#baby parker

[trashartgalleries]

Bro, remember that time Steve and Tony got a divorce and Tony took over custody of Peter?

Cold War was a tough time for Stony shippers lolz

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

I didnt think I could depict my baby sister's eczema in such an obvious way in Microsoft Paint, but yep, that sure is eczema. Her skin is a lot better now and has been most of her life, but before we found out her allergies she was a very red-limbed baby.

[brainbubblegum]

I just know Spider-Punk volunteers to watch MayDay

[spiderman-withgreatpower]

AU where Peter has a cousin he is raised alongside p1

"Peter, can you come here?" May had called from the kitchen.

Peter came running in happily. He was seven years old now. He had been living with his Aunt and Uncle fully for a year. Although before then he often spent a lot of time with them, due to his parents jobs.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw his aunt stood nervously holding her husband's hands. Ben's arm around her and her close to him. They weren't sure how Peter would react to the news.

"Are you okay, Aunt May?" Peter asked, taking the arm of his aunt.

"Yes I'm fine." May answered with a warm smile.

She then kneeled down and kissed his forehead. Peter hugged her tightly.

"We have some really good news, Pete." Ben began. "We are having a baby."

Peter was silent for a longtime before he spoke.

"... If you guys have a baby...what happens to me? Are you guys gonna leave me?"

"Peter no, never." Ben answered.

"apsolutey not, Peter." Aunt May spoke as she picked up Peter in her arms. "We will continue to raise you and love you just as we always have. Your apart of this family forever. Just because it gets a little bit bigger doesn't mean we toss you out. You can be like the babies big brother. You can show him all your toys and favorite movies. You can teach him how to be the best kid in the world."

Peter gave a big smile and hugged his aunt. Then looked to his uncle back to his aunt.

"Then I'm happy for you both." Peter answered with a big smile.

****

Peter helped around the house more while Aunt May was pregnant. Between Uncle Ben and him, they wouldn't let her lift a finger. Ben even started cooking more, although May and Peter both strongly encouraged him to stop. His cooking was terrible.

Peter loved to cuddle up with his Aunt on the couch and he would talk to her baby bump. He would tell the baby inside how nice his family was and how much they already loved him. He would also talk to the bump about Star Wars. He really wanted the baby to like Star Wars.

***

After nine months, the day came.

Peter sat in the waiting room with Uncle Ben. Peter could see his uncle was stressed.

"Your gonna be a great Dad, Uncle Ben. I know it for a fact." Peter had told him.

Ben laughed.

"how do you know? How can you be so sure? I never done this Dad thing before."

"Cause you already are, to me. Your the best Dad I ever had. Your kind and fun. You always have to time to play with me and listen when I have a problem. You tell funny jokes and you get me sweets when Aunt May says no. Your the best Dad already, so now that your gonna have your own kid, I bet you will be even better."

Ben had tears in his eyes as he hugged Peter.

"Aw Peter your the best kid. If this baby is just half as great as you it will be amazing."

[hemlock-dreams]

How was their first kiss like?

(huge fan of you AU and art style<3)

First kiss? Spidey's (and Wade's) brain go out the window.

Unfortunately, most of Peter's body is poison. :(

I decided to combo the questions and there's an explanation under the cut.

Peter produces venom both on demand but also unconsciously when he's excited/high on adrenaline etc.

When he's producing venom, it mixes into his saliva and acts like a neurotoxin, which can produce intense highs that can quickly tip over into oversensitivity and pain.

His mouth is EXTREMELY sensitive because of this. Wade's skin is like the fourth of july for his brain.

Prolonged internal exposure (kissing/oral/licking a cut/etc) creates a headrush that leaves most normal people unconscious. Skin to saliva contact is just tingly.

(Making out for long periods of time/oral with MJ was NOT on the table- which had MJ coming to wrong conclusions.)

His blood is straight up poison. Would not recommend ingesting. (Don't eat brightly colored spiders, kids!)

His sweat is so negligible as to be be unnoticeable- unless you're wringing towels into your mouth.

His semen also produces intense sensation- mostly oversensitivity, that can be incredibly pleasurable, but can also tip into pain and paralysis for most people. Peter has no idea his semen can do this- because he's never experimented with it (always a condom. ALWAYS).

Because Wade has an incredible healing factor, as well as extensive nerve damage and scarring, he doesn't experience the negative aspects of Peter's venom. A big enough dosage could cause paralysis and death, but it's also going to have to be a WAY bigger hit than Spiderman would normally apply.

This is a super fun learning experience for them both!

Once again, thank you so much for all the support and the asks, it's been so fun figuring Peter's venom out and finding ways to play with him!

@eevylynn

[babybirbb]

i don’t know what’s funnier: spidernoir and spider-ham being invited to the spider society and them turning it down, or just straight up not being invited to join lmao

[erinwantstowrite]

itsy bitsy christmas

i got done writing the outline for the christmas oneshot and felt like drawing itsy bitsy peter and now here we are.... my son....

[awhoreintheory]

Circus Boy

Directly inspired by @erinwantstowrite 's art!!! post

Request from awesome amazing cool Anon

Over the years, circuses have lost their spark.

Dick would know— he’d literally grown up in one. Back then, the circus was a symphony of effort and artistry. Weeks, sometimes months, were spent perfecting routines. Performances were designed to dazzle, to inspire awe, no matter the country or culture of the audience. The comedy sketches weren’t just filler— they were genuinely funny, capable of drawing laughter even from the most reluctant parent dragged along by an excited child. Every act had a rhythm, a purpose, and above all, passion. The performers took pride in their craft, and the audience responded in kind, feeding off the energy, cheering and clapping until their hands were raw and their throats sore. 

Now? Now they were dull. Predictable routines recycled ad nauseam. Costumes that looked like they were bought in bulk from a clearance rack. Tents and stages slapped together with the barest effort to resemble grandeur. The magic, the joy—the soul of it all—had been replaced with a singular, glaring goal: profit. No one cared if the audience laughed, gasped, or even paid attention, so long as they paid their entrance fees.

But recently, whispers of something different had started making waves in Gotham: a circus gaining a reputation for being... well, different.

Dick’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t planned to go, at first. But the memories of his youth, of what the circus used to mean, stirred within him. Before he knew it, he’d wrangled (read: blackmailed) together as much of the family as he could to go see it. Which, wasn’t a whole lot considering quite a few were out of state currently, but it was enough to make him smile.

“Why must I come along? I do not see the point,” Damian groused, arms folded tightly across his chest as the group approached the circus grounds. Despite his protests, he made no move to make a stealthy exit.

“You’re coming because it’ll be good for you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair just to annoy him. Damian promptly swatted his hand away, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.

“You don’t even know if it’ll be good,” Tim chimed in, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “What if this thing is as boring as all the other ones you’ve complained about?”

“Then we’ll all get funnel cake and call it a night,” Stephanie said brightly, making it clear where her true excitement lay. “I’m in it for the food, anyway.”

Dick pouted. “You didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud!” 

“Don’t underestimate funnel cake,” Duke added with a smirk. “It might be the only thing saving this trip if the show’s a flop.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “You’re all so cynical. Just... trust me, okay? I have a feeling about this one.”

Sure, a lot of the decorations seemed cheap thus far, but Dick can’t blame them. They’re clearly low budget, with only two shows a week, versus the seven to ten a week Dick was used to. The difference was the genuine passion and excitement in the eyes of the performers. And they were just doing pre-show stunts on the street to rouse excitement! 

Tim hummed thoughtfully. “This place has been gaining rapid popularity,” he said, the subtle edge in his tone making it clear he was already analyzing every detail. Dick saw his fingers twitch as if to take a picture. 

Dick glanced over at him but didn’t comment. He recognized that tone— Tim was in detective mode, quietly piecing together threads no one else could see yet. He did, however, take the opportunity at his siblings' distraction to subtly herd them in the direction of the tents, eager to get a good front-row seat. Damian noticed, but he didn’t do much more than roll his eyes.

Steph, however, rolled her eyes dramatically. At Tim, not Dick. “Can you just enjoy one thing without looking for a criminal conspiracy, Tim?”

Tim matched her with a roll of his own eyes, the two slipping into a bickering match that’d put an old married couple to shame if they weren’t so aggressively gay. Meanwhile, Dick let his attention wander to the stage, studying the equipment with the practiced eye of someone who’d lived this life.

Suspended high above was the trapeze rig, its bars wrapped in worn leather, the steel cables taut and secured to thick iron frames. The safety net below, while a little faded, looked sturdy enough to do its job. Not brand-new, but serviceable.

To one side, a highwire stretched across a dizzying height, its slim cable shimmering faintly under the tent lights. The rigging showed some signs of age— slightly dulled bolts and scuffed counterweights—but nothing that made Dick worry. It would hold, even if the daredevil walking it would need nerves of steel.

A teeterboard sat center stage on the ground, its spring mechanism ready to launch performers into flips and vaults. Nearby, a stack of brightly painted crates and barrels hinted at comedic skits. Clowns would probably tumble over them with exaggerated flair, while a sturdy seesaw-like prop suggested slapstick gags involving plenty of unintentional (and intentional) falls.

The whole setup had a charming scrappiness to it. The equipment could use a little TLC, sure, but Dick had no doubt it would hold up under pressure. He could tell the performers had put their trust in it, and that meant something.

For a moment, Dick felt a flicker of nostalgia. The way the crew moved, the crisp efficiency with which they handled the gear— it reminded him of home, of the way his parents had always treated the stage with reverence, as though it were sacred ground.

“Do you see how high that wire is?” Duke muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension as he followed Dick’s gaze.

“I see it,” Dick replied softly, his heart tightening. He couldn’t help but wonder who had the guts to walk that cable, let alone pull off any stunts on it. He’d definitely have to stick around and chat them up, maybe have a little friendly competition. 

“Awe, man,” Duke sighed, visibly disappointed. “Guess we weren’t excited enough.”

Turns out “early” wasn’t early enough because the seating area was packed. The whole first three rows were aggressively claimed, forcing the group to settle for seats in the middle of the fourth row.

Steph and Duke promptly excused themselves to grab popcorn—or, more accurately, for Steph to scout for funnel cake. Dick had to respect the consistency.

Damian glanced at Dick, then at Tim with a withering look. “Drake, cease your ramblings. They sour my mood.”

Tim blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait, just me? Steph was talking way more!”

Steph, who had been halfway out of earshot, whirled around with mock offense. “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one turning this into an episode of ‘True Crime: Circus Edition.’” 

“Yeah, because you’re too busy planning how to steal funnel cake from children,” Tim shot back, crossing his arms. Damian’s eyebrow twitched. Dick wondered why peace was but a mere illusion. 

“Oh, please,” Steph quipped. “You’d be the kid I steal it from, Drake.”

Before Tim could come up with a retort, and Damian became a convicted felon, the lights dimmed, cutting their bickering short. A hush fell over the crowd as the familiar low hum of a drumroll began to build.

The ringmaster strode into the center of the stage, clad in a dazzling coat of crimson and gold that shimmered under the spotlight. If you looked any closer than that, you’d see how tacky and cheap it was. His booming voice carried effortlessly across the tent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to a night of wonder, daring, and delight!” the ringmaster announced, his voice ringing through the tent as the steady drumroll built the tension. “Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the astonishing, the absolutely unbelievable! The show begins... now!”

The drumroll reached its peak, and with a dramatic flourish, the spotlight swept upward to reveal the first performer perched high above the stage. A man in a sparkling gold costume waved grandly to the crowd before swinging onto the trapeze. The audience clapped politely as he performed a few rudimentary tricks— basic flips and graceful swings that showcased control but lacked flair.

Two more performers joined him, each clad in similar glittering costumes. They moved with confidence, transitioning through formations and passing between trapezes, but the moves were predictable and lacked the edge Dick was hoping to see. Certainly, nothing that would make this rinky-dink circus as popular as it got so quickly. 

Tim leaned toward Dick, his tone flat. “You dragged us here for this?”

“Underwhelming,” Damian muttered, his expression neutral but his tone sharp.

Dick didn’t respond immediately, though he couldn’t disagree. The tricks were technically fine— safe, practiced, polished— but there was no spark, no passion. No magic. He resigned to going home disappointed and also to the inevitable flaming via siblings. 

But then, just as one of the performers finished an awkward landing on the platform, the ringmaster’s voice boomed again.

“And now, prepare yourselves for the prodigy of the skies, the one and only Amazing Arach-Kid!”

The spotlight shifted upward again, revealing a much smaller figure poised on a separate platform, high above the others. It was a boy— young and wiry, dressed in sleek crimson and black, his face obscured by a half-mask (not dissimilar to their domino masks, actually) that glimmered faintly in the light. For a moment, the crowd was silent, uncertain what to expect.

Without warning, the boy leaped.

The gasp from the audience was audible as the kid— Arach-Kid?— launched himself into a dramatic triple flip, his body twisting gracefully through the air before he caught the trapeze with flawless precision. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the tent shifting instantly.

He didn’t stop there. Swinging with a force that sent his trapeze soaring higher than any of the others had dared, he released at the peak of his arc and spun into a double somersault. Instead of catching the next trapeze, he landed neatly in the arms of one of the adult performers, who looked genuinely startled by the boy’s precision. He grinned, waving excitedly at the audience as they roared with applause. 

From there, the routine transformed. Arach-Kid became the centerpiece of the act, seamlessly incorporating daring flips, twists, and transitions between trapezes. He was passed between the adults with perfect timing, their previous mediocrity eclipsed by his sheer skill and energy.

“Whoa,” Duke murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s... good.”

“Who is that kid?” Tim asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Better than the rest of them combined,” Damian said bluntly, though his tone carried the faintest hint of approval.

The boy ended his routine with a jaw-dropping quadruple somersault, catching the final trapeze one-handed and hanging upside down with effortless control. Gasps and cheers erupted from the audience, their applause thunderous as he let himself swing for a moment, letting the crowd bask in his daring. Then, with a fluid motion, he swung back, releasing the trapeze bar for one final flourish.

Dick leaned forward, his breath catching as the kid’s body twisted into the unmistakable maneuver— the signature move of the Flying Graysons.

The crowd roared as he executed the technique perfectly, his form flawless, his timing impeccable. He landed with a clean dismount, arms raised triumphantly, and offered the crowd a playful bow before darting off to the wings. Even with the stage empty, shouts and applause echoed for a long time after the boy left. 

For a moment, Dick couldn’t move. His stomach churned as memories of his parents on that same trapeze flooded his mind. No one else knew that move. No one could. His parents had created it, and Dick had learned it from them. It was their legacy— his legacy.

So how, in the name of all that made sense, did this random kid just pull it off perfectly?

The lights shifted again, smoothly transitioning to the next act: a somewhat clumsy but undeniably entertaining tightrope routine. One performer started with a wobbling walk, arms flailing for comedic effect. Another joined, balancing precariously with a broomstick for support. The final performer added a unicycle to the mix, pedaling shakily across the thin wire as the audience laughed and clapped in delight.

It was… objectively funny.

But Dick barely noticed. His good mood had evaporated, replaced by a heavy knot of unease in his chest. At this point, they must have a hive mind with how they immediately filed out of the tent without a single word exchanged. 

“That was—” Tim started, breaking the tense silence.

“Dick,” Steph interrupted, her voice low, “did he just—?”

“That was your move,” Tim finished firmly, his eyes locked on Dick’s.

“It’s not possible,” Duke added, glancing at the now-empty trapeze rig. “Right? It’s your family’s thing. There’s no way some random kid from Gotham knows it.”

“I am more concerned with how he knows it,” Damian said, his voice cutting. His eyes darted to Dick. “This is your domain, Richard. You must have answers.”

Dick didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing shallow. In disbelief, he muttered, “I don’t.”

Steph frowned. “Okay, well... what do we do? Do we just ignore the fact that some kid pulled off your impossible secret family move?”

“No,” Dick said sharply, his voice colder than any of them expected. “We don’t ignore it. We find out who he is, how he learned it, and what the hell is going on.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Do you think someone’s trying to get your attention? Like, deliberately?”

Dick shook his head, though his face betrayed his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it’s... it’s possible, but...” He exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “I need answers. This isn’t something you just pick up on YouTube.”

The group left the small but packed circus, their earlier excitement replaced by a shared tension. The cool night air did little to clear their heads as they walked in a tight huddle, glancing over their shoulders as if the boy would materialize out of the crowd.

“Something’s not right,” Tim said, breaking the silence.

“Obviously,” Damian muttered.

“I mean it,” Tim snapped. “Moves like that— you don’t just do them. It takes years to learn without a teacher.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re sure no one outside your family knew it? Like, absolutely sure?”

“Positive,” Dick said firmly. “The only people who knew it are gone. Except me.” His voice dropped as he added, “Or at least, they’re supposed to be.”

The group exchanged uneasy looks, about both the situation and Dick’s reaction to it. It takes quite a bit to rattle him, so to see him, well, rattled was weird. Beyond weird. It was downright wrong. 

“Either way,” Duke said cautiously, “we’re going to figure this out. Right?”

“Oh, we will,” Dick said, his voice grim. “We don’t leave things like this unanswered.”

As they disappeared into the Gotham night, paranoia settled over them like a second skin. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stay a mystery for long. 

[iwasbored777]

The height difference in ITSV vs in ATSV is killing me 😭 Miles and Gwen were so shorter than Peter, now they're almost as tall as him

[milimeters-morales]

this is so funny

[abi7100]

Everytime Peter and Tony get into an argument whether big or small, Peter always mumbles an apology right before storming off. He didn't get the chance to apologize to Ben about their argument before he died, And he won't let that happen again. He Won't.

[pandadrake]

Spider-Society and The Day of Lots of Involuntary Trips to Earth-19999. (Finally finished this, god damn.)

I hadn’t seen any takes on what Spider-Society was like during Spider-man: No Way Home (2021), so I thought about it too hard.

I.e. I pulled up a clip of No Way Home to see what the Peter-abduction spell would look like from Miguel’s POV, then realized he'd have no idea what he's looking at and would probably mistake it for something else.

[emichevy]

NOIR HEAD CANONS!! (Part 2)

More will come about the others too 🦅

[tanuki-pyon]

Happy Holidays!!!! Secret Santa gift I made for @tracedinairlwa :) sleepover with the girlies

[shu-of-the-wind]

peter b spent the entirety of across the spiderverse being like "listen you know what cured my depression? my MAGIC BABY"

[hemlock-dreams]

Your Peter looks like he's the one who will be calling Wade "Baby Boy" instead of the other way around

Ur absolutely, 10000% right, anon.