#firescape

[fatchance]

Scenes from Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument. This was the first time I had hiked in the park since the Tunnel Fire in 2022. In only 48 hours this wind-driven wildfire swept through the monument, burning over 20,000 acres (8,100 ha), or more than 60% of the protected park lands. It's hard to imagine a more rugged and blasted environment than a lava field or a cinder cone, but the loss of vegetation and trees made it feel even more desolate and otherworldly.

[romanowork]

[kashians]

KaSh AR: Push Ups scene

Episode 087 [Part 4-Last Part]

[songthursh]

A picture I made a couple of years ago for my dear @stupidlynx!

[mlfirescaped]

huntor

landoon

midge

me, myself and i

side views

and side view of chip cuz front facing chip looks weird @creator-indy this was mainly just an excuse to build your characters lmao liked how chip turned out tho gotta be one of the best ones i did also scrap made a bad joke "Hunter is a bit silly but landon has LANDED BOIII" -Scrap

[arachnidiots]

liam , i'll tell you when you get your soft, italicized "oh."

THE LATE NIGHT TALK

oh. you figure it out when you realize just how vulnerable they are willing to be with you. it isn't everybody who could or would stay up talking into the night with you, not with such affection or easy familiarity. it isn't everybody who is so understanding of you. it isn't everybody who could bare their soul to you in return. that kind of intimacy… it means deep foundations. it means comfort. it means trust. maybe it's a secret, maybe it's a story, maybe it's something you just never thought of before -- but they say something, late at night, and you realize all at once how remarkable they are, and how special it is to exist in the same time and space as them. "oh" indeed.

tagged by : @morteuse @danversiism / tagging : @mcmorare @osb7 @stcrgirl @hellsputina

[lemaquillage]

Modern Landscape

A picture of a sizable, contemporary, rock-and-full-sun backyard with concrete paving and a metal fence in the spring.

[liamdunbargifs]

Modern Landscape in Los Angeles An example of a large modern partial sun front yard brick and wood fence landscaping in summer.

[hikikomorimayor]

Decking - Backyard This is an illustration of a medium-sized Mediterranean backyard with decking in the summer that is drought-tolerant and gets full sun.

[silverbeamcreations]

Part 1

Prt 2 here

Jason was having one of THOSE days. Dick had been overly clingy, his bike had gotten a flat near the beginning of patrol, and Bruce was overbearing on his hunt of his current case. It had been a long night, even longer without the use of his bike running around roof tops chasing strange leads for Batman. He was just about to hit his bed his longing for those pillows on the same level that Tim looked at his coffee cup in the morning when Oracle gave him a call.

Duke needed a hand near Crime Alley, so Jason tore his gaze from his bed and grabbed his guns instead. "Goodnight, goodnight, parting is such sweet sorrow." Jason mumbled mornfully as he jumped off his firescape balcony.

2 hours later, plus a slightly dodgy knife wound that took forever to treat due to being on his back, and he stood once again before his bed.

The infamous Red Hood spread out his arms, declaring to his egyptian cotton sheets, "I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." He closed his eyes and tilted forward, letting gravity bring him to his rest.

When he hit cement rather than mattress swear, he could hear his soul screaming in frustration. Peeling his upper torso off the floor, he cracked an eye open.

A ring of black drippy candles spread wide around him, leaving little to see by in the dark room. The strange squiggly marks and lines painted on the floor also circled around him. An idea blooming Jason looked up, anticipating to see wackos in robes, and was confused to see weirdos in lab coats instead.

"What the fuck?"

_______________

Please encourage me and let me know if you want more. Would love to hear your predictions and suggestions. Also, I have no idea how Tumblr works. Please advise, lol.

Part 3

[the-oblivious-writer]

After the Storm |3|

Tara Carpenter x Spider-Woman!Reader

Chapter Three: The Police Will Handle It

Summary: After a disastrous fight with Dr. Connors, ending with you as bruised and bloodied as ever, the only person you desperately feel you need is Tara

Warning(s): Swearing, if it looks like "Italic" the character is signing, injured R, & spidey level violence

Notes: Christmas came earlyyy. I wasn't expecting to get this chap out by tonight or this weekend at all tbh but ig I just missed these lovable, lovestruck idiots that much (also made them a playlist)

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Ringing.

That’s all you could hear as the pain in your ears never gave out. But that was all you could hear. Even your own whimpering fell deaf to you. There was only one thought on your mind; you needed Tara. She could make everything better. You don’t care if Sam’s at the apartment or not. You don't care if she arrested you on the spot. You just need Tara. 

You swung through the pain, building to the building, until you saw Tara’s. You exhaled in relief when you spotted her lit up room through the window. Quickly, you swung to her firescape—nearly crashing against the window as you did so. Your tumbling let out a loud sound, getting Tara’s attention. 

She rushed to her window, pushing it up, before she saw the state you were in. You were completely drained and it was clear. You were using the bit of the energy you had left to hold yourself up. Your suit was torn up, and your wounds were still fresh and visible. Tara’s eyes widened at the sight, but she quickly snapped out of it to bring you inside.

“Jesus, Y/N…” 

You couldn’t even respond. You tried to, but you ended up groaning instead. “What the fuck happened?” Tara asked. It all sounded the same to you; muffled. Everything sounded muted.

She sat you down on her bed. You sucked in a breath, still extremely sore from your fight. She looked at you, trying to meet your eye line. That’s when she noticed you wouldn’t look at her. Tara raised her right hand to touch your face, she did it as gently as she could, but she made contact with your ear. You then flinch as you let out a hiss.

Tara immediately pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry…” She leaned in closer to look at your ear, she saw the angry bruising. The realization hit when she checked your other ear and she saw that it was just as bad, if not, worse.

“You can’t hear me?” Tara signed with furrowed eyebrows. 

“No,” you signed back; you immediately averted your stare again.

With that answer, plenty of questions started racing through Tara’s mind. What did Dr. Connors do to you? When is your healing going to kick in? Will that even work for something this drastic? Are you scared?–

“You’re thinking loud,” you croaked; you finally got the courage to use the voice you suddenly lacked confidence in. 

“Sorry,” Tara responded with an apologetic look. 

“Just… be with me please?” You looked at her, eyes vulnerable. She looked at you, blinking, as a small reassuring smile grazed her face. She moved up the bed to lean against the pillow with you. On instinct, your head moved to rest on her shoulder. She cautiously snuck her hand up, once she was sure she wasn’t causing you any pain, she began to lightly scratch the back of your neck. 

You snuggled closer to her, putting an arm over her waist. It wasn’t until a couple minutes later when everything came crashing down, when everything became so real. You just started crying. It started off slow, with a few tears escaping as you managed to hold some back, until you physically couldn’t hold back anymore. You must’ve started making noises, or maybe Tara noticed her shirt start to dampen, because she looked down at you. 

At first, she wasn’t sure what to do. It was so sudden. It was also the first she was seeing you cry. In the end, she didn’t say anything, she just held you closer and placed a kiss on your temple as she continued to hold you in her arms. You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

—

You ended up staying the night, that wasn’t up for debate. You didn’t sleep as poorly as you could’ve in your condition. It shouldn’t be a shock at this point; you always found yourself sleeping better in Tara’s arms.

It was around eight when you were woken up by the sounds of shuffling. Sounds. You could hear again. Cool. You blinked your eyes open before looking at your surroundings. It didn’t take long for you to remember everything that happened. You looked over to see Tara putting on a hoodie.

“Morning,” you said in a raspy voice.

She got the hoodie on, pulling it all the way down as she turned to look at you. “Morning,” she reciprocated with a smile. Suddenly, she remembered the extent to your injuries and pointed to her own ear with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh—uh, yeah. I think I’m fine now,” you responded with a nod.

“Good. Today we’re relaxing.” She walked over to her mirror and grabbed her brush. 

“What? No. Tara, I can’t ‘relax.’  I have a city to look after. Dr. Connors is still out there. And–”

Tara cut you off, slamming down her brush and turning to you with a glare. “–and look at what he did to you. The city isn’t going to collapse under itself if Spider-Woman takes a day to herself. You deserve it, Y/N.”

“But–”

“–The police will handle it.”

You looked down at your hands, contemplating your next move. You knew Tara wasn’t going to let up easily, if at all. Your only option is to listen to her. 

“Fine,” you mumble.

“Fine. So… Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? I got the shit beat out of me,” you let out a humorless chuckle. 

“You couldn’t hear me. At all. What if I wasn’t here? What if he had taken your ability to walk—or in your case, swing? What would you do then? What if–” 

You got up from her bed, taking her hands in yours as you cut her off. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. None of that happened, okay? I’m here, I’m with you, and in the end my healing kicked in. Don’t stress yourself over the what if’s.” 

“You know I can’t help it,” Tara looked into your eyes. Her expression was so raw and genuine, you could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace as you looked into her eyes. You raised one of your hands to cup her cheek, the other still holding her hand. 

“I know…” You leaned in, slowly to wait for her to reciprocate, which didn’t take long. She immediately caught your lips with hers. You both savored the moment as you both did with every shared moment you have with the other. You both hesitantly pull apart, your thumb gently brushing against her cheek as a small smile grazes your face.

“I’ll always come home, Tara.”

“You can’t promise that… No one can promise that.” You knew she was right. 

“I’ll always fight a million times harder. I can at least promise you that.”

Tara let out a light sigh, leaning into your touch as you pulled her in with the hand that cupped her cheek. She didn’t fight it as she moved her arms to wrap themselves around your waist. 

Everything is going to be okay, Tara thought to herself. It has to be…

—

Tara decided to make you breakfast that morning, as a way to start off your day of relaxation. It was perfect because Sam had an early shift, and she wouldn’t be home for a while. 

When you got the okay, she finally let you out of her room—she wanted it to be a surprise—and led you to the kitchen. You were immediately hit with the smell of something burning, coffee, and something else you couldn’t quite place. But nevertheless, you still held a smile as she sat you down at the table. 

She placed the plate in front of you; you looked down at it to find what looked to be pancakes, extra crispy turkey bacon, blackened toast, and a steaming cup of coffee not too far away. Tara was now sitting in the seat across from you as you looked at the food.

“These are… an interesting shape.” You push around the lumpy pancakes with your fork. Looked up at Tara who looked back with anticipation.

“Go on, try them,” she urged excitedly.

“Oh, now? Yeah—yeah sure.” You cleared your throat as you cut through the pancake after drowning it in syrup, before putting it in your mouth. You’re immediately hit with a sour bitterness, even through all the syrup you drenched it in. You look over and see Tara’s still looking at you contently, waiting for a response. You smile, mouth still full, and you still haven’t swallowed a single thing. 

“Is so good,” you muffled the lie while chewing on the pancake. Is it—is it crunchy? 

Tara groaned, rolling her eyes as she got up from her seat across from you. 

“It’s terrible.”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not—uh, it’s just a little burnt. But you know I think that just brings out the… flavor? You know?” You harshly swallowed down more of the pancake, Tara only shook her head at your response as she took the plate in front of you.

“I’m just gonna make you a banana,” Tara sighed.

“You’re gonna make me a banana?” You questioned with raised eyebrows.

“I’m gonna make you a banana,” she rubbed your shoulder before walking away with the plates. 

“She’s gonna make me a banana…” You murmur to yourself.

Tara ended up doordashing something edible for breakfast and you happily ate the banana while you waited for it. When the food came, the two of you settled in front of the TV.  An hour in, you and Tara were lying on the couch, tangled with one another.

 She had unintentionally trapped you with her legs while you wrapped one of your arms around her shoulders, the other arm's hand holding her own hand. This would seem uncomfortable to anybody else, but not to you and Tara. 

The two of you made it work. 

—

The day was slowly coming to an end, which Tara was dreading. She knew once the next day came, she would have no excuse to hold you captive any longer. Luckily, she convinced you to stay overnight. Usually, you would be hesitant about staying the night due to Sam. But since Sam was so busy she wouldn’t be back until morning, you had agreed. You also knew Tara wasn’t ready for you to return to your crime fighting, whether she said it out loud or not. 

“Twister! We haven’t played Twister yet,” Tara exclaimed before walking over to her closet.

“Tara, I can not play Twister. I’m exhausted. Maybe another time?” Your tone was apoplectic and genuine, you could barely fight off your yawns anymore. She looked over to see you rubbing your eyes as you struggled to keep your eyelids up. 

“No it’s okay. Let’s just get some sleep, yeah?”

“Sleep would be lovely,” you agreed in a drowsy voice. “I never thought my sleepiness could hit like this. It’s like a cement truck,” you murmur as you lazily get into bed.

“I think all those energy draining fights are finally catching up to you,” Tara responded as she got into bed with you. She helped you with the blanket, seeing as you could barely move your arms. 

“Mmmm, that’ll do it.” The blanket now covers half your face, your eyes are closed as you begin to drift off to sleep. Tara leaned over, pressing a kiss on your temple before whispering goodnight.

She could get used to this. 

—

What Tara wasn’t expecting was to be awoken at six in the morning to an alarm she did not in fact set. She groaned as she mindlessly waved and smacked her hands around in an attempt to shut up whatever was causing the blaring noise.

“Hey, watch it,” she heard you say. Now she let out a confused groan, reaching over to turn on her lamp. 

She lifted herself up by her arms, then rubbed her eyes as she adjusted to the room’s lighting. It took a while to process what was going on as she looked around her room and at you, but once she did, she was not too happy.

“Y/N. Take that suit off.” 

“Woah there. Don’t you think it’s a little too early for that?” 

“You know what I mean. You can’t be serious!” She shouted in a hushed tone. “It’s—” She reached over for her phone to check the time, “—six! It’s six in the fucking morning. Go to bed.” 

“Dr. Connors was spotted again. I can’t just let him run free. The police–”

“–The police will handle it. Go. To. Bed.” 

You looked over at the opened window then to Tara. You sighed, mumbling something to yourself before moving towards Tara. “We’ll play Twister tonight. Promise.” You lean down to kiss her cheek before pulling down your mask.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, don’t you dare jump out that—aaand she’s already gone.” 

—

All you knew was that Dr. Connors, aka The Lizard, was going on another one of his rampages. This time, taking down a bridge full of cars with him. No doubt, those cars were full of people just trying to get to point B. You need to help them. That’s all you could think about on your way over to the bridge.

Once you got there, you noticed the mutant immediately. He wasn’t that hard to miss. “Incomiiiing!” You shouted as you swung down legs first in the direction of Dr. Connors. You kicked him down just as he threw a car off the bridge. You reacted quickly by shooting a web at the car while The Lizard was down. It hung from the edge as you secured the end of the string to the railing of the bridge. 

So far, you were able to do that with every other car The Lizard used as a frisbee. You looked over at him, hearing his gowling from just a few feet away. His hand had already grown back after being crushed by one of the cars. Your eyes narrowed, ready to pounce. You had lost him, and to him, more than enough times. You weren’t going to let that happen again. That was until you heard the cries of a civilian, causing you to turn your head the other direction.

“Somebody help! Help me! My kid is trapped!” The father desperately shouted, looking around just as desperately in hopes his begging was heard by someone—anyone.

You suddenly heard stomps, causing you to turn your head back at Dr. Connors. He was running away, again. But catching him didn’t seem as important as it did just moments before. You didn’t have to think twice as you swung in the direction of the father. 

You landed on the back of one of the hanging cars where you heard a screaming kid. You immediately ripped off the back window, throwing it to the side. 

“Heeelp! Heeelp!” The boy screamed as he struggled in his seat.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey, buddy. It's okay. It’s alright,” you tried to reassure him but you realized you were only freaking him out more when he turned to look at you with wide eyes.

“Get away!” He was out of breath, swinging his arms around. 

“Hey look!” You said as you pulled off your mask, holding out your arms in front of you; he stopped screaming.

“I’m just a normal person. Alright? You wanna hold this?” You asked, referring to your mask. When he nodded, you threw him your mask, “Hold on to my mask.” He looked down at the mask, his breathing began to calm down but his adrenaline was still high. 

“What’s your name?” You look over to the duffle bag near him to see a name written. “Jack?”  

“Yes…”

“Let’s get you out of here, Jack,” you said in a reassuring tone. “Stay very still,” you told him as you attempted to climb into the car.

“Alright,” he watched your every move as he continued to hold onto your mask.

“Okay, I got you.” You reach your arm over, wrapping it around his waist from behind his seat as carefully as you possibly could. “Okay now look, I’m gonna undo the belt. You’re gonna hold onto the backseat for me, okay? You ready?” You hand gripped the seatbelt, finger hovering over the red button. 

When he nodded you began counting, “Okay, one…two…three,” you unbuckled his belt. He successfully landed on the steering wheel. “See how easy that was? You did a great job,” you chuckled in relief. His breathing was heavy as he nodded his head up and down, you knew he was still nervous and scared as hell. 

Who wouldn’t be in this situation? 

Just then, your senses go off. You can hear the sound of flames not too far from your ears; you turn your head to the direction of where the sound was coming from to see that the car is beginning to be consumed by fire. The heat causes the web, that the car was hanging by, to break. 

You quickly shoot another web, hanging by it with a tight grip, as you’re now outside the car; you hold onto the end of the car as tightly as you can, ignoring the burning sensation in your forearm as you hear the little boy’s screams.

You groaned, trying to tighten your hold as much as you can without being forced to let go. You’re literally hanging by a thread. The car’s beginning to smoke as the flames spread further and further. You look directly at Jack through the opening.

“Jack, climb! Now!”

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” A separate piece of the car falls down in flames, meeting a watery death. You let out a grunt as the car grows heavier and heavier by the second. “Pu—put it on! That mask, it’s gonna make you strong!” Jack looked down at the mask; you see the slight skepticism on his face. “Jack, trust me. Just put it on!”

He finally gives in, putting the mask over his face. “There ya go! That’s it! That’s it, buddy! Okay, now climb! Come on Jack!” The part you held onto was beginning to loosen more and more from the car itself. You only had so much time before the whole thing took a swim. 

He steadily began to climb up, grabbing onto the backs of the seats to do so. 

“Do me a favor, a little faster! Okay bud? You’re doing great!” He was so close, he just needed to take a few more steps and you would be able to pull him up. But suddenly, the part you were holding onto broke loose within a blink of an eye. “No!” You shouted as the car started falling down. 

You swiftly shot your web at him, pulling him from the car as it continued to fall down. By the time it hit the ocean, Jack was safely hanging by your web. You instantly looked down at the water in great relief before you started pulling him up to the bridge.

There his father was to greet him with a hug, holding on as tightly as he possibly could. You fully climbed onto the railing on your way back up, squatting on the railing as you looked at the father and son. 

That’s when the man turned to you with a question, “Who are you?”

“I’m Spider-Woman,” you answered simply before swinging off.

—

“Of course that happens as soon as you leave my room,” Tara lightly shook her head, referring to the incident on the bridge. She was in your bedroom, changing into her pajamas as the two of you spoke. You convinced her to stay overnight at your place this time. She just told Sam she was staying at Mindy’s. A small, yet convincing, lie. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I was there. I… if I wasn’t there… I don’t even wanna think about it,” you held a sorrowful tone as you murmured. Tara looked up as she heard the dread in your voice, beginning to walk over to you. You were sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard, when she came up to you.

“Listen to me.” She was now straddling your waist, her hands cupped your jaw as your own hands rested on her hipline. “What you did? Was beyond incredible. You brought that kid back to his dad–”

“–I almost didn’t though. I was so close to losing him.” Your eyes look down to the side, the overwhelming feeling of what could have happened taking over you.

“Don’t stress yourself over the what if’s,” she softly lifted your face back up with her hands so your eyes could meet hers.

A smile started to slowly graze your face before you responded, “Did you just quote me?”

“Hey, your advice isn’t half-bad.” She reciprocated your smile; your face was less than inches apart, you both couldn’t help but glance at the other’s lips.

“Well thank you. Sometimes I need to hear it from someone else, especially if that someone's you,” you said truthfully; you brushed your thumb against her hip.

“Glad I could be helpful.”

“Now, didn’t I recall somebody wanting to play Twister?”

Tara giggled, shaking her head. “I wasn’t serious about that. I was just trying to see if I could hold you captive a little longer,” she confessed.

“Gasp! Nuh uh, no way,” you sarcastically responded.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, her smile never faltering. 

“What do you wanna do then?” 

You and Tara spent the night making out, watching movies, and eating leftover pizza. You found yourselves tangled with one another, once again. You looked down at Tara’s face as the TV screen' light illuminated off of her face; you simply couldn’t look away.

She was the most beautiful being you have ever had the blessing of laying your eyes upon. Every time you looked into her eyes, stared at her longingly from across the room, hugged her, kissed her, heard her voice, or simply just thought of her—each was a reminder and reason.

You would protect Tara no matter the cost. You would die for her.

—

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this… again.” You were carrying Tara on your back to your bedroom. Tara’s chin rested on your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your shoulders, and you held onto her legs, adjusting every now and then.

“Because you’re obsessed with me,” Tara remarked before placing a kiss to your neck that gave you shivers. You mumbled something under your breath. “What was that?”

“Nothing, dear!” 

“Nice save.”

“I try,” you reply as you push your half opened bedroom door all the way open. Tara snuggled closer to you as you approached the bed. “Tara… you know you actually have to get off my back in order to get into bed, right?” 

“Ugh, sooo tired,” she murmured with half-lid eyes. 

“Just loosen your arms a bit for me, hun. I’ll just throw—” You glance over at Tara and see her wearing a scowl; maybe you should choose your next words more carefully. “—gently place you on the bed.” 

“Fine,” she said in a muffled tone—the lower part of her face now resting on your shoulder.

You felt her loosen her arms before you did as you said you would; you gently place her down on the bed, putting a pillow behind her head and then the blanket over her. You began to walk away to change into your pajamas, but stopped when you felt a tug on your sleeve.

“Don’t go,” Tara said in a sleepy voice.

“I’m still here, just changing into some new clothes. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” After a few seconds, you got a nod from her. You placed a kiss on her cheek before you turned to change; you decided to move your clothes over to change a little closer to where Tara’s resting. It wouldn’t hurt to stay close.

Once you changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, you crawled into bed with Tara and pulled some of the blanket over you. Almost as soon as you got into bed, Tara turned around to face you; her eyes were still closed as she got closer and rested her head on your chest, putting an arm over your stomach. You accepted her embrace, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. You held each other closely through the night.

Tara's warm embrace was more than enough to get you through said night.

-----------

A/N: cookie to anybody who got the flash reference

Taglist: @gaylorvader

[romanowork]

[kashians]

KaSh AR: Push Ups scene

Episode 087 [Part 3]

[madxyy]

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am. 

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did. 

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’ 

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …” 

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips. 

Selfish. You can’t help it. 

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber. 

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence. 

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat. 

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one.  “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection. 

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero. 

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob. 

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos. 

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt. 

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity. 

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal. 

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.  

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more. 

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.” 

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered. 

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

[mlfirescaped]

something im not giving you context for

remember its just a theory a ga- karma: ok stfu we get it its not like you said it 4 fucking times on instagram sheeeesh ok says the plant who surprisingly has crushes anyways this is more of a confession on why the fuck my characters like so and so fyi the characters that my characters mention will in fact be censored!! for uh reasons...ANYWAYS karma: i hope you know your in this too ah fuck- karma: SO LETS START WITH YOU SINCE YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF!! karma: so why do you hate [REDACTED] so much ayy? ...cause from what i've been told by [REDACTED] that [REDACTED] i think likes likes [REDACTED] which uhhhh is why im not gonna kill him BUT I MAY UH arson :] karma: lord you need lessons on how to be a villain OK BUT WHY DO YOU LIKE [REDACTED] HUH?! ARENT YOU LIKE ASEXUAL?! karma: when they look like a badass woman then im into it besides i can fight for her since theres others who love her, also about the asexual thing- i've been questioning the sexuality so you like woman? karma: i am pan congrats ig- but yes i like woman its not like i got divorced by a woman before YOU WERE MARRIED?! karma: yes now shut your trap unless you want to go into detail on [REDACTED]~ ...no...NOT HERE ANYWAYS! karma: oh but i bet you want [REDACTED] sooo dead now do you?~ besides he's stealing [REDACTED] from you~ dont you want him dead? to have [REDACTED] do you know how to kill [REDACTED]? he is uh...you know karma: i've killed many cogs in my time of course i know how to kill [REDACTED] do you want me to teach you on how to be a villain?~ m-maybe... karma: hmm...tomorrow then maybe- ANYWAYS I WE GOT SO OFF TRACK!! UH UH UH ok Mrs. Wishes wishes: please just call me Wishes ok wishes...why do you hate [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and [REDACTED}? wishes: well you see those three boys look like some trouble and that woman...doesnt look so friendly...all of them remind me of well MY EX HUSBAND karma: sup ### wishes: this is why your luck is ####... karma: uh huh go suck a ##### wishes: *gasp* karma: ok this post is getting too long i suggest a part 2 besides its like 12:36am for you- uh yea ig i will do this tomorrow?

[tianasficrecs168]

Spideypool Fic Recs

A black dot • means it's a one-shot

A heart ♡ means it's focused on Sexy times (it's pure filth PWP)

Scarlett_starlett: “Are you sure you wanna’ love me?” (Wade/Peter) • Spider-Man is everything Peter Parker wishes he could be—witty, confident, loud, sassy, and sexy… This is no more apparent to him than when Deadpool walks past him without a second glance the first time they meet. It sucks, considering Peter Parker has an embarrassing crush on the ex-merc.

Dontcareajot: “Damage” (Wade/Peter) Peter Parker finds himself in a sticky situation and who should show up to rescue him but the infamous Deadpool? Now Peter feels indebted to the mercenary... And maybe weirdly charmed by him.

isaDanCurtisproduction: “Petey and Wade discuss the proper way to go about vigilantism (and maybe they fall in love too)” (Wade/Peter) Deadpool totally crashes Peter's lunch date with some left-overs Aunt May had inundated him with, and Peter is like "Woah, isn't that that murder guy?" and then it kind of spirals from there. And maybe when Peter first saw Deadpool, decked out with fuzzy panda gloves and enough guns to take down a small monarchy, he should have high-tailed it the other way, but where's the fun in that, right? Right???

Orphan_account: “You Big Disgrace” (Wade/Peter) a two-shot series Wade’s hanging by one leg from the firescape outside Peter’s seventh floor apartment, katanas sheathed on his back and a gun on each thigh - but he’s frozen like a deer in the headlights, as if Peter poses some sort of threat, standing like an idiot at the open window in sweatpants and no shirt, only a flashlight and a thin smattering of chest hair to defend himself.

ChuckleVoodoos: “Hot Cocoa and Heroes” (Wade/Peter) • When a strange hero breaks into his apartment to hole up for the night, Peter Parker is not pleased. And yet somehow he goes from swinging a baseball bat at the guy to sharing a mug of hot cocoa with him.

Zeropercent (orphan_account): “Clenched Teeth And Fluttering Eyes” (Wade/Peter) • The first time Peter sees Wade, really sees him, he doesn’t know what to think.

Cherryvanilla: “Wasn't looking for this” (Wade/Peter) a series, one of three When the Avengers had briefed him on Deadpool, they played up the Kills People for Money and Has No Real Morals angle and left out the Is Pretty Damn Funny and Charming in a Weird, Terrifying Sort of Way part. Or, five times they meet on rooftops plus one time they take it to the streets* (*with apologies to The Doobie Brothers).

        

Mokuyoubi: “One for the Books” (Wade/Peter) ♡ • And, like, there’s a million reasons NOT to do this, primary among them the whole it’s Deadpool thing and being in a library with the police outside, but Peter has a feeling this isn’t going to take very long, and they’ve been dancing around this forever. Wade gives a roll of his hips and Peter’s hands are suddenly working without his permission, rolling up Wade’s mask until the second his mouth is visible. MRA terrorists storm the library, and Peter is unreasonably jealous of how into his secret identity Deadpool seems to be.

Doctorestranged: “Dead Men Walking” (Wade/Peter) part of a series, one of four When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

Jilliancares: “Let me explain” (Wade/Peter) • Wade scoffs, shaking his head and elbowing Peter in the side. “Sure,” he says, sarcastic. “That’s why your spidey-sense doesn’t see me.” Peter’s on the verge of laughing, wanting to join Wade in his amusement, but he freezes. His entire body goes still. He finds himself staring at a roof three buildings over, not even looking at anything. Two blocks away, a car alarm finally shuts off. “I never told you that,” Peter says, the realization startling him. Or: Peter's starting to realize just how much Wade knows about him.

PrinceMalice: - “Break My Face” (Wade/Peter) • Deadpool died all the time. It was kind of a modus operandi with the mercenary. He was used to it. In a sick way, Peter was also used to it. The merc would take a bullet to the brain like a tic tac. No matter how gnarled or dismembered he became, Deadpool always pulled himself together, and it was normal. . Or four times Wade died saving Peter's life, and the one time Peter almost died saving his.

Riseofthefallenone: - “Puppy ex Machina” (Wade/Peter) A year after his divorce, Peter is trapped in a depressive cycle and still not quite over Mary Jane. When she shows up at his door, begging him to watch her dog for a week while she leaves town, he can’t really bring himself to say “no”. No one was expecting that little Pomeranian to turn his life around and help him realize that his friendship with Wade has been teetering on the edge of something more for a while.