#spiderman!vi

[sapphictumbleruser]

this scene was very peter parker / spider-man of her

[champagne-problems-ate]

Okay here's spider!vi.. once again I hate this moodboard but oh well

[maryannecrimsworth]

Your friendly neighborhood

Pairing: Spiderman! Vi x Journalist! Reader

Summary: Your boss is driving everyone insane because of his suspicion about the Red Spider that's out there fighting crime. Because of that, you decide to discover the hero's identity and prove to your boss she's just a friendly neighborhood

Warnings: mentions of violence, fights, discussion, it's overall fluffy though

Mentions: i was inspired by @champagne-problems-ate 's moodboard so thank u

The friendly neighborhood was making your life a living hell. Your boss — J. Jonah Jameson — was infuriated by the spider-hero roaming New York City’s streets. With every new headline, the Red-Spider showed up with more derogatory names and conspiracy theories. In your opinion, your boss simply couldn’t stomach the idea that a woman with superpowers was doing more for the city than he ever could. Either way, it was your photos and articles being used in the news, so your work was finally gaining some recognition.

The problem was that you couldn’t stand sneaking around the city’s buildings anymore just to get a frame of the Spider-Girl. After months and a few twisted ankles, you were tired of chasing after some weird hero. Your photos always contradicted your boss’s opinions: you captured the Red-Spider helping children, punching criminals, rescuing cats. It was so virtuous it became exhausting — almost like a constant provocation to the Daily Bugle. In the middle of one of your boss’s heated speeches, you impulsively stood up and shouted to the entire office that you’d uncover the Red-Spider’s identity once and for all. That way, Jameson would finally shut up, and you could move on to other stories.

Still, you were done hearing about the Red Spider.

“I swear to God, Vi, I’m gonna punch someone if I hear one more word about her.”

Violet, your little brother’s boxing coach, laughed at your grumpy greeting. Your conversations never began with a "hello" or ended with a "goodbye." They always started with some sudden comment from you.

“You came to the right place!” She pointed to the rings around you. “Just don’t punch your brother; he’ll wipe the floor with you.”

“I doubt it; he’s half my size.” Your words were met with a mocking look from her.

“What? You gonna play tough now?”

“Well, you’re the one looking to pick a fight.” She raised her hands, feigning innocence. “I just make them happen.”

“Perfect job for you, huh? Fighting for money.” There was a teasing tone in your voice, a mix of provocation and irritation. “It’s a shame it messes up your face.”

“There are plenty of people who’d disagree with you.” A smug smile spread across her face. It was a fact — nothing could make Violet unattractive, no matter how many punches she took.

“Vi! Vi!” Your brother’s voice rang out from a ring at the back of the gym. “I beat Vander! I beat him!”

The scene made your eyes widen: your brother, drenched in sweat, raised his arms in victory while Vander struggled to stand. Vander’s legs wobbled, his hands groping for balance on the floor. He was completely dazed.

“Holy shit!” Violet shouted, and the two of you rushed to the ring. “Did you do that?”

Your brother nodded proudly, sweat dripping down his grinning face.

“It’s only the third round, kid. Don’t celebrate too soon.” You relaxed as soon as you heard Vander’s voice. He was okay — even good-humored. “Come on.” The man got up, but a gust of wind seemed to hit him, sending his body swaying to the side.

Violet leapt into the ring, catching Vander with surprising agility.

“Okay, okay.” She used her body to support the large, groggy man. “The fight’s over, old man. Age catches up to us all.”

“Is he alright?” your brother whispered to you, his voice filled with uncertainty. “I thought he was just joking.”

“I think you hit him pretty hard, buddy.”

Your brother’s eyes widened with guilt. Motivated by it, he ran over to Vander and hugged him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” he practically shouted. “Don’t kick me out of your gym — I really like you guys!”

“Are you kidding?” Vander replied calmly, pushing the boy back by the shoulders to look him in the eye. “You’re gonna be our poster boy! I’ve never seen a fighter like you!”

“I have a great coach!” your brother admitted, his wide, toothy smile drawing laughter from the boxers in front of him.

“Damn right.” Vi ruffled the boy’s sweaty hair with feigned roughness. “Now go practice on the punching bags. No more old men passing out today.”

Your brother, excited, and Vander, offended, obeyed and left the ring. Violet, on the other hand, walked toward you, leaning over the ropes and lowering her face to yours.

“Not gonna get in?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to punch someone.”

“Not you.”

“I can change that real quick.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’d rather you buy me a drink. When can we go out again?”

Violet’s tough facade softened.

“Sorry, I’ve got to work late tonight.” Her excuse was the same every week.

“I’m gonna have to have a serious talk with Vander sooner or later. There’s gotta be some labor law being violated here.”

She laughed, hopped out of the ring, and changed the subject as soon as she landed next to you.

“We’re having a barbecue this Sunday. I can’t promise Powder and Ekko will leave the garage, but I’ll definitely be there.”

“Please tell me Mylo isn’t manning the grill. I don’t want to eat charcoal again.”

“No, no. Claggor’s got it covered!”

Violet seemed genuinely excited about the idea of having her family together for the weekend. Her presence had been a constant at these gatherings for years — ever since the two of you beat up a jerk who had been bothering Powder after school. You hadn’t known either of the sisters, but you refused to let the boy get away unpunished after being such an idiot. From that day on, Violet had been by your side in many fights, victories, and losses. She was there when your parents died, when you learned to drive, and when you got drunk for the first time. She was always by your side — until a few months ago. Years, really.

It was as if a switch had flipped without warning, and a huge distance had grown between you. Suddenly, you only saw her when you took your brother to boxing class, and even then, something felt different. Sometimes her smiles seemed more forced, her eyes more distant.

Something had changed, and you had no idea how to fix it.

“Hey.” Violet’s deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere, sorry.” You hid your face in your hand, rubbing your eyes as if trying to wake up. In truth, you were just wiping away the tears that had quickly welled up. “What were you saying?”

“I said Silco promised to bring us more expensive cigars.”

The news from her lips should’ve brought you some joy, but you only shook your head.

“Sounds amazing.” You turned to leave without looking at her. “I’ll let you work. See you later.”

Violet’s fingers — calloused, rough, and warm — wrapped around your wrist with uncommon gentleness. It was detestable, this touch, because it was always followed by that melodic tone:

“Hey.” She whispered, stepping closer to you. Her voice carried worry. “You don’t have to go just yet. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ve got work to do.” You quickly pulled away, spreading your arms in a dramatic gesture. “I’ve got a spider to unmask!”

Your exaggerated shout drew attention from some nearby students. Usually, that was enough to make Violet laugh. However, there was a worried expression on her face.

Maybe your words had sounded a bit too strange this time.

You left the gym with a frown and a mission: to find the Red Spider.

You took a nasty fall that night. Maybe it was your crowded mind, maybe it was a risky jump, or maybe the roof was just too weak to hold your weight. Either way, you slipped while chasing the Red Spider, tumbling off a balcony, rolling across part of a roof, and landing on a closed dumpster. Luckily, your camera came out unscathed, but half of your body was scraped by bricks, nails, and iron bars. A few cats scattered at the string of curses you shouted after crashing onto the dumpster.

"Are you okay?"

The sudden voice startled you, adding another fall to your miserable night. Filthy and sprawled on the ground, you searched for the source of the voice and spotted a silhouette in the shadows. It was her, the Red Spider.

"My savior!" you greeted her bitterly. "A little late, but I appreciate the concern."

"Why are you following me?"

The voice from the shadows carried a hint of pain. For a moment, you had the feeling you recognized that tone—vulnerable and wounded—but the blurry image before you didn’t allow any certainty. Struggling, you got to your feet and limped toward the local heroine.

"I'm actually doing you a favor." There was confidence and falsehood in your voice. "My boss will leave you alone once he finds out you’re just a well-meaning girl."

"And all my enemies will make my life a living hell. Did you think about that?" Her question was almost an accusation.

"I’m sure you’ll manage to save everyone. That’s what you always do, right?" With pain and anger coursing through your body, the bitterness in your tone was unmistakable. A resentful irony revealed that you didn’t have much faith in the Red Spider's abilities. "Just work on your timing a little. If you’d chosen to play the hero two days earlier, my parents might still be alive." In a subtle motion, you adjusted the camera in front of you and aimed it at the spider in the shadows. "Or if you’d shown up two minutes sooner, maybe my dignity would’ve survived."

As the last syllable left your lips, the camera flashed, lighting up the dark alley. There she was—the Red Spider—hiding, staring at you, frozen in place. What was going through her mind, you couldn’t possibly guess. But the sudden burst of light was enough to spur her into action. The heroine shot a web and vanished from the dark alley.

You were alone, injured, and with a weight on your chest that threatened to crush you. That was the last push you needed: you would uncover her identity. You would find out why she saved everyone except the people you loved most—your family.

Countless questions and worried looks were thrown your way during the barbecue. Claggor and Ekko teamed up to try to redo your bandages, Mylo and Powder made so many jokes that your ears were buzzing with them, and Silco and Vander had been watching you all morning.

"I'm fine!" You raised your voice so everyone could hear. "No serious injuries, but your stares are killing my pride. Can we move on?"

"Like you moved on and fell flat on your face?" Mylo had already made comments like this a dozen times. No one laughed.

"We’re making progress at college. The deans want to showcase our project at the next tech conference," Ekko changed the subject. How you loved that kid! You didn’t understand a thing about how his innovative gadgets worked, but you wanted to know everything about them now. "They think Stark Industries might be interested."

"I refuse to sell our idea to a playboy in a steel suit!" Powder protested. "If we do, our machines will never be accessible to the people in Queens."

"Think big, my prodigy. It takes a lot of funding and work before a product reaches those in need," Silco explained in his calm voice. "But the college should be covering those expenses. Where are my investments being used?"

Expressing everyone’s reaction, Isha grunted at Silco’s words and stopped him before he could start one of his speeches. Bored, the girl moved away from Sevika and grabbed Powder’s hands. She and your brother wanted to play, and apparently, the strong woman was no longer entertaining them. Sevika swapped the toys for a beer while your brother, Isha, Powder, and Ekko went off to play with bats and toy pistols.

"She hasn’t reached out to you?" Vander approached you stealthily, taking the beer bottle you had just finished out of your hand. It was your fifth that morning. "I’m sorry about that."

"It’s okay. I kind of saw it coming," you smiled and stepped back. "I’ll go for a walk. Keep an eye on my brother for me?"

"Sure." Vander’s reply wasn’t going to end there, but you cut him off quickly.

"Thanks!" You said and walked off before he could say anything more.

Wandering the neighborhood was the only thing left for you to do. Staying at the barbecue or going back home to work — either would leave you furious. Vi had ignored you again, the Spider-Girl had escaped once more. Everywhere you looked, there was frustration. It felt like a part of your life was slipping away.

Or maybe, you were just a little drunk and melancholic on a Sunday morning.

The streets of the neighborhood had grown peaceful since the first appearance of the Red Spider. Now, kids played and elderly couples strolled without fear, untouched by the gangs and dealers that had been driven out. It was still a simple life — there were few cars on the street, and no house was big enough for families as large as these — but it was a simple and good life. A safe one.

It had been your parents' dream for you and your brother. It was also Violet's parents' dream. Too bad they passed away before seeing this dream realized by a masked heroine.

The situation was somewhat comical and beautiful. To think that a super-powered figure clad entirely in red had brought peace to one of New York's most dangerous neighborhoods. It could have been a great joke if she hadn’t sent so many thugs to prison.

You smiled as you thought about it: she was good. The Red Spider brought hope and joy to thousands of families. You loved what she represented, you loved what she did — only part of you wondered why she had only appeared after your parents passed away. After your parents were murdered by some lowlife thugs. She would have ended them in two seconds if she had been there. But she wasn’t.

You had to learn to live with that and move on with your life. Still, it was hard when every aspect of your work screamed about the heroine in red. You wished you could forget her if you could.

"Son of a bitch, they’re getting creative!" The cursing, so familiar to your ears, came suddenly from inside your house. The house that should have been empty. "Damn it, this is going to take a while to heal!"

In a swift motion, you opened the door and came face-to-face with the intruder in your home: Violet was sprawled on the floor, visibly injured.

She struggled as much as she could to sit up and look at you, but she only managed to move her head.

"Hi," a shaky groan escaped her lips. "Sorry, I didn’t think—"

"What happened?" You dropped to your knees beside her, analyzing the cuts and stains covering her worn-out hoodie. Violet didn’t just look like she had been in a fight — she looked violently beaten. "Are those cuts? Violet, what did you get yourself into?"

The boxer tried to avoid your worried hands, but she didn’t have the strength to keep you away. Determined and suddenly sober, you tore off her jacket to get a better look at her injuries. What you saw, however, was something entirely different: the spider suit, red and shiny, covered Violet’s strong body.

You instinctively recoiled.

"This can’t be true," you mumbled, your wide eyes scanning every detail, curve, and bruise on the heroine’s body. It was her. It was her: you had taken pictures of that same person hundreds of times. Never without the mask, never with her face revealed as it was now.

Violet couldn’t meet your gaze.

"I can explain—" her weak voice was quickly cut off by your shout.

"Shit!" Your teeth clenched so hard that the Red Spider flinched at the sound. "Damn it, Violet! What the hell!" Despite all your anger, there was something more important to focus on. Vi was pale, trembling, and sweaty. A greenish hue occasionally overtook her face, and she was taking forever to move. "What did they do to you?"

"Spider pesticide," she grumbled, her cheeks turning extremely green for a few moments. "Smells like hell."

"Yeah, I noticed." The heroine really did stink. The smell, however, didn’t seem to affect you as much as it affected her. "Can you get up? You need to take a shower."

"I’m too dizzy. Just let me lie here for a bit." Without waiting for your permission, Vi laid back down on the floor.

"Fine, but take your clothes off first."

"What?" Her cheeks flushed.

"Is your plan to keep inhaling the pesticide until you feel better? No, you need to get rid of the smell. Come on, take off your clothes."

The idea didn’t seem to please the woman. However, she was too tired to argue and struggled to take off the suit. If it weren’t for your help, she would have stayed in that stinky hoodie and tight uniform until she regained her strength. How long that usually took, you had no idea.

You covered her with a blanket and placed a pillow under her head. Despite being injured and exhausted, she didn’t need to lie on your living room floor like a homeless person. Nothing was said in the meantime: her eyes followed you, curious and vulnerable, while you paid attention to every detail. You needed to make sure she was okay before anything else.

Once she finally seemed to relax, you laid down beside her on the floor.

"Do you come back like this every time?" Your question was expressed in a faint whisper.

"Not always. Today was a little worse." A silence fell between the two of you. The small gap of inches between your shoulders felt like miles.

"You can yell at me if you want. I deserve it."

"It’s no use, not with you like this. I’m too worried to be angry at you right now." Your eyes were fixed on a spot on the ceiling. "I just wish you had told me."

Silence again.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I felt guilty," she admitted with a shaky groan. You turned your face to her and saw tears filling her blue eyes. "And scared... scared of losing you."

"Why would you lose me, Vi?"

She turned her face away as soon as you moved closer.

"Because you won’t forgive me. You can’t. Not after I let your parents die." There was so much pain in her voice and on her face: speaking about it seemed more agonizing than any bruise on her body.

With a broken heart and a lump in your throat, you moved closer to her. You reached for her clenched fist and opened it, intertwining your fingers with hers.

"It wasn’t your fault. I needed someone to blame, but I would never put that on you, Vi. I can’t believe you actually thought that."

In a reaction filled with fear, the woman pulled her hand away from yours and turned her back to you.

"I already had the powers," she admitted after curling up into herself. "When your parents died, I could have done something. But Vander told me to be careful, he said great responsibilities would come if I used my powers. I hesitated, and if I hadn’t hesitated, your parents—"

"Vi, stop." You sat up, leaning over her curled-up body. Your hands reached for her shoulder, gently pulling her closer to you. "When did you get your powers?"

"A few days before they—"

"Then there wasn’t time. No one becomes a hero overnight." Your voice was firm. No bitterness, no irony, just determination.

"But you said—"

"I know what I said." You squeezed Vi’s shoulder, desperate for her to meet your gaze. "I know, but it was just words. I wanted to take my pain out on someone, and who better than a distant figure plastered across the papers?"

"Well, I told you that you could take it out on me if you wanted," she tried to lighten the mood with a carefree laugh.

A smile crossed your lips, but your voice remained serious.

"I could never do that, Vi. I admire you too much to even consider something like that."

Your words wiped away the small smile lingering on her lips. Vulnerable again, Vi finally turned her face toward you.

"Whether as a boxer or as the Spider-Girl, I have nothing but gratitude for you."

Her eyes gleamed as they locked onto yours. Like a magnet, your entire body was drawn to that gaze, your heart desperate to leap from your chest and meet hers, no matter how irrational that might be.

"But I wish you had told me. It would have saved a lot of carpets," you joked, bringing a dazzling smile to Violet's face. "I thought it was some filthy raccoon, but it turns out it was just you."

"That would make quite the headline. The Red Spider Destroys Neighborhood Living Rooms."

"Are you kidding? So I’m not the only one whose carpets you’ve ruined?" You feigned an offended expression. "How scandalous of you, barging into strangers’ living rooms. I thought I was special!"

"You are." There wasn’t a trace of humor in her low, steady voice.

The smile on Violet’s face pierced through any joke or comment you might have made. Her gaze disarmed you, just as it so often had in the past. After nearly a year, she was back—by your side. As Violet, and as the Red Spider, she had fully returned to your life.

Nothing could describe the relief, the peace, and the joy you felt knowing that.

"Good to know." Your confident smile joined hers. On impulse, you leaned in and stole a kiss from your heroine. The thought made you smile again.

"My heroine."

[aceofhearts25]

Found this on an old post by a seemingly-deleted account and it is my very honest reaction:

[shadowthefrog]

i love how for like three episodes we were all like “where is ekko??!?! where the hell is ekko???” when it turns out he was in fact busy filming arcane: into the ekkoverse

[jxckchxmpi0n]

hi :) love your writing btw

could you possibly do something where jack and actress!reader are both in scream 6 and they’re like really close or in a relationship and she steals one of his hoodies or shirts and he notices while hanging out on sept or in his trailer or something? (prompt being “is that my shirt?”)

tysm ilyyy

Behind the Scenes

Jack Champion x femReader! | m.list

Summary: the on screen relationship started to form off-screen. You and Jack aren't against it.

Warning: just fluff

Word count: 509

Did not proofread.

Ahhh, hi love! I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for requesting this ♡

Edit: first small post <3

There was about a week left to film Scream Six. Over the last few months, you have grown so close with the cast, both you, Jack and Devyn were welcomed with open arms. There was always something fun happening on set with everyone.

And with the last few days of your shoot, you decided to hang out longer on set even if you were done. At some point you and Jack became inseparable. always being at each other's sides having inside jokes. everyone saw the feelings you two had for each other and so did you, but both of you wanted to wait until filming and the press tour were done before going any further.

you were waiting for him in his trailer while he finished shooting his last scene. mindlessly scrolling through your phone you looked up seeing the door open. he came in with his blue shirt with fake blood on the front when he saw you he had this big smile. "oh there you are i was looking for you" he came in and closed the door behind him.

"been here the whole time" you sat up a little bit so he could sit next to you. he had a tired expression "long shoot?" you asked turning to him you rested on the back of the couch holding your head up.

he took the spot next to you closing his eyes for a moment and nodded. you kept quiet knowing he needed the silence. he eventually turned his head to you with a small smile on his lips. "what?" your voice was in a low whisper.

he lets his eyes linger on your face taking in all your little details. his eyes drifted taking in the familiar color jacket. he lifted his head and looked at the jacket closer then looked back at you.

you had a small smile on your face the corners of your lips tugged up as you looked at him. he reached out grabbing the material. then looked back at you. "is- is that mine?" he asked with a softness and with a chuckle following it.

you looked down and smiles "i got cold" you didn't answer his question so he looked at you reached up to lift your chin up.

"did you take my jacket?" he asked his voice soft but also raspy from being tired.

you nodded "i was cold and it was just here on the couch" a big smile took over his face as he thought about how cute you were. his hand brushing your jawline so softly.

"you know i like you wearing it" he said softly. your cheeks filled with a heat as you blushed.

your heart beating fast at this little moment. his chest also pounding from his heart rate. "keep wearing it" he let go of your chin and let his hand rest back into his lap.

you guys stayed in his trailer for another hour just talking and sharing soft little touches. the desire for the press tour and filming wanting to be over faster.

[spicypepperjack]

CaitVi Kabedon, but it's Miles and Gwen by @redrum-alice on Tumblr and Twitter (https://twitter.com/redrumalice); commission requested by me

This comic recreates the scene in my "Miles and Gwen Go to Comic-Con" fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/49026382), and my lord it's cuter than how I imagined it! For context, Miles and Gwen go to Comic-Con, and they decide to recreate the CaitVi scene because they notice that Gwen and Vi have very similar (if not identical) voices. They get a friendly Jinx cosplayer to take their pictures.

On another note, the artist also does a lot of Arcane fanart, specifically a lot of Ekko x Jinx (aka Timebomb), so if you like Arcane and/or like Timebomb, feel free to check out her art!

[zombieewrites]

not to sound "woke" or anything (bc no one knows how to use that term properly) but it's tiring how exclusive fanfics are for black ppl. like when im reading a fic n the writer says something like "you blushed" or "she ran her fingers through your hair" even though it's a minuscule part of the story in the grand scheme of things, to me it is just a small reminder that im not accepted into these spaces or that my features aren't desirable enough to be described. it might be "just a fanfic" to u but all these little reminders build up over n over again n honestly it can js take the joy out of reading fics sometimes ngl.

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “A lover? Maybe. Something tender, anyway. But tender like a bruise.” — ‘The Winner’s Kiss’, Marie Rutkoski

pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader

warnings. swearing, mention of blood + death, mildly suggestive

summary. its late at night when you get a knock at your window. first, its a familiar mask, then a really, really familiar face. (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n.  i honestly just wanted an excuse to write about patching up this lovable dork. this is also the weirdest crossover ive ever made but hey! if the shoe fits, the shoe fits (ethan landry is 110% spiderman nerd coded). an early warning: this is sooo all over the place. i fr do not know where this is going or if i should make a part 2

i.

You’re staring at your monitor, half-asleep and half-wishing your econ class got a bomb threat so you didn’t have to get assigned homework, when you hear a knock at your window. 

It was four-am on a Thursday in the middle of March, so you were expecting a knock. It was probably Quinn, or maybe even Tara, knocking on your window to get into the flat because they lost their keys somewhere at the frat party and didn’t want to alarm Sam. 

Having the room with the fire-escape window was a blessing and a curse. For one, the view was beautiful, and you could sneak out without any of your roommates knowing. On the other hand, however, any stranded friends of yours snuck back in through your window. 

Well, whatever. You slammed your laptop shut on your desk, and walked to your window. In the journey, however, you paused. 

The crime rate in New York had gone up terribly recently, and you had remembered that case just a few weeks ago about a man who broke in through a fire escape window… 

You weighed your options: open the window, oh it’s just Annika, shoo her out of your room, continue Econ homework. Open the window, oh it’s a murderer! Die, don’t finish Econ homework. 

You opened the window. 

Then: “Spiderman?!” You all but screamed, taking a hesitant step back. 

It was Spiderman, the guy in the spiderman suit, New York’s “friendly neighborhood Spiderman”, the hero who fought crime in Brooklynn and swung around Times Square, that Spiderman. 

And he was here. On your fire escape, awkwardly shuffling (which reminded you of a certain dork who was at that Halloween frat party right about now), hands behind his back. 

“Spiderman? What the— fuck, are you—?” You repeated, and you could practically hear his stumbling thoughts as he gestured incoherently to himself, arms flailing about. 

“Hi?” He settled on, then groaned, lifting himself into your bedroom. You took another step back, tentatively eyeing the little league baseball bat you had in the corner of your bedroom, a keepsake from home. 

Once more, the thoughts of those recent window-entry break-ins flashed in your head, and even though it was Spiderman, what if it wasn’t? What if it was just some weirdo freak in the costume, about to use your trust of the hero to their advantage?

Spiderman, solemnly, seemed to notice this hesitation in you. “I’m not— I’m not going to hurt you, I just…” Spiderman sighed, and then all at once and far too fast, he pulled his mask clean off. 

Suddenly, a familiar head of curls were splayed out on an equally as familiar brown-eyed face. 

“Landry?” You said in the same tone as before, except this time it was Ethan Landry, Quinn’s awkward, younger-by-3-minutes brother, who ended up rooming with Chad, your own friend from highschool, after Quinn moved in with you.

Your only conversation had been nods in Econ, handing him a drink at a party, asking if he’d seen Quinn, him asking if you’d seen Chad, and now… whatever this was. 

“This” was Ethan Landry in the Spiderman suit — because he was Spiderman(!!!!), the biggest mind-fuck you’d had since you found out Sam’s bio-dad was a weirdo murdering loser rotting in jail with his oddly homoerotic, equally as murderous, bestfriend — politely closing your window and dusting himself off so as to not get your room dirty. 

This was not the shock you were hoping for right before midterms. 

Then, you saw how pale-faced and sweaty Landry was, a red-and-blue gloved hand pressed against his abdomen, slowly hunching further. 

“Sorry— I,” He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out between his teeth, “I got cut, and I— your apartment was closer than Chad and I’s place, and I also couldn’t go there, because I lost my keys while I was swinging—“ 

“Hold on— Landry! Back up a moment!” You protested, interrupting his anxious rambling. “Let’s get you patched up first, okay? I won’t accept any of your answers until then.” 

Quickly, you wrapped an arm around him, helping him limp over to your small, crowded apartment bathroom. 

You situated the 6'0 giant you’d only referred to as “Landry” for the better half of the past six months onto the toilet, then rummaged through your bathroom closet, searching for the first-aid kit Quinn had used on her latest hook-up just last week after he bonked his head on her bed frame. 

(That was hilarious and disgusting, having to sew stitches onto one of her hookups while she wore a police costume and him a bright prison suit. You were not going to pry, but crudely speaking, it was a shock to find out Quinn was… kinky.) 

When you finally got it, you turned, having expected Landry to have pulled the top half of his suit off. Instead, he sat, head leaning against the tiled bathroom walls, cloaked hand still pressed firm against his wound. 

“That thing’s got a zipper on it, doesn’t it?” You said, taking a peek at the backside of Landry’s suit. 

He nodded. 

“So?” You said, expectantly placing your hands on your hips. But Landry stayed still, as if something was holding him back. 

“By gods, Landry, are you embarrassed?” You said, aghast. By the looks of his increasingly red face, you were right.

Extremely affronted at his ill-timed shyness, you swiftly found the zipper to his Spiderman suit and helped the boy peel off the top half. 

“Jesus, Ethan, you’re practically bleeding to death. Stop being so shy, I can handle you of all people.” You whispered to him as you did so, and he let out a shaky breath. 

(Not because of the wound, but rather how close you were, his real name on your whispering lips as you almost graced the side of his face, your hands undressing him. He felt like he was on fire. 

Fuck, Ethan thought, then, immediately after, shook himself mentally of such thoughts.)

Then, with several beads of sweat dripping from Ethan’s forehead, a low groan coming from him, you saw just how bad his wound was. 

It was a messy, leaking gash on the left of his lower stomach, blood staining his thin skin. Landry seemed entirely focussed on the pain, eyes squinted and body wincing with every labored breath. 

So, you moved swiftly, opening up your bottle of rubbing alcohol and throwing the cap behind you, informing Ethan it was going to “hurt like the time Sam punched you square in the nose because she thought you were hooking up with Tara” (to be fair, that did hurt a lot — Ethan cried a little, after it, and you had to silently hand him tissues) before dousing his wound in the solution. 

Ethan’s back immediately arched in pain, head thrown back, and you could hear him bite back a soft whimper. His now-bare hands grabbed at the closest thing he could — your sweater sleeve, which was apparently at the perfect height for his incredibly lanky, though shockingly well-built, arms to hold — squeezing down in pain. 

“I’m sorry, truly,” you whispered, on your knees in front of him, as he was far too tall to perform this stitching up without doing so. 

(You continued by knotting your needle and thread, ignoring the odd predicament you had found yourself in, on your knees in a cramped bathroom, so close you could feel Ethan’s warm breath on your neck. You swallowed, head fuzzy, then blinked rapidly, trying to get your thoughts back on track.)

If that had bothered him, you were more than worried at how he’d react to your poor stitching ability. You’d only ever fixed up a hole in your shirt, so any sewing knowledge you knew, you were going to apply to Ethan’s skin now. 

“I’m gonna stitch it up now, okay?” You said, in a soft, dulcet tone, considering the pain he was going through. 

Ethan nodded vehemently, probably more so interested in getting it all over with. 

You made quick work of the operation, sewing his skin together, back and forth, back and forth. Your concentration drowned out any and all of your thoughts, except for a stuttered keen or bitten curse word from Ethan every now and then, that effectively shattered the mental wall you’d been building. 

Finally, you unraveled the white roll of bandages sitting on the counter, and wrapped a thick dressing around his abdomen, crossing over his left shoulder to give it some stability. 

(Your elbows had been propped up on either side of Ethan’s thighs, and you were so carefully focussed on wrapping his gash correctly that you hadn’t realized how close you were to his… well, him. 

Ethan had, however, and gulped at how suggestive his view was, looking down and just seeing the crown of your head over his lap. So Ethan looked away, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately focussed on keeping something down.)

Finally, you finished, rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs, and looked up at Ethan, who was leaning back, head on the wall. Your cheeks dusted pink, seeing how he stared at you through his long, brown lashes, slowly blinking, lips parted. 

You coughed, looking away from the boy, and got up. “You okay to stand?” 

Ethan blinked, then nodded, heaving himself up from the toilet seat. He limped across the hall to your bedroom, then sat on the chair sitting by your desk. 

“You should sleep here tonight. I don’t think your sister will ever forgive me if I let you go to bed alone with a knife-wound.” You flashed him a smile. “But first: what the hell was that?”

Ethan bit his lip. “Surprise?”

You gave Ethan a look, settling on your bed across from him. “I thought you were at that halloween party, with Chad and Quinn?”

“Okay, fine. I was at that party, but I… kinda sort of stole a police’s walkie talkie, like, two years ago and I’ve been using it since to hear about any crime going on. There was a 10-31 — an active burglary,” he said, noting your confused face, “at a local bodega, so I told everyone I was going home, and left. They’d run into an alley by the time I got there, so I followed them, and things got a little… messy.”

You nodded, following the story carefully. “And when did… all of this start?” You gestured to him in the half done up Spiderman suit. 

“Well,” Ethan averted your gaze, “When I was seventeen, I went with my dad to a crime scene during a stupid Bring-Your-Kid-to-work-day activity. The place was a real hole-in-the-wall illegal animal testing lab, and I was being dumb, touching things I shouldn’t have, geeking out over whatever latest smuggled in Oscorp tech they had blown up, when a spider bit me in the neck. After peeking through the case files, I found out it was a radioactive spider. The next few days after that I got sick, then got better, and one day after that I woke up and I could do crazy shit like climb my bedroom walls.”

You blinked, digesting the large threshold of information. Just as you were about to ask another question, Ethan let out a large, teary eyed yawn. 

All at once he seemed so much more tired than you thought he’d been, all the pain he’d experienced showing clearly on his delicate features.

Your brows knit together. “…Okay, I think it's time you change out of those clothes, I order food, then you go to bed.” 

Ethan agreed numbly, hunching over on the chair he was sitting on. Quickly, you began digging through your closet for clothes that might fit his muscular frame — a feature that surprised you as much as finding out he was Spiderman, considering you thought him to be a skinny and lanky tree. 

After a moment, you pulled out two pieces. “It’s all I had that would fit you,” you said quietly, handing him a pair of pink Hello-Kitty pajama pants you bought in the wrong size, and a “I Survived My Trip To NYC” shirt Mindy gave you back in highschool. “Sorry.”

“No, I—“ Ethan fumbled awkwardly, taking the clothes from you, ears tinged red, “thanks. For everything.” He settled on, looking from his hands to your face.

You peered up at him, analyzing the boy-hero. His deep brown eyes, the freckles that danced across his cheeks, how his lips pursed, watching you look at him.

The air between the both of you had suddenly turned static, and you were so much more aware of how flush you were against one another.

Ethan’s gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips, trailing across your face almost unbearably slow.

But then you blinked, sobered, and stepped away from him. “I’m— gonna,” you caught your breath, “I’ll let you change.”

You quickly exited, leaving Ethan in the room alone.

(Ethan’s face burned, terribly red while he felt feverish just by the slight touch of your fingers on his own. How you had stared at him, your eyes coursing over his entire being—

There had been something there, but Ethan could not find it in himself to pry.)

[yesimwriting]

⋆｡°✩ yesimwriting's masterlist⋆｡°✩

Below the cut is a full list of all my work :) (updated 10-10-23)

*pls limit interactions if you’re a pro ED/ana acc :)*

SCREAM 1996

Final Girl 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 

Chapter 10

To be continued.

Final Girl fic-verse:

First Impressions 

Sick Day

———————

Final Girl fic-verse blurbs:

Drunk Y/N 

Stu saying the L word

Billy saying the L word

Little Rituals  

Time of Need

Talking about Y/N

Stu’s thoughts about Y/N and POV

Gingerbread

Billy Loomis x S/O with Panic attacks 

Stu waiting for Y/N and Casual Intimacy

 Billy and Stu with S/O who cries a lot 

Billy and Stu Scaring Guys Away

People noticing their friendship 

Driving with Stu 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SCREAM VI 

Ethan Landry 

One of Them

Ask about Ethan 

Noticing they like Y/N

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LAST OF US 

Joel Miller

First Rule

What Follows

Y/N gets hit on - Protective Joel 

Purpose 

Pulling Away

Pulling Away similar story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STAR WARS 

Anakin 

More Than This 

Promise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AMERICAN HORROR STORY 

Tate Langdon 

Modern day fic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DC TITANS 

Jason Todd

Resurgence 

Slow Nights

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ELVIS THE MOVIE

Business Practical

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STRANGER THINGS 

Steve Harrington

Movie Club

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Times Have Changed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DAREDEVIL

48 Hours

Chapter 1

A Red Widow

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SPIDER-MAN 

This Time it’s Different 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

TASM Peter 

Domestic Assertiveness 

Hobbie Brown 

Ask about Hobbie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU

Bloodroot in the Suburbs 

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Babysitter 

Chapter 2: Kill Habits, Not people 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SIX OF CROWS SERIES:

Searing Starlight

Searing Starlight Chapter 1

Searing Starlight Chapter 2

Searing Starlight Chapter 3

To be continued.

—————-

Kaz Brekker:

Blurb series: The Promise of Rain (i define a blurb series' as a series with shorter chapters where each chapter correlates but can technically be read as a stand alone)

The Promise of Rain (blurb 1).

The Promise of Rain (blurb 2).

The Promise of Rain (blurb 3)

To be continued.

—————

Falling Angels:

Falling Angels Chapter 1

Falling Angels Chapter 2

To be continued.

———

Anastasia (Prologue) 

Bookworm reader 

A Knife in the Back

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SHADOW AND BONE:

The Darkling:

Solace (part 1)

Solace (part 2).

———————

To Be Alone (smut).

Solutions

All the Good Dreams (might be getting a part 2)

—————

The Needs of Pain (part 1)_

The Needs of Pain (part 2, smut).

—————-

Corridor Moments

darkling x shy! reader HC

Comforting the darkling HC

Playing Vices

Darkling x anxious! Reader

Kirigan x Soft Girls/Similar personality 

Crossing Lines 

Darkling x Pregnant! Reader 

Possessive/Breeding 

Nikolai Lantsov:

Tranquility.

Handmaid reader x nikolai. childhood best friends to 

lovers fic

Enemies to lovers Nikolai HC (i'm thinking of making a series based on this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SHADOW AND BONE X SIX OF CROWS:

The Problem With Light Chapter One

To be continued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RED QUEEN:

Maven Calore:

Dying Starlight

[srslylini]

the crew after finding out everything that happened was because they met each other during their childhood/young adult years

I need this to happen

[senhoraisaart]

Spidervi 🛐

[s0rinsleeps]

Nanananananananana Batman- oh wait wrong theme song

[maryannecrimsworth]

Arcane Masterlist

Too far gone

Pairing: Vi x Zaun's rebel/healer! Reader

Summary: An old friend of Vi decides to return to Piltover after the conflict between the top and bottom side starts again. Her friend only didn't expect to see her sided with the enforcers.

A wolf a witch, a lover (Request)

Pairing: Mel Medarda x Winged! Reader

A wolf, a witch, a lover(Part 1): As the new wolf of Noxus, Mel had to face her mother's past mistakes. You were one of them.

The line(Part 2):Mel and her new general struggle to find a common ground on their complex affair

Dance with me(Part 3): after months hiding, Mel surprises you in the morning with an dangerous proposal

Headcanons(coming soon)

Your friendly neighborhood

Pairing: Spiderman! Vi x Journalist! Reader

Summary: Your boss is driving everyone insane because of his suspicion about the Red Spider that's out there fighting crime. Because of that, you decide to discover the hero's identity and prove to your boss she's just a friendly neighborhood

Send me requests for any character and I'll be glad to write it!

[aceofhearts25]

my honest fuckin’ reaction 👆 If I had a nickel for every time I posted a relatable bugs bunny meme, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice-

(Found on a post by @ad-wills)

[rhfffas]

Hailee Steinfeld collecting sad puppy sapphic characters like infinity stones