#green goblin II

[inky-squid-art]

the boyssssssss :(((((

[marvel-sitcom-au]

Trying to draw the young avengers….drew this little Cassian and Harry based off my recent morbius rewatch instead

[professorambrius]

Night of the Goblin Part III

Halloween Night is the Night of the Goblin. The Second Green Goblin and the Third Hobgoblin.

[hellomystraightlacedfriend]

Harry Osborn Aesthetic/Art: John Romita Sr., John Romita Jr.

[spideysenze]

don’t think i posted this here

[hrrtshape]

lmao girl I deleted peter's ass too. can we have your marauders backstory or script or smth though? because james' cousin?? that's tea and I need it (insert squidward begging pic)

　EMMAS MARAUDERS ✶ DESIRED REALITY.

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT I. 　　　　　　　　　" meet EMMALINA ! " 　　　　THE SHIMMERING WITCH of gryffindor tower.

with russian-french roots and a family name that whispers through the halls of wizarding infamy, she strides through hogwarts like a fox, literally, given her animagus form, equal parts grace and mischief. cousin to james potter (who swears his frenchness shows in his hair), she brings an aristocratic flair to his otherwise scruffy charm.

the history of magic classroom might as well be her throne room. while others yawn, she's weaving tales of goblin rebellions like an academic bard. there’s no peter pettigrew in this reality (we don’t talk about him), leaving the marauding dynamic sharper, cleaner, and ready for some dazzling drama.

born on the honeyed cusp of dawn in 1960, emmalina juliette [...] did not so much enter the world as she stormed it, small fists curled like questions, arriving amidst the shadowy splendour of Iskanderhall, her family’s ancestral manor. iskanderhall wasn’t just a home; it was a kingdom in its own right. draped in mist and arrogance, nestled in the raw heart of the untamed highlands, the estate sprawled like a great sleeping beast, its turrets clawing at the sky. whispered myths clung to its walls, a place where secrets seemed stitched into the stones. even the wind carried a kind of conspiratorial hush, as though it knew something no one else did.

emmalina’s early years were a tug-of-war between the suffocating grandeur of her bloodline and the wild freedom of the highlands. the [...]s, distant relation to the russian imperial family (a detail her mother embroidered into every conversation like a prized crest on a dinner napkin), had escaped to britain generations ago, bringing with them their storied high-brow arrogance, treasures that gleamed like unsaid truths, and a reputation for being brilliantly dangerous. her parents ruled over iskanderhall with the kind of presence that could silence a room, her father with a steely gaze, her mother with the kind of smile that could curdle milk. they expected nothing less than perfection, the kind that could waltz into a room and leave an impression, and they weren’t shy about saying so.

but emmalina, oh, that sweet summer child, had the wild in her veins. between lectures on the noble responsibilities of pureblood supremacy, she would slip away, barefoot and unbothered, to the hills. here, where the air tasted of heather and mischief, she discovered her animagus form: a sleek, flame-furred fox.

sirius was one of the few bright spots in her otherwise curated childhood. his family, the ever-dour blacks, frequented iskanderhall for summer soirées and political whispers. while their parents sipped blood-red wine and traded thinly veiled threats over crystal decanters, emma and sirius carved their own conspiracies. he was all dark rebellion and smirks; she was sharp-tongued and feral around the edges, a duo born for trouble. their friendship was not so much a bond as a secret language, a rebellion against the velvet cages of their upbringings.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT II.

when her hogwarts letter arrived, her parents expected her to glide into slytherin or, at worst, ravenclaw, carrying the [...] name like a banner. but the sorting hat, bless its insolent fabric, spent an age hemming and hawing before settling on gryffindor. there was something foxlike in her heart, it decided, a ferocity that didn’t belong in green or blue.

at hogwarts, emmalina was a comet, blazing and impossible to ignore. her silvery accent and cool self-possession cloaked her in intrigue, but it was her partnership with her cousin, james potter, that truly set the castle alight. together, they turned hogwarts into their personal theatre of chaos. the gryffindor common room bore the brunt of their experiments, and if a prefect caught them, james would charm his way out while emmalina, ever the fox, slipped away unnoticed. sirius, of course, was their shadow, laughing all the while, and remus added a reluctant balance. peter pettigrew, as far as they were concerned, didn’t exist; in fact, in this version of reality, he’d been conveniently hexed out of existence before term began as we don't need backstabbing c$#ts around here.

but beneath the hijinks, emmalina was a paradox, a girl whose laugh could undo a room but who secretly devoured history of magic with a hunger no one could fathom. while her peers groaned through binns’ droning lectures, emmalina filled page after page with scrawled notes, her fascination with forgotten goblin rebellions and obscure wizarding wars betraying an academic streak no one expected.

her most curious entanglement, however, was with coriolanus snow. a slytherin to his polished bone, he was the heir to one of the wizarding world’s most notorious families. their interactions began as rivalry, sharp-tongued exchanges in the corridors, hexes lobbed across the great hall like poorly aimed arrows. no one knew when the venom turned to venom-laced attraction, when “i hate you” slipped into “i despise you” before landing, ungracefully, in “i love you.” they burned like wildfire, their arguments loud enough to wake the castle, their stolen moments of tenderness hidden like contraband. they were everything their friends loathed: fire and ice, chaos and control, doomed yet incandescent.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT III.

miss [...] thrived at hogwarts, blending her intellectual curiosity with her daring gryffindor spirit. her favourite subjects were astronomy, history of magic, and muggle studies, where she excelled due to her ability to draw connections between magical and non-magical worlds. she often found herself at the astronomy tower, charting the stars in peaceful solitude, or passionately debating the nuances of magical history with anyone who would listen.

professor mcgonagall took a particular liking to emmalina, impressed by her sharp mind and unwavering determination. she became a frequent visitor to mcgonagall’s office, seeking advice or discussing transfiguration techniques. mcgonagall’s approval only fuelled emma's ambition, and she strove to make her head of house proud in every endeavor.

her circle of friends extended beyond the marauders to include lily evans, dorcas meadowes, and her close companion lily rose, a fiercely loyal gryffindor who shared emma's love for late-night stargazing and whispered secrets. together, they navigated the highs and lows of hogwarts life, from study sessions in the library to daring escapades that left even the marauders impressed.

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT IV. 　　　　　THE CHRONICLES OF HOGWARTS 　　　　( AND THE SCANDALS THAT FOLLOWED )

emma—a calamity, empress of bedlam, and self-appointed sovereign of sand dunes since that one time in her fifth year when dyeing her locks copper must have singed her last shred of restraint—was simply not entertaining the james-and-sirius soap opera hour. let them bicker over who could charm their quills faster or who had the sharper jawline in moonlight. meanwhile, she was over here, casually assembling a tabloid empire that could topple the ministry itself.

take a seat, spectators. let us dissect how emma, with all the grace of a caffeinated banshee, planned to rule hogwarts, temporarily but with a permanence that only chaos can cement. picture it: eric cartman reimagined as a gryffindor princess, machiavelli in silk stockings, all wrapped in a sylvia plath first edition. a walking oxymoron of aristocratic tantrums and poetic nihilism, she made roman roy look like a first-year hufflepuff lost in the corridors.

⋆ the hourglass annihilation : at precisely 11:59 pm, the enchanted hourglasses would combust into glitter and confusion, rendering gryffindor and slytherin’s house points irrelevant. ravenclaw, oddly enough, would gain 150 points overnight. weird. suspicious. downright uncanny, truly.

⋆ the great feast famine : she waltzed into the kitchens under the guise of a hard-hitting exposé on house-elf oppression but instead orchestrated a pumpkin juice shortage to fuel her underground black-market butterbeer racket. supply and demand, lovies. don't hate the players, hate the game.

⋆ polyjuice party-crashing : with her cousin james’ invisibility cloak in tow, she infiltrated the slytherin dormitory meeting. to this day, lucius malfoy hasn’t lived down the atrocious rumours of his tragic toe fungus.

⋆ the whomping willow curse : emma, ever the quick-buck entrepreneur (blame her mother), spread whispers that the whomping willow was cursed to ensnare romantically unsatisfied couples during their hogsmeade dates. pda levels skyrocketed as couples made embarrassing public displays of “true love.”

⋆ the quidditch match sabotage : a quick word with peeves, a little ghostly streaking at the hufflepuff vs. ravenclaw game, and voilà—exclusive interview rights to his exposé: “ poltergeist in polyester: peeves speaks. ”

⋆ the frog choir conspiracy : convincing half the school that the choir’s frogs were polyjuiced students was a stroke of genius. “could this be thy, jeremy?” read the blurry photo of a suspiciously human-like frog mid-jump.

⋆ the room of requirement rave : emma turned hogwarts’ most magical secret into the underground party hotspot, charging entry fees that somehow all went into firewhiskey and peeves’ DJ salary. bagpipes-only playlists, take it or leave it.

⋆ the prefect bathroom soap opera : one enchanted bubble bath later, and every gryffindor prefect’s secrets were whispered into the steam: “i saw you pick you nose, jude, i will tell everyone!”

emma wasn’t just causing anarchy; she was building an empire, brick by glittery, scandalous brick. from the sorting hat coup (sorting first-years into “badger bros” and “parseltongue posse”) to the owlery hostage crisis (an uprising demanding chocolate frogs as postage payment), she was an unstoppable, and truly, an annoying force.

when the great hall time-turner incident derailed every quidditch match for weeks, and the slytherin economic collapse left lucius malfoy red-faced and 100 galleons poorer, emma was somewhere in the room of requirement, sipping butterbeer and plotting her next move.

she wasn’t merely the gryffindor head firl; she was now the head of state. if hogwarts didn’t rename its history books after her, it was committing educational malpractice. build her a throne. preferably made of all the broken house points hourglasses she destroyed. her tabloid is just the first step in my empire. next stop: ministry of magic. by force. naturally.

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT V. 　　　　　　　　　THE ACADEMIC PORTRAIT.

ASTRONOMY : 7 / 7 — stars don’t lie, and neither does emmalina’s perfect score. her knack for celestial navigation is unmatched, and she has a little habit of slipping poetic metaphors about constellations into her essays. she’s also mastered the art of charming professor sinistra by always showing up to stargazing sessions with perfectly rolled parchment and a bit of dramatic flair (think: velvet cloaks and faux-cryptic musings about the moon).

PROFESSOR SINASTRA'S NOTES : “ miss ... has an uncanny ability to map the heavens with precision, though her insistence on turning every constellation into a metaphor for doomed romances is... unique. ”

HISTORY OF MAGIC : 7 / 7 — naturally. a direct result of her obsessive reading, family archives, and a romanticised view of the past. she’s that annoying student who voluntarily writes extra essays, constantly debates binns on niche points of goblin history. she’s genuinely convinced she’ll be in the textbooks someday.

PROFESSOR BINN'S NOTES : “ she is one of the few students to actively engage with my lectures. [...] while her tendency to editorialise is frustrating, her work is meticulous and her arguments, while dramatic, are logically sound. ”

MUGGLE STUDIES : 6 / 7 — she insists she’s "too cultured" for this class but secretly loves it because it’s her ticket to overdramatic critiques of her classmates’ lack of muggle knowledge. professor tofty was so charmed by her footnotes (and latent existential commentary) that they gave her a near-perfect grade.

PROFESSOR TOTFY'S NOTES : “ her grasp of muggle culture is impressive, though she approaches the subject with a certain aloofness, as if observing a particularly exotic bird. while her essay on the psychological implications of traffic lights was unnecessarily existential, it was also utterly fascinating. ”

POTIONS : 5 / 7

— slughorn knows she lied about her grandma dying, but her tears were convincing enough that he caved. brewing potions, for emma, is less about precision and more about vibes; sometimes it works, sometimes it explodes, and she’s fine with either outcome.

PROFESSOR SLUGHORN'S NOTES : “ ah, a curious case. her potions are unpredictable at best, explosive at worst, but she makes up for it with undeniable charm. ”

TRANSFIGURATION : 6 / 7

— her fox animagus tendencies are both a gift and a curse. on the one hand, mcgonagall appreciates her natural talent for animal-related transfigurations; on the other, she’s constantly penalised for her “creative liberties” (like transfiguring someone’s quill into a lizard mid-class “for a laugh”).

PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL'S NOTES : “ miss ... has natural talent but lacks discipline. i've repeatedly warned her that transfiguring classmates’ belongings into woodland creatures is not ‘creative problem-solving.’ if she ever learns to focus her efforts, she could excel in this subject. ”

CHARMS : 7 / 7 — duelling club MVP and absolute show-off. she can cast a perfect aguamenti with a casual flick, and her summoning charms are so on point that she once “accidentally” summoned sirius’s shoe from across the castle. flitwick loves her enthusiasm but occasionally has to remind her that magic is not, in fact, not lighthearted.

PROFESSOR FLITWICK'S NOTES : " a brilliant student with a knack for charmwork that borders on showmanship. her only fault is her love of spectacle—her recent essay on the alohomora charm inexplicably included glitter. "

DIVINATION : 6 / 7 — as a natural oracle (and dramatic flair enthusiast), she’s great at the theatrical side of this class. however, she has a bad habit of predicting catastrophes purely to stir up drama. once foretold a student would “trip into his true love,” and when it happened during dinner, she took full credit.

PROFESSOR TRELAWNEY'S NOTES : “ miss ... is undoubtedly gifted, though her talent is often overshadowed by her dramatic tendencies. nonetheless, her scrying is superb, and her visions, while eccentric, are often eerily accurate. ”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT VI. 　　　　　　　　　　　THE HOBBIES.

archaic letter writing : she writes letters to friends on parchment using quills dipped in absurdly expensive enchanted ink, letters so beautifully crafted they could be sold as art. sometimes, she forgets to send them.

sketching history : emma loves to draw little caricatures of historical witches and wizards in the margins of her textbooks. slughorn caught her once during potions, only to discover a rather flattering sketch of himself as a duelling champion.

enchanted origami : she folds parchment into tiny enchanted animals that hop across desks or flutter around classrooms. one time, a paper phoenix burst into flames in flitwick’s class, causing quite the uproar.

fortune-telling experiments : she doesn’t believe in divination but keeps a deck of tarot cards she uses to intimidate people in the common room (“your future looks bleak, lovie. maybe don’t eat the shepherd’s pie tonight?”).

collecting trivial magical facts : she has a journal stuffed with obscure magical trivia, like the exact number of cauldron explosions recorded in hogwarts history (321, if anyone’s curious).

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT VII. 　　　　　　　FAVOURITE SPOTS IN HOGWARTS.

the trophy room : she claims it’s the most underrated place to people-watch because of the odd assortment of students sneaking in to polish old awards. she even made up a game called trophy stories, where she and her friends invent scandalous backstories for the winners.

the owlery : she finds solace in the chaos of screeching owls and the lingering smell of parchment and rain. when no one’s looking, she recites poetry to the owls like she’s performing to a rapt audience.

the kitchens : she has a special spot in the corner where the house-elves sneak her freshly baked éclairs and orange juice. she insists that the elves give her life advice better than any professor.

the astronomy tower (but not at night) : she goes there early in the morning to watch the sunrise and reflect on her most recent academic rivalries.

the lake’s edge : she dips her toes into the water and chats with the squid like they’re old pals. she swears it “understands her” and sends her approving splashes when she’s feeling low.

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　ACT VIII. 　　　　　　　　　　 LOVE LIFE CHAOS.

emma, gryffindor’s gleaming crown jewel, all head girl polish and unshakeable poise, finds herself tangled, no, downright ensnared, in a maddening duel of wit, charm, and unresolved, spark-shooting tension with none other than coriolanus snow. the slytherin head boy. heir to ambition so icy it burns, a charisma that sidles right up to discomfort, and a smirk that makes her want to fling her inkpot across the great hall. he’s the sort of boy who makes you forget to breathe when he walks into a room, infuriating, insufferable, intoxicating, and frankly, it’s ruining her life.

what begins as pure academic warfare (she’s all quills-out precision; he’s maddeningly cool rebuttals) quickly morphs into something stickier, trickier, downright labyrinthine. they’ve got the whole castle holding their breath, watching this slow, delicious train wreck unfold.

in public, they’re sugar-coated thorns. their words cut, sure, but with a syrupy kind of sweetness that leaves everyone buzzing. he’ll saunter up in charms and adjust her wand grip with the most insufferable smirk, murmuring, “ if you’re aiming to turn the teapot into a shoe, you’re doing splendidly. ” she’ll retaliate in charms, slicing his arguments to ribbons with a smile so bright it could outshine lumos. they’re gossip fodder for everyone, even the fat lady leans closer when they bicker near the gryffindor common room (which he visits suspiciously often).

but oh, behind the scenes it's another beast entirely. snow, mr. too-cool-to-care, has saved her spot in the library far too many times for it to be coincidence. (“ it’s quieter here, ” he’ll mutter, not meeting her eyes.) and emma, who swore on merlin’s saggy socks she wouldn’t give him the time of day, has slipped him notes about transfiguration essays because, godric help her, she felt bad.

and then there are the patrols, those velvet-dark hours when the castle’s asleep, save for the flicker of their wandlight and the soft echo of their footsteps. side by side, no words spoken, the air crackles with something unnamed. It’s like standing in the eye of a storm, knowing full well the winds are coming but too enchanted by the stillness to move.

the astronomy tower knows too much. it’s where their arguments, ambition versus courage, slytherin versus gryffindor, logic versus gut feeling, dissolve into softer things. like how he hates chess because his grandmother was obsessed with it. like how she feels most herself on a broomstick, slicing through clouds. he laughs, really laughs, when she teases him about his scarily neat handwriting “ do you stencil your letters, or does it just come naturally? ”. and sometimes, when she gets too lost in the stars, he watches her. quietly. like she’s the only constellation worth memorising.

and oh, the small things. the way his lips twitch whenever she’s flustered. the way her quill digs deep into the parchment whenever he leans too close. one accidental hand brush during a yule ball, and she’s blushing harder than a howler. and him? he’ll cover for her during potions disasters, not because he cares, mind you, but because listening to slughorn wax poetic about “ unrealised brilliance ” isn’t worth the headache. “ you owe me, ” he’ll say, voice low, eyes strangely softer than sleep.

the castle knows something’s brewing, of course it does. it’s in the charged glances that stretch too long, the smirks that linger, the way their arguments hum with an undercurrent of something else. neither will admit it, of course. not yet. but when you’re debating wand movements and holding eye contact like it’s oxygen, well, the feelings have already gone and written their own love letter.

what comes next? that’s a riddle only time, and perhaps a few midnight patrols, can solve.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

do you have any tips for writing realistic superheroes? A character like batman for instance

Writing Notes: Superhero Fiction

Superhero Fiction - a style of fiction that focuses on protagonists with superhuman capabilities.

Typically the superhero main character exists in a version of our present day world, only with carefully chosen fantastical alterations.

This produces a natural overlap with the genre known as urban fantasy, which combines fantastic worldbuilding with grounded gritty elements of today’s world.

Necessary Tropes

You generally need superpowers — although of course Batman got around without them. But then, some might say that his Crazy-Prepared abilities, superhuman level of easily accessible monetary wealth, and alleged company favouritism are superpowers in and of themselves...

At very least, then, we can say that you need characters who have abilities that are above and beyond those of most average people.

Even Badass Normal superheroes such as Batman and Iron Man still have such abilities as near-genius level deductive insight, martial arts skills and engineering genius that sets them apart from everyday civilians.

Superheroes also generally require the Secret Identity - a public superhero identity and a private civilian identity.

This is not uniform, however, and there's many superheroes who only have one (and even for those who have both, sometimes it's the civilian identity that's the mask, and the Superhero form is the real "them").

Costumes and code names are also iconic for the genre.

Common Plot Elements of Superhero Fiction

No two pieces of superhero fiction are quite the same, but many common elements connect the touchstones of the genre. Here are a few iconic superhero tropes:

An urban metropolis setting based on New York City. New York was America’s capital of culture and media during the Great Depression and World War II, just as comic books were surging to life. As such, many superhero comics were set in New York or in very close approximations such as Gotham City.

A superpower, often enabled by a specialized item. Superheroes can do things that ordinary humans cannot. Often these superpowers are made possible by fantastical items, such as Superman’s cape or Iron Man’s mechanized suit of armor. Not all superpowered items are clothing-related, but capes are a common element of superhero fiction.

A dramatic origin story. Writers of superhero fiction take pains to explain how their protagonists attained their powers and why they’ve chosen their path in life. Some superhero origin stories are tragic, like that of Bruce Wayne losing his parents before becoming Batman. Others are more circumstantial, like the story of Peter Parker being bitten by a radioactive spider and becoming Spider-Man.

A secret identity. Many superheroes lead dual lives in the everyday world, surrounded by people who never suspect their vigilante alter ego. Whether it’s Superman moonlighting as newspaper reporter Clark Kent, or Batman hiding behind the character of billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, a superhero’s “normal” persona includes a carefully concocted mix of similarities and differences from their heroic alter ego.

A supervillain adversary. Superheroes have fantastical powers. So do their adversaries, who commonly categorized as supervillains. In some cases, supervillains are just as famous as the superheroes they fight. The Joker, Loki, and Magneto serve as examples. Some of the best superhero books feature adversaries that are in fact anti-heroes—misfits with a renegade ethos like Catwoman who thrive on misanthropic behavior. Just like the heroes, most of these bad guys also employ a secret identity. For instance, most of the time, Spider-Man’s nemesis the Green Goblin is industrialist Norman Osborn.

An iconic sidekick. A hero can rarely save humanity without some help. That’s why Batman has Robin and Captain America has Bucky Barnes.

A superhero story can take on many forms, including superhero novels, superhero movies, and the hallmark of the superhero genre, the comic book.

Many literary historians consider the Great Depression and World War II era to be the golden age of superhero comics. Audiences enjoyed their escapist plots, their strong moral ethos, and the books’ affordable cost.

The comic book boom continued into the Cold War era, which also spawned comic books’ close cousins, graphic novels.

Superhero filmmaking is now enjoying its own golden age, as the first two decades of the 21st century have been dominated by Hollywood blockbusters adapted from classic twentieth century comic books.

In one way or another, we've enjoyed stories about superheroes for centuries.

Tales about men and women blessed with extraordinary powers and abilities using those gifts to champion the innocent and battle the forces of darkness have circulated throughout mythology and literature since ancient times.

However, the idea of what we today think of as the superhero has its origins in the pulp magazines and comic strips of the 1930s, and its genesis with the 1938 debut of Superman, who over 80 years later remains in regular publication as a comic book as well as the subject of cartoons, films, TV shows, and more besides.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

You can find more tropes in this genre here to help you create your character. And more tips here that provides a guide on the common themes, possible subversions, and pitfalls when using these tropes. Hope this helps with your writing!

[hazelsmirrorball]

Undercover Spider-Woman II. | Hazel Callahan

Spider-woman! Hazel Callahan x Villain! Reader Summary:  Green Goblin has a love hate relationship with Spider-Woman Warnings: english isn’t my main language, not proof-read,fighting, daddy issues a/n: Thank you so much for reading the first part. I hope you enjoy it!

part one

Y/n always wanted to please her dad. Maybe it was her daddy issues or the fact that he was the only thing she had left, both her mother and brother tragically passing away a few years back. They only had each other. He was the only person she could call family so she made it her mission to always keep him happy or at least somewhat. Y/n was deadly afraid of her father, never wanting to be on his bad side. She knew about his other persona and it scared her. 

Doctor Norman Virgil Osborn was a regular rich dude, founder and CEO of Oscorp which specialized in military research. Y/n’s father always wanted power so that’s what he got. He had created a powerful yet unsuitable performance enhancer, that was intended to enhance strengths to individuals but as he tried it on himself his superhuman levels increased giving him artificially enhanced physiology, superhuman durability, reflexes, regenerative healing factor, speed, stamina, agility and strength. But everything has its consequences making him develop a dissociative identity disorder, that’s when the chaotically sadistic psychopath Green Goblin was born. 

But that didn’t stop him, he wanted more so he involved his daughter, Y/n. Y/n could care less about her dad’s evil plans so when he had gotten a hold of another syringe full of that performance enhancer, things started to change. He had done several researches on it, perfecting the formula that he had used on himself, not waiting for his daughter to go insane as he was, he cared at least a little.

So in sophomore year, Y/n had become Green Goblin 2.0. Y/n at first  wasn’t completely convinced of the idea of having to be a psychopathic villain but her dad was finally proud of her, so she sucked it up. Having the performance enhancer made her powerful and her dad had managed to fix some of the flaws that he had suffered from. But she still had the Green Goblin inside of her. She found herself acting on anger and impulsiveness. So maybe she was caught up with being a true villain. 

Y/n walked as fast as she could, feeling as if someone was following her. She turned around scanning her surroundings knowing that tonight she was in for a treat. Having so much energy left from the fight club and building tension from the almost kiss with Hazel made her go into a little frenzy, throwing a little mischief in the city here and there. Nothing too big or problematic but something that would make Spider Woman's life a little difficult. She jumped on the lid of the dumpster pushing the window of the abandoned building open, slipping her body in with ease inside. 

Her dads evil lair, a stupid abandoned building in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t have a damn car so she found herself walking every dad to that dumpster in God  knows where. It was supposed to be their hideout, not too extravagant and a way from them to keep things on the low but she found this place being her second home, not wanting to face her dad when he was on the brink of insanity she decided to take the evil lair as her own. 

“Well at least I can somewhat relax a little” Y/n said to herself, quickly taking her shoes off. In an attempt to take them off while holding all her things she slammed her foot on the wall. “For fucks sakes” she yelled in pain as she rubbed the affected spot trying to ease the pain. Y/n found it quite difficult due to the fact that she was still holding all her things so she angrily threw her things on the floor and quickly held onto her left foot. While doing so her right foot got caught on her bag making her fall face first onto the floor. Y/n screamed onto the floor clearly frustrated, she dragged her body against the wooden floor, her laziness and  anger taking over. 

When she finally got a hold of the couch she reached forward gaining balance to stand up from the floor. Y/n looked towards the refrigerator as she hopped towards it, in an attempt to get some ice. When she finally reached it, she looked in the freezer only noticing a bag of peas and sighed, fight club was really taking a toll on her. She desperately wanted to take her mask off but before she did she heard someone clear her throat behind her, making her turn around.

And there she was in all her glory. Spider Woman hanging from the ceiling staring at her with her mask covering her face. She waved her hand slowly, like she was trying to taunt her in some way. She could bet she was smiling under that damn mask. Had she seen Y/n miserably drag herself on the floor? Or how she hit her leg? God, this was so embarrassing.   Too many things were going through the woman's head; she didn’t even notice Spider-Woman had started talking.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” She asked again, standing up and walking towards her, her  demeanor overpowering hers. Y/n closed the freezer groaning as she gripped on the counter in front of her. She didn’t have the energy to do this, not today.

“I know we don’t get along and what not but breaking into my place? That’s a new low, even for you. I thought Superheroes knew what boundaries were. ” Y/n said as she took a deep breath, gaining her composure and sending a fake smile towards Spider-Woman's way. 

“Wanted to know what your evil lair looked like in real life. I thought it was going to be all dark and evil, maybe a knife collection on the walls, torture devices here and there. But this? I wasn’t expecting this. It’s quite homey, I didn't expect you to have such a warm and welcoming house.” Spider- Woman said as she sat down on the counter while crossing her arms, a joking tone evident in her voice.

“ First of all, who said we didn’t hide the knife collection in the guest bedroom.  Plus dad studied interior design” she said sarcastically, while moving Spider–Woman’s legs off the counter. 

“Really?!” She exclaimed excitedly jumping off the counter. Y/n rolled her eyes, while shaking her head annoyed out of her mind. 

“No! Why the hell would he study that? Now let’s just cut to the chase. Listen, I really don’t give a damn of what you’re going to say or do. I’ve known you for years now and I know all your moves, I do something you think is “bad” then you confront me about it and put on your little show “taking me down” and blah blah blah. Today the last thing I want to do is deal with your shit. So, I believe you know the exit, it’s the same one you came in. Now do me a favor and leave.” She said getting face to  face with her  and pointing at her chest several times. 

“Explain to me what did you expect to happen when you decided to fuck around the city? A kiss and praise?” She asked while putting her head to the side inspecting her up and down. Her eyes ending on top of her also covered eyes. 

“Well, I can assure you, I expected more than  a kiss” Y/n responded without breaking the “stare down” getting closer towards her. 

“You do know I can take you down right now?” Spiderwoman said in a low voice making Y/n let out a chuckle. 

“You don’t even stand a chance” Y/n replied with a smirk leaning her hand on the wall behind Spider-Woman trapping her against the wall.

“Wanna bet?” She asked while getting inches closer to her, their foreheads almost touching.

“ I would like to see you t…” Her voice got cut by Spider-Woman pinning her up against the wall, her breathing getting unsteady from the harsh impact on her back. She pinned Y/n’s arms against the wall, making her groan angrily. 

“I like having you gasping for air, makes me proud that I’m doing my job right”

“ Are you sure about that?” She said while kicking her in the knees making her fall straight towards the ground. Y/n took the opportunity and straddled her pushing her head towards the floor in an attempt to keep her down.

“You know, I like the new changes to your suit, helps the evilness shine out”

“Makes me glow even more now that I’m winning” she said with a small smirk, making Spider-Woman groan. They both knew she could move at any time, Y/n knew it, Hazel  knew it. Y/n believe Spider-Woman never “busted” her because she liked having her around. She wouldn’t deny she had fun messing with her too, it actually made her day. Moments like this made her keep waiting to do her dad’s dirty work, because her dirty work also included Spider-Woman.

“Got lost in my beauty?” Spider-Woman asked while attempting to raise her head from the floor. Y/n pushed her down one again letting out a scoff. 

“Possibly. Now your time is up, get out. It’s time to go”  Y/n said while getting up, Spider-Woman quickly followed her actions and got up, standing dangerously close.

“That soon? I thought we were having fun?” Spider-Woman replied in a whiney voice following Y/n. 

“We were but I have things to do and places to be so how about you be a good girl and leave ” she said while putting her hand on her cheek and tapping it softly.

Hazel felt it. Like some source of power told her to leave, so she did. But not before doing the thing she had originally come here to do. 

“Don’t miss me too much” Spider- Woman grins as she shoots her spider webs sticking her hands on the counter. With ease she headed towards the freezer placing the bag of pees on her foot. “Same time next week?” She continued while taking the stash Y/n had stolen the past week. Shewaving the bag in the air and slipped out of the window. Y/n slammed her head against the counter pissed out of her mind but her eyes quickly adverted to her phone, which continuously vibrated next to her. 

“Dad is so going to kill me” Y/n slammed her head against the counter pissed out of her mind but her eyes quickly adverted to her phone, which continuously vibrated next to her. Before she could even attempt to see who was texting her due to the fact that her hands were glued onto the table her dad stumbled in a cynical look on his face. 

“What the hell dad ?!” She exclaimed, scared shitless at his sudden appearance. 

“You have to be alert, pumpkin. You can’t expect the good guys to give you a heads up before killing you” her dad responded in a bored tone while taking a mug and placing it  in front of her. He took a look at her as he sat down on the stool in front of her making himself  comfortable while Y/n stayed still looking at the mug. Why was he being nice? What did she do? Was he going to kill her? How did he find out about spiderman so quickly? 

“I thought you said, you weren’t going to be here today” She responded awkwardly shifting side to side. Her gaze turned to everywhere but her dad.  while sitting down on the couch she brought the coffee towards her lips but was met with nothing.

“Well I thought so too. I wanted to enjoy my time in the lab  but I saw through the security cameras you were almost kissing Spider Woman and decided it was time for me to come back.” He said while taking the mug in his hand while taking a sip. 

“Oh,  please dad. We weren’t flirting with each other. We are literal arch nemesis, I can’t stand her. How could I even flirt with her?  ” Y/n  muttered while looking at the sticky mess in her hands attempting to take it off. 

“Didn’t you have a crush on someone from your school? Mabel?” Her dad replied, placing the mug down. Y/n could feel her face turn red as she looked towards.

“It’s Haze..You know what it’s not important. That clearly isn’t the reason you’re here so please go on and tell me. What was the big plan you had for us?”

“We are going to kill Spider Woman” He responded nonchalantly while looking around the house.  

“What?” Y/n looked at him in shock, she had never killed anyone in her life. She wasn’t that type of criminal barely reaching  that high of a crime in their crime schemes.

“But before we do that I need your help” He responded shortly, looking at his daughter. Y/n let out a sigh turning to look at him. 

“You always do, dad”  

“I want you to find her real identity. Find it, become her friend, gain her trust and bring her to me so I can kill her. You’ll become the greatest sidekick known to mankind” He said while standing up from the chair. 

“I’m not your sidekick,” She muttered. “And to prove it, I’m taking this week off. I’m busy with school” Y/n replied as she watched her dad walk towards the door. 

“Well, when you come back you better find who’s Spider- Woman” he replied before slamming the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

“How’s your day? Did you enjoy school? Did you eat?” She said to herself as she imitated her dads voice. 

She didn’t know what her dad’s fascination with Spider-Woman was. But part of her wanted to find out who she was and uncover it. She would get all the rep around the city for revealing her  identity . Y/n L/n  was going to uncover who she was even if it was the death of her. Her dad would be her sidekick. If Spider-Woman died it was going to be in her hands, that's for sure.

Before she could even finish fantasizing over killing Spider-Woman her phone vibrated once again making her turn towards it, reading the flashing messages. 

Hazel: 

Sorry for bothering you so late. But just wanted to know if you still want to do the project together. If not I can do both parts together, it’s no problem. 

Hazel: 

By the way, it’s Hazel. 

part one

...

thank you for reading

[pearlsinmyhair]

₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: violence in this chapter (capture of an anomaly, star girl gets injured), mentions of getting stitches without anesthetic. The Fight ™. Miguel loses himself in anger twice (tread lightly). lots of cursing. use of spanish.

so…it does get worse after this chapter. hobie is a g (yes he’s here). as always, this is a platonic!miguel x reader fic, not a romantic one.

part i | part ii

word count: 2.7k

part iii: i’m not her

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

　　　　 

“let’s go over the process one more time.” miguel was saying as you both exited the trans-universe portal.

“no, please god, no.” you groaned, pressing your hand to the mask of you spider suit. “we must have gone over this a million times, miguel. this isn’t my first anomaly.”

the eye patterns of his suit narrowed. you had gotten to know his facial expressions well over the past nine months, even when he was wearing his mask.

“yes, but this one’s big. you’ve never tackled a big one before.” he claimed, and you rolled your eyes.

“telling me about it isn’t going to be the same as me actually experiencing it. just let me do my thing.” you responded, shooting a web to a nearby building and jumping up to swing.

miguel’s tight grip on the back of your suit held you still like a puppy, and you wriggled for a moment before giving in and letting him set you on the ground.

“we’re waiting for the other spider, remember? slow down.” miguel said firmly, hand resting at the base of your neck for a moment in a ‘stay’ gesture. you shrugged his hand off.

“who is it?” you asked. you had yet to work with someone other than miguel on missions. he preferred to work with you hands on, using the anomalies as a lesson.

yet another thing that was unusual: miguel didn’t do ‘partners’. jess was the closest to that before you.

miguel’s posture stiffened, and your spidey-senses tingled as you put the pieces together.

“don’t tell me.” you said in a giddy voice to him, and miguel pressed his fingers to his temples as if trying to relieve a headache.

before you could press him more, the sound of an all-too familiar guitar riff burst across the roof top you both stood on.

“hey, star girl.” came the sound of a familiar voice, slurred with a cockney accent.

you turned and ran straight to hobie, pounding your fist with his as you pulled you close by his arm around your shoulders.

“you two…know each other?” came miguel’s stern voice, glaring at you and hobie.

“yeah, we’ve met a few times around the base.” you explained as hobie shoved your shoulder playfully.

“y/n’s pretty hard to miss, boss. kinda surprised you assumed we hadn’t.” hobie said, and you didn’t miss the mocking tone in his voice as he looked at miguel.

you poked him in the ribs, willing him to behave.

he pinched your side in response, causing you to squeal and pull away from the spider punk beside you.

“enough play, let’s secure this anomaly.” miguel said, murmuring a curse in spanish as he turned from you and slung a web.

hobie looked down at you. “does he get jealous this of’en?” he asked, shooting a web of his own as he shifted his guitar up his shoulder.

you shrugged. “he’s not jealous, hobie. you just piss each other off.” you both jumped from the building, quickly locating the thing you were to capture.

“sure, i piss him off. but that was different. he’s got a soft spot, y/n”

you shrugged again as you pulled yourself up into a flip, locating the anomalies weak points.

it took a moment for you to realize just why miguel was so concerned.

the anomaly was a green goblin, and a quick one at that.

nine months ago you would have been useless in this fight. but now? miguel’s training has honed your skills, and you moved through the motions with the ease of a dancer in a well-rehearsed routine.

that was, until the goblin threw one of his smoke bombs right into your face.

the momentary blindness caused you to miss your webbing. you slammed through a window of a skyscraper into an office building, rolling across the floor and into a desk.

“fuck.” you murmured as you tried to stand, only for your legs to buckle. your ears rang from the bomb, and your eyes watered.

you removed your mask, taking a breath of fresh air as you tried to get your barings. you looked down at your body in an attempt to take stock of your injuries.

there was a laceration across your calf from the glass, and your shoulder throbbed. it took a second for you to realize that it was dislocated.

you took a few moments to rest your head back, fighting the urge to just sit and rest. you were needed. you had to get back.

you shifted up against the desk, manouveing your arm so that it sat in place before you shoved your body to the side.

you let out a strangled cry when your arm popped back into place, the pain bright but brief. your hearing was coming back, and you could hear the distant cackles of the green goblin as you stood.

you stepped to the broken window, taking a breath before you jumped back into the fight.

“hey star girl! you still with us?” shouted hobie from a distance, and you gave him a thumbs up.

he couldn’t afford the time to ask you more, simply nodding as he slammed his guitar against the goblin’s glider, causing the anomaly to fall.

orange silk stuck to the goblin’s chest, tugging him forward before a blue figure slammed into his chest, causing the two to fly into another building, disappearing from view.

you took a moment to just hang, catching your breath as you waited for miguel to give you and hobie the go ahead.

when nothing came, you scowled, swinging through the opening.

the sight that greeted you made your blood run cold.

you knew miguel could get mad. you had heard the whispers, heard the stories, listened to the tales of blood and broken bones that followed in his wake.

but nothing could compare to actually seeing his brutality.

miguel laid into the goblin, his fist colliding with his jaw over and over again, each impact sounding wetter than the last.

the anomaly’s mask was long sense shattered, and you could see the eyes of norman osborn just barely clinging to life.

“miguel stop.” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you fought down the bile rising in your throat.

but miguel didn’t hear you, slamming his fist against the goblin’s face again.

you should have known not to get too close. you were trained to stay away from close fist fights. but in that moment, nothing mattered.

you took a step closer and placed your hand against miguel’s back, trying to calm him. “mig, you need to st-“

his elbow collided with you nose with a sickening crunch. blood burst from it like a supernova, and your vision swam as you stumbled back a few steps.

hobie caught you under the armpits, hauling you back so you could both lean against a desk for support.

“miguel, what the fuck.” he was saying, voice low and angry as he pressed a ripped off part of his shirt to your nose. you winced in pain, and hobie’s eyes hardened even more.

when you finally got the courage to look up at your mentor, your mouth went dry.

because he was already looking at you, with the same mixture of guilt and regret that he had when he first took you as an apprentice.

he was on you in a second, hovering over you and cupping your face with clawed hands. looking wild while beating a man was one thing, but the devastated look he gave you now as he held you was much much worse.

hobie was still pissed, watching miguel from behind you, making sure that he was gentle.

miguel brushed the blood from your nose with a claw, looking tortured. all the while he was murmuring soft sentences in spanish, things that you didn’t quite have the mental capacity to translate, what with the broken nose and bleeding leg.

“lo siento, pequeña. no quise hacerlo, va a estar bien. mierda chica, lo siento mucho.”

you watched as hobie tapped at his watch in your peripheral, and an orange portal opened to your left. it seemed to snap miguel out of whatever trance he had fallen into, and he straightened.

he nodded to hobie, and the punk picked you up easily as miguel did the same for the now-unconscious green goblin.

“ready?” asked the spider holding you, though you knew him enough by now to understand that the question was mostly rhetorical.

you nodded as you pressed the back of your hand to your nose, preparing for the lecture that surely awaited you.

the four of you jumped into the portal, back to base.

₊ ⊹

the worst possible thing miguel can do is be quiet.

he did it often. once you had called him a ‘stewer’, because he would wait until whatever speech he was preparing was the perfect amount of cruel.

you sat in your designated chair with one leg up as the spider-doctor of the base bandaged it. it had needed stitches, and you had forced yourself to go through it without any kind of anesthesia. you had stitched up worse on your own before.

“two weeks rest, and then you’re able to go back in the field. just take it easy for now.” the doctor was saying, and you nodded. you were only truly half listening. the other half of your attention was placed upon miguel, who stood with his back turned to you not twenty feet away.

the doctor dismissed themselves, and you pulled your leg up to sit criss-cross in the chair.

it was a design by miguel himself, added when you needed a place to sit on days where your mentor was busy in his office.

you could still vaguely hear the echos of him explaining complex microbiology and gene-splicing as you did your research papers beside him.

miguel was silent for a few more beats, and you continued watching him, knowing that he felt you staring.

you had been his apprentice for nine months. you knew each others mannerisms well by now.

he let out the characteristic “you’re about to get an earful” sigh that typically haunted your nightmares.

“you almost died.”

oh.

you expected something a bit more barbed, but you could work with this.

“yes. i almost did. but i’m here, and i’m ok.”

“it doesn’t matter.” he said as he finally turned to you, with a solemn resignation in his eyes that made your heart stop.

“you. almost. died. y/n. and i can’t allow that while i’m your mentor. you’re benched.”

your confusion sharpened to irritation.

“you can’t bench me, miguel. i’m not a child.” you responded, rising from your seat. when you put weight against your freshly stitched leg you tripped slightly. miguel gave you a hard look as if it justified his decision.

“i’m your superior. if i say you’re done, you’re done. understood?” he said, with a note of finality that meant he didn’t want a response other than confirmation.

you shook your head, unwilling to back down. “no, i don’t understand.” you replied, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to look bigger next to his tall form.

“i don’t understand why you give me special treatment over others. i don’t understand why you feel the need to be so fucking protective over me. miguel, i don’t…” you sighed, gathering your words as he watched you with a carefully controlled expression.

“i know you feel a certain…responsibility over me because i’m your apprentice. and i understand your concern. but i’m also a person. i’m eighteen, soon to be nineteen. i can handle scrapes and bruises. it’s what we do-“

“y/n, it wasn’t just scrapes and bruises this time. you flew through a fucking window. jesus christ, kid, i thought you were dead.” his tone leaned to desperation, and it made any words you had prepared die in your throat.

sweet clarity.

miguel laying into the green goblin like it was personal, like it was vengeance. how the moments that you took to rest were probably actually minutes, making it look like you went AWOL. how when miguel accidentally elbowed your nose, he probably expected to find you bleeding amongst glass rather than clutching your face.

but the sympathy that normally accompanied your conversations with miguel was gone. instead, words sharpened like blades on your tongue.

“this isn’t fucking fair, miguel. i didn’t ask for this.” you said lowly.

his eyes narrowed at you. “and what exactly is this.”

the words on the tip of your tongue, ready to fire like bullets at the weakest part of miguel. the must vulnerable.

there was always an unspoken fifth rule of your partnership.

never, under any circumstances, talk about his daughter.

“being treated like i’m gabriella. like i’m some second chance for you to make things right. as if i’m just another option to make your life happier-“

you didn’t get to finish.

miguel’s hands clenched the collar of your suit, lifting you so that your toes barely brushed the ground. it wasn’t strangling, but the way he glared down at you promised violence.

your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you, rage palpable as his claws created puncture holes in your suit.

but you trudged on. you had repressed these thoughts for too long.

“miguel, you can’t lock me in a tower and call it love.”

all at once, the rage faded, and the grip on your collar ceased.

you dropped to the floor, wheezing. but a web hit your chest, easing you down. you followed its trail back to the owner.

hobie brown stood in the entrance way to miguel’s office, looking livid. but he said nothing.

that was always the wonderful thing about hobie. he knew when to wait for your signal.

“listen to me very carefully, kid. you will go home, now. you will get the fuck out of this demension as soon as this conversation is over, and you will stay out of it until further notice.” miguel growled, looking down at you.

“you will not be called on any missions, and you will not respond to any invitations to help.” he looked pointedly at hobie. “if you do, i will take your watch and drag you back to your dimension myself. am i understood?”

you looked at him from the ground, frustrated tears in your eyes. there was no way out.

“yes sir.”

you got up and walked out of the office.

₊ ⊹

hobie followed you, keeping pace with your limping step.

“are you really gonna listen to that prick?” he asked, glaring at some nosy spiders that stared. “he’s a fucking idiot if he thinks your gonna stop-“

“i am going to, hobie. i’m going home.” you told him, and the spider-punk paused.

“you saw how he looked at me. do you think he’s going to be kind when he finds me swinging with you or pav with anomalies? you think he won’t drag me back?” you knew miguel well. and you knew his resolve.

he wouldn’t hesitate to take your watch. he wouldn’t hesitate to confine you to your own reality, never to see him or your friends again.

all for the sake of protecting you.

‘you could have died.’

“you said your parents are gone, right?” hobie asked, and you stopped walking at the audacity of that question. when you turned to him, he raised his hands up to show you he meant no harm.

“i just don’t think you should be alone right now. come crash in my flat. we’ll find something to do other than wallow in our own misery, ay?”

you deflated, wanting nothing more than to sink into hobie’s embrace. and you did, allowing him to pull you close as the tears you were holding back finally escaped your eyes, leaking onto hobie’s blue shirt, mixing with the blood that stained it from your nose.

he tapped his watch to open another portal, and you spared one last glance towards the direction of miguel’s office before you stepped through it.

masterlists | part iv

so…like i said…it does get worse in the next chapter. i hope that you all liked this one ♡. stay tuned…

“lo siento, pequeña. no quise hacerlo, va a estar bien. mierda chica, lo siento mucho. - i’m sorry, little one. i didn’t mean to do it, it’s going to be ok. shit kid, i’m so sorry.

taglist:

@pearlssdiary @zeyzeys-stuff @alexisabirdie @ifuckyourmom @hagdgishbr @migueloharaslxt @ladynecromancer @ladyfairenvale

[inky-squid-art]

just finished watching spider-man 3 for possibly the first time? or at least, the first time since i was really young. um. harry osborn is my blorbo and nothing bad ever happens to him.

[gejo333]

Jealousy II

Miguel O’Hara x Spider Woman Reader

Pt. 1

Summary: How did you and Miguel meet? What was your relationship like before you got together?

Hi everyone! I’m sorry I didn’t post yesterday. It’s extremely hot where I live and I wasn’t feeling well yesterday. But I promise to get all three stories out before Monday.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy💕

Wc: 2.9k

____________________________________________

A painful groan escapes from your lips as you are slammed against a concrete building trapped beneath your world's green goblin. You tried to push yourself out of his grip, but your body was too tired to break away.

"You are so pathetic. You don't deserve to protect this city. You should just die by my hand right now and save yourself from further embarrassment." He throws his arm back about to throw his final blow against your head. Your breath shallow, you tiredly close your eyes waiting for the impact.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the impact. A loud noise echoed in your ears, your eyes widened as you witness the world split and opened some reddish portal. A red web shoots out from the portal, holding the Green Goblin's fist in place.

"What is-" the Green Goblin questioned before a large blue and red figure appeared from the portal and threw the green goblin off of you. The lenses of your mask widen when they meet the lenses of a similar mask before the strange figure slammed the green goblin to the floor.

Now free, you shoot your web out and swing yourself where the two crashed. Landing near it, you wait until the dust and debris settles. The same blue and red figure rose from the ground. Your gaze scans up the man's form, stretching his back muscles as he rises to his full height. You noticed a weird gizmo on his wrist as your gaze moved to his hands as his fingers revealed large claws.

"Who are you?" You ask the strange man who turns his head.

"That's classified." His lenses narrow as they stare straight at you.

"Ok Mr. Bond. You came out of thin air. I think I have some right to ask. Are you a villain?"

"No."

"A lunatic in a suit?"

"No, I'm-"

"Mr. Doomsday?" You chuckle when you notice him becoming frustrated.

"No, stop. I'm from another dimension." He turns to face you.

"You still didn't answer my question." You chuckle as you cross your arms as you lean into your hip.

"My name is Miguel O'Hara, I lead an alert strike force dedicated-" Disinterested in hearing his long, obviously rehearsed, speech you walk past him towards the passed out Green Goblin. Miguel turns around to watch your figure head towards the villain as you try to pick up the large figure but struggle to lift him. Miguel smirks under his mask, never once had he met someone who didn’t fear him. He walks over to you as he lifts the unconscious villain with ease and throws them over his shoulder before he begins to make his way towards the exit.

“I can handle defeating my own villains, thank you.” You huff as you quickly move in front of him, stopping him from walking as you wait for him to drop the villain and leave.

“You can barely stand yourself. So I doubt you could carry this guy.” Miguel let out a chuckle as he looked down at you. Why was this one spider woman gaining his interest so much? Besides Jess, many spider women and spidermen stuttered in his presence. Usually he always ignored the advances of many, when he wasn’t in the mood, which was the majority of time. He didn’t know what it was, but Miguel knew he didn’t want to leave your universe just yet.

“Try me.” Your eyes lenses narrowed. Even with a mask on you could tell he was being smug with you.

“Alright.” Miguel said as he handed you over the Green Goblin like he was a sack of potatoes. Caught by surprise you quickly try to put all your strength in carrying the figure. However, your fatigued body was fighting against you. After a few seconds of struggling Miguel lifted the villain and threw him over his shoulder again.

“I was right. As usual.” Miguel said as he stepped aside to walk around you.

“God, you're suffocating.” You mumbled as you walked with him outside of the building where the police and reporters had arrived. When you both stepped out lights of cameras flashed in your face as a few officers came up as Miguel dropped the Green Goblin into their custody. The police captain walked up to you.

“Nice work again Spiderwoman. Who is your companion?”

“No one. Just some pesky fly passing through.”

“A pesky fly?” Miguel’s eye lenses narrowed at you, not sure whether to chuckle or be insulted by your comment. After you finished talking to the police captain you shot your web out leaving the tall brooding figure behind you.

After swinging for a few minutes you land on the roof of your apartment building. Making sure no one can see you, you take off your mask as you inhale the fresh air around you, sick of the smell of sweat lingering in your mask. You turn around in surprise as you hear someone land on the roof from behind you. You roll your eyes when you see it was the same man as person.

“Miguel was it?” You arch your eyebrow as you briefly glance over his form.

“Yes.”

“Why are you following me? Also, what’s with the costume? I enjoy the fans who cosplay me but this is going a bit too far don’t you think?” You walk up to him as you greatly poke his chest but find that when your finger touches his suit, a small digital glitch appears where you poked him. Your cheeks lightly dusted a light shade of pink as you realized you were touching his bare chest. You took a step back and placed your hand down, making the suit go back to normal.

“How…”

“Like I was saying earlier back at the scene, I'm from a different dimension. In my dimension I’m Spiderman. There are an infinite amount of dimensions with their own version of spidersona. I created an elite strike force that is dedicated to protecting the multiverse and I want you to join.”

“You want me to be a part of your little squad?” You chuckle.

“It’s not a little squad. It’s an elite strike force.” Miguel argued, becoming frustrated by your humor. Your smile vanishes as you turn serious.

“Why me? If you saw there are an infinite amount of other spiders out there. Why did you choose me?”

“You have the potential to become one of the best spiders in the multiverse. With training you’ll get there in no time.”

“And by who? You?” You smile from your remark. If only you could see the reaction you were getting out of him behind his mask. You think for a moment if you should agree to his offer. It definitely was an enticing one.

“Well?” Miguel asked, beginning to grow impatient for you to answer. You let out a small chuckle as you smile, showing your dimples.

“Sure why not. How often do you have an opportunity like this one?”

…..

You huffed out loud, chest raising faster than usual as you sprawled out on the ground of Spider HQ training arena.

Three months of intense training with Miguel have been grueling. Waking up in the early morning and training until the sun had set long ago. For three months your body has been sore. You had to admit you were in the shape of your life and your skills had improved significantly. A large shadow blocked you from the irritating iridescent lights from above.

“Get up.” Miguel’s gruff voice echoed in the empty training center. When the both of you were training he didn’t open it for the rest of Spider HQ. Of course he opened two days out of the week for the rest of Spider society giving you a break. Until he deems you 100% ready, this will be your schedule for the foreseeable future.

“I can’t. My body is too sore to move. Leave me be.”

Miguel rolled his eyes as a small smile displayed on his lips from your dramatic attitude. He bent down and lifted you, carrying you bridal style to the nearest seat before setting you down gently. Your cheeks dusted red as your eyes met his soft brown gaze before looking away. Only you saw his natural eye color. When you first saw it about a month ago your heart went out of rhythm for a moment. Just like it was now.

“Um, thanks.”

“Of course, hermosa.”

“You know I don’t understand Spanish. I wish you would tell me what silly and probably degrading nickname you call me.”

“No can do.” Miguel chuckled as he saw the pout form on your lips.

“Well, maybe I can convince you to teach me.” You smile as you throw a towel at him, which he catches easily. He takes it and wipes the sweat away from his face before putting it over his bare shoulder.

“Maybe I will. If you don’t whine during training when you get tired.”

“No promises.” You grin up at him as you try to stand up but wince. You go to your dimensional watch as you press a few buttons to open a portal back to your world. “I’m taking tomorrow off.”

“What for?” Miguel’s brow knit together in confusion. This was the first time you had asked for the day off. He didn’t mind. But he was curious about your reason for asking to skip training.

“I have a date.” You look at him as you bite your lower lip as a nervous habit.

“A date?” Miguel's usual frown appeared on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest unknowingly flexing his biceps, which you happen to glance at.

“Yeah…met him at a coffee shop last week. I had a nice conversation with him and he asked me out to dinner.” You stop talking about it as you feel Miguel tense up when you begin to mention it.

“I have to go back to my office. Don’t be late to training the day after tomorrow.” Miguel ordered you, in his normal tone. He usually was nicer to you. Warm even. Without saying another word he began to walk away.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” You move in front of him, stopping him from leaving. You lightly glare up at him as he looks down at you with his infamous frown. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, I’m sorry, Hermosa. I do have work to attend to. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.” He smiled slightly, gently putting his hand on your shoulder before gently moving you to the side and leaving. He couldn’t have you near him when he was angry. Of course it wasn’t his normal anger. He was angry that you were going to spend time with another man besides him. Yes, you weren’t his wife or girlfriend. But it still irked him greatly. He wanted you for himself.

As you watched him leave the training center your heart ached. Maybe going on this date is a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything to him. You fear that you might have broken something beautiful that was being built between you and Miguel over the past months. Or maybe it was only you feeling this way. Maybe it wasn’t mutual.

You walk through the portal to your dimension as you lay awake in your bed thinking about only one thing.

Miguel.

You spent your entire day off resting in bed to help soothe your sore body before your date. As the hours ticked by closer to your date the worse the nerves in your stomach became. Not because of your upcoming date but because your gut was telling you to not go on the date. That it was a mistake.

“Thank you for a nice dinner.” You say to the man next to you as you walk out of the restaurant.

“Of course. I had a nice time. We should do it again sometime.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks tinted red.

“Y-yeah. We should.” You smile at him. He was nice and a perfect gentleman. And he was cute. Not at the level of Miguel, but not bad. As you both ear back to your apartment you feel your watch vibrate non stop. It was always Miguel when you checked the caller ID. But you knew it wasn’t an emergency so you decided to ignore him.

As you made it to your apartment your eyes widened when you saw Miguel, in casual clothing leaning against your door, waiting for you. When he noticed you walking down the hallway you stood up straight, his gaze moving from your to the man walking next to you.

“Are you…” your date asked as you shook your head no.

“No, he's just my friend.” You say as you send Miguel a light glare. “Why are you here Miguel?”

“Came to check in on you. I wanted to make sure you weren't with a creep. Still unsure.” Miguel crossed his arms across his chest as he stared down at the man next to you. Your date was only a few inches taller than you, which made Miguel look like a tower.

“Hey man, let’s not go down this road. We were having a good time until you showed up.” Your date said as he took a few steps towards Miguel. Of course the intimidation tactic instantly failed him. Maybe with anyone else. Anyone else except Miguel.

“Well, your time with her is over now and she won’t be seeing you again. So leave.” Miguel took a step closer as he glared down at the man. You walked up to Miguel as you placed your hand on his upper arm.

“The date was lovely but I think it’s time I say good night.” You smile at your date who frowns when he realizes you chose Miguel over him before he left. You lightly slapped Miguel’s arm when you noticed the smirk on his face. His grin remained on his lips as he looked at you. It was hard to stay mad at him and hide your smile when he looked at you like that.

You noticed his eyes fog into a lustful gaze as he turns his full body towards you and wraps his arms around your waist pulling you against his chest.

“You deserve a better man than him, hermosa.”

“Do you have a clue who that man is?” Your grin as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I can give you a clue.” His grin widened as he took your chin, leaning down as his lips captured yours. A spark shot through your body up to your heart as you felt it glow. It wasn’t the only thing glowing in excitement as the kiss became hotter.

You quickly made your way into your apartment having a difficult time leaving each other’s lips on the other. Miguel grabbed your ass asking for you to wrap your legs around your waist, which you happily obliged as he made his way to your bedroom. His lips went from your lips to your neck as he laid you on the bed, hovering over you.

He stripped your clothing followed by his as his mouth left marks across your bare body. Miguel's mouth move back up from your chest to your neck as his lips reached your ear, whispering, “ You might be sore tomorrow morning, mi amor.”

…

Present Day

You were standing in the training room watching your mentee practice her different swinging techniques. The day began to leave as the sun left the sky. You looked at your watch and exactly on cue you got a message from your loving boyfriend saying he was finished with work.

“Ok that's it for today. Will continue training tomorrow.”

“Wait, we’ve only been training for three hours. I want to learn how to swing across upside down.” pouted Gwen.

“I’m sorry Gwen. But I have to give my attention now to Mr. Grump or he’ll begin to whine.” You chuckle.

As on cue Miguel walks up to you and Gwen followed by Hobie. Miguel smirks down at you, placing his hand on your lower back as he leans down to whisper something suggestive in your ear, making your cheeks blush followed by a small giggle escaping from your lips. You then wave goodbye to everyone before Miguel guides you back to his quarters.

“What did she mean by ‘Miguel needs her attention?’” Gwen asked, confused. Hobie grinned as he leaned down to whisper in her ear what you meant. Of course as soon as the words reached Gwen’s ear, her face turned cherry red as she covered her face with her hands. Hobie burst out in laughter holding his sides, as Gwen's reaction to his words was too cute and hilarious.

…

“I missed you, mi amor.” Miguel plants a kiss to your cheek as he leads you back to his quarters.

“Mig, you saw me this morning. But I missed you too.” You lean your head against his arm as you hold his hand.

Miguel opens the door to his quarters as he lets you in first. You gasp when you see a romantic set up displayed in the dining room.

“Happy first anniversary.” Miguel wrapped his arms from behind as he kissed your neck.

“Aw Mig, this is gorgeous. I love it, thank you. I can’t believe it’s been a year already. An amazing year. I’m glad you dragged my stubborn self here.” You turn around and kiss him, which he happily returned.

You were taken slightly by surprise when Miguel picked you up bridal style. The grin on your face widens when you notice the trail of rises leading to the bedroom.

“Now let me give you your second anniversary gift. I think you’ll love this one more.”

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this long awaited sequel🥰

[spectrechosts]

Johanna II

More elf ear stuff. Stuck-up wizard has a milf moment.

Johanna knew that this was a phase.

Little wizard on her first adventure, fresh out the college, thinks she's the hottest shit the unwashed masses have ever seen. Doesn't yet understand the value of things like a frontline or not being reliant on mana.

It's fine. Johanna's seen it a million times. She'll learn.

"I mean really, why do we even need a knight?" The haughty elf (Myrrae? Nerah? Oh, whatever. The priest knows.) drawled. "Swinging a sword around like a maniac, it's barbaric."

Going to be fucking annoying until she did, though.

"Mind your tongue, Neria." Said the priest. (Neria. Right.) "Johanna's been getting us out of scrapes since before you could cast cantrips."

"I could cast cantrips at four." Countered the elf, smugly.

That would be what, twenty years ago? She might have already known the priest, it was hard to remember.

"Since before you figured out you could mage hand yourself, then." Added their rogue. The priest rapped her on the head with her staff.

("Don't speak that way to our new partymember, Gristle.")

("What? Everyone does it, boss.")

"Right, well, you have me now." Neria said, ears tinged red. "I hardly think her presence is required, and I'd rather split the take three ways than four."

"She makes a valid point." Said Johanna, a lazy smirk on her lips. "All in favour of ditching the wizard and splitting her cut?"

Gristle raised her tiny green hand in the air, and the priest rolled her eyes. "We ditch no one." She said.

"Shame." The goblin said. "Got a new dagger I been eyin'."

~

Johanna stood, knee deep in charred corpses, and smouldered at the elf.

Literally smouldered, because Neria had apparently thought it appropriate to launch a fireball into the crowd that Johanna was a part of.

"I uh, I think we should check behind us, make sure we aren't getting flanked, boss." Said Gristle, eager to not be in the room for what was about to happen.

"Shouldn't I heal-"

"You can heal her when we get back. Go."

The rogue swiftly backtracked out of the dungeon chamber, dragging the priest along with her. Johanna sheathed her sword and stomped toward the wizard, furious.

"L-Look, you would have gotten hurt by the cultists anywAAAAAAIE-"

Johanna grabbed her and slammed her into the wall, pinning her neck with her forearm.

"Would I have?" She hissed, her lungs still stinging from the acrid smoke.

"Y-Yes!" The elf squealed.

"And what, pray tell, do you think I would do to them for attacking me?"

"Look, you're fine-" The elf bargained, trying and failing to break the pin.

"I am fine." Johanna seethed. "You, however, are in fucking peril." She drew a knife from her belt and drove it into the soft mortar of the dungeon wall beside Neria's head for emphasis, making the elf flinch.

"It was the fastest way, it's not a big deal-" She whined.

"Not a big deal?" Johanna asked, incredulous. Her still smoking eyebrows begged to differ. She grabbed one of the elf's ears and pulled it taut. "Are you fucking deaf, you idiot girl? I've killed for less. Why-"

"A-Aahn~"

Johanna blinked, stunned. What the fuck.

"Are you fucking enjoying this?" She asked, squeezing the tip of her ear, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger.

"N-Nuuhhh~" The elf moaned, squirming. Her face was flushed and her eyes shut tight as she tried to pull her head away.

Now Johanna was blushing too. This- This was weird.

But the elf was admittedly rather-

No! No. Johanna was mad at her. Hated her. Focus.

The elf was looking at her, unfocused eyes half lidded with pleasure. "M-More…"

She could feel blood rushing to her-

NOPE. The girl had to be almost young enough to be her daughter, for fucks sake. Not doing this. Whatever the fuck this was.

She let go of the elf and took a step back. Jutted an accusatory finger at her. "You-" She had completely lost her train of thought. Her threats were clearly not having the intended effect, and honestly she wasn't feeling that mad anymore. Just… confused. "You don't fucking do that again, you hear?"

The elf nodded, her eyes glued to the floor.

"Go get the others back in here." She ordered, and the elf started to leave.

She paused halfway to the door.

"Can, can we um, talk later? About-"

No.

"Later." She said tersely.

Fuck.

~

Johanna nursed her mug of ale until only her and Neria remained at the tavern table.

The elf couldn't look her in the eye. She'd like to think the shame stemmed from blowing her up earlier, but it probably didn't. Well, she was in no hurry. Let the fool girl stew in it.

They sat alone for nearly ten minutes before she finally spoke up.

"Shall we talk about… today?" The elf asked, ears drooping out of embarrassment.

"Have something you want to say to me, oh mighty wizard?" Johanna answered, feigning disinterest. "I'm all ears."

Johanna could be mean, it was practically her day job. You don't make knight captain without a healthy capacity for condescension and a deep well of insults. If the elf wanted it though, she had to earn it.

"I, you said we could talk, about- you know. Remember?"

"I remember someone lighting me on fire."

"R-Right, but then after that-"

"No, I think I'd like to talk about that."

The elf withered under her disdainful gaze.

"W-Well, as I tried to explain to you-" She stuttered, and Johanna sighed.

"You can explain all night girl, I don't rightly care."

Neria shut up, and they sat together in silence once more.

"I…" She said, after some amount of thought. "Am sorry. I was wrong to cast a fireball on you, even if it was the fastest and easiest way."

It was good enough, Johanna supposed.

"You think you're sorry now, I'll show you sorry. With me, elf." She said, as she got up and left for her room.

The elf had barely closed the door behind her before Johanna swung her around and pinned her to the wall by the neck again.

"Now, where were we?" She asked, pinching the elf's ear again and husking into it. "I think, you were begging like a whore."

Neria was red in the face, already squirming. "I-I'm not a-"

"Yes you are." Johanna said, pulling harder and making the elf interrupt herself with a shaky moan. "You're an idiot whore that needs to be put in her place. Isn't that right?"

"Ye-yesss…" Neria whimpered, her hand dipping below the hem of her dress.

"No touching." Johanna growled. "Your hands stay at your sides, or I stop."

She obeyed, arms rigid and hands balled into shaking fists. Johanna let go of her ear and hiked up the elf's dress, forcing her knee between her legs, pressing her thigh into the wet spot forming on her underwear.

"You're already soaked and I've barely touched you. Are you so desperate?" Johanna asked, and received no answer. She took the tip of the elf's ear in between her fingers again and pinched it tight, pressing her lips to the base and whispering: "You will speak when spoken to, slut."

The elf nodded.

"That isn't speaking, imbecile." She hissed.

"Yes yes I'm your desperate whore whatever you want fuck-"

"That's right." Johanna said, removing her arm from the wizard's throat and hooking a thumb into her mouth. "You're an idiot wizard who's getting what she deserves, right?" She asked, punctuating it by grinding her thigh into her harder and tugging her ear again.

"Y-Y-Yeshh…"

The elf was breathing hard, her whines were growing in pitch, and Johanna gasped mockingly as realization hit her.

"Ohhh slut, are you really going to cum from this? Just from me being mean to you?" She asked, voice dripping with venom.

Neria went redder than she thought was possible.

"N-Nuhhh-" She whined, trying to squirm away.

"I think you aaare." Johanna said teasingly, tightening her grip. "Fight it, whore."

The elf scrunched her eyes shut, her one free ear twitching uncontrollably as her breath hitched and she gurgled around the knight's thumb.

"C-Cahnt- fhuhh- oh ghod-"

"Fiiiiight it. You can't be this pathetic."

"OhgogohghghodfffffUAAH-"

Johanna watched, feigning boredom, as the wizard shook and spasmed through her climax. She noticed Neria kept her hands balled at her sides through it, maybe she wasn't a total lost cause. She withdrew her leg, released her grip, let the elf slowly slide down the wall and settle onto her knees.

The elf panted for a minute before wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth and getting up on shaky legs.

"G…Good talk. I'm glad we could, resolve that amicably, a-as professionals." She said, as she opened the door to leave. "I, I would quite like to work with you again, I think."

"Elf?"

"Y…Yeah?"

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."

"O-Oh."

[hellomystraightlacedfriend]

Harry Osborn/Green Goblin II & Dmitri Smerdyakov/The Chameleon

[asterthought]

This is what happens when I reintroduce myself into a Hijack brainrot while I'm still in the Parksborn one.

I kinda got inspired by @sboochi 's ROTBTD Spider-verse AU

THIS WAS SUCH A RANDOM IDEA BUT PLEASE HEAR ME OUT!

Rise of the brave tangled dragons x Spider-Man AU where Hiccup is in Peter Parker's place meaning he got bitten by the spider and turned into a superhuman. Jack, even being his best friend, doesn't know about it.

They're both in college, Hiccup is in some STEM major, Jack is in arts, but they're roomates. Jack visits Hiccup often at his lab but one day he ends up messing with an experiment that was using pure liquid nitrogen. The accident gives Jack not only terrible frostbites in his face, hands and basically everywhere else, but also gives him the ICONIC ice powers.

I was planning to make it a little more simple by making Jack just be the Green Goblin (II) to keep him close to being the Harry Osborn of the story, but I decided to make him a slightly more original "villain" by giving him a backstory related with his actual powers. Anyway, you can see I also took inspo from Dane's Green Goblin for the very simple desing I made-

[oliveroctavius]

How do you think the Peter/Harry plays out in the universe where Gwen is the one bitten by the spider and not Peter?

Maybe you wanted me to theorize on their 616 selves, but I see @theopolis already did that for me.

If you mean Spider-Gwen's universe? That's kinda hard to say. Peter's death happens before the comic even starts. (IMO that's a bit of a problem with Earth-65; some of the most interesting differences we only ever see in quick recaps and flashbacks!)

I think this is largely forgotten, but Peter's prom rampage started out of jealousy towards Harry. Partly because Harry tried to ask Gwen to prom, but it's more than that.

A large difference here is that Norman was never the Green Goblin. Norman still sucks a bit from what little we see of him, but he's not the violently domineering misogynist of 616. So Harry is rather more well-adjusted, and the Harry/Peter dynamic is almost inverted. Peter is bitter and people-pleasing and trying, by hook or crook or serum, to prove himself. And while Harry is a deeply lonely person, he has a certain level of self-worth that Peter struggles with.

But watching Peter die does a number on him.

In a weird way, Peter is the Norman figure for Earth-65 Harry. In the shadow of Peter's death, he develops confused feelings of believing that someone he loved deeply died hating him, resenting himself for having been too frightened and weak to act and protect him, and eventually dosing himself with Peter's Lizard serum in order to be strong enough to fight Spider-Woman. He even talks about himself as an extension of Peter:

It's an intense relationship, but only briefly explored, from my admittedly limited Spider-Gwen knowledge. (All these panels are from Spider-Gwen II #1-6.) And a lot of the changes are ultimately due to other ripple effects than simply who got bitten by a spider. Spider-Gwen being a multiversal character from the start, the civilians of her world don't quite get their due.

[comiicii]

Hummingbird II

Backdrop: You and Miles have been best friends since you were babies. Doesn't mean that the friendship never faced hardships. Pairing: e!1610 Miles Morales x fem!spider!reader Warnings: none, probably some grammar errors and my attempt at fluff with the characters. y'know before the inevitable has to happen A's notes: apologies for this not coming out sooner. also, i don't think i clarified in the first chapter that reader is also hispanic. i'll be sprinkling in some spanish words moving forward. if you'd like to be tagged, do let me know in the comments. Translations: a comer = time to eat | amiga = friend (feminine) | mi vida = my life, darling, dear etc. | lo adoro = i adore/love it Word count: 2.5k PREVIOUS | NEXT

After that, you brought up the subject every now and then. You had spotted on his notebook once a quick doodle of you swinging around. It was from a clip he’d seen on the news and thought it was cool. When Araña was brought up, Miles never had anything but good things to say. Always commenting on how cool she looked on a video he’d seen of her stopping robbers or the one time he heard her speak Spanish to an older woman as she was helping cross the street. His words were indirectly helping you to keep going.

You tried harder to salvage the friendship you had with him as you came up on two years of fighting alongside Peter. You had more study sessions together (which you were still sometimes late to) and you did your best to keep him involved in your life.

The study sessions that the two of you had were also becoming more frequent as you were gearing up for entry exams for Brooklyn Visions Academy. If you did well on the exam, you would be entered into a lottery that could land you the opportunity to attend the school. You were naturally academically gifted - didn’t mean you never studied, though. You knew that this could be great for your future. You wanted to make a difference in the world and while Brooklyn Middle had great programs, BVA would be a step in the right direction to get you where you wanted to be for college. Two students would be selected from the lottery after the school year ended.

You and Miles alternated study session locations; the last one being at his place before the entry exam. Mrs. Morales adored having you in her home. She was worried when you didn’t stop by as much; going as far as to ask your father about your well-being (he claimed you were going through puberty and all that ‘teenage angst’). Mr. Morales breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed you and Miles were studying together again; he always thought of you as a good influence on his son. You complimented him in areas where he wasn’t the best and knew him a lot better than they would these days.

The two of you had been studying for the last few hours and you had informed your family that you would be eating dinner at Miles’. Peter also knew that this was an important time for you and let you have the night to study, rest and enjoy your time with Miles.

“I think I’m going to pass out if I have to look at another page of equations.” you groaned on his bed, falling back onto the pillows. Miles could only laugh on the floor, agreeing with your statement completely.

“¡A comer!” Mrs. Morales yelled from the kitchen. You silently thanked the heavens for her impeccable timing.

As you two set the table, the TV flashed to a picture of Spider-Man and ‘Spider-Girl’, reporting on an update of the Green Goblin you two had thwarted the previous night. You didn’t pay much attention to it once you heard them refer to you as Spider-Girl. Oh, how you dreaded them calling you that.

“It’s terrible that he’s gotten a young girl believing that she can just swing in and not take responsibility for her actions!” Mr. Morales hollered at the screen as he helped bring the food to the table.

Miles rolled his eyes at his father, never really agreeing with his dad’s opinions on the superhero. He mumbled under his breath about how he didn’t understand. You quietly chuckled at his statement. He was a cop after all. What you and Peter were doing was helping but technically illegal.

The conversation was quickly squashed before it even started by Rio when she looked at Jeff with a look. She didn’t want to hear any talk about work or superheroes at the table. Dinner was spent eating and catching up with the family that hadn’t consistently seen you in a while. Rio had expressed that you could talk to her if you were going through something, appreciating how much she cared about you like you were her daughter. She always looked out for you. Jeff had asked the two of you about studying for the entry exams. You had shown more enthusiasm for the opportunity to study at BVA more so than Miles. Before the two of them could get into it, you mentioned how much you appreciated Miles helping you study. You knew how hard his father could be, despite meaning well. You always tried to make Miles look good in front of his parents to spare him. Miles bumped his knee with yours under the table as a ‘thank you’. It seemed like the two of you were getting back into the swing of things like before. That night, you ended up sleeping over for the first time in a little over a year. It warmed your heart knowing that your friendship with Miles was settling back to the way it was.

When you were chosen in the lottery with Miles to go to BVA, you couldn’t be happier. You felt as if it was a sign that life wasn’t going be terrible. It signaled to you that you could handle your school and spider-life. Or so you believed.

After you turned 14, you had begun pestering Peter to start trusting you to tag along with him to fight more of the big bad guys he was always on the news about fighting. He didn’t want you messing with the ‘big leagues’ yet as he was worried about your safety. 14 still meant you were a kid, after all. Even if you were 21, Peter would’ve still been hesitant. Last thing he needed was to further traumatize you or possibly get you killed. It wasn’t until you bothered him beyond belief and pinky swore that you’d get out if it got too dangerous. It meant that you’d leave Peter to fight for himself if it got to be too risky to keep you safe. You and Peter both had families that cared about you but his family wasn’t in the dark about the crime-fighting. He’d rather risk himself than have to explain to your family why he couldn’t keep you safe.

Meanwhile, Miles didn’t enjoy being at BVA. He quite loathed it. While he had you there with him, your schedules weren’t the same; three classes in total you had together. The school load was also stressful and it felt as though he didn’t belong. Didn’t mean that you weren’t stressed either. You were practically drowning in your own thoughts of your future on top of the work load from school and your spider duties. You were barely getting any sleep and had debated on letting a few classes suffer for the sake of lessening the stress of your life. You just seemed to have a better way of hiding your stress than Miles - something he commented on when he realized that you were just as stressed but didn’t show it. Thankfully the two of you had lunch together to connect and stress together. It hurt to see that your best friend didn’t see himself fitting into the school. You always told him to give the school a shot because maybe, just maybe, he may like it. He often wished to be back at Brooklyn Middle. He described the school as ‘elitist’ and that neither him or you belonged because it was always going to be you two against the world.

It was a saying the two of you bonded over - especially since it was the name of one of your favorite songs. You had originally voiced the phrase when you were both 10. Already feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Miles knew that your home life wasn’t always peaceful and that you took on more than you should’ve, emotionally speaking, for a 10-year-old. Miles always did his best to let you know that he was there for you. Whenever your family stressed you out, you would find yourself on the roof of his building, staring at the sunset, waiting for the sky to turn navy. You two had managed to keep a giant sleeping bag stashed there to lay on and go under when the nights turned cold. It was your own private hiding spot from the world. On particularly stressful days, one or both of you would bring food to eat your feelings.

“Hey Miles,” you turned your head to look at the boy who had just listened to you ramble about what was going on in your headspace for the last 30 minutes.

“Yeah, Y/N?” he kept looking up at the sky.

“Are you scared of the future? What may happen to us?”

“Yes and no,” he chuckled, finally turning to look at you, a small smile creeping in.

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause, you and I are bound to change and yeah, I’m scared that you won’t want to hang around me at some point buuut,”

“But?”

“I’m also sure that you and I will always be in each other’s lives - can’t get rid of me that easily, Y/N.” he reached over to tickle your side, earning you a laugh as music softly played along with the natural sounds of Brooklyn. Your favorite, 2pac’s ‘Me Against The World’ started playing in the air.

“It’ll be us against the world”

“Always, amiga”

You smiled across the table at the memory. You knew that he could succeed in BVA. He didn’t get lucky, both of you deserved to be here. You didn’t want him to quit when there was a possibility for him to do great things and prove himself to all the other snobs that he was just as smart, if not, smarter than all of them.

“C’mon Miles, you’ve barely given it two weeks,” you started as you played with the food in front of you.

“Now you’re starting to sound like my dad,” he groaned. The comparison stung a bit but you kept your face neutral.

“Y’know you deserve to be here just as much as these other richy-rich kids” you started, not wanting your frustrations to shine through.

“Y/N, if I flunk a couple more tests, they’re sure to kick me out and back to Brooklyn Middle,” he was growing frustrated at not being understood, “all our friends are there.”

“Your friends are there, Miles. Not mine…not anymore.” you were now getting a jump start on an assignment, trying to distract yourself from the loss of a few friends because of your crime fighting. It was a painful reminder of how quickly people were willing to let you go.

“Y/N, I don’t know why you want to stay here so ba-“

“Because I care about my future Miles,” now you were yelling, “you’re not the only one who has had to sacrifice so much to get here!” a few sets of eyes were staring at you and Miles. Not wanting to make more of a scene, you grabbed your belongings and walked out on your best friend who sat there hurt and embarrassed for the second time since arriving at the school (the first being when his dad dropped him off at the beginning of the week).

You didn’t speak to Miles for the remainder of the day. You didn’t mean to yell but you knew what you needed was to patrol with Peter to get away from your schoolwork and all your other stress. It was good that you lucked out and didn’t get a roommate. Well, you did for two days and then she was gone - you don’t know if she couldn’t handle the pressure or something else had happened.

“Tough day at school today?” Peter started from your dorm window.

“Don’t wanna talk about it, Pete.” you grumbled as you pulled your mask on.

He didn’t bring it up for the rest of the night.

The following day, you had run late to your first class and tried multitasking during classes. By the time lunch rolled around, you and Miles still sat together, just didn’t say a word. He was listening to music as he ate while you worked and ate. You know Peter would’ve laughed if he saw the two of you. You were both mad at each other but you were still sitting together eating lunch. It was a testament to your friendship. The two of you could argue and yell at each other but like you both had said various times, you couldn’t get rid of the other easily. It would take a lot to leave each other. You knew in your heart of hearts that you could never leave Miles, no matter what he did. You loved the boy so much and considered him a lifeline. If you cut that, you don’t think you’d survive the world. Miles felt about the same. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the two of you would be in each other’s lives forever; even through the ups and downs of life.

You had your final class of the day with Miles. It was an English Literature class and you had been assigned a personal assignment that your teacher decided was a good way to get to know the students. You were allowed to work alongside a partner for the remainder of class to brainstorm and start the assignment. Quietly, you and Miles made your way to each other, sitting in the back corner of the room on the floor. Miles had taken out his sketchbook to start brainstorming some ideas for how he could title his paper. You had forgotten your sketchbook in your locker. Regardless, you weren’t as skilled as Miles when it came to art. You mainly did little doodles in the margins of your notebooks. Which is why Miles referred to your sketchbook as a ‘doodle book’.

“I’m sorry for losing my cool with you, Miles” You bumped your shoulder with his as you aimlessly doodled on your notepad.

“Don’t worry about it, mi vida.” he was already writing something out on a page that had a few drawings. One that particularly stood out was a side profile of Araña. “I know how hard you worked to be here and I’m more than happy to have you here with me.” he smiled as he continued sketching.

“What’re you going to title your essay?” you rested your head on his shoulder, a natural position the two of you were often seen in.

“I’m not sure yet but I thought of one for yours,” he mindlessly spoke, his attention on getting the design just right for you, “if you like it, of course.”

Your eyes started focusing on the word he had spelled out, the lettering he kept simple, almost delicate.

“Hummingbird?” you eyed him, brows furrowed.

“Yeah…I read somewhere that they bring good luck if you’re visited by one,” he stated as he continued detailing around the lettering, “I think it suits you.” he sheepishly smiled.

You couldn’t help but smile and placed a quick peck on his cheek, “I don’t like it, Miles.” you state with a smile on your lips as you bring your focus back to your notepad.

“Lo adoro”