he goes to gotham academy with damian, maybe Jon and maps or who knows, I mean Damian is 14-15 in comics rn? (depending) and Peter could be 15-16, while Duke is 2 or 3 years older than them both, so maybe they're in gotham prep and stuff.

Like:

Damian, got told to interact with his peers, seeing Peter as the most competent inteligent-wise: Your academic achievements are not as dumb as the rest of our peers.

Peter slightly freaked out but curious: Thanks I guess?

Damian: *nods* I'm glad to FIDN someoene smart here.

After a while of being friends and relaxing more, this trio of idiots

Peter: Working on this is goign to make me go insane- *bangs head against notebook, Witha concussion, and sleep deprived*

Duke: Man need any help? Maybe if you got some rest by the manor-

Damian: You woudlnt have such a headache if you Didn't bang your head agaidnt the wall parker. But go on, it's a least slightly amusing.

Peter:*slightly joking* Hey man fuck you-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three's a Crowd 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Abnesti, Steve Rogers, Steve Kemp

Summary: You're offered a deal without all the details.

Note: I'm stupid okay and fixed the description, etc.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You mop your face with the crumpled tissues. You swear, you cry more about people you never met than your own grandmother. You just can’t help it. No one should ever feel this pain, yet here’s a whole room of people struggling. Just like you. 

Martin stares at the floor as the room sinks into the silent aftermath of his words. He lost his daughter in a crash ten years ago and he’s still here. You can see in his posture, in his eyes, that he still feels it as if it were yesterday. 

You pinch your nose with the kleenex and gulp. You flutter your lashes and your gaze snags on another figure. Steve sits with one foot up on the bar of the stool, the other extended to the floor. A man his size makes the tall stools look small. His eyes crinkle before you look away. 

Rita sighs, “thank you everyone for being here. It’s always nice to have you. As usual, there are refreshments. Please have some before you go. I’ll be here for a bit if anyone needs to chat.” She clasps her hands together and gives a forlorn smile. “Don’t forget to do your journalling.” 

Martin gets up first. He doesn’t stay. He goes to get his coat from the rack of hangers. You slide off your seat as a few others trickle over to the table of cups next to an insulated urn and tray of cookies. 

You check the time. You have the time to get a few before your shift. You wait your turn and sense another behind you. You grab a napkin and take one of the cookies from the array of chocolate, macadamia, and oatmeal. You glance over, and up, at Steve. 

“You off to work?” He asks as he notes your uniform. 

“Yeah, again,” you stop and fill a cup of coffee. 

“Mm, I couldn’t imagine working after all this,” he says. 

“Gotta pay the bills,” you shrug. “I... I hope it’s not overstepping but I liked what you said about your wife today. About how missing her is a reminder of how lucky you were to meet her.” You chew your lip and your eyes tinge. You sniffle. “I’m sorry you lost her.” 

“Yes, well,” he takes a cup of his own. 

He wears a blazer over a dark red shirt. The cut looks expensive; too expensive for here. And the gold frame of his glasses are a bit dated but the Prada on the arm suggests not. You always catch yourself judging and feel bad. You just can’t help but think he could probably afford better than the free community grief counseling. 

“We’ve all lost someone,” he continues. “Your grandmother, right?” 

“Uh, yes,” you frown. “She raised me.” 

“Sounds like a very noble woman,” he remarks. “Oh, don’t let me keep you,” he checks his watch. The bend of his arm causes his muscles to bulge in his sleeve. “I hope it is a quick night for you.” 

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Next week,” he assures you and blows over his cup. 

You stop to grab your fleece-lined hoodie before you head out. It’s bitterly cold out but your old wool coat went missing in the work breakroom. At your second job. The first one, you at least get a locker. You tried to factor a replacement from your next check but most of that will go to rent. 

You sigh as you approach the stop, nursing the hot coffee and nibbling on the cookie. There’s no shelter there. The winds swirl around you and seep through your thrifted sweater. Can’t complain for a four dollar bargain. 

A car slows as it passes and the tinted window rolls down. It’s nice. Sleek. Fancy. Well above what someone working a drive-thru window can afford. Steve shoves his large hand out and waves. You wave back, biting down on your embarrassment. 

You turn your attention up the street and watch for the bus. When it comes, the last of your coffee is cold and your fingers are tingling but numb. You sit and rub your palms together as you watch through the window. 

You get to the burger place right before you’re set to start. You clock in and put on the mandated visor and start your vigil in the window. You’re not allowed to wear any coat except the company-issued one but you can’t afford to order one. So you shiver in your long-sleeved tee and keep the window closed between customers. 

A deep voice greets you from the speaker, “hello, um, might I ask what the wacky sauce is?” 

You give it some thought. No one’s ever really asked. They just order extra and throw a fit if you forget it. You turn and grab a packet and hurriedly examine the ingredients, droning out an ‘ummmmmmm’ into the microphone. You do your best to explain. 

“Mm, can I get the double without that?”  

You agree. It sounds gross once you look at the label. You key in their order as they make it a combo with your prompting. You tell them to drive around and get the machine ready for payment. 

You slide the window open and hold back a brrr. You nearly cough as you’re greeted by a familiar face. It’s Steve. 

“Huh, what are the odds? I thought you sound familiar.” He smirks. 

“Oh, hi,” you offer the screen for him to tap his card. You didn’t take him for the fastfood sort. 

“Bust night,” he muses. 

“A little,” you agree. “Do you need your receipt. 

“No, thanks, sweetie,” he winks. “Nice to see a friendly face.” 

He slowly rolls away and you slide the window shut. Ugh, you’re freezing. Not to mention a bit ashamed. It’s not hard to guess where you work since you wear your uniform all too often to the meetings, but it’s another to be seen out in the wild. 

Does it really matter? The group is not about judging. It��s about listening. If anything, a guy like him will forget this all in the shadow of the exciting things going on in his life. 

[pocfiction]

JURNEE SMOLLETT as LIZZY Spiderhead (2022)

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse Masterlist

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Status: In Progress

Character Guide

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[senawashere]

Can miles teller start making movies cause were bored

[miles-alexander-teller]

[powerbottom-thor]

Chris Hemsworth needs to play more villain roles. I said what I said🗣️🗣️

[youjustcantrefuse]

Chris Hemsworth as Steve Abnesti in Spiderhead, 2022

[ducktollers]

being a spiderman fan teleports u to a strange and unsettling alternate universe where liking the mcu is suddenly an unpopular opinion

[m00nb04rd5]

Serruria (MementoMori AFKRPG)

[digitalcarcrash]

and as you stand over my grave, tell me it's okay

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three's a Crowd 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Abnesti, Steve Rogers, Steve Kemp

Summary: You’re offered a deal without all the details.

Note: happy friday

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your eyes stray to the table of cookies again. In the rush of days, blending together with back to back shifts and disparate hours of sleep, you lost track of yourself. When you finally thought to eat, you found an empty cupboard and just as desolate bank account. Rent, electricity, all that ate away at your already leaking reservoir.

Your stomach grumbles and you clasp your hands together, pushing on your middle to ease the clenching. You're so hungry you can barely focus on Caroline. You blink and make yourself listen. You don't want to be disrespectful.

If Kelsey is on shift tonight, she'll let you snag a bag of fries at least. Not the best meal, but something.

You feel weak the more you think about food. A bit dizzy. As you push your shoulders back, your eyes meet another pair. Steve smiles at you from behind his square glasses. You rock and give a sheepish grin.

You do your best to stay alert. You have a half-shift after this and you're not sure how you'll get through. You should have skipped today.

When at last the session lets out, you hurry to join the line, checking your phone for the time. You don't want to miss the bus.

"Working after?" Steve startles you as you shuffle up the table and reach for a cookie. The white macadamia are your favourite. You keep from scarfing it down as you so desperately want to.

"Um, yes," you reply.

"Bus?" He takes a cookie and bites into it with a hum. You're salivating.

"Yeah," you cough. "I should go catch it."

You wrap your cookie in a napkin and step out of queue. He follows.

"Would you like a ride?" He offers.

You nearly trip, "oh no, I couldn't. That's so kind though."

"I don't mind." He drawls. "You work a lot?"

"I guess. But really, you don't have to--"

"You look as if you might fall asleep on the bus," he muses.

"Oh, no, I'm... fine."

"Well, I do hate to keep you then but I hoped to speak with you about something."

"Me?" You utter in surprise.

"Yes, well, we all know each other here. I just thought... well, we all seem rather lonely, don't we?"

"Sure, uh," you look down at the cookie then him. "Alright, I'll take the ride. Can I give you some change for gas."

"Please, don't you even fret," he waves you off.

He follows you to the door and holds it open. You go ahead of him and nibble on the cookie, unable to resist anymore. He points you across the lot to the same car he drove past your window. The memory makes you cringe.

You stop outside the passenger door and chew furiously. He climbs in the other side, "coming?"

"I don't want to get crumbs in your car."

"No worry, please. It's cold."

You look down at your sweater. You're shivering. You're not so much used to the bluster as done fighting it. You cover the cookie and put it in your pocket. You dust off your chest and hands before you get in.

He turns the engine as you buckle your seat belt. A smooth hum rolls through the car. It's so nice you feel as if you might mess it up just by looking.

"Um, so," you begin as he backs out. "What did you want to talk about? I hope... when I asked about your wife, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh no, that's what these meetings are, right? We're supposed to talk about all that." He steers and glances over at you. "I appreciated you asking. You're a really sweet girl, you know that?"

'Sweet girl.' The way he says it makes you feel even small. That and how big he is. "Thanks, Steve..."

"I was only thinking. About you," he keeps one hand on the wheel as he leans his other elbow on the arm rest. "Working in that window. Two jobs, you said?"

"Yeah, one's only part-time."

"Still a lot." He remarks.

"But er, well, it's not... you don't need to worry about it."

"I do," he insists.

"Why, uh, well, we don't really know each other." You say as you peer put the window, your words sending a chill through you. You don't know much about Steve and you're in his car.

"I know you work hard. I know things have changed a lot for you since your grandmother passed. And you know how I understand that. That I'm going through the same..."

"Yeah, everyone in the group, I guess, um," you babble dumbly.

"I was only thinking... well, you lost more than your grandmother. You lost a whole life. You've had to adapt a lot more than the rest of us." He pauses and your stomach growls loudly. You wince. "Is that cookie all you've had?"

You shrug, "Steve, I hope... I hope you don't think I'm that helpless."

"Helpless, no, but we could all use help from time to time." He slows as he rolls into the lot of the fast food restaurant. The ride was a lot quicker than the bus. "Which is what I'm offering. Help."

"Ah, oh," you sink. "Is it that obvious?"

"You had a nice wool coat a month ago. You didn't have to fight to stay awake. You... spoke a lot more--"

"Right," you sniff. "It's nice of you to offer but I gotta learn to do things on my own now."

"Do you?" He angles in his seat. "Sweetie, it's no big deal."

"It is to me. I don't even know-- what is it? A job? You know I don't have a degree."

"Mmm, no," he pokes the tip of his tongue out and looks away. "Not a job, but... it isn't safe for you to be taking the bus so late. And definitely not good to be sitting in that cold window for hours."

"Steve, please, you're embarrassing me."

"I... I don't mean to so I'll be honest. I lost my wife, I miss her terribly. And you lost the person who took care of you. So we could... help each other fill that void."

You squint at him then your phone. You have ten minutes. You sigh.

"I don't know--"

"I am trying to be delicate here but... there's men who pay for girls like you. They pay a lot."

"What?" Your voice cracks. "You-- I'm not a prostitute. I--" you pull on the door handle but it doesn't budge. "Let me out. I can't believe-- I never even-- how--"

"I know you haven't before. Which is what I'm saying. I'll pay to be your first--"

You turn to him and hit his arm, "that's...wrong."

"I know. I'm just so... I would make it special, sweetie."

He reaches for you and you push yourself against the car door. Your eyes prick and you swat his hand away. You're humiliated that he would even think you would do that.

"Steve," you reach into your purse and take out a handful of change. You drop it in the cupholder and turn to unlock the door. He touches your shoulder and you shrug him off as you escape. "Thanks for the ride."

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

John: sure you may be evil, but are you really a good villain if you do not have an “I can’t decide” by the scissor sisters animatic made about you? i don’t think so

[movedto-mrs-bluemarine]

Road trippin' with my favorite ally...

Once again @sailfish-serum is making my dreams come true. Tyty I can't say it enough

They are on their way to cause chaos in Utah. Because nothing bad ever happens in Salt Lake City, Utah.

[okdeedee]

help the miles tellerification of my Late January 2023 is NOT ideal

(know that i am not 21 now. i just went on a date with a 31 year old at 21.)

36 vs early-mid 20s is technically not the most age appropriate but it sure is more appropriate than the crush i have on pedro pascal.

[miles-alexander-teller]