#Margo kess x you

[xxoxobree]

Episode 001

This is a collab between me and @hiimayee 🥰 hope you guys like our silly little “show” 🫶🏽

Pack your bags spider crew and join us on a all new season of Spiderverse: Reality Rift. Join us as we gather a diverse group of strangers? and drop them into a luxurious mansion. Will they get along ? Or will they tare reality apart ? Find out as we meet our cast.

Miles Morales.

Wassup everybody, I’m Miles Morales Brooklyns one and only Spider-Man and I’m excited to be here , it’s gonna be weird with all the cameras but. *shrugs* Hi mom if you’re watching this. How do I feel about being in a house with the other spiders? I just hope it’s a fun time.

Hobie Brown.

Wa Gwan fam, Names Hobie and I’m just here for the absolute madness that’s about to happen. I’m not into all the cameras and the fame but they asked me and reh teh teh I’m here. How do I feel about being in the house with other people? *laughs* should be fun innit ?

Miles G. Morales

Yuuuurrrrr!!!! It’s ya boy , I go by a lot of names but you, you can call me The Prowler and I’m here to turn this house up. I’m definitely here for all the cameras, mayne I’m Handsome as hell look at me *smiles*, besides that it wouldn’t be a show without me. How do I feel about being in a house with other people? I’m cool long as no one touch me or my stuff and that’s all imma say

Margo Kess:

"aight so what i'm understandin' is ima be livin with three hispanics, two of them deranged, and a snowbunny? wow. this is gonna be hella insteresting. but yk whats good, it's m-a-r-g to the o in the houseee! !!"

Miguel o'hara + Hobie brown + Lyla:

"my name is miguel o'hara. i am spiderman 2099-"

"cut allat fuckin bullshit, bruv!! no need to be so formal this reality tv. oi ladies, don't get so invested in this one, he's a li'le bit of a bitch and likes to throw tantrums around teenagers. sad its one of his hobbies, innit?"

"LYLA CAN YOU-"

"uh oh, here comes your assistant."

"its hobie, can't do nothin about it."

Gwen “The Snowbunny” Stacy.

"name's gwen stacy! uhh, don't know most of the people here but it should be interesting. plus. im getting a little bonus outta this 'cause i'm homeless and all. also i heard there's another miles? sounds pretty cool in my opinion!"

Will the Miles’ Get along ? Is Gwen really a snow bunny. why does Miguel throw tantrums around teenagers? Find out in the next episode of Spiderverse:Reality Rift.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

A very Spidey Christmas - Margo

Pairing: Margo Kess x Reader (written with fem!reader in mind, but I don’t think there’s anything that restricts it to that?? idk) (Hobie, 1610!Miles, 42!Miles, Gwen and Pavitr are here too!)

Word count: 759

Warnings: Both Miles squabbling like a pair of toddlers, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, love) mistletoe, descriptions of a kiss! idk if I’m any good at it 😔

A/N: first time writing for Margo! Idk exactly how to write for her but I do hc that she’d be the best at calming ppl down and tries to avoid/de-escalate conflict as much as she can because it reminds her of her parents fighting 💔

In hindsight, maybe providing 5 spider-teenagers (and one Prowler) with an oven, baking ingredients, and your favourite sugar cookie recipe wasn’t the greatest idea.

Miles and the other Miles had “accidentally” thrown flour at each other more times than you could count, Gwen almost burnt butter (how on earth do you manage to burn butter?) and was in the bathroom nursing a small cut she had gotten while handling a knife, Pavitr somehow got baking powder in his nose and sneezed for 7 minutes straight, and you realized you didn’t have any icing sugar so you sent Hobie and Margo out on a quick trip to the grocery store.

Pavitr patted your shoulder gently, noticing your growing stress as you made sure the oven was off. A fire was the last thing you needed right now. “Don’t worry, they’ll be back soon- Miles, for the love of god! Aata phekna band karo! (Stop throwing flour)”

“Sorry!” “He started it. It’s not my fault he can’t take what he’s trying to give out!” “I started it?! Wh-”

“The cavalry ‘as arrived!” You looked up and sighed in relief as Hobie kicked open the door like someone straight out of an action movie, Margo close behind, her arms filled with grocery bags.

“You okay, sweetheart?” She asked as you went over to her, taking the grocery bags and kissing her cheek. “You look stressed.”

“I mean…” You vaguely gestured around the crowded kitchen, and everyone paused whatever they were doing to wave at the new arrivals. “But I know they’re all trying their best. Well, maybe not the other Miles.”

“Miles, knock it off,” Margo called out sternly, giving the one from earth-42 a death glare. “Both of you. I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. Okay, sweetie, what’s first?”

You got out your recipe, laying the paper on the counter and standing between both versions of Miles. Gwen got back from the bathroom at that moment, wrapping a sparkly band-aid around her ring finger. You must’ve looked really concerned for her, because she held out her hand to soothe your worries. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a flesh wound.”

“Okay, uh… Margo, could you get the baking powder, please? Don’t let Pav get anywhere near it. No, Pav, it’s not because you’re clumsy, it’s just… I just don’t want you to sneeze so hard that your nose starts bleeding. Gwen, can you handle the mixing bowl? See, Pav, you can find the spoons and help her with the mixing. Hobie, could you find the baking trays? Thank you!”

The next few minutes were filled with the sound of the baking spoon scraping the bowl with all the ingredients, Gwen’s occasional tapping with the wooden utensils (drummer’s instincts, she explained), and your instructions.

“Pavi, that’s not enough sugar. Miles - sorry, not you, the other Miles-”

“Milo,” Hobie helpfully added, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen island as he helped (1610) Miles make the icing.

“Okay, Milo - the heat’s too high. Gwen you’re not adding enough flour… Margo the recipe needs more baking powder or it’ll fall flat-”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Margo gently took your face in her hands, splaying her fingers across your cheeks and making you focus on her. She brought her thumb up to smoothie out the crease in between your eyebrows. “Shh. We got this, okay? You don’t need to worry. You’re stressing yourself out, love.”

“But I-”

“Look, mistletoe!” Margo webbed a sprig of mistletoe from the living room and pulled it toward her, attaching it to the ceiling above you before practically lunging forward and pressing her lips against yours, her arms coming to loop around your waist.

You allowed yourself to relax in her warm embrace, inhaling slowly. She smelled like a blend of buttery popcorn and car air freshener, and her lips were soft against yours and tasted vaguely of vanilla and oranges - a combination that felt all too familiar, for some reason…

“Feeling better now?”

“Yeah, slightly. Hang on, is that my lip balm?” You asked once she broke away to get some air. She gave a sheepish chuckle, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Noooo, it’s our lip balm now.”

“Listen, you two are very sweet, but if ya could go snog somewhere else that’d be great, yeah? I don’t know any first aid if ya catch on fire, and you’re very close to the oven,” Hobie interrupted, gently nudging you and Margo to one side and putting the tray of flattened cookie dough balls into the oven.

“British people are all so rude,” Margo stuck her tongue out at Hobie, whose eyebrows raised so high you thought they might reach his hair if he kept going.

“She’s got a point,” Pav chimed in through a mouthful of the first experimental batch of cookies - they had been burnt slightly around the edges, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Pav, my guy, you too?!”

@vhstown (dw u are a lovely britisher who is a wonderful writer and not at all rude 🙏 still on the fence abt absent father dearest tho 😞 /j no he is a very lovely and talented britisher too) @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @hobiebrownismygod @deritosmi @tatumis-a

[punkeropercyjackson]

"Hobie would be so embarrased to do cutesy things or be close to someone who does!"Oh my fucking god,shut UP-Not only does he walk around in lipstick and a crop top but he's also SpiderPUNK,not SpiderMAN.There is ZERO masculinity insecurity in him and punk isn't edgy for the sake of edge,it's about nonconformity and being yourself and standing up for people who don't fit in as much as it is direct action because you can't be anti-corruption and fight for equality by shaming people for being different from you in ways that aren't bad,that's dumb asf and misses the point!!If Gwen wants to do pastel transfemme things with him or Miles wants him to join in on sillykid activities or Pavitr has to ask him to give girl advice on Gayatri to the point it leads to him sneaking off on their date to help or Margo gets him a game emulator so he can play Animal Crossing and dressup games and dating sims with her or Peni needs him to take extra care of her post-canon event by making her feel like she did before with things like cooking her japanese sweets and giving her a lot of physical affection,then YOU BET YOUR ASS HE'S GOING TO AND LOVE EVERY SECOND OF IT BECAUSE HE LOVES THEM!!!!! Mans deadass canonically turns pink when he's happy,how tf do you get 'dosen't like cute things' from that?????Hobie's got too much street cred to give two shits about 'proving' to randos he's an actual punk,stop making him a normie because the only punk you know is that nigga from the Avril song💀

[moonyandrice]

if I see one more person try to demonize either Gwen, Margo, or Jessica for some STUPID ASS SHIT I might lose my mind.

Like I’m starting to get super sick and tired of all the lowkey misogynistic takes some of you have for these characters. Like you can critique a character without making them out to be a FUCKING MONSTER.

Firstly, what fucking reason do you all have to even HATE MARGO TO BEGIN WITH??? She did not do JACK SHIT. I know why. It’s because some of you IMMATURE ASS MFS cannot handle a female character interacting with a male character that you like. That girl was sweet as sugar for the five fucking minutes of screen time she had. AND DON’T THINK FOR A SECOND I DON’T SEE SOME OF YOU RACIST MFS YOU AREN’T SLICK BITCH.

Second, I get why a lot of people are mad at Gwen. I do. I was angry too! But I also understand. She is a complex character and I love how they handled all the mistakes and all the things she went through. But the way some of you treat her like she’s a SUPER VILLAIN?? Fucked up. Wrong. Ya’ll will take an inch of flaw and go a fucking mile. Some of you have written fics about her being a HOMEWRECKER?? Or just a MALICIOUS PERSON?? Like FUCK OFF. She actively acknowledges and condemns all her own wrongdoings. But ya’ll don’t wanna hear that. And it’s for the SAME REASONS that you all hate Margo. You fucking BABIES can’t handle when a female character BREATHES AROUND A MALE CHARACTER. Just say it. It is some PICK ME GIRL ASS BULLSHIT and if I have to see it ONE MORE TIME you’ll be finding me under your FUCKING BED TONIGHT.

And lastly, the way ya’ll hate on Jessica is just plain misogynoir. She did not do HALF the shit Miguel did and I see her get dogged on CONSTANTLY. The most she did was try to help capture Miles, and be like- mildly condescending. Miguel has done far fucking worse than Jess and he gets 10x less hate than her. For such a beautiful movie- I truly expected better. Absolute FUCKING CLOWNS.

[whaliiwatching]

no way!!! it's Other Characters!!!!!

[w33nies]

Qué Maravilla CH.13- 'Somewhere That's Green '

Previous Chapter Miguel O'hara x SpiderReader rating: E for Everyone bby warnings: Aplogies in advance for this shit is long as fuck. I didn't know where to cut it because I have attachment issues. hella use of google translates + angst, bad words + proofreader? I hardly know her summary: exposition + dramaaaaaaa

------------ Ch.13 - Somewhere That's Green -----------

Miguel O’hara could barely hear himself think. Odd considering how it was currently deathly quiet in the lab. This lab that was full of traitors and strangers. His divided attention was to blame for that. Here he lay on the ground, flat on his stomach mere inches away from the source of his plight.The stubborn walking, talking thorn that had been lodged in his side for the past who-knows-how-many-hours. Who could’ve predicted that this a short-sided, naive little boy would pose such an imminent threat to the sanctity of the entire multiverse? Or that just when he had him, things would go from horribly wrong to horribly worse. That at the most inconvenient time humanly imaginable Doc Ock, of all people, had to show up and. Or that when he finally had Miles Morales in his clutches, their tussle would send a multiversal-travel-watch tumbling straight into the hands of said super villain. (One that Hobie had brought with him, he thought to add. So really it was his fault, not Miguel’s for manhandling a teenage boy ). 

Of course. Of course. Of fucking course. Just what he needed. More fuel for the fire that was his scalding migraine. 

Notice how he said more. There would be no inferno to contribute to if it weren’t for his second conundrum…

Miguel was off his rapture and his body was not about to let him forget it. How long ago was it since his last dose? He holds his head in his hand as he strains to do the math in his head. Though quickly gives up. It simply didn’t matter anymore. ‘Too long’ was the only answer his brain could muster through the mental fog. His head hurt so much that it practically blinded him. His body burned. Like he was sitting in a vat of lava as it slowly ate away at his muscles. He feels his forehead to confirm his suspicions. It was so hot you could practically fry an egg on that thing. When he pulls his hand away he finds palms drenched. Has he always been this sweaty? He couldn’t stop panting like a dog in a boiling car. How embarrassing. He attempts to steady himself with both palms on the ground, but finds his arms trembling as he exerts all his strength just to hold himself up. 

God was Miguel tired. As a result he was succumbing to his spiraling emotions, further exasperated by the ever raising stakes. Logic and reason were slowly giving way to rashness and impulsivity. Even the proud man could admit that much to himself. There was no doubt about it. 

Miguel O’hara was slipping.

Is this what dying feels like? He’s pretty sure this is what dying feels like. 

“Oh where are my manners?” Jonathon turns to the group of heroes, who have all now hastily pulled on their masks at the sight of the Doctor. 

“Everyone, this is Dr. Olivia Octavious. She’s the head scientist and CEO of Alchemex.” Jonathon proclaims proudly, barely able to contain his excitement in his lanky, beanstalk like body.  

“She oversees the atomic research division here at. The greatest mind New York has to offer. You should know that she got hired as lead nuclear physicist  at the age 23! After she graduated top of her class at-”

The woman raises her hand to stop him. 

“-Jonathon. Jonathon. We've been over this. Liv or Olivia will do. Thanks for the glowing introduction nonetheless,” she chuckles pridefully “I should really have you open for me at my next conference.”  The woman’s eyes shift to the feeble puppy in his hands, her gaze grows distasteful. She forces a smile through clenched teeth. 

“And how did this little...bundle of joy fall into your hands.” 

“Oh! That’s because of this bright young man over here.” Jonathan points to Miles Morales of Earth 1610, who is now shoving Miguel further away from him in order to come to a complete stand. 

“Doc- I mean Olivia, I know you’re close with Mac Gargan, but you should know there are some egregious animal right violations happening under his-”

“-Jonathon!” 

The distorted robotic tone catches the scientist off guard. He turns towards the source, Miles G. Morales of Earth 42. The boy loudly clears his throat, swiftly swiping his hand back and forth in front of his neck. The unspoken message is clear, ‘STOP TALKING.’ The move causes Dr.Octavius to raise a brow. 

“Don't worry guys, it’s okay!” Jonathan places his palm over his heart in earnest. “She’s one of us. I can personally vouch for her.” 

“I know. Can you just …stand over here please?” Miles-42 requests. The others hum and nod their approval, motioning for him to back away. The scientist cocks his head, not dissimilar to the manner of a confused puppy. 

“What? Why? I don’t understand.”

“You and I are both Jonathon.” Ocatavious frowns as she clutches the device closer to her person, calmly striding towards the heroes. She stops just short of Miles- 42 and glares with newfound interest 

“We meet again Prowler. Though, I can’t say it’s a pleasure.” 

“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.” 

“Hmm,” she hums through her displeasure. “I take it you're the one who led this group of-” she takes another disgusted look at the spiders “-foolish goons into my lab? Or do you have another lame excuse for me?”

“Funny thing, actually!” Gwen interjects with a nervous laugh. “We were actually just, uh, we were actually just heading out!” 

“You are?”Jonathan and Prowler say in unison. Though only Jonathon’s disappointment is evident

“Oh, were we now?”  Miles-Spiderman mumbles to aloud sardonically.  

“Yep! Oh yeah! Totally! We just need uh …” Gwen points towards the watch “...that and then we’ll be out of your hair!” 

Olivia scoffs incredulously, “All of this over a watch? You’re going to have to do better than that.” Octavious secures the gadget to her wrist and promptly starts fiddling with its interface. “What? Is it going to do? Allow me to walk on water? Teleportation? Or will it give me the winning lottery numbers for tomorrow?”

The entire room is inundated in an uproar. “Wait! Stop! NO! NO! NO!  Don’t-”

All interjections cease as the air around the doctor suddenly warps, giving in to conjure up a portal. 

Olivia stumbles backwards “What in the world?

Before her is a wormhole of sorts. Made of luminescent levitating rings. Each layer looking as though it’s been shoddily cut out from a punk rock magazine. Her breath is heavy and shaky as she creeps towards the oddity. She tentatively puts an arm in, pulling out immediately in response to the odd sensation that ensues. Olivia studies her test arm carefully, flipping it front to back as she wiggles her fingers. It seems…normal. 

She then takes a step in. 

“NO!” 

Everyone yelps as they leap to action. You find yourself in front, running forward to grab her but missing by a mere milliseconds as she and the portal disappear in a flash. You end up clumsily wrapping your arms around thin air, looking down at your empty hands dismayed. Before you can even consider your loss, you’re immediately tackled from behind by the spiders who have also hastily ran forwards with reckless abandon. The only ones spared are Penni, who's robot comes to a screeching halt just a hair shy of the collision, and Peter who braces himself with his hands outstretched against the bodies. May Parker gurgles happily from the safety of his chest, finding excitement in the frenzy. You, Noir, Margo (Spyder-Byte), Gwen, Miles-1610, Porker, Hobie, Pavitir and even Miguel aren’t so lucky. Finding yourselves collapses on the floor in a miserable dogpile. You all groan in pain. 

Suddenly, a slight buzzing noise can be heard from behind. Everyone abruptly extract themselves from the onslaught to whip around just before another portal shows. The doctor comes. 

“WOW! Was that- Did I just-” She fumbles over her words, starstruck. “There were so many channels! So many alternate timelines!  And I was in Brooklyn but not this Brooklyn, of course. I saw the future. I saw the past. This is-” She pauses to stare at the watch in astonishment before looking at the scientist in awe. 

“-A device for dimensional travel? Jonathan? You made this?” 

“I wish. It was all from these guys.” He says as he points with his thumb at the spiders. 

“I see,” she pulls her wrist closer to her chest territorially. “I think I’m going to hold onto this if you don’t mind.”

“Actually we do mind.” Miguel strides forward, holding his hand out for the device. Olivia just stares at his open palm and laughs.

“I mean, It would be a shame to let such science go to waste. Science is a collaborative sport after all. ” 

Miguel utters a deep guttural sigh. “Ay dios mío lady. Look, I really don’t have time for this. I need to get home and I’m going to let you in on a little secret as to why. In case you haven’t noticed…” Miguel makes a sweeping gesture to the glitching nonsense that litters their surroundings,“...The entire multiverse is in imminent danger and I am the only one here who’s even remotely willing to stop it.” He turns around to the group, but he only looks at you.

 “It doesn’t have to be that way though.”

You’re unable to gauge his facial expressions for the mask. And it's a struggle to discern whether he’s singling you out as a cry for help or because of his anger. It seems he is scrutinizing you in the same fashion. The prolonged gaze you share as you both work to decipher where your relationship stands.  In the next instant, O’hara abruptly clears his throat and returns his attention to Dr.Octavius. 

 “You can play a part in not only saving your universe, but everyone else’s. Not only for every person in this room, but for everyone and everything you care about. Please.” She continues to stare at him, unmoved. He brings his open palm closer to her with emphasis. 

“If you don’t give it up I’ll have to take it from you. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. ”

“Hmmmm.” She pretends to ponder his offer, theatrically tapping a finger against her chin. “Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy…” 

She directs her comment towards shadows behind her. 

 “...Isn’t that right,  Mr.Gargan?’ 

It’s low, gruff voice responds. One laced with a thick Spanish accent. “Así es doctora.” 

Miguel groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, Tienes que estar bromeando.” 

Slow mechanical thuds precreed the man before he steps into the light. What emerges is man or a… cyborg of sorts.  Apart from his steel legs, each technological addition was decidedly non-human. His left arm was replaced with a metal lobster-like claw, and from his back a massive scorpion tail with a stinger that sits high above his head. All of which were composed of a series of mechanical plates, colored in a shade of green so dark it bordered on black. His human real estate was littered with dark tattooed markings, like the kind you would find on a poisonous insect, trailing from the bellybutton to his neck. His buzz cut head is the only unaltered part of him. (You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you or not, but the markings appear almost…fluorescent in the dingy light.) To top it all off, he sports a black leather jacket with metal spikes and ripped denim shorts that stop at the knees. 

 “Aye dios mio.” The man huffs, lifting up his giant Spruce colored leg to kick a piece of the rubble off his path.  

“Look at all the mess.” He lets his arms fall limply to his side in exasperation,  pausing to cast a scrutinizing eye to the intruders. The sea of spider emblems and distinctly colored morph suits mar his rough face with distrust. He laughs scornfully at the sight. 

“I don’t suppose these are any of your men, Sergei?” he speaks towards the entire room, though clearly not talking to any of its occupants. 

 “Hah! You are correct bug.” The deep, husky voice responds from the cover of the shadows. Its tonality being distinctly Eastern European.

Scorpion scowls,  “I told you not to call me that.” 

The disembodied voice emits a deep booming laugh. 

“It is true, no?”

The voice’s holder presents himself to be a large imposing man, easily surpassing Gargan’s towering frame by a good several inches. His long dark hair slicked back to reveal a striking face, complete with an unruly, yet maintained full beard and mustache. He sports a vest of his own. Though his is composed of both brown leather and gray steel. The collar is fully lined with animal fur, almost mane-like with the face of a lion etched onto its front. On his hairy chest rests a necklace made of large beast-like teeth. Long metal wrist cuffs cover his forearms, adorned with bones. In a similar fashion, small animal skulls cover his knees and elbows like braces, secured with an abundance of twine. His cargo pants are held up with a well equipped utility belt, including a pair of excessively large knives that sit atop hip. 

“No. That is in fact not true,” Scorpion asserts defensively. “You have disappoint me, Kraven. I thought  feral swine such as yourself would know all of the laws of nature.” 

“What is it I call you then? Insect? Worm? Vermin?” The bearded man jests, struggling to contain his amusement. 

“NO! Scorpions are- they’re- I don’t know-” 

Kraven roars with laughter, courteously patting the bumbling Scorpion on his back as he strides forward. Leaving Gargan a stuttering, angry mess behind him. 

 Sergei takes a big, dramatic whiff of the air as he leisurely strolls around the room. Eyes closed and arms ever so slightly stretched out as one would do when inviting the sweet comforting sensation of sunlight. After making his rounds, he kneels to methodically run his fingers over the claw marks embedded in the ground. (Battle marks. From a beast perhaps?)  

He diligently digs through the slew of rubble, pausing abruptly in it’s midst. He yanks a thin cable from the debris with a snap and inspects the gadget on his open palm. He scoffs, shoving the mystery contraption  in his pockets. 

 He feels around the leftover spider web residue, which leaves a sticky substance on his thumb and forefinger. He finds himself pinching them together then pulling them apart with decent resistance as if dipped in a strong adhesive. 

Finally, small crimson drops on the ground catch his eye. He lightly dips his hand in the substance, admiring the way it sits on his fingertips. (Fresh blood,Superficial wound). First he brings his fingers to his nose to smell. (Metallic,Type: O+) Then brings the substance to his mouth and tastes. The room is full of audible gags as the man smacks his lips thoughtfully. 

(Human blood, Zero traces of drugs).

“Hmmm. I see…” Sergei mumbles to himself

Kraven gradually rises to his feet, unsheathing a large silver knife from the holster on his belt. He wipes off the damp stains of its previous use against the fur of his vest. Though he only succeeds in decorating the blade in faint red streaks. 

“And what do you see Kraven?” Octavious asks like a teacher to a child, her head tilted amusedly with fingertips pressed firmly together.

Sergei brings a finger to his lips with a ‘shhhhh’ as he holds up the mic wire. A slight smile appears on his lips.  “You have been…compromised.” 

“Ey!?” Scorpion exclaims, baffled. 

“Impossible,” The doctor derides. “Are you sure it’s not one of ours?” 

“Positive.” Kraven shoots a stink eye at the spiders and the Prowler.

“That has nothing to do with us.” Miles-1610 insists, with a wave of his hands. 

“I’ve literally never seen that before in my life,” Pavitir affirms with a palm to his chest and a shake of his head.

“Wired mics are so last century,” Margo quips with crossed arms. 

 “Maybe, ” Kraven says unconvinced. “But this…” The main points to the small details in the wreckage with his knife (outside the glitching, interdimensional, warped madness), “...This is the remains of battle and a fresh one at that.” He lifts his stained fingers, further emphasizing his point. 

“All these damages, but few casualties…” he thoughtfully rubs his tinted digits together.  “These will serve as formidable opponents.” He points his imposing knife towards Miguel, a sinister smile tugs at his lips.

“Leave the big one for me. I’'ve been looking for a new trophy to decorate my walls.”

Miguel O’hara frowns under his mask, straightens his posture to maintain his intimidating frame. You notice his legs slightly tremble under the stress. 

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to keep looking,” he huffs weakly. Without thinking, you briskly walk to his side and wordlessly steady him with a hand on his back and his arm strung around your shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but you’re sure him squeezing your bicep is his way of saying thank you. 

The man cackles loudly. He quickly resumes his demeanor with a satisfied sigh, using his blade to casually pick at the dirt underneath his nails. 

 “Do not let my appearance of youth fool you child. I have been on this Earth for over seventy rotations. And in that time I have struck down many men. Women. Children. Even my own father. Believe me when I say, countless have stood before me as you did, claiming to be the ones to end my carnage. But alas…” The man reaches across his body and unsheaths another massive knife from it holder

“...No one has managed to escape me yet.” 

The Hunter makes a show of twirling the blades at dizzying speeds with ease before seamlessly transitioning to his true fighting stance. 

“Allow me to show you why.” 

 Olivia clears her throat loudly. “Now,  Now, Kraven..” 

The rugged man mumbles a series of curses in his native tongue, rolling his eyes as he begrudgingly turns his head around. “Now, now what woman?” 

“Let’s hold off on the violence for now. I believe It’s imperative that we…” she pauses as she considers her choice of words“...gather Information.” She taps on the interface of the watch she holds hostage. “I myself have some questions I would like answered. The fight comes after.” 

“What good is information for me?” Kraven opens his vest, showing off a sash with numerous vials of bright green serum vials that sit just above his right hip. Rapture vials. Miguel stiffens at the sight, it takes everything in him not to pounce on the man right then and there. 

“With this, I take down whole army if I want to. What use is negotiation to one with power? You ask me to waste my time?”  

“I…Have to…I need to…Get. That.” Miguel murmurs in shaky breaths, jutting his chin towards his drug of choice. 

“Miguel. No.” You whisper back vehemently, “What if it’s not the same? How do you know it won’t kill you?” 

He only responds in desperate pants. His eyes glued to the small ampoules of bright green. 

“Part of the hunt involves strategy.”  Olivia reprimands sternly. “With a name like ‘Kraven the Hunter’ I figured it was you whole M.O. but well, maybe all those enhancements I’ve been giving you have gone to your poor little head.”  She provokes with a condescending laugh.

“You dare to lecture me about strategy?” Sergei snaps with a scowl that bares his front teeth. “I have tamed nature itself. I am on the verge of conquering the human will. Soon enough, once this city of fools chose me for leader, no?”

 “Sí claro,” Scorpion scoffs. “Only because I pull the strings for your little campaign.” 

“We pulled.”  Doc Ock corrects, shooting a stink eye at Gargan before continuing. She purposefully  talks lower now so the others in the room have to strain to hear. “And if you want to keep it that way, you’re going to do what I tell you to. You know why? Because you’re replaceable. I can make any puppet I want into the Mayor. You know that right?” 

“Puppet? Oh, no no  no. You are mistaken.”  Kraven opens his mouth for further retort, before shutting it soon after. He strokes his beard with an exaggerated sigh. 

“Well, I guess this puppet will have no choice but to go to the press. Tell them about everything, they’ll listen to anything I say. You know that… right?”

Olivia frowns for a minute before relenting. “Fine. For now.” She closes the gap between them to loudly whisper in his ear. “Just know if you speak to me like that again, I’ll put you down like the dog you are.”

 “Only a fool such as yourself would try and teach a learned one.” Kraven growls in her face. 

“Speaking of a perro,” Scorpion digresses, pointing at the dog in Jonathons hands. “That belongs to me.” 

The scientist pulls the pup away “Uhhh. I-I don’t think so?” he sputters nervously. 

“Don’t be estúpido princessa. Look under the ear. What do it say? Something like, subject -24DD huh?” Jonathon checks the flap under the ear. Sure enough, in purple faded ink ‘subject - 24DD.’ 

The clawed man smiles knowingly, “That means it’s mine.” 

“NO! You’re going to kill him!” exclaims Jonathon, retreating further away . The Prowler subconsciously inches toward the confrontation out of alarm. 

“Kill him? Of course not. It’s too valuable to kill.” 

Jonathan doesn’t budge despite his survival instincts going into overdrive. He can feel the dog tremble and whimper in his arms. “He’s not an it. You’re- you’re sick, you know that?”

“I’m sick? Imagine me. Sleeping at home asleep in soundly in bed only to be woken up by so many alarms that I think I in the Purge. Only to see that some morons  not only have trashed my lab-” 

“-our lab-”  Octavious interjects. 

“-but you have also cut power to my testing area and released and kidnapped my test subjects.” 

Miles sucks on his inner cheeks, puckering his lips with regret. He re when he threw an electric charged punch to the control panel to free the animals. ‘Damn,’ he silently curses ‘Maybe I probably should’ve been more careful.’ 

“Well I say good!” 

“Well, what do you rather do huh? How about you get dog and I get the pig to use?” Gargan laughs loudly at his own proposition. “It has been long  while since I’ve had any pork.” 

“You don’t deserve pork!” Porker cries, jumping onto Noir’s shoulder for higher ground and shaking his tiny fist in the air

The hunter chuckles as he reclines on a pile of debris, nonchalantly scraping at the excess calluses on his hands 

“Your pleas of mercy amuse me. Tell me, does the mutt not have worse chance if outside in the city? Isn’t it a… how-do-you-say-in-English,” Kraven twirls his knife as he translates the words in his head. “...Ah! It is a natural selection, no? Here at least we concoct plan to make him stronger. A beast worthy of the hunt. An valuable tool for war.” 

Olivia sighs unenthusiastically, “I hate to agree with him but does have a point Jonathon.” 

“Dr.Octavius!!!” 

“Would you prefer we use human subjects? Would you volunteer yourself or your family for such a cause? ”

“Well- I mean-no-” Ohnn stammers “But that doesn’t mean someone else won't! I mean-” 

“-Jonathon we all have to do unsavory things sometimes for the sake of innovation. The Sciences require, for lack of a better word… sacrifices, Mr Ohnn. Sometimes it’s time, sometimes it’s money, sometimes it’s lives. Most of the time, it’s all of  the above. It is a necessary evil, but the ends justify the means.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, putting on her best display of sympathy. 

“So please Mr.Ohnn, give Gargan his dog back.” 

Scorpion walks towards Jonathon, arms outstretched ready to receive, but Jonathan once again turns away 

“No me pruebes, cabrón.” Scorpion threatens with narrowed eyes

Jonathon looks down at the puppy in his arms. He’s shocked to find that at some point in the chaos, the dog has fallen asleep. It’s bandaged eye nestled in the crook of his neck as it snores softly. He mulls over his options with the creature in his sights. Giving up the pup was a guaranteed death sentence, but what would they do to him? Sure they had them outnumbered now, but there was always after. After everyone left. After everyone goes home to their respective lives and he’s left to his own devices. What would they do to him once wasn’t protected anymore? What about after?  Nobody ever thought about it after.

 Jonathan Ohnn exhales the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His shoulders relax as he closes his eyes. This headstrong meekness of his  was exactly why he had a hit out on him in the first place. He was already a dead man walking. 

But if he is going to die regardless, he’d rather dig his own grave then be left to rot. 

“No.” Jonathan finally asserts. Under the villains’ vicious gazes the scientist immediately shrinks into himself. 

“I’m sorry but I-I can’t give him up. You can’t have him.” 

Olivia Octavious scowls. “Jonathon, you have a bright career to look forward to. I’d hate to have to take… disciplinary action over a mutt.” She laughs, the notion sounding ridiculous even to herself. 

Jonathan takes a nervous gulp. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you hurt another animal.” 

Prowler now stands right at Jonathon’s side. Miles and all other spiders circle closer behind them.. 

Olivia’s eye twitches fervently, “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Nope.” Prowler holds the briefcase up high in the air and pulls out one of it’s brightly colored vials. 

“Missing something?” 

Octavious' face turns vicious. “Why you-” she tries to grab it but halts at the sound of another voice.

“And this!” On the other end of the room, Miles holds up the goober. Octavious, Scorpion and Kraven squint at it dubiously 

“You threaten us with a… a SD Card?” Gargan asks with genuine confusion

“Does the name Peter Parker ring a bell?” 

The eyes of the three criminals all widen in shock. 

“I have everything on here. The confessions, the documents, everything.” 

“We’ll leak it!”  Miles G. shouts, so intensely that the distorter in his helmet takes on a new grating frequency. “Everyone will know exactly the kind of people you all are. Your careers will be over.” 

The villains stand there in a stunned silence, though the doctor is quick to  regain her composure. 

“Do it.” 

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.”  

She apathetically drops her lab coat and ties her hair in a high messy bun. Suddenly, long tentacles-like appendages begin to extend from her back. Each shooting out heedlessly in different directions like large limbs in desperate need of stretching.

“Look out!” Prowler grabs Jonathan, shoving him out of harm's way. Everyone else frantically scurries around to avoid being hit. 

When Jonathon unshields his face he sees a woman suspended a good few feet in the air, held up by a series of gargantuan rubber insulated robotic tentacles stemming from her back. Green goggles sit over her eyes, totally obscuring them. The smile on her face is menacing 

“Liv don’t tell me you- you’re-”

“-Don’t call me Liv. ” she calmly reproaches, her fists clenched at her sides as she glares downward at the timid man. 

“Call me Doc Ock.” 

Scorpion and Kraven assume defensive positions behind her, their respective weapons are barred in hostility. 

 “I told you so.” Prowler chides in a not-so-subtle murmur to the scientist. 

 “Yo-You don’t scare me” Jonathan says apprehensively. “Once the Bugle gets wind of this they’ll-” 

All the villains burst with laughter. Their loud, patronizing howls and cackles echoing off the lab's high domed ceilings. 

“He take to the Bugle,” Gargan mocks in a high pitched timid voice. “Oh no! Anything but The Bugle!”

 “Stupid, stupid man.” Kraven shakes his head in a manner almost sympathetic. “Who do you think owns the Bugle?”

Jonathons immediately face drops. “No…No you don’t.  Y-you're lying.” 

“I can see the headline now.” Doc Ock extends a hand to the sky in a sweeping motion, as in reading the words off a theater marquee. “Deranged Local Scientist Teams Up With Third Rate Villain to Undermine Brooklyn’s Beloved Elites.” She cackles loudly at her mock title.

 “Uh, Uh” Scorpion shakes his head. “Too wordy.” 

“We how-do-you-say… workshop it, no?” Kraven elbows Gargan payfully, both still reeling from his fit of laughter

“Well the point is…” Olivia raises her hands to redirect the straying conversation, resuming her malicious gaze directed towards the feeble man. “Noone is going to listen to a nobody like you. You’ll be laughed out of town before they even put the story to ink. You’re a joke Jonathon. Now why don’t you do the smart thing for once and hand over the stuff before we make your life a whole lot harder for you.” 

Jonathan stands in place wordlessly, still as a statue as he stares at his shoes in idle contemplation. Suddenly his head snaps up with a sudden sense of urgency. He turns to face Miles Morales of Earth 1610. His free hand outstretched towards him. 

“May I?” he asks. Miles reluctantly walks over and passes the goober. As he fidgets the chip in his hand. Both Miles’ hovers concernedly, blocking Jonathan from harm with their bodies. They mutter their concerns as he distractedly fiddles with it. 

 ‘Careful. Careful. Please be careful.’ 

‘Ohnn-I-swear-to-god-if-you-drop-that-thing-I’m-going-to-frickin-scream.’

After a drawn out, contemplative silence. The scientist firmly grips the SD card in a tight fist. He straightens his back and holds his chin high with newfound resolve. 

“Give the man his watch…” he phrases carefully, as if defusing a ticking time bomb with his words alone, “...and then you can have this chip.” 

“What!?” Miles-Spiderman shouts at the same time the Prowler cries “Dude!?” 

Olivia stares at the ceiling thoughtfully, “Throw in the briefcase as well and you have a deal.” 

“I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.” Miles G. smacks the side off the case for emphasis as delving into a long winded flurry of insults in spanish. Much too fast for the non-native speakers in the room to catch on. Though Miles' eyes widen with an ‘Ooohhhh.’ Miguel snorts amusedly. Scorpion’s face sours. 

“You think eres una mierda caliente, huh!?” Gargan leaps forward, launching his stinger directly at Prowler, who reflexively blocks it with the briefcase. The brightly colored poison from his stinger seeping down the front of the container. 

“Será mejor que elijas un dios y ores,” the giant man jeers in his face through gritted teeth. Miles-42 forcefully pulls the case from the clutches of his stinger, taking a quick moment to ensure the safety of the content inside. He gives subtle sighs with relief upon seeing them still intact. 

“Prowler please!” Jonathan pleads from the sidelines. “It’s not worth your life!” 

“No way cabron!” He shouts, taking a swipe at Scorpions face with his steel claws, missing by mere millimeters. “We lose this, we're back at square one!” 

 “So this young man can go home and save his father!” 

“Then what about us huh? He gets to go home and play hero while we’re left here with nothing?” Gargan makes a swing towards Miles' face, but misses. The boy immediately retaliates by smacking him in the face with the briefcase. The cyborg creature stumbles sideways from the hit.

“Then we’ll do it again! We’ll find another way to stop them! But right now we have to negotiate!”

“Negotiate with them? They’re one of the people who put a hit out on you Jonathon! They’ll kill you regardless!”

All the villains recoil in confusion. The claw hand Gargan had poised for a counter attack halts mid air. 

“What?”

 “Que?” 

“что?”

“Well, This is news to me.” Octavious announces, utterly baffled.  “Why in the world would I put a hit out on Mr.Ohnn?” 

“For the collider, obviously. Don’t play dumb. He hid the blueprints and you wanted them for yourself. And you said you wanted them, and I quote, ‘By any means necessary.”

Octavious scoffs dubiously. “I will admit I was displeased by his gatekeeping of valuable information,  but I did in fact not put out a hit on Jonathon. That is far too messy for my liking.” She wipes her hands on her metal corset from which her robotic arms stem, as if the mere thought stained her hands. 

“What a bold-faced lie,” the boy spits.  

“I could say the same about you young man.” She moves him towards via tentacle. “Tell me, how did you manage to get into this lab?”

“I snuck in. And you can thank your awful security for that. Half the officers are either asleep, or high. I practically walked in here. ” 

“Right, right, so let me get this straight,” She messages her right temple with a pained expression on her face. “You had to break into my lab in order to carry out a hit I  ordered for you? What sense does that make exactly? You aren’t a very good liar are you?” 

The young man scoffs, tucking the briefcase under his arm defensively. “It’s not like You never liked making my job easy for me.” 

 “But you think I would make it harder on myself by proxy?” She guffaws. “I may be a little crazy, ” she squeezes her fingers together for emphasis. “But by no means am I that short sighted.”  “Literally and figuratively.” She snorts, pointing to her goggles. She gives a long winded laugh and is the only one to do so. 

“Booo!” Noir heckles. 

“Get off the stage!” Peter Parker echos. 

“You can lie all you want” Miles sneers, “but Prowler showed me himself-”

“-Ahh I see what this is,” she chuckles gleefully. “You’ve been double crossed by your own mentor, young man.” 

Dubious, Miles G. Morales waves a finger in the air. “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah. Don’t you dare try to spin this one on me-” 

“-Young man, have been called many things. Mad, crazy, insane, even a killer. All of which are true I suppose. But let me tell you one thing,” she travels closer with her tentacles high in the air, before lowering herself to be face to face with his mask.

“In this line of work, no matter how thorough or strategic or exact or conniving you believe yourself to be, you can only bury so many bodies before you start leaving a trail.” She stares unforgivingly at the purple l.e.d’s where she knew his eyes sat behind.

 “Of course I’m sure your mentor already told you that. Unless, god forbid, you’ve been primed to be his fall guy this whole time.’ she chuckles to herself as she turns to face the boys. 'That would explain his sudden ‘retirement’, wouldn’t it.’

Scorpion nods with a hum. Kraven proudly grunts as he crosses his arms.

That ‘retirement’ was your fault,” Miles G.  fumes. “He would never do that to me. I know you think you’re slick. That you’re so smart with all your mind games, but those don’t work on me.” Even the distorter can’t disguise how his voice cracks with emotion.  “I know who you are.”

“Awww.” Doc Ock coos unsympathetically “I believe you two have much to talk about later don’t you.” 

Miles G. Morales seethes silently. He racks his enraged brain for a retort, but comes up empty. 

 “Welp, that takes care of that. Onto the next. ” Olivia dusts her hands off theatrically, shifting her gaze back and forth between the Prowler and the scientist. 

“What’ll it be boys? We can get as bloody and complicated as you want, but I think you know deep down that all roads lead to Rome.” 

Miles clenched fist twitches on the case. He can feel Jonathon’s pleading gaze, which he doesn’t dare return. The weight of the conversation gnaws on his chest like a parasite. 

“God this is so stupid.” Miguel mumbles to himself and he holds his head in his hand. Exasperated at the thought of becoming an unwilling participant in a novela when he came here simply to do his job. He brings his hand up to his mouth to amplify his voice,  “You’re an idiot if you’re actually considering negotiating with them, kid!” 

Miles G. tsk’s noisily  “Who the hell asked you man? Shut yo ass up, viejo!”  

Miguel mumbles angrily to himself, as you pat his back reassuringly. ‘Last time I try to help somebody.'

Miles-42 once again resigns himself to his turbulent thoughts.  He looks around all anxious eyes fixed on him. All bodies stiff with anticipation, ready to jump into battle if he initiated such. Being forced to unravel this conundrum in front of an expectant audience brings him a sudden feeling of claustrophobia. What was he supposed to say? What did they want him to say? 

He stares down at the dented briefcase in his hands. Uncle Aaron would never set him up…would he? 

With a deep sigh Miles begins opens his mouth. 

“I-” 

Only to find himself cut off by the sound of revving engines. Within the next instant, a blur of motorcycles soar through the air. One after another, before noisily screeching to a halt in the center of the room. 

“Pues, hablando del rey de Roma, " Scorpion declares. 

The caped man who dismounts his bike is clothed in shades of green and purple. The pregnant woman, who remains seated, wears red, black, and yellow. Each of their bikes are colored to match their respective color schemes. 

“Jess! Where have you been?” Miguel callouts, attempting to hide how he’s using you as a crutch as he inches towards her. “I called you like a hundred times.” 

“I saw,” she nods in the direction of Aaron Davis. “I was going to call you back but I was quite busy, obviously. You always had a talent for calling me at the most inconvenient time.” 

He scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Everyone, including yourself, murmurs and hums in unison. 

“I mean…” Peter concedes with a shrug. 

“Well…” Pavitr starts. 

“She’s not wrong,” Penni states. 

“See, cuz I didn't want to be the one say it” Margo adds.  

“Told no porkies I’m afraid,” Hobie remarks. 

“I still have the scars,” Porker whispers with a shudder. 

O’hara simply grumbles aloud. “Unbelieve.” 

“Don’t test me Miguel. Before you stress out my baby” 

Miguel raises his palm with snark, “You do 360 flips everyday on a motorcycle that can stick to walls like a tree frog. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“Oh Prowler.” Olivia interjects in a sing-songy voice. “Mind answering a few questions? We need you to settle a score between us two.” She says pointing between herself and Miles G. 

Aaron stiffens at the deceptively nice tone. “What do you want?” he asks in a robotic tone similar to Miles, though his is much deeper and possesses significantly much more vocal fry. 

“It’s about the job,” Miles-42 explains. “About the hit she put out. She’s trying to lie and say she didn’t do it. But we know that’s not true because you showed me yourself.” 

Aaron bites his lip beneath his mask as he chooses his words carefully “...That…is what I told you…” 

“...But?” Olivia interjects.

Davis just sighs, “I’m sorry, Prowler.” 

“You’re kidding.” The young Prowler asserts, even chuckling to invite room for dissent. Though it never comes. “You’re actually serious? Why?” 

“It’s….complicated…” 

“You don’t trust me? Is that it?” Miles begins raising his voice emphatically. “After everything, do you really not trust me?” 

“Don’t be like that Prowler.Of course I trust you. We ride or die. You know that man.” 

“So why didn’t you tell me? Am I just a scapegoat for you to fall back on.” 

The elder Prowler lets his shoulder’s slump with a sigh, his head hanging from his neck dejectedly. 

“Man of course not. I would never do that to you. This is for your own good.” 

“Who decides that!?” Miles snaps, wildly throwing his arms in the air.

The grown man sighs once again. “I sorry, Prowler. I’ll tell you when this is all over.” He speaks with finality that sends the young Prowler’s agony over the edge. 

“No! You tell me now!If it’s not these guys then who put out the hit? What do you gain by lying to me.” 

But Aaron Davis just shakes his head. 

“Who  Prowler?” Scorpion creeps forward barring his clawed hand and his stinger poised to attack. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Aaron scans the room from top to bottom, his gaze lingering on the various pieces of tech that litter the war torn lab. “Not here man. Not now.” 

Miles-42 raises his brow. “What? You didn’t let them wire you did you?” 

“...Not me…” he concedes, pointing a swirling finger around the room. The villains all share looks of disbelief. 

 “Impossible,” Olivia sputters incredulously. 

“It sure is. They offered me double to rig it myself. ”

Miles lurches toward his mentor, his claws splayed ready to fight. His voice ripe with anger. “You think I care who hears? I clean ‘em out too, all by myself if I have to.” 

“Really now?” Aaron shifts his gaze to Jonathon. “Yet you couldn’t bother to finish the mission.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” Miles shoves him, forcing him to back up into the bike. “Who is it?”

The elder Prowler scrutinizes the boy. He raises his hands submissively as if to surrender, before  shoving Miles aside, claws bared as he makes a beeline towards Jonathon. The scientist yelps, bracing himself for the attack only for it to be intercepted by Miles-Spiderman. The young Prowler takes this moment to launch an attack from behind but Davis dodges in the knick of time, all without even turning around. Sending the young boy tumbling into his doppelganger. Davis skirts around the fallen boys toward the scientist, but is smacked in the ribs by Miles-42. By no means was it a good hit, but it didn't have to be. It was his weak spot. He deliberately targeted the injury that had forced Uncle Aaron into retirement. The elder Prowler grunts in pain, crumpling towards his injured side. Miles-1610 takes the opportunity to web his feet to the floor. Davis struggles against the restraints before he kneels to the ground of exhaustion, gingerly touching his side.

Miles activates his claw, it’s purple light running up and down its mechanical veins as it whizzes with power. The young Prowler stands tall above his uncle, looking out on him with contempt. 

“Names. Now.” 

Other villains circle. Still on the sidelines, but obviously hungry for action. If Miles doesn’t do him in, they surely will. 

The man whispers weakly to his nephew. “Miles-” 

 “-Tell me!” The young man screams. “You owe me!”

Aaron lets his chin fall to his chest with a quiet exhale, “...It was all Vulture’s idea.” 

Olivia tsks softly “I should’ve known.” 

Scorpion's face darkens “Aye aye aye,” he mutters as shakes his head. 

“Traitorous scum.” Kraven mumbles arms crossed, with each hand now possessing a death grip on the handle of each his blades.

“Who else?” The boy snarls, “You told me there were multiple.” 

The man looks up apologetically at the young boy. Even though he was surrounded by some of the worst villains Brooklyn had to offer, they were not at the forefront of his mind right now. He never feared them the way others had, his greatest fear lied instead with his nephew. Not a fear that the boy would hurt or surpass him, but a fear of letting him down. A fear that had now, sitting here staring up at his broken nephew who he saw as a  son, had been fully realized. 

Davis lifts his head towards the young Prowler, but can’t bring himself to look him in the eyes. He runs through the list of names dryly. 

“...Electro…Sandman…Mysterio  and...” 

“Don’t be shy. Spit it out ” The Hunter threatens brandishing his gleaming blades

Davis looks at Miles. He hoped, somehow, that the boy would be able to feel his remorse behind his vacant mask. “Prowler I-” 

Miles grabs him by the collar. Aaron immediately throws his arms up to disarm the boy, but then his hands drop limply to his sides. 

“...And Fisk .”

Miles drops his collar in shock. Aaron slumps to the ground defeatedly, groaning as he holds his wounded bones. 

“Ahh Of course. Vulture and Electro have always been close, no?”  Kraven reflects, lightly scratching his beard with his blade. “Electricity and telecoms make a fierce pair.”

“Beck always wanted to steal my recipe”  Scorpion muttered, his face flushed red as he attempted to quell his simmering rage 

“And they’re gonna come around here any second,” Aaron warns. “They’ll be coming for us all.”

“I’m counting on it.” Olivia remarks, reclining midair against the tentacles with a relieved stretch and a sigh. “Three against…” She takes a moment to count her opponents with her fingers, clicking her tongue as she does so, “...against twelve? It’s just so unfair don’t you think?” 

Meanwhile, the young Prowler trembles with rage “...Wilson…Fisk?” he stammers. “You took a job…from Fisk?” 

“Look, I know how you feel. I don’t want to work with him either but-”

“So why did you!?!” Miles-42 attempts to shove Aaron’s chest, but the man swipes his hands away. 

“Since when did you become a sellout!?” 

Aaron sits up straight, grunting from the pain as he does so. “Do you know what we could do with that kind of money? I could get you and your mom so far away from here-” 

“And leave Brooklyn?” Miles shouts, taken aback. “Are you kidding? You’re trying to get rid of me?” 

“This kinda life…things have a way of catching up to you. Physically. Mentally…Things are getting pretty bad right now, man. I just want you to lay low a bit. Get you a college fund, get a nice house in the suburbs. A girlfriend. I don’t know. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that’s green…nah, mean?” 

“Suburbs? Green?” 

Girlfriend? 

He isn't sure which part upsets him more. The part about life he never asked for the notion that he couldn’t be the person his Uncle thought he was. The person he wanted him to be. But all of it is together is more than enough to make his heart sink like a stone. 

“Something like that yeah” Uncle Aaron continues, his head bent with guilt. “I know you try to act tough like these things don’t get to you, I know you don’t want to talk about it but I know you. You don’t think I notice how you isolate yourself? How you lock yourself in your room after every job? How you stop eating? Even your mother notices. It worries her man, and honestly, it worries me too. ” 

“You didn’t feel bad the first time you killed somebody? So I have some moments, but bounce back. I’m different now. I’m grown.” 

The man points to Jonathon “Then what is he still doing alive? Why didn’t you finish the job? You had more than enough time. ”

Miles-42 suddenly stiffens “That has nothing to do with-

“-You don’t have the stomach for this, son.” 

Miles is stunned into silence. Aaron hardly ever called him son unless he was absolutely serious.  

“You’re so like your father that way. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I thought if I could make you more like me, I wouldn’t see him every time I look at you. My mistakes. My failures. How I failed to save him… I thought I was saving you and I thought the only way to do that was to make you like me. But I’m starting to realize-” he scrubs his hand down the front of his mask with a dejected sigh. 

Miles G. braces himself. “...Realize what?” 

“I let you down man, ” he huffs out. “You’re not built for this. I’m sorry son. You just aren’t that kind of guy.” 

The young Prowler recoils violently at the assertion like a slap across the face. It takes him a second to recollect his bearings. 

 “I am built for this! I can do this! I didn’t come this far just for you to chicken out on me now!” 

Aaron Davis raises a single finger towards the meek scientist. 

“Then finish the job. Right here. Right now.” 

With one look at the nervous Jonathon and the feeble puppy, the boy quickly finds his answer. 

“But he hasn’t done anything wrong!” He gestures to the man passionately, “Why don't we just….go after people who deserve it?” 

“Let me tell you something, son. It is a dog eat bitch world out there.  You try new things, people get hurt. You keep your head down , stick to the script and play the game.” He jabs his finger into palm for emphasis. “Not knowing when to quit, that’s what got your father killed and I don’t want that for you. ”

“The Game? What if I’m sick and tired of playing.”

“Then you play it sick and you play it tired.” 

In a sweeping motion, Aaron Davis kicks Miles’s ankles causing him to trip to the ground. The man then springs to his feet, making another attempt on the scientist's life. The young boy hastily grabs his leg only for Davis to kick the boy squarely in the chest. The elder Prowler is mere inches away from grabbing Jonathon when, out of nowhere, a massive sandstorm abruptly pushes him back. The cruel wind blinds the entire room. Everyone struggles to anchor their feet to the ground, squinting and covering their faces with their hands and arms. Many are skidding against the current despite themselves. The violent breeze and its particles biting against them like hundreds of tiny paper cuts. 

“Look out!” 

The elder Prowler dives towards Miles, just in time to save him from the massive bird-like creature barreling towards him. As the creature rises above the storm, the destructive wind suddenly ceases. Above then stands a man suspended mid air toward the ceiling, his body bobbing up and down as his wings flap to maintain the height. Each of his feathers shaped like large serrated blades, attached to a kind of backpack that would usually hold a parachute. Underneath he wears a large aviator jacket. To cover his face he wears a pilots helmet with a massive metal beak where the inhalation mask would usually be. His mouth, the only visible part of his face, sits in a large scowl. 

“You’re a dead man walking, you know that Prowler?” His voice is gravelly, yet authoritative as he cracks his leather-gloved knuckles. 

Nearby, a large heap of sand begins to rise, slowly taking the form of a man. His immensely robust build is shown off by a tight fighting, striped green shirt. His wide, square face grimaces with conviction as his left hand transforms into the shape of a spiked-mace ball. 

The next two pairs of individuals appear at the same time. One gentleman materializes from a cloud of smoke, with a crystal ball for a head nestled on a violet, velvet floor-length cape stemming from an emerald and gold technical marvel of a suit. The other man zaps from place to place at the speed of light before settling on a spot next to the sandman. This man’s face is shrouded in a brilliant evermoving electric display in the shape of a star. His eyes glowing a bright, blinding white underneath. In a similar fashion, his clenched fists surrounded in sharp voltaic fixtures of his own doing, probably as a mindless product of his fierce demeanor. The black vest he wears is decorated with electrical wiring and lightning motifs. 

The last man to enter dons a fitted police captain uniform. Black slacks and a white collar button up adorned with badges and emblems bordering on militaristic. On his sizeable, heavyset body sits a head far too small for his frame that it’s almost comical. His broad calloused hands rest on the two guns against his belt. He saunters in definitely, head held high and face riddled with immense loathing as if being forced to traverse through a landfill. 

The uniformed gentleman eyes the room and it’s occupants cautiously before landing on the young Prowler. Upon seeing him, the man gives a wicked smile. Miles-42 gives a hostile stare of his own. 

“Gentlemen! So glad you could all make it.” Octavious resumes her titular posture as she presses her fingertips together. “Hope it wasn’t too out of the way.” 

“Skip the pleasantries with me Olivia,” Vulture chastises, spit flying from his mouth as he does so. “We all know what we’re here for.” 

“Look around you Adrian. You’re clearly outnumbered. Despite us having an obvious score to settle, the odds are significantly better for us if we team up…for now at least. You know what they say, the enemy of my enemy…” she jostles hand between them, implying the rest of the expression.   

“Do this for us and maybe we can forgive some of your…transgressions.”

“You knew we were coming, and yet you chose to stay? ” Electro crosses his arms, sparks flying haphazardly off his being.  “I know a trap when I see one.”

“Maybe. Maybe not” Scorpion leans against the wall, inspecting his clawed hand. “But what choice do you have? Really, hidalgo? ” 

Vulture sighs grudgingly, descending from the skies with a thud. “Fine. But the moment this is over…” he points to Olivia and then himself. “...We’re going to have a nice, long talk.”

Octavious smiles in the face of the obvious threat. “Why off course. Anything for you Mr.Toomes.” 

“Hmmm, so I guys it’s finally time then.” Kraven meets Miguel’s gaze, smiling with glee. “Why don't we settle this as is common in nature?”

Kraven strides to the center of the room, Miguel peels himself from your grasp to do the same. Sharply exhaling out his nose with each laboured step until they meet in the middle. Kraven is almost a whole foot shorter than him. Though Miguel's imposing nature definitely adds to the bearded man’s obvious anticipation.

“Finally ready to fight now that mommy’s let you?” Miguel teases with a snort. “Just know that I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

“Good.The tougher the kill the better the taste,” he grins upward into Miguel’s face. “Any last words?”

Miguel thinks for a moment before slowly leaning forward, bringing his voice to a soft whisper. 

“They’re arachnids.” 

“What?” The hunter asks, bewildered. 

“Scorpions aren’t insects, they’re arachnids. There’s a difference.” With a smug smile he points to the spider emblem on his chest. “I would know.” 

Kraven’s smile fades. Before he begins to softly chuckle, which turns to a laugh, which delves to full amused howls. The display is so ostentatious and ridiculous that Miguel eventually chuckles as well. 

The hunter wipes the tears from his eyes, boldly placing his hand on his shoulder. 

“You,” he takes a moment to catch his breath “You are a funny one.” 

“‘Yeah well,” he smiles. "I just had to clear that up before I did this.” 

Miguel suddenly grabs him and launches him towards the other side of the room. Kraven manages to recover quickly, immediately pivoting so that his feet land on the ground and jams his large blade into the ground. The knife screeches as Sergei skids to a halt

The grin on his face is massive as he rises to his feet.  “This will be a beautiful death.” And rushes towards him where the battle commences. 

You startle Jess when you suddenly grab her by the arm. “You need to help me keep an eye on Miguel.” 

She turns her head to watchs the two men fiercely exchange blows. Miguel expertly ducking and dodging. Eyes read with rages and sweat seeping through his suit. 

“Are you sure we won’t be more helpful elsewhere? He’s fighting just fine.” 

“Yeah, for now. But you know about his Rapture addiction right? He’s been a loose cannon all day. I give it thirty seconds before he does something stupid.” 

She tilts her head skeptically. “He has the strength of three spidermen combined. I’m sure he can hold his own.” 

“It’s not the fighting I’m worried about.” 

She hums thoughtfully, “Touche. But we can fight and watch at the same time.” She loudly revs the engine of her bike.

“I’m taking Mysterio. Are you coming with me or not?” 

“Do you even have to ask?” 

She gives you a fleeting smirk before you both leap into action. 

“Is it starting? I think it’s starting.” Peter tightens the straps of his baby holder. “Hold on let me stretch first, I don’t exactly run like I did 20 years ago.” He bends backwards, concerning cracking noises echoing from his back. 

“Good thing I had a light lunch, huh, picklebutt.” He plants a kiss on Mayday’s head and pulls her homemade mask down even further. 

“Don’t sweat it Peter” Pav takes off his wristlets that act as his yo-yo and starts winding it up. “This’ll be eaaaasy.’

Hobie playfully punches Pav’s shoulder. “Dig the confidence big stepper.” He attempts to give him a noogie, but Pavitir dodges. Causing them to delve in a light-hearted  impromptu sparring match full of laughs and giggles. 

“How should we spilt this up?” Penni wonders, typing purposefully of the holographic screens  from the cockpit of her robot. “Rock, Paper, Scissors?” 

“I call Electro!” Margo shouts, extending her pixelated electric arm that acts as her webbing, propelling herself forward towards the fight. 

“What! No Fair.”  Penni yelps, barreling after her “You’re going to have to share!”

“What? Can’t hear you from all the fight I’m doing!” Spyder-byte shouts playfully, already ducking and weaving attacks from her villain of choice 

“Gimme the bug!” Porker shouts, pointing to Mac Gargan “Mess with the pig, you get the hands.” 

Gwen frowns “Porker, pigs don’t usually have-”

“-I’ll take ol’ bird man over there, ya hear? ” Noir declares. “That rabble rouser is begging to be scrapped!”

“I’ll take that sad, tortured, lonely, miserable, decrepitat sand guy over there.” Pavitir nods over at the sandman, abruptly stopping his yo-yoing to reflect. 

“I almost feel bad. Look at him. Behind those eyes sits a wounded soul.” He sighs earnestly before resuming his giddy nature. 

“Anyways! Hobie! Wanna help me out with this one!” 

Hobie smirks “Wot? Me? Don’t let me bog you down bruv. Surely you can handle this lot.” Brown laughs to himself, leisurely tuning the pegs of his guitar, “If you happen to find yourself in a bind, just get to leggin’ it. I’ll tap meself in.” 

“Hobie.” Gwen reprimands disapprovingly. “I’ll go with you Pav,” she offers, patting him on the back. 

“Guess that leaves the Doc to me.” Peter announces, finally finishing his geriatric stretches. “You wanna take this one with me Miles? For old times sake?” 

The boy shakes his head, turning his attention to his doppelganger, whose gaze firmly fixed on his arch nemesis. 

“I’ll help you take KingPin- or- er- Fisk I mean.” 

“Don’t bother,” The young Prowler rejects. “Focus on the watch. And Jonathon. This is personal.” 

“Personal?” Miles-Spidermn reflects on the KingPin in his own universe and his own personal slight against him. It takes a moment for the parallel to reveal itself to him. His eyes widen and his jaw drops at the revelation. 

“Wait, wait, wait. You don’t mean…” he points a tentative finger at the man, who is now gleefully whipping out a police baton. 

“...Is he the one who-” 

“-Yeah, ” Miles G. responds curtly. “That over there is the man who killed my father.”

[kierancaz]

The way I’m literally about to fight and bring the facts to this TikTok comment section because people can have their ships but also can y’all realize that certain characters have certain functions and they may not be big functions that’s ok. Cause like someone posted a video of Miles and Margo of their 30 second interaction with like pieces of the script layered over it and like yah you can see the vibe between these two but ALSO Margo has two functions 1) make Gwen jealous the way Hobie makes Miles jealous and 2) don’t hit the button on the machine and let Miles go back to his own dimension.

“I WANT THEM TO BE TOGETHER SO BAD !!!!” Why? Literally why? Margo has no character, has had a total of like 1 minutes screen time, and 1 scene with Miles.

People trying to use the spider-resonating as something to prove they should be together when that happens to everyone when they meet another spider-person?? Someone commented that in a book or smth it says Margo finds Miles cute which I think in her short screen time they get across really well.

But it just baffles me because like, Gwen and Miles are set up so perfectly. To me they’re on the list of ships I could never break for anyone else and that’s like two other ships. What is it that you see in Margo and Miles besides them idk looking cute together??

Scrolling through these comments is making me actually insane someone said that they were mad at Gwen for pulling Miles away like she owns him and said “and then you have ppl on tiktok acting like it wasn’t weird” ???? GIRL THEY ARE IN A RUSH TO GO MEET MIGUEL ?? GWEN IS CLEARLY STRESSING LIKE THIS WHOLE WALK ???

And then literally the creator of the og tiktok replied to them and said “the whole fandom likes to think Gwen owns Miles- I know the reason, but that’s for another discussion” and then when someone called them out for making everything about race they said they didn’t and that the person calling them out was making it about race like ?? You know don’t actually have to say the words “race” or “black” or “white” to make something about race? Your insinuation was clear as fucking day.

And also, because I did comment what I said earlier about Margo being to Gwen what Hobie is to Miles, someone replied saying that Hobie and Gwen see each other as friends and it’s obviously not the case with Margo and Miles and that they have a connection that will probably be explained in btsv.

I’m sorry. But I think you’re wrong. Hobie is super interesting and layered and I love him for that but he also serves two main functions (the creators just decided to give him much more depth with his five minutes of screen time, which I’m sure they would’ve done with Margo too if she had 5 minutes of screen time). Those functions are 1) make Miles jealous and 2) make the watch for Gwen so that when she gets booted back to her world by Miguel she can still travel dimensions.

Yes we know Hobie and Gwen see each other as friends but Miles does not. What Miles knows is that Gwen for the last however many months she has been in the spider society has been hanging out with some guy called Hobie that she thinks is super cool and he lets her crash in his dimension. What Miles knows is that Hobie is actually super cool and despite not wanting to like him because of Hobie’s relationship he does because he’s just that cool. He knows that Gwen took his shoes and left her sweater at his place and her toothbrush. He knows they’ve been on a couple dozen missions together. He knows that Hobie calls Gwen “Gwendy” and “my drummer” which while we may not have picked that up in a romantic context Miles in his little tiny jealous teen brain could have.

And also. When Miles hears any of that information is it very clear that he is NOT happy about it. It’s very obvious that he is jealous of Hobie. What Margo does is that same exact thing for Gwen but in a much shorter span of time and with much less build up because that’s all they really have to work with. And they get that Miles and Margo have chemistry across great.

But over all, there is no real reason to ship them. Because Margo has almost no character depth and almost no scenes and no real relationship with Miles in like any way. I’m not even sure you could call them acquaintances at this point. It feels like the only reason people ship them is because they’re two black characters.

Anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk ig.

[xtraordinaryfangrl]

fun fact: if the main reason you don’t ship miles with gwen is because she’s a “snow bunny”?

…

…

…

YOU are a part of the problem.

[thebestandrealestever]

NOT YOU TOO PART 2!!

1610 miles morales x black fem reader(?) hobie brown x black fem reader!

part 1: https://rb.gy/bfwe9

warnings : cussin, use of n word, rebound(?)

sum:hobie kinda 🤭, miles tried to apologize. a/n: HEY BOOKIES LMK IF YAAL LIKE IT, PSA : READER CHOOSES HOBIE/HERSELF!!! SOSORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, I HAVENT BEEN FEELIN THE BEST!!

the next morning u woke up alone, to a note on your nightstand that contained : “i had a late night mission wish i could’ve stayed longer. i seen your ig story, tryna pop out with me already pretty?” you pick up the note and smile as you read it then dropped your face in your hands you remembered the events of last night. sighing as you open your phone to 1 new text message from “hobie 🎸” 10 new text messages from “my boy 👦🏽.” 20 new instagram dms from “miles morales”. 3 new text messages from “gwen” 35 new instagram dms from “margo kess.” 20 new story reactions from instagram. you audibly groan at all the replies but what did u really expect, one day u were in the happiest rls and the next you flicking up w a new nigga. before reading all the messages you went to the bathroom, looking in the mirror at how tired you looked. your eyes rimmed with red from all the tears when hobie was asleep. even though he hurt u, your feelings didn’t just go away in a night. you took a long shower to digress, once u got out u finally checked your phone. through the sea of apologies, “can we talk”, and margo bein confused asfc the only message that matter to you right now was “pav’s throwin a party @ 9, wanna go?” kicking your feet when u flopped onto the bed you replied “yea, pick me up .” it was only 1pm, so u had the whole day. you called margo to come over and when she did you asked her about the party. “hobie invited me a to a party tonight” you said like it was nothing as u we’re getting in the car on your way to the mall. “WHATTT?? wait is it pav’s party?? cause if it is yk miles AND gwen gon be dere.” you rolled your eyes at their names “they can be there idgaf, i’m going to dance on my man and have a good time. i don’t know nun bout that.” margo wheezed and got out, as you both were shopping for outfits amongst other things you needed. when you got from the mall it was 6:30 giving u 2 hrs nd 30 minutes to get ready. margo decided to get ready at your place so you told hobie that she would take u and u guys would just meet there. after you got ready u n margo took a pic, posting it on ur ig story “pregaming w my fav 👯‍♀️” was the caption and miles slid up almost instantly “what party? pavitrs?” you laughed at how desperate he sounded leaving him on read. when you got there margo ditched u for her man, leaving you to roam the halls under blasting music and harsh color changing lights. you and margo had smoked a blunt before you came so you were a lil buzzed. as you scoured the house for a familiar face you were met the one you wanted to see the most, you strolled up the hobie looking up at him. “hey, why u wallsittin?” you quipped at him before joining him on the wall, he sipped whatever concoction was in his red cup and laughed, lowly and raspy. “was waiting for u” he glanced over his shoulder down at you and your stomach did flips u couldn’t even do. you pull out your phone and take a picture of y’all two captioning it “🫶🏽🫂.” and again miles slid up on sum more bs.

“wtf (name)?” you showed hobie the text and he huffed. after you put your phone back into your pocket you grabbed hobies hand “dance with me baeee” he didn’t say anything back but just followed you to wherever everyone else was dancing. miles irking ass mustve been looking for u cause you saw him out the corner of eye so you just turned the other direction and continued swaying w the fine nigga behind u.

MILES POV!!

“(name) won’t fucking respond, gwen doesn’t mean anything to me. she was upset ab-about her dad! and i was tryna be there for her. i don’t love her i love (name) with everything in me. i would never hurt her. and hobie really? his big lanky ass is built like a deep breath. he stay plotting on my relationship.” miles said out loud to his empty car trying to convince no one but himself. he scrambled his mind for an excuse but it always came to one thing. “shit, how i do that to her. why would i do that to her.” he opened his phone to 5 new messages from gwen. he didn’t read any of them just replied “it’s over, i don’t love u. and i don’t wanna see u again.” he went on instagram to pass time, clicking on your store first he saw hobie, ‘this nigga again ima beat the fuck out of his wide neck ass.’ he thought while getting out of the car and walking into the party. he talked with ganke and 42 miles before seeing u, and him. y’all made eye contact before he saw you turn around. ‘this nigga MUSTTTT wanna get fucked up, why he all up on my girl??’ he said under his breath as he walked up to the pair, “i need to talk to u.” you and hobie stopped dancing and faced miles, hobie looked him up and down and put his arm around your shoulder while miles acted like hobie wasn’t even there. “we have nothing to talk about.” the bluntness in your voice made miles eyes lower. “please baby l-“ “don’t call me that.” “please. let me explain” miles put his hand on your arm with pleading eyes, the same eyes he gave you when you first met, when you first kissed. he saw your face soften and he let go of your arm. hobie saw your face change too, as he turned around and you were about to follow him hobie grabbed your hand with a ‘are u sure?’ look, you smiled at him and he let go allowing u to catch up with miles.

he lead you to a secluded room and closed the door. when you turned on the lights the look on his face made you sympathize with him, his eyes big and lips pressed into a thin line. you decided to speak up first, “you really hurt me. ian done nothing but be good to u. why would u do that?” you say trying not to let your voice betray you. he snaps his head up at you hanging on to every word moving closer to you to make damn sure he didn’t miss a single syllable. “i love- i loved you miles. why didn’t u just be straight up and say u didn’t wanna be with me anymore.” you say refusing to look at him, especially in the eye. knowing if you did your mind would betray you. “i don’t know. i love you not her. i promise. remember our first anniversary? i told you i would never hurt you. but i did, i fucked up a good thing and im so sorry. you gave me a piece of your heart and i wasn’t careful with it like i should’ve been. like i will be. i need you princess, my pretty pretty princess. please.” he said grabbing your chin so you could look at him, he almost sounded sympathetic..?

YOUR POV!!

could he mean it? could he be sorry? your eyes softened as you looked into his own. you didn’t want to fall into his trap that was his gaze again, but you couldn’t help it. you never could, “i can’t trust you miles. i didn’t give you a piece of my heart, i gave you the whole thing. and i guess she did too, but you can’t hold two hearts in one hand.” u say breaking your face away from his hand, you were not going to let miles see you vulnerable again, he doesn’t say anything. “i think i need to distance myself. you don’t love me, and i refuse to put myself in the position to get humiliated again.” you say pushing past him to open the door as he stood there humiliated. his eyes filled with tears and he left the party, not wanting to see anyone. you walked back to the main room your throat burning as you held your tears in. you spotted hobie and said to him quietly “can we go?” he only took your hand and led you outside through all of the people. as you got in hobies car you texted margo, “hobies taking me home, text me later.” she didn’t reply probably because she was dancing or doing whatever w her bf “what happened?” he glanced at you over his shoulder as he drove to your house. “miles tried to apologize or whateva.” you said softly trying not to cry. hobie’s heart skipped a beat, he had feelings for you and if you went back to the same boy who messed up such a perfect thing, he was gon blow the top off this bitch. “yea? whatchu say back?” he say rubbing your thigh trying to play it off but it was really eating him up inside. “i told him i couldn’t be with someone i didn’t trust.” you say to him looking at him as his face relaxes and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “that’s good, you deserve so much better. you deserve everything.” he whispered the last bit but you heard it all too clear. you widen your eyes before turning your head out the window. “are you hungry? we could go get something to eat whatever u want.” “i think i just want you to go home with me.” you said turning your head to look back at him, u could hear the grin in his voice,

“okay pretty. let’s go home”

[xxoxobree]

Atsv Group chat

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

•°. alive, back from the dead *࿐

Pairing: Margo Kess (Spider-Byte) x fem!Reader

Type: Fanfic — Angst -> Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: use of Y/N, cursing, maybe ooc Margo, me trying to figure out how to write Margo’s universe properly 😭

A/N: soz guys this is based off a t swift song 💔 ik margo would probably be her no.1 hater and proud of it but anyway

This love is good

This love is bad

This love is alive back from the dead (oh)

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me (oh)

This Love (Taylor Swift)

“I want you to know this is not related to you at all. And I’m not breaking up with you, okay? I’m not.”

Her pre-recorded voice crackled through the speakers of your phone. She sounded slightly wobbly; had she been crying?

“This… isn’t something I can avoid. They need my help. I can’t ignore that. And I’m going - I mean, actually going. Believe me, I wish I could tell you more, but that would put you in danger, and…” A shaky sigh, then a few beats of patchy silence. “Please just… wait for me. I’m coming back. I promise. Don’t believe anyone who says otherwise.”

Another long breath, as if she was trying to stabilise herself, to hold together something that was falling apart. “I love you. Remember that. Remember…”

The message fizzled out with a few sharp scratches that made you wince. You stared at your phone for so long that the screen darkened and locked. This had to be a joke, right? Something that was so serious that she had to physically go be Spider-Woman, not operate as a virtual avatar that could be controlled from where she was at home — that couldn’t be real. Could it?

Though she wouldn’t joke about this. Wouldn’t joke about anything related to being Spider-Woman, lately. All jokes and sarcastic little quips about her secret vigilante identity had disappeared completely in the last few months.

And she kept missing dates left, right, and centre. You remembered one heated conversation on the phone about that, to which she had snapped, “I can’t help it if I’m needed to help prepare!”

When you questioned her about that, she had mumbled a hasty response (“I can’t tell you more. Baby, please, I know you’re pissed, but I love you too much to put you in danger…”) and cut the call.

That wasn’t a break-up excuse, right?

Right. She just had to… risk her life. With no explanation. No idea what she would be up against, probably, and clinging to the hope that she had prepared enough.

But she had asked you to wait.

So you would wait. And hope that she came back to you unscathed.

——————

3 months later.

“Bullshit,” You actually laughed the moment you saw the headlines on the news channel. Honestly, you wondered how the news reporter managed to look so solemn. “That’s obviously fake.”

Your friends shared a look, reaching towards you and gently squeezing your hand. “Y/N, we know this is difficult-”

“What’s difficult? It’s fake, isn’t it?” You stared expectantly at them, feeling your heart almost stop in its tracks as the realisation slowly dawned. “No, no, no, this is fake, it has to be. It’s not… not real.”

BREAKING NEWS: POLICE INVESTIGATION CONFIRMS SPIDER-WOMAN’S DEATH.

The block letters scrolling across the screen leered at you, obnoxiously large and taunting. Ha-ha, sorry. Guess you just lost someone you love, sucks to be you!

You realised you were tearing up as the words distorted into wavy, psychedelic shapes.

Without a word, you pushed yourself to your feet and locked yourself into your bathroom, sinking quietly to sit on the floor with your back against the wall. A quick glance at the counter made your heart ache even more; on the shelf next to the sink, rested a pair of small, purple bracelets, both hand-made by Margo. While the beads twinkled and shimmered like a normal bracelet, they weren’t actually there, simply an illusion emitted by a hologram chip on the inside of the cord.

You gently picked up the bracelets, staring at traces on the wall of the soft, pulsing glow that they gave off. If you closed your eyes, felt the faint warmth radiating off of the beads, you might just have been able to pretend that everything was alright. That she wasn’t—

“Y/N! You okay?”

Shit!

You flinched at the sharp, sudden call, dropping the bracelets onto the cold floor. Time seemed to slow down as you watched them fall with two harsh clacks on the marble. Surely they would be okay, right? They were holograms, the beads themselves couldn’t possibly break.

As if the universe was yelling out a giant fuck you, the emitter chip popped out of the cord and broke clean in half. The beads fizzled out with a soft pop. And just like that, of the most cherished gifts you had ever received - from your girlfriend, no less - was gone.

“Not anymore, no,” You muttered bitterly under your breath, swallowing back the sour taste and the lump beginning to form in your throat, all telltale signs that the waterworks would soon be beginning.

She was gone, leaving you to pick up the scattered pieces of yourself and figure out how to carry on living the rest of your life. Margo Kess was gone.

——————

5 months later.

You tried to force a polite smile and act like you were paying attention as the girl in front of you excitedly rattled off completely unrelated facts at light speed.

Partner projects were the worst. There was a time where it hadn’t been so bad, but that was when she had still been—

“Helloooo, earth to Y/N. Hey, are you even listening?”

Oh. “Right, yeah, of course I am,” You blinked at her, quickly disguising your glazed-over, bored-out-of-your-mind expression with a mask of fake interest.

“Well, good. So, about this particular version…” That was about as far as she got before you tuned her out again, gazing enviously out of the café window at the pedestrians and cyclists going about their day. Then you saw something that made you double-take so hard you thought your neck might break.

A flash of shimmery — no, almost glitchy — purple fabric. Hologram-like webs…

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Your words tripped over each other as you pushed your chair away from the table, practically stalling flat on your face in your haste to get outside. The protests of your classmate went completely unheard by you as you burst out into the street.

“Ma-” You stopped yourself before you could call her real name out, scanning the sky for what you saw. “Spider-Woman! Spider…? Oh, Spider-Byte!” Goddamnit, keeping track of her many names was hard.

You glanced around wildly, beginning to lose hope as whole minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly. Passers-by gave you odd looks like you had lost your mind; and, well, you couldn’t really blame them. If a girl was standing alone outside a café and yelling a dead superhero’s name at the sky, you would think she had gone crazy too.

Then someone’s arms closed around you from behind, you were lifted off your feet, and your stomach dropped to the ground as you were swung through the air onto a roof.

You drew in a sharp inhale the moment your feet touched the ground, then relaxed. You definitely recognised that perfume.

She’s back, bitches, you thought proudly as you turned around and flung your arms around her neck, relishing the soft, amused chuckle she let out. She’s back and probably stronger than ever.

“Margo-”

“Shh. I know. I know. But I’m here now, and I’m fine. We’re all fine. We’re all-”

You cut her off by pressing the button right underneath her earlobe that you knew temporarily deactivated her whole mask, cupping her cheek and pressing a kiss to her lips. The whole thing was almost frenzied, how quickly you had to reassure yourself that this wasn’t just a wishful daydream, that this was real.

You tasted orange and vanilla chapstick, and when you pulled away you saw her lip gloss was smudged pretty badly. Well, that had to be real.

“Welcome back,” You murmured giddily, locking your arms around her again. Her eyes crinkled at the corners with how wide she was grinning. “Missed me that much, huh?”

“God, you have no idea.”

She let out a laugh and hugged you tighter. “Okay, let’s get back. I’m so hungry, I could kill for a bag of chips.”

“Wait, Margo.” The slight seriousness in your tone made her pull away to look into your eyes, raising her eyebrows in question. “Yeah?”

“Is this it? No more… whatever this was?”

She considered your question for a few seconds, letting out a long, slow sigh. “Sweetheart, something as bad as this will never happen again. I promise. We had to fake my death for a few months so that I could lie low and no one would suspect it was me hacking away at their firewalls. I… can’t promise that I will never have to go on a physical mission again, because the other Spiders sometimes need my help specifically, and honestly that’s quite an honour. But you will never, ever have to see headlines of another fake death of mine again. That I can promise.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together as you processed her answer. You were okay with that, you decided. Well, it wasn’t perfect, but hey — you and Margo weren’t that perfect either, and you had gotten as secure as you had because of communication and trust. So maybe you’d need to apply that to this scenario as well.

There was no playbook for loving someone like her, for waiting anxiously every time she swung off to save the city from whatever diabolical virus or villain decided to strike next. You just… had to make the right adjustments at halftime. Reassure yourself that she could handle most things they threw at her, and have faith in your girlfriend’s abilities.

“That’s good enough for me,” You announced, linking your arm with hers. “Now let’s go get some burgers, you must be hungry.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely starving.”

Taglist: @hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099

[punkeropercyjackson]

Jsyk 'Troubled Kid' means 'Minority kid,usually autistic or black or abused,who's treated badly for being a minority and deliberately dosen't get their needs met for the same reason and victim blamed even though their traits are either not their fault or not bad',not 'school bully' or 'quirky kid who's otherwise normal and dosen't get picked on'.And if you're gonna say 'Well Percy Jackson was the one who popuralized the term in fandom!!!' then babygirl i got some news for you about Percy Jackson

[moonyandrice]

okay my last post was like super negative and I don’t want my only contribution to the spiderverse fandom being a rant- so I’m just gonna throw it out there and say, whoever’s idea it was to ship Margo and Earth 42 Miles deserve a slice of cheesecake and a kiss on the mouth.

[bizbat]

I Know a Place ~ 1

~ Spiderverse x Fem!Spider!Reader

~ Reader is shorter than Miles, Pav, and Hobie, but appearance is otherwise not mentioned

~ Possible love interest include: Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar, Earth 42 Miles, and Margo Kess.

~ Reader is a newer spider, who, after losing a fight against an anomaly that found its way into her universe, is consoled by her friends.

~ Wc: 1.9k

~ You can find more of my works here

~ Contents include: Fluff, Romance, Mostly platonic as of now, Slight angst, Comfort, Horror, Mentions of blood, Intimate non sexual touch, Slight Yearning.

Somewhere, in New York . . .

A group of teenagers clad in brightly colored spandex suits, sit in a booth at a small cafe. The cafe itself is a cozy, little hole-in-the-wall, known only to those lucky enough to live nearby. The teenagers rest their tired bodies, allowing their muscles to melt into the soft leather seats, as they're embraced by the warm aroma of nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla, and cocoa.

The calming scents swirled in the air, providing the teenagers a much needed sense of comfort and relief. They chatted amongst themselves, some excited from the battle they had just won, some wearily listening and occasionally providing their own input. All engaging in the conversation one way or another. All except for one.

One of the teenagers sat silently staring into her drink. Her mind, like her peers, was still on the fight the had just walked away from, though unlike them, she wasn't exactly satisfied with the outcome. She tried to focus her gaze on the hot beverage clasped between her hands, and not on the dirt and blood splattered on her gloved fingers.

Everytime she closed her eyes she could still see it.

Horror starts here -

Previously . . .

He was an anomaly, a horrifying variant of the criminal Rhino. He was a massive man with stocky , tree trunk-like stubs for legs. He had huge, muscular arms, his fingers were thick nubs, a solid plate of keratin from his first knuckle to the tip of his fingers. Despite his giant stature, his bodybuilder physique, and his inhuman limbs which were covered in tough, dark grey skin, the characteristic that most caught the teenager's attention was his face. Two massive tusks sprouted from his skull, piercing his flesh, and causing dark blood to leak over his head, face and shoulders.

He was clearly in pain, screaming as he flung any and everything he could lift over his head. Cars, fire hydrants, chunks of sidewalk. Nothing was safe from him in his rampage. He spared no mercy as he threw objects towards innocent civilians. Thankfully, by the time Y/n had gotten there, most of the bystanders had already fled the scene, and the few that remained were quickly moved to safety. The teenager turned her attention back to the rhino-man as soon as the last citizen was safe and secure.

"You really do live up to the n-"

Y/n could barely get a word out before she was flung into the side of a building. She slowly rose to her elbows, her head spinning as broken glass clattered onto the ground around her. She felt something warm and wet run down on cool on her face beneath her mask. She hobbled to her feet the minute the loud, incessant pounding in her head stopped, another quip already on her lips, only to be interrupted once again by a whack to the face. She felt like she'd been hit with a wrecking ball as she flew through the air.

Horror ends here -

She crashed into the pavement, her head smacking the ground that cracked around her, before slowly rolling to a halt. She tried to push herself back up, with what felt like boneless arms. Her arms weakly trembled before collapsing beneath her weight. Fear rushed through her veins as the sound of thunderous footsteps approached her weakened body.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, her fists clenched and her breathing quickened as she braced herself, preparing her body to take more abuse. She felt dread embalm her entirely, her sweat cold on her skin, as the Rhino rose his arms above his head.

But before the Rhino could bring his clubbed fists down upon Y/n's crumpled body, the loud riff of an electric guitar rang through the air.

Her eyes remained closed, as bright yellows, purples, and blues flashed across the sky in blinding geometric shapes. Y/n's stiff body ironically relaxed at the sound of fighting and music, her body and mind fully exhausted. She only began to open her eyes when she heard a familiar voice softly calling her name, gently coaxing her to rise to her feet.

Currently . . .

Y/n sat near the window, strictly gazing into the mug between her hands. She had been so focused on her own moping she hadn't noticed the conversation around her had begun to lull.

"Y/n, you alright there, bruv?"

Her head snapped up, her attention suddenly placed on the british man seated across from her.

"Huh!?" Y/n's gaze drifted to the other teenagers sitting with her, unintentionally now the center of their attention. "What do you mean? I'm fine. I'm okay."

The teenagers around her exchanged glances before turning back to her. "Y'know, it's okay if you aren't okay, though," Gwen, the blonde sitting beside her replied, her voice had been the one to pull Y/n from her pained stupor. Gwen gently placed her cup of hot cocoa onto the table in front of her, before lightly stroking Y/n's forearm with her thumb.

"I know, I'm okay. Really. . . I am." Y/n dropped her gaze back to the hot, sweet smelling beverage in her hands. The cafe the teenagers took refuge in had some of the best food and drinks any of the spider's had ever had. It was a family business, run by an older couple and tended to by their granddaughter. It had been a place of comfort for Y/n since she had come across it while chasing a pickpocket down an alley.

Unconvinced, the rest of the teens sat quietly. "Is it about the fight cause if it is you got nothing to worry about" said miles, a chocolatey ring on his top lip. "When I was 'bout a month into being Spider-man, I had to fight Scorpion." Miles shook his head. "Lost so bad, it was on the news. My mom heard about it."

"Really?" Hobie questioned, taking a bite of his pastry, "That bad, huh", he followed earning a glare from Miles.

"Oh please, that's nothing! When I first became Spider-Woman, I got absolutely wrecked by Doc Oc! I got publically laughed at for two weeks!" Countered Gwen, her hands moving as she spoke. "I couldn't go out without hearing someone laugh about it."

Hobie chuckled, causing Gwen to toss a large marshmallow in his direction, "And what of you, Pav?"

"First of all, what about you, Hobie? You've never lost a fight?" Said Pavitr, flustered at the sudden attention. "Oi we'll get there when we get there, yeah? Your turn."

Pavitr sat back in the booth, his hand raised to his chin as he thought of his most embarrassing loss. "One time I . . . got . . . a got a bloody nose through my mask?"

"Yeah, but did you lose?" Asked Miles.

". . .no. But it was on TV!" Pavitr raised both hands in defence after earning a playful groan from the whole table, "Of course not", and "No surprise there" flying from his friend's mouths. "I'm sure mine will happen sooner or later!" Pav turned to face Hobie once again. "Okay, okay, your turn, Hobie. Tell us your most embarrassing story." Hobie sniffed, leaning back and putting his arms behind his head. "What's there to talk about, mate? I never lose."

"Right." It was the first thing Y/n had said with a smile on her face. Hobie glanced over at her, a soft smile replacing the frown she wore earlier. Hobie straightened in his seat, "Well-I mean- I-This one time right," Y/n laughed at his sudden disposition, "I was just off holiday, y'know, so of course I'm gonna be a bit rusty, a little out of it, y'know," the table began to giggle at his frantic excuses.

"But yeah, I'd just come off holiday, I start to swing around, warm up, got my blood flowing again, out of nowhere, this-this airship comes flying my way, absolutely massive, comes outta nowhere," "Oh it came at you, did it?" Pavitr asked between laughs. "Yeah," Hobie claimed, a faux irritation coating his words "It came at me, Pav man, you even listening? So it comes at me," he continued.

"I'm looking down, hundreds of adoring fans below, all lookin' back up at me, my senses kick in, little too late, yeah, but they do," Miles wheezes at Hobie's erratic retelling, his fist lightly pounding the table, as gwen writhes in her seat with her head thrown back. Y/n and Pavitr exchange glances with tears in their eyes whenever Hobie stumbles over his words or repeats himself.

"I look up at just the right time for the universe to take it out on me, i guess, and then WHAM! I smack into the aircraft, face first, all my fans still watching me as I plumet to certain death, just laughing, like I don't protect them everyday from the cold, greedy hands of a power-abusing, capitalistic, autocratic, and bigoted nightmare!"

By now every teen at the table is in hysterics, laughing so loud the table shakes with all their food and drink. Hobie and Miles have taken the slapping each others arms, as they cackle at Hobie, as Gwen has visible tears pouring down her face.

After being yelled at for being to loud and calming down, the group sits in a pleasant silence. Y/n sighed, yeah, today could've gone better for her, but in the end, she was thankful she had the kind of friends willing to embarass themselves to make her feel better. "Thank you, guys," Y/n mumbled out, a happy yet somber expression on her face, as they began to meander out of the cafe. "For tonight, and for . . . earlier."

"Aye, no problem, Y/n," Miles said, slipping an arm over her shoulder and looking into her eyes, a warm grin spread across his dimpled cheeks. "Any time." Pavitr gently stroked her knuckles with his thumb as he held her hand. The teens took off in the direction of Y/n's home, joking all the way. They saw her safely to her door.

Noticing the time, Gwen turned to Y/n and wrapped her arms tightly around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I gotta get going," she saldy muttered as she squeezed Y/n. She pulled slightly from their embrace. "But I'll see you tomorrow?" Gwen stared into her face for confirmation, a playful smirk rising to her face as her cheeks heated up. "Bye Gwen, I'll see you tomorrow." Y/n felt her own cheeks grow warm, a little dismayed when Gwen fully pulled her arms from her.

Pavitr swallowed her form in his own muscular arms from behind, resting his cheek on her head. "I have to leave too," He groaned. Y/n giggled as he complained, a playfully sad look on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow too, Pav." Y/n laughed again as Hobie had to physically pull Pavitr away from her, before squeezing her shoulder himself and winking as he stepped through the portal.

Miles was the last to leave, he always was. He wanted to make sure Y/n was okay, having been no stranger to messing up himself. "You good?" Y/n sighed again, but this time it was filled with much less sorrow. She looked up at Miles and felt a warm smile rise to her lips. "I'm good Miles . . . Thank you. Really." Miles shrugged his shoulders as he beamed at Y/n before hugging her goodbye like the others. He lingered, just a bit, before letting his arms slip from her shoulders.

Miles stepped towards the portal, turning to grin at Y/n for the last time that night.

[lazyjellyfish300]

Can I request "watching a horror movie with Peter B. Parker"? 😳

Reader loves horror movies but Pete invites her over without knowing that

HIII. Sure, love! 🫶🏽 Wasn't sure if you meant to submit this as a SMAU request, since this idea seems to be more suited for a fic. My fic requests technically aren't open rn but since there is scarce material for Peter B., I will make ur dreams come true 🎃

I will open my requests for the entire month of October too as like a Flufftober thing so stay tuned for more information about that. 🖤

a horror movie night with peter b. 🎥🍿🎃🕸️🔪

CW: X FEM!READER, TAD SUGGESTIVE , MINORS DNI, DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD AND GORE, NAUSEA, KINDA GROSS. FLUFF AND CRACK. MINIMAL PROOFREAD.

WORDS: 2.6K 🔪

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer @spider-mon-de-parker @gltzpzy @pxtched

"Man, how are you about to have a Halloween movie marathon date night and no Halloween treats or decorations?!"

Margo Kess brings her fingertips together and leans forward, as though the absurdity of the situation was such that it required her full contemplation.

Peter B. quirked a brow, seemingly unable to grasp the seriousness of his offense.

"You're supposed to decorate?"

"Not supposed to, but you should." A new voice chimes in from around the corner.

Peter B. groans internally. He would be outnumbered this time. Enhanced spider hearing was both a blessing and a curse. And this time it leaned more towards a curse as it enabled the two spidergirls access to his private business.

2 versus 1.

Gwen saunters in, accompanied by a curious Pav.

Scratch that, make it three.

"It's kinda like returning your grocery cart in the parking lot. You won't get arrested if you don't do it. But it's a litmus test about whether or not you're a good citizen, or in this case a thoughtful boyfriend." Gwen hums.

Peter B. rakes his fingers through his hair, leaving the brown mop with flecks of silver disheveled.

"Oy vey, you ladies act like I'm not even going to feed the poor girl. I have snacks on the itinerary, you know this."

"Let me put it this way." Margo angles her clasped hands at Peter to lay down her point. "Your girlfriend is coming over to your apartment for the first time. Cool Ranch Doritos and Diet Coke isn't gonna cut it. And I say that as an individual who particularly appreciates those two things. Do you even have soap in your bathroom? Not counting the one you scrub your ass with in the shower? "

Peter groans, his mind suddenly plagued with an unchecked to do list of God knows how many items he was missing. And the movie date was to happen in t-minus 5 hours. He must have been out of the dating pool for longer than he thought.

But, they made a compelling point. Peter was crazy about you, and you deserved better than that. After a couple dates and a few intimate encounters that got a little bit, steamy, shall we say, your relationship was at a pivotal point. Teetering at the precipice between something serious and long lasting, or a fling that springs to a flame quickly but blows out with the winds of a couple fleeting months.

He sure hoped it was the former.

"We got you." Gwen assured, nudging his rib with her elbow. "Just give us your credit card and like... three hours?"

Pav strains his neck into the conversation. "I am correct in making the assumption that pumpkin spice flavored beverages and cake pops will be part of this excursion?"

Gwen sighs. "Yes, Pav."

Margo nods. "Yeah, you know, we could use your attention to detail, Pav."

Pav clenches his fist victoriously and Peter sweats a little bit for his financial stability by the end of this.

----

Peter can't recognize his living room as it's been transformed from head to toe into one of those rooms straight off some girl's Pinterest board entitled, "fall bucket list <3 🎃"

Festive orange candy corn and purple cauldron lights are strewn around his TV and from the ceiling to the floor, secured discreetly by spider webbing. His entertainment center is decked out in ghost shaped tea lights, casting decorative shadows on his empty walls. A large candle is burning on his coffee table that smells like a cinnamon pumpkin exploded in an apple orchard in the heart of October during a rain storm. Next to the candle is a large charcuterie board with assorted fruits, cheeses, crackers, and deli meats arranged to look like a spooky graveyard, next to a large tub of freshly popped popcorn with a mummy on it.

"The socks were all Pav's idea." Gwen hums in approval as she stands in front of her, Margo, and Pav's handiwork. Pav nods his head in acknowledgement, mouth full of a generous swig of his fall blended coffee drink in one hand with a half eaten cake pop in the other.

Peter notices the jack o'lantern print socks for him and the witches striped socks for you sitting next to some Frankenstein decorative throw pillows, along with an extra large plush throw blanket with black cats dressed up as trick or treaters, big enough for two people to snuggle underneath.

"Oh and do not forget to give her this!!" Margo holds out a spooky basket stuffed to the brim with all your favorite things straight out of a Target Halloween aisle.

"Hold on a sec, Burt's Bees, perfume, Ulta gift card...how much did you guys spend??"

"The pizza will be here in 10 minutes." Gwen checks her watch.

"Wait-hold on..." Peter B. is extremely particular about his pizza toppings.

"Oh, and we made some improvements to your bathroom. So it should be girlfriend-friendly." Margo shivers as she recollects the sad state of affairs they found it in before the trio waved their magic wands.

"Guys-"

Ding dong.

"Ope, that's her. Time to skaddadle. Anyways, good luck Pete!" Gwen webs to the outside window in the blink of an eye, Margo giving him the farewell salute close behind.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't dooo!" Pav calls in a sing-song voice before he's already gone as well.

Nothing like being thrown out a window without a parachute huh?

Peter straightens up and walks to the door.

Here goes freaking nothing.

He opens it and there you are, donning a comfortable crew neck Halloween sweater and eccentric earrings to match, a pan of brownies in hand.

Suddenly, the price tag of his Halloween apartment remodel is completely irrelevant.

You flash him a gorgeous smile. "Hi Pete."

"Hi, honey..." His lips spread into a charming grin. "Come on in."

You hand him the brownies and walk in, oxygen discarded in the entryway when you see the decked out, cozy movie setup for your date.

His apartment smells divine, first of all, and second of all, his living room looks like something straight out of your ideal version of a movie night if you could have planned it from scratch in your head.

It pulls you in like a freshly baked cinnamon roll with pumpkin cream cheese frosting with a blanket around your shoulders. You might just end up spending the night at this rate. You look over at Peter who's lost in your beauty like usual.

"All this for us? You shouldn't have, Pete! It's perfect."

"Y-yeah, hah. It was nothing, really. Just a little something. Wanted it to be festive, you know since it's Halloween and October and all."

He tried to play it off. You smile as he sets the pan of brownies down, almost catching his hoodie sleeve on fire on the giant candle in the process.

You weren't born yesterday. Peter must have some really sharp coworkers or something that did all this for him. He didn't seem like one with a knack or ability to be this elaborate. But, he was thoughtful, you'd give him that. He really was a man you hoped to be with for a long long time. And this Halloween date night, even if it was brought to you by the goodwill of the pumpkin fairy, you appreciated the gesture all the same.

"Make yourself at home." Peter gestures to the couch. The tense feeling in his muscles departs the moment you lean against his chest with a sigh.

"I missed you babe."

"I missed you, honey." He smiles, running a finger down the side of your face.

"What's this?" You take notice of the conspicuous Halloween gift basket and matching socks.

"Oh-those are for us." Peter leans forward, handing you your pair of socks. "And this is for you..." He hands you the spooky gift basket.

Your smile spreads wider and wider across your face as you unwrap each item. Who gives a damn if the pumpkin fairy was responsible? Nobody's ever done anything like this for you.

"Pete....you're so sweet. Thank you."

"No problem, beautiful."

Your gaze moves to one another's lips, both of your eyelids inadvertently becoming heavier when your eyes meet his.

"Um-" the apples of Peter's cheeks bloom a little red as he takes the remote hastily in his hand. "Let's get started, shall we?"

You nod, looking down with a smile as you shifted to get more comfortable on the couch, leaning snug against his chest, both feet tucked in your brand new socks and underneath the fuzzy edges of the Halloween blanket. There would be plenty of time for some action later.

"Why don't you choose the movie, honey?" Peter hands you the remote.

Honored with the power in your hand he was relinquishing over to you, you take it with a smile and begin to scroll through your options on his flat screen TV.

Peter kicks his feet up leisurely, already making a sizeable dent in the popcorn bucket. The doorbell rings again, signaling the arrival of the pizza.

—-

When Peter sets the plates of two generous slices for each of you on the coffee table with bottled root beers, he is a little surprised to discover the option you landed on while he was gone.

"Oh, what's this?"

"Psychological horror." You hum nonchalantly ,snuggling next to him and taking a large bite of the pizza, melted cheesy goodness warming your belly.

"I heard it's really good. It won an Oscar for the special effects, I heard."

"Ohh."

Peter gulps. He wasn't expecting you to make such a...bold choice for the first movie. You look up at him with those adorable big eyes of yours, a little bit of pizza sauce staining the corner of your mouth.

Well what was he going to do? Tell you no? Reveal that he's actually a huge pussy when it comes to scary movies? When he invited you over for movie night, he was expecting Tim Burton level horror. Not this hard core stuff.

Well, once again, here goes nothing.

---

Movie number one is done, and Peter already knows he's having fucking nightmares tonight. It's gonna take a prescription of an episode of Friends, maybe 2 episodes of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air to cleanse his system before he can comfortably fall asleep, just to be safe.

And there you are, happy as a clam.

"That was crazyyyy don't you think??" You turn to him with an enthusiastic smile.

"Uh, yeah it was...it was something alright, honey."

Peter's white as a ghost, but miraculously you seem to remain unaware of his struggling state, possibly thanks to the dim light, as the sun has set below the horizon for quite some time now.

"Can we watch one more?" You ask, sitting up to help yourself to a brownie.

"Um..."

And once again, what is Peter to do?

"Sure we can, honey."

"Yay!"

Peter feels like he might have a little bit of hope as you start looking at some older films. Those cheesy horror movies could probably be much more manageable.

"This one!"

But oh no, he's not getting off the hook so easily. His heart sinks to his stomach as he realizes he's in for another long ride.

You chose some 80s slasher film. And yes, while it has that corny nature of old horror movies, there is no shortage of gore. Blood spurts everywhere, guts flying across the screen. It's detailed and it's quite violent.

Oh here we go...

----

About an hour in and Peter feels himself turn a sickly shade of green.

This time, it's more obvious as you notice Peter seems to be fighting for his life next to you. He isn't digging the horror flick as much as you thought.

"Babe, you okay?" You look up at him, the expression on his face slightly unclear, as the glow of the TV's flicker shadows his face a bit.

He turns to look down at you tucked under his arm. "Y-yeah. I'm good, honey."

He gives your shoulder a squeeze but he's not winning an Oscar for his acting anytime soon. He chokes back a gag when the masked killer slices one of the character's throat and a blood squirt shoots up like a volcano of forbidden fruit punch.

"You don't like these?" You ask, raising a concerned brow.

"Well..." Peter winces as he watches the fake red sea of viscous blood fill up the screen as the killer held up the decapitated head.

"Not particularly, I mean..."

The guts on screen begin to look like his pizza toppings. Peter B.'s appetite flies out of the window quicker than the beginnings of his hairline at age 28.

"Yeah n-no, not really..." He chokes back a wretch.

"Oh Pete!"

You pause the movie, leaning over and turning on the lamp on the table next to the arm of the couch. Peter's discomfort is much more clear to you now as he leaned over, holding his stomach.

"Peter, why didn't you tell me you disliked horror films??"

"Why didn't you tell me you liked them?" He takes a deep breath, leaning over and laying his head on your chest.

You play with his hair, reclining back until you position your head on a pillow, his nausea slowly disappearing with each steady, calm thrum of your heart in your chest next to his ear.

"Silly man, I thought we were having a scary movie night." You tease softly, kissing his hair, subtle notes of his shampoo and Old Spice. The familiar scent of your boyfriend you've come to know and love.

"I was expecting Beetlejuice scary at most..." Peter scoffs, looking up at you, flashing you those most adoring, chocolate brown eyes. Sweeter than any Halloween candy on the shelves.

"Baby." You sniff air through your nose, shaking your head. "I love all that horror shit, but you should have told me." You smile, the feeling of his blunt stubble tickling the palm of your hand, his gaze liquifying as you caressed his face with your caring touch.

"We can watch something silly so you can fall asleep."

"Mm..." Peter's eyes close. If he was a cat, he would be purring. You smile, continuing to tangle your hands softly in his messy hair. He was so damn handsome, and you just wanted this Halloween movie night to end on a good note for you both. "Thanks, sweetheart." He sighs deeply.

He turns his chin, his hands finding purchase underneath your sweater, the heat from his bare palms cascading all up and down your body as he silently watched some 90s reruns with you, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the late hour dragged past midnight.

"Stay with me tonight?" He asks softly, some time later, sitting up and leaning over you so his body is pressing directly into yours, groaning, and your lips parting slightly as you took in the sight of him on top of you. A bit of that suppressed tension that was bottled up from earlier was fighting to be released at last.

"I don't wanna impose, Pete..."

The ending of your sentence fades into a muffled moan of surrender when he starts leaving slow, tantalizing kisses in a coaxing row on your jaw.

"You can sleep in my bed..." He whispers. "We don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with, baby..."

He kisses you gently, at long last. "Just stay with me, sweetheart. I don't want you going home alone this late..."

You gaze up at him, a sea of putty underneath him.

"Please?" He wiggles his brow in that adorably goofy manner that had you biting your lip.

"Okay, Peter."

You smile, your eyes screwing shut once again when his lips connected promptly with yours, sweeping you up into his awaiting arms, tucking you into one of his hoodies and pajama pants before he fell asleep with you cuddled in his arms.

Nightmares kept at bay thanks to your loving presence. Halloween couple's movie night a spookily romantic success.

[hobiebrownismygod]

Masterlist!

Taglist link:

REQS ARE OPEN!!

I write fluff, angst, toxic relationships, headcanons, basically anything that doesn't involve smut!!

Fanfictions/Headcanons:

Hobie Brown:

Hobie seeing the sunset for the first time in Pav's universe

—> “like what you see?”

Hobie Brown is emotionally unavailable/struggles with showing emotions

Hobie brown x GN!Reader

—> hobie comfort - “I just need you”

Hobie Brown x Desi!Reader

Hobie Brown/ Spider Punk x GN!Reader

—> “it’s spiderMAN”

Hobie x Flexible!Spider-person Reader

—> “freaks me out”

Toxic Relationship - Hobie brown x Reader/OC

Hobie Brown x Gwen Stacy Variant

—> “I can’t lose her”

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

--> Such a lovely face

StreetKid!Hobie x Fem!Reader

--> "you can thank me by staying safe"

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

--> Sketching out chaos

Pavitr Prabhakar:

Pavitr Prabhakar x Indian!reader - Platonic

—> “us desi’s gotta stick together, right?”

Pavitr Prabhakar x Fem!PakistaniReader

—> “you love me, Meri Jaan”

Pavitr Prabhakar headcanons

Miles G Morales/Prowler Miles:

Miles G Morales/Prowler Miles Headcanons

Miles-42 x GN!Reader

—> “who gave you the right?”

Miles-42 x Gwen-42 Part 1 - First Look

Miles-42 x Gwen-42 Part 2 - Silent Sketches

Prowler Miles x Reader - Wattpad Fic

--> be careful, its dangerous out there

Gwen Stacy:

-None yet

1610-Miles:

Rising - Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

—> Uncle Aaron is dead, but the Prowler returns.

Miguel O'Hara:

Miguel O'Hara x Desi!Reader - Wedding Edition

--> “it’s a date”

Note: Feel free to leave requests for any of these characters, or more if you can think of them <3 Heads up, I usually post requested fanfictions anywhere from 4-14 days after receiving the ask, due to my queue usually being pretty filled up.

Researching Characters Series:

Part 1 - Hobie Brown

Part 2 - Pavitr Prabhakar

Part 3 - Miles G./Prowler Miles

Part 4 - Spider-Noir/Peter Benjamin Parker

Part 5 - Peni Parker

Part 6 - Margo Kess/Spyder-Byte

Part 7 - Malala Windsor/Spider-UK

My OC:

Introduction - Meet Maitreyi Jokhar!

Spider-Sona Art

Universe Building

Headcanon 1 - She practices her skills in her free time

Headcanon 2 - Hobie seeing her cry for the first time

Headcanon 3 - First Diwali

Backstory Part 1

Backstory Part 2

Backstory Part 3

Backstory Part 4

BTW I write longer ATSV Fanfics on Wattpad

You can access my profile here