#a role-model ( may parker )

[lynxbatics]

big day for Dr. Connors and Peter Parker mentor and mentee relationship truthers ‼️

[watsonjackpot]

+ ( ❤️ Aunt May knew ❤️ )

[pretty-bratty]

Since you all loved THIS ONE so much, I'm writing more. So here's

Part Two

"Mr.-Mr. Stark??" Peter scrambles to get up, feeling his cheeks flushing. "What-what are you doing here?"

"Better you tell me what you were doing out there, Mr. Parker." Mr. Stark looks him up and down, and Peter becomes very aware that he's wearing only boxers. "Late at night. While your unbelievably attractive Aunt is sure that you're in your room, doing homework like a good boy."

Oh shit. Peter turns cherry red.

"You-you. Did you tell her?" He flails his arms around helplessly.

Mr. Stark looks at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirks.

"Relax, spiderling. I didn't rat you out to Aunt Hottie."

Peter just manages to breathe out in relief when Aunt May busts into the room, adjusting her long hair.

"This meatloaf recipe is a disaster. Let's go get dinner. Thai? Mr. Stark - Tony - how do you feel about Thai?"

Peter whips around to look at his mentor in horror.

"No, May, Mr. Stark - he has a thing."

"Hey now, the adults are talking." Mr. Stark pins Peter with a look and flashes a smile to May. "Thai sounds perfect. I'm in."

What?!

"Good." May smiles and squints at Peter, waving her finger. "Maybe put on some clothes."

Peter's almost sure he hears Mr. Stark letting out some sound, like humming. He doesn't have time to figure out the emotion behind that sound - he's too busy thinking about standing in front of his mentor (role model? hero? more-complicated-than-a-crush?!) basically naked. And scrambling to put on a sweatshirt.

***

The dinner is a hot mess. Mr. Stark keeps flirting with May, much to their waiter's sulking. Peter, by the way, is not sulking. Not a single bit. And if he moves his larb around the plate, barely picking at the food, it's just him being not so hungry.

When May goes to the restroom, Mr. Stark casually leans in.

"What did I say about late night patrolling?"

"Uh..." Peter stares at him. "Nothing?.."

"Pretty sure I said it's a no. Especially on a school night - no, scratch that, on any night."

"You really didn't." Peter crosses his arms.

"Of course I did. Maybe Happy forgot to tell you. But now I did for real. You're going to have a curfew. " Mr. Stark waves his hand dismissively, as if the topic is closed.

Peter looks into his plate.

"Stop pouting."

He's not!!

"M' not."

"Totally are. And hey, Spidey-"

Peter whips up his head, looking around in panic, but no one seems to hear them. He looks at Mr. Stark - and sees a winning grin.

But then his face gets serious.

"I don't want you to get involved with the serious stuff. Like that explosion today."

So did the Cap tattle on him? But it's impossible, Mr. Stark was already in the apartment when-

"Do you hear me? I want a 'yes, sir'."

Now Peter's definitely pouts st him.

"This is not what you thought back then, in Germany!"

"Don't you even bring Germany into this."

"But-"

"Stay close to the ground. Helping little people and all that. I'm still waiting on the 'yes, sir', by the way."

"Is the rice pudding bad or were you two just too caught up talking?" To Peter's luck, May comes back just in time.

He sees Mr. Stark opening his mouth, and cuts him off, panicking, before the man makes him promise something ridiculous in front of May.

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you, I...uh...I need a new backpack."

Great, Peter.

"What?" May puts a finger to her ear, staring at him in disbelief.

Now he has no other choice but to repeat it.

"I need a new backpack..."

Mr. Stark keeps silent, watching them. And if Peter didn't know better, he'd say the man is enjoying the whole situation.

"Peter - that's five. You have school tomorrow! Where on earth will I get you a new one at this hour?"

Peter just squirms in his seat, trying to smile casually, but his ears feel like they're on fire.

"Tony, how do you lose five backpacks in a span of a month?"

Peter gives Mr. Stark hopeful eyes. He, of all people, surely understands how, he should help him out, and-

"Send him without one," Mr. Stark pipes in. "Make him carry his books like that. Will teach him a good lesson."

Peter just gapes in disbelief.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Five-Factor Model of Personality

Culture is transmitted to people through language, as well as through social norms which establish acceptable and unacceptable behaviors which are then rewarded or punished (Henrich, 2016; Triandis & Suh, 2002).

With an increased understanding of cultural learning, psychologists have become interested in the role of culture in understanding personality.

The 5 Personality Traits According to this Model

OPENNESS TO EXPERIENCE

Refers to a person's imagination, feelings, actions, ideas

LOW score: More likely to be practical, conventional, prefer routine

HIGH score: More likely to be curious, have a wide range of interests, be independent

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS

Competence, self-discipline, thoughtfulness, goal-driven

LOW: Impulsive, careless, disorganized

HIGH: Hardworking, dependable, organized

EXTROVERSION

Sociability, assertiveness, emotional expression

LOW: Quiet, reserved, withdrawn

HIGH: Outgoing, warm, seeks adventure

AGREEABLENESS

Cooperative, trustworthy, good-natured

LOW: Critical, uncooperative, suspicious

HIGH: Helpful, trusting, empathetic

NEUROTICISM

Tendency toward unstable emotions

LOW: Calm, even-tempered, secure

HIGH: Anxious, unhappy, prone to negative emotions

Applicability

The idea that personality can be described and explained by five traits (OCEAN) has important implications, as does the fact that most personality tests were constructed and initially tested in Western countries.

Western ideas about personality may not apply to other cultures (Benet-Martinez & Oishi, 2008).

2 Main Cultural Approaches for Researching Personality

Etic traits - considered universal constructs that are evident across cultures and represent a biological bases of human personality. If the Big Five are universal then they should appear across all cultures (McCrae and Allik, 2002).

Emic traits - constructs unique to each culture and are determined by local customs, thoughts, beliefs, and characteristics. If personality traits are unique to individual cultures then different traits should appear in different cultures.

Using an Etic Framework

Cross cultural research of personality uses an etic framework and researchers must ensure equivalence of the personality test through validation testing.

The instrument must include equivalence in meaning, as well as demonstrate validity and reliability (Matsumoto & Luang, 2013).

Example: The phrase feeling blue is used to describe sadness in Westernized cultures but does not translate to other languages.

Differences in personality across cultures could be due to real cultural differences, but they could also be consequences of poor translations, biased sampling, or differences in response styles across cultures (Schmitt, Allik, McCrae, & Benet-Martínez, 2007).

Personality Test/Measure Used: The NEO-PI

Most of the cross-cultural research on the Five-Factor Model (FFM) and Big Five (OCEAN) has been done using the NEO-PI (and its subsequent revisions; i.e., it is an assessment tool developed to measure the 5 dimensions of personality according to the FFM) which has demonstrated equivalence, reliability and validity across several cross-cultural studies (Costa & McCrae, 1987; McCrae, Costa & Martin, 2005).

Research using the NEO-PI found support for the entire Five-Factor Model in Chinese, Dutch, Italian, Hungarian, German, Australian, South African, Canadian, Finnish, Polish, Portuguese, Israeli, Korean, Japanese, and Filipino samples, in addition to other samples (McCrae, Costa, Del Pilar, Rolland, & Parker, 1998).

NOTE

Personality tests rely on self-report which is susceptible to response bias like socially desirability responding.

To evaluate this possibility, McCrae and colleagues (2005) recruited students from 50 cultural groups and modified the NEO-PI to be in the third person (i.e., he, she, his, her):

The research participants were asked to complete the form on someone else that they knew very well (McCrae et al., 2005).

The same 5 factors emerged in this study.

These results provided empirical support for the FFM and for the use of self-report instruments when conducting cross-cultural personality research.

There was no reason for the students to respond in a desirable way because they were answering questions about someone else.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[remotepixel]

headcanons for platonic peter parker who wants to be your brother sooo bad

AAAA ok i want to say thank you so much for requesting !!!!!! i was literally so excited when i saw it lol.

I set this around Homecoming but didn't specify too much.

TW: yandere themes!

I imagine Peter always wanted a sibling.

-As a bullied, ‘weird’ kid, he grew up wishing he could have someone to hang out with when no one else wanted to.

-Of course, his parents always said no (since it obviously isn’t as simple as young him thought) and he never pestered May and Ben about it, too busy grieving and learning the struggles of money, but the idea lingered well into his teens.

-And, when he met you, he couldn’t help but think maybe God was granting him his wish.

He would be very clingy (to put it simply).

-If you’re in the same school, he’ll make you sit with him and his friends at lunch, walk you to and from lessons, anything to keep himself glued to your side.

-If not, he’ll be constantly checking his phone, texting you 24/7 (or calling you if he can), to the point I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a couple detentions for it.

-He acts like being away from you is the worst thing to ever happen to him.

-Like if doesn’t get a constant reminder that you’re not ignoring him and you’re just busy he’s gonna drop dead.

Outside of school, he would normally invite you around his house to build lego Star Wars or binge old movies no one else your age knows.

-I think he’d really like having things only between you two - like an inside joke or a project you work on together - both because he has an excuse to talk to you, and because it makes it seem like you’ve know each other your whole lives (something he wishes desperately was true).

I imagine Aunt May seeing you two hanging out one day, squabbling about how to properly ensemble the last piece (he’d probably go with your judgement no matter what though), and tells him something along the lines of ‘stop fighting with your sibling’ as a joke.

-The way Peter’s face would just be 😯 before breaking into a massive smile that permanently stays on his face for the next month.

-Like, even Aunt May agrees that he’s your brother, that's basically the same as her adopting you, yeah? no-

Peter is a bit delusional if you couldn't tell.

-Like, the way he constantly called Happy because he convinced himself that it was gonna go through eventually? Yeah, you’re getting the same treatment.

-He assumes you feel the same even if you so much as look at him (I bet he’ll think it’s some ‘sibling secret code’ and look at you in the same way so it looks like he understood).

That isn’t to say he’s ignorant to your emotions though.

-He copies your feelings in a way - like, if you’re sad, he’ll be as well, if you’re angry at something, he’ll be angry, etc.

-He isn’t one for violence but I don’t think he would care if Spiderman webbed/roughed up a few people who were annoying you (I don’t think he’d do much more unless you were in serious danger or he got too caught up into his feelings like in no way home).

I can’t believe I didn’t mention this before but he would be so jealous if you actually had (a) sibling(s).

-Like, he’s supposed to be your brother, but now he has to compete with people who know you so much better than he does? People who get to live with you and say you’re related without getting funny looks?

-(He lied to MJ once and it immediately backfired- he just wanted someone to actually think you and him were siblings, ok? Is that really a crime?)

-I don’t think he would have it in him to be outright mean to them, but he wouldn’t be overly nice either, just neutral enough to hide any jealously and not get banned from seeing you.

He tries not to come across as pathetic (don’t tell him he lowkey is-) but he’s never had much of a family before. Sure, he has Aunt May but everyone else? Dead, just like that.

Siblings is a whole new world for him and he just wants to be there for you, be your role model like Stark is for him, and prove that he can be the best brother ever.

I have re-read this but my tenses might be messed up </3

[galfromearth-22191]

Don’t watch the mouth….watch the hands- Peter B Parker once said

A random shower thought if I may share when this very important saying from Itsv popped up in my head.

It’s the scene where Miles and Peter have that small one-on-one talk that needed to be had. Peter admits that without Miles, his daughter would’ve never been born. Peter praises Miles’s for being a role model that he wants his daughter to aspire to be when she grows up (Don’t watch the mouth)

The same thing he compliments his former protégé on, is the same thing he excepts Miles to tone down for the sake of conforming to the Spider Society’s standards. (Watch the hands)

His words didn’t correlate to his actions..

Don’t watch the mouth.

Watch the hands.

[nerdasaurus1200]

Not that I thought Miles was ever wrong but the more I think about it the more his desperation to save his dad in Across and absolute refusal to stand back and let him die makes perfect sense for his character development.

Cause on the one hand yeah obviously that’s his dad and they may butt heads but Miles still loves him more than anything and no way is he gonna let some petty argument with his father be the last time they ever interact.

But also, I think it’s his trauma from the first movie talking. Cause think about it, his dad is his last male positive male role model left.

The very first one, Uncle Aaron, he lost in a very traumatic way at a very young age, right in front of him.

And then his world’s Peter Parker, once again, right in front of him

And both times he was young and inexperienced and he couldn’t do anything to save them. But this time, he’s older and he’s learned the ropes. He’s more than capable now. So over his dead body is he gonna stand back and let someone he loves die a third time.

[charlesoberonn]

Fanfic idea: Mid-30s Peter Parker is happily married to MJ. He then finds out he has a child from a long ago affair with Black Cat, which naturally puts a bit of a strain on his marriage.

His teenage son comes to look for him to help with his own spider-powers, which are violent and unpredictable.

Now, an experienced Peter who's a bit past his prime gets a taste of fatherhood as he tries to help his rather difficult son. A Spider-Man who never had a role model like Ben and May to guide him.

Then, surprise, turns out MJ is pregnant. Also! There's a mysterious villain who's after Peter's kids (and isn't an Osborn!)

[definitelynot-peterp4rker]

Let's do this one last time.

My name is Peter B. Parker, I'm 19, I was bitten by a radioactive Spider and for the past four years I've been New York's Spider-Man.

I'm a pretty smart guy, I graduated Midtown as valedictorian. I'm now studying at MIT.

I like skateboarding and Maths, and my girlfriends. Guys are pretty nice to look at too.

My Aunt May died a few months back, but I got adopted by my mom and dad not that long afterwards. @official-pietro-maximoff @pietros-wife

And by my role model too! No clue how that happened but it's pretty awesome. @nataliaromanova-official

My favorite colour is red, I really like robotics and photography, gardening's pretty cool too!

I've got two girlfriends (it's poly, I'm not a cheater), I'm out here thriving. Anyways, there's my one true love Vera, and my other half, MJ. @moongirlwidow @midtown-braincell-holder

Thanks to them I also have a whole lot more family now than I was born with. I have a lot of siblings too! @sienna-maximoff , @the-cinnamonroll-stark , @just-a-fucking-civilian and @athena--carter are some of them

I've got a dog, His name's William Bertram the III, but we just call him Willy. He's an Australian shepherd.

So yeah, life's going pretty well for me

(Mr Delmar's is the superior sandwich shop)

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Little Braids

Peter Parker x Platonic Parent Figure Reader

Summary: You tell Peter about your braids and he wants some.

Warnings: very angsty, still mourning over major character deaths

Notes: This is set sometime after DSMOM, reader is some kind of immortal being (could just be a longer lifespan than humans, like Asgardians), reader has magical powers, reader and Peter live together

Word Count: 1,017

You stood at the sink, washing some dishes when Peter came out of his room. He had just woken up so he was sleepy eyed and his hair was messy and fluffy. You looked at him and smiled for a moment.

"What?" He laughed out as he noticed you staring.

"How come you always put gel in your hair?"

"I don't really like the fluffy thing"

"Really? It's so cute!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, you look adorable when you come out in the morning with your fluffy bed hair"

"I have kinda thought about doing something different but I don't know"

"I think you'd look great"

"Thanks. While we're on the subject, why do you always have little braids in your hair?"

"They're for the people I've lost"

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything"

"No, it's okay. Most people don't care or sometimes don't even notice, it's nice to talk about them"

"Oh okay, well then, who are they for?"

"The two behind my ears are for Tony and Nat, the two at the top of the right side of my head are for two old friends from Asgard"

"You know people from Asgard, that aren't Thor?"

You laughed lightly at his intrigue "Yes, I knew many people in Asgard. These two are for Thor's mother and brother"

"Loki? The guy who invaded New York?"

"He wasn't always like that, something bad happened that made him snap. He was actually very sweet when he was younger"

"Did you spend a lot of time with him?"

"Yes, Frigga taught us magic, I can't even count the hours Loki and I practised seidr together"

"That's the magic you use?"

"Not all of the time, I used a variety of mixed magic. Some seidr, some mystical arts Doctor Strange magic, I never know what they call that, it's had a few names. I have magic naturally within me as well"

"Like Wanda?"

"Yeah, like Wanda"

You look down for a moment, remembering your old friend "See these two braids on my left, those are for Wanda and Vis, and the two smaller ones next to them are for Billy and Tommy"

"Who are Billy and Tommy?"

"Wanda wasn't very well after what happened to Vision, no one would be, and she used her magic on a small town"

"I remember that, it was on the news"

"Yes, well, she also created fictional children, Billy and Tommy"

"Oh"

"The thing is in every other universe they're real, just not this one"

"Oh, is that why Wanda went kinda...."

"Yeah, yeah it is"

You took a deep breath and gripped the kitchen counter tightly, sending a small crack through it.

"Shit, not again" You muttered under your breath.

"I can go to my room or go patrolling if you want"

"No, it's fine. I need to be able to deal with this eventually"

You took another deep breath and smiled at Peter "So, you wanna do something different with your hair?"

"Uh, yeah"

"What are you thinking? I used to be a hairdresser for a while so I can help"

"You were a hair dresser?"

"Yeah, I think it was the 1950s or 60s on earth at the time, I get a bit mixed up when I go from planet to planet"

"Wow, that's pretty cool"

"Thanks, so you got any ideas?"

"I kinda really liked your braids, you know, how they mean something. If that's okay, I'm sorry, I just shouldn't have said anything"

"No, no, that's fine, it's kind of one of the cutest things ever. You wanting to be like me, because I'm a super duper amazing role model"

He let out a small chuckle "Yeah, you're pretty fantastic"

"So, do you want one for Tony and one for May?"

"Yeah and um I though maybe two little ones for Ned and MJ, I know they didn't die but"

"I get it. To you they are gone. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything"

"I get it, there are universes to save and you were busy"

Neither of you said anything for a moment, the tension made the air feel thick.

"Wait, who's the other braid for, the one sorta near the middle?"

"Steve, I still visit him but, he-he's not the same. The Steve Rogers I knew has been gone for a long time"

"I'm sorry"

"Ah well, it's all a part of getting older I suppose" You joked as you bit back the tears forming in your eyes "So, four then?"

"Yeah"

Peter sat down and you put the braids on the sides of his head, just above his ears. He got up to look in the mirror and came out with a big smile on his face.

"These are amazing, thank you"

"N-no problem, kid"

"What's wrong?" He saw you sitting on the couch fiddling with your hands and sniffling.

"Nothing, 's fine"

"Did I do something wrong? Is it the braids? I'm really sorry"

You looked Peter straight in the eyes and cupped his face in your hands "Peter, you never need to apologise to me, I'm here for you no matter what and I'll always be here for you. You are more than I ever could have asked for and you make everyday better. I want you to feel comfortable with me and I don't want you to feel like you need to apologise for everything"

"I just, I feel like I mess up everyone's lives just by being in them and I-I don't wanna lose you too"

"Sweetheart" You said softly, quietly.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and placed your hands on the back of his neck, stroking his hair gently. You planted a small, sweet kiss to the top of his head and rested your head on his, holding him close for a moment. His arms moved to your waist, hugging you back tightly, too afraid to let go.

"In case you hadn't noticed, my life can't get much more messy"

He laughed softly through quiet sobs.

"I love you Peter Parker and that will never change"

"I love you too"

Tags:

@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342. @everyonesfriend @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse

[thefactcollector]

A bunch of things about Spider-Man, Part 2:

Miles Morales, created by writer Brian Michael Bendis and artist Sara Pichelli (with input from Axel Alonso), was the second Spider-Man to appear in Ultimate Marvel, and the third main Spider-Man overall.

Place of origin: Brooklyn, New York, Earth-1610

Ethnicity: Afro-Puerto Rican

Family: Rio Morales (mother), Jefferson Davis (father), Aaron Davis (the Prowler; uncle)

First appeared: August 2011 (Ultimate Comics: Fallout #4)

Movies: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) and Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse (2024)

Voiced by: Donald Glover in the Ultimate Spider-Man animated television series and Shameik Moore in the Spider-Verse animated movies.

3 facts about Miles:

The initial reactions to Miles' introduction as a new Spider-Man was mixed. Stan Lee and many others approved of the creation of a positive role model for children of color. Others were upset at the replacement of Peter Parker and saw it as an attempt by Marvel Comics to exhibit political correctness. On the other hand, The Washington Post called for the new character to be judged on the quality of the stories, which were getting positive reviews.

According to Bendis, because of Miles' father and uncle's past as thieves, he wonders if criminal behavior is hardwired into his DNA, so he questions whether he is essentially a good person or not. It doesn't help that his uncle Aaron says "You are just like me" to Miles as he dies.

Miles gets to know Peter Parker's loved ones, May Parker, Gwen, and MJ, who know of his secret identity and give him Parker's web shooters.

[Main source: Miles Morales on Wikipedia]

[camisoledadparis]

STORY: Late to the Party

A kinky, threeway, mmm, BDSM erotic saga. We've got Watersports , Impact Play , Choking, Buttsex ,Chastity, Bondage and more! Enjoy you whores!

_____________________________________________________

This is fiction, that means it’s not real guys.  The sex acts in here may not be safe. Consent may not be as explicit as it should be. My characters are not your role models or heroes. And that's ok, if you want a hero, Peter Parker's vanilla bussy exists.

____________________________________________________

Sir is going to be pissed. I'm running late, it's my night to cook, Sir and Shawn are waiting for me, and I'm running late. I've been trying to show Sir I'm worth taking his collar. I want to gain Shawn's respect. And I'm fucking late.

I pull into the apartment parking lot, jump out of my car, sprint to Sir's building and slam the intercom. Shawn answers almost immediately, a bad sign. 

"You're late," he chirps. 

I wince, I feel like he hates me. 

"I know, I'm sorry," I responded.

The door buzzes and I spring inside. Behind me I hear Shawn's reply over the intercom, "I'm not the one you need to apologize to."

I enter the elevator and try to compose myself. I run chap stick over my lips, they get dry when I'm stressed. I make sure my braids are tied back in a short tight ponytail. Sir loves to grab them and use the end and as a handle. Anticipation builds as the elevator inches it's way to Sir's floor. I just want to get inside.

An eternity passes and the doors scoot open, I shift through before they're done, make my way down the hall and give Sir's door two quick knocks. As I'm about to make the third knock, the door is gone and Shawn's face replaces it. I stop myself before bonking his nose. I open my mouth to say sorry, but I see a small frown arrive across his brow and I stop myself again.

__

I step inside with all the enthusiasm of a student late for class. But before I could take off my shoes, Shawn closed the door and pushed me against the wall. It's not enough to knock the wind out of me, but enough to shock me. We're face to face, I'm speechless and then I feel his hand applying pressure to my shoulder. I know what to do. I know who commanded this.

I fall to my knees and start unbuckling his pants. Before I can finish, he grabs my hair and I look up. It looks like he's about to say something but doesn't. I get back to work. I know why I'm there and why he's there. We serve our Master, however he wants us to. 

I take out Shawn's hard cock, it's been a while since he's cum. I open my mouth and Shawn jabs it in, pinning me against the door. I start to gag. He keeps it in a little longer and starts fucking my face. 

I stick out my tongue as far as possible. 

I try to lick his balls. 

I gag more. 

It's becoming sloppy. 

Shawn's enjoying this and I hope Sir is too. He moves faster. He's close. I can feel the fullness in his balls. I grab his ass and feel him hold my head in place. His cock all the way down my throat. I look up and see him wincing. Is he about to cum? I'd been trying to get Shawn off for weeks, but his self control and dedication to our Master was ironclad. Had I finally done it? 

Then I felt a warmness in my chest. Holy shit, I can't even taste it. He's pissing directly into my stomach. And he's hard? How did Sir train him to do that? Then my shock turns to dread. 

What if I gag? What if I spill some on the floor? What if I fail again. I feel Shawn's hand pet my head, he mouths, "You got this". He doesn't want me to fail our Master either. That's encouraging. Or maybe he just doesn't want to deal with cleaning up the mess. Either way, this is what Sir wanted. I don't want to disappoint. I've been practicing drinking piss to get a taste for it, but I always gag when I'm drinking from the tap because of the bitterness. Thankfully Shawn bypassed my taste buds.

The stream finally ends, Shawn lets off, I collapse on the floor and I start coughing. Thankfully nothing comes out. Zero drops spilled! And then I see Sir's feet.

Somehow Shawn is already kissing one of his toes. I follow his example and we both spend a minute making love to his digits.

"Good job Shawn. Practicing pissing while hard paid off." Sir remarked. I could feel how proud he was of his collared boy. I knew he was smiling without even looking up.

"And you're late." He chided me. My urine filled stomach dropped. Before I could start my apology.

"You're not here to make me wait. Do you know you know why you're here?" We'd both heard this question a hundred times and we'd hear it a thousand more.

"Sir, I am here to serve you, to give you pleasure and submit to your desires, Sir." Shawn and I both barked in unison.

We lifted our heads and before I knew what was happening, Sir slaps Shawn. And silently walks away. 

It can see a tear falling from Shawn's eye. We knew it was coming. He's my older slave brother, my failures lead to his punishment. I did this.

Before I can apologize again Shawn quietly remarks, "Get started on dinner."

__

I get naked, put on an apron and start cooking. I'm not a great chef, but I've started to learn to serve Sir. A slave who can't cook isn't a very good slave. I was behind but catching up with some hustle. Thankfully the oven was already preheated, probably Shawn watching out for me. Or for himself. I want to reach his level of commitment to Sir, but I keep finding myself lacking. I toss some pork chops in the oven. As I'm preparing vegetables for a boil I hear a yelp.

I can see Shawn groaning as Sir squeezes his balls. Shawn needed to get soft to fit back in his cock cage. Shawn's cage is a lot smaller than mine. Not because he has a small dick, but because he's been trained to size down. His cage is about 2 inches long and almost completely hides his dick. I see our Master pass a small lock through the cage, into the hole in Shawn's dick where a prince albert used to live, and out the other end. Sir learned how to do piercings a couple years ago for the express purpose of piercing Shawn. He wanted to be one who gave him a brand new hole.

I was running behind again. I'm getting distracted. I start the mashed potatoes. Shawn had already peeled them. I can't believe how late I was. I want to take Sir's collar, but I need to be more reliable. Before I can finish seasoning, I hear some extremely lewd noises from the living room.

Shawn is doing squats on a gigantic butt plug. His balls are flopping up and down. Sir is smiling in approval.  It's so wide at the base, I can't believe Shawn can take it. But he's committed. He's trained for this. Sir cheers him on, "Faster boy." And Shawn picks up the pace. He starts moaning or groaning, it's hard to tell. He's so deeply committed to giving Sir what he wants. He has literally molded his body to meet Sir's desires.

The cooking oven timer goes off. I hear Sir tell Shawn, "Keep that inside" and Sir, Shawn and the massive plug in Shawn's ass make their way to the table. Sir sits at the head and I hand him a plate. I take off my apron and stand naked next to Shawn. When we perform well, we sit with him at the table, when we don't...

"Neither of you are eating tonight. Shawn you can lick my toes. Mark, you may watch." Sir commanded.

I listened to Sir dine on his dinner and Shawn lick at his feet. I'm not mad at Sir, I'm frustrated with myself. And now Shawn's going hungry too.

I see Sir rise, walk the trash can, and throw out the remainder of the food. Well, I guess I need to keep practicing my cooking. Sir motions towards Shawn to move to the bedroom. Intentionally or not, I start batting puppy dog eyes for an invitation. Sir waves me on and I follow. 

__

Sir pushes Shawn on the bed, turns him around and grabs him by his spiky black hair. I watch waiting for an invitation. But I know Sir wants me to just watch.

Sir slaps Shawn's ass, Shawn bends himself into the position. Ass tilted up to meet his Master's groin. Sir slides the plug out of Shawn and it makes the most obscene noise. Shawn gasps but Sir pushes his face into the pillow. 

Sir mounts Shawn and begins pounding. 

It's loud. 

Shawn is moaning and bucking back into Sir's crotch.

This is primal fucking. 

It's not about love making, it's about power. Shawn's ass is so clearly made to take this over and over again. And he loves every second of it.

I'm straining against my cage and my dick drools precum as I wait my turn. Sir flips Shawn over and they stare into each other's eyes. Sir owns every fiber of Shawn and they both know it. Shawn's entire being is wrapped in this moment of pleasing Sir. At this moment, Shawn is only a sex toy for Sir's cock.

Sir clutches Shawn's neck and begins to cum. Shawn doesn't resist, as he's both choked and bred simultaneously. Nothing else exists in the universe but these two. I'm honored they let me watch and hoping one day I get to feel that euphoria and dedication.

__

Shawn collapsed after putting his entire being into massaging a load out of Sir's cock. Sir pulled out of his exhausted slave, looked at me and pointed to his semi-hard dick. I lunged at it and sucked, licked and choked on his member without abandon. I was tasting lube, a bit of cum, and some of Shawn's ass, but I didn't care. I was finally getting the chance to serve Sir.

As I cleaned his dick I started to look up at Sir. He was motioning at Shawn. Sir noticed I was getting distracted from the task at hand, grabbed my hair and started face fucking me. I knew the only thing that mattered in that moment was his cock. I stopped thinking about anything else. I was so dedicated to working a load of Sir, I was forgetting to breathe. Tears started welling up in my eyes and throat slime covered his dick as he drilled my face.

I started feeling something snaking at my backdoor. It felt like a dildo but it kept going and going. I felt so full, I felt like it’d never end. When it eventually stopped, I felt two checks meet mine. Shawn and I were connected by a double-sided dildo. He started fucking me with his ass. Clapping them together. I joined in unison.

Sir pulled out of my mouth and moved to the other side of the bed. He started face fucking Shawn with aggression. He was moaning and purring with each thrust. Shawn wanted his cock more than life itself. Shawn started gagging and Sir held his head in place. I could tell Shawn was barely keeping it together but he didn't push away from Sir or give him any voluntary resistance. I watched as Sir deposited another load into Shawn. 

2 - 0 Shawn. I need to step up my game.

When Sir finally pulled out of his cum dump, Shawn was gasping for air. He coughed twice, and under all the drool, tears and cum he croaked hoarsely, "Thank you, Sir." 

__

There's a moment where we all caught our breath. Then before Shawn or I had completely recovered, Sir instructed me to get the restraints. I pulled myself off the dildo, disconnecting myself from Shawn and picked up 4 leather cuffs. Sir instructed me to put them on Shawn and I did. Then Sir stood Shawn up, instructed his slave to stretch his arms out and Sir connected Shawn's wrist cuffs to a hook in the ceiling. Sir then spread Shawn's legs and ran some rope through the ankle cuffs and tied them to the bed frame.

With Shawn restrained, Sir grabbed a whip that was hanging on the wall. I was expecting to see him strike. But he offered the whip to me. Sir told me, "Punish him for your mistakes." 

I froze. I had never whipped anyone before. I didn't even know how. I had been whipped, lightly. But I didn't know how to do it correctly. I felt terrible that Shawn is still getting punished for my fuck up. My brain continued to race, but then I heard Shawn scream. 

Sir had started to whip him. "Fine, I'll punish him for your hesitation and your tardiness and your mediocre cooking," Sir yelled. 

~~

~~

Shawn was howling. I was watching, with guilt, shame, and erotic excitement. Shawn was in pain, but he knew he was meant to take this. Even if we both performed perfectly, Shawn was going to get whipped tonight, because Sir wanted it. He had accepted the inevitability of it. However, it didn't make taking that whip any easier.

A couple minutes later, Sir and Shawn were both dripping with sweat. Sir had broken the skin in a couple places and I could see Shawn whimpering. He took more than I ever had. Sir undid Shawn's restraints and removed his slave's cock cage. Sir then looked at me and whispered with a calmness that terrified me, "If you can get him to cum, we can all call it a night. Otherwise, Shawn will whip you twice as hard."

All the color drained from my face. I didn't hesitate, I got on my knees and started making love to Shawn's cock. I sucked harder than I have ever in my life. I tried everything from licking his balls, fingering his ass, and playing with his nipples. I don't think he was anywhere near cumming. I was about to mount him with my ass, and I heard, "Times Up."

Dejected, I started putting the restraints that had bound Shawn on myself. I stood up and stretched out my arms where Shawn had minutes ago. The floor was slick with Shawn's sweat. Sir hooked me in as he did Shawn. I stopped myself from begging for mercy. I know I want to be here. I want to wear a collar like Shawn. I want to serve Sir and take everything Shawn can. I want Sir to be proud of me. I want Shawn to think I'm worthy of it. I want to be wanted.

Shawn moves behind me, whip in hand, and I offer my naked back to him. Sir moves in front of me and starts caressing my nipples. 

"Ready boy?" He asked softly. There was a hint there to confirm he was worried. To show concern. If I said no, or if I said yes and he didn't believe it, I know he'd stop it. But I looked him directly in the eyes and said "Yes, Sir."

__

Ending A: Mercy

Shawn tossed the whip on the bed and hugged me from behind. Sir smiled and teased my nipples some more.

"You were right, he didn't pussy out of it." Sir remarked, joking at Shawn.

"Yes, Sir. I knew you wouldn't choose someone who would give up so easily." Shawn shot back.

"Sir, am I not about to get the worst beating of my life?" I asked gingerly.

"Well, not today at least. I just wanted to teach you a lesson. About focus." He responded.

I relaxed and started to enjoy his fingers tweaking and playing with my tits. 

"Focus on the moment. On what I say. On what I want. At that moment. Don't predict me or worry about what happened in the past. The most important thing in your world is what I want right now." He said sternly. 

His sermon had reached me. I disrespected his desires by thinking about anything other than his desires. I wasn't truly submitting because I wasn't focused on submitting. 

"Thank you, Sir. I understand." I smiled. 

__

Ending B: Whip him!

The whip crashed down on my back. I know I screamed but I couldn't hear it. Before I could recover, the second swing landed. I hissed. I squeezed my eyes closed. Another. I howled and tried to shift my body, but I couldn't get away. I felt a hand grab my face.

"Don't take your eyes off me." Sir commanded.

I opened my eyes as another swing found its mark. I looked at Sir. He was stone faced. He wants to watch every moment of my agony. He wanted to absorb it. 

Another swing and I hopped off the ground but didn't avert my gaze. He started smiling and said, "Open." A gag slipped in my mouth, I don't know when he picked it up. 

Shawn swung at my ass. A tear fell down my face. Sir's hands went back to my nipples. 

Another swing. I started sobbing. 

Another. Sweat was dripping off my nose. 

Shawn pelted my upper back, Sir purred. 

Another. I coughed, my throat was hurting from yelling through the gag. Sir tugged at my nipples gingerly. It felt good. 

Another. The feeling of Sir's hands on my nipples were muted by the crack of the whip to my ass. Shawn was making sure I felt his fury. 

"Why are you here?" Sir asked. 

I mumbled through the gag and Shawn shouted our creed without stopping his onslaught.

"Sir, I am here to serve you, to give you pleasure and submit to your desires, Sir."

"OH, I didn't hear him. Shawn, give him more encouragement!" Sir mocked. 

Somehow Shawn picked up the pace. I mumbled louder but not clearer through the gag.

"I can't understand you boy!" Sir yelled, encouraging Shawn to go even harder.

Shawn's swings were coming so fast I was losing the ability to tell them apart. I yelled out the creed through the gag. Sir laughed. Shawn continued his relentless whipping.

"Oh, you've got something in your mouth, boy." He joked as he removed the gag. Shawn kept up his barrage. Sir's hands returned to my nipples, tugging and pinching harder now. My face was covered with tears and snot.

"Sir, I am here to serve you, to give you pleasure and submit to your desires, Sir." I yelled alone.

Sir tugged at roughly at my nipples.

"And don't you forget it, boy." He growled.

I wasn't holding myself up anymore. 

I was just hanging there. 

No attempt to shift away, my body had realized it was useless. 

Shawn had slowed down. I think he was tired. 

My gaze hadn't left Sir. He leaned in to kiss me, hands still fixated on torturing my now raw nipples. His kiss was aggressive. Neither of us closed our eyes. He explored my mouth with dominance and I let him dominate. I didn't have any resistance left.

Sir pulled away from the kiss. He motioned for Shawn to stop. My back was burning. Sir gave me a soft slap to the face and turned to walk away. He sat and relaxed in a chair across from us two sweaty and exhausted slaves.

"Now fuck him," Sir commanded.

Shawn grabbed my hips and impaled me on his rod. I gasped. My ass cheeks stung as his groin slapped against me. He didn't give me time to get used to it. Sir, smiled and watched.

Shawn was a skilled top. He made sure to plow every inch of my ass. His thrusts were surgical. He'd been trained to do this. He wasn't fucking for my pleasure but for Sir. My prostate felt his cock with each invasion. My cock started to leak through the cage.

In spite of all the pain. I felt good. I had taken the beating. 

I felt proud. 

Shawn pulled at my hair, continuing the fuck that Sir had commanded. I started to wish it was Sir taking my ass. But I pushed that thought aside. Shawn fucking me is what Sir wanted. I was filling my purpose. And right now, it was being Shawn's fuck toy and Sir's entertainment.

"Shawn, you can cum now." Sir said casually.

Not even three thrusts later, Shawn convulsed. He impaled his dick further than before and hugged me from behind. I felt his load fill me, it was massive. I have no idea how long it had been since he last came. He had so much self control. His cock and his orgasms were trained to please Sir. I felt glad I could help him get off. No, I was glad Sir let me.

Shawn pulled out and Sir rose. I heard Shawn's cum drip on the floor. I felt so used, but not ashamed. I felt Sir had used my body for his purpose. Pride welled in me. Then he said two words that sealed the deal. The only words I wanted to hear.

"Good boy."

Next time: Shawn, the disappointment?

By Snagglebuss

~~

~~

~~

[watsonjackpot]

+ ( tag dump )

[worldsmessiestwriter]

When you know, you know.

tw - none just pure fluff

word count - 1,415

Peter Parker x Reader

——————————————————



It happened on a Thursday.

Peter Parker wasn’t expecting his life to change that day. He’d spent the afternoon helping May rearrange furniture in her apartment, then swung by the library to grab some books for a physics project. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But as he rounded the corner outside the coffee shop near Midtown High, he saw her.

She was sitting at one of the outdoor tables, a notebook open in front of her, her pen tapping absently against her lip as she stared off into the distance. The late afternoon sun caught in her hair, turning it to gold, and for a moment, Peter forgot how to breathe.

He didn’t know her, but something in his chest tightened, a pull so strong it stopped him in his tracks.

That’s her, a quiet voice in his mind whispered. That’s the one.

Peter spent the next week thinking about her. He didn’t even know her name, but she was burned into his mind like a photograph. Every time he walked past that coffee shop, he looked for her.

And then, on Monday, there she was again.

He almost walked past her, afraid of doing something stupid. But something about her—her calm focus, the way her head tilted slightly as she read—drew him closer. Before he realized it, he was standing next to her table.

“Uh, hi,” he said awkwardly, his palms sweating. “Is this seat taken?”

She looked up, startled. Her eyes met his, and Peter felt like the ground had shifted beneath him.

“No,” she said after a moment, her voice soft. “Go ahead.”

They talked for hours.

Her name was Y/N L/N, and she was working on a paper for her literature class. She liked poetry, old movies, and walking in the rain. She had a sharp sense of humor and a way of tilting her head when she was curious that made Peter’s heart race.

“You’re really into this superhero stuff, huh?” she teased, gesturing to the Spider-Man keychain on his backpack.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. He’s… kind of a role model, you know?”

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “I think Spider-Man’s great, but I bet the person behind the mask is even better.”

Peter blinked, caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. “Just a feeling.”

That night, Peter lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He’d always been skeptical of things like fate or destiny, but meeting Y/N felt… different. Like the universe had nudged him in her direction and said, Pay attention. This is important.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the things she loved, the way she’d said goodbye with a soft smile and a promise to see him again soon.

For the first time in a long time, Peter felt like maybe he didn’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.

They kept meeting at the coffee shop, and each time, Peter fell a little harder. He told her about his love for science, his dreams of making a difference. She told him about her favorite books, her plans to travel someday.

With her, Peter felt like he could be himself—not just Spider-Man, not just the nerdy kid from Queens, but all of him.

One evening, as they walked through the park, Peter found himself blurting out the thought that had been circling his mind for weeks.

“I think I was meant to meet you,” he said, his voice quiet but certain.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes wide. “What?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he continued, his cheeks flushing. “But from the moment I saw you, I just… I knew. Like you were supposed to be in my life.”

She stared at him for a moment, then smiled—a smile so warm it made his chest ache.

“Maybe I was,” she said softly.

Peter took her hand, his fingers lacing with hers, and for the first time, he felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Because with her, it was.

Peter didn’t usually believe in fairy tales. Life as Spider-Man had taught him that happy endings were rare, and nothing ever came easy. But as he walked through the park with Y/N’s hand in his, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d stumbled into one.

The two of them stopped by the fountain, the soft glow of the streetlights reflecting in the water. Peter glanced at her, watching the way the breeze played with her hair and the way her lips curved into a small smile.

“You’re staring,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Peter flushed and looked away, a shy grin tugging at his lips. “Sorry. It’s just… I don’t know. You’re kind of hard not to look at.”

Y/N laughed, and Peter thought it might be his new favorite sound.

The days turned into weeks, and Peter and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm. He found himself rushing through patrol just so he could see her, and she started bringing an extra coffee to their meetings, claiming she’d “accidentally” ordered two.

For the first time, Peter felt like he had something just for himself—something not tied to the weight of the world or his responsibilities as Spider-Man. Y/N didn’t know his secret yet, but she seemed to sense the heaviness in him anyway.

One day, as they sat on the grass in Central Park, she turned to him and asked, “What’s on your mind, Peter?”

He hesitated, staring down at the blades of grass between his fingers. “It’s… complicated.”

Y/N shifted closer, her hand resting lightly on his. “I like complicated.”

Peter glanced at her, searching her face for any sign that she might back away. But all he saw was patience and understanding, and it gave him the courage to say the words he’d been holding back.

That night, on the rooftop of her apartment building, Peter told her everything.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He braced himself for her reaction—fear, disbelief, maybe even anger.

But Y/N didn’t flinch. She didn’t run. Instead, she reached out and touched his hand, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I figured,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

Peter blinked. “You… figured?”

“Come on, Peter,” she teased gently. “You disappear all the time, you’re weirdly good at dodging things, and you have a Spider-Man keychain on your backpack.”

Peter let out a breathless laugh, relief flooding through him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” she said, her eyes warm.

Peter stared at her, overwhelmed by the weight of her trust. “You’re… okay with this? With me?”

“Of course I am,” she said simply. “I liked you before I knew you were Spider-Man. And now? I like you even more.”

For the first time in a long time, Peter felt like he could breathe.

From that moment on, things changed. Y/N became his confidant, his anchor, the person he turned to when the world felt too heavy. She patched him up after fights, helped him brainstorm solutions to problems, and even gave him a hard time when he pushed himself too far.

“You’re not invincible, Parker,” she scolded one night, dabbing antiseptic on a cut on his cheek.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he said with a grin, wincing as the antiseptic stung.

“Exactly,” she shot back. “Not Iron Man.”

Peter chuckled, leaning into her touch. “Yes, ma’am.”

One evening, as they sat on her fire escape watching the city lights, Y/N turned to him, her expression serious.

“Do you ever wish things were… different?” she asked.

Peter thought about it for a moment, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But if things were different, I might not have met you.”

She smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re such a sap, Parker.”

“Only for you,” he said softly, his hand finding hers.

And in that moment, as the city hummed around them and the stars blinked faintly above, Peter knew one thing for certain:

He might not have chosen this life, but he’d choose Y/N a thousand times over.

—————————————————————————

[maxwell-grant]

(SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS TIMES TWO)

I looked through camrips and tried putting together as many tidbits of dialogue as I could from that split-second comic cover interlude, since those tend to foreshadow the dialogue of the scenes in question. There’s some others I can’t make out due to image quality and we’ll have to wait for the streaming release to see more, but in the meanwhile I was able to make out these speech bubbles. I’m using “-” to fill in missing parts:

“Uncle Aaron!”

“-how much you need what I got and, trust me, that'll be the beginning of a whole new family business. Kid, your dad should be proud of you no matter what. Not making you scared to come out from behind that mask.”

“Yeah, that whole “Not-” thing

“Uncle Aaron, you can say whatever. But I can't let you kill this guy. I just can't.”. “Yeah, I-”

“You and I are going to take care of a bad guy. A real bad guy”. ”Who?”

(I’m assuming the named villain is Scorpion since the name starts with S-c-o and there’s a P, and also with the following line)

(images compiled by @tokyofro​)

“Did you look up the Scorpion on the web?” “Yes Uncle Aaron, I did”. “Then you know I wasn’t lying, he’s a dangerous cat”.  “What does this have to do with-”. “You wanna be a superhero, now’s your chance”

“You ran away? YOU RAN AWAY?! Is that the kind of man you are?

MILES: “You really don’t care who you hurt? What did the world do to you to make you think it’s okay for you to be this way? 

So my theory, going off by these and particularly the “What did the world do to you?” line from Miles and (presumably) Prowler!Miles telling him that they’re going to go after “a real bad guy”, is that Prowler!Miles is going to be exploring the idea of Miles Morales turned villain protagonist/anti-hero. It seems to be picking and uniting separate strands like Prowler’s original role as a darker counterpart to Spider-Man / a gadget-wielding morally compromised crimefighter who eventually turns face / Spider-Man-as-Batman, Earth-616 Miles being a villain, and Miles’s contentious relationship with his original setting and current status as an Ultimate Marvel refugee who quite literally jumped ship from the darker and all-around shittier home universe he was meant to be in, among others, to consolidate them into Miles’ confrontation with himself.

The first Spiderverse shows a lot how strongly Miles listens to and respects and values the input from his uncle (and vice versa, only Miles is able to bring Aaron out of the Prowler mask, even when Aaron knows he’s going to die the second he hesitates and uses that second to shield Miles’ identity), and he’s looking for guidance, someone to model himself after, because he’s a very intelligent kid trying to live up to the potential everyone keeps telling him he has, trying to live up to what his parents worked so hard to give him. He finds role models in Spider-Man and an entire group of Spider-People there to lead by example and catch him when he falls, and with his uncle giving his life away to not only save him, but urge him to stay on the right path. It wasn’t just meeting Peter Parker at the collider that saved Miles, it was rising up to the challenge in Spiderverse 1 and Uncle Aaron using his last breath to shut the door on Miles making the mistakes he did, and so Miles makes himself into the Spider-Man his world needs, filling in a spot needed upon left vacant.

Whether Earth-42 was supposed to have a proper Peter Parker Spider-Man and that never came to pass, or it was supposed to have it’s own Miles Morales get bitten and become Spider-Man like the Spot flashback indicates, Earth-42 Miles is what happens when none of that comes to pass. No Spider-Man protecting the world, no spider bite and sacrifice to pass along the mantle, no pressure and assistance from Aunt May and the others who’ve been there and can help him if he can help himself first, no Spider-Man mentors to show him the ropes, Jefferson dead and his mom having to struggle with Aaron’s help to get by, supervillain cartels burning the streets down, and the only person who can remotely help is his uncle, who will never get the heroic sacrifice or wake-up call to change his ways or inspire his nephew to strive for something better. Because there isn’t anything better, and if there is, it isn’t here, someone took it away. After all, Miles and Aaron don’t show any surprise upon hearing about all that different dimension spider-power talk, and whether they know or even blame Miles for taking the opportunity that was theirs, they’ll hardly be that thrilled to meet someone who clearly had better opportunities than they did, if he can talk about them being good guys with choices to be better.

It’s possible that Prowler! Miles isn’t even that much of a villain, or even as much of a mercenary as Uncle Aaron was as the Prowler. It’s possible, and far more tragic if so, if becoming the Prowler was simply as good as it got for this earth’s Miles. If it was the only way they could survive in a Sinister Six-run city and make ends meet and provide Rio with enough to get by, if it was all they could strive for in a world where there is nothing and no one to show a better way, or even if this is the only way Miles can help anyone and make amends for the sacrifice of his father, as most Spider-Men do upon losing their loved ones. Whether this Miles has never had any positive examples to follow, or worse, he once did and this is the best he can do in living up to them. Because on Spidey’s shadow, lives The Prowler, Spider-Man when forced to play by Batman rules.

No web swinging and super speed, so the motorbike will have to do. No healing powers or toughness, the body armor can only take so much. Incapacitating-yet-non-lethal thunderstrikes at your fingertips and invisibility are not an option (although MAN wouldn’t those be convenient for a caped burglar, huh), so you settle for high-tech murder claws and hope those and the camouflage do the trick in protecting you for another day. No guiding superheroes with your best interests in mind, only super-criminals and the only one of those you lucked into being on your family’s side. Your survival dangling on a knife’s edge, so if you don’t take that knife and use it, the next guy to take it won’t be so kind. Traits that are no stranger to Spider-Man stories or related characters, whether they predate him or follow in his example.

(Left-to-right: The Spider by Dan Schkade, Taylor Hebert (Worm) fan-art by tactilescream)

Or, what happens when your bug-themed crimefighter, with lots of personal baggage and trauma and flaws to contend with from the get-go, is thrust headfirst into surviving and defeating an endlessly escalating superpower-backed war on crime against which they are hopelessly outmatched, with no Spider-Safety Net status quo and super powers to catch them, as they fall and keep falling and keep weaving bigger handbaskets to catch larger handfuls of hell inside, because that’s what it means to be “the only thing standing between this city and oblivion” when you can’t juggle cars but everyone around you can, and they are more than willing to toss them at you and your mother and uncle whether you can fight back or not, so you might as well be able to, right?

And so we get the battle between Miles Morales of Earth-1610, who’s spent two movies proving himself to be not just as good a Spider-Man as any other, but The Most Spider-Man, the Spider-Man who’s the ultimate underdog and pariah as well as the ultimate fighter and scrapper, who beats hundreds of others to try and upend their ultimate fate. Versus the Miles Morales of Earth-42, his shadow come to roost, the one who could be anything except be Spider-Man, and so he can settle for being Not-Spider-Man until he can catch the real deal, and then they’ll have much to do together.

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post: The Ancients

The zone of music that Isaiah Collier, William Parker, and William Hooker inhabit has been around for quite some time, and one could point to mid-20th century sax-bass-drum trios led by Sonny Rollins, Ornette Coleman, and Albert Ayler as precedents for what they do. But if you A-B-ed their version of free, ecstatic jazz with earlier models, you’d not only hear the considerable energy that they generate together but its difference from earlier models. And given their diverse activities outside the trio, they might envision impacting all manner of cultural and spiritual action. 

Drummer William Hooker (b. 1946) first recorded in 1977, and while his music sometimes sounds like full-on free jazz, he has frequently recruited his fellow musicians from the rock realm or based on a shared enthusiasm for the spoken word. He’s usually heard leading bands, or occasionally in equal collaborations like his duo with Lee Ranaldo, but he’s made an exception to drum for William Parker. Parker (b. 1952) has been a part of the New York free jazz scene since the mid-1970s, when he played bass on Frank Lowe’s E.S.P. release Black Beings. He’s since written books, wielded a vast array of wind and stringed instruments, led big and small bands employing a myriad of improvisational and compositional methods, collaborated with singers and dancers, and backed eminences including Cecil Taylor, Peter Brötzmann and David S. Ware. Both men are based in New York. Saxophonist Isaiah Collier (b. 1998) is from Chicago. Like Parker, he things big; his recent multi-media work The 400 Years, is a thirteen-part consideration of African-American history from the slave trade to the present as told through music and movement. 

Parker had worked separately with the other two musicians prior to their formation as a trio for three concerts in Los Angeles and San Francisco in May, 2023. Their debut LP, The Ancients, was released by Eremite in the USA and Aguirre in Europe in January, 2025. It offers four side-long excerpts from the May concerts that showcase their purposeful synthesis of energy and expression. 

Bio by Bill Meyer

Ian Mathers: As one of the Dusted folks less familiar with/knowledgeable in the many facets of jazz, I admit I was a bit intimidated here; 90 minutes of free jazz seems a lot more daunting to me than, say, listening to the almost-as-long Water Damage LP from last year. But this afternoon I had a sustained burst of editing to take care of at my day job, so I threw on The Ancients as I got going, and that hour and a half practically flew by. I know I've tried listening to free jazz sporadically before (generally with pleasure, although for whatever reason it's not something I tend to reach for) but this is just about the easiest it's ever gone down. And yet the sets here don't feel diluted or entry-level at all (as far as I can tell as a neophyte). I was mostly paying conscious attention to Collier's sax, but all three trio members felt like they kept my attention. Am I just finally at a point in my life where jazz is starting to click more, or can those more already attuned to the nuances here tell me the ways this is exceptional?

Bill Meyer: Ian, you have gone straight to the point. In any genre, there's stuff that's good, stuff that's just okay and the rest. This album is the good stuff. It is accessible inasmuch as this music, while improvised, is played with a deep commitment to stating the groove. I think that's partly a function of the Hooker-Parker relationship. In his own bands, Hooker leads from the front and the rest of the musicians have to catch up. With Parker, I think he understands himself to be performing a different role and so the two of them are really locked into each other's playing. Another aspect contributing to accessibility is that I think that Collier is is in touch with song forms even when he's not playing a song. 

Bryon Hayes: You both have managed to articulate my thoughts on this recording.  The groove and the pacing of the Parker-Hooker rhythm section, and the way that they distribute their combined energies throughout each set, really kept me riveted.  I've heard both of these gentlemen in different settings and with different collaborators but never together, and they seem deeply in tune with each other here.  I'm also not an expert in the free jazz world, so I usually go by how a recording impacts me when deciding if I like it or not: whether I'm getting punched in the guts or whether I'm being probed in the emotional center of the brain.  This one falls in the latter category, as it feels rooted in soulfulness, especially Collier's playing - even when he's blowing his lungs out, there are little snatches of melody that really sing.  I really dig it. 

Bill Meyer: I’m certainly not an expert on Collier’s work, but because I live in Chicago I’ve had some opportunities to see him in diverse settings. Aside from the bands he leads, he sometimes sits in with other people; I’ve seen him with ensembles led by Hamid Drake and William Parker, where he does some AACM-style little instrument coloration as well as play saxophone. And I once saw a very curious solo concert where he mainly played sampler, coming up with something that sounded like a collage of some basement noise and solo keyboard fragments of contemporary r&b. 

In this trio, he seems very clear about his roll. He’s the spearhead, the focus of the rhythm section’s energy as well as his own. 

Jennifer Kelly: Okay, with the usual disclaimers about my not-super-familiarity or comfort with free improv, I’m finding that I like the third track the best, “2023-05-13 LA Set II.” Maybe that’s because it lets the bass and drums lead for an extended opening, at first a barely audible rumble of low-end and hands on drums, and then more of a conventional swing on cymbals with Parker’s bass bubbling up in synchrony and Collier, just sort of growling on sax.  His first long tone blows in like a fly swooping over, the tone dopplering against a swaggering rhythm.  And then you get the sort of song part of the piece, which is most of it, and I like the way the three principals meet, but very loosely, coming at the groove from different directions, everybody on his own trip but swerving suddenly back into the thick of it.  I hear them all echoing the same rhythm but not at the same time, one long note then a couple of short ones, daaah di di daah di di daah di di, and it works like machinery warped subtly out of true, volatile, intersecting, not quite making a monolith. 

Tim Clarke: I'm glad you mentioned the third piece, Jenny, as it's definitely my favorite on the record. It harnesses a particular feel between the players that really caught my ear. Noir / spy movie perhaps? The rest of the music, though clearly executed with sensitivity, frustrated my relatively straightforward ears. Just when the players seemed to be coalescing into something resembling a unified theme or groove that they could all dig into and explore thoroughly, someone would break away and the potential would be lost. I can hear the appeal of this music, but either don't have the patience to let it roam freely in the way it does, or simply need to be more familiar with the ways in which jazz musicians can flex song forms.