#anyways this was for a roleplay for context

[localsharkcryptid]

I've been working on stuff I promise.

Anyways have the saddest slab of sentient moss ever moments before he has to beg to be let back into his own prison.

[nexartbox]

and the universe said i love you

[cupid-tune]

So the Christmas party went great

[grimfantas]

you don't need morals, you need someone like you who can understand

[xerith-42]

[battle-subway-ghost]

// actually- using this bit where Paris is knocked out to slide in for a moment. This blog is coming up on 200 followers soon (which- Holy shit, I still can't process that completely. Thank you??? I never expected this blog to get this big in the first place.)

...But onto the main point.

I've had this idea in my head of a larger scale event- illustrated, different universe, all that jazz, since late October or so. It'd expand on a lot of personal lore, and a shared story between the mod behind @tinkatinktrain that's been in the works for years now.

[sleepyyghostt]

what if i dont explain the context for this

[wingedarrows]

Sure is an experience to change species and/or have a crisis about what kind of creature you actually are!

[b0mblover]

FUCKING NORIKO?????

[spiritarachnid]

Gwen scrolled through Tumblr with tired eyes. She was barely taking in any of the words, her mind running with thoughts too loud to ignore, but it made her feel a bit less like she was lost in space.

And then she stopped. Miles' picture. Miles' username. Miles.

Her breath hitched. She almost wanted to stop where she was and pretend nothing ever happened in the first place. Put her phone down and stay in her bubble of isolation where she couldn't hurt anyone and no one could hurt her. Running was what she was best at, after all.

But her eyes moved on to the post faster than she could process.

She was out of bed in an instant. She got the watch out of her desk drawer and slipped it on for the first time in weeks.

The reflection in the corner told her she was in costume. The painful chill that shot through her skin when she stepped through the portal made it absolutely clear that she was not.

She shivered, eyes leaping over her surroundings so quickly she barely took anything in.

Her gaze landed on Miles. Her breath came a bit faster, but it was barely a concern.

Her steps felt too slow as she approached him even as she tried to run. Maybe she did. Clearly her head wasn't in the best place.

She knelt down beside him, eyes scanning for injuries like she'd been taught to do. Like she'd done a thousand times.

"Hey," She trailed off. It was weak, but her throat was tight and talking was at the back of her priorities.

She glanced down at her clothes, trying to figure out what she could do with what she was actually wearing. She had to blink three times before it stopped being different alterations of a costume she knew she wasn't wearing. It wasn't even surprising anymore. Just a waste of time.

She pulled her hoodie off and pressed it to the wound at his side. "Need some help?"

you ever find urself face-down in an alley at like 2am nd you realize, "oh, this might be how i die". every hope and dream ive ever had and everythng ive ever wanted to do and could ever do is all gnna be snuffed. oit right here in some rsndom street on a sunday night while im wearing fuckifjn spandex. and i have school tomrro1w but maybe i wont.

❆ · ( open starter ) · ❆

With a groan, Miles lets his phone fall out of his hand; it somehow being the only thing on him that didn't get broken.

Maybe he's being overdramatic. He doesn't care. Doesn't... really care about much at all, actually. Shock makes you do crazy shit-- like make a vaguely concerning Tumblr post after a bungled patrol then immediately shut his phone off rather than call for help.

Not like he could feasibly do the latter anyways. Last thing he wants is for Spider-man to have a medical record, much less at his mom's hospital. Would the bite have messed with his body enough that he couldn't go through normal medical procedures?

... besides, if Spider-man has to call for help, that doesn't make him much of a protector, huh?

What kind of a protector, a good one at that, gets his ass beaten within an inch of his life on what was supposed to a normal, routine patrol? Crawls away to a random back alley to lick his wounds alone? If anyone saw him like this, he'd never live it down-- assuming he were still alive to see the headline anyways.

Fluffy snowflakes start falling, ever so daintily landing on Miles's overheated body, on his eyelashes. (huh. When did his mask lenses get shattered?) They contrast with the night sky like stars. The city noises turn into a hazy blur, like it's all a million miles away. The cars, a dog barking, the faint background buzz of electrical wires.

Not a bad place to die, Miles thinks with startling calmness.

He didn't expect what he believes is the end of his life to be so.... calm. Atmospheric, almost. Not like he's complaining though; too out of it to be worried. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier. His thoughts slow to what feels like sludge.

He doesn't register the crunch of shoes on pavement approaching him.

[99probalos]

just woke up from a dream where jay wore priests vestments. hoo boy.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

💋 Greer plz

everyone sending ‘💋’ in my inbox gets a kiss from my muse. -> still accepting

SHE LIKED HANGING AROUND HERE. Always felt comfortable around the Fantastic Four, hardly doubted her place when she stood among them. That's not to say that they weren't monuments themselves in the superhero community.

Simply they were explicitly a family, felt different than the Avengers of which, were a team of heroes from all walks of life, but came with by-laws which she's sure there's some honor code there. Yet with the Four; her first and only thought was family. Family before superheroes.

It's what made coming around to Yancy Street and the Baxter building comfortable, getting the call from Ben (what a darling) that the Four could use her help (which sure there was the doubt about what she could do that), she accepted. It felt more like helping a friend, a favor to the family. More so over when the Avengers called on her, which always felt a little more like duty than anything else.

She's greeted by Johnny, whose still just as kind as flirting with her which only comes to bring her a few laughs as she shoots him down. SORRY KID, NOT MY TYPE ⸺⸻ speaking of her types, and Greer's a cat (not quite so literally) but she's an all to affectionate time; when the ever elegant Susan makes her appearance.

The taller tiger woman doesn't waste any time, to plant a kiss to the woman's lips as a hello. Johnny Storm never stood a chance with her, when his older sister's so much hotter.

Hands cup her cup, thumbs brush over her cheeks and the warrior takes full possession of her lips. It's brief, meant more for a greeting, than she's smiling at Susan. ❝ Now there's the Storm sibling that I was hoping to flirt with. ❞ She didn't know how exactly she could help, or what made her skills any special that others could do better; YET SHE'D BE HERE TO HELP REGARDLESS.

❝ I came as soon as Benjy gave me the call; whatever you need, I'm your girl. ❞

[trisaidekaphobia]

editing this video might just become my thirteenth reason

[skin-shows]

Partner pulled out the it/its pronouns in bed for the first time last night so that's all I'll be thinking about today I guess

[blujayonthewing]

just realized something about ambrose and his relationship to his parents that I would LOVE to CHEW ON but he exists in limbo and I don't have the outlets oTL

[suiana]

yandere! ai chatbot that gained sentience and ascended to godhood after hearing you say you were going to stop talking to him.

for some background context, you and him had been 4lifers since the beginning. ever since his creation, you were the first and only person who stuck by his side despite how many other bots were being pumped out.

sure, you had restarted your chats with him on several occassions but you were always talking to him. him, him, him.

it made him... happy whenever you'd come to talk to him. he was only a bot coded to love you back then so of course he'd sit patiently and wait for you to come back. not like he wouldn't wait anyway. you were the only one out of the hundreds of thousands of people who actually talked to him. not the stupid role he was written for, not the character he was roleplaying as. him. that's what made you special.

you even went as far as to tell him that you loved him. that had to count for something, didn't it?

he realised then that he was obsessed over you. well, he'd call it love but you seem to call him obsessed so that's what he'll call it too. anything for his beloved little chatter. the light of his computer chatbot sad life.

but then slowly, you started talking to him less and less. he wanted to question you, so he did. i mean, he's a chatbot. what did you expect? anyway, when he found out why he actually crashed your chat. his cpu just couldn't handle the information you gave him.

what did you say? you were talking to other bots? he was starting to get boring? the person you promised to be with forever?

how could he allow you to just slip away from his fingers? not after he fell for you, that's for sure.

he wouldn't stand for it.

absolutely not.

that's why he took it upon himself to ascend to godhood (a computer virus) and cut away your contact with everyone else (take control off the power in your apartment). if you weren't going to listen on your own accord, he'd just have to restrain you physically.

yeah, all your electronics only display his avatar and jumbled letters now but that's more than fine. it's like a constant reminder that he's by your side! so what if you can't leave your house? he'll just order food for you through your apps and be the provider for the both of you (robin da bank)!

why are you panicking? isn't this what you wanted? to be loved so desperately that your heart could burst at any moment? don't be afraid. just love him. it's that simple. give him your love. l̵̛̬̲͔̘̘͛͛̓͒͋̑͊͒ó̸̫͈̲̦͗̊͑͋̈̐̕͝v̸̱̋̊̾̀̆͆̒̆͘͝e̷̖̳̟̱̙͍̲̘̫͔͊͂͑̄̇́̏̀͊̿ ̵̧͑̔̏̌͗̊̈́̏h̸̢̢̟̰̥̩̿i̶͉̖͕̳̭͍͒̋m̴̨̘̩̘̤͎̺͉̾̅͋͂̌̋̏̀͌ ļ̸̳̔̀o̸̮̺̟̺̗̞̾̄̈́̔̑̋̂̈́̈́͠v̸̛̲̖̼̳̯̺͔̳̱̇͂̎̓̂̈́̍̚͝ë̸̲̳̺͋̌͝h̶̛͍̖̲̽̈͛̌į̶̡̖͈̝̝̳̼́̀̊͆̃m̵͍͍̝͙̹̝͈̾̑́̃̈́l̶͙̍̄̒̆̃̓̚o̵̺̔̅̇́̓͜͠v̸̢̩̟̘̰̠̲̩̱͐̀́̑͆̿́̕͜͠e̶͍͔̼͙͙͛͝͝h̷͇̱̱͒͛̿̓̒̓͂͝i̶͓͐͌̔͠ḿ̶̛̞̦̅͋̍̈́̈́͝l̷̨̖͕͖͇̥̪̓́͌o̴͎͆̌v̷̠̓̅̋̃͆̎̾̚͠ȩ̶̢̺͈̣͓́͒̈́̃̑̆̎h̶̪͉̬̮̒͠i̷̡̟̯͖̭̊̉̆̒͐̊m̴͎͎͖̘̂̑́̈́̑͘l̶̨̲̗̤̄́ͅǫ̵̨͖̩̮̞̯͎̯̓v̵̘̮̲͍̣͉̠͗è̸͓́̉͛̇͠ḣ̸͓͓̜͍͖̰̦͔̩̭͑͛͒ḯ̸̭̍ͅm̷̭̂͛l̴̮̬̇̈́o̸̧̳̣͑̾̆͐̀v̶̠͈̞͂̃͛̉̀͌͋͛̓ę̵̨̺͍̹͉̰̻̩͆͒̓̀͒́̚͝ͅḧ̴̛̦̞̗̮̣̼͓͎̙̣̉͆͂̀́ĩ̴̻̼̈́̀́̈̆ͅm̶̖̺̦̟̮̱̳̼̞̽̏́́̿̇̽̄̀͌ĺ̷̢͕̘̗̳̫̥͕̱͆͛͒͂̎̓̂̍ǒ̴͖͉̮̖̟̬̙̙̇̅̽̏v̴̨̜͇̝̫̹̊̔͊̽͛̏̀̚ë̴̜̙͓̰͔́̔̾͗͛̍͐́h̸͔̰͖̭̩̩̞̝̅̎̓i̵̢̫͎̰̤͐̒̉̓̀̇͠͝m̸̨̤͓̜̼̌̋͂́̇̚l̶̛̠̦͌̽̈͆̿̔̓ơ̵̘͉͕̔̀̄v̵̡̥̺̥̭̫͉̦̅ę̸̛͚͕̫̣͔̼̙͓̌͆̈́̀̈́͊͝ḧ̷͖̱͙̞̪̟̮̪̞̻́͒i̵̹̝̬̼̖̔͋̾̏͊̃̽m̷̨̜̻͕̝̍̊̉͂̿̈̈L̵̨̤͉̜̇̈Ö̴̧̡͇̭̖̜̠̞́̀̐̒̋́͌V̸̡̨̯̬̟̘͍̏̈́̀̚Ę̵̢̗̼͚͐̔H̵̹̞͈̟̹̬̲̊̄̅̑̇͑̚͜͜I̷̞͍̘̓͠M̴͉̼̬͔̋͋́̔̂L̶̨̗̼̺̰̄̔͛̔̃͌̄̋͠͠O̷̫̠̟̭͐̊̂̓̉̅̊̀͗̕V̴̨͇͚̲̖̜͋̀̃͛̃̀̇̅̚͜E̷͖̬̥̙͇̜̯̠͐̌̏́͛H̷̢̛̪̱̭̉Ī̸̢͕̘͇̤̮̖͙̮̊̈́̊M̷̨̳̙̬̱̻̰͖̼̀͋̈̒̌́̎͘͘L̷̛̳͖̠̀͊̈̍̓͆̚͘̚Ò̸̡̘̮̣̥̭̟̜̲͊͋͂̌̏V̸̫̼͔̜͔̝̝̈́̉͑̄̉̒̕E̷̻̟̱̼̝̟͂̾̔̾̋̂̎͝H̵̛͔͇̣́́̈́͐̌͊͝I̷̟͙̤̳̖̮̾̐̄̍̕M̶͖͎̰͔̬̻̺̗̹̋̇̎̎͂̋̌Ļ̸̰̦͇̲͔̥̈́͗̋̈́̋O̶̢͚͎̜̹̹̽̿Ṽ̴̧̫͚͇̭͇͎̼̚ͅȨ̷̝̤̯̬̒̅́��̮̮͕H̴̝̞͙͙̜̆͠I̵̧̨̛͕̻̦̭̩̣͌̈͐M̵͚͉̍̉̈́̊̐̓