#spider bread crumbs

[jihef03]

Starting to feel like Robbie has been sidelined a lot on Spider-Man content

[pettygods]

hello. i successfully made a sourdough loaf today and i think that’s quite neat

[wordsarelife]

"why are you always flirting in near death situations?" With Mattheo and bestie reader or girlfriend reader please. I love your imagined so much and this is my first time requesting 🥺

—willow

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo has a brilliant idea for a date.. not

warnings: mentions of sex, a bit suggestive but no actual smut

notes: this was so fun to write anon, thank you!! please send more of these asks in the future! at the moment i mostly enjoy writing for mattheo or theo (or theo and belle -> from my fic call it what you want)

"this was the stupidest idea ever" you mumbled walking next to mattheo "you really outdid yourself this time"

"isn't it romantic?" he gestured in the air around you

you looked around confused "horrifying is more the word i would use"

"don't be so negative all the time" mattheo outstretched his arm and intertwined your fingers "this is the perfect spot for a quickie" he smirked

"you disgust me" you rolled your eyes, while still watching around you uncertain. mattheo had dragged you outside for a walk. in the forbidden forest. at night. "you really are pushing your luck"

"ahh" mattheo almost made a noise that sounded like a giggle "you wouldn't leave me"

"go on with that behaviour and you'll find out" you smiled sarcastically. mattheo relaxed when you squeezed his hand "can we please go back now?" you muttered

"are you scared?" mattheo laughed

"of course not" you shook your head "i just don't want to explain why my boyfriend disappeared"

"are you planning to murder me?"

"no body, no crime" you shrugged

"yeah.." mattheo trailed off and you grew suspicious

"matty?" you asked

"huh?"

"you do know where we are... right?"

"pfff" mattheo looked behind you "of course" he raised his arm to point in a general direction "there's that thing back there"

"you have no idea" you sighed, more to yourself than to him

"i was busy looking at you"

"don't do this right now" you breathed "this is just great" you turned around, trying to find a hint of the way that would lead you back to the castle "did you never read hansel and gretel?"

"what?" he asked flabbergasted

"the muggle tale about the siblings getting lost in the forest, who find their way back using bread crumbs" you got a bit heated and started speaking louder

"no?" mattheo replied offended "why would i?"

"because we are in the exact same position as they were, aren't we? where are our bread crumbs?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, the kitchen has been closed for hours" he said confused

"i'm not talking about actual bread crumbs" you replied frustrated while messaging the space between your eyebrows.

"ooh, yeah.. i understand what you mean" matty nodded and for a short second you had the hope that he put a bit of planning into this idiotic idea "whatever the equivalent of bread crumbs is.. i did not bring it" mattheo admitted and shrank under your gaze

"did you bring anything? a map at least?"

"ehh.. no"

"what was your plan exactly, matty?" you crossed your arms

"well" mattheo said, scratching his neck "my plan was to come here and have sex behind a tree. yeah.. that was it"

"do you ever think with your head?"

"not about you, no"

"okay" you tried to calm yourself down "i'm gonna get us out of here"

"i'm so proud to have such a brilliant girlfriend"

"flattering won't get you anywhere tonight, baby" even though his strategy didn't work, mattheo was glad that you didn't seem as angry as before

"sure" he nodded "what are we gonna do"

"first we're--" you paused, suddenly noticing something that send a shiver down your spine

"baby?" mattheo asked, confused why you had suddenly stopped talking "is everything alright?"

"no" you shook your head, before you grabbed his arms, gently turning him around so he could see what you did

"shit" mattheo said as he noticed the webs and the signs, that had warnings of spiders plastered all over them

"this is my worst nightmare" you panicked. there was nothing, really nothing in the world you were more scared of than spiders. mattheo knew that. his eyes softened as he noticed you shaking and grabbing at his hand.

"don't worry" mattheo whispered to calm you down, suddenly remembering something very important "i did bring a map" he took out a parchment and held it in your direction. theo had been as impressed as you by mattheo's stupid idea, so he had drawn a map, just to make sure you both would survive the night. "theo coulnd't talk me out of it, but he gave me this"

"i need to tell theo that i love him" you said relieved. theo's handwriting was neat, so you had no problem to read what he had drawn.

"this kinda turns me off, baby"

you send mattheo a look. "you better be kidding. why are you even turned on in the first place?"

"you look so hot in that dress" mattheo smiled "my pretty lady" he kissed you on the neck longingly

"why are you always flirting in near death situations?" you asked, impressed how he was still able to concentrate on sex while you were literally surrounded by possible danger

"we're not dying, are we?"

"i suppose?"

"i will never not get turned on by you as long as i can breath"

"matty" you giggled as he sucked on your sweet spot "i'm not gonna have sex with you right now and definitely not here"

"too bad" mattheo acted disappointed "how about my room? i'll get rid of theo"

"don't you think he already did enough for us tonight?" you asked, raising theo's map "we can go to my room" you sighed "but get us out of here first"

"yes ma'am"

[the-kr8tor]

Autumn Shopping

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

Summary: A late afternoon shopping with Hobie.

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is taller than r), CW food mentions, reader loves autumn, BF! Hobie, FLUFF.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

You both prefer to shop at the local grocer that has been passed down through generations. It's cozy and homely without all the harsh white fluorescent lights that whir, and the god awful brutalist corporate designs. Instead, the place smells of freshly baked cinnamon bread, and the interior feels like it's been well loved and taken care of through the years.

Hobie comes here ever since he was a kid, he practically grew up in the place and even worked in it when he was younger. And so far, you've made it your home too. Everyone knows you by name, and you know everyone. But every time you accompany him to the store, he needs to corral you away from buying things that are definitely not in the list. Mostly its sweets, or a glass cleaner that looks awfully like pink lemonade. He lets you indulge of course, who could say no to you whenever you flash those puppy dog eyes at him? But this time, there's no winning the battle nor the war with all the autumn themed merchandise on display.

He knows the moment you step into the double doors that you'll be whisked away towards the decorations in front like some old timey cartoon character who floats in the air with hearts in their eyes when a pie is near.

His hand holds your own in an attempt to guide you away from the soft orange and browns of the display, but there's no winning when there's a free taste stand right next to it.

“Hobie!” You tug him towards Cynthia, who's wearing an orange apron with a pumpkin on it. She immediately smiles and waves you over, gloved hand already procuring a sample of whatever cinnamon smelled sweet she has. “They brought it back for the season!”

“It's not goin’ anywhere, love.” He can't help but chuckle at your determined face as you continue to practically drag him on the floor. His boots add weight, you know.

“They might run out of them!” You sniff at the tray full of sweetened tiny pieces of said pastry. It's still warm, and the melting sugar on top makes your mouth water. “They look so good.” You gasp, hand still holding Hobie's.

“Remember, love, we only came for toothpaste and bread.”

“This is bread, Hobie.” You smirk, and Hobie sighs in endearment at your excitement. “Besides, it's free! Right, Cynthia?”

“Absolutely, if you like it gramps is baking a new batch right now and it'll be finished in just a few.” She answers, already giving you a couple of samples to share with Hobie. “Hey, kid, how's the band going?” She addresses Him with a bright smile.

“They’re good, Ned wants to say thanks for the tip with the mechanic.”

“No worries.” Cynthia waves him off while you munch on the pastry. Hobie eyes how you eat both samples with gusto. “Flash is a dick anyway, he needed a reality check with his prices— careful, sweetheart, you might choke.” Chuckling, she hands you a napkin and you promptly wipe your lips free of sugar and crumbs.

“‘Hanks!” You mumble while still chewing. Turning to face Hobie, swallowing, you smile at his amused grin. “We need a box of these right now or I'll eat the whole tray.”

Wiping cinnamon dust off the corner of your lips with his thumb, Hobie rubs it on your shirt collar teasingly. “That's for eatin’ my sample.”

You shake your head with a lopsided grin, “Wasted opportunity, Hobs.” Hobie raises his brow questioningly. But before he could ask what you meant, you're already thanking Cynthia while you whisk him away towards the whole aisle that contains all the autumn and Halloween decorations.

Hobie pulls you mid stride, your trainers squeak against the tiles, and your back meets his chest. “What did you mean by that, hm?” He whispers in your ear as you hobble towards the aisle with his warm arms around you.

“Nothing.” You say in a sing-song tone.

“Nothin'?” He nudges your temple with his nose, and you ignore him as you take a pumpkin shaped pillow, squeezing it in your hands. He snatches the pillow from you and places it on the top shelf where you can't reach it. “Nothin' isn't just nothin’ with you, lovie.”

“Hey!” Huffing, you tilt your head back, facing him as he looks at you with softness akin to the pillow you were just holding. You look at him through your lashes, smile getting wider every time his eyes narrow at you accusingly. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Tell me and I'll let you buy one thing in this aisle.” He jokes with a ghost of a smile.

“Let me?!” You scoff, twisting around to face him properly. With your palms on his chest you pat him to the rhythm of the pop song that's playing in the speakers. “You know damn well that I will buy this entire aisle just to spite you.”

He chuckles as he cups your cheeks. “You'll go bankrupt.” He got the right reaction from you.

“I don't care, I'm supporting a family business.” You raise your nose at him, and he squeezes your nose in between his fingers.

He bets that if he kisses you right now he'll be able to taste the cinnamon on your lips. “C’mon, what did I waste?”

You grab his wrist to pull his hand away from your nose, giggling at his stubbornness. “You really want to know?”

“No, I don't.” He says sarcastically.

“Fine,” you mimic his tone. “What I meant back there was that, you should've tried the frosting when you wiped it from my lip.”

Hobie's smile widens, and he guffaws so loudly that it echoes around the whole store. There might not be a lot of people shopping right now but you still put your palm on his mouth to quiet his laughter even though you love his laugh to bits. You practically did it against your will so you two don't get kicked out like what happened a year ago. You still cringe whenever you remember it.

“Stop laughing!” You say while giggling. His laughter is muffled under your hand. Arms wrap around your waist, and he leads you towards the autumn scented candles further down the aisle. “Where are you taking me?” Looking over your shoulder, you smile affectionately at his wordless gesture.

“Or you could've fed me my share of the sample instead of eatin’ it all.” Hobie moves his head back to remove your hand away from his mouth all without taking his hands off of your waist. “You read too many romance novels, love.” He teases, he loves it when you read it to him whenever he wants to fill the silence.

“Apparently not a lot.” You lean closer to peck his jaw chastely. “It got you weak in the knees though, right?”

He can't deny how his heartbeat quickened ten fold when you suggested it. He'll tuck that idea you gave him in his mind and maybe he'll do it when you least expect it. “Go sniff your bloody candles.”

“Such a romantic.” You pat his cheek before you turn towards the glass candles. As you sniff at a pinkish candle, you hear shuffling from behind you. “You know that I have to get that pillow, right?”

Something soft and orange hits the side of your face, “and we still need toothpaste or we'll start brushing our teeth with your candles.” He says as you squeal and cuddle the pumpkin throw pillow all the while wanting to kiss him right in the middle of the aisle.

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Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[m00nveil]

w101 housing advices from a somewhat seasoned house decorator that no one asked for

#1: GET YOUR CRAFTING LEVEL THE FUCK UP !!!!! and never ever ever sell your reagents. ever. the gold isn't worth it. there are so many amazing housing recipes you can buy and craft (torald wayfinder in northguard grizzleheim and perry in sky city lemuria for example).

#2: if you have limited resources like me, keep looking around in the bazaar for items. sometimes people sell some insanely good items! many of my best items come from the bazaar. and NEVER second guess whether you're gonna buy an item or not, cause people won't hesitate to snatch it. if you see it and like it, buy it.

#3: advanced move will save your life. when i discovered it i swear to god my life changed. if you click on an object you'll see a yellow arrow next to its name on the right. USE THAT!!! you can move objects wherever you wanna without having to deal with the grid, rotate them however you want except vertically, and make objects smaller or bigger. you can create a whole new thing from a bunch of items, like i created a fridge using alhazred's repository. note that this feature is only available for wizards lvl 15 and above.

#4: don't ignore the furniture set bundles in the crowns shop. i'm sure no one does but i still gotta say it. they're literally one of the most useful things for house decorating. the school and world furniture sets can all be bought for 22500 gold and there's so many amazing items in those. i especially recommend the khrysalis furniture sets and the myth and balance furniture sets, but all of them are gorgeous.

#5: some items can serve as alternative walls, for example dworgyn's fireplace and bookshelf from the death furniture sets. you can go absolutely crazy with them.

#6: keep going around worlds and find their furniture shops. all the worlds have a furniture shop/seller except avalon, khrysalis and mirage as far as i know, but i might be wrong. many of these furniture shops have some great items that you can utilize even if your crafting level isn't high. wallaru specifically has one of my favorite sofas in the game ever, the ice dwarf sofa.

#7: if you're ever in need for a teleporter or a few, go farm the painted spider in zafaria!

#8: don't forget to rate castles in castle tours so you can craft the regal and invisible floors and walls! you can find the recipes for those from angelica windspar in the castle tours building. you can apply wallpapers and floors to the regal ones, and they're especially useful for decorations, however they can get very buggy. you need to rate 100 castles to get the castle auditor rank to craft these.

#9: you can turn fish tanks invisible with castle magic and the fish won't disappear, so it looks like the fish are just floating. you can make custom aquariums!

#10: you can put house guests on bread crumbs and you can alter their behaviors too! they don't really change much, but setting their behavior to "sad" will show their death animation. if you need someone kneeling or laying down, it's perfect.

[paperwayne]

upside down.

Pairing: Spiderverse!Hobie Brown | Spider-Punk x Reader

Word Count: 462 words

Warnings: None

Hobie thinks he’s being funny when he hangs upside down with his feet flat on the ceiling, arms crossed and gaze expectant as you turn around and drop your toast at the sudden sight of him.

“That’s not funny,” you insist with a huff, bending down to pick your breakfast up. Five second rule – “What, is the floor too dirty for you?”

“Something like that,” Hobie replies, his face a deceptively blank slate.

You stick your tongue out at him. “Weirdo.”

“Social conformity is a prison.”

You stare at him as you eat your toast in quick, large bites, licking the crumbs and butter from your lips when you finish. He waits patiently, only raising an eyebrow when you take your second piece of toast out of the toaster and wave it at him.

“Want it?” you ask.

“Not particularly,” Hobie says. “Thinkin’ of having something else.”

“Oh? What?”

“I’ll tell you, but you have to come closer.” He untucks one hand to beckon you towards him.

Now it is your turn to raise an eyebrow. You draw closer, slowly, a warm thrill shooting up your spine as one corner of his pretty mouth tugs up (or is it down?).

When you’re about a foot away, you stop.

“This close enough?”

He hums thoughtfully. “Not quite.”

You shuffle nearer still. Six inches.

“Is it upside down coffee?”

“You’re half right.”

“Which half did I get wrong?”

Two inches. You can feel his breath on your lips.

“The coffee part,” Hobie says, before he closes the gap.

Your eyes slide shut as he kisses you, mouths soft against each other as he reaches down to cradle your face. You lift your free hand to trace your thumb down his jaw and over his cheekbone. He hums, a raspy, appreciative sound.

When the two of you part, he grins and pecks your lips. “Right, then,” he murmurs. “I’m all set.”

“You really should eat an actual breakfast,” you say, trying your hardest not to swoon. Your cheeks are hot and you scarf down your toast to distract yourself from it.

Hobie unsticks himself from the ceiling and somehow lands on his feet, then immediately goes to wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Toast is good, innit?”

“Oh, now you want some.”

As he shamelessly grabs a slice of bread and sticks it in the toaster, you lean against the counter and watch. Even here, casual and domestic, Hobie Brown is beautiful.

It’s only a few seconds before his eyes meet yours again. You bite the inside of your cheek, and he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Want me on the ceiling again?” he questions.

“No.” Your hands snake their way around his waist. “Right here will do.”

[beepingmemesauce2727]

Hello, everyone.

I have an announcement to make.

Pretty soon, I am going to begin working on a passion project that I have wanted to work on for a long time: Writing my own version of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Basically, this revision of the MCU will be based on a little thought experiment I had: What if Marvel had the rights to ALL of their characters from the beginning?

Well, in short, this would mean that in addition to the Avengers, Spider-Man, The X-Men, and The Fantastic Four would've joined the MCU much earlier.

I have decided to hold off on the Guardians of the Galaxy, because as much as I love those movies, the only reason they made those movies was because Marvel couldn't use any of the Marvel characters then currently owned by Fox. However, I do plan on using The Guardians in later entries to this project.

I have decided this project will start with character designs, and give little bread crumbs of a story along the way, before I finally unveil the full story of my MCU on both this Tumblr page and Wattpad.

This project is inspired by @KingCozy7, @oni18064, and @Green Mamba's Marvel projects, so shout out to them.

I don't really know how to end this post, so I'll just say have a good day?

[howlingday]

Jaune: Oh god! My life is flashing before my eyes!

Jaune Arc is nine years old, in his mother's country, back in the old country. Mama was baking bread for his sister's wedding tonight, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on even just a crumb of the stuff. So he hid under the table, waiting for his mother to set the pan on the table. He crept up and plucked off one of the cooler pieces while his mother was turned away. Of course, it was a decoy platter because the real set was the counter, cooling where she could watch them without losing any to her hungry son. Jaune Arc is twelve years old, in the streets and playing with the Winchester boys, much to his mother's chagrin. "Those boys are nothin' but trouble!" But he didn't care. Cardin was his friend, as were his older brothers. The four of them played stickball in the street, running out of the way of cars only at the last second. Jaune Arc is fifteen years old, and Cardin was leaving the neighborhood. His dad got a new job, so that meant the boys had to say good-bye. Giving a hug and a noogie, the two parted for what they prayed wouldn't be the last time. Suddenly, a wave of heat washed over Jaune, watching in horror as his best friend died in the fiery explosion of the car. Such tactics were the work of Spiders, and Jaune thought it was odd that Cardin was leaving with his brothers after they got a job with some well-dressed men. However, Jaune only thought further on this detail after he wailed in the street, rending his clothes from his body as his best friend left him forever.

Jaune: ...What the hell was in that sauce?

[irondad-creator-awards]

Writer Spotlight - KitCat992

This week we're hearing from @kitcat992, the author of the Identity Saga of which Identity Theft won The All-Time Favorite Award in 2023

Summary:

It's been months since the events of Civil War, and the Avengers are doing their best to remain a team, having promised to forgive and forget. Unfortunately for them, Tony Stark's latest invention has been stolen and recovering it causes tension to reappear. Meanwhile, in Queens, Peter Parker has two main priorities on his plate — complete his midterm finals, and track down a fishbowl wearing criminal that may or may not lead him right into the hands of the Avengers. Somehow between all of this, Spider-Man's identity is revealed to the Avengers, Steve and Tony's friendship may permanently be damaged due to continued hidden secrets, and Happy struggles to buy a youth-sized casket for Peter's funeral. Things were a lot easier when they were fighting over Bucky Barnes. (Or: The Avengers welcome Peter into their crazy superhero family and will do anything to protect him.)

How did you get into Irondad?

The MCU definitely did the trick for me! It was Infinity War specifically that actually drew me in. I’ve been a Spidey fan since I was a young girl, dating back into the late-late 90’s. So by the time Civil War came out, I was a jaded adult watching the film with a lot of feelings of disrespect when seeing Tony’s (at the time perceived) forced hand into Peter’s story. I’ve actually been open in talking about this before, because in hindsight it’s hilarious. I laugh quite often looking back on this. It was Homecoming that completely changed my perspective. It made me feel like there may be an opportunity for something new and totally fresh with Spider-Man, after seeing the same origin story told over and over and over again. Both on film and in the comics. Things got stale and boring, and the MCU gave light to something that could’ve been really original and new. I fell head-over-heels for a teenage Peter Parker, because as a huge Ultimate Spider-Man fan here, they already won me over with that one. And just like the Ultimate Comics, I loved the idea of Peter being guided into Superhero-ism by all those that came before him, while still branching out and doing his own thing. It ticked all my boxes. I was excited. With Infinity War, something just pulled me right in. Suddenly the idea of Tony having a hand in Peter Parker’s story was enthralling to me. As someone who has always gravitated towards pseudo father/son relationships in fandoms (along with a hearty aspect of team-as-a-family trope) I immediately consumed all tiny little bread crumbs we got in that movie. Retrospect gave me an even deeper love for Homecoming, having re-watched it with brand new eyes. And here we are today, where I’m still writing the two as if it were 2018. The MCU never panned out, unfortunately. It went in all the wrong directions and makes me wonder if we’re living in the “bad timeline”, as they say. But I still hold onto that “what could’ve been.” I hold onto it because I’ve never forgotten that first feeling of how special these two felt. How the concept, the idea, the what-could’ve-been — it all felt so original, so different, so unique. Everything with Superheroes had gotten stale and boring, repetitive and the same. This wasn’t that. We never saw it flesh out the way it should’ve been on film, but that feeling of uniqueness of what they could’ve been stays with me today, and it’s why I still enjoy writing them both as much as I do. Long story short, Irondad is every single box of mine ticked off.

☑ Spider-Man ☑ Iron man ☑ Pseudo father/son relationship ☑ Peter Parker as a teenager ☑ Peter Parker as a teenager AND growing into an adult guided by someone who came before him ☑ Basically the Ultimate Comics on film ☑ Tony Stark developing further as a character ☑ Tony Stark being a mentor and/or being emotionally attached to a pseudo son ☑ Tony Stark. Duh

 What’s your favorite Irondad scene?

“Pete, you gotta let go — I’m going to catch you.” When did you start writing and what made you sit down and write that first story?

I was 9 years old when I began writing. It was when fanfic.net had just popped into the realm of things, and fanfiction grabbed my interest far more than any of the fiction books at the library. It’s always ticked something for me, to read more about characters I’ve already become established with. And because of that, the first ever story I wrote was a fanfiction, specially for the 2002 Spider-Man movie. It was not good. But I’ve been writing ever since! Here and there and everywhere. Sprinkled throughout fandoms, always under a different alias, it seemed. KitCat has been my longest venture so far, and that’s entirely thanks to the Identity Saga. I’ve decided that if I ever take off for another alias from here, it’ll be on the published side of things. Not because I want to make any sort of money off writing (ha! It’s truly not a profitable source of income) but rather because I really friggin love telling stories. It’s fun. What do you like about writing most?

Seriously, it’s FUN. Being able to bring the scenes that are stuck in my head to life in written word? It’s a challenge, it’s a pain in the ass, it’s frustrating as hell, and it’s fun. I’ve been practicing writing since I was a kid, and while I’m absolutely no professional at it, I love that I’ve sharpened my skill set well enough that I can re-read my own work and feel as if I’m watching something happen in live-action. I’ve always been a person of heavy imagination, which in turn created a sort-of “cinematic” writing style. Because I’m far too poor to ever make a movie, writing is the next best thing to free all the stories that run rampant in my head. It’s fun, I really enjoy it. Which of your stories is your favorite and why?

It’s not a singular story, but I’m incredibly proud of the Identity Saga. What started as a far fetched dream to actually complete a lengthy series has somehow, beyond my understanding, become reality. I started with the intent of just completing the first installment, and only creating enough cliff-hanging plot threads that wouldn’t ruin the story if I weren’t able to execute the concept in its entirety. It’s taken years, and will take a handful more, but the finish line is up ahead and having that concept executed with so many people interested in its completion…well, I just think that’s real nifty. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Found family, and whump. And many times, found family AND whump. What inspired the story?

Comic books. Simple as that. I grew up on comic books, with many being a monthly subscription I’d get mailed to me — after much begging to my parents. I’ve always loved the tropey, corny, dramatic, fun, whimsical and fictional aspect of comic books, especially with superheroes. I’m sure there’s an answer behind that of which a therapist would love, but I simply allow myself to enjoy what I enjoy. :-P I had been in and out of the MCU fandom since the first Iron Man movie but dropped out when Civil War turned me off to the direction they had taken the characters — that being, the Avenger’s never actually being a team. I re-entered the fandom with Infinity War, because I had an intense false hope we’d seen an Avenger re-banding. You’re talking to someone who is all about the Avengers as a team, as friends, like the heyday of the cartoons. Anyhow, re-entering the fandom has immediately introduced me to Irondad, and sparked the flames from there. See: What got me into Irondad. As far as to what “inspired” the story, I really have no answer for that. I have a wild imagination, thanks to the aforementioned love of comic books. After seeing Infinity War, I had many daydreams that led into the concept of the Identity Saga. All I wanted to do was write this comic-booky, jambalaya of ideas story that made me happy. I wanted to see Irondad fleshed out in its entirety, I wanted to see Tony evolve into that Irondad-character the fandom saw potential for, and loved so much. I wanted to see Peter grow into Spider-Man, guided by his mentor and heroes he looked up to (seriously, Homecoming laid down groundwork for SO much and I’ll never see it any other way) I just wanted to see everything I’ve written so far, and everything I’ve yet to write, come to life. Words were the best way to do that. And to everyone who has drawn fan art for it along the way — you’ve made a girls dream come true. Can you tell us a little about the experience of writing it — did anything stand out or was there a particular person that helped more than others?

The experience of writing this story is a blur. It’s attached to momentum moments in my life that have gotten me where I am today. It’s literally a part of me in so many ways I can’t describe, and that’s weird. Ultimately though, I’m just proud of it. Sure, it’s faulty, sometimes clunky, definitely a show of work to the progress I’ve made in my writing. It has spelling errors that I’ve still ye to catch to this day. Paragraphs I’d like to re-word better, but still love for what it was. At the end of the day, it’s truly a display of the passion I’ve always had for these characters, and always will. How did you feel to be a winner of the Awards last year?

I’m very touched to be a winner, because to me that means many people have read and loved this story, and once again — I think that’s real nifty. The story is just my ideas and imagination put to words. How you read it, and how you perceive it…every person out there has their own vision of it, and I love knowing so many visions exist. It keeps Irondad alive.

Thank you so much for answering out questions, KitCat, and thank you for being a part of the 2023 Awards.

Nominations for the 2024 Awards will open July 1st so starting narrowing down your favorites.

[adambadeau]

Hatred

“O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven;/It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t…”

Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 3

Here the boys came, with their raggedy old boots and trousers, they trudged up the hill, footsteps falling in time; save for some of the younger ones, who were so eager… they raced and dove down into the dewy springtime grass… They rolled around in the fresh mud, and when they were done, they rose again, just to dive into the fresh, moist earth again. Here the boys came, slimy spring mud clinging to their faces, picking spiders off of their coats, which they shed despite the will of their mothers.

They were clinging to things, cloak for Brutus, grapes for Caesar. The boy clutching the grapes had been squeezing them in one hand. The sweet, clear juice, breaking from the delicate skin, ran from his hands into the grass. Careless boy. Sensing something out of the ordinary, he dropped the crushed fruits, the pulpy mass of flesh rendered useless, falling in a heap on top of a patch of clovers. The boy rubbed his face with his clean hand, already sticky with sweets previously acquired from adoring Mother.

On his other arm was a basket of props and supper. The sun was dipping below the trees, above them black clouds, mere shadows against a brilliant watercolour sky of faded orange.

He met his Elder Brother on top of this hill, underneath a gnarled, lonely tree, the rest of the little makeshift acting troupe in tow. And the older boy, tall, slender, with an expressionless face and hungry black eyes, snatched the basket and rummaged noiselessly through. He pulled out a sandwich, and ate it ravenously, quietly tearing the bread with his teeth like a silent savage. Then the older boy wiped his face, and he smiled, and said, “Thank you.”

The Little Brother said, “I’m hungry too,” and started to nibble on his own sandwich like some sort of mouse. The Elder Brother looked around for his Caesar grapes and, of course, found nothing at all.

“Where are they?” he asked in a very soft voice, as was his way of speaking. He wiped his fingers on his wooly coat and dusted off the crumbs still clinging to the front. Careless boy. The Little Brother gave him a sheepish look. “John,” said the Elder Brother, a dangerous tone in his quavering, quiet voice. “Oh, stupid.”

 “Sorry, Ned,” John replied. “Really sorry.”

 Ned was frowning sadly, “It’s o-kay… We could fancy something else…” He bent to pick up a twig and twisted it in his slender pale fingers. The black eyes were glittering now with creative intrigue. Ned kicked a rock far. It bounced down the hill and rolled to a stop at the foot of a weeping willow. “Where are the rest of them?”

 “Coming.”

“Messing around?”

 “Yeah.”

Ned reached into the basket again and produced a small hairbrush. He ran it several times through his dark hair, then passed it to his Little Brother, who threw it into the grass for no reason at all. Ned’s dark eyebrows knitted together in a troubled frown as his newly brushed hair curled up round the back of his neck, against his ears.

“Why?”

“Don’t know.”

“Oh,” replied the Elder Brother, eyeing John suspiciously. There was always a certain type of apprehension that followed Ned… He slowly knelt to pick up the hairbrush in one of his hands, and, moved to simmering anger, hit John with it.

 “Ow!” John shrieked, shoving his big brother into the mud in quick, harsh retaliation. He did not hesitate. The air was heavy and earthy with the scent of fresh spring rain, for a storm had passed through just last night. As Ned landed with a thud and a splatter into quite a large puddle, he cried out with more dismay than anger, initially.

The older boy was not quick to get mad- he was not very mad, as he scrambled to his knees. His face and forehead were smeared with mud where he had painstakingly pushed the long hair from his eyes, and his eyes were brimming with silent tears. He gave John a very hurried, disappointed glance, trying to hide his sudden weeping. To no avail- John knew he had ruined Ned’s favorite coat. The lovely, wooly kind that was navy blue.

“Stop it!” the little brother hollered. “You’re being a baby about it. Mother will make you a new one.”

“It’s not about having a new one. I don’t want a new one,” Ned snapped, mirroring the rage that was on John’s handsome little face. He looked like Father, yes, much more than Ned did. He was always annoyed and angry like Father, too, it seemed. Ned laboriously, cautiously crawled to his feet, afraid to slip and fall back in the mud again. The grooves in the bottom of his worn leather boots were encrusted with the stuff.

Biting back fury, he dug his neatly trimmed nails into the grass and the sludge. He ripped up a clump of earth, crumbling the dirt and sprinkling it into a patch of little yellow buttercups. He made an awful noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a shriek and a primal, animalistic growl, and before his Little Brother had time to react, the Elder Brother struck him with the hairbrush again, harder, and harder still. He shrieked again, all restraint lost, tears streaming down his pale face. John cried out, and struggled, but Ned would not let up. He raked the dirt-caked fingernails down the younger boy’s face, purposefully, yes, with but one purpose- to draw blood. Blood of his own. He was still screaming, adrenaline pushing heavily against his eyes, forcing hot, salty tears, wailing now. He wanted it. He wanted to feel that boy’s boiling blood running thick and metallic between his fingers. He wanted to feel it hot and soaking and ruining the front of his blue coat, saturating the fibers. He wanted to commit the crime Cain had committed so long, so long, so long ago. John was sobbing. With fright, or with anger Ned did not know- he was sobbing too. He was not using the hair-brush anymore, rather relentlessly beating the Little Brother, who was swatting and crawling from his Elder Brother, whose adrenaline at last ran out.

He fell to his knees beside poor bleeding Johnny, who was groaning, and his chest was heaving with sobs. Ned stared at his hands, spattered with dirt and blood- John spat some out. Ned panted with exertion and horror. He bowed his head with shame, suddenly dizzy as he came down from a terrifying high. He felt faint and queasy. Now it was Johnny’s turn, but, shockingly, he was feeble- he pushed himself up with shaking arms, slapped Ned hard, and slumped back down to the ground, nursing his bruised, swelling face by burying it in the cool, sweet grass. Ned was so faint he sank down to the grass too and shut his eyes. His cries began to die as his voice grew weak and shaky. 

The rest of the boys came over the hill and drew back with alarm- for they found the Little Brother and the Elder Brother lying face-down, side-by-side in the grass, smeared in blood, and dirt, and tears.

hahahaha I was proud of this

[mehidktbh]

Spiders

Pairing: Mick "Sniper" Mundy x Fem!Reader

Summary: A hot summer day attracts all types of insects to get into the base, out of the hot sun and humid air. Only to be faced with their death by someone not so keen on them.

Warning: Swearing, the killing of a spider? Ngl this is just something I threw together before I slept. 🤷🏼‍♀️

A/N: Wanted to make this before I write my next Simon Riley fic (thanks to your votes). But this also came from today when I found a little Black Widow Spider in my shoe. Still living in Australia I cannot with any insects. (Also it's canon that Sniper has a feat of Spiders, I was there)

How much longer of this humid sun did you have to go through? At first, you thought that the summer would stay when needed, but no. You've got months ahead of you, knowing you're going to wake up in a pile of slickly unpleasant sweat every day. Even worse is the lousy air conditioning in the base, it's been fixed so many times it runs as low as it can. Just as bad as the air circulation too.

So here you are, slouched over in the main room, the leather seat sticks to your bare skin the second you'd get up. You'd be carrying the whole couch along with you. Scout sits next to you, his loud huffing is getting annoying, and one of his arms is slung on the back of the couch. Just touching your head but you're too into heatstroke to realise he's nearly touching your hair.

Sniper sits next to you too, a chair for himself as he spreads fully out. His usual smirk rests on his face as he casually looks over to the two of you. "Gettin' comfortable 'ere?" Scout slowly looks over at him, a scowl on his face. Usually, he'd fling himself across the room, both hands probably strangling the poor bushman but all he can do is roll his eyes.

"How abou' 'cha Y/N?" A weak smile slowly appears on your face, and you flick him a thumbs up. Only he sees right through your smile. But he nods sharply, flicking his attention to the TV. To him, an interesting documentary on animals hibernating. How different animals do it in different seasons and how bears survive through the cold season catches his attention more than you and Scout combined.

But you're too busy looking over at the small old-fashioned fridge. You begin to wonder how cold it really is in there, usually, the beers don't get nearly as cold enough to drink comfortably but still, that's better than nothing. So gradually you start to get up, the leather breaking apart from your skin makes you cringe but it dies out over the TV.

"Bears can be woken easily during a mild spell of weather, but may not have enough energy to survive the rest of the winter. Which is why-" "AHH!"

Your inarticulate and high-pitched scream easily overpowers the TV, even with its high volume on it's enough to echo throughout the whole base. "Holy- What?" Scout's Boston accent quickly appears behind your terrified figure. Sniper also sprints right behind him to reach you from across the room. Looking over your shoulder to see what's got you shaken up and pointing at.

Expecting to see another head or organ which Medic decided to leave unattended in the fridge or on the kitchen counter. But instead, he only spots a little Black Widow Spider sitting unsettled on the counter. Eating away at the bread crumbs left behind from Heavy's sandvich.

"Kill it, Scout, before it kills us!" You frantically order Scout, only he groans in annoyance. "Jesus Y/N! I thought you found someone fucking dead" Your hands shake his shoulders back and forth quickly. "Well, you're about to find my body if you don't-" Before you can say anything he leaves swiftly. Ignoring your pleas as he tiredly walks back to the couch.

Looking over to Sniper you give him the same look in your eyes, a plead. "Pfft, watch an' learn" You watch as Sniper leans over to the counter more. The movement of his arm quickly alerts the pernicious red spider as it begins to move quickly. A yelp nearly leaves Sniper's mouth as he backs away instantly.

"You're scared?" You ask not out of laughter... well maybe. But more because you generally thought he'd be used to Spiders by now. Living in the outback much mean he's dealt with them thousand times before, right? "Nah'm not." His usual down-to-earth and easygoing face now flashes bright red either from the humid air or is now because you mention his (unknowingly) fear of spiders?

But before you can mutter out a single word he reaches over the counter again, his eyes glued to the Spider chilling there. His whole hand flexed and tense as he quickly snatched a tissue from the box. The sudden sound sends the Spider flying in his direction. It sends him flying backwards, his hands coming out in front of him like he was going to fistfight the insect.

You on the other hand you're now snickering softly, the fear you felt before going away as you watch Sniper unravel in front of you. He quickly catches onto your laughing, a glaring cold look replaces his scared expression as he pushes past you. His shoulders square as he swiftly squishes the spider under the tissue, a gross sound following.

"See, m' not scared of spiders..."

[icycoldninja]

Ffvii incorrect quotes pt 2

Tifa: Hey. Cloud: Hey? Tifa: I can't sleep. :/ Cloud: I can. Goodnight.

Tifa: I want a bf. Cloud: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

Cloud: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life. Aerith: Please never become a surgeon.

Cloud: I hate to disagree with you, but- Aerith: Please, you love to disagree with me. Its your favorite thing to do.

Aerith: So, Sephiroth, do you have a crush on anyone? Sephiroth: The only crush I have is this crushing anxiety.

Cloud: What kinds of sounds annoy you? Sephiroth: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones? Cloud, now interested: Lets say imaginary. Sephiroth: Spiders wearing flip flops.

Genesis: Is this mistletoe? Angeal: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Genesis: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Angeal: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Genesis: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Angeal: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Angeal: That’s illegal, right? Genesis: Why do you care? Are you a fucking cop? Angeal: No- Genesis: Then shut the fuck up.

Genesis: You know, when I first met you I thought you were a real bitch. Sephiroth: What changed your mind? Genesis: Oh, I still think you're a bitch. I've just grown to like that about you.

Sephiroth: casually taking four stairs at a time Genesis, falling behind, taking two stairs at a time: Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fu-

Reno: I am a ninja. Rude: No, you’re not. Reno: Did you see me do that? Rude: Do what? Reno: Exactly.

Reno: I'm gonna get my pilot's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses. Rude: The big five licenses? Reno: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Reno: You got a date yet Rude? Rude: No… Reno: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Cloud: I’ve been sleeping so little the past few nights that when I go to the alarm app, I click on the “power nap” button. I don’t set up alarms, I set up timers, Reno.

[rebootgrimm]

let’s see how many incorrect quotes I can get here before church starts

putting them under cut. @ask-a-snobby-fencer @ask-finn-hollis @ask-jasper-cameron @ask-sora-aguilar @baileythebean

Finn: I am your king, long may I reign! Sora: Well I didn’t vote for you! Finn: You don’t vote for kings. Sora: Well how’d you become king then? Finn: Zaria of the Lake, their arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Finn, was to carry Excalibur. That is why I am your king. Sora: Listen. Strange people lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

Finn: You use emoji’s like a straight person. Zaria: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

Sora: very seriously You need to stop doing weird things to cope with the stress. Going outside might help. Bailey: I went to the park today. Sora: There you go! I hope you got something from that. Bailey: opening their coat This duck.

Bailey: I don't want to tell you to clean your room again! Finn: …but you will, right? Bailey: Oh, for sure.

The squad's reaction to being told they're the chosen one Zaria: I will not let you down. Bailey: Sounds fun. Sora: K. Jasper: No, I'm fucking not. Finn: Do I have to be? Flynn: Please god, I am so tired.

Zaria, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast. Bailey: You're kinda ugly.

Jasper: coughs blood Bailey: Don't die, Jasper! Jasper: Don't tell me what to do!

(mod: army dreamers starts playing in the distance)

Sora: Please, Jasper, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Sora: I’m sorry Jasper. Sora: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Jasper: It has to be done. Sora: Jasper: Sora: Jasper: Places +4 Uno.

Finn: I'd make fun of your height but there isn't enough to make fun of.

Zaria: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project? Jasper: Do it or you're straight. Zaria: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

(fun fact: Zaria is a lesbian)

Sora: Would you like something to drink? They open the fridge We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper- Zaria: Spiders? Sora: Spiders it is then. Zaria: No, that wasn’t- But they were already pouring them a brimming glass of spiders…

Zaria: This should be illegal! Bailey: It is.

Zaria: What do you think Finn will do for a distraction? Jasper: They'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That's what I would do. Building explodes and several car alarms go off Jasper: …or they could do that.

Finn: Just took a personality test and got an A+.

Flynn: Alright Jasper, what do you want? Jasper: I want Zaria to disown you and adopt me!

Zaria: What's the most illegal thing you can do with one dollar? Sora: Exchange it for a hundred pennies, put them all in a sock, and then beat someone to death with it.

Zaria: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Jasper: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

(this is canon now)

Jasper: shoves their hand in the slot of a toaster Sora: … Jasper: …I get confused sometimes. Sora: Me too.

Sora: What do you call quantums of electromagnetic radiation that don’t get along? Flynn: What did you just say- Sora: Foetons! Laughs Flynn: Wh-what?

Sora: Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat Bailey: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents. Sora: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you. Finn: Actually I did the math, Bailey would have $225, not $0.15. Bailey: Fam I’m right here…. Flynn: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :) Sora: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please? Flynn: Sorry I only have a dollar. Sora: :( Finn: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Bailey would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent. Flynn: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice. Finn: You can buy anything you want with $22,500. Zaria: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice. Finn: Apply juice to what. Zaria: Directly to the forehead. Bailey: Great chat everyone.

I’m just gonna stop here there’s only a few seconds left and this is getting long. anyways I’m obsessed with these

[inthefieldwithdiamondbutterflies]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE WALL CRAWLER

-warning this post will be a tad bit chaotic and long but hopefully lots of fun. I had fun doing this

In honor of his special day, i decided to make him a birthday cake. 🎂

I’ve had this headcanon that every year on his birthday he loves a chocolate cake with blue icing

So I decided to bake just that

As someone with minimal baking skills

Let’s go

Nia vs baking 👩‍🍳

First wash your hands

Then gather up all your ingredients. This is the cake mix I used. Once the eggs, water, oil and cake mix were all I needed for mine. Measure everything out and mix until well combined or for at least two minutes on medium. And drink a cup of water while you’re at it. Your body loves water. Not too much or risk water poisoning. Too much of anything can kill ya.

Then go ahead and grease whatever type of pan you’re using and place it in oven. I used mini pans so it can be a layered cake. It smelt so good while baking and then I nearly almost burned because read the instruction on the box. Make sure you read really carefully and use the time they give how big your pan is

I feel like Peter would like a homemade cake though for his birthday. I think it was just something he had while growing up and not coming from a lot. He appreciates it more than a store brought cake. Mainly because he knows someone close to him took time out of their day to make something special for him. Think he just grew up on it and is favorite tradition for his birthday. Plus he probably loves a good rich, moist chocolate. Just big sweet tooth vibes in general from him. He would love going to Hershey, PA and making his own chocolate bar or even just the M&M store to celebrate. His ideal birthday would probably just be something small and intimate. He cares a lot about out his loved ones and spending time with them.

While baking I cleaned up and jammed out to some Taylor Swift. Does anyone else think that Peter would have a hard time getting plastered btw? I think that purely because of his high metabolism. But if he ever does get there oh be prepared.

Anyways back to baking. Grab some white frosting. I had like half a thing left so I only used five drops of blue food coloring to get what I wanted. I say start off slowly and don’t add in a lot at once because can’t take it away.

Once cakes are done take them out and let them cool. If you greased them properly they should pop right out like how mine did. Number one baker over here.

Once cooled down try and level the cakes (thank you very much YouTube bakers for teaching me this)

I don’t have a cool tool like they do is just used a bread knife and hoped for the best

That hope caused me cutting off a but too much from some and not enough from others so was a little lopsided but it gives personality !!!

Then go ahead and frost. Slap that frosting all over the cake until it’s nice and coated

Another trick I learned was a crumb coat. Frost first, stick it in the fridge for a bit and then frost again. I don’t feel like it made that much of a difference but I am a frosting girly so I wasn’t mad

Next, grab your fav lil Spider-Man plush, give him a party hat and light candles in the cake

Lastly, cut yourself a slice and indulge on your favorite spidey movie

Happy baking ❤️💙🖤

[the-kr8tor]

In Pursuit of Blood: Vampire or Cowboy?

A/N: just something silly that spawned in @pleaktale and I's dms lol enjoy!

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Synopsis: the camera crew finds something amiss.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW blood mention, Vampire! Hobie, Hobat 🦇, Vampire AU, mockumentary AU, set in the WWDITS universe, FLUFF

In Pursuit of Blood/vampire! Hobie Masterlist

Navigation

Buy me a ☕?

The camera enters Hobie's familiar abode. Red velvet curtains that drape along ceilings and windows greet the camera crew. There's a noticeable lack of dust and spiderwebs around the place, books properly shelved, and no evidence of blood on the now spick and span floors. There's even a fancy lavender scented candle sitting on the newly polished grand piano that's placed inside the interview room that was formerly known as the living room; or as you humorously called it when you moved in— the ‘undead room’.

Even with the mansion clean of any grime since the last time the crew visited, there's a lack of you or Hobie lingering around the vast corridors. The flame on the candle flickers, the producer expects Hobie to jump out at them any second now with his fangs out to scare them. After a beat, there's still no trace of a vampire telling them to fuck off.

There's a sigh behind the camera, the lenses zoom in and out of the opened supply closet that was left open where buckets of murky water sits. Used cloths are hanging from the shelves, jugs of soap and bleach sit half empty next to the dusty fabric. The entire place is like a ghost town where the occupants hurriedly left their dinner on the table, but this time they're cleaning supplies. The crew is left scratching their heads, not even a sound can be heard except for their footsteps against wood, and wires dragging across the floor. The camera whips around the quiet place, paintings upon paintings are the only sign of life left hanging on the walls.

The camera enters Hobie's record room where portraits and things full of sentimental value from your ancestors lie. There's no one in the room, not even a lone spider is left on the ceiling. A whispered “where the fuck are they?” Can be heard from the boom mic guy. The front doors were left unlocked for the crew to enter so that means that you and Hobie were expecting them.

The crew continued on, they passed by the front gates and the porch when they first entered so that means you weren't there doing your afternoon stretching. And with the sun still up, Hobie cannot be caught outside lest he crumples into dust. So there's only one place they need to check, Hobie's mysterious bedroom. The crew hasn't stepped foot in the room just yet, or even seen it for that matter. There was just no need for them to enter, until now. If he's missing, he could be sleeping inside his coffin, and where Hobie is, you'd be there.

Sure enough, when they climbed up the stairs and into the long hallway, the crew sees ripped packages scattered on the floor. Plastic packaging and boxes from an online shop are left like bread crumbs that lead towards the bedroom door that's left ajar.

Every person on the crew quietly makes their way to the door, an almost impossible feat considering there's seven of them lagging behind the main camera. The hallway grows dimmer, as they walk, the light left inside the room acts as a lighthouse to the stalking documentary crew. The cameraman is the first person who made it in front of the door, he kneels down silently despite the heavy camera on his shoulder. He turns the lenses inside the ajar door, peeking inside. With an adjustment of his lens, he zeroes in on your giddy face, grin wide and happy, hands occupied with what looks like a bat doll in front of you.

“So. Fucking. Cute!” You squeal, fists shaking from the adorable sight. You sit on a comfortable chair with Hobie's desk in front of you, already taking hundreds of pictures with your phone.

While you were too occupied with your dress up bat, the camera zooms in on the toy bat. Meanwhile, the other crew members peek overhead, trying not to make a peep whilst they look for Hobie inside the room. His coffin is wide open, red plush velvet lining around the strong oak resting place. The producer is sure that she saw a polaroid of you tucked inside the velvet, and an extra pink pillow with a matching blanket inside. Her thoughts are interrupted by Jared the cameraman, who's currently tugging at her sleeves. She follows where the camera points, failing to see anything except for the unmoving bat, she taps her tablet awake to see what the camera sees more clearly.

She almost gasps at the sight. The camera has fully zoomed in on the bat’s face where a dozen or so piercings lie, the same piercings a certain vampire has. The said bat/vampire has a cowboy hat on, complete with a tiny feather decorating it. Instead of Hobie's black leather vest, a brown fringed vest has replaced it. There's even a gun belt around his tiny waist that has a very miniscule gun that glints in the yellow lamp of his desk.

Bat Hobie's eyes just stare at you, slowly blinking, nose twitching but not from annoyance. The crew can see that he's staying still for you, something they've never thought was possible in their six months of filming him and you. The camera lenses zoom out, showing the vast costumes on the floor next to the desk. There's the classic vampire cloak that's laying on a red chiffon dress, (oh Jared would kill to see bat Hobie in that) a chef hat next to dozens of plastic toy shoes that they're not sure would even fit a bat’s feet. But of course they're proven wrong when you carefully lift up bat Hobie's foot to place the cutest (most accurate) cowboy boots on each of his tiny feet.

You squeal again, Hobie puffs up his chest, posing for the camera. “Hell yeah! Just like that and you're on the cover of Vogue, Hobie!” They can all tell that the cowboy outfit is his favourite from the way he poses.

There's more unopened packages next to you, but you're still not satisfied with his look. In between your fingers, you hold a gilded sheriff badge. The crew watches as Hobie rejects the badge with a screech. He bares his fangs, for a moment, the crew is afraid that he'd bite you, forgetting that he's not an actual bat but an actual vampire that could drain you of your blood within a minute. You're not phased about it, not one bit. The pout on your lips and your puppy dog eyes can be seen from the camera. Hobie shakes his tiny head, large floppy ears swaying around as he moves.

You sigh, relenting. Hobie waddles his way towards your hand, taking it in his claws gently, and then he does what the crew would never expect from the most powerful vampire they've ever known. Hobie leans into your palm, giving you a little kitten lick across the pad of your finger. And then you do the unexpected, even in the entire crew's wildest dreams they could never think of it; based on how you, a vampire hunter from a renowned vampire hunting family could interact with a vampire you were tasked to kill three years ago. You lean down to kiss his fluffy cheek, he even has his eyes closed the entire time, savouring your affection yet chaste kiss. Chuckling, you're still not satisfied, you peck him once again to his delight. Hobie makes a purring sound from the kiss, the crew is sure that they cannot air whatever they're seeing.

“Aww, okay, no badge.” You shift in your seat, talking softly at bat Hobie. Ducking down towards the boxes to take a plastic horse, Hobie now has the perfect view of the peeping camera crew.

His stare freezes them in place, they don't know if he's embarrassed by the whole ordeal they caught him in, or Hobie's trying to intimidate him with a look. Either way, the camera crew is petrified.

“Horsey?” You ask, still oblivious to the danger that lies behind Hobie's red beady eyes. “Or no horsey?” You poke his fluffy side, sweetly calling his name. “You okay? What's wrong? We can stop if you're not having fun anymore.” The crew can barely recognize how sweet you're talking to him. Especially just last week you threw a knife at his head because he watched an episode without you.

Hobie flicks his eyes away from the crew, they sigh audibly, feeling their blood rush through their veins once again. They've seen what true fear was like, and you don't envy them when you turn around towards the sound.

“You guys are early. Again.” You nonchalantly say. “We're not done yet. Do you guys mind closing the door?” The crew is still frozen behind the door, some are gasping for air, some are just flat out terrified.

A puff of black smoke appears, and Hobie in all his glory, comes into view behind the fog like a theater curtain opening for him. He's in his regular clothes, but for some reason, the cowboy costume you've put on him also grew with him. The fringe vest fits perfectly on him, the spurs on his cowboy boots shine in the yellow lamp as he sits on the desk, one leg up on the table as you continue to sit in front of him while you're taking more photos of him.

“I don't understand the logic but holy shit this is the hottest thing ever.” You gasp, the shutters of your phone camera clicking relentlessly. Hobie glances at you, face hidden behind the brim of his hat, shadows covering his face. You smile at him, eyes roaming over him, fingers tugging at the hem of his vest. “Goddamn.” You sigh.

“Later, love. I need to get rid of pests.” He says with a nudge of his boot on your leg, there's tenderness hidden underneath it. But his eyes tell the opposite, with a flick of his hat, the crew has the perfect view of his eyes. The pupils of his wine red eyes move about, shaking in anger. “Get out.”

There's a gust of wind as he quickly moves to the door, crouching down, eye to eye with the camera, he stares at the lenses until the glass cracks. With a glance towards their terrified faces, they all run away for their lives. As if Hobie would actually kill them, especially if he can just tell them to delete the footage. Worst case scenario, he can delete the memory from their minds. It will be like dragging a file towards the trash bin icon but instead of a file it's their brains. They'll just get a headache for a few days, even so, he doesn't want to do that. Maybe he can reason with them by telling them (in front of their camera) a story during his time in the 1920s. Or maybe just pay for the lenses he broke.

As the entire crew runs, the mics capture your muffled yet loud laughter behind the door when Hobie slams the door shut.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[enchantingfirenightearthquake]

Forneus’ Children: None becomes One

The morning sun slowly rose over a sleepy town in the middle of Silk Cradle. Among the members of this tiny community was a portly black cat wearing a red plaid shawl. Forneus let out a big yawn.

The cat wouldn’t be staying long, she was a mere traveling shop keep just passing through. Honestly, she only stopped here to gather more supply and stay a night in an actual bed. Critter Corner wasn’t like the Capital, where adventurers and merchants and travelers of all types came together. She’d be lucky if she sold anything in this dinky little town.

Looking around, Forneus noted there were very few awake at this hour. The town’s baker preparing for the day to come. An elderly couple going on a morning stroll. And…Huh?

In the middle of the town square was a lanky bear and short stubby badger wearing silver robes. And behind them a cage, filled with several critters of all kinds. The bear and badger were talking among themselves, though Forenus cannot make out what they’re saying.

Forenus doesn’t take her eyes off of the scene as she makes her way over to the bakery. “Morning, good sir.” From the corner of her eye, the baker looks up at her, a giant grin on their face. “Good morning, ma’am. How can I help you on this fine day?”

Her eyes quickly scanned the treats on display before looking back at the cage. “Two of your finest breads will do.” As the baker prepares her order, Forneus studies the cage’s occupants. Two old racoons huddle together by the back of the cage. Laying on the floor near them, a very sickly-looking beetle is trying to desperately suck in air. A bison stands in the opposite corner, arms crossed over their chest. And lastly-.

“Here you are ma’am,” the baker says cheerily as they hand over her breads. As the two make the exchange, the baker’s eyes follow where Forneus is looking. “Oh! Are you interested in buying a slave ma’am?”

“Slave?”

The baker nods. “From Bishop Palace’s latest crusade against the vile beasts of Anura.”

Ah, yes, of course. The war between Silk Cradle and Anura. The two countries had been at war for decades now. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the middle of the two petty Gods either ended up tortured to death or enslaved.

Forenus doesn’t bother replying. She takes a seat on the town’s fountain, still watching the cultists, nibbling on the bread she just bought. Her eyes trail to the cage’s last occupant again. Swallowing the crumbs in her mouth, she makes a decision.

“Excuse me, sirs?” The cultists stop their mutterings to glare at her. “Terribly sorry, gentlemen, but I was wondering how much for the spider.”

The badger continues to glare at her but the bear’s entire demeaner changes. “Well, well, it caught your eye, huh? You sure you want that one, though? Bit gangly. Scrawny too. Perhaps I can interest you in old Salvador, instead.” They nodded towards the glaring bison.

Putting on her cruelest, slimiest smile, Forneus said, “Yes, but that one is still young. Easier to break and mold to my needs.” The bear threw back his head and laughed. Even the badger seemed to relax at that. “I like you, sugar. Five coins seem fair.”

She passed them over without a second thought. The bear put the coins in his robe’s pocket as he opened the door to cage, attempting to roughly grab the little spider. The little spider had other ideas.

As the bear made to grab their arm, they bit down on the offending limb. Hard. The bear howled in rage, then slapped the little spider with the back of his hand. The poor thing reeled as the bear went to do it again. Before they could connect, Forneus quickly moved to catch the arm.

“So sorry, sir. But I would appreciate it you didn’t further damage my property.”

The bear glared at her but let go of the spider child. Just as quickly, Forneus grabbed the little spider’s hand and dragged them out of sight of the two mammals.

As soon as they were hidden away, Forenus turned to them. “I’m terribly sorry about that, dear. Are you alright?”

The spider glared at her, refusing to talk.

Forneus hummed. “That’s fair. I wouldn’t trust me either, if I was in your position. But I really should check your face to make sure you aren’t seriously hurt. Here,” she rummaged through her bag to pull out the loaf of bread she tucked away. “You must be hungry. I can’t imagine those brutes fed you well.”

The spider looks at the food in her hand. They approach slowly before quickly snatching the bread, shoveling the bread into their mouth. “Oh. Oh dear, maybe you should slow down. We don’t want you getting sick.”

The spider glares at her again, though it has less heat to it. They eat slower. “Am I allowed to check your wounds?”

A pause. Then. A short, quick nod.

Forneus gently tilts their head, inspecting the injury. “It will bruise,” she informs. “Though thankfully not permanently. Do you have a name, dear?”

Another pause. “Shamura.”

Forneus smiled. “That’s a lovely name.”

Pause. “What are your intentions?”

Forneus’ smile falls. “My intentions?”

They nod. “Yes. Your intentions? In front of the slavers, you said I was meant to be broken. But so far you’ve been seemingly nice. I wish to know if this is an act of some kind.”

Forneus sighed. “The act was for the slavers. Someone so young does not deserve the life they would have for you.”

Shamura hums. Then asks, “What of the others? Do they deserve that life?”

Forneus sighs again. “No.”

“But you will not pay for their freedom?”

“I technically didn’t pay for your freedom.”

A look of confusion as Forenus’ hand goes into the hidden pocket of her shawl. When she pulls her hand back out, she reveals five shiny gold coins. Shamura’s eyes widen.

“When they went to strike you,” she explains, a nasty grin forming on her face.

Shamura’s expression mirrors hers.

***

“Why do we not act now?”

Forneus looked over at the spider. Shamura would not leave the other slaves. She couldn’t leave them either. They decided to stay in this backwater town for one more day.

Currently, Forneus was checking their supplies while Shamura was looking out the window of their rented room into the town square below.

“It is the middle of the day, young one. Everyone will see us if we try something now. We wait until they are asleep.”

“And then we set them free?” They haven’t turned to look at her once. Maybe keeping an eye on the other slaves…

Forneus nods despite them not looking. “And then we set them.”

The room fell silent again, though not for long.

“What if someone tries to buy one of them?”

Forneus eyes look up from her work before returning to it. “Has anyone approached them?”

“No.”

“And you said you’ve been here for a few days now?”

“Correct.”

“Did anyone approach them any of the other days?”

“Just you.”

She nods again. “Then it stands to guess that no one else is interested.”

The sentiment doesn’t seem to soothe them. They just keep staring out the window. Forneus wishes she could give them some peace, even if only for a moment.

“Do you know where you’ll go?”

Shamura looks at the cat from the corner of their eyes.

“Once we free the other, do you plan on going with them? Or is there any family I or they can take you to?” She doesn’t ask if they’ll say. It wouldn’t be fair to ask them that.

Shamura’s gaze returns to the square. “The cultists killed my village. My family. There’s nowhere for me in this world.”

The two stopped talking after that.

***

As night falls, Forneus and Shamura enter the tavern attached to the inn. The slavers are here, already a couple of pints in. They need to get the keys away from them if they have any hope of freeing those poor souls. Forneus was thankfully correct that no one else wanted to buy any of them.

“So how do we get the keys?” Shamura asks. It’s a little hard to hear them over the noise of the inn. The noise coupled with the smells and crowded space are doing nothing to settle Forneus’ growing nerves.

Before Forneus gets a chance to respond, a voice calls out to them. “Well, fancy meeting you here!” the bear calls. They make a ‘come here’ gesture. The cat and spider share a look before making their way over.

“Hey, sugar,” the bear slurs. They are absolutely sloshed. The keys dangle around their neck. “How you doing?” They gesture to Shamura. “How’s the little freak treating ya?”

Forenus steps in between the bear and the spider as she puts a false smile on her face. “Oh, they are treating me well. As I said, they just needed to be broken in.”

A disgusting smile crosses the bear’s face. “I wouldn’t mind helping you,” they pause here, before speaking in tone that makes Forneus want to vomit, “break them.”

It takes everything in Forneus to not strangle the creep in front of her. She can feel Shamura stiffen behind her. Her eyes travel over to the table’s other occupant. The badger doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge what was said. They just keep glaring at her and Shamura. “We’ll see,” she finally responds. “How about you buy me a drink first, sailor?”

She turns to Shamura. “Slave, be a dear and fetch us all another round.” The spider bristles. Forneus leans in so only they can hear. “We’re going to get them good and properly drunk. I’ll ask them to dance, slip the keys off them, and give them to you. You and others get in the woods. Don’t look back.”

Shamura relaxes as they walk off to the bar.

***

Getting the bear further drunk isn’t that hard. Stupidly easy actually. Every time they finish their drink, Forneus sends Shamura to get them another.

She and the badger keep slowly sipping their own drinks.

Finally, Forneus moves their plan to phase two. “I feel like dancing,” she said, standing up. She gives out her hand. “Care to join me, sailor?”

The bear stumbles as they attempt to get up. Shamura shadows them from a far. The badger’s eyes follow them as they move.

As the two spin and come apart and together again, Forneus makes quick work of the latch. Forneus slips the keys behind her back for Shamura to snatch. They turn again so the bear’s back is facing the door. A tiny sigh of relief slips out as Shamura slips away. It’s short lived though as the badger gets up and follows them.

Forneus pushes the bear away and rushes for the entrance. She ignores the shouting coming from the now angry bear.

When she gets outside, Forneus spots the two. The badger has the little spider pressed against the cage. Before she can go any further, someone pushes her to ground.

“Thought you could trick us, eh?” the bear growls drunkenly. They’re pressing her into the ground. Her arms are trapped under the weight of both of them. “Thought we wouldn’t notice the missing coins? Since you think you can steal from us, how bout we take something from you huh?”

She feels their hands roam her body. She needs to get her hands free. Needs to get up. Get Shamura.

A howl of pained rage breaks the silent air. The bear shifts his weight just a little and that’s all Forneus needs. With all the strength she can muster, Forneus pushes the bear as hard as she can, knocking them off her. Looking up now, Forneus sees what caused the screaming.

Shamura is standing over the badger, whom is now rolling on the floor in pain, holding their crotch.

Shamura rushes the cage as the bear attempts to attack Forneus again. Unfortunately for them, Forneus is ready for them now. The black cat grabs a hold of the bear’s arm and shirt as she chucks them over her shoulder, knocking them out cold.

The badger finally gets to their feet. They pull a dagger out from their robes. Shit.

The badger rushes her. She can’t get close enough to grab them without getting stabbed. Not paying attention, Forneus tripped over the unconscious bear. The badger doesn’t waste time, jumping on top of her to stab the blade through her heart. She catches their arms.

The struggle continues as the blade moves closer to her. A shadow appears over the badger’s shoulder. Another pain howl rips from the badger’s throat before turning into a wet gurgle as they slump over. Looking up, Forneus sees Shamura with a crazed bloody grin on their face. They bit them…

Forneus grabs the blade from the cultist’s twitching fingers. Their eyes are wide open and bloodshot. Breathing sounds difficult. Poisoned, her brain supplies. Their bites were poisonous.

Forneus makes quick work of both cultists, slitting both their throats. She finally looks back at Shamura. It’s just the two of them. The other slaves are gone. All but the beetle.

She gives them a questioning look. Shamura shakes their head. Too late.

The look doesn’t leave her though. Why is Shamura still here?

“You asked where I would go once we were done,” the spider starts. “I choose to go with you.”

A tired smile crosses Forneus’ face as she pulls Shamura into a hug.

None becomes one.