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amazingmsme · 1 year ago

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Making Briar’s playlist & of course it has me thinking about her. & it’s about time I give y’all the content you probably followed me for. This got away from me so putting it under a read more so I don’t clog your dash, thank me later

But yeah, Briar definitely has a tumblr account & she’s definitely a tk fic writer, but it is her most guarded secret. (Even more so than the fact she’s Spider-Goth)

The epitome of a bratty lee, while still being super shy about it. But she like never gets tickled sooo it’s not really something she like, has to worry about lol. But if she sees it happening to someone else around her she goes stiff as a board & looks away & tries to act like she’s paying attention to someone else. & if she hears The Word she perks up & you can practically see an exclamation mark pop up above her head lmao

Being the older sibling, she wasn’t on the receiving end very often & has a pretty mean ler streak. It comes with being the oldest. But she tries to act all bored & aloof if someone brings it up while she’s internally freaking out. If someone asks the dreaded question she just gives them a blank look & says something along the lines of “no” or “you’re kidding me, right?”

Her worst spots are her thighs, knees, underarms & tummy. Don’t ask me why, she just gives me those vibes, but she’s pretty sensitive everywhere

If you act like you’re gonna get her or even just threaten her with tickles she spits out the most violent sounding threats & insults, but she is all talk. Like once you get her she curls up & lets out the cutest giggles you ever did hear. No fight whatsoever. & if they point it out she insist it’s cause she doesn’t wanna hurt them. She tries to act all huffy & put out afterwards but she’s undeniably in a better mood

Her blog is p popular & she has a lot of fics on her blog, some flop but others do the fuckin’ numbers

1 time she was in the middle of a mission with Pavitr & Miguel & she was pulling a Miles typing on her phone while she was effortlessly beating up the bad guy. But of course that shit won’t fly with mr stick in his ass

He’s like “what’s so damn important that you’re not paying attention? Who are you texting?” & she just scoffs & is like “I’m not texting, I’m writing.”

“That’s even worse!” & Pavitr takes up for her like “well she’s still contributing so it’s fine. It’s nothing I haven’t done” & that makes Miguel chew both of them out while they’re rounding up the bad guys & Briar is ignoring everything he’s saying & just continues to type away at her phone

Miguel’s fed up & is all like “ok that’s it” & webs her phone out of her hand & is like “wtf is more important than a fight” but she fucking panics & makes a B-line straight for him & kicks him & snatches her phone ‘cause there’s no way in hell she’d EVER let him see what she writes

After the fight tho she gets an ear full ‘cause not only was she “not engaged in the fight” (she was, it was a super easy & lame fight) & how she “turned on her fellow team” (you fucking stole my phone, what do you expect?) & just making her feel bad & guilty

After they get back to HQ & they had some time to cool off Miguel tries to interrogate her like “for real, what the hell were you writing that you’d kick me square in the chest to prevent me from seeing? Was it porn?” She blushes sooo much ‘cause that came way outta left field & she’s like “NO?!?!”

“Come on, I won’t judge, it was porn, wasn’t it? Isn’t that all fanfiction is anyways?”

“Of course that’s what you’d think. & that’s exactly why I’d never let you see anything I write.” & Pavitr pipes up like “Could I read it?” all bright eyed & excited & she’s real hesitant like “mmmm idk if you’d like it” just cause she knows Pav has a blabbermouth & a half & she doesn’t want any of these cool superheroes knowing what kinda fics she writes lol

But Pav begs nonstop & she finally caves & swears him to secrecy. She lets him read what she was writing during the fight & he’s like “oh my gosh that was the cutest thing I’ve ever read! Why not just tell him?” & she’s like “are you fucking kidding me? He can never find out. & if you tell him I’ll kill you, got it?” & he agrees but he’s just like that smug cat meme. She should’ve never told him tho ‘cause now he nags her about when she’s gonna update an ongoing fic or post one she’s been talking about

But she was probably writing for something kinda niche & Pav is just like “I don’t know who these people are but I love it!” I just feel like he’d be the type to read fics for stuff he doesn’t even know to support his friends. Or I can say fuck that & say she was writing a supernatural fic since she’s a lil basic (in the best way) idk you decide: was she writing for supernatural, or something like ace attorney?

It still lowkey drives Miguel crazy if he lets himself dwell on it for too long. Curiosity killed the cat & at this point he doesn’t even care about what she was writing, he just wants to find out to spite her for being such a lil bitch. (She literally told him to his face that she’d sooner die than show him anything she posts)

#briar sparks #spider-goth #spidersona headcanons #is it a headcanon if it’s your oc?#idk anymore #spidersona #spiderverse spidersona #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #miguel o'hara #tickle headcanons #ticklish!briar

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sehtoast · 5 months ago

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Tender Threads ( Homelander x OC )

chapter one: first impressions

chapter directory

summary: holding the heart of a self-proclaimed god is hard work, but someone's gotta do it. who'd have ever thought it would be some nobody, a simple street level hero-branded-vigilante, who would ascend to one of the seven coveted thrones and do just that?

tags: slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

It’s a night like any other in the concrete jungle of New York City. A streak of red swings through the streets by lines of webbing, eyes peeled for anyone disrupting the peace in his friendly neighborhood. Well, not his neighborhood exactly. He was just a vigilante after all. There’s plenty of fun to pick from, but only one instance could be so special to the city’s one and only Spider-Man– to Benjamin.

It’s not the quippy banter with the thugs breaking into the back of a bodega, nor is it the amusement he gets from webbing each of the fools in one big pile on the ground that makes this night memorable. It’s the interruption, the anomaly that appears all too silently from the sky.

“And just what do we have here, hm?”

The bug turns in surprise, steeling himself against the rush of anxiety that shoots through his veins. This is no ordinary supe here to gripe about him stealing their thunder. This is a man– a god, perhaps– in a whole ‘nother league.

Ben would recognize him by voice alone because it was impossible not to hear it at least once a day. Hell, hide the costume and he’d probably still recognize that face– because it’s everywhere. Billboards, magazines, fucking cereal boxes– you name it, he’s probably there.

Before him stands The Homelander, captain of The Seven, pretty much the face of Vought International. World’s most powerful supe.

“Oh, y’know.” He gestures. “Riffraff doing what they do, and me doing what I do.”

“Nicely done,” Homelander says, professional smile etched into his face like he’d rehearsed this. “You know, good work like this is why we’ve been nipping at your heels, kiddo. Really wish you’d stop making us chase you around.”

And there it is. This was no chance meeting– as if one of the big boys from The Seven would ever be caught dead in an alley in Harlem of all places. Spidey cocks a brow behind his mask. Vought must be desperate.

See, he’s been particularly unlucky lately.

Even before he donned the mantle of Spider-Man, it was never about being in the big leagues. Benjamin mused upon the idea of it, but he could never find himself truly taken with the idea of selling himself as a hero. Not only was the mere idea of commercializing his ability to do a unique good revolting, it would strip away one of the only true freedoms he has. Of course, Vought knew nothing of his reasons– not that they’d care either way– and were ardently pursuing him to fill the now vacant seat formerly belonging to Translucent.

And now, as his luck would have it, they’ve sent their biggest dog to fetch their desired toy.

Benjamin’s sixth sense tells him nothing in the moment. No hidden danger, no tickling of warnings to bolt. A goose chase spanning two months finally coming to a titanic head as The fucking Homelander himself holds him not-quite-hostage in an alleyway.

“You’re still their top pick, you know,” Homelander says, nodding over to the webbed pile of crooks. “You play by their rules without even being on the team. A little… sloppy, but effective. Tell me, how is it you’re going to turn down a spot in the biggest of the big leagues, hm? You’ve pretty much skipped the line.” Homelander scuffs the sole of his boot against the ground, kicking a pebble to the side as he meanders closer. “What, is vigilantism more fun? You like having all those warrants? Vought could clear ‘em up. Get you set straight in the eyes of the law, make you official. Pay you for your late night troubles…”

Ben bristles as he comes closer. It’s not the proximity necessarily, it’s…

It’s like he’s looking straight through the mask.

Benjamin releases a tight breath. “My answer isn’t changing.” He says firmly, despite the anxiety cooking in his chest. He is not a confident man by any stretch. The most bravado he’ll ever know in his life comes from being Spidey. Nobody can see him– nobody knows who he is when he’s got the mask on. He can be whoever he wants. But right now he feels see through.

Pick your words carefully, he thinks to himself.

“I’m not a show pony for Vought to extort.”

Don’t cave– do not give him that satisfaction. It’s what he wants.

He wouldn’t work for Vought. He’s chosen years of barely scraping by rather than taking a tech job with them as a regular person, why the fuck would he do it as a supe? What, he’s just supposed to ignore the endless skeletons in their closet? The pain and suffering, all the people he’s seen online talking about how Vought threw money at them to not sue after some accident or another only to up and disappear?

Ben idolized heroes for so long. His powers didn’t manifest until his late teens and he grew up wanting to be just like the superheroes that made the world a better place– until he realized that those types were so few and far between that they might as well not even exist. All of his childhood heroes were NDAs and settlements, pain and suffering, all covered with media stunts and weak, lazy apologies. Posters were torn down, action figures tossed in the trash– he moved on and eventually became the hero he wished his idols would've been.

“Show pony? Pfffft,” Homelander laughs, blowing a raspberry. “Please. Look at yourself. Skin tight red and blue suit, leaving messes of webs everywhere you go. Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you’re already there.”

“They parade you guys around like trophies,” Ben counters, trying to keep the edge off his tone. “I’m not in this to make money for some rich-fuck shareholders, y’know.”

“And? See, you told every single agent before me that you were in ‘this’ to make a difference.”

Fuck.

“You know how much fucking range you’d have in The Seven?” Homelander splays his arms wide as if to show the scale of the world. Agitation is starting to write itself on his face, leaking free in the twitches of his eye and those rapid blinks. He clearly didn’t expect to have to work for this. “You could help anyone anywhere, all you have to do is say yes.”

The worst part? That’s not technically a lie. And it’s not not tempting.

“I’m sure you’ll see reason,” Homelander smirks, sauntering just the slightest bit closer. “Benjamin.”

The bug’s heart drops to his gut, eyes going wide and glancing in the direction of the pile of webbed crooks in the hopes they neither heard nor will a last name be following.

Fuck, fuck–

They have his name.

“Don’t–”

“Don’t what?” Homelander asks innocently, lips curling even sharper. “You really thought we wouldn’t know who you are? Pff– hah! Please.”

Closer and closer, every step feeling like a lifetime.

“I can see through that mask, you know. Can see how scared you are.” Homelander tuts as he comes within arms reach. “I can hear the pitter patter of your little heart…”

Ben gulps, breaths coming heavy.

“And…” Homelander leans forward, voice a whisper. “I’m sure you understand, Mister Colyer, that I could kill you right now…” A hand falls to rest on Ben’s shoulder, gripping tight. “I really don’t like being told no.”

Ben’s voice shakes and his knees quake, totally ready to dart as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“I'm… not– I'm not doing it.”

His sixth sense doesn’t stir.

Homelander’s bluffing. But, really… So is he.

It’s like the world froze. Time stands still as they stare at one another. Benjamin can see the anger dancing in Homelander’s eyes, but nothing comes of it.

Not even when the bug backs away and that leather clad hands falls free from his shoulder.

“Look, uh… this was nice, y’know?”

Smooth, Ben. Smooth.

“But uh, just call me Randy Jackson, because it’s uhm... it's gonna be a no from me, dawg.” Terrible time for humor, but something had to break the tension. “Goodbye, Homelander.”

And with that, Ben bolts, vaulting up and off the side of a building to propel himself into the night.

Homelander remains in the alley, still stunned, a piercing ring deafening the world around him. He lingers, thoughts racing.

Turned down by the bug, huh champ?

Of course, of fucking course there would be some commentary.

“Hey big guy, you gonna let us go?”

And of course there’s some filth bold enough to interrupt him.

Homelander turns, eye twitching as he scans the pile of mud practically cocooned in webbing. They expect him to release them. After all, Spider-Man is a vigilante. None of his catches are technically official, though there’s usually enough evidence for that fact to be ignored.

“C’mon, you know we ain’t done no harm! Me and the boys were just walkin’ by is all.”

The man in question chuckles nervously at him.

Homelander saunters closer, hands behind his back. He stands over the man, inspecting every little detail. The growing fear in his eyes, the way he sweats.

Putrid. Echoes the voice in his mind. Remind them of who they’re talking to. Of the god they disrespect.

He lifts his foot, placing it dead center on the man’s chest.

“No– please, I didn’t–”

He presses down slowly, grin etching onto his face as pleas turn to tight gasps. The others in the webbing try to scramble, but they can’t escape.

They’re at his mercy. As they should be.

A crunching sound precedes his favorite part. Ribs and muscle give way and a loud squelch graces his ears and the ringing– oh the ringing stops. It's serene, knowing what power he holds. What iron fist he truly has wrapped around the neck of this world.

Attaboy.

To think they’d think him so low as to aid them. To think they’d get to live after seeing him rejected so brazenly.

Now for the rest.

As he takes care of the others, he wonders just how persuasive he'll need to be with the little spider. What threads must he pull to get his way?

#homelander #homelander x oc #homelander x omc #the boys fanfiction #homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #antony starr #the boys

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