#cw mention of spiders

[thegreatestjournalistofalltime]

One of the wildest things about having ADHD is when you actually remember to take your meds, but OOPS! You just hyperfocused on the wrong thing for two hours when you needed/wanted to do something else. Because you were having a conversation with someone about a thing, or you had a tab open. Or you remembered a thing you had wanted to look up, that should have been a quick google search, but now you're waist deep in reading material about it...

Besties, I've been scrolling through various pictures and info about different kinds of spiders and moths for a solid two hours.

Because a daddy long legs decided to move into my room, and I was concerned about its well-being because I hadn't seen it move at all in a while. And looking into that made me go, "Hm... I like moths."

WHAT'S THE CORRELATION!? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, BUT THE NEXT THING I DO KNOW IS THAT I'M LOOKING AT PICTURES OF MOTHS LIKE, "OH, THAT LOOKS LIKE A KIND OF SPHINX MOTH," LIKE I'M SOME FUCKING EXPERT ON THE SUBJECT.

... Anyway, barring any other rabbit holes I might trip into, I'm hoping to write more today.

And I was right. It was a kind of sphinx moth.

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 1

Summer rolls across the valley territories with a vengeance. The sparse mountain territory of Loudclan offers little reprieve from the ever present sun that beats down on the cats. While most patrols rush back to camp to take shelter in the caves during the midday hours, young warriors itch for a chance to prove themselves, and evidence of trespassers provides just that for Fiercestripe's patrol.

A fight breaks out between the patrol and the farm cats. Though the clan-cats are highly trained fighters, save for Fiercestripe they are untested in battle, and are outnumbered more than 2:1. There will certainly be losses.

[clangen: *takes everyone's favorite characters, throws them in a blender, and sets it to liquefy* me: *twirls my little metaphorical evil mustache* ahh, yes, just as I planned... For real though, I am so glad to finally get this moon (half of it at least) out to you guys! It is definitely the biggest and most time and skill intensive moon so far and I had a ton of fun drawing it! Unfortunately, that means that the second part is going to take a similarly long while to finish, but I hope that the quality of them makes up for the wait! I hope you guys all enjoy! If you're a little lost as to who the farm cats are check out this pmv and this family tree]

Edit: It's been pointed out to me that Rosehiptree's age is wrong here. That's my bad, this was a HUGE project and while I did my best to not make any mistakes it slipped past me. She's 14 moons old, the same as Dogwoodmoth, but it would be more trouble than it's worth to change it, given the size of the moon not allowing me to upload images on mobile, so lets all just do me a favor and pretend it says 14 instead of 13. Thanks!

First Moon

Next Moon

[the-kr8tor]

LOSER HOBIE LOSER HOBIE LOSER HOBIE…

The requests are open?

Then I shall make a request 🤭

Do you know about secret Santa??? Basically it’s where people have to randomly pick their person to whom they will give smt (a gift). And now imagine Hobie has a big and deep crush on you in HS and then he has to get you a gift. He’s just so sweet and thinks his gift out and through for you and when you find out it’s him that got you the most amazing gift, he’s super shy and stuff. 🥰 (maybe he gets a lil kiss at the end, and then he just doesn’t know what to do and can’t sleep at night, debating if he should ask you out. Maybe a shared Christmas night 🙈)

Take your time and enjoy writing, no rush!! 🫶🏻

LOSER! HOBIE!!!!!!! 😍😍 Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned wearing hair pins before) CW food mentions, High school AU, Hobie has a crush, loser! Nerd! Hobie, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Your whole class is sat around in a circle, giggles floating above whenever it's someone's turn to give their secret santa a present. You've written on your wishlist that you wanted anything that has anything to do with music, whether it's a poster of your favourite artist, a record, or a pair of headphones, you'd be happy for anything really. The atmosphere is filled with glee, the food that everyone bought for the party sits on a long table. Holiday cookies, cakes, and soda were primarily the common food brought for the potluck, save for a few spaghetti, and barbecue brought by someone who had the foresight to bring something that isn't sweet.

Chuckling at your seatmate who got the ugliest puppy plushie you've ever seen, you don't notice Hobie, aka your maths tutor and the one you've befriended the whole year, shuffling in his seat. He sits adjacent to you, eyes glancing towards your smiling face from time to time. You're well aware of his crush on you, everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. All the side glances, soft touches and the way he occasionally stutters whenever you scooch closer to him at the library are direct evidence of his attraction. And you can't deny that you feel the same, even playfully hinting at your own affection for the said man blatantly in front of his face. The whole class watches the obvious crush and ongoing train wreck that is you and Hobie tip-toeing around the feelings.

So when Hobie got your name from the bucket of names, he was beyond ecstatic, albeit terrified of what he's going to get you for secret santa. Add the fact that you might've picked his name amongst the list has him fidgeting in his seat. It has his nerves on high alert.

He tries to act cool when it's his turn to hand the gift that he painstakingly made for you. The gift consists of countless hours of him sitting with his cassette player, back aching and eyes heavy from staring at the familiar titles of songs that you like most and categorising it to best fit the theme or mood he's trying to convey. With his breath stuck in his throat, he stands up, lanky legs untangling from the crossed position, almost tripping himself over from his untied shoelace.

“Teach!” The nickname you've given him has his heart jumping in place. Your smile widens at who picked your name, the rest of the class watch on with bated breath. “What'd you get your favourite student?”

He softly smiles, handing you the magazine wrapped gift that's topped off with a sparkly red ribbon. “A scientific calculator.” Joking, you feign an offended gasp whilst the class snickers at your known enemy that is maths.

“If it's a calculator then that means I won't need you tutoring me anymore, Hobie.”

Your classmates look at you and then to Hobie, waiting for a clever or even a flirty retort from him. They're used to the back and forth between you two, but you always seem to win and with Hobie walking away with a flustered look and clammy hands.

“Nah, it just means that you've graduated from usin’ a regular calculator.”

The way the whole class rolled their eyes simultaneously in disappointment would have the earth rotate in reverse. You and Hobie are incredibly oblivious to it all. How could he take his attention away from you when you look at him with such fondness? And how could you look away from him when he looks so adorable with his bottom lip all bitten from trying to tamp down his own smile? He looks handsome when he's flustered, more so when he's staring at you all smitten.

Smiling, you wrap the end of the ribbon around your finger. “Can I open it now, or will we just stare into each other’s eyes well into new years?”

Clearing his throat, he finally notices all the eyes on him and you. “Sure, love.” The moment the term of endearment escapes his lips, he swears he heard someone from the circle squeal quietly.

“Okay!” your smile doesn't fade the entire time you were carefully unwrapping the present. Your heart skips a beat at the bundle of mixtapes in your hand. “Oh,” eyes swelling up with happy tears, you can't believe that he remembered every single song you mentioned in passing during the hours of his tutoring. You flip through the pile, each having different titles that fits the songs he mixed together written in his own hand. There's countless doodles dotted along the tapes, each having their own Hobie flare.

Your sudden quietness has Hobie queasy, he suddenly feels like he made the wrong move. “I—” starts, and you immediately spring from your seat to hug him. Before he could get over the shock of it all, you're already unlatching yourself from him. The look on his face is worth a thousand words. His eyes are wide, mouth agape as sweat dribbles from his forehead. It's the middle of London winter, and yet he feels like he's about to melt into a puddle.

“This is amazing, Hobie. Thank you.” You embrace the tapes, placing it right above your heart as you stare at him with so much affection that he would think that you reciprocate his feelings. (You do.)

“You're welcome, love.” His trembling hand reaches for yours. With trepidation, he instead moves further to cup your elbow, thinking that he's not quite ready to hold your hand just yet. Or that you're not comfortable with him holding you when in fact you want it just as hard as him.

With your teacher calling your name and the sound of the entire class’ squealing and teasing has died down, it's your turn to give your gift to your secret santa. Which unfortunately for Hobie, he's not so lucky to be the recipient of it.

Throughout the whole party, you can't stop yourself from glancing at him across the room. And he can't help but look at you amongst the crowd. But you two always manage to miss each other's loving stare.

After the gift giving, it's time to eat. You barely heard the call because you were too busy with reading each of the cassette tapes and the song lists that are written on each one. And Hobie was too busy trying to fend off his friends’ teasing to have a chance to grab a plate or even talk to you.

Once your friend taps you and wakes you up from your longing, you stand up to grab a plate. Coincidentally, Hobie's already there right next to the table, getting a slice of red velvet cake.

You inhale deeply, despite your more blatant flirting and unabashed teasing, you're nervous to talk to him now that you truly know that he really does like you. That he likes you enough to listen and remember the things you talk about when you're so used to people doing the opposite to you.

“Hey, teach.” You duck to look at him whilst he fights with the cake. “Or should I call you Santa now?”

He almost jumps in place from the sudden appearance and the close proximity. “Fuckin' hell.”

The knife almost falls from his grip, but you're there to catch it without managing to nick yourself or him. Grinning, you help him cut a piece of cake.

“Sorry.” You chuckle as you place the slice on his paper plate. “What'd you get for secret Santa?” Placing the knife down, you lick some extra frosting off of your finger.

He feels like he's being tested by the universe. “A l–lock pickin’ kit.”

You raise a brow, laughing. “You asked for that?”

Shrugging, he smirks. “Might come in handy. Yuri was the one who got me. Y’know how she is.”

“It's because of that one time you lock picked the gym with my hair pin so that we can grab the volleyballs from the storage room isn't it?”

Hobie nods with a smile, “yeah, that and for stealin’ back all the confiscated things from Mr. Burns’ office.”

Your laughter is contagious, making him laugh as he stares at you with endearment. “So it's for the benefit of everyone then?”

“Yeah, don't have to borrow your hair pin anymore, lovie.” His eyes wander all over the place except for your eyes. Knuckles shaking from how hard he grips the paper plate, heart beating louder than the speakers that are playing all the greatest hits. “Have you given it a listen yet?” He points at the mixtapes tucked in every available pocket you have.

“Not yet.” You shake your head, staring at him through your lashes as he flicks his eyes over to yours only to move away once he meets with your own. “I left my player at home.” He nods once, and you can feel his mind giving him second thoughts about his gift. So you immediately remedy it by holding onto his bicep, fingers gently wrapping around as he freezes in place. “I really did love the present, Hobie. It's well thought out, and—” he blinks at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly from the anticipation. You gently tug him closer, twisting to fully face him even with your own bashfulness trying to stop your next words.

“— And, do you want to listen to it together?”

“Together?” He asks, and You nod sheepishly. “Together, together?”

“Yeah, if you're free.” It's your turn to second guess as you shuffle your weight on your feet from nerves. “I want to listen to you talk about how you chose the music. And why you think they all pair well together?” You wait for his rejection.

He feels like he's dreaming. “I've got notes,” he said, matching your gentle smile. “I'll listen to the whole bloody thing with you, love.”

You sigh, relieved. Leaning forward, you cup his cheek, hand still unsure, hovering above his skin as you press a feather light kiss on his other cheek. He stands there, chest rising and falling, cake forgotten, and shock evident on his face. Now he knows that he's not dreaming.

“It's a date then.”

[porcelaintoybox23]

One of the darkest aspects of atsv is how Gwen was groomed. When Jess and Miguel took her in, I got "vibes," so to speak. The trailers obviously didn't help, but those painted Miguel in a bad light, unlike Jess.

Gwen, a 15-16 year old, goes with these two in the heat of a tense moment. I don't think anyone had ill intentions, but that doesn't negate the results.

I was shocked when we learned that Gwen hadn't gone home in months. Jess and Miguel become her whole world and take on the roles of her parental figures. In this time, she has become emotionally dependent on them and their approval. Gwen is scared to disappoint them. She's threatened with being returned to her dimension with no support, a place where last anyone saw, her father was trying to arrest her for murder.

Jess uses Gwen's admiration and dependence to manipulate her. She knows Gwen fears letting her down. She goes from being smiley and supportive to blunt and cold.

Gwen is scared. Whether they intended to or not, Miguel and Jess essentially groomed and emotionally abused her. The second she justifiably makes a mistake or just acts like a normal teen who lacks interpersonal relationships, they send her home.

At any point did they try to help Gwen reconcile with her dad? What did they tell her so she'd be fine with her father dying?

I know the dictionary definition is more of a nsfw nature, but I do believe it can occur in just a manipulative manner. They took in a vulnerable child, manipulated her, and threw her out.

Her whole arc reads like a kid disowned for coming out.

Note: I'm a black woman. It's not my job to make you guys feel comfortable with a clearly uncomfortable topic. Complain to the studio who wrote the film. I no longer argue with people who assume the worst of my posts or misinterpret what I painstakingly try to clarify. I don't care. It's my post, and I shall delete and block whoever I want. I'm not the government.

Like it or not, Jess and Miguel, grown adults, take a child with them. They are responsible for her. That is how that works. POC aren't free from criticism. POC can be evil to white women. This is a fictional movie, bitch to the studio who made them the obvious bad guys.

Thank you 😊

[folkdevilfables]

✵ Arachnid Ambuscade | Solomon x gn!reader

drabble (0.7k words) | sfw | gn!reader | fluff/angst

cw: spider mention, set in Nightbringer, mutual attraction, no established relationship, MC is an oblivious dunce & Solomon is touchstarved to the point that sudden close physical contact with his LI nearly makes him faint on the spot lmao

You were simply minding your own business, reorganizing some things in your room at Cocytus Hall when you suddenly noticed a huge spider twice the size of your hand on the wall to your left.

You let out a little scream and jumped away from the wall, bumping into something. Or someone.

"MC? Are you okay?"

You felt Solomon behind you stiffen in surprise as you bumped into him, one of your hands brushing his thigh. Or his hip. You couldn't really tell, you were too occupied with anxiously staring at the big spider on your bedroom wall to keep watch of whether it was moving or not.

While the sight of a spider didn't put you in a state of panic, you didn't really like spiders all that much. Especially when they were potentially dangerous and/or appeared on the wall of your bedroom wholly uninvited, deciding they intended to make your room their forever home and not pay any rent. You weren’t a big fan to say the least.

Small spiders weren't really a problem, it was the bigger ones that you were mildly terrified of. Which was stupid when you thought about it, since the smaller ones were usually the venomous ones and the bigger ones rather harmless... But you were in the Devildom and just assumed that everything was out to get you six feet under by default.

"Please get the spider out of my room, Solomon. Please please please."

You shrieked and winced as it moved.

"Anything for my adorable apprentice."

One incantation later and the spider was gone.

"...Is it gone?" Yes, you were looking at the obviously spiderless wall, but you wanted to make extra sure. Just in case. Better safe than sorry.

"Yes. I used a teleportation spell to send it to another place, away from Cocytus Hall."

"Oh, thank Diavolo." You let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Solomon!"

Turning around, you hugged him.

The surprise of a sudden hug caught the sorcerer off-guard. It took him a second to regain his composure and hug you back.

"Anyday, MC."

As you wrapped your arms around him, you felt his heart beating ferociously in his chest.

You looked up and wanted to ask him if everything was alright, but then you saw that he had small ivory feathers in his hair.

"Did your pillows explode during one of your experiments? There are feathers in your hair."

Without asking for his permission, you reached up to gently pluck the feathers out of his hair, your hand brushing his cheeks and nose several times in the process.

A good look at his face showed that his cheeks were now pale pink and his breaths ever so slightly shallow.

You eyed him worriedly. "Sol, are you okay? Do you have a fever? Was the spicy zombie dragon liver curry you ate for lunch today a little too much for you? Do you want me to go get you some medica-"

Before he had the chance to respond your D.D.D started ringing, the sudden loud noise startling both of you. Taking a step back from Solomon, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and answered the call.

"MC, there’s a giant spider in the House of Lamentation and it has already devoured Asmo's vanity and Mammon's car and now it’s chasing us!" You heard Asmo's blood curdling scream in the background while Levi was panting, trying to hastily explain the situation while presumably running for his life. "Lucifer is currently at the Demon Lord's Castle - Please, you need to help! I don't know how much longer we can run!" Mammon yowled as Levi shrieked and the sound of something being smashed could be heard.

You looked at Solomon.

The sorcerer was attentively watching you, sporting a sly smirk.

"I... erm... Levi... I don't know how to tell you this, but I can't handle spiders myself. I'm sorry, I doubt I’d be any help."

"Please MC, anything -"

Solomon gingerly plucked the D.D.D out of your hand.

"I'm sorry Leviathan, but this is one of MC's scheduled off days and they're very busy currently. I'm sure you'll be able to handle the spider on your own. Good Luck!" He cheerily ended the call and placed your phone back on the nightstand.

You shuddered. "Well, I won't be setting foot into the House of Lamentation until that spider is gone, that's for sure."

Solomon smugly smiled. "Perfect, that means I get more time to have you to myself."

Unedited Solomon icon can be found here | support banner and divider made by @/saradika | all rights reserved banner by @/cafekitsune

[spectra-bear]

Behold! The spit!!!

[kiabugboy]

Some pics I snapped while I was at a cafe in the mountains and it started pouring, so all the bugs started swarming the windows to seek shelter

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

Fun fact, one of my hardcore boundaries with my deities is not to send me spiders. I'm terrified of them. My brain perceives a spider in the vicinity as a threat to my life, fight or flight kicks in, I will probably cry, the whole nine yards. I don't care how associated they are with spiders, I feel unsafe around spiders.

I saw that Loki, at least to enough people to worry me, is associated with spiders. IMMEDIATELY I was on guard. Loki was very insistent that he would NEVER, the goal is never to make me feel unsafe.

Cue two nights after Loki's first appearance to me, I have a dream in which the main "plot" is a spider. It was barely even a nightmare, I wasn't SCARED it was just a pain in the ass. I remember this dream halfway through the day, start laughing because Loki found a loophole, and get a very distinct "see? Your fears can't hurt you. They can even be funny."

I can't even be mad, because that was smart. And yes, very funny.

Cut to last night; my dream is general messy weird dream shit, but what sticks out is a spider that's completely irrelevant. out of place. On a segment of "wall" that shouldn't even be there, in the middle of a big room, and it interrupts the "scene" completely. Instead of freaking out I grab the arm of my friend and say "spider," and just move us away and leave it be. Progress. Not a real spider, I'd still cry if a real one was involved, but undeniable progress in my subconscious.

Loki is very pleased with himself. I am entertained.

[comic-art-showcase]

Spider-Man by John Amor

[mamaspidershit]

[Maria drunkenly wanders around the house and Clint is drunkenly giggling] Natasha, completely sober: *sighs* Well, looks like it's just me and you against the world, Peter. Peter, going to his room: Nope, just you. *shuts door*

[whaliiwatching]

off to behead some fascists!! wanna come with?

post-therapy

[owostrich]

recently watched this video [content warning for the vid: spiders (it's not a required watch for this post dontworry)] about color and how jumping spiders perceive color different from us humans and. of course my autism brain immediately started making connections to ISAT cuz like!! ISAT doesn't have color it was wished away!! but this brings up the question of like, how the color went away. did humans and only humans simply forget how to see color? did all animals forget how to see color?? did the world forget how to display it??? it brings up interesting questions about evolution in ISAT imo! like. a lot of small animals IRL use bright colors like red in order to tell predators they're toxic/poisonous, or to confuse them (because according to the aforementioned video the color red can confuse some species of jumping spiders by creating a depth illusion essentially), or for mating purposes. but if all animals forgot how to see color, or the world forgot how to display it, that would no longer be an evolutionary advantage, they'd just be like another shade of grey. so maybe some animals would instead evolve to display bright white, or evolve to simply be darker shades to hide, because color is no longer a factor. so maybe in certain fics/aus/whatever where siffrin breaking the universe Brings Back Colors, they'd find that a lot of species actually evolved to be black and/or white and/or grey due to the wish that removed color from the equation, depending on how far back the wish occurred (i think it was a long time ago cuz iirc ingame it's said the idea of color was only recently rediscovered?). or maybe the color would come back in ways different from our universe, like maybe tomatoes would turn fckn purple or something instead of red idk.

anyways sorry i just needed to get The Autism out of my system for a bit i'm done now /lh

[the-kr8tor]

A Regular Spidey Valentine's day

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Hobie's valentine's day plan goes awry when Spider-Man duties call.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, CW suggestive, CW food mentions, lovestruck! Hobie, canon typical violence, fluff.

Requested by @thesevenofstaves -- had to double check the master list but i don’t think there’s one similar to this? but if there is feel free toto discard—hobie trying to have a great valentine’s day with his partner, but everything keeps going wrong. we’re talking villain attacks, we’re talking culinary failures. you get the idea!thank you love you 🥰

Navigation

You open your eyes to a cold valentine's day morning. But the cool wind barely nips at you when you've got your very own furnace holding you close under the thick blankets.

Hobie embraces you from behind, soft snores escaping from his parted lips as he finds his place on your nape. You feel his breath fanning across your skin, goosebumps appearing on your arms as he lets out an exhale. You wonder what he's dreaming about, you only hope it's good things as his arms subconsciously squeezes you in his sleep.

His legs are tangled with your own, socked feet rubbing along your cold leg as you feel him stir when the light from the windows beam through the curtains. His hands wiggle their way under your night shirt, holding your stomach and letting his warmth ebb from his palms. Smiling, you hold the back of his hands, thumbs running along his knuckles as a soft and gentle way to wake him up.

“We need new blinds.” Hobie murmurs against the back of your neck, lil piercing brushing along your raised skin. His voice is still deep and rough from sleep, it single handedly makes your heart flutter.

“Good morning to you too.” You chuckle, voice soft amidst the early morning fluttering of dust. “Maybe that'll be your valentine's gift from me.”

He laughs, a deep rumble in his throat that reverberates through you. “Make it blackout, love. ‘m startin’ to think that people can see through and see our nightly—” you crane your neck to give him a side glance as a warning, only to find that he has already cracked an eye open, waiting for your reaction. “—Activities.”

Humming, you're satisfied by his use of the word.

“‘m talkin' ‘bout makin’ love, by the way.”

“Hobie!” You giggle, and the sound immediately has Hobie moving to detangle himself away from you and lift his body atop your own in quick succession and fluid movement. His lopsided smile has your words stuck in your throat as you look up at him through wide eyes.

“Hearts day today, hm?” He pokes your cheek, arms enclosed around you and legs trapping your thighs together. “The most capitalistic time of the year.”

You try to tamp down a laugh but can't help giggling when he tilts his head and tries to look all flirty with you when he's still wearing his pink silk bonnet and with crusts still in the corner of his eyes.

“That's true,” lifting your hand up to rub away the sleep in his eyes gently, he closes his eyes whilst you do it. “But you always go all out during the holiday.”

“Yeah, but it's for you.” He leans against your touch, sighing longingly as if you're across the sea from him. “And only for you, love.” Dropping down, he places his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck as he gives small pecks on your skin. Your heart feels full in the moment as you hold him close and tangle your legs with him. “Says you who made me a whole bloody outfit from scratch.”

Laughing, he continues to kiss your neck and up to your jaw. “And I loved making it for you,” you say breathlessly as he kisses deeper and you move your neck to give him more space to cover. “Just say you love the holiday, Hobs.”

Hobie pauses from his barrage of kisses, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes. He fixes your unruly brows that still bear sleep, and rubs your cheek lovingly with his knuckles.

“No.”

“Is it because you have to go on patrol today unlike last year?”

“The world is tearing us apart, lovie.” He leans in, kissing the corner of your lips, cheeks and the tip of your nose.

“Maybe just London, Hobie.” You gasp as he presses a sweet kiss on your lips. You reciprocate wholeheartedly, hands balling his pajama shirt and smiling through the kiss.

“London can wait a few more minutes.”

—

“Hobie, be careful, please?” You hug yourself tighter, wrapping Hobie's cardigan around you. “I have plans for us tonight so please come home in one piece.”

Hobie, in his full regalia of spandex and leather sits in-between the window sill as if he’s thinking whether he should stay or go.

“You know I always will, love.” Holding up his arms, you park yourself in the space as he curls himself around your form, face scrunched on your belly, and with you hugging his head. “I'll be on time, hm?” He whispers against you, placing a heavy kiss atop the cardigan that you both share.

“I'm not worried about that.” Craning your neck, not worried about the crick you're about to surely have, you kiss his temple sweetly. “Just come home, okay?”

Hobie reluctantly lifts his head away from you, smiling up at you. If he doesn't leave now, he'll never get out of the flat. “You want wine for tonight?”

“If you're coming home all beaten and battered, you better have something stronger.” You joke as you caress his cheek.

“I'll get you the good stuff, hm?”

“Anything from you is the good stuff.” Leaning down, you kiss him on his waiting lips. “Now go, the city needs you, Spider-Man.”

Hobie gives you one last smile before placing the mask on his head. Now face to face with the famed vigilante. Taking your hand, he kisses your knuckles and lets you go to jump off the window and swing away into the bustling city.

Watching his form retreating away, you sigh and start preparing for tonight's meal, that's for sure would be so bountiful that it would send the vigilante to a food coma.

—

Hobie heaves in place as the lizard lays unconscious by his feet. It's barely noon and he has stopped seven disasters already. There goes his plans to swing by and hand you a bouquet that he gathered himself that's now slowly floating down to the dust covered pavement. Fragrant flower petals come down from the sky, and a few people stop by and watch as the colourful flowers grace the cold London street.

“It's a Valentine's miracle!” A bystander exclaims happily, dancing around the floating petals.

Hobie shakes his head, rubbing a gloved hand across his masked face. He should've seen the lizard coming but he was too enthralled by his own mind that was playing what your reaction would be after he gives you a visit and hands you the flowers.

“Fuckin' hell.” He stretches his aching shoulder, already thinking of a faster route to gather all the flowers he needed to make a new bouquet. Whilst he thinks, a fire alarm blares in the distance, making his senses go off. With a sigh, the flowers have to wait.

—

You swirl the final touches on the red velvet cake you just finished. Smiling happily at the result even though it's your first time baking one. As you check the time, looking over to the clock on the wall, you have plenty of time to finish up dinner. Now with dessert out of the way, it's time for the main course.

You wonder what Hobie's up to and if he has eaten lunch yet.

—

“You wanker! That was my lunch!” Hobie screams at the cackling Rhino. Real fury in his veins whilst he glances at the sandwich you packed for him this morning that's now flattened under the villain's metallic foot.

“Oh poor spidey lost his sandwich?” The Rhino mocks while doing a crying motion at him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Hobie cracks his neck, jaw tightening and walking slowly at the humongous suit of armour. He has no quip nor a joke, just silence; making the Rhino fear for his life.

—

“Shit!” You yelp, dropping the smoking metal tray into the sink. Opening the faucet, the tray hisses and lets out steam whilst the whole kitchen is covered in smoke. “Damn it.”

Maybe taking a short nap while the oven is on wasn't such a great idea. Good thing you have a plan b just in case something like this happened.

Checking the time, you're starting to worry that you won't finish before Hobie comes home now that it's well into the afternoon. With a groan, you start again.

—

“No, Ned, not a bloody yellow one!” Hobie yells into the phone's receiver, which he only uses for times like these. He's on call with Ned who owes Hobie big time and whom he asked for help in buying ingredients from the store. He dodges the Scorpion's stinger, balancing on a metal railing just near the end of the docks. “Not blue either! It'll look like it's for a baby shower—!” The stinger gets too close for comfort. “Do you fuckin' mind? 'm on the phone.”

“Drop the call, Spider-Man!” The scorpion says in his scratchy tone as he hangs upside down on a lamp post. “What's more important than saving the bank?”

“The bank can fuck off for all I care!” Hobie jumps and webs the stinger to a building. “It's the hostages you've got inside, you knobhead—! No, not you, Ned!” Groaning, he has had enough and quickly somersaults over the second stinger that was aimed for him. “What's up with you animal themed villains today? Got no dates?!”

“That's harsh.” The Scorpion's shoulders deflates sadly.

“Guess it's hard to find a date when you dress like that!” He pounces, punching the guy right on his jaw.

Hobie looks at the sun slowly setting on the horizon and he focuses on the task at hand. The faster he defeats the Scorpion, the faster he can get to you.

“Pink or red only, Ned, and get the good chocolate and please don't forget the thing I told you.” He closes the call and tucks the phone back in his vest pocket. Cracking his knuckles, he hones in on the villain. “Maybe you'll find a date in jail, yeah?”

—

You set up the dinner table all pretty like with red roses, a fine tablecloth, and gilded utensils that you got a deal on at an estate sale last week. Looking around, the pretty string lights and the strawberry scented candles have you smiling and patting your back for a job well done.

Your phone pings on the kitchen counter, and you race towards it to check if it's Hobie telling you that he's on his way. Your brows knit together when it's Ned asking you when your birthday is and if you're allergic to nuts. A weird combination of questions but you still open your phone and answer him.

—

“C’mon, blackcat, not today.” Hobie sighs, the marks from the previous fights is evident on his soot and scratch covered suit. The sun has fully set, and the clock ticks close to seven pm as he stands on a rooftop with blackcat, who's carrying a duffel bag full of jewellery.

“Why? Got something to do, handsome?” She says in a sultry tone, sharp claws glinting in the moonlight. Hobie subtly tilts his head in annoyance. Nothing seems to be going his way today. “Oh, I get it, you've got someone waiting for you tonight, hm?” Her heels click on the rooftop as she walks closer to him. Hobie smacks his lips together, fists tightening.

In the distance, the famous jewellery shop she just robbed empty has its alarms blaring loudly. Sirens go off around the area, and Hobie just wants to go home.

“Y’know what?” Hobie starts, exasperated. Blackcat tilts her head, her silver eyes under the domino mask narrows at him. “That place was owned by an arsehole, go.”

She blinks in place, a smirk slowly appearing on her painted lips. “Really? Just like that?”

Hobie nods, “promise not to tell anyone what you deduced and give thirty percent of the money you get from that to a charity and I'll let you go.”

“Shit, Spider-Man, why didn't you say so in the first place?” She chuckles, reeling her claws back in.

“Fuckin’ say it, Felicia.”

“Damn, you don't have to call me by my government name, man.” She rummages through the bag and tosses him something shiny which Hobie catches effortlessly. “Here, for your special someone. And I promise, spidey. Cross my heart, hope to die.” She draws a cross over her chest.

“I'll know, don't lie to me.” His voice falls into a dangerous timbre.

She visibly stiffens from the threat, not forgetting what he did to Osborne a few years ago. “As if I'd lie to my favourite spider.”

As blackcat tumbles away, leaving Hobie alone, he opens his palm to see a shiny diamond tennis bracelet. Maybe he can detach the diamonds and make something else.

“Shit!” He needs to get to Ned’s real quick.

—

You've been sitting pretty on the dining table for four hours now. The candle is dwindling and the food is getting colder while the clock ticks on the wall. For the umpteenth time tonight, you fix your clothes as if there's even a crease or a speck of dust on it. You don't mind waiting for him when you know the nature of his work, but you're starting to worry when his last text to you was hours ago. You've even turned on the telly in the background just in case he pops up in the news.

With a yawn, you decide to lay your head on the table. “Just closing my eyes.” You mumble to yourself as you drift in between slumber and wakefulness.

Hobie's heart breaks when he sees you asleep on the table with your head tucked in your arms. The candles are fully melted on the candelabra, and the smell of food is fading away. He's sure that it might've smelled heavenly hours ago, if only he got there earlier.

He quietly takes off his heavy boots by the door, the crinkling of the paper bag has him cringing. But when he glances at your sleeping form, you're still sleeping soundly. He curses himself internally as he roams his eyes around the living room and the decorations you've put out. You've even got new pictures of you together with him inside pretty frames to place around the shared place. The flowers on the vases are still fresh and blooming, and you look absolutely stunning.

Gently placing the paper bag on the table, he kneels next to you, hand grasping your bicep while he wakes you up.

You stir, sniffing the air as you lift your head up. Your face lights up when you see him smiling softly at you.

“Hi.”

“Hello, love. Sorry ‘m late, let me carry you to bed, yeah?” Hobie rubs your thigh lovingly, chest feeling heavy and guilty. “I tried.”

You immediately know what he meant. “I know, Hobs.” Reaching for his cheek, you let your touch warm him. His face still feels chilly from how he might've run to get to the flat. “You okay?” He nods, eyes shining as he moves closer and places his head on your lap. “Bad day?”

“A shite day.” He hugs your waist, face nudging you.

“Sounds like you need a Valentine's meal, hm?”

Hobie lifts his head up, palms holding your hips. “It's cold.”

“That's why microwaves and the stove were invented.”

A smile curls on his lips until he's laughing against your stomach. You giggle with him, fingers kneading in between his shoulder blades.

“What did you make?” He asks, still holding you in place and in turn holding him down to the present.

“Baked chicken with lemongrass just like how you like it.” You whisper to him while the pads of his fingers draw circles on the small of your back. “Some mashed potatoes, so many buttered vegetables.” You chuckle and you feel his smile atop your skin. “Fish fillet—”

“With the garlic and cream sauce?”

You nod, gazing down lovingly at him. “With the garlic and cream sauce of course. Some tomato soup, and cake.”

“We feedin’ a whole town now, lovie?” He smiles up at you, stomach rumbling from the menu.

“Yeah, you,” you joke, earning a squeeze from him. “I rarely cook for you these days so I went all out.”

He beams at you, eyes gazing at you lovingly. “I got you flowers.” He says in a small tone. Your heart flutters. “It's all over downtown now though.”

Your laugh is music to his ears. “I bet it made someone's day though.”

“There was a bloke who looked like he was in the sound of music.” He places his chin on your thigh, staring at you with heart shaped eyes. You laugh, hands cupping each of his cheeks. “I made you chocolates, but Neddy got coconut fillings in most of ‘em. And the sprinkles are green, sorry.”

“Is that why Ned asked me if I have any allergies and when my birthday is? He helped you make them?”

“I can't make it ‘ere when you were cookin’ up a storm. Wait, he asked you? Idiot.” He curses Ned's name and you giggle. Hobie bites his lip, suddenly nervous. “And he was askin' when your birthday is so he could get your birth stone.”

“My stone?”

“I just told him to pick it up so I could set it myself and the wanker forgot when your birthday is just because I just said your birthstone.” You squeeze his cheek to stop his nervous rambling. He sighs, rummaging through his jacket pocket and procuring a simple bamboo box. “Made and designed by yours truly.” He chuckles nervously as he opens the box, revealing a simple platinum necklace that has your birthstone set in a guitar pick shaped locket. “Sorry that the stone is so small. The old lady who owned the place got me a good price though.”

“Hobie,” you softly sigh out, tears prickling your eyes. “You could get me a candy necklace and I would still love it.”

“Should've gotten that then.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. “I thought, ten fuckin' years together, ten Valentines, I have to get you somethin' nice. You deserve nice, love.”

“The chocolates and the pavement flowers were nice too. Anything from you is nice, Hobie.” You don't hold yourself back anymore, leaning down and kissing the corner of his eye as he holds onto you. “Amazing even.”

“You like it then?” He says as he gets a barrage of kisses.

“I love it. Come stand up and help me put it on like in the movies.”

Hobie reaches for your cheek, a calloused palm holding you close and keeping you warm. “Kiss me like in the movies then.”

So you do.

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[demonboyhalo]

if you missed the OG post talking abt the sol de janeiro cream that (ALLEGEDLY) gets spiders turnt (its the Mazda 6 of creams) here's all the context u need for this poll:

[jax-interacts]

🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽

This is like sending spider emojis to someone who's arachnophobia, you aren't establishing much, chief

[eyesremain]

I like putting spiders in peoples mailboxes :)