#PeterBsideParker

[jeff-the-landshark]

Oh you are too cute! Mayday would love you, buddy!

Whaddya say, want to do a team-up? Spider-Man and the Amazing Jeff!

Sounds good, right?

@peterbsideparker

mrrrr?

[Jeff asks if you want to team up to make cookies?]

[spiderman2-99]

Hey, bud...? You, uh, patched that hole in security, right? Like, awhile ago now?

@peterbsideparker

... yes, was done a while ago...

...

..

.

Oh no.

[lookingforroleplayers]

If your a marvel/spiderverse fan, i suggest giving @peterbsideparker a chance ! She's got a pretty good protrayal of her muse and she could be fun to write with even if you're a newbie rper ! Very welcoming and friendly 🤗

[whosmoraless]

"In case it escaped your notice, I care about you!"

@peterbsideparker

let's make it hurt

Nobody would ever consider Miles an angry person - much less Miles himself. Not in the sense that he never has been, or that he's a push-over, he just never had a temper on him. When faced with vitriol thrown his way, he meets it with a shrug and a quip, or works to diffuse it, or some mix of the two. His patience could usually withstand a category 5 hurricane.

And yet.

In the face of those simple words, from Peter of all people, after everything he'd been through in what was absolutely the fucking worst two days of his life? Hell, the worst year and half of his life?

Miles swears he feels something snap inside him; can practically see the spiky little sound effect bubble pop up near his head.

"Uh, of course it escaped my notice," the teen spits out, his teeth grinding, "How the hell'm I supposed to believe shit you say? You- all of you- were tooootally down with just- just abandoning me."

He can feel it, the way his friends' their pitying, wide eyes bore into him, some with their hands raised like they're placating a wild animal; no doubt thinking him pathetic, or childish, or unfounded in his rage.

But what else is he supposed to feel? His dimension, his home is wrecked, his life nearly ruined by some creepy guy turned cosmic flaw. A rabid vampire-y guy chased and throttled him to shit and nobody helped. He nearly died while stranded in the wrong dimension, all as his father was in imminent danger. And they didn't care. They were complacent in it.

All because of one self-important man with a stupid, half-baked theory with more holes than Swiss cheese convinced them it was for the greater good.

And now they have the sheer, unmitigated gall to think that saving him at the last possible second and having a fucking heart to heart after Miles about fucking killed himself after the battle will make it up to him?

Fuck. That.

He's not that awkward, people-pleasing middleschooler they met so long ago, who would've done anything, put up with anything, just to be accepted. To feel less alone.

He died a long time ago.

They don't get to wash their hands of guilt so easily now. Not now that Miles is older, wisened, traumatized by time and experience and long nights crying and almost throwing his entire life's dream away for them only to realize he wasn't even a blip in their goddamn minds.

Miles has to physically swallow down the bile creeping up his throat.

"I can sorta, sorta get why you two-" he gestures at Gwen and Peni with his non-shredded-by-Miguel arm, "would go along with it, that guy's scary as hell, probably said allll the right things to you at the worst times of your lives."

They wince. Good.

"But you? You, Peter?"

He despises himself for the way his voice wavers as he shouts. The last thing he needs is to start angry-crying; make himself look more like a dumb kid.

"You never, ever thought for a single moment that, yannow, dooming countless people to die if that batshit theory were right, fucking helping it happen, was kinda sorta seriously fucked up?"

(In the corner of his eye, he sees 42-him's mouth twitch. He can't help but feel indignant for him too; this whole time the Society O'hara's band of sheep could've helped him, but they chose not to. Let his dimension go to shit because of that stupid fucking Canon.)

"And then you decide to be all buddy-buddy with me now? 'Cause of what, guilt? Some weird complex? Nuh uh, no way, I am not letting you just- just get away with this shit. You're the grown adult, why'd you never act like it?"

Sure, maybe it's getting personal now, the memories of the way the original group talked shit about him literally directly behind his back; forcing every single complicated feeling he had for them out into the air that he never allowed himself to feel back when he was a lonely kid who just missed their presence.

But... this all goes to show they never believed in him. Not once. It's not a hard leap to go from dumb-kid-who-can't-be-trusted to anomaly-that-can't-be-contacted.

Maybe Miles isn't thinking totally straight. He's angry, he's hurting, and he's tired - physically and emotionally. Tired of having to prove himself his whole life. Of being expected to be 'mature' and the bigger person even when everything screws him over. Of continually having to prove himself to grown adults who refuse to see past their noses until forced to.

Like Miguel. Like Peter.

A shaky breath. Clenched, trembling hands. "Why wasn't I worth it?"

[therapardalis]

[Starter for @peterbsideparker.]

Port of New York, warehouse district ... evening ...

Thank goodness for cooler weather. Not that Thera was a fan of the cold, leaning more toward the opposite, but it made being dressed head to toe in black, with a bike jacket over the top, more bearable.

You could hardly go clandestinely lurking about the docks in a summer frock, after all.

A forklift was rolling along the carriageway between the buildings, an innocent looking crate on the pallet hoisted on its jaws. Hmm ... Thera watched it from above, lifting dark-tinted thermos to her lips. The Port itself rarely ever slept, but it was less common for cargo to be ferried about after dark. Especially one single crate rather than a bunch all at once. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe ... She settled back, waiting, but she was already fairly sure which door was going to be 'moe'.

Container Warehouse 333, one of the older section with a suspiciously new-looking office space added up above. It had taken a bit of detective work to find the location (some of it the more ruthless kind), and she felt her pulse speed up a little as the forklift driver stopped and climbed down to open the rollerdoor.

Thera used the metallic clatter of the ascending roller as distraction and cover, darting to the nearest overhead crossway and skipping to the other side. Everything pointed to that lonely singular crate holding what she was here to find, and the new pre-fab office section was going to be her way in ...

[templeofvengeance]

[@peterbsideparker Y'know what you're so right]

[iobartach]

@peterbsideparker // continued from; how to keep smiling !

The outcome was never in doubt, this he knew for a fact. Parker could be trusted with any task that he deigned to bestow upon the veteran hero. A truth that he finds himself almost hesitating to repeat in silence, once he caught a glimpse of the other spider's condition.

"Very funny." Tone dripping with a shard of sarcasm, garnet gaze refused to shift away from the other as he stood and watched, tallying the extent of the damage he sustained. Already, he had informed the tower's suit tailor to repair the torn spandex, and stood ready to strongly suggest that the other male spend time at home to recuperate. As much as he was a valued friend and ally, Miguel needed Parker at his best, rather than risk jeopardising a future mission.

But, in spite of this, and the distraction that such elaborate thoughts were capable of causing, he wanders blindly into the trap set for him, lip quirking in a fashion that could generously pass as a smile, rather than the sneer that it attempted to be. "Like I'd forget how to do something so trivial?"

Part of him wished to wave his hands and clamour "Yes! That's exactly what I'm doing!" to response to what shared next, but to his own surprise, his mouth does manage to curve in a positive way, made all the better after the shove with; "There, you see? I never lost the knack of it." A rare claim that could hold water these days.

"What's gotten into you today?" Part of him speculated if he was concussed, but Miguel decided not to jump to conclusions so quickly.

[antvnger]

Well if it isn't Ant Guy! What brings you to this neck of the woods? Us invertebrate based superheros need to stick together.

@peterbsideparker

Well how about that! I was wondering when I was gonna run into you, Spidey.

I just finished helping out Daredevil over in Hell’s Kitchen, so I thought I’d do a quick patrol around here to see if there was anything I could help with before I headed back.

You got that right, buddy, we sure do!

[thissquirrelgirl]

'Trick or Treat Reverse'

- @peterbsideparker

"Trick or treat!" A ten-year-old Doreen shouted as she knocked on the door. "But mostly treats, please!"

She was dressed as a squirrel, the one time of year she could have her tail out without anyone noticing her superpowers.

[thereal-moonknight]

Hey, Mooney!

Any of you interested in a little ongoing superhero poker tournament? Hawkeye dropped out and we need another player...

@peterbsideparker

I'm 100% down for that

[spider-smiley]

//The ENTIRE ballverse rp//

over-psychoanalyzing blorbos is healthy and needed enrichment for the girlies in order to avoid over-psychoanalyzing themselves. like giving a dog a chew toy in order to redirect chewing on its hind legs

[spiderman2-99]

[closed starter for @peterbsideparker. meant to post it earlier but Tumblr hates my guts and after like four rewrites this is the best we’re gonna get. I’m sorry.]

10 days.

10 days since Peter (inexplicably) asked him to join his family's Thanksgiving.

10 days Miguel had to pull some excuse out of his ass to deny him. Or for some world to go kaput. Or some villain decide to shock things up. Or... anything, really, to stop him from going.

But nothing happened, and evidently he's more spineless than he thought he was, because he's standing in front of the Parker-Watson apartment door at precisely 11:49 with a bag of rolls and more nerves than appropriate for a thanksgiving of all things and a half a mind to just- turn around and call it quits.

Which is stupid. Well and truly stupid. If his parents could see him now…

What is wrong with you, you imbecile? You are thirty-shocking-five years old and you still can’t handle social interaction like a normal person?

Miguel shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mother’s voice from rattling around; as grating as his teeth are against eachother. He can do this. He can and should.

Sure, there’s no… script, no set plan to not make himself look like a total awkward ass like there would’ve been at the corporate holiday get-togethers he’s used to, but he can get through this just fine— even if just so Peter (and Mayday) don’t guilt-trip him about not showing up.

So, with a harsh swallow and white knuckles, he raps at the door.

[whosmoraless]

🐇

@peterbsideparker

are you seriously getting dementia on me now

[therapardalis]

[Comedic Relief Meme from @peterbsideparker ]

“How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions?” ------------

"Well, you'll just have to push through like always."

No-one was going to claim that being Spider-Man didn't require sacrifices, or that he shouldn't complain about it along the way. But considering he was currently a snotty mess on her couch, Thera had been listening to the complaints for a while.

"Here," She set a bundle of fabric down beside him, a collection of slightly gothic-looking blacks and greys, "I found you something to wear. Go get cleaned up, and I'll throw your ... actually, is the Suit washable? Before I end up shrinking it in the drier or something?"

[iobartach]

@peterbsideparker // continued from; open!

Acting recklessly, without paying any heed to the costly sum needed for repairs, Miguel had struck at the cold canvas before him, its surface hacked to pieces. There hadn't been a single motivating factor that drove him to ruin what had been a recent installation, something that had taken time, patience and skill to build to agreed specifications. Nor would an attempt be made to formulate a reason for why he had all of a sudden given rent to such needless behaviour, but to any observer, there appeared to be no correlation between each fact. It was simply chaos without cause.

Which, in some respects, could be a blessing in disguise. He didn't wish to imagine the sort of reactions he might earn if he had drawn any attention to twitching talons and prominently displayed fangs, momentarily pressing pause on the act that was called playing human. If he intended to assemble an interdimensional strike force, convince what could turn out to be a number of sceptical heroes, then he was acutely aware that he needed to get a grip.

Only, that in itself came with surprising difficultly, the further that he had allowed himself to slip. Such that, as flaring senses picked up on the subtle vibrations of approaching feet, talons carving out fresh marks on an unblemished section of wall, his brown-topped head would revolve suddenly, a snappy rotation that sees gleaming red hues skewer the other Spider over a shoulder, as he...

Snarled. A guttural, primal thing, that soon inspired the rest of his vast form to turn and face the other, showing off further evidence of turmoil brewing within. None of which could compare to the unsettling call of "Peetttterrrrr" that soon followed, stretched and warped into a hiss that leaks from a fang-filled jaw in greeting.

Or, far more concerningly, in recognition of a new target acquired, the same friend that he had turned to in support for his cause, now pressed to the back of his mind. Some fragment of murky conscience briskly rushes to assert that Peter is no threat, that he's an ally... Who also happened to be trespassing on the same ground that he had taken pains to advise the other to steer clear off at the earliest chance possible. Back when the needling beneath his skin had kept to a much more bearable discomfort, unlike now.

Where, with a deliberate parting of feet, Miguel makes known dangerous intentions, jaw worthlessly moving in a soundless rhythm as he tried and failed to again urge the man to leave. Or shout out a warning that, as his feet left the ground, his massive palms would reach out and attempt to grab Peter's head, almost before the other's Spider Sense could sound the alarm on the danger now set loose before Parker's gaze.

[antvnger]

Hey, Aunt-Man. Sweep any middle aged ladies off their feet lately?

@peterbsideparker

Only with my charm, buddy, only with my charm.