#warm pals spider
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pick-a-plush · 7 months ago
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magicalshopping · 1 year ago
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♡ Spider the Spidey Plush ♡
Microwavable, weighted and lavender scented!
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awkward-walking-potato · 4 months ago
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hi!! i saw your spooky season/autumn prompt post and figured id drop in a prompt!! what about a fic where the (gn!)reader and logan are handing out halloween candy to all the kids in the reader’s neighborhood and they get to watch logan hype up every kid’s costume. hes just kinda affirming their costume choices, giving fist bumps, letting them pick candy, etc. basically just logan being good with kids :]
Halloween Heroes
The porch was lit up with a string of jack-o'-lantern lights, casting a warm, flickering glow across the front yard. You stood beside Logan, a large bowl of assorted candy in your arms. The autumn air was crisp, the scent of leaves and pumpkin spice hanging in the air as children’s laughter echoed down the street. It was Halloween, and for once, you convinced Logan to join you in handing out candy to the neighborhood kids.
You glanced over at him, half expecting the gruff mutant to look out of place, but instead, you caught him scanning the street, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was enjoying himself, you realized.
“Looks like we’ve got our first batch,” you said, nudging Logan lightly as you spotted a small group of costumed kids coming up the walkway.
Logan straightened up, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he crossed his arms, waiting for the kids to reach the porch. The first to approach was a little boy dressed as Captain America, shield and all, with a big smile on his face.
Logan crouched down to the kid’s level, grinning. “Well, look at you, Cap,” he said, his voice softening in a way you hadn’t heard before. “You look like you’re ready to take on the world.”
The boy beamed, holding out his shield proudly. “I am!” he declared. Logan chuckled, holding out his fist.
“Give me one of those famous Cap fist bumps, then.”
The kid’s eyes went wide, and he eagerly punched his tiny fist against Logan’s, looking as if he’d just won a battle himself.
“You get the first pick,” Logan said, offering the candy bowl. The boy hesitated, scanning the options carefully before plucking out his favorite, eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Thanks, mister!” The boy dashed off to rejoin his friends, proudly showing off the candy he’d won in his epic Logan-approved exchange.
Next up was a little girl dressed as a witch, complete with a sparkly purple hat and broom. She shyly stepped forward, glancing up at Logan with wide eyes.
“Witch, huh?” Logan said, giving her a nod of approval. “That’s a real good costume. Bet you could turn someone into a frog if you wanted to.”
The girl giggled, ducking her head as her cheeks flushed. Logan gave her a warm smile and leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if telling her a secret. “Pick the best candy, witch’s choice.”
Her eyes lit up, and she quickly grabbed a piece of candy, giving a quick curtsy before skipping back down the steps, her broom dragging along the ground behind her.
Kid after kid came up the walkway, each one met with Logan’s surprisingly enthusiastic affirmations. There was a tiny Spider-Man who got a nod of respect and a “Nice webs, kid. Keep savin’ the city.” A zombie who got a hearty, “You look like you’ve had a rough night, pal. That’s commitment.” And even a little dinosaur that Logan roared back at, the two having a playful standoff that left both you and the dinosaur’s parents laughing.
He gave out fist bumps like they were candy themselves, his usual gruff exterior nowhere to be found as he hyped up each kid, making sure they all felt like their costume was the best one of the night. Every time they left with their chosen candy, they were smiling, practically glowing from the Wolverine’s approval.
You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Logan with the kids. This was a side of him that not everyone got to see—soft, kind, and more than a little protective. He wasn’t just handing out candy; he was giving every kid their moment, letting them feel special in a way that only he could.
As the night went on, the crowds of trick-or-treaters started to thin out, but Logan still stood by your side, eyes scanning the street for any stragglers.
“You’re good with kids,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence between you.
Logan shrugged, though the smile on his face told you he appreciated the compliment. “They’re alright,” he replied, his voice as gruff as ever. “They got big imaginations. World could use more of that.”
You nodded, leaning against the porch railing as you watched the last of the kids run down the street. “You seemed like you were having fun.”
Logan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe a little. Ain’t every day I get to see so many superheroes in one place.”
The two of you shared a quiet laugh, the sounds of Halloween slowly fading into the night. The candy bowl was nearly empty now, but your heart felt full.
“I think you might’ve made some new fans tonight,” you teased.
Logan snorted. “Yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around.”
You smirked, playfully bumping your shoulder against his. “Your secret’s safe with me, Cap’s sidekick.”
He shot you a look but couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. “Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’.”
As the night settled into a peaceful quiet, you stood beside Logan, sharing a moment that felt oddly like home. For all his rough edges, Logan had a way of surprising you, showing glimpses of the man he was beneath the adamantium and the claws—a man who was good with kids and even better with a fist bump.
And maybe, just maybe, Halloween had become a little more special because of it
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meganslife · 9 months ago
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Pen pals - p. parker (part five)
pairing: TASM! peter parker x reader
TASM! peter masterlist w/ series
summary: you find out that peter is spiderman, and your visit continues with more love and affection than you could ever imagine. (possible tw’s; past-self harm mention, slight panic attack on peters end)
a/n: HI HI HI!! i am so sorry that this came out later than i said it would. vacay was rough and busy. anyway, enjoy!
Peter stares at you like a deer in headlights. You stare right back.
“It’s… It’s a cosplay–” Peter tries.
“Peter.”
He puts all of the food back in the fridge. “I’m preparing for comic-con.”
“Peter, stop.”
“I’m serious! I- I take comic-con very seriously,” Peter insists.
You shake your head, turning away from him.
“Peter, it’s okay. You’re Spider-Man. It’s fine.” You sigh, noticing some blood on his suit. “Are you bleeding?”
He tenses up. “I– um, maybe.”
You grab his chin and inspect his face. He has a bruise forming on his temple, and a small cut on top of the bruise. “I’ll clean you up,” You say, yanking him by his wrist to the bathroom. No other house would have a full drawer of medical supplies besides Peter’s.
“Y/N, it’s fine,” Peter whines. “I just wanna go to bed.”
“I don’t care.”
He scoffs, leaning on the bathroom counter. You start a bath and make it all bubbly and warm. Peter was visibly stressed, and baths helped you, so maybe they’d help Peter.
“Okay!” You clap, “Uh, I’ll turn around and you can… Y’know.”
Peter nods, his face flushed.
He gets into the water, wincing at how warm it is. You ask if you can turn around, and he says yes, but you don’t really know if you’re ready to turn around. The bubbles in the water most likely made it so that you couldn’t see his bottom half… But you’d see enough to make you feel funny.
You slide off your hoodie, and then you realize you’re only in a bra and shorts. Peter notices too.
“Sorry. It’s just hot in here-”
Peter shakes his head. “It’s okay. Can you wash my hair?”
“Yeah,” You nod. He gets his hair wet, going under the water in the process. When he comes back up, he stares at you again. You pretend to not notice as you rub the shampoo into his scalp.
“What?” You laugh, washing out the shampoo. “You’re staring at me.”
Peter shakes his head, smiling. “It’s nothing,”
“No, what is it?”
“It’s an awkward question,” His posture slumps. He’s embarrassed.
You rub his shoulders. “Just ask it. I don’t care if it’s awkward.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
You gulp. “Yeah.” That was an awkward question.
Relationships have been terrible for you so far. The last boyfriend you had was the summer before college started. He was terrible. Super mean, especially about Peter. He didn’t understand how important Peter was to you. Talking about relationships kind of made you feel sick, mostly because no one had ever treated you right. You felt unloveable. Sometimes you worried that you’d die alone and cold.
“You never mentioned one in our letters,” He raises an eyebrow.
“I guess I just didn’t want to talk about it,” You shrug. “They were all mean.”
Peter looks at you, his smile gone. “Mean?”
“I don’t like talking about them,” You look down at your lap. “It’s kind of like re-hashing old wounds, you know?”
Peter doesn’t miss how you briefly look at your arm; the arm is scattered with white scars from old wounds you inflicted on yourself.
“Can you turn around so I can dry myself off?” Peter asks.
You nod, and he barely even dries himself off. You can hear how antsy he is.
The towel was wrapped around his waist when you felt him hugging you from behind.
“Peter, you’re all wet,” You giggle.
He laughs too. “Shh, it’s fine. You’re fine.”
“Let go.”
“Never,” Peter whispers in your ear.
“I’ll scream,” You warn.
“Yeah, right.”
When you and Peter finally make it to his bed, he wraps an arm around your shoulders as he reads. You really want to sleep. But Peter is right there. He’s warm and soft. He sets his book down and takes his glasses off when he feels you cuddling up to him.
“You tired?” Peter asks, smiling.
“No,” You murmur into his neck.
He rubs your back, making you even more tired.
“Do you wanna see my webs?” He whispers.
You shake your head. “Show me tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
~
When Peter wakes up, he’s alone in his bed.
He groans, stretching. He heard the shower running, and you singing, and he smiled.
It was already day two of your visit. Peter never wanted it to end, no, the thought of you leaving terrified him. He had already become dependent on your smile to get him through the day. I’m whipped, he thinks as he makes breakfast for you and May.
May emerges from her bedroom with a slight grin.
“Saw you two sleeping in your bed,” She says. “You didn’t have sex, right?”
Peter chokes on his orange juice. He shakes his head with a blush rising on his cheeks and ears.
“Good,” May sighs, “I hated giving you the talk the first time.”
“What talk?” You ask, clueless.
Your skin was all red and slightly wet from your shower. Not to mention that you were only wrapped in a towel. Peter couldn’t form a single thought in his brain.
“Umm,” Peter stammers, “Being safe as Spider-Man. She noticed my latest injuries.”
May nods, tugging at Peter’s ear. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day!”
You laugh, girlish and loud. Peter watches as you walk away, the urge to tug you back and kiss you is way too primal.
Once you’re dressed and have eaten breakfast, Peter wanted to go for a walk.
It was nice outside. Not too warm, and not too cold. Peter slips an arm around your waist as you walk through Central Park, and you seem none the wiser. He listens to you talk about the latest book you read, because how could he not? You’re beaming and beautiful and so excited about some book he’s never heard of. He thinks he loves you, but he’s not going to think too much about it.
“Was it supposed to rain?” You ask him. “I felt a drop.”
Peter feels one too, along with the guilt of taking you out when it’s about to pour.
“Sorry, bub. I didn’t know it was gonna rain… We can get a cab home if you want,” Peter shrugs, letting go of your waist.
“It’s okay,” You laugh, “I don’t mind getting a little wet!”
Peter’s fingers ghost over yours. You notice what he’s doing, and smile, telling him not to be shy. It was hard for him to not be. When your hand is in his, he feels a little more confident. Secure.
The rain starts coming down, and you mutter something about a paper in your pocket.
“What’s in your pocket?” Peter asks, “You keep digging in there.”
You let go of his hand.
“It’s nothing,” You stop walking to look through every pocket in your shorts. “Ugh, damnit.”
Peter raises an eyebrow, “Okay, what did you lose?”
“Promise you won’t make fun of me,” You whine. “Please. It’s so embarrassing.”
“So much embarrassment for one girl. Just tell me.”
You take a deep breath. “I lost the drawing you gave me.”
Peter ponders for a moment. Did he give you a drawing? He couldn’t even remember.
“Why are you embarrassed?” Peter grins, “That can’t be the right word.”
“Guilty? A terrible friend?” You grumble, hugging Peter. He hoped it was for comfort.
Peter chuckles, hugging you back. The rain is still pouring down on you both.
“It’s okay, lovie,” He smiles, “I’ll draw you something else, okay?”
You nod, still frowning.
Peter knew he didn’t draw you a lot of things. He would make drawings for you, but wouldn’t send them in fear that they were bad. Maybe he’d show them to you soon.
“I bet you can’t beat me to that bench over there,” Peter dares.
A smile spreads across your face. “I bet I can.”
“We’ll see about that.”
You count down from three, and you both start running. Peter immediately starts falling behind, and you can’t tell if he’s doing it purposefully or not. You and Peter’s giggles are some of the only noises around, other than birds chirping.
When you win the race and sit on the bench, he follows close behind.
“Fuck,” Peter gasps, “Why the hell are you so fast?”
Rain is still coming down, but the sun is peaking out. A rainbow is starting to form in the sky.
You blush, “I think you let me win.”
He laughs, still out of breath. “Maybe a little.”
The bench was wet and uncomfortable to sit on. You and Peter were both soaking wet. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, kissing the crown of your head. Peter mutters about something May said before you came; how you would have laughed so hard at her stupid joke. You try to listen, you really do, but Peter’s mouth looks so lovely and kissable. God, you need to get over this crush. Or do something about it.
“What?” Peter finally looks at you, “Is there something on my face-?”
“No. I was- uh, zoning out,” You lie, “Wanna go back home?”
He nods, squeezing your hand. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl, you repeat in your head.
~
You and Peter get back home and shower, as neither of you wanted to get sick or smell like rain. He watches as you do your makeup afterward, even though you guys aren’t going anywhere.
“It cannot be that interesting to watch a girl do her makeup,” You chuckle.
“Oh, but it is,” Peter says, “I don’t know how you do it.”
You don’t respond, putting your signature lipgloss on instead.
May shuffles past Peter and into the bathroom, she tells you that you look pretty. Peter wants to say something like that, too, but he’s not sure how to word it. “I have a shift,” May says, “I’ll be gone for a while. No funny business, you two!”
“Bye, May,” Peter kisses her cheek goodbye.
You kiss her cheek too, and then she’s gone.
Peter walks off to his bedroom with his face flushed. He’s so annoyed with himself. Why can’t he just tell you he likes you? He could tell Gwen he liked her. He almost hears Gwen’s voice in his head, telling him to go get her. Scoop her up before someone else does. Gwen always knew what was best. God damn her and her wiseness. Before Peter knows it, he’s crying, holding his hands over his mouth and nose to stop the pathetic noises from escaping. He just really needed to tell you. And if you don’t feel the same, then he’ll just shrivel up and die—no big deal.
He pulls himself together before you can notice something being amiss.
“Do you have a roof we can sit on?” You ask, sitting on the kitchen counter.
Peter smiles. “You want to sit on the roof?”
“Yeah!” You beam, “I used to do it as a kid. Almost fell and broke my ankle once.”
“Don’t break your ankle sitting on the counter.”
You scoff, hugging your legs to your chest.
Peter moves around the kitchen. He’s cleaning what doesn’t need to be cleaned-- mostly because he needs to distract himself. You aren’t helping by sitting on the counter and watching his every move.
“So,” You tug Peter’s wrist, “Roof? C’mon, Pete. The sun’s setting. We can’t miss it!”
“It’s not that interesting,” He says, voice monotone. “Usually the same sunset every day.”
“Well, I haven’t been here every day.”
Your determination to sit on the roof almost makes him smile. Almost.
“Fine,” Peter sighs. “If you break a bone, it’s your fault.”
You nod, face flushed, and eyes creased from your bruising smile. Peter worries you’ll get stuck like that; your huge, crooked smile. Not that he would mind you being stuck like this.
When both of you are on the roof, you hand Peter one of your wired earbuds. He takes it and lays himself down on the shingles with you.
“Any song requests?” You smile. That goddamn smile, Peter thinks.
“All These Things That I’ve Done,” Peter says instantly, “You know, The Killers?”
The song starts playing. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard this one,” You confess.
Another head aches,
another heart breaks,
I’m so much older than I can take.
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no, no, no, no--
Peter shrugs, smiling. “I need to introduce you to real music.”
You look over at him, face flushed and a little sweaty because of how hot it is. Peter doesn’t look over at you; he’s too afraid. The fact that he feels nervous and shy because of you makes him smile, but it also scares him. “You’re not looking at the sunset,” Peter remarks. You glance at the sunset. It wasn’t that exciting, like Peter said.
“Peter,” You whisper, “I didn’t want to come out here for the sunset.”
He looks visibly confused. You frown.
“Why are we on the roof, then? I don’t want you up here, Y/N, you’ll get hurt.”
You groan, face falling between your knees.
“I like you, Pete,” You say quietly, so quiet that Peter almost misses it.
“What?” He practically squeaks.
“I’m not repeating myself.”
Peter puts his hand on your knee, he’s smiling. “You like me?”
You whine, trying to get away from him. You slide down the roof and onto the porch, Peter watches and follows. When you stride off to the front door, Peter stops you. He yanks you back with a web, his hands going to your waist. “Those were my webs, if you wanted to know,” He smiles, looking into your eyes.
Laughing, your hands fall on his face. The stubble of facial hair against your palms, his pink cheeks, and his stupidly gorgeous brown eyes were so close.
“For the record,” Peter twirls some of your hair around his fingers, “I like you too. Maybe more than like.”
You look away from his eyes, the fluttering feeling in your stomach becoming too much.
“No,” He whispers, “Look at me.”
You shake your head, smiling and squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t expect him to do anything funny when you did that, but then he kissed your lips, and everything melted.
Peter felt bad that he hadn’t asked first. “Sorry,” He huffs, still holding onto your face.
“Don’t be sorry,” You smile, leaning in and kissing him.
Peter sinks into the kiss, hands roaming around your face and neck. You tried really hard not to make any embarrassing sounds or mess up. It had been a long time since you kissed anyone. Peter didn’t mind, he guided you with pleasure. When he touches his tongue to your bottom lip, you groan. You two were eventually french-kissing on his front porch, still not giving a damn about the sunset.
“We should-” You murmur between kisses, “We should go inside, don’t you think? This is a lot of PDA.”
Peter laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth. He leads you inside and into his room. You have a feeling that you know what’s happening next, and your heart feels heavy. It’s not that you didn’t like Peter. You loved him. You didn’t want to have sex with him, not now at least. And you didn’t want that to be the entirety of the visit.
You couldn’t have been more off.
“Do you wanna go out on a date?” Peter asks, lying down on his bed. “I wanted to take you out before kissing you. The buildup would’ve been nice, you know? But, I just couldn’t help it.”
You stare at him, standing in front of his bed. “What?”
Peter shrugs. “If you don’t wanna go out, that’s cool. I just wanted you to know that I want to be together.”
“You want that?” You ask quietly.
“Do you not?”
That was such a dumb question. Of course, you wanted it. You wanted to be with Peter since junior year of high school when you two first connected and started the letters. It was just a foreign feeling to be wanted for something. Peter was everything you needed and wanted, so why did you feel this nervous bomb in your stomach waiting to explode?
“Bub,” Peter coos, “Come here, will you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
You walk over to Peter, falling into his arms. “You want to be with me?”
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t,” He assures.
“Oh.”
He laughs, loudly and unapologetically, not at you, but more so at the fact that you didn’t understand that he wanted this. He wanted to be close to you and be able to hug your waist. He wanted everything, only if it was involving you. “I think that when Gwen died, I knew,” Peter says quietly.
“Knew what?”
“I knew that she was right. She’d always tell me to be with you, even though you lived so far. The number of times I talked about you was unreal. I love Gwen, obviously, but she was right about you. You’ve always been my person.” He explains, toying with the necklace around your neck.
You smile, warmth pooling in your chest. Peter smiles too, kissing your knuckles.
“What would we do about distance?” You ask, “I won’t be in Queens forever.”
“I dunno. Maybe we just have to go with the flow and see,” Peter shrugs, “I wish you could be here forever.” He hugs you tighter.
You giggle, kissing down Peter’s hairline. His head remains in your chest, listening to your heart and accepting all of the love you were giving him. Peter was euphoric; practically buzzing with happiness.
He loved you, you loved him, and everything was at peace.
~
“Are you sure you’re not gonna go spidering?”
Peter groans, throwing a balled-up shirt at your head. He’s attempting to clean his room, but you’re bombarding him about Spider-Man duties.
“Stop calling it that,” He demands, “And no, I’m not going out.”
“Twitter is very concerned about your whereabouts–”
He snatches your phone from your hand, grinning.
Kissing your head, he says; “I’d rather be with you than doing NYPD’s job.”
“They should pay you for saving New York so many times,” You suggest, blushing from his proximity. You could feel the heat radiating off his face.
Peter pecks your lips, slow and loving. You laugh, pushing him away when he starts to kiss down your neck. “Go away,” You giggle.
“Go away?” Peter laughs, “You were begging me to lay by you earlier. What happened to that, honey?”
The soft hum of music plays in the background. City noises are making the walls rattle. Peter is warm and lovely. You want to stay here forever, you think. Peter and you, forever.
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whumpdoyoumean · 3 months ago
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Whumptober #10
xxx blow to the head
"How am I just now learning that you're actually a pretty good artist?" Buck says, looking over at the butterfly Eddie is painting on a little girl's face.
"You think so?" Eddie says, tilting his head to one side as he scrutinizes his work.
"Are you a good artist?" the boy seated in front of Buck asks, and Buck's cheeks go warm as he looks at the green blob he's painted that only vaguely resembles a turtle. Chim snickers and Buck does his best to ignore him.
"Y-yeah. I mean." He swallows, shrugs. "Yeah."
The boy doesn't look convinced. Buck smiles at him, grabbing a smaller brush and putting two black dots for the turtle's eyes. They're different sizes, and a little lopsided, but maybe cute? He sets the brush back and leans back, clapping his hands together.
"All done!"
"I wanna see!" the boy cries.
"Oh, uh. I don't think--"
"Here's a mirror, pal," Chimney says, handing a small mirror to the kid and shooting a smirk in Buck's direction.
The boy looks at his reflection, eyes narrowed. Buck is embarrassed at how much he cares what this random six year old thinks, but he can't help it as he practically holds his breath waiting for the kid's response.
"That doesn't really look like a turtle," the boy finally says, "but I still like it."
"You know what, I'll take it!" Buck says. He holds up his fist and the kid grins, balling up his hand into a tiny fist of his own and bumping his knuckles against Buck's before sliding off of his stool and running off to check out one of the other attractions.
The 118 had volunteered to participate at one of the big autumn festivals this year. The engine is all decked out with fake spider webs and bats, and there's a bucket of candy and stickers to hand out to any kid that wants to check out the fire engine and listen to a little spiel on fire safety. What they had not volunteered for was face painting, but the two people who originally signed up canceled last minute. Buck still isn't sure how he, Eddie, and Chim ended up being the ones to get assigned in their place. He is sure that Hen owes him one.
His stomach growls loudly and he looks down at his watch. It's almost noon. Lunchtime. There aren't any kids waiting in line to have their hands or faces painted, so Buck stands.
"I think I'm ready for those donuts we were promised," he says. "I'll check in with the others first, see if they want some, too."
"Hey, wait a minute," Chim protests. "Why do you get to go on the donut run?"
"Because I thought of it first?" He grins and claps Chimney on the back. "Don't worry, you're doing great."
He leaves before Chim has the chance to argue. The engine is parked down toward the other end of the farm, but he really doesn't mind the walk. It's a perfect day – sunny, mid-70s, startlingly blue, cloudless sky, just a slight breeze. It's not as classically autumnal as Pennsylvania gets this time of year, but he just can't bring himself to miss that place.
He's almost to the engine when he sees someone look around and then duck under one of the ropes that acts as a boundary for the areas that aren't open to the public. He doesn't get a good look at them--they've got a baseball hat on, and their hood is pulled up in a way that obscures their face--but they've got a small frame that makes Buck think it's probably a teen. There's all sorts of dangerous farm equipment back there that could cause serious injury, especially to a dumb, thrill-seeking kid. Probably he should tell someone that works here, but the only employees he sees nearby at the moment are bored-looking high schoolers.
So he makes the monumentally stupid decision to follow. It's not even a decision, really. One second he's just standing there, watching, and the next he's moving, away from the fire engine and his coworkers and away from the crowd as he trails after the shadowy figure. Said shadowy figure ducks behind an old barn, out of sight, and Buck slows.
"Hey," he calls. "Hey, you're not in any trouble. Not from me, anyway. I just wanna make sure you're being safe..."
He rounds the corner and startles. The person in the hoodie is standing perfectly still a few yards away, their back to Buck, and they don't respond to his presence. The hairs on the back of Buck's neck stand, and the concern he'd had for the stranger's well-being is suddenly replaced by an overwhelming sense of danger.
“Hey,” Buck says, voice quivering a little now as he takes a cautious step forward.
He doesn’t have a chance to react before the person turns, swinging something at the side of Buck's head, and everything goes black.
xxx
“What’s taking Buck so long?” Chimney says. “I’m starving, I need those donuts!”
Eddie hadn’t really thought about it, but Buck has been gone a while. He stands, stretching as he does. “He probably started talking with the others and lost track of time. I’ll go get him.”
“Be quick. As much as I hate to admit it, Buck was right. You're good at this.”
Eddie snorts. Glancing around to make sure there aren't any kids nearby, he leans in. “I'm not that good, you guys just both suck."
Chim lets out a psh andpushes at Eddie's shoulder. "Get out of here!"
Eddie laughs, heading off toward the engine. As he gets close, though he's surprised to find that Buck is nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, Eddie,” Bobby says. “You guys doin’ okay over there?”
“Yep, Chim has only made one kid cry so far so I definitely count that as a win…Hey, have you seen Buck?”
Bobby’s eyebrows twitch into the barest hint of a frown. “I thought he was with you.”
“He left to get some apple cider donuts, like, twenty minutes ago,” Eddie says. He isn’t sure why, but there’s a feeling of unease settling over him. It’s completely baseless and feels a little silly so he does his best to ignore it. “He said he was gonna come ask if you wanted some first. He hasn’t been by?”
Bobby shakes his head. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Did you check the donut line? They’ve been busy all day,” Hen says. "He could've decided it would be better to go ahead and get in line and then ask if we want some."
“The vendor said she had some set aside for us so that we could skip the line,” Eddie says. “But yeah, it’s possible he ended up waiting, anyway. I’ll go check.”
“Good,” Bobby says. “Let us know if you find him.”
Eddie nods. “Will do, Cap.”
He makes his way over to the donut stand, keeping an eye out for Buck as he goes. He doesn’t see any sign of him, though, and the unsettled feeling grows. He walks up to the window, drawing many annoyed stares from the long line of people.
“Hey!” the vendor, a teenage girl named Lane says with a big grin. “You here for your donuts?”
“Buck didn’t come by to get them?” Eddie says, and she shakes her head.
“No. I haven’t seen Buck since you guys first got here. I’ve got your donuts right here for you, though!”
“That’s okay, I’ll get ‘em later.” Eddie flashes a smile. “Thank you.”
Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets and walks back to the engine. Bobby and Hen both look up.
“No Buck?” Bobby says, and Eddie shakes his head.
“Nuh-uh…” He takes a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s going to sound kinda weird, but I’ve got this feeling I can’t shake.”
“What kind of feeling?” Bobby says slowly, frowning.
Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know, most likely it’s nothing but just…something feels off. He should’ve been back by now.”
“You know Buck. I'm sure he just got distracted by something. But if you’re worried, I can help you look for him.”
“Yeah, I’ll stay back with the engine,” Hen offers. “It’s not too busy right now since the haunted hayrides started.”
“Thank you,” Eddie says. “Again, it’s probably nothing but I want to make sure.”
“Hey, it's not a problem," Bobby says. "I’ll head toward the corn maze if you wanna go let Chim know what’s going on and then maybe check the bathroom?”
Eddie nods gratefully. “Sounds good.”
He scans the crowd for Buck as he jogs back toward Chimney, listens for the familiar sound of his voice, his laughter. But there’s no sign of him.
“Hey, Eddie! You got some donuts for me?” Chim calls as he approaches. “Where’s Buck?”
“I’m not sure. Bobby is helping me look for him. You’re on your own for a few more minutes.”
Chim’s face falls. “Wha--Oh, come on! I just made another kid cry!”
Eddie pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Chim. If Buck shows up, call me or the cap."
"Sure," Chimney says, brow furrowing. "Is something the matter?"
"I hope not," Eddie murmurs, heading toward the main building.
The big red barn is pretty packed. It's where the cash registers are for anyone who wants to buy produce or flowers from the farm, or tickets for the hay ride. He keeps an eye out as he works his way over to the bathroom.
"Buck?" he calls as he shoulders the door open. There's no answer, though, and the only occupied stall opens a second later. A teenage boy wearing an apron walks out, glancing over at Eddie as he walks to the sink. Eddie is about to apologize and leave when the kid speaks.
“Hey, are you looking for that other firefighter? The one with the scar over his eye?”
Eddie turns. “It’s a birthmark. But uh, yeah. Yeah, I am. Have you seen him?”
The teen nods. “I saw him going toward the cider barn a little while ago. Thought it was weird since only employees are allowed in there. Like, adult employees, I mean.”
“The cider barn?” Eddie says.
“Yeah, it’s the barn where they make the cider.”
“Where is it?”
"It's down at the end, kind of close to where the firetruck is, actually."
"Thank you," Eddie says, already pulling the bathroom door open.
It doesn't take him long to find the barn, set back a ways from the bustle of people. He glances around before ducking under the rope and breaking into a sprint. He gets up to the doors and frowns. They're padlocked from the outside.
"What the hell?" he murmurs. What was Buck even doing back here? Not going inside the cider barn, clearly. He decides to take a quick look around anyway, just in case there's something he's missing.
His phone buzzes and he pulls it out. A text from Bobby reads, Corn maze employee didn't see him. Any luck?
Eddie is tapping a response when he rounds the corner to the back of the barn. He glances up for a second, then does a double take, his heart leaping into his throat.
"Buck!"
Buck is lying face-down on the ground, and there's blood pooling on the ground underneath his head and covering the right side of his face.
"Oh my god," Eddie breathes rushing forward and crashing to his knees. He pushes the fingers of his right hand under Buck's jaw. With his left, he calls Bobby.
"Hey, Eddie," Bobby says a second later. "You find him?"
"Yeah, Cap. We're gonna need an ambulance and – and probably police as well."
"What?" Bobby's voice is sharp. "What happened?"
"I don't know, I just found him unconscious. Heartbeat's steady, but his head is bleeding pretty bad. I think--" He takes a deep breath, fighting back a wave of nausea. "I think someone must've attacked him. I need Hen and Chim here. Tell them we're behind the cider barn."
"K. We'll be there in just a minute, Eddie, hang tight."
The line goes dead and Eddie sets his phone down, turning his full attention to Buck. He puts a hand on his back and gives him a shake.
"Buck?"
Buck groans a little.
"Buck, you with me?"
Buck's eyes move beneath the lids, and then his lashes flutter, eyes opening a crack. He winces immediately.
"Ow. What happened?"
Eddie wishes he knew. "You got hit in the head," he says. "Do you know where you are?"
"I – uh...I don't know."
"We're at the autumn festival," Eddie says.
"Oh," Buck murmurs. "...With Christopher?"
Eddie's chest tightens. Shit. Buck is definitely concussed, but already it's worse than he thought. "No, no. Not with Chris. The 118 came to help out, remember?"
"Oh," Buck says again. And then, "What happened?".
"You hit your head, Buck," Eddie says gently.
"Eddie?"
He looks up at the sound of Chim's voice. "Back here!"
Chim and Hen round the corner, Chimney with the med bag in hand. His eyes widen as he lays eyes on Buck.
"Whoa."
"Hey, Buck," Hen says as she and Chim join Eddie on the ground next to Buck.
"Hen?" He sounds confused. "What're...what happened?"
"That's the third time he's asked that," Eddie says, voice low, and Hen looks up at him. Eddie swallows. "He's, uh. He's pretty confused."
"Okay," Hen says. She looks a little shaken, but nods. "Okay, Chim, let's get a c-collar on him, just in case."
"Did you see anything?" Chimney asks as he and Hen fit the c-collar around Buck's neck.
"No," Eddie says. "But this didn't just happen. Someone did this to him." Anger is starting to permeate the fear, a roiling heat under the bottom of his rib cage.
"God," Chim breathes. "Who'd wanna hurt Buck?"
"Guys." Hen's voice is firm, and though she doesn't say it, the meaning on her face is clear: Now isn't the time. "Let's get him turned over."
They get him onto his back, and then Chim pulls some gauze out of his bag and presses it against the long gash, a few inches above Buck's right ear. Buck draws in a sharp breath through his teeth, flinching away as much as he can with the c-collar on.
"I know," Chim says, grimacing. "I know that hurts. But I've gotta get that bleeding stopped, bud."
"I'm gonna take a look at your eyes really quick," Hen says. "Can you look straight ahead for me?"
She shines her penlight in each of Buck's eyes. Eddie watches her expression closely, trying to gauge how worried she is (how worried he needs to be).
"Pupils are equal, but sluggish," she says.
"M' head hurts," Buck says. "What's..." He reaches up toward the c-collar, but Eddie grabs his wrist.
"Leave it, Buck," he says. "You've gotta leave that alone until they clear you at the hospital."
Buck blinks slowly. "Eddie?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened?"
xxx
A/N: I actually started this one for Whumptober last year hahaha, this is not karma for what happened at the end of the premiere 😭
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achaotichuman · 1 year ago
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Could I humbly request tamlin x reader headcanons. Pweese
Your humble request is gratefully accepted. These little head canons here are gender ambiguous because Tam-Tam is for the guys, the gals and the non-binary pals.
(Also sorry for this taking so long, for some reason I didn't see it until a couple of days ago.)
It takes months to get him to warm up to you, but once Tamlin is comfortable he doesn’t hold back affection or warmth. He’ll always keep a hand on your waist or hip, just to be able to touch you. 
Tamlin will share everything he loves with you. Nothing will be fun anymore unless you’re with him. His song-writing turns into poems and songs dedicated to you. His fiddle-playing is always for you to dance to. He’ll always want to take you horseback riding with him. He’ll show you every beautiful spot in the Spring Court. They will become both your spots. 
If you’re away for any period of time, he’ll spend every free moment thinking about you, writing songs and limericks for you. He’ll hide them in your room for you to find once you get back. 
If you ask, he’ll teach you to play the fiddle. He may fear for the safety of the fiddle, but he’ll try his best to be constructive. If you make a particularly screeching noise on it, he may tell you your hurting the poor instrument. 
He’ll try to bring back lizards he found in the forest. If you tell him he can’t bring them home he will give you puppy eyes and insist they are lonely and need a home, (he’s already named them and gotten attatched, so you have to let him keep them.)
He’ll lay with you in bed on rainy days, his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. He will whisper into your skin how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to have you, how much he loves you. 
Any and all gifts you give him, no matter how small and insignificant, he keeps. They are all displayed in his office. 
He’ll dance with you in the rain. When the water soaks you both to the bone, he’ll spin you around. When mud clings to both your clothes, he kiss you deeply, unable to stop touching you, unable to be away from you. 
You two sit in his office during long work days. He’ll finish work at his desk, you’ll help him some times, others you’ll sit in the chair near him reading. Sometimes he’ll stop work just to look over at you, how the light hits the side of your face, illuminating your skin and eyes. He’ll be unable to look away, when you notice his gaze he’ll tell you how beautiful you are. He’ll say it like the first time every time. 
He’ll surprise you will dates out in the forest all the time. Using magic, he will create beds of moss under trees, with platters of cheese and fruit. You’ll call him a romantic sap and he will roll his eyes, but you’ll both hold each other and fall asleep under the canopy of leaves. (Once a very big spider crawled onto your arm, but don’t worry, his name is Kevin, Tamlin knows him, he is incredibly polite and friendly.)
If excited or happy, Tamlin will pick you up and spin you around. Kissing you all over your face, you will laugh and Tamlin will think its the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. 
He cannot flirt with you for the life of him. He tried writing down a list of compliements which filled three pages, both sides, but when he tried to tell you even one, he froze and just said he liked the way your shirt looked. To this day neither of you quite know what he meant by that. 
Rhysand once came to the Spring Court, he wanted to taunt Tamlin some more. You watched as he waltzed into Tamlin’s office. Before a word could leave his mouth, you snuck up behind him and hit him in the head with a frying pan. Tamlin had to quickly grab you and put up a shield before Rhysand could retailiate. 
You once mentioned offhandedly how much you loved reading a particular series of books. Tamlin went out and bought every single edition he could find, and had an artist paint a portriat of every character. 
You love a particular kind of berry, Tamlin loves them too. Tamlin pretends to hate them so whenever they are on your plates at dinner, he gives them all to you. He loves the smile on your face a thousand times more than that berry. 
Once you were injured so badly you were on bedrest for weeks, you were taken to Dawn as they have the technology required to treat you. Tamlin stayed by your side the entire time. When you told him he had Court to rule, he told you the Court could wait, when you pointed out that was not how it worked, he told you he ruled the Court so yes that was how it worked. 
He lets you braid his hair, you put ribbions and bows in it. Tamlin will wear the absurd hairstyle everywhere, he is very proud of your handiwork. 
Sometimes Tamlin doesn’t truly believe that he is capable of being loved. The insecurities instilled him over centuries of trauma lurk to the surface. When this happens you grab his face and practically yell that you love him so much and nothing in the world will ever drive that away. Tamlin has to stop tears from falling from his eyes. 
You both like to sit atop of a tall mountain, beside a waterfall, over looking the Spring Court. You rest your head on his shoulder, he wraps a hand around your waist. You couldn’t be happier, neither could he. You tell him you love him, he kisses you and murmurs into your mouth that he loves you.
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onenicebugperday · 2 years ago
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This blog is delightful!! I see so many new buggy friends every day now and it's lovely! I've always been a fan of an assortment of bugs (I was the kid who would spend all day looking for them instead of playing with the other kids, lol) but I've always had a particularly hard time warming up to the especially spindly and fast moving guys, particularly spiders (somehow, tarantulas do not apply to this statement, my beloveds) but seeing other people be enthusiastic or have neat bug stories has been helping. Are there any particularly "gnarly" (subjectively, of course) speedy arachnids that you wouldn't mind sharing?
(NOTE THAT NEGATIVE COMMENTS ON THIS POST WILL GET YOU BLOCKED.)
Oh, I can relate! I used to be an arachnophobe, and the very large, fast, and leggy ones scared the heck out of me. This is going to be incredibly subjective of course so I'm sorry if my definition of gnarly dudes doesn't fit yours! I'll also stick to spiders one might find in the US, since that's where I'm based.
And just a note that none of these guys scare me anymore! I've grown to love and appreciate all of them, so this post is in no way trying to shed them in a negative light. And none of these dudes are harmful :)
Giant crab spider (actually a huntsman, Olios giganteus):
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Look at that face and the cute little peets. Precious. Photo by deserts
Dark fishing spider, Dolomedes tenebrosus:
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These pals can get up to 4 inches across and are incredibly fast! Photo by jmcardle
Carolina wolf spider, Hogna carolinensis:
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The largest wolf spider in the US! Like the other two, they actively hunt rather than trapping prey in webs, so they're very fast. But look at that adorable little face! Photo by arcebianca0505
Giant house spider, Eratigena duellica:
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Smaller yet somehow more leggy than the others. They're harmless funnel weavers, but holy smokes are they fast! One of the fastest species in the U.S., as it happens. Photo by bryn_
And finally the large and leggy pantropical huntsman, Heteropoda venatoria:
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That's so much leg. Wow. Impressive hunters! They've been known to take down small lizards and snakes. If I could kiss one I would. Photo by mutolisp
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sehtoast · 1 year ago
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Pocket Pal (tiny!Homelander x OC)
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18+ | 2k | tiny!Homelander, micro/macro, oral sex, he gets wild with it | Fic Directory
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These stupid fucking super villains and their stupid fucking gimmicks!
Homelander is the strongest man in the world, and now? Now he’s lost inside of his own suit, tangled up somewhere between padding and fabric that won’t let even a smidge of light filter through.
It’s the sound of squeaky complaints that helps Ben figure out which sleeve he’s caught in.
The web-head arrived just as it happened. Some new villain running around calling herself Minimizer managed to pull a fast one on Homelander, completely shrinking his body.
“I’m going to ram through her fucking skull!” He shrieks, standing stark naked in Ben’s palm. His eyes burn with rage, and his fury increases tenfold when Benjamin giggles.
“Oh man,” the bug chuckles. He marvels at Homelander’s size. He runs roughly the length from the heel of Ben’s hand to the tip of his middle finger– maybe just a bit more. “You’re so tiny…”
“Shut the fuck up!” Homelander bellows, though his voice rings higher to the larger world. “It’s not fucking funny!”
Ben shakes his head, biting back a smile.
“Benjamin, I swear to fucking Christ!”
This was horrible. There was a crowd forming, and he’d fear for his real body being on every screen in the world if not for the way Ben shielded him with cupped hands. Everyone’s getting pictures and videos of his suit piled in the street, of Spidey crouched down, speaking to something in his hands. Any fucking idiot could put two and two together, and now the world will know he’s weak.
Homelander’s fury quells the slightest bit when Benjamin ruffles his hair with his thumb.
“Alright, alright,” Ben relents. He brings his hands to the neckline of his suit, allowing Homelander to crawl inside for the ride. “Look, we’ll get back home and see what the verdict on this is, yeah?”
He grumbles, but agrees. Minimizer had run off anyway, and this was only drawing out the public spectacle. Homelander watches Ben gather his suit and boots, and they take off together.
Dr. Edi, head of the medical ward, checks him over. She finds no humor in his condition, but reassures the both of them that Vought’s records indicate Minimizer’s powers are a temporary effect. Most of her victims are back to normal within five or so days, and all they had to do was wait it out.
There are no reasonable clothes that fit his tiny form, and his eyes burn a fierce red when Ben mentions those Barbie Ken dolls having stuff that might work. In the end, they both realize it’s easier if he just runs around naked.
Homelander’s entire schedule is cleared for his ‘recovery.’ Ben’s as well, especially once Homelander threatened to crawl inside Ashley’s head and piss on her brain if she didn’t free the web-head’s time.
For the duration of his recovery, Homelander rides around on either Ben’s head or shoulder wherever they go. And sure, he can fly, but he finds this much more enjoyable. It’s kind of fun seeing the world from Ben’s point of view, and he likes that he can throw himself entirely on top of his little spider and be held from head to toe. Ben has always doted on him, but he does so especially now that he’s tiny.
Homelander hangs on to Ben’s hair as the web-head makes them dinner. It’s the first time in his life he’s given a shit about cooking, and it’s almost hypnotizing to watch Ben throw everything together and make something out of nothing.
Benjamin makes him a special dish. All of his food is sliced and diced just enough to be workable for his little mouth. Sure, he doesn’t have to eat, but Ben always insists he does anyway. Now was no different, and it stirred something warm in Homelander’s angry little heart to know Ben cared enough to adapt everything for him.
They eat and conversate as if nothing is different. At the end, Homelander floats up to take his spot on Ben’s shoulder, leaning and nuzzling against the side of his neck. Ben thumbs at his tiny shoulder before seeing to the clean up.
The pair had to find a method for Homelander to take showers. Sure, he was tiny, but that didn’t mean he was going to shirk his strict hygiene routines. Flying under the stream of pelting water took more effort than it was worth, and it was far easier to let Ben hold him throughout the process. Scented products became a hell far worse than ever before, and Ben had to use only the special unscented soaps Homelander typically used on himself.
It took a whole debacle to realize Homelander was better off scooping shower product out of Ben’s palm instead of attempting a pea sized squeeze of product.
“Well, you’re definitely clean,” Ben had told him the first time they tried to pour soap into his little hands. Homelander had to be rinsed under the water after the body wash flowed too fast and drenched him. He griped about how humiliating the ordeal was for the rest of the night. If nothing else, at least Ben giving him a fully body massage as he lathered him with his thumbs was near fucking orgasmic.
Ben found that the best solution for drying Homelander after showers was to simply use a blow dryer. Initially, the two tried to just use a washcloth, but it was like attempting to dry off with a king sized blanket. Plus, the sight of Homelander pretending he wasn’t shivering from the cold was pitiful, so Ben picked the next best thing.
He liked it, too. Sitting under the current of warm air, not even caring how messed up his hair got. It felt so fucking nice to just lay back in Ben’s palm and let himself be spoiled endlessly. Lifting his legs so that the air could hit every little crevice on his body, chuckling at Ben’s own laughter at the act.
“I’m starting to think you like being small,” Ben teases as he fans the dryer back and forth.
“Maybe I just like when you spoil me.” Homelander shouts over the whir of the dryer. “Should do it more often. Like, way more often.”
He finds he enjoys sleeping curled up in Ben’s palm at night. It’s warm, and he can hug a finger or two if he’s feeling inclined. Of course, this opens the door for mischief.
It wasn’t a surprise for Ben when he woke to find Homelander humping against his middle finger. In fact, this was exactly what he expected. Wasn’t often Homelander could go a night without sex, and Ben imagined it would be no different now.
Homelander’s little groans were the cutest. They still carried that faint squeakiness that his tiny voice had, and he was certainly unashamed to let them ring free.
“Havin’ fun?” Ben asks with a sleepy smirk. “Can’t believe you got a new boyfriend already.”
“Veeery funny. Homelander leans his head back to stare at his little spider. “I dunno if he’s a keeper, though. Not a single hole on this guy to fuck.”
That earns him a sweet giggle from Ben.
“Lay back, then.” Ben instructs. He watches Homelander position himself just right, then juts out the tip of his tongue to ghost it from sack to tip. He hears Homelander hiss. “Too much?”
Homelander shakes his head and shivers. “More…”
Ben swipes his tongue a second time, laving over him with more pressure. He licks back and forth, feeling Homelander writhe beneath his tongue. It’s messy, and probably looks absolutely ridiculous, but John sings his pleasure louder than in any blowjob in the past.
“O-Oh, fuck!” He gasps, little hips thrusting up against the wet heat. “Mmph, god, so good! D-Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–” He cries out harshly as he spills, body locking tight and hot as each pulse of pleasure ripples through him. “Don’t s-stop!” He babbles over and over again, thrusting as little spurts of come coat his lower body and Ben’s tongue until he simply lays there limp.
After that night, Ben’s tongue became his favorite thing in the world. Whether that meant his little spider would curl it up into a hole for him to fuck or just simply let him straddle and grind on it, he fucking loved it. It wasn’t uncommon for him to float up and wedge between Ben’s lips, lower body trapped inside paradise itself as he was licked to completion over and over again until Ben’s jaw would hurt.
Even better than that was the time he discovered he could return the favor. It wasn’t hard to slink down Ben’s sleeping body and find just what he was looking for. He embraced Ben’s clit, licking the head of it on one side while rubbing his palm over the other. He felt every throb, heard every little clench around his love’s gathering arousal as he worked. Once that nub was finally nice and hard, he made his way inside Benjamin’s cunt.
What a gift it was to be able to writhe around in his slick, touching his walls, licking them, grinding against them. He was snug inside and used his flight powers to fuck his body in and out of the warm canal. Each time, he rubbed his palms flat against Ben’s sweet spot.
He could hear Ben groaning and could tell he was beginning to squirm in his sleep. He planned to finish the job before the sunlight could wake Ben first. Homelander increased his pace, fucking back and forth, body utterly drenched in arousal. The glide of his body against Ben’s walls stimulated him, and he found himself coming hard when Benjamin’s cunt finally pulsed around him, squeezing him so deliciously.
A hand was there to greet him when he slipped free, lifting him like a naughty kitten to be scolded for such mischief.
Though he actually received praise instead, much to his satisfaction.
By the end of the fifth day, he was back to being upset about his stature. It must have been at least every hour that he–
“It should have fucking worn off by now!” He says with wide eyes. “What if I’m stuck like this? Jesus Christ, what if I’m like this for the rest of my life!?”
Ben shushes him, thumbing softly at the top of his head. “Worrying is just going to make it worse, Johnny.” He coos sweetly. “I’m sure things like this are gonna be case by case, y’know?”
“Bring me back to the med wing,” he orders. “She has to fix this or–”
“She can’t, babe. Remember?” Ben settles his open hand behind where Homelander sits on his chest, wordlessly offering for him to lean back. “It’s gonna have to happen naturally, okay? She said it’s always been temporary.”
“D’you have any idea how fucking humiliating this is?” He seethes.
“I mean…” Ben arches a brow. “Kinda? I guess?”
��No,” he points accusingly, “you don’t. So stop acting like this is nothing to worry about!”
Ben merely lets him continue on his tirade as they lay on the couch together. Sometimes Homelander just needs to have a tantrum, and this is no different. The TV fills the spaces between his rants until he simmers down and sits grumpily with his arms crossed.
He grumbles, but eventually drags Ben’s hand to lay overtop of him for warmth.
They end up sleeping there for the night, and it’s peaceful until, out of nowhere, Benjamin is roused from his rest by a sudden pressure on his body. His eyes open in shock, ready to deal with an attack, only to be met with relief.
There, sleeping peacefully, is John, full sized and back to normal. He seems to have not even noticed the shift in his sleep, but is certainly elated when Ben wakes him.
“Finally!” Homelander grins, still stark naked and proud as a peacock. “Now,” he says, grasping Ben’s hand, leading him toward the bedroom. “We got some lost time to make up for, and you deserve a little something for helping me out.”
Much as he was thrilled to see John back in good spirits, Ben admittedly was going to miss his pocket pal.
Ah, well. Minimizer’s still out there, right?
Who’s to say there’s never gonna be a next time?
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ink4blotches · 2 years ago
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OTP
(Pavitr Prabhakar x You)
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Synopsis: You like Mumbattan more than New York, so you chill there often. And sometimes help your best friend out as Spider-Woman. But the people of Mumbattan think there's something more to the relationship of the two heroes.
"What does OTP mean?" Pavitr breaks the comfortable silence that had set in as we sat atop the tallest building in Mumbattan, staring down at the -very- busy streets below.
"Uhm..Only Thing Purple?" I guess, scooting over as Pav moves to sit next to me. "No, it means 'One True Pairing', actually." He states, showing me his phone screen and scrolling on Tik Tok.
The video consisted of a fight Pav and I had the other day with an anomaly. Specifically the part where I not so heroically got electrocuted because I stepped in water.
The music filled as Pav landed beside me, reaching out and putting a hand on shoulder. "You oka-" He got cut off as he was shocked as well.
"Okay why would someone edit that?" I ask as I read the caption.
Two dumbasses...literally made for eachother!!
"I know right? I can still feel the lightning in my veins." Pav shivers, pulling his phone away from me. "And there are tons of edits of us saying we're OTP." He concludes.
A second passes in awkward, notedly not comfortable, silence before a loud explosion came from the streets below.
Ah, back to work.
"And Look at That! Our very own heroes have swung by for a quick hello!" The reporter woman smiled at us as I wiped the dirt off my clothed leg.
I smiled back, instantly stopping once I realized she can't see through my mask. "Are you- oh wow, is this live?" Pav asks, waving at the camera.
"Stop you're so embarrassing." I judged his shoulder, to which he threw an arm over my neck and ruffled my hair. "You know you love me." He laughs.
"Oh, wow! That brings me to my only question...the public wanna know! Are you two an item?"
Not this again.
Before I can open my mouth to deny, Pav laughs.
"No, but...might as well do this now. Y- I mean, Spider-Woman. I love everything about you. The way you part your hair, the way you laugh, all the way to your face when you eat really tasty food. And as the months have passed, I realized that I love you. So, will you go out with me?"
I looked between him and the camera, then back at him.
"Nah, I'll pass." I say simply. The lenses on his mask widen.
"I'm kidding! I'm joking! Yes, I'll go out with you Paaaaa...l. Pal." I caught myself. "Oh, my god. Yes!" He tackles me into a hug.
"This is great and all...but can one of you swing this girl to the hospital? The ambulance is backed up..." A paramedic taps me on the shoulder.
I immediately throw myself off Pav. "Yes- of course I'm so sorry come on let's go girl." I grab the citizen, being careful not to touch her...ouch, really nasty arm and swing away.
It takes a lot of focus to swing through Mumbattan with a passenger, but I've done it a billion times. However, it's a little more difficult this time.
Since my heart won't stop beating so fast.
I sat in a chair next to one of the crash victim's hospital bed. The teenage boy hadn't woken up yet, and as much as I'd like to be with Pav right now, my duty as Spider-Woman is to make sure people are safe- even if they're not from my universe.
The boy suddenly stirred in his bed, which caused me to put down my phone. "Hey, you're awake. You got into a car crash. How are you feeling?" I ask the boy, who's hospital bracelet says Aarush. Cute name.
"Ugh...like shit. Who are you?" Oh damn I forgot I took my costume off. "Uh...my names Carly, I'm a med student. It's a whole program- don't even worry about it." I shake my head with a laugh.
"Oh, okay. Hey, look it's Spider-Man." He looks at the TV which had been playing the news. I looked up just in time to catch Pav(Spider-Man) catch my hand with a web after I fell off the bridge trying to keep a car up.
I should probably work out more.
I watch with a warm face as the entire scene from earlier plays out again, Pav wrapping me in a hug and me swinging away with a girl in my arms.
"Damn, Spider-Man and Spider-Woman are totally OTP."
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Lee dust and ler lust? Lust likes, making the mysterious cool guy giggle /platonic
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Tickle fic
Characters: Dust and Lust (not a ship)
Context: Killer has been annoying the hell out of Dust se he goes to Lust to have some calm and to relax, spoiler: he doesn't.
Btw I'm sorry for the long wait, i was not feeling very well these past few days, really didn't have the motivation to do anything even if I wanted to, so I'm only getting started now, still hope you'll enjoy it !
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Out of all the members of the gang, Killer was by far the most annoying, always talking, wanting to fight, moving, never letting the others breath... and today it was Dust he had chosen to be his victim, and since Dust really did not have the patience to deal with him, or else he would kill him, he simply decided to leave the castle and come back later.
As surprising as it may seem, his destination was Underlust. Not that he wanted to get laid, he just wanted some calm, and surprisingly Lust, who they called Sugar Plum, Plum for short, was pretty chill. He had his boundaries, respected the other's, wasn't overly dramatic and could have pretty good conversations with anyone. The good thing with working with the public was that he had a lot of social skills and could adapt to mostly anyone. So when Dust appeared by the door of his room, he greeted him with a warm smile.
- What is it for your service, dear ?
Plum would always give them sweet nicknames like that, and they never complained.
- Nothing, just needed some calm. Killer's pissing me off.
Plum chuckled a little.
- As always, well, make yourself at home.
He smiled, and watched from his desk as Dust crossed his room to go directly lay down on his bed, facing up. His room was heavily decorated with all sorts of posters, costume accessories, makeup brushes, and many more things, all in different purple and pink shades.
Plum got up to come next to Dust, sitting on the edge of his bed.
- So how was you day ? Apart from Killer, obviously.
Dust just shrugged.
- Boring.
- Nothing exciting ? And here I was waiting for some fun news..
- Nothing.
Short answers, Plum could tell his friend was grumpy. He always was.
Dust sighed, turning his back to face the wall. Plum looked at him, he couldn't let him be in a bad mood, what kind of friend didn't sheer up their pal ? Bad friends, and Plum wasn't a bad friend.
He turned to be right behind Dust, kneeling on the bed.
- I have a little French riddle for you, dear.
A mumble was heard from Dust, he was listening.
- What do you say when a French cat is stirring a pot ?
He asked moving his right hand at the same time to let it rest on Dust's side, making him flinch a little but he didn't chase him.
- I dunno ?
- A chat-touille.
Before Dust could process the answer he felt Plum's fingers digging in his side, making flinch and yelp as giggles quickly made their way out of his throat. He quickly grabbed Plum's hand to move it away but the skeleton in pink was quicker than him: he grabbed his arm with his left hand and blocked it against the wall in front of them. Another great thing with Plum's job: he knew how to hold someone so they won't move.
- I'm not finished, dear ~
He mischievously said, freeing his right hand.
- Well I don't want you to !
Objected Dust. But Plum obviously didn't listen to him, sitting closer to block him against the wall and slowly lifting the Dusty skeleton's shirt, feeling him tense and breather faster in anticipation.
- P-Plum wait-
He tried to beg but was cut by the feeling of a finger slowly tracing all the way up and down from his side to his ribs. Soon other fingers join the first one and started spidering ever so slowly all along his side. He used his only free hand, the one between him and the mattress, to try and muffle his giggles by pressing it on his mouth.
- You're so cute trying to hide like that the fact that you're just so ticklish.. ~
Plum teased, knowing he made him blush a bright purple. He kept on circling on his side, poking it from time to time, enjoying seeing Dust jolt each time, it was madly untertaining, and the sound of muffled giggles only encouraged him to keep going.
It was so soft, so slow, it was like torture to Dust, each time Plum gently spidered on his sides, going all the way to his tummy to circle his navel, he felt like it was too much and not enough at the same time. His tummy was shaking from his helpless giggles, making Plum chuckle sometimes, he was having fun at least.
- you know it is pretty rare working with people as sensitive as you, but it makes the work so much more fun.
- Sh-shuhut uhuhuhup !
He was so weak right now, he couldn't move, couldn't escape the wiggling fingers, couldn't use his magic without hurting Plum, which he didn't want to. He felt him scribble on his lower tummy right under the navel, and let out a squeak when Plum poked it, which he of course noticed and continued to circle around it, poking it every now and then. Dust was shaking all over his body. It was hell and heaven for him.
But what really signed up his death was when Plum grabbed one of his makeup brushes, the little one with really soft bristles that was just laying on the bed to softly brush his armpit, with his arm against the wall it was exposed just enough for the brush to get it. His giggles rose an octave as he blushed more.
- You're doing so well, such a nice little ticklish boy ~
He teased again, gently drawing little circles on his armpit for a good minute before going back down on his side.
- I'll kihihihill you.. !
He weakly threatened him.
- Not before I'm done with you.
He circled his way to his tummy once again, as if he wanted to cover every inch of his ticklish stomach.
- Tickle tickle, dear ~
He teasingly whispered in his ear, using the brush to tickle inside his navel, making him giggle and squeak helplessly. Tears were forming in his eyes, if he had known what awaited him he would have gone somewhere else, but it was to late now, and he was forced to endure this ticklish torment.
Finally, after five long minutes, Plum finally stopped, letting his friend regain his composure and letting go of his arm. Dust quickly put his shirt back in place and sat up straight, his arms around his belly as his attacker got up to put the brush back with the others.
- You know I really prefer you being all giggly than grumpy.
- Shut up !
Yelled Dust, hiding his blushing face under his hood, making Plum chuckle.
But he was right though, Dust WAS in a better mood, it felt good to giggle like that. So maybe it wasn't all that bad ? But even so, he would never admit it, he had his pride. At least what was left of it.
~ end ~
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prismaticpichu · 2 years ago
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An arachnophobic Zack watching in awe as Sephiroth, instead of squashing the spider he discovered in his apartment, gingerly releases it on the windowsill.
~~~
“Wow, bud…” Zack sounds almost sheepish. “I didn’t know you liked spiders.”
Sephiroth shrugs, a certain thoughtfulness in his eyes as he tosses the paper towel out. “They’re…. perfectly fine creatures.” Though he is admittedly fascinated by their webbing patterns, yes, he can’t deny that there is more motivating him than simply that. More plucking at him, reaching deeper strings.
A pensive, weary look crosses the warrior’s face, his gaze suddenly heavy with stones of the past. Somewhat faraway. Floating.
Zack’s sheepishness is eclipsed by concern. “Seph? You okay, pal?”
He can never hide things from Zack anymore. Not that he wishes to.
Sephiroth again shrugs, lightly huffing. “There’s countless people and monsters that have fallen by my hand. Almost all of them were in the line of duty. Against my control.” He glances at the window, where the spider has already vanished into the velvet night, free and safe and spared.
“I try to do right when that control is mine.”
Zack watches his friend for several beats, letting a swathe of silence stretch between them. And then he gets up, from the couch where he had taken cover, making his way across the room to pull his friend into a warm, proud hug.
He squeezes tight, a gentle smile pressed into the leather collar.
“…And they called you a Demon.”
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envelopesofbadluck · 1 year ago
Note
"I see you are back... I believe your encounter wasn't as good as you wished..."
*Solver was taking a cup of warm milk with honey, an egg placed on the table, wrapped in blankets*
@solver-frank-whmultiverse-au
It's alright me and some new pals of mine can just dump a bunch of spiders in the void
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sweetangelofdesirex · 6 days ago
Text
Release Me-Fix Me; Chapter 5-In Between Gazes
Author's Note: I am so sorry for how long this took me I have been working on it for days. Starting a new chapter is murderous, but I hope you like it.
Summary: They say eyes tell a story, that thoughts can transmit through a gaze. Hints of the past, and the reason why you came back.
Disclaimer: May get a little violent at the end. Your bouncing around timelines when it comes to the backstory. Also you are Spider, which is explained why in the 3rd Chapter.
If you are interested in reading the other chapters feel free to check them out I would greatly appreciate it.
Fix me, Release me: Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3 , Ch. 4
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In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by grass fields, a Victorian house sits alone with only the sea to keep it company. The grass sways to the warm breeze, tall and vibrant against the greying sky. I don’t know how I got here. There’s a road that spans for miles on either side, but I don’t know where it leads. Instead, I am just sitting on the steps of this beautiful wrap around porch, listening to the waves coming in. It’s rhythmic symphony calls to me “It’s all yours, pal.” I look up to the horizon, there’s a storm coming in, and it’s staring straight at me. I’m not scared though, I know it won’t hurt me not on purpose at least -I feel this calmness gently caressing me. The air is heavy with the scent of rain, and the wind is becoming wild. The storm will soon surround me, but I just become calmer..
In my restless dreams, I see that place. I feel you there calling to me…like you are right now.
Lost in each other’s gaze, I hear your whisper
‘I’ve missed you so.’
‘No. Don’t say that-please Pig. I promised myself, I would never come back here.’
‘But you did, you came back for da Pig. Cause you miss me.’
No, it can’t be true. It shouldn’t be true
‘Pig-‘
‘It is true. y’know it.’
My heart is in my throat, I know, I shouldn’t have come here- I know
‘You missed me, you missed Runt. You can’t do the weekday shit, hun.’
‘Yes I can…I came back because…’
The past was destroying what I had left. That girl had died that night, but she has haunted me with her dreams…and her heart. I did everything I could to move on; A career, a condo on 5th ave., a best friend, a man who looked nothing like you, and I sat on that woman’s couch talking, crying, pleading, searching for a way out, fighting for all of it.
"Are you serious?!-DERANGED!" I was in shock. In the end, it wasn’t enough.
"Let's just all calm down-the whole point of this is to delve deep into the layers of your relationsh-.” Her voice holds the wisdom of hundreds of saved relationships, but this time she sits on the edge of her chair. She’s been watching this train wreck for months, and she knows it’s coming to an end.
"Yes. DE-RANGED! Your mother said you were never the same after returning to America.” He runs his hands through his already slicked hair. A desperate attempt to keep his cool. “She said you were obsessed with fitting in with ‘delinquents‘.”
“Oh my god! Delinquents! What the literal fuck are you talking about?”
“OBSESSED with these wild fantasies-”
“No I wasn’t! I was never obsessed.”
“She said you couldn’t even think for yourself-” I cackle at the sheer stupidity-
“NO! You’re the one not thinking for himself- you take my parents’ word as law! THEY don’t know what they’re talking about. You don’t know. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT’S GOING ON!” -and to keep my rage at bay.
“Then why? WHY? are you like this?”
“Oh my god! Like what?! What am I like?! I am doing everything I can to save this fucking relationship!”
“Listen, I just want to know what happened?! What made you like this!” For once there’s a pause, a sliver of hope. He wants to know. The air is thin, pricking my throat as I try to breathe. If I said it, put everything out there, would he understand? I am so tired of holding on to it. If I told him would he comfort, would he…hug me?
“I-“
“Honey, maybe your parents were right-” This is the end.
“Excuse me!-What?! Again, NO! you don’t know what you’re talking about! They aren’t these fucking saints-“
“They love you! They want what’s best-”
“STOP! You know what this is? This is you trying to hide behind being a loving husband-or fiancé- when really you’ve been fucking my ‘BEST’ friend for MONTHS!”
“WOW WOW WOOW!”
“That’s why we’re here! Not because of my mommy and daddy ISSUES!”
“MAYBE! Maybe-but maybe I did it because no matter how much I’ve tried to connect with you-” A bird flutters across the window, and then another, and another-
“What?! Say it, say it , just fucking say it.”
“It’s like I’m talking to a ghost. I’m getting married to a fucking ghost! Even when you’re here, you’re not!”
“Or maybe you just aren’t seeing me.” -The birds are playing a game only they know, free and uncaring of the world outside of their own. They are happy and content, but I am here watching my life fall apart. My world.
“Right. You know what-I can’t do this anymore.” The face of his watch reflects the golden rays of the setting sun. “I-I love you, but-” He snatches his keys off the glass table.
“So…that’s it then?”
“What do you want me to say? I am fighting your past, your parents…you.” I catch my reflection in the window, a beautiful well-put together woman who looks like she has it all. Why am I like this?
“You’re right.” I twist the promise around my finger, but it slips off with ease. It was always loose.
“I know you can’t keep living this way. We can’t keep doing this.” He grabs my face, but I pull away. “Whatever is holding you back, you need to confront it.”
There’s nothing left to say as we gaze at the ring floating in his palm. A year and five months this April. It was a promise, something to show how far I’ve come. Now, I’m watching the door close behind him, only a glimpse of his pristine ironed suit to show he was here.
“Rick.” It’s a whisper he can’t hear.
He was right, I did need to confront it.
I take a deeper look at the man before me. I have missed him, but…”
‘I came back because I need to move on Pig’
“Babe?-Who the fuck are you!?” His voice raises in alarm.
“I’m in here.”
“Babe, Who the fuck is this?” Pig is unfazed by the growing aggression, to him, Rick is nothing. Anyone outside of us is no one. There’s something…uneasy, even sick about how undisturbed he is- how focus he is. Even when I look to Rick who looks like he’s ready to fuck him up-he is still like a predator waiting for the moment. Rick thinks he knows everything-
“Um-That’s Darren and this is Sinead.” - but he doesn’t know that I know how far Pig will go. I’ve seen how far-
Crack
I jump at the sound I remembered so clearly and my collarbone starts to burn and it’s like I’m there again. Dear God-
“I- I’m gonna’ be sick” Runt slurs as she rest her head on the table.
“Me and you, both. Pig, can you get the bucket just in case?” I avoid his eyes, the pressure mounting in my head. I grab a cup of water and some Excedrin, but there’s a strange feeling in the air- I can’t seem to get ahold of myself. My stomach stirs, twisting in on itself.
“Here you go, Runt. Should help.” Her hands fumble with the cup as she struggles to drink it. “Girl! How’d you go from drinking straight liquor to getting completely wasted on cheap beer?” She swings her arms around, making dramatic gestures, she is indeed wasted.
“I stoppppeddd-I’vent drank innn 3 years.” I pat her head, moving her curls out of her face.
“Good on you. Drinking is bad for you! Especially the shit you were drinking.”
“Straight rocket fuel.” We laugh at that. Those funny little memories we share, sometimes they’re the light in the darkness.
“Baby, can I talk to you?” Rick sounds more urgent now.
“I’ve got’er.” I jump at how close Pig is. I only take a glance up at him, but quickly come to my senses.
“Babe-“
“Ok. Ok. Let me get you guys some pajamas.” I rush into my bedroom narrowly avoiding him altogether.
“Honey, what are you doing? who are those people?”
“They’re my friends.”
“Friends? From where?” Oh God-
“From high school.” I say as quickly and quietly as possible.
“What? From high school? Hold on-wait. You mean the delinquents? The ones your parents talked about.
“Yep. mhmm.”
“And you’re letting them sleep over?”
“Yea…I mean they aren’t delinquents, one, and two, it’s still fucking pouring out.”
“Tell them to get a taxi!”
“No-I can’t. It’s too far and Runts fucking wasted. It’s fine! Ok? It’s just for one night.” I wrestle through my closet for T-shirts and sweat pants. There’s so much shit in here.
“This is a bad idea. One night is all it takes.-“
“Got it!” Holding the pants up, I wonder if they’re a little short for him.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yep. One night.” I turn to see his annoyed expression. “What do you think is going to happen? It’s fine. Tomorrow, they’ll go home.”
“Fine, whatever. But you know what that-If that bastard Darren thinks he’s-”
“He’s not going to do anything.”
“He’s a problem. I can tell. Him standing there all fucking smug just staring at you. Right in front of me, no hello, no name, NO manners.”
“Ok. Yea-No I agree. I’ll talk to him.” I rub his shoulder trying to reassure it’ll be fine. It will be me to cut the ties, this time it’ll be my choice. His face softens at the our contact.
“You know I was wondering-“ He presses his lips against mine “why you didn’t answer my text” another kiss “Now I know why.” He looks me in my eyes, and for once I’m feeling fluttery. I can feel my face warm up, and I’m feeling more hope.
“Spiiideer, I’m freeezin’ my ass off.” He grabs my arm
“Hey! Don’t let this go too far.”
Her soft breathing filled the quiet room.
In
and
out
It was a risk to be here with her, but desire was the devil on his shoulder keeping him up all night. He couldn't help himself, his heart demanding any glimpse of her he could treasure. The Moons’ soft glow dance through the window illuminating her skin. With each step, her features became clearer; her lashes fluttering as she dreams, her lips gently apart, and her chest rising and falling.
‘Beautiful-You’re beautiful, Spider’. Whispering as he laid his head gently on her pillow, careful not to wake her. He always wanted to be close to you.
‘Da Pig use to pray you’d drop your pen, gave Pig a reason to give it back to you, to touch your hand, y’know?’ He brought his face closer to hers, and thought back to those glimpses of time. How much comfort they brought him. In the beginning, he couldn’t stand her-no he fucking hated her. It had always been Pig and Runt, but she changed everything. She changed him.
“I bet you, I can make everyone’s head turn when I walk down the hall” It was their first day back to school, and she was already starting to piss him off.
“You takin’ a piss at me?” Runt was very amused, and that perplexed him. What happened to the playground promises, just him and runt huh?
“Ther’ aint no way” Pig added. “C’mon Runt. C’moonnn.”
“Hold’on Pig-“
“Yea, Pig, you don’t think I can do it?” God! He hated how cheeky she was and he hated how she called him ‘Pig’. Who the fuck was she? Just some rando who latched herself onto them.
“Just watch.” He hated the way she flipped her hair when she said it, and the way she winked at them before heading inside. ‘Fuckin’ attention seekin’ bitch’.
“Runt, let’s ditch’er.” This was his last ditch attempt to return things back to normal. “She’s a manky cess-“
“Shh. Don’t say that.” No matter the pleading, Runt was completely enamored, which made him hate her even more.
“Ok!” The stood at the entrance observing the jungle ahead. “Are you ready? Check it.” She was excited, it was always fun and games. It started with a small look, then a double take.
“What the actual fuck?” Neither one of them had seen this before, one-by-one heads began to turn. When she smiled, people smiled back. And wait-Did he?
“Look! Gerry jus fuckin’ waved!” Ugh! He fucking did, that mangy cuck! He looked down to catch the pure glee on Runt’s face. He felt uncomfortable, and before she could catch him, he turned his attention back to Spider.
Spider glided through the hallway, people made way for her and even the Sun favored her, its’ rays shining brighter than ever. He had never saw such a thing, and by the time she reached the classroom all eyes were on her.
“She fuckin’ did it. Pig! She’s fuckin’ deadly.” He couldn’t explain all that he was feeling, but as she spun around, he felt his body slow. Her eyes were soft, but her smile was wickedly victorious. She gave Runt a wink, but when she made eye contact with Pig everything became silent.
‘Oh and Pig, here’s big fat juicy kiss from an ‘attention seeking bitch’.’ and with a middle finger to her lips she blew him a kiss. He. Fucking. Hated. Her!
“Oop, she must’ve heard you”. Pig remained silent, and that made Runt nervous. Spider lived in an entirely different world, she made confidence look fun and cool- easy. She had never seen someone like her before, and that was…inspiring?
Entering the classroom, there was a surge of exhilaration.
“YOU MET ANGELINA JOLIE, OHMYGOD! I LOVE’ER”
“SAME!” Spider happily exclaimed. “She was soooo good in Tomb Raider, I’ll bring in a picture!”
He was grateful seeing people surround her, she could make some friends and finally leave them alone. Life would go back to-
“Yea, you’ll have to. Proof is in the puddin’.” Pig couldn’t help but do a double take. What was going on here?
“That’s fine! I got the pudding!” ‘That’s fine?’ Your voice…your eyes….the smile you’re giving him. That smile you’re giving him. That smile…you’re giving him. He couldn’t shake it.
“Guysss” Spider waved “I saved you guys seats.”
His heart felt heavy, if he had known…that that was the start of it all-
In that moment, the urge to wake her, to kiss her, to hold her- to beg her for forgiveness-was so overwhelming it could have killed him. How long would he have to wait? He felt like was suffocating from restraining himself, and now he had another problem. Dickhead.
Pig knew Dick would be back at any moment. He could feel it in his fuckin’ bones, and it pained him to have to rush away like a thief in the night. But before he did, there was one thing that he had to do before he left, no matter the risk, it would bother him if he didn’t.
“Why’d you let’em kiss your honey lips, huh, Spider?” He said wiping her lips with his shirt. “Don’t do it again.”
As soon as he reached the couch the front door opened, the timing was impeccable. He knew Dick would make his way to living room to check on them, Pig especially, so he didn’t bother hiding he was up. In fact, he stared straight at the doorway and watched as Dick came into view.
Eye-to-eye, no backing down, He wanted Dick to know, to remember no matter what…
‘She’s mine. She loves me.’ The air was dead still, only the peaks of sunlight lit the room, neither one of them was willing to move. Until Runt’s soft stirs broke the standoff. It didn’t matter though cause in the end, Pig knew that deep down in Dick’s heart he heard what the fuck he said and that it was only the truth. It would only ever be the truth.
The sun beamed through the living room to the kitchen, where Pig had decided to make some coffee and tea. ‘Sugar in the left cupboard, spoons in the bottom middle drawer’. He moved through the space as if it was theirs. He already had coffee brewing for him and Runt, but the tea kettle was set for her. This felt right-
“Oh! Making yourself at home I see.” The voice was nauseating, and he hated it. “What’s the kettle on for?”
‘It’s to pour it down your fuckin’ throat, you prick!’ these thoughts…he buried deep within. Can’t risk it getting out.
“It’s for Spider.” That was the best he could say.
“Who?!” Nails on a chalkboard “Oh ‘Spider’- She doesn’t drink tea, so there’s really no need.” Rick laughed with a renewed smugness, each breath was an air of smugness. Calm…calm…calm it down sweetheart.
“Mornin’ Pig!”
“Mornin’ Runt, here you go, a cuppa go juice yea.”
“Thanks, pal. Feel sick already.”
“Good morningggg!” Spider was gleaming, even with bags under her eyes and hair everywhere, he could take her right now. Right on this linoleum floor.
“Heyy baby.” DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ DARE-
“Tea-here’s your tea.” Pig interrupted-no, he would fuckin’ hurl. He can’t bare to see it, he can’t bear to hear it.
“Thanks. You remembered!” Their hands brushed as he handed her the mug, just like highschool with that glittery fluffy pen, it was always just a moment but just as intense.
beep
Pig felt a vibration
‘Darren, come home.’
“Pig, who’s that?” Runt always knew when something was up.
“Mum-she’s…jus checkin’ in.”
“Your mom, how is she?”
“We should drop in for a visit, maybe today.” Runt added.
“Awww! That’s an awesome idea-Pig ask your mom if we can visit today.” Pig felt nervous about that idea. It hadn’t been long since he got out.
“Actually-“ Dick cut in, clearing his throat “I have something I want to give to you.”
Slow
Slowly
Slowly Dick grabbed her hand.
Slowly Dick grabbed her hand and pulled something out of his pocket.
Slow-
Ly
And out of his pocket was a ring. A ring. a RING.
Slow-llllyyyyy and with this RING he slides it onto…onto her finger.
Ever so fuckinnnn’ slow-LY he pulls her in and he’s fuckin’ kissin’ her. He’s fuckin’ kissin’ her.
“Pig?” He could crack this kettle against his fuckin’ skull
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK SMACK, CRACK, CRACK, SPLATTER, THUD.
“I think we’re finally ready to move forward, you know to the next chapter.” He could’ve, but the way she looked at him as Dick hugged her, gave him new -stronger resolve.
‘You’re not happy’
‘Pig, please!’
‘Even when you smile. We both know it.’
‘Don’t do anything you’ll regret.’
‘You’re never gonna move on. You know why?’
Beep
‘Pig won’t let you.’
“She said ‘She would love to see ya’ even asked how you are.”
@mythicalcowboyatheart @onlydemonz
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avatarvyakara · 2 years ago
Text
Presenting the premier Addy Brock collection from Strands of Webbing!
Starting out with diversion of a canon event because, honestly, [bleep] that noise:
52. React
"DON’T!" she screams. But Ven#m is already halfway towards the M.O.R.B.I.U.S. device, a look of determination on its electronic inFace—
Until, with a grunt, all three point one five tons of SP//dr shoves the other mech out of the way of the beam of light just in time. A nearby building fuses into a twisted mess of metal and glass, like a Vonnegut crystogram.
"What the hell was that for?" comes the angry voice of Addy Brock from Ven#m's modulator.
"Rule number one on this team: you don't get yourself killed to prove a point!" snaps Peni.
Ven#m's inFace expresses strong shock.
"…we're a team?"
"I didn't say that."
That chirpy expression looks really weird in black and neon white. It probably doesn't help that the teenager inside has a much more…smug face, and that Peni can see both of them quite clearly.
"You implied it."
"Shut up. Now help me figure out this thing's weak spot. And don’t you dare die."
(Addy survives. But Peni's not sure, after the loud squeal at the end of the fight, whether her eardrums are going to last the week.)
60. Introductions
“You’re welcome to stay longer,” she tells Gray with a little hesitation, as they sit atop the New Chrysler eating putty-cakes from a street vendor below. “You could actually come over.”
His eyes shine, but his brow wrinkles—for once he’s got the mask off. He looks like Peter Parker. He looks nineteen. (Thirty. Eighty.)
“I don’t know if your folks would be okay with that.”
“You already met Addy.”
“Well, yeah.” Admittedly, she did threaten Gray with a fate worse than death and a mech. Neither of which seemed very effective to the other Spider, who had just laughed. One Saturday she’d be very happy to forget, honestly. (But he laughed, so there was some success that day.)
“I’ve been trying to explain this to them, the whole multiverse thing,” she says, and huffs. “They still think I’m crazy. Or that I’m lying and that I’ve actually just gotten myself some shady lowlife koibito to spite them.”
Gray’s face hardens. “If that word means what I think it means, then they should know way better.”
But it softens again when he looks at her. “But a six-foot-three-inch-tall nineteen-year-old with a face like a darned sock isn’t going to be much help to you, kiddo.”
“You’re literally from another dimension—”
“And I look scary. I won’t be making it easier for you on my own, not with how you say your aunt and uncle are. Maybe you can get Miles and Gwen in on this?”
She wants to protest, but then he says: “Maybe Ham and Peter too, Make an outing of it for the whole cluster. That way the others can distract them a little.”
“...I guess that makes sense.” He’s her best human friend, and she wanted to recognize that. But even so...maybe that would be better. She was able to pass off Miguel as a Mercurial pen-pal with a cosplay addiction (most Earthers will believe anything about the decadent and obscenely wealthy and more-than-slightly inhuman Spacers), but the rest are going to be harder—her black-and-white and cartoon counterparts especially. Telling the whole story, with proof, becomes easier if there are kids her age to help soften the blow. (Plus, Peter B couldn’t look threatening if he tried.)
Still.
“You’re not scary, though,” Peni insists. “Not to me.” She grins. “You’re too much of a dork for that.”
He squeezes her shoulder, and gives her a smile no less warm for being in monochrome. “Whereas you frighten the life out of me, doll.”
She hugs him. This time around, he doesn’t resist.
“...seriously, though, what’s in that crispy paste stuff?”
“Sun-fried seaweed, Mercury-style.”
“...it’s not too bad. Tastes kinda like latkes. Like a latke dough, but you can eat it.”
“It’s pretty good. My favourite’s yungay potato.”
“Ah, a lady of quality.”
She laughs at that.
80. Comrade
Adelaide Brock is fourteen when she makes her first two real friends. People who actually get it. Who understand the thrill of the ride, and the joy of the psychic link.
They have their differences, of course. Peni’s more of a drill sergeant in the field, always efficient, applying incredible precision. Addy’s always been more of a performer at heart, and her spider (her spider), Weying, seems to sympathize. Ven#m likes the spotlight, isn’t really up to just fighting and heading home, prefers to mug for the crowds and crow over a few muggers. (And occasionally fantasizes about trapping and eating the monsters they defeat like the oversized prey they are, but that’s spiders for you.) Maybe it’s showboating a little, but hey, if you have a ship, why not display it?
But at the end of the day...Peni saved her life. Soon after, she saved Peni’s. They’re a team. They’re actually talking. And she and Weying have been working together for ages now, and New York loves them. Life is good.
Now, if only Peni would actually let her know who she keeps talking to on that weird 2D group chat of hers...
170. Hardcore
“...until ultimate termination.”
Peni blinks.
“Are you sure we’re the same person?”
Other Peni rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Even if your SP//dr is a bit...”
“A bit what?”
“You know...impractical? For fighting bad guys?”
Peni frowns. “Mostly kaiju, actually.”
“You sit in a glass cockpit and punch giant monsters and somehow you’ve survived as SP//dr for...how long now?”
“Three years. How about you?”
“Two. ...oh, no, there is no way you’re older than me. You look twelve!”
“Uh...I’m sixteen.”
“Ah, Peni! I see you’ve met Peni?” says Ham, striding through the workshop with a sandwich and out the other side. “Have fun!”
“I guess,” mutters Other Peni.
“...Dad’s death still bothering you?”
“What? No, that was ages ago.” Other Peni sighs, which helps Peni feel less like yelling at her dismissive tone (which would be counterproductive). “Mostly it’s just the job. It...kinda grinds down on you after a while.”
“...I guess I can relate to that.”
Other Peni coughs. “So...you like listening to music while you work?”
Peni lights up. “Do I? Come on, let’s get the sound started. Have you heard anything by Karam Heiwa?”
For the first time in the entire conversation, Other Peni smiles.
“I can see you’ve got good taste.”
“It’s probably a Peni Parker thing,” says Peni, conversationally. “Gray’s stuck on swing, Peter B’s more Silver Age Electric, and Gwen’s into punk, but you just can’t beat KH for tunes to work with.”
Other Peni cautiously goes through the playlist on the holographic display, as though she’s worried about breaking something. Then her faces lights up.
“Hey, is this ‘Nuke-ular’? I haven’t heard this album in ages!”
...of course Other Peni would choose the most depressing song in the mix. Still, baby steps.
183. Talk
The first time Addy stops by the workshop when Other Peni is there, Other Peni is furious at Peni for suggesting she come and say hi. Genuinely furious.
The second time—after some prompting and a long discussion where Other Peni Parker cries for the first time Peni remembers—Other Peni is there to greet her.
“Uhhhh...Peni? Is that you? You look tired. And...older.”
“...hey, Addy. It’s me. This is gonna sound weird, but...I’m from another dimension and I just...kind of wanted to see you again.”
She sounds so tender.
Addy blinks.
“It’s okay,” says Peni, coming around to the front of the space. “She’s...a friend. Sort of. But you have to keep this a secret. This is beyond mech stuff, it’s insanely important. Swear?”
Addy nods, wide-eyed.
“Good! You two have fun!”
“Peni, you weren’t supposed to—” Other Peni growls, but Peni’s already wheeling herself out.
It should help. She knows it would help her. And she’s about 90% certain Addy will forgive her, and has fifteen different prospective options to hasten that process.
...figures that when she steps back in, Addy and Other Peni give her rather evil grins.
“You know,” says Other Peni casually, “the nice thing about being the same person? It means you’re already well aware of a fair few...embarrassing incidents.”
“...you didn’t.”
“Me? No, no. We just traded life stories. If they match up, it’s just a coincidence, right?”
Addy cackles.
“I’ve created a monster.”
“Aw, lighten up, Choking Hazard.”
“Adelaide Brock, you swore not to tell a living soul—”
“Actually I just said I’d only talk about it with you. And, well...”
Other Peni laughs.
(The sacrifices one makes for the good of one’s fellow Spiders...)
238. Rudolph
“If you think I’m missing this, Peni Parker, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Addy...I don’t know. I mean, yes, you got bitten, but...I’ve never met another Addy Brock out there. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Addy tosses her head back and offers her friend an easy grin. “Then I won’t get hurt. Simple as that. Trust me, Peni. I know when to pull back now.”
Peni sighs. “Fine. But be careful, right? Follow my lead.”
The red SP//dr enters the hole in space just before the black Ven#m does, and leads the way.
And on the other side—
“Hey!” calls Miles happily, coming over to meet them. “Glad you could make it!”
“...hi,” says Addy, blushing quite pinkly all of a sudden.
Peni rolls her eyes. “Excuse my friend. Addy, this is Miles Morales, Spider-Man. Miles, my best friend and coworker Addy Brock and her Spider Weying, alias Ven#m.”
“...how are you pronouncing that?” asks Ham. “Hey, I thought me and Mister Egg Cream over there were your best friends.”
Gray looks like he’s trying not to grin. Peni can feel a blush coming on herself. “I’ve got four best friends. Addy’s the only one you guys haven’t met yet.”
“Well, welcome to the team,” says Miles easily. “And Happy Hanukkah!”
(“Should I tell him you’re a Zuhariyya Muslim?”
“Nah, it’s okay.”)
297. Tea
“So, that’s one Earl Grey for Billy, one Boba for Peni, two Green for Hida and Other Peni, one Black for Cindy, one Lemon Grass for Roshni, and one Masala Chai for me,” says Pavitr, taking notes.
“I feel like we’re inviting stereotypes here,” says Roshni.
“I don’t reckon so,” Billy replies, preemptively reaching for the sugar.
“For Peter...coffee. And a reminder of what civilization looks like when you don’t commit blasphemy.”
Pauker glares. “I told you, that was in Boston!”
“And a Peppermint for Addy.”
On her shoulder, Weying the spider bounces excitedly.
“...no, Addy.” That’s from both Peni Parkers at the same time, exasperated in different ways.
“Aw, man...”
322. Mitosis
“Don’t count on it working,” says Other Peni. “And be careful.”
Peter cracks his knuckles.
“Just gotta give it the ol’ college try.”
And he walks up to the bulky form of Ven#m. Not as nice-looking as Addy’s, honestly. And a cannibal at that. Joke about it though he may, he doesn’t much like cannibalism.
Peter doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing, but there’s always such a thing as giving it the ol’ college try.
(Granted, he never went to college.)
—what are you?—
“Me? I’m just a good buddy here to annoy you into spitting out my friend’s loved ones.”
The capsule opens, revealing a tangled mess of cable-like tentacles that snake towards him.
—is Peni so desperate that she’s sending in cartoons to aid in her futile endeavours?—
—hahahaa—
—don’t make me laugh, little piggy—
—we are Ven#m—
—what are you going to do?—
—“huff and puff and blow my house down”?—
Peter pulls out the giant horn his niece Dahlia sent back from a trip to Switzerland.
“Something like that, yeah.”
362. Celebrity
Do I get one? I get one! Wheeee! ...um. Sorry. Anyway.
My name is Addy Brock. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for five years I’ve been one third of the one and only Ven#m. I’m from New York in the year 3150, I have a psychic link with a spider who lives inside the robot I tried to take for a joyride when I was fourteen, and my best friends in the world are Peni Parker and Weying, the aforementioned radioactive spider.
Pretty sure you know the rest. Saved the city, mugged for the camera, saved the city again and again, had a hundredth-of-life crisis during which I, uh...we don’t really talk about that. (I’m banned from Greater Peru until I’m eighty-five, on a completely unrelated note.) But I got back up. Also, I met an alternate version of my best friend who lost her me and really needed someone to keep her laughing. And that’s me. Addy Brock, clown superhero extraordinaire. (Peter Parker? Never heard of him.) Peni may be the OG, but I’m the sequel that nobody knew they wanted but now can’t get enough of. I’ve even been to Mars on business—you know how difficult it is for an Earther to get direct to Mars, let alone for a job? Usually they hire local, or take on seasonal workers from the ecoships. This is big stuff.
...but at the end of the day, I love being Ven#m. And...I like having friends who get it. I got randomly assigned a last name matching my closest genetic relatives, but Peni and her Aunt May and Uncle Ben are the first real family I’ve ever actually had. So guess what? Ven#m is here to stay, with the Parkers, in the Republic of New York, on Earth.
As long as they’ll have me.
(“Well, then, looks like even reincarnation won’t be enough to let you get away, Addy.”
"And when they get sick of you, me and my aunt and uncle and Other Addy will take over."
“Aw, you guys. Peni Parkers? Ultimate upgrade in superhero mettle. Besides yours truly, of course.”
”How modest.”)
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snacc-exe · 2 years ago
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a little warm up but it’s me and my pals spider-people 🕷️
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awakening5 · 1 year ago
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Experience OBV. also what's ghostflower?????
Oh Jess, my sweet pen pal. Clearly we need to talk more. Ghostflower is only the greatest most wonderful obsession that I wish I could spend hours and hours fueling. It is Miles and Gwen, obv!! Sunflower, Ghost-Spider. Ghostflower!!
Alas, we aren't here for Them. We're here for the old obsession, our babies. Enjoy this snippet from the spideychelle fic that has been 80% done for like a year. Experience
“I’m struggling to follow the logic of this movie,” MJ says. She shifts, and Peter temporarily lifts his hands from her legs in his lap until she settles back in place. “I’m struggling to understand why you would try to follow the logic of this movie,” he grins. His hands start gently rubbing her calves again. “I’m struggling to understand why you would choose a Fast and Furious movie,” she fires back. He chuckles and looks over at her. “I didn’t think we’d be watching much of the movie, honestly. But here we are, thirty minutes in, and you decided to lie on the couch, away from me. Instead of being close, where I can make a move.” She flushes. “I…shut up. I’m nervous.” “C’mere,” he says, and holds out his hand for her. She takes it. It’s warm, with little calluses where his webbing rubs against his fingers. He pulls her into sitting position next to him and studies her with too much earnestness for her liking. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” “Do you want to?” she asks. “Obivously,” he says with a smile, and fuck him for being so sure of himself and the situation, truly. “But this is new for you, and you’re deciding to experience this all with me instead of someone you really want to. I get it if you changed your mind.” “I didn’t.” His soft smile causes her to freeze and stare at his lips. Then he’s letting go of her hand to rest it on her thigh. And he’s getting closer. And the sound of the movie becomes white noise. White noise that will keep their quiet noises from reaching May. And now she knows why he chose this movie. His lips are gentle against hers. It starts just like their kiss that morning. It’s wonderful. The difference is that instead of pulling back, Peter presses forward.
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