#Spiders Alive

[kitamars]

various trad doodles i made while i was supposed to be paying attention in class

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[pandadrake]

Okay future boy. They should hang out.

(Jefferson completely absorbing everything his Spider-man says is peak. Miles, all your dad wants is to listen to you. Water you doin'?)

[scribbsyscribs]

Angel: "Ya think Husk likes me?"

Vaggie: "Angel, he literally always fixes your drink first at the bar. Even if someone else gets there before you."

Angel: "Yea, but I thought he was just doin' that to get me to leave faster."

[cupcakeinat0r]

Still thinking about DadBod!Miguel………..

You loved your man unconditionally, that was a fact. But it was also a fact that he was a workaholic, and this bothered you like no other. He tried to be better about it since being with you, but the habit of staying for longer hours still persists.

You couldn’t complain all too much, though, since he did make some progress; how else would he have softened up a bit if not to come home to you earlier some days to eat you out your cooking?

Anyways, one time, it was late, he was home, but he was still in that goddamn study of his, and you were waiting impatiently in the bedroom for him.

“Baby…” you call out from the warm, fluffy sheets, “come to bed, please.” you plea, but alas, you’re response is a low, “casi terminado, beba.”

Typical.

You don’t know if it’s because of built up sexual frustration, your ovulation week, or both, but you get up from the bed and march yourself toward his study.

“Hey, mister, remember me? The love of your life?” You say almost jokingly, but you’re kind of serious at this point. You stand at the door, arms crossed.

Miguel looks up at you from his computer, and you can tell he’s tired. He’s already in his usual sleeping attire: nothing but basketball shorts, which doesn’t help the situation at all. The waistband hugs tightly around his pudge, displaying his delicious happy trail.

“M’sorry, mama, I’ll be there soon, m’kay? Almost done, promise.” But you’re not even completely listening because of how inviting his thick, muscular thighs look right about now. An idea pops into your head…

“That’s what you always say…” you walk into the study, catching Miguel’s attention once again when you stand next to him. You give his bicep a tap, a non-verbal request for him to scoot the seat back and turn to you, to which he obliged. He sees you pouting, which saddens him of course, he hates seeing his baby upset. He never does this to hurt or neglect you.

“Mamita, Que te pasa? Hm?” He coos while you sit on his lap, straddling and cuddling him as your smaller-in-comparison figure wraps around his taller, huskier build. You swear if you weren’t so horny, you’d be able to fall asleep right there against his soft, plushy, warm skin. Miguel embraces you back, pressing your front against his soft stomach and hard chest. He has a hand on your hip, the other on your lower back.

“Nothing, I just miss you…” you softly breathe against the skin of his neck, placing soft kisses there, “I miss my cuddle bear,” you speak between those kisses. You know your act is working when you feel a certain tent forming beneath you, your lips curling against his jawline.

Miguel kisses you back, his slow kisses planted along your shoulder, “I know, mama, I know,” he continues to plant apologetic pecks up your shoulder and up your neck, only riling you up even more, “I miss you, too, beba. ” he coos, pressing a kiss on your head as his gaze remains on his laptop. One of his hands continues to rub your back while the other travels from your hip to proceed typing on the laptop.

Miguel then hears you speak against the skin of his bare shoulder. It’s muffled, but he can make out a weak, “I need you.”

The typing stops.

“Perdon, mamita, what was that?” You let out a soft grunt, your hips fidgeting on top of his lap. Your heat rubbing against his bulge and lower belly gradually stealing his focus from his work. “You heard me, stop acting coyyy.” You shy away from the question with more kisses on his shoulder and neck but he persists, “dimelo, mama, que necesitas?”

His lips curl as you begin mewling quietly against his neck, your hips digging harder against his lap. “C’mon, baby, use your words.” His smirk widens when he hears a certain whimper; one he’s grown familiar with and knew what it meant.

Your breathiness tickles his ear in the most delectable way, letting out a measly, “I want — Mm…” You’re surprised to hear the typing begin again, thinking you were finally starting to take 100% of his attention.

“Whatchu want, hm? I’ll give it to you, just say it.” He gently pleads, the softness of his voice the greatest comfort in the world. He makes you feel so safe.

“Mm— I… I need you… Ungh— M’need you in me, Mig, pleaseeee.”

“You want what? Be specific, mamita, you can do it.” You kiss your teeth and roll your eyes, “Baby, you know what I’m talking about, stop being like that.”

“No, no, tell me, I wanna hear it from you. Love it when you say it… need to hear you say it…” he whispers.

You never were good at being vocal, but Miguel has changed that since being with him. The man needs to hear your sweet voice, it being absolute music to his ears. You were at your limit, so for this time, you put aside your timidity and grant him his wish.

“I want this fat cock, baby… so bad.”

You couldn’t stop whimpering due to his massive length stretching you out. You’d think you would have adapted to size by now, but given he has you sitting still on his lap, no room to maneuver, it figures.

“Mamita, stop moving, I’m almost done with this, I promise.” You know he’s having just as much of a hard time sitting still from how gravel his voice has become. Since making you cockwarm him, he’s barely accomplished any work on his computer, about to call it quits and just take you to bed to finish off what you started.

“You said that fifteen minutes agoooo.” You groan, your hips fighting against his hand, which holds you tight in position.

He quiets you with a kiss to the temple, “shh, beba, I’m giving you what you— mmfuck— what you wanted…” The way your cunt greedily sucks him in makes his mind foggy and his cock twitch inside you a number of times. In an effort to hush your noises of desperation, he leans back into his chair so that his face meets yours, practically eating your tongue in an open mouthed kiss. Amidst the heated kiss, he can feel a certain something taut against his belly. He makes the mistake of looking down when pulling away, seeing how his throbbing dick makes a faint bulge in your stomach. With this, your pussy constantly squeezing him, and your soft whimpers, there’s no way he’ll finish any work.

“Coño, you win.”

So he slams his computer, picks you up, basically runs toward the bed and throws you onto it so that he could rail you until you spoke fluent gibberish!

The end :3

A/n: inspired by an ask, Ty nonnie <3

[ratcandy]

thinking about selenopid spiders today.

you want to know why i'm thinking about selenopid spiders. because well. you see. these guys are also called Flatties.

do you want to guess why they're called. flatties . well . you see. it's because

they're flat

(photo cred)

[th3sungod]

parkner au where harley technically remembers peter, and is very concerned that tony suddenly stopped talking about him one day.

he remembers hearing about tony's insanely smart intern and how he rivals even tony's genius ( harley would beg to differ on principal but tony never says that about anyone ) so he assumes the kid must be special. he absentmindedly assumed the kid was spider-man, and when he asked, tony simply told him 'i can neither confirm nor deny' which basically answer that question.

but, he never got a name for the intern. spider-man. the kid. underoos. spider-boy. spiderling. 'one of the two people fully responsible for every grey hair on his head' -- all names used, but never explicitly stating a name.

and, when after nearly a month and a half of not hearing a thing from Tony about him, he asks. at first he assumes he has no new stories since it's been a hot minute since Tony's even been able to do anything other than sit in bed and recover, but something isn't sitting right with him. he asks where's the intern been, and says as much about not hearing anything, throwing in a joke or two about leaving him on the side of the road, but Tony is silent.

"Who?"

"Uhh- your intern? Spider-man? Don't tell me you're already forgetting in your old age." Harley jokes dryly.

Except, Tony actually has no clue why Harley would think Spider-man interns for him. And, he doesn't seem to remember any instances he'd brought up when trying to jog his memory. He says he remembers Spidey helping for a few different things, but never stayed to chat and never revealed his identity.

So, given that it's not particularly out of the question, he automatically assume an alien has taken over Tony Stark's body and calls Pepper. And Pepper knows nothing. And after a very frantic bout of questioning, he takes the initiative to drive all the way to New York.

He doesn't know The Avengers, he talked to Rhodes and Vision maybe once at Tony's wedding, but something is most obviously wrong so his first thought is to tell them. Get there before whatever took over Tony's body, or is impersonating him, or something doesn't have the time to infiltrate the world's mightiest heroes.

No one knows anything. Happy said he drove him once, but he was in full costume and he doesn't remember the starting address off the top of his head. He feels like he's going crazy. He tells Tony as much.

He tells Tony about the kid from Queens he picked up basically off the side of the road, gave him a new suit, and every single story he can remember Tony told him about Spidey. It's a fucking long shot, but he recounts the Vulture incident and about how he took the suit, so he has to know who's under the mask.

Eventually, Tony tries picking out specifics about the dates Harley mentions, and can't honestly tell him what happened otherwise -- other than things that definitely don't add up.

Harley, now trying to think back to ever since time Tony even mentioned the kid, while simultaneously trying to figure out why the vigilante has been subsequently missing since around the time Tony stopped mentioning him, puts himself to work immediately. He said the kid had an aunt, he doesn't know her name. He went to one of the best STEM schools in New York, but he doesn't know which one. But, there are discrepancies. The AI he knows Tony made the kid is still functioning, though it won't locate since the HUDs been off for nearly a month.

Slowly, Harley finds himself spending every waking hour thinking of Spider-man, one of the world's finest, who simply fell off the face of the earth. And, by the time he finds concrete proof in the form of a picture and a name, Tony finally brings him to a resident wizard to help. There are no files on Peter Parker anywhere, so maybe magic will help?

What they find is a scrawny teenager half dead in an abandoned train station, wearing what's left of a spider-suit underneath dingy clothes. he's balled up, and doesn't hold a lick of peace in sleep.

he despises, then and there, he isn't leaving New York until whatever happened is fixed, and everyone remembers peter again. he doesn't know why any of this happened, but he's gonna damn help as much as he can.

( harley would've definitely heard the news of some teenager being outed as being spidey, but he never got a name. he did see a picture, so any memories of the outing are wiped from his mind. )

[ratwithhands]

Right to left (Manga format)

I've mentioned it before about Tsuki no Kaishakunin but Muzan gets very defensive when asked to answer for the absence of Upper Moon One. Since Akaza is the only one who challenges his existence, Muzan makes an example out of him in front of the rest of the Kizuki.

Bonus: here's the version without text

He would've bored holes into his head with his grip but I didn't want to try sketching that 💀 Just know those nails were not nicely sitting on his scalp in the first iteration of this

[erinwantstowrite]

right now im thinking about Friendsgiving and how funny it's gonna be but mostly im thinking about how the justice league will react upon hearing about the avengers and stuff. specifically the fact that peter doesn't know shit about bucky besides that he's captain america's rude ass boyfriend that is the only person willing to throw him around for enrichment

someone, upon hearing peter mention bucky: oh so what does bucky do?

peter, not knowing they mean as a job or as a hero: uh i think he killed that jfk guy

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Look who's here! 💛❤️💙

[shittalkerxox]

The only question I have for Across the Spiderverse is [SPOILERS IF U HAVENT SEEN IT] How can Miles have a canon event if he isn't supposed to be Spiderman. Surely, the original Peter Parker in 1610 would have already lost a captain. Maybe Miles' dad is determined to die, but changing that shouldn't affect the Spiderverse as drastically as Miguel seems to think it would. Miles already isn't supposed to be Spider-man in his universe, how can he possibly be forced to line up to the canon events of Spider-man when he isn't the "canon" spiderman of that universe.

If anything, Miguel should be more concerned about 42!Miles and the complete lack of a Spider-man over there.

I don't think it's a plot hole. Don't get me wrong, because we only have the first half of the story, but I really wanna see how they deal with it.

[moderndayaliens]

He was my favorite

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey, you.

If you're American, and you've been having a hard week egg for.. reasons -

I have something to say to the Americans.

Just remember.

They aren't immortal.

Nobility has lied for centuries. They told us they were placed on the throne by God - the rule of the king being the will of the Creator.

The French proved them wrong.

You are young. They are human. They will one day die.

And on the day they die - regardless of if hell is real or not - there will be a movement when they are laying on that death bed. They will feel their live slipping from their grasp.

And they will feel the fear.

The possiblity of eternal consequence.

They will fear what waiting for them on the other side. The one journey they cannot buy their way out of. The moment the bell tolls for thee.

And honestly, the thought brings me peace.

Trumo and Elon AREN'T demons - though it's so easy to think of them as so.

They are evil humans. And all humans die. Trump? He's 80. He's over three times my age. He's older than my grandmother. He eats McDonald's and Diet Coke like no one's business. Knock on wood I'm betting he's got ten years TOPS.

('I'll be the last president' - my ass. If you take a bad fall it's game over dude. You won't release your health records cause you're most likely due for a heart attack soon mfer. Your minions don't like your candy ass Junior enough to have him as a successor and Baron doesn't fucking care so realistically speaking whats your game plan here? 🤨 Elon's kids have too many daddy issues to take your place. You can't even use a sword. Napoleon would slay you where you fucking stand you pansy)

So if you've been struggling this week, I just wanted to remind you.

Black people won our civil rights without the support from the media, without online social networks, without the support from 90% of white people.

70 years ago, around when my grandma was born - I could not sit next a white person in school. If a white man was walking towards me on the street, I'd have to step into the gutter and let him pass. At risk of being actually killed by the whole town if not.

Nowadays in my city I could tell a white guy my age 'Fuck you!!' to your face. Middle finger and all. And they're not gonna put me in jail for it. No stranger is gonna jump in. The whole town isn't gonna care. If anything, people will just record.

That all happened in ONE generation.

So no matter what Trump does.

Remember. He's not immortal. He will die like we all do.

You're young. You'll have the rest of your life to reverse everything he's done.

That's the thing about personality cults. Once the personality is removed, the whole thing falls apart. And the personality in question is once again - an 80 year old who eats Big Macs and wears suits two sizes too large. A man who would probably get genuinely upset if you asked him to recite his 8 times tables.

If Trump dies in the next 10-20 years, before he turns 100, I'll be 35-45. a.k.a - my generation will be entering the older majority. Our generation will be the eldest and the most influencial. What then?

The Trumpettes won't have their leader for their personality cult so they'll have no one - not even their republican parents - to tell them who to think.

We'll be older, wiser. We'll teach our kids the signs. We'll tell them stories what to do, and invest pubic funds to conserve the history of our fight - to never be erased.

If you're scared this week, I understand.

But remember. We've fought harder with less - and we still won.

So keep your head up. Doom is the tool of the enemy. You keep going, you keep living, and you survive to tear down their legacy while the bastard spins in his grave.

Keep going. Keep your angry hearts and clenched fists. Hold on tight to your love and rage. And keep going.

That's what Hobie would want. That's what a Hobie is there to teach us.

Hope this helped someone, anyone, even if it was a little bit. If this helps you get through the day, or the next hour, with the smallest bit of hope - that's all I want.

Thanks for reading this far! Here's Hobie :)

--------------------------------------------------

And bonus:

Ayo I just gotta add this in here -

Word to god, and when I say this I say this with my whole chest -

I'd be DAMNED before I ever say I'm scared of Donald Trump.

First of all, I'm black and poor. There's been a white man wanting me dead since the moment I left my Mama's hoohaa and guess what, I'm still here. That mfer ain't special. Call me when the klansmen come not when done mfers with tiki torches cosplay call of duty.

Cause none of them coming to the hood..tf.. Try that shit in neighborhood with Bloods and Crips.. Y'all not the only ones with automatics and lots of money. It's just the black people with money and automatics keep shit quiet. If these racist mfers had ppl breaking in they house the way Kendrick had mfers breaking in Drake's with choppers they'd be terrified as fuuuckkk

And secondly there's 4chan fellas out there that probably legit jack off to the idea of a black queer trans person crying in fear. And those mfers can kiss my black ass and kick rocks cause I wake up every day smiling. So -

Anyway I'm done lol

I just had to get this out of my system lol. OKAY BYE FOR REAL

[iwasbored777]

The fact that all Gwen knows about her variants in other universes is that they're dead is so sad. Like imagine you want to know what happens to you in other dimensions and it turns out that wherever you look you mean nothing, you're so unimportant that there's no bigger role for you other than dying.

And I've seen you guys pointing this out, where she's looking at what looks like her own death and even if it's not this is not just a "love interest" Gwen, this is a superhero who is supposed to mean something, but she doesn't. She's only here to die. And so far this (our) Gwen doesn't have any reason to believe that she won't die very soon just like other Gwens.

I think that one of the main reasons why she's rejecting Miles is not just her trauma and all shit she's been through and the fear of dying like other Gwens when they're involved with Spider-Man, but also because if they start something and she dies this will hurt him too.

It's easy to say "canon events aren't true she shouldn't believe in that" but this isn't just a regular risk, this is her life we're talking about.

[ivvyela]

i don’t care if he’s alive the last thing peter parker needs is daddy issues on top of his daddy issues

[demigod-of-the-agni]

they all get called pullingo and are kicked out of the city

Pavitr and Bhim Rajeshkumar and Karna Prabhakar.. the spider bros...