#just because they’re an arachnid

[hpmort]

There are more than two spiders in my room which I think is too many spiders? A room of mine’s size, yeah one spider is useful, and maybe 2 is good but I am concerned about population density

What do they know that i don’t

[pucksandpower]

Blackmail Material

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you love your boyfriend more than life itself but who can blame you for keeping a folder of all the blackmail material he has given you over the years … just in case

You hear a bloodcurdling scream from the other room. “Y/N! Come quick!” Charles yells.

You rush over to find him standing on top of the couch, a look of sheer terror on his face. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He points a shaky finger at the floor. “Sp-spider!”

You look down to see a tiny little spider no bigger than a blueberry crawling across the hardwood. You have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of your brave Formula 1 driver boyfriend absolutely losing it over this tiny critter.

“Really? That’s what all the fuss is about?” You don’t bother to keep the amusement out of your voice.

“Don’t laugh!” He says indignantly. “It’s a monster! Kill it, please!”

You kneel down and take a closer look at the offending arachnid. “Aww, it’s just a little jumping spider,” you say. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Charles makes a strangled sound of disbelief. “Cute? It’s a beast from the depths of hell! I want it gone!”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “You race cars at over 300 kilometers per hour, but you’re scared of a little spider barely bigger than a piece of lint?”

“Yes! Spiders are my worst fear. Now stop teasing me and get rid of it!” He gives you his best pleading look from his perch on top of the couch.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, grabbing an empty glass from the coffee table. You gently trap the spider under it and slide a piece of cardstock underneath, trapping the spider safely.

“Is it dead? Please tell me you killed it,” Charles asks hopefully.

“Of course not, I’m just going to let it go outside. Spiders are good, they eat other bugs.”

Charles visibly shudders. “Well get it out of here! I don’t want to see it ever again.”

You carry the spider carefully to the sliding door and release it on the balcony. When you come back inside, Charles is still standing on the couch looking suspiciously around at the floor.

“The horrible beast has been banished, you can come down now,” you say.

He hesitantly steps back down onto the floor. “Are you sure it’s gone? You didn’t just give it free reign to run wild in the apartment?”

You try and fail to hold back a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. Your life is no longer in peril.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “This isn’t funny! Spiders are evil creatures with too many legs and eyes. They should not exist.”

You go over and wrap your arms around him comfortingly, though you’re still struggling not to giggle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But you have to admit, it’s kind of silly that someone who races cars at death-defying speeds could be so terrified of a tiny spider.”

He huffs indignantly. “It’s a completely rational fear. They’re all legs and eyes and they move so fast and erratically and some of them can be venomous. Absolutely horrifying.”

You smile indulgently and kiss his cheek. “Okay, I get it. I promise I’ll protect you if any more evil spiders invade our home.”

“Thank you,” he says, finally relaxing into your arms now that the threat has passed.

But you just can’t resist teasing him a little more. “It was just so small!”

He pulls back and gives you an unamused look. “You’re not going to let this go anytime soon, are you?”

You grin impishly. “Letting my big macho boyfriend stand on the couch and scream because of a teeny tiny spider? Yeah, probably not gonna let you live this one down for a while.”

Charles groans. “This is so unfair. The guys will never let me hear the end of it if they find out.”

You pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that Charles Leclerc is terrified of itsy bitsy spiders.”

And if you happened to save evidence of his freak out just in case? Well … it’s not technically telling anyone unless you share the video.

***

You can’t help but grin as Charles paces back and forth in your New York hotel room, running his hands through his hair in distress.

“Chill out babe, I’m sure the airline will find your luggage soon,” you try to soothe him.

Charles whips around, eyes wide. “Chill out? How can I chill out when my La Mer is missing? Do you have any idea how long it took me to perfect my skincare routine?”

You stifle a laugh at his dramatics. “I mean, it’s just skincare products. Not the end of the world.”

“Just skincare products?” Charles looks at you in horror. “That’s like saying a Ferrari is just a car! La Mer is the cream of the crop, the holy grail of skin care! My face needs it to survive!”

You can’t hold back your grin anymore. “Wow, didn’t realize I was dating such a high maintenance diva,” you tease.

Charles huffs, crossing his arms. “I am not high maintenance, I just have discerning taste and an appreciation for quality.”

“Uh huh, sure,” you say. “Is that why you made us stop at three different Whole Foods on the way here from the airport until you found your favorite protein shake?”

“That is completely different,” Charles protests. “My skin is very sensitive, I can’t just use any old drugstore products.”

You laugh and pull Charles onto the couch next to you. “You’re cute when you pout.”

He tries to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smile. “I can’t help it, I’m freaking out! Do you know how dry airplanes are? My skin is going to be a flaky desert by tomorrow.”

You run a hand through his hair. “Aww poor baby. However will you cope without your six hundred dollar moisturizer?”

Charles narrows his eyes at you. “You joke, but this is serious stuff. Do you want a boyfriend with wrinkles and acne?”

“I mean, a few wrinkles never hurt anyone,” you say, kissing his cheek.

He gasps dramatically. “Don’t even joke about that! I’ll be twenty seven soon, wrinkle prevention needs to start now.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Most twenty seven year olds aren’t this worried about wrinkles. But I guess Formula 1 drivers really are high maintenance.”

“With good reason! We can’t have crows feet interfering with our vision,” Charles says matter-of-factly.

You give him a look. “You’re just making things up now.”

Charles holds your hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “Mon amour, you must understand. Athletes age in dog years. We need anti-aging products just to keep up.”

You burst out laughing, shoving him playfully. “You’re so full of it!”

Charles grins cheekily. “But you love me anyway.”

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. “Yeah I do. Even if you are a high maintenance diva.”

Charles puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive! My skincare is obviously very important to me.”

You snuggle up next to him, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tell me all about this super special moisturizer.”

His eyes light up. “Well first of all it contains like crushed up diamonds or something. And they freeze each jar before shipping it to keep the ingredients ultra fresh.”

You make a mental note to Google this later, since it sounds completely absurd that diamonds would be an effective skincare ingredient. Though with Charles, you can never be too sure.

“Uh huh, diamonds. That’s totally normal,” you say, playing along.

“Exactly! And the founder makes sure each jar charges under the energy of a full moon before it’s sold. It’s really an intricate artisanal process.” Charles sighs longingly.

You smile and kiss his pouting lips. “You’re cute. I promise your skin will survive one night without magic moon diamonds.”

Charles snuggles against your shoulder. “I know, I know. Skincare is just part of my routine, it makes me feel relaxed and put together. And smelling like citrus blossoms is an added bonus.”

You kiss the top of his head. “I get that. Hopefully the airline finds your stuff soon. But in the meantime, want me to see if anyone sells La Mer nearby?”

Charles perks up. “Ooh yes, let’s check! I saw they have a Dior down the block too.”

You laugh and take his hand. “Of course they do. Come on, let’s go spoil you with new overpriced skincare products until yours turn up.”

***

You walk into the kitchen and see your boyfriend standing at the counter, a pile of uncooked spaghetti next to him. He takes a portion in his hand … which he proceeds to snap in half before dropping it into the pot of boiling water on the stove.

“Charles! What are you doing?” You exclaim in shock.

He turns to you, confused. “What do you mean? I’m just making sure the pasta will fit better in the pot.”

“But you can’t break spaghetti before cooking it!” You say incredulously. “That’s like a cardinal sin in Italy!”

Charles laughs. “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal. The pasta will cook just fine this way.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Il Predestinato is out here breaking pasta. Do you have any idea how offensive Italians would find this?”

“I’m sure they will survive the absolute tragedy of some broken spaghetti,” he jokes.

You nod to your phone. “It’s a good thing I’m recording this for posterity then. The whole country needs to know about this travesty.”

Charles’ eyes go wide. “What? No, don’t record me!” He reaches for your phone but you spin away, giggling.

“The people of Italy deserve to know the truth about their hero!” You declare dramatically.

“Mon ange, please give me the phone,” he pleads, trying to grab your arm. You dance out of reach.

“Truth and justice will prevail!” You continue recording as Charles chases you around the kitchen island.

“Come on, delete it! This could start an international incident if it gets out!”

You pause to catch your breath, phone held high. “An international inchident? Wow, look at you being all dramatic now. I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I didn’t think you’d actually record it as blackmail material! Please, mon amour, I’m begging you, delete the video.”

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm I don’t know … this seems like prime viral video content. Scuderia Ferrari Driver Destroys Pasta, Enrages Italy. Can you imagine the views it would get?”

“Y/N!” Charles lunges forward and tackles you onto the living room couch. You shriek with laughter as he tries to pry the phone from your grip.

“Noooo my video!” You yell dramatically.

Charles pins your arms above your head with one hand and reaches for the phone with the other. “Give it to me!”

You squirm underneath him. “Never!”

He leans down until his face is just inches from yours. “What’s it going to take for you to delete that video, huh?” His voice is low and gravelly.

You catch your breath, hyper aware of his body pressing against yours. “I don’t know, what are you offering?” You ask cheekily.

Charles brushes his nose against yours. “What if I made you your favorite dinner tomorrow night?”

You tilt your chin up in defiance. “That’s all I get for deleting potential internet gold? I don’t think so.”

He moves even closer, his lips just barely grazing your cheek. “Okay, what if I take you out for a nice date too? Dinner and a show at the opera, your choice.” His breath is warm against your skin.

You close your eyes for a second, affected by his closeness but not ready to give in yet. “Tempting, but I think this video is worth even more than that.”

Charles makes a small noise of frustration before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You melt into it for a blissful moment before pulling back slightly.

“Well that’s certainly a start,” you murmur, your heart racing.

Charles lets go of your hands to cradle your face tenderly. “Mon cœur, please delete the video. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

You search his eyes intently. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he confirms fervently before kissing you again, deeper this time.

You wrap your arms around his neck and give yourself over to the kiss. After several heated moments, you gently break away.

“Okay fine, I’ll delete the video on one condition.”

Charles looks at you warily. “Name it.”

“You have to let me drive your Ferrari.”

Charles groans and drops his head against your shoulder. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You laugh and pat his head consolingly. “Those are my terms.”

He lifts his head to grin ruefully at you. “You drive a hard bargain. But for the sake of Italian nonnas everywhere, I accept your deal.”

You lift up your phone and pretend to wipe away a tear. “The souls of broken spaghetti can finally rest easy.”

Charles just shakes his head before leaning down to silence you with another deep kiss. As you lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, you quietly move the video into an encrypted folder. After all, you never know when it might come in handy.

***

You raise an eyebrow as you watch Charles carefully pour Red Bull into his Ferrari water bottle. “Do you buy those in bulk?” You ask with a laugh.

Charles gasps in exaggerated outrage. “Buy from the enemy? Never!” He screws the cap on tightly and gives you a sly grin. “Max and I have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” You echo in surprise. This is news to you.

Charles nods, looking pleased with himself. “Yes, a secret trade deal. I provide him cappuccinos from the Ferrari cafe and Max supplies me with as much Red Bull as I need.”

You burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You and Max smuggle each other contraband caffeinated drinks?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Charles glances around furtively, but the motorhome is empty except for the two of you. “It must remain a secret.”

Still chuckling, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “So the great Charles Leclerc betrays his team for energy drinks. The Tifosi would riot if they knew!”

Charles winces dramatically. “Do not say such things! It is not betrayal, merely … creative problem solving.” He takes a long swig of Red Bull and grins. “The taste of the enemy is sweet.”

“I can’t believe you drink that stuff. And I can’t believe Max is your supplier!” You shake your head in amusement. “Does anyone else know about this arrangement of yours?”

“Only Lando. We needed a neutral third party to broker the deal and make the exchanges.” Charles leans in with a playful smile. “So do not be getting any ideas about exposing our scheme, yes?”

You mimic zipping your lips. “My lips are sealed … as long as you share some of that!”

Charles pretends to think about it for a second before breaking into a grin and handing you the bottle. The carbonated liquid fizzes pleasantly on your tongue, the familiar flavor mingling with the surrealness of drinking Red Bull from a Ferrari bottle. You take one more sip then hand it back to Charles.

“Just don’t let Fred or Christian find out,” you warn teasingly. “Pretty sure this counts as treason.”

Charles just laughs. “They turn a blind eye. The team knows I perform best when properly caffeinated.” He caps the bottle and adds, “But no more for you, ma belle. I only have a limited supply!”

You pout dramatically. “Fine, keep your precious Red Bull. I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone what’s really in your water bottle!”

The can of Red Bull that Charles rushes to give you tastes even sweeter than usual.

[periprose]

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

[forever-rogue]

TASM!Peter thought I cannot get out of my head for the life of me: Reader pestering him about him and his weird spider abilities like Ned in the MCU movies, but he’s just so loving and patient because he knows he’s weird and she’s naturally curious

AN | Imagine finding out your boyfriend is Spider-Man. It’s going to leave you with a lot of questions, isn’t it?❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter?”

“This isn’t what it-”

“No way!”

“Babe, this is not. I”m not-”

“Holy fuck.”

“Please, you’re dreaming. I’m not actually-”

“Spider-Man,” you blinked a few times and scrubbed at your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But when you looked back at your boyfriend he was still standing there, halfway between the window and bathroom, mask in hand and spandex still covering his body. He looked entirely mortified at having been caught, “Peter.”

“Honey, it’s not…I…” he hung his head and let out a long sigh, annoyed with himself for being so careless, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re Spider-Man,” it was all setting in and you weren’t quite sure how to feel; it was a wild mixture of excitement and annoyance and worry and love - everything all at once, “I…you never told me. We’ve been together for almost three years.”

“I know, sweetheart…it was just better than way,” he tossed the mask onto the couch and took a few steps closer to you. You tensed up and shook your head, “I just wanted to keep you safe. That’s all.”

“You lied to me,” you pouted at him and that was enough to break his heart. If there was anything he hated in the world, it was seeing you upset, “for years.”

“I didn’t lie,” he tried softly but you huffed at him, “purposely. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Everything I do is to protect you.”

“I feel so stupid,” you scrubbed a hand over your tired face in exasperation. All the weird quirks and odd comings and goings seemed to make sense. It felt almost silly that you hadn’t put the pieces together before. Peter wasn’t exactly subtle, “all this time. The random bruises and cuts…the times you suddenly have to leave - your weird schedule. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? I…Peter Parker.”

“Baby-”

“You’re trying to keep me safe but what about you?” a deep frown settle on your features and Peter shook his head, trying to keep you from going down that particular train of thought, “oh my god. Anything could happen to you! And what if…if something did happen, how would I know?”

Peter gently shushed you, his strong hands settling on your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. You looked at him, studying his big honey brown eyes and tried to keep the tears in your own eyes from spilling over, “nothing is going to happen to me, I swear it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“It isn’t funny,” you sniffled as a few tears ran down your cheeks, quickly and tenderly wiped away by Peter, “I love you, you dumb bug. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, “you know why?”

“Why?” you huffed softly, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss to it.

“Because I have to get home to you,” he smiled softly, looking more boyish than anything. You exhaled slowly but nodded, “I’m always going to come home to you. There’s nothing I want more.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he agreed and you allowed yourself to relax slightly, “by the way, spiders aren’t bugs. Spiders are spiders…well arachnids but they’re a completely separate thing.”

“Fine, you big dumb spider,” you let out a small laugh before playfully rolling your eyes, “you’re just lucky you look in spandex.”

“Yeah?” he teased, turning in a circle and striking a pose, “you think?”

“Shut up,” you groaned as he laughed, “just come to bed with me. But just so you know, this conversation isn’t over.”

“I would expect nothing less, love.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It took some time to get used to the idea of Peter, your sweet, nerdy, wonderful boyfriend, being Spider-Man. He just never seemed capable of something like that but when you really thought about it, it all made sense. Peter was brilliant and had a kind soul; him helping people just went hand in hand with who he was. 

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over your worries that something would happen to him - just like he wanted to protect you, you wanted to protect him. That, however, didn’t negate the fact that you had numerous questions for him. You wanted to know everything you could about him well, his spider abilities rather. 

You were curious, luckily Peter loved that curiosity. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Where do your webs come from?” you’d been wrapped up in the book you were reading but the question suddenly hit. Peter was sitting across the couch from you, doing some work on his laptop. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, causing your face to warm up, “I just…you have webby stuff, right? Like…where does it come from?”

“Web shooters,” he answered simply, closing his laptop with a soft laugh and giving you his full attention, “it doesn’t come out of my body, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But spiders have it-”

“Not a spider,” he reminded you as you closed your book and tossed it on the coffee table, “human-spider hybrid. Kind of. I think that’s what you’d call it.”

“Why don’t they call you Human-Spider-Hybrid-Man?” you made a small sound of surprise as Peter reached over and gently maneuvered you onto his lap. His large hands settled on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “wouldn’t that be more accurate?”

“You’re overthinking it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t make it in my body. I make it at the lab.”

“My genius Human-Spider-Hybrid,” you grinned at him and he couldn’t help but return the smile. To say he adored you was putting it lightly, “will you show me sometime? I wanna see it in action.”

He cocked his head to the side as he let go of your waist and held his arms up. You looked at him in confusion and he pulled back the sleeves of his sweater, “they’re right here.”

“Oh,” you reached for one of his arms and looked over the small band around his wrist, “oh? I always thought they were just…bracelets.”

“That’s the point,” he said as you made a small sound of revelation. You held his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, “it’s really not that exciting.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” how could he think being Spider-Man wasn’t exciting? You took his face gently in your hands as you studied the pretty boy, “you are always fascinating and exciting to me.”

“That’s because you love me,” he put his hands on top of yours and give them a squeeze, “you’re biased.”

“I do love you - very much,” you agreed, “but I’d still think the same regardless, Peter Parker.”

He paused before nodding slightly, “I love you too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter could feel you watching him, despite your best efforts to remain subtle. It should be noted, however, that your best efforts were pitiful; you might have been openly gawking at him. He stopped what he was doing and turned to you with a small little smirk on his features, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“That’s your area of expertise not mine, Parker,” you weren’t going to bother denying that he’d caught you. You walked over to the kitchen and hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you watched him finish putting away the dishes, “but you make a pretty picture.”

“And yet still not nearly as beautiful as you,” he put the last mug into the cabinet before turning on his heel and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “why were you watching me like a creepo, huh?”

“I wasn’t watching you! Not like a creepo,” your cheeks warmed up as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, “I was just…admiring.”

“Uh huh,” he teased, settling his arms on the counter and caging you in, “ admiring. You’re cute. Now tell me what you’re really thinking about.”

“It’s stupid,” you offered him a sheepish smile but Peter just tutted at you before nudging his nose against yours, “promise not to laugh?”

“I promise,” he whispered sweetly, “you know you can tell me anything.”

“It’s a question,” you paused for a moment, “are you like super, super strong? ‘Cause aren’t spiders like proportionally strong?”

Peter leaned back and laughed softly, causing you to gently shove his shoulder. Not that it would matter - he was basically unmoveable. He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours before you could say anything, “sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh - I’m a horrible, terrible liar. It’s just…you’re precious.”

“Shut up,” you couldn’t deny that inside you were beaming from his praise, “I am not precious! Just curious.”

“I’m pretty strong,” he explained softly as you nodded, “maybe not the strongest being in the galaxy but its up there. I can show you sometime.”

“That’s why you can move things so easily,” it made sense now, why he never seemed to have an issue with moving the furniture or carrying in all the groceries at once, “wow. You’re amazing. The Amazing Spider-Man.”

“Not amazing,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you off the counter, easily and effortlessly holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck, “just basically a mutant freak.”

“You’re my mutant freak,” you buried your face in his chest, but not before pressing a kiss to his neck, “that I love, very much.”

“The mutant freak loves you very much too,” you could feel the laughter rumble in his chest as you allowed yourself to melt into him, “curious girl.”

“Can’t blame me,” he could feel you grinning against his skin, “not everyday you find out boyfriend is Spider-Man.”

“True,” he agreed, “I’d be pretty shocked if I found out my boyfriend was Spider-Man.”

“Peter!” this time you were laughing too as he started to walk you both down the hall towards the bedroom, “where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” he rasped, “I can show you how strong I am.”

“Oh,” you felt your entire body warm up, “yes please.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late at night, but you weren't feeling too tired just yet. You were in bed, staring at the ceiling and deep in thought as Peter laid next to you reading. You liked listening to him make some small sounds as he read and the sounds of the pages turning.

“I'm not a mind reader but you're thinking much too loudly,” Peter stole a quick glance at you, causing you to scoff loudly as you rolled onto your side so your back was to him, “honey.”

“Mind your business, Parker,” you burrowed further into your pillow, “I was just staring at the ceiling.”

“Hmm,” he mused softly, “what's your silly question of the day?”

“Excuse- first of all, my questions aren't silly,” you sat up right and crossed your arms over your chest, “and secondly, you're Spider-Man! I have a million questions. Don't be a jerk.”

“I am not,” he insisted through a few giggles as you smacked him with a pillow. You knew that you'd never hurt him which just made the situation all that much more ridiculous, “I love your curiosity. I love all the little things that cross your mind.”

“Now you're just pitying me,” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled in between his legs so the the two of you were facing one another. He put his large hands on your calves and gave them a gentle squeeze, “Pete.”

“I love you, you know?” He asked softly as you nodded. If there was anything you knew in the world it was that Peter Parker adored you to no end. But then, you loved him just ask much, “you never gotta worry about asking me anything. So come on baby, tell me.”

“Fine. Fine,” you groaned softly before mumbling your question to him, “can you like stick to walls and stuff?”

You'd said it so quickly and fast that Peter hadn't caught what you were saying, “pardon?”

“Ugh,” you huffed, “do you have the ability to crawl on the walls and ceiling like real spiders? Or is something your weird mutant DNA didn't get.”

Peter tried his best not to laugh but he could barely stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up, “yeah, babe, that is something I can do.”

“Whoa,” you watched as Peter stuck his hand to the wall and showed you how it stuck, “that's so cool. Kinda gross but cool.”

“It's definitely gotten me out of a few scrapes before,” he admitted, “I'll take you for a ceiling walk some time.”

Your face lit up with pure excitement before your brows furrowed in confusion, “will our kids have your spidey thingies? What did you call it the other day? Spidey senses?”

Peter had stopped processing anything you were saying as soon as he’d heard our kids. It had stocked something deep within him. He only came back to reality when he felt you tickling his side, “our kids? What do you mean our kids?”

“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up as you bit your lips and shrugged lightly, “I dunno, I just think about it sometimes. You know, one day we’ll have kids. We’ve always talked about that. Unless…you changed your mind?”

“No!” he said much too quickly as a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “I haven’t changed my mind. I-I want kids. With you. Only you.”

“Good,” you relaxed slightly as Peter’s entire face turned bright red, “so what do you think? Will they be part mutant spiders?”

“I don’t know exactly how that works,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him, “maybe it would be inherited or not. I’m not a geneticist.”

“No,” you shook your head as you took his hand in your face, “just a biophysicist and biochemist. Hardly anything to brag about.”

“I’m basically a professional clown,” he grinned as you traced your fingers along the contours over his face. He was so pretty and you loved getting to have him just like this, gentle and quiet and all yours. He took one of your hands in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “luckily I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you too, Peter Parker,” you pulled him into a tight hug; if he had been a normal person you might have crushed him a little too much. Luckily, he was able to withstand your embrace and tenderly hugged you right back, “my Spider-Man.”

“All yours,” he agreed easily, “all yours.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was spring now, and the nights were gentle and warm, finally not filled with rain as they seemed to have been the entire winter. You were leaning out the window and taking in the sights and sounds of the New York evening. 

You heard the door to the apartment open, followed by Peter’s familiar footsteps. Before you could turn around to greet him, you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You sighed softly as you pressed your body into him, “hello my love.”

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear, “what are you doing hanging out the window?”

“Just admiring the city,” you turned around so you were facing him, “and now I’m admiring you. I’ve got another question for you, my spider.”

“Which is?”

“Will you take me swinging?” you asked softly, a nervous little expression on your face. Peter’s face grew into a large smile as he nodded eagerly. He’d imagined what it would be like with you loads of times before. He never thought he’d get to make it an actual reality, “but promise you won’t drop me?”

“I swear I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, “and I promise you’ll have fun. Whenever you’re ready, just say the-”

“I’m ready,” you said excitedly as Peter laughed softly, “can we go now?”

“Yes,” he kissed your cheeks, “let me go and change. Then we’ll go swinging.”

“You’re the best, Parker,” you grinned at him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he looked at you with soft heart eyes, “my spider girl.”

[darling-im-wonderstruck]

you’re always gonna be mine ✧

request : “hello! could you please write something where peter is telling reader how he no longer remembers when he last called reader by her name bc he’s constantly using pet names and it’s all about young love and it’s just 🥺”

synopsis : late nights with peter never failed to put your heart at ease at the end of each long day. all your worries and doubts seem to disappear in his presence, including your fears about first loves (and first heartbreaks).

pairing : peter parker x reader

wc : 772

warnings : nothing worth warning ! mostly fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst if you squint ! + normal sized text below !

a/n : hii <3 it’s been so longgggg, i hope this fic makes you smile as much as it did for me ! would love to thank @strawberrystarcake, my beloved sister for the summary <;3 this and @parkerpeter24 + @toms-gf for encouraging me throughout the process and giving me their opinions (love you guyss) 💞 this was a request from my old blog that i only ended up writing now :’)

“random thought, but i honestly don’t remember when i started calling you babe instead of your name.” peter blurts out, seemingly out of nowhere.

it was late at night, you two were all snuggled up in bed, your head rested atop his chest, just about to take a well deserved good night’s rest. right now, he’s unbelievably adorable though. his eyes were halfway closed, his heartbeat steady, and he sported a soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but return.

you two were basically tangled together, your right hand holding his right, your left gently playing with his hair.

“mm, i can relate. though, i do prefer using lovebug for you.” you smile, removing your hand from his hair and focusing your attention on playing with his hands instead.

“spiders aren’t technically bugs though, they’re arachnids.” he says, earning an eye roll from you.

“shut up.” you chuckled, causing his already present smile to widen.

“but, in all seriousness, i do love that pet name.”

 “in all seriousness, i’m pretty sure that you’ll love anything i say.” you half joke, though, it’s honestly somewhat true.

“you’re right. it’s sort of concerning at this point.” he laughs softly. “wait a sec… is that my shirt?”

“you mean our shirt? yes.” you respond, a proud look on your face.

“well, it looks lovely on you, way better than it does on me.” he looks at you with pure admiration.

moments with peter like this were rare, and so you treasured them. moments of relaxation and peace, it seemed as if the world had gotten in the way of you and peter up until this point.

and you were scared.

scared that, it was some sort of sign. people say young love’s a loss or a lesson for a reason. but somewhere in you, you knew (hoped) that you two would be the exception. but being like this, with peter was what took all your doubt away, and where the doubt was, it was replaced with all the love you could ever give and hope for.

this, is where you always wanted to be. this is what you always wanted to feel.

a moment of silence followed, comfortable silence. just enjoying each other’s presense. god, you loved this.

“i love you.” you say, breaking the silence.

peter leans in, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he whispers, “i love you too. more than i could ever express with words.”

“you’re actually perfect.” you smile, gently tapping the tip of his nose, immediately causing a flush of bright pink to spread throughout his face. “my everything.” you add.

“you, my princess, are my entire world.” 

you look down, causing a look of concern on peter’s face, “do you ever get scared?” you sigh, looking up, straight into his eyes.

“scared of…?”

“i dont know, just, this, all of this, going away?” you mumbled softly, but peter heard you, and most importantly, he understood you.

“well, if i’m being honest? yes. sometimes i am scared. i’m afraid that we’ll lose what we have because i feel like i have everything i need, here, with me, and the thought of losing it all? terrifying. but, i think that we’re,,, timeless in a way.”

“timeless?”

 “timeless. i almost feel like, no matter what happens, we’re intertwined. i like to think that, at least. like, no matter what timeline, no matter how many years back or in the future, no matter the universe,” he chuckles softly, “you’re still mine and i’m still yours. i dont think that any possible version of me wouldn’t have fallen for you and i think you still wouldve fallen for me too. i mean, who wouldnt?” you giggled at that, softly hitting his arm.

“i guess those thoughts give me comfort, assurance, almost. ‘cause it tells me that, this,” he tightens his grip on your hands, “what we have, is something unbreakable and meant to be. besides, i’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon.” he shoots you a wink, which, you honestly found cute.

“y’know what? i don’t think i have much to worry about anymore.” you say slowly, looking up from peter’s chest to get a look of his face. the sight of his messy curls and skin illuminated by the moonlight from your window made your heart melt.

“oh?” he grins, making eye contact with you. “yeah, not when i have you. you always know what to say. and… you’re right, you still would’ve turned my head.”

a/n : thank you for reading loves ! i don’t allow any reposting if my work here, or on any other platforms. reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated, luv you all ! requests are open xx

tagging a few of my mutuals ! (hope you guys don’t mind <3 i wont be tagging you guys every time tho ! just for now bc i dont really have a taglist yet) : @live-laugh-lovejoy @cagethemunson @saturnpeter@tomsholland2412 @jesslockwood @maraistookmyheart

[comfortless]

sylly (like silly yk yk) what are your könig hcs? 🌹

SYLLY?! i…. Ok…. fair warning this is a little long… all that i do is think about this guy someone get him out of my head.

tread carefully reading this! there is a lot of sensitive content here: mental health stuff, abuse, mentions of sex and pornographic material, suicidal ideation, etc etc.

Generic, silly headcanons:

He prefers coffee (black) over tea, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth (will never resist caramel if it’s presented to him). Honestly, he’s pretty self-reliant when it comes to food, too. On lazy days, he makes enough to where a takeout bill is hardly a concern, but for the most part he cooks! Not a chef by any means, but nothing he ever makes is bad!

Definitely wants a big, loving family, the polar opposite of what he had growing up as an only child in a far less than perfect household. Not a dealbreaker, but he does yearn for all of the love that he’s missed out on and then some.

Not big on video games, but… I do think he is absolutely spending every lonely leave playing Elder Scrolls. Would be so easy to convince to go larping or to a renfaire. I see everyone’s car/bike guy headcanons and I raise you… obsessed with fantasy König. He loves history and myth!! Why not combine the two and see him in chainmail.

The scent & kink posts. But to add… he’s an affectionate biter. (,: Knows the correct places to do so that won’t cause damage or hurt too terribly much. Likes to sniff you just as well! The embodiment of the “merge souls with me” post; in love, he just wants to feel you any way that he can and have some part of you lingering on him, even if it’s just a stray hair or your scent clinging to his shirt or pillowcase.

Cheating is never on this guy’s mind when he’s in a relationship. If he’s found a lady not running for the hills the second she catches sight of him, that’s his one and only. Sure, he may find himself attracted to someone else at some point or other during the duration of a relationship, but he’s devoted and disciplined! There’s never the fear of anyone coming in between he and his lover. He’ll spoil you with gifts, clingy to a point it’s overbearing, always giving you the utmost care… but is not opposed to bullying you into being a submissive, trembling mess either. He’s balanced!

Adores animals. Like any of them. There’s a special place in his heart for cats, but having a constant companion that he can take on hikes like a large dog would be ideal. Would definitely consider owning a tarantula or a snake, too. ^^ He isn’t scared of anything, let alone a creature that most are misinformed about… (he projects a little..). He would treat them just as well as anyone would treat a more “normal” pet. Understanding if you wouldn’t want to hold a giant arachnid (they’re delicate and you squirming over it would make him a bit protective over the poor thing. ): ), but it would mean a lot to him if you were more accepting.

König would not be a pretty sight (to most people) the majority of the time… I doubt that he takes care of himself past training his body and his allotted one-two minute military showers. His character description describes what is rumored to be under his mask as scary. Let him have his buzzcut, and scars, and teeth or old wounds a little too fucked up to fix! Unconventionally attractive is still attractive! (i think his ‘face reveal’ is actually so cute…)

Lots of sporadic little thoughts, but… Ambidextrous, can not ride a bike, whistles/hums to fill lapses of silence, flexes his fingers/cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, definitely snores (loudly), brushes his teeth like 3-4 times a day (when he can) because he eats so much, not a picky eater at all, thinks it’s cute if you’re affectionately a little grossed out by him from time to time, absolutely the kind of person that thinks fuel and fire smell good, fluent in English and German but certainly knows many words and phrases from other languages.

Kind of clumsy. Overthinks the way his body looks to the point where sometimes his movements are a little stiff. Overestimates how tall a door frame may be if he’s distracted in the presence of others, hits his head and plays it off like he didn’t even notice. He’s (obviously) highly confident on the field, but in regular circumstances it’s totally reversed.

Though. Yeah. Sometimes this does translate onto the field. Can’t stay in one place for too long, once knocked an enemy soldier out by barreling into him. He’s a quick shot, skillful with any weapon that falls into his hands, but his focus can get a little skewed.

He collects some things. Nothing exactly pricy, but antique knives, coins, and a pocket watch or two. And he isn’t the most apt at putting things together in an appealing way… The first time you’re allowed into his house it looks like he’s robbed some vintage hunting shop/is planning something nefarious with the way he’s just got a few daggers strewn about his kitchen table. Just push them to the side, it’s fine! (His favorite is certainly one with a handle carved from a stag’s antler.)

Definitely takes a physical approach to bad feelings. @melancholic-thing mentioned to me that he bites himself when he’s feeling dejected or frustrated and yeah. (All of Ghost’s hcs for him are factually correct.) Not going to punch a hole through the wall but may aggressively slam a door or raise his voice before he can catch himself.

I have many thoughts about König’s childhood/early adulthood. Like, too many. But to summarize…

I think that everyone experiences bullying to an extent but what would make it so bad that it managed to make its way into the scraps that we do have of him? What made him so fundamentally unlikable to his peers? /: With my König I’ve settled on it being a blend of neurodivergency and a nightmare home life and alienation from his peers.

Height is predominantly viewed as a good trait. I don’t think it was necessarily his appearance at all that got him picked on so heavily (albeit… I do think that he would have had some scars, crooked teeth, regular facial bruising or cuts from scraps with other children/his father). Perhaps not the most conventionally attractive guy around, but normally viewed as a solid 5/10, just average. The kind of person who you wouldn’t remember from just a face alone.

His personality was always memorable though.

Whilst the other children/teenagers were interested in the regular trends, sports, whatever was shown on the television or heard on the radio at the time, I think he probably would have had a great interest in escapism!!

Comics, books, researching history and geography, etc, anything that could keep him from thinking of where he was/what other people viewed him as. He had a lot of strange things to say: odd facts (like the kind of person to tell you the longest word in the dictionary because he thinks it’s cool, “um actually—“ to correct something, monologuing about some bug you’ve just squashed and how it was not just a pest but very useful in nature, borderline concerning reactions to being shunned (feigned threats of violence that he would laugh off, things he’s probably heard from media and his own parents), over explaining himself for the simplest of misunderstandings, and… quoting his Oma’s very old-fashioned turns of phrase (think of little Kö regularly saying “Du gehst mir tierisch auf den Keks.” when he’s annoyed whereas the others say things far less dated like “Du gehst mir auf den Sack.”)

With him being difficult to relate to and having the most uncanny things slip out of his mouth, others probably did view him as a bit of a freak. He didn’t particularly stand up for himself often either apart from a few fights (and would never hit a girl). He would stay quiet, pretend to focus on his studies or whatever else was before him while the other children jeered and taunted. Regularly a target for fake confessions and offers to hang out outside of school, too.

König did have crushes, did have people he thought were cool and wanted to befriend, but after the third time of showing up someplace that he had to walk to on his own to find that no one had actually wanted to spend their time with him, he gave up.

I don’t think he had a good relationship with his parents or much of anyone. Seriously, leaving for the military at seventeen sets off a ton of alarm bells! He left the week of his Oma’s passing, because what else was there for him — no girlfriend, no prospects, hardly a relationship with his mother or father.

His father was your standard shit parent— womanizing, loud, physically abusive towards König. “Bonding” activities with him always had a heavy lean towards violence: hunting and arguing that usually resulted in fist fighting his own son seemed to be his favorites. A small man with an equally small ego— he probably would have boasted about his affairs to König, exposed him to pornography as a way of making sure his son wasn’t anything other than straight (which: never stopped his curiosity). He would never hold back from telling König that he would never in a million years find a girl willing to put up with his supposed stupidity and shortcomings. Generally just viewed his own son as utterly worthless if not for use as a punching bag.

In turn, König always loathed him, would dread hearing the bastard just walking around the house because he knew he would always find something to bicker with his wife or son over. Nothing that they ever did would be deemed correct, and his social anxiety initially developed from his dealings with him.

His mother was withdrawn, emotionally neglectful. König was just… there to her; another mouth to feed, another person begging for the attention she would have rather spared on herself.

She wasn’t a bad mother and she did try, but the product of dealing with his father’s nonsense + letting her own mental illness go unchecked (as in, his father controlled the family financially and why would he let her blow through their funds to see a therapist and “lose her lucidity with pills and ridiculous talks”). There were some days when she would be feeling more like herself and take König along with her for walks through the park where she would try to ask him about his life, about school, and… he would end up spilling his guts to her only for her to return to silence. Still, those were his favorite days. His fondest memory was picking a flower for her on one of those walks, one that she kept pressed and later framed.

There were never family dinners, no movie nights, no day trips or vacations. The most blissful of days were spent in the comfort of his room where he could keep the door locked and muffle the sounds of his parents arguing with loud music.

So, König did not have much of a safe space within his own home, but he had his Oma and her cluttered little house. She had books and plenty of food, even a cat, too. Though she was like his mother, stern and withdrawn, she would at least sit with him and tell him stories of her own life. She would at least tell him “Ich lieb dich, Käferchen!” in her quiet voice, stroke his head where he would sit with his nose buried in a book beside her. She would show him her dusty antiques, her old photographs, and in turn taught him to be a proper man by making him tend to what needed to be done around her house. And the garden. He loved his Oma’s garden, full of orchids, petunias, and tomatoes she would mash up to make him goulash or tomatensalat!

With Austria’s leading religion being Catholicism, I do think his Oma would have dragged him with her to service plenty, too. Not that he ever particularly enjoyed it… just zoned out with a plastic soldier in his pocket to fidget with or some trading card he spent the money he earned doing chores for her on. He’s never considered himself religious, thought himself to be bound for Hell no matter what, even if most of the time he felt that he was already there.

You take a puppy that’s been beaten down his entire life, but still remains eager and throw him in a barrack with people more horrible than any bully he’s ever had, though…? He starts taking his father’s advice more and more then. He wouldn’t harm anyone that he didn’t view as deserving of it, but it didn’t need to go that far that often, anyway. König is aware of the space he takes up by then, aware that all of his training has made him more broad and sturdy, and those playground fights are nothing compared to what he’s capable of now.

He gets his callsign from a quip about him owning nothing. His barrack is empty, devoid of pictures or any sentimental belongings. He rarely checks his phone, there might be the occasional missed call from a spam number, what is there to even see? He has no social media presence, every leave is spent in a shitty apartment only a days travel from his hometown, and he is utterly silent when the other soldiers invite him out for drinks. So yes, he’s a king. The king of absolutely nothing.

One of these rowdy boys does eventually coax him into talking to a woman. He loses his virginity in a disgusting bar bathroom, where he asks her after the two minutes he’s spent inside of her if it means anything to her at all. She laughs, washes herself in the sink and calms him down, but doesn’t give him her number or anything more than her first name.

He’s starved for love, utterly miserable without it, but doesn’t have much of a desire to seek it out, either. He’s seen how people are, how they treat him. But time and time again he will grapple onto any thread that may lead him to a pinhole of hope when it’s offered to him. For the most part, he has his hand and a perpetually almost-empty bottle of lotion.

And it’s not much of a surprise that König has contemplated suicide more times than he can count. It has never culminated in any way, only fearing that he would disappoint his men, even further disappoint his parents, maybe even a small part of him still believes in a Hell; that maybe with enough vigilantism on his part he’ll earn his way to a pleasant afterlife, one he teeters on the separation of believing in and not.

He doesn’t think about his mental health, always haunted by his father’s words, thinking that assuredly it would make him weak if he were to seek help for something like his own thoughts. So he overexerts himself during workouts, bottles everything other than rage and love inside: no one is going to see him cry, not ever again after being laughed at for him hundreds of times during school where he sat being called an “ugly giant” a “daydreaming freak” and an “idiot” near daily where silent tears did escape, only spurring further laughter.

Though I do not write him with these things in mind for every au, there are always subtle hints scattered about. ^^ I could probably prattle on forever about him, but I will leave you with this for now…

[keiriiz]

General Chrollo Headcanons!

I will be making a separate post for my romantic/relationship headcanons of him! I’m a bit nervous because I know I’m in the minority with some of my views however I’m up for making a second part to this as this definitely isn’t all, or even expanding on certain things if anyone’s interest. My request box is always open ✨

✥ Chrollo has Autism Spectrum Disorder. Aside from his childhood trauma, this can also affect his ability to identify and express his emotions. He’s also a master of masking, but if he’s out and overwhelmed, he’s definitely stimming with his fingers when he places his hands in his pockets.

✥ Chrollo Lucilfer and “Boss” started off as two different identities. Being the Head of the Phantom Troupe was merely another role however over the years, Chrollo started to lose his individuality. He’s gotten lost in the idea of being a villain that being himself sometimes feels foreign, or he might not recognize it when that side of him comes out. It wasn’t just Sarasa that died that day, but a piece of himself as well.

✥ Chrollo himself is a bit childish. He gets a small glint of genuine joy in his eyes when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. Whether it’s a book series, the Power Cleaners, or certain species of arachnid. Seeing that side of him truly is something as it only comes out when he’s completely comfortable.

✥ On the other hand of that not, when he’s upset this also leads to him being pretty impulsive and making rather rash decisions. Chrollo is a master strategist but that can fall apart when pushed enough.

✥ Chrollo hums to himself when there’s a toon he’s fond of playing. Most times it’s subconsciously and he doesn’t even catch himself doing so unless it’s pointed out to him.

✥ This man hates crowds of people. Not being able to keep track of what everyone’s doing, the heat, the smell- It’s completely awful to him. It’s more overwhelming than most heists and if not on a job he will avoid them at all costs.

✥ Chrollo is very comfortable in his gender as a cis man but often indulges in things that are stereotypically feminine. Make up, painting his nails, even sporting a bit of women’s garments into his every day style.

✥ The Troupe as a whole is a found family of sorts, but Chrollo holds a particular closeness with the original members. The Spider he was closest with overall being Pakunoda.

✥ Given what we know about Nen, I believe Chrollo was born as a natural conjuror. Though with him changing as a person and honing his Nen for those three years, his aura adapted to specialization.

✥ Chrollo’s ethnicity is Japanese Italian. A true wasian man if I do say so myself. Though I feel he’s a bit more in touch with his Japanese heritage.

✥ He returns a lot to Meteor City outside of his Troupe affairs. He’s somewhat famous there and you bet there’s kids running up to him, gently tugging at his coat asking him to tell them about his “adventures”. Chrollo of course does so on his free time, sharing stories of their heists though somewhat spinning it to paint them as heroes akin to the Power Cleaners.

✥ Chrollo doesn’t kill innocent people unless they’re accidentally caught in the crossfire or truly it’s necessary like how he used the crowd in his fight with Hisoka.

✥ Chrollo suffers from insomnia due to being plagued by night terrors though aside from that he can honestly fall asleep anywhere if tired enough. It doesn’t matter if it’s the hair ground of the forest or a nice bed, he’ll make due.

✥ Of course if given a bed, you will definitely catch this man hugging/cuddling his pillow. And he definitely prefers to be completely smothered in blankets and pillows to feel like he’s been held. (I’ll say it now, he’s a little spoon)

✥ Chrollo is definitely a light weight when it comes to alcohol. He’s buzzed on two cheap beers so he’s always careful to restrain himself in that regard.

✥ He is a S class NERD. Chrollo will shame movie or show adaptations for their inaccuracies to their book counterparts. If someone brings up an obscure topic that he just so happened to read about, he’s making his knowledge known.

✥ Pretty much everyone is aware of Chrollo’s love for pudding but I’m here to say his love for sweets is endless. Cakes, ice cream, candies, chocolate- he literally can’t get enough. And bet your ass he’s suffered a deal of tooth pain during his younger years because of it. Though he’s good on his dental hygiene as an adult.

✥ Chrollo can naturally be quite competitive. Whether he’s playing chess or just entertaining a Troupe member’s game of hang man. He’s always going for the win.

✥ When he’s not masking, Chrollo’s genuine laugh is truly adorable. On the rare occasion he might even snort. (He’ll always deny that he did though)

✥ Being from Meteor City, Chrollo is on the most accepting and least judgmental people when it comes to LGBTQ, race, religion/culture, mental disorders, or any physical differences. He didn’t even know something like being gay or trans was looking down on in certain places of the world.

I hope you guys appreciate these. I truly can ramble about this man all day if you really want ❤️

[blues824]

hii could i get black butler characters (ciel, sebastian, claude, alois + undertaker) reacting to the reader who’s basically like has the same abilities as spiderman but they were from the future and now they’re in their world so they spend their time going on missions for the queen ? :O

Gender-neutral reader. Also, I hate spiders, so Claude is easily my least favorite character, but I somehow made his and Undertaker's the most romantic.

Ciel Phantomhive

He has heard word of a certain heroic figure that roams the streets of England. He ordered Sebastian to find out who exactly you were, and imagine his surprise when he found out it was you, who was a loyal servant to Her Majesty.

The young Phantomhive lord was definitely intrigued in your abilities, since you were completely human. He had you explain, and you had to tell him that you were from the future and the Queen employed you as her ‘knight in the night’ of sorts.

You two were often called lapdogs of the Queen, but your fights never ended in death. Yours ended in Scotland Yard getting ahold of the perpetrators and finding them wrapped up in spiderwebs. Ciel had seen a crime scene that you had been at, and he was very weirded out by it.

One time, you stayed at the Phantomhive Manor overnight since you visited and a storm came on. Mey-rin was running with expensive china and she tripped. Your spidey-sense went off and you quickly caught the dinnerware. Ciel spat out his tea in shock as he stared at you with wide-eyes.

Sebastian Michaelis

He had also caught wind of the person who prowls around at night because of the morning paper. His master had ordered to unmask you, and he couldn’t say he was exactly surprised that it was you. You always came up with not-that-great excuses, so he kind of figured it out.

You remind him of his arachnid counterpart, Claude. Faustus was a spider demon, so the correlation was understandable. However, your personality differed greatly. Plus, you did work for the Queen rather than the Trancy brat.

Sebastian has had the opportunity to gaze upon your ‘victims’ at a crime scene, all wrapped within the web that you spun. It could serve as a metaphor: he was caught in the web of your heart, finally getting to experience what it was like to be the prey rather than the predator.

Once, when you had accepted the invitation to stay at the Phantomhive Manor, the two of you were up late at night and just relaxing in each other’s presence. Then, your spidey-sense was activated and you shot a web out and accidentally caught Bard. It was very amusing to your beloved demon, but he assisted in getting the chef out.

Alois Trancy

Out of pure curiosity and frustration, he ordered Claude to show him who you were. Upon snatching the mask off of your face, Alois let out a gasp of surprise. Why, it was Her Majesty’s other lapdog! How exciting!

You can not tell me that he wouldn’t have you use your abilities to amuse him. String up his servants to the chandelier to make him laugh as they tried their hardest to escape. It was inhumane, but we all know how he is.

He has seen photographs of crime scenes where criminals are stuck in webs for the police to easily detain them, and he thinks it’s hilarious. The fact that those perpetrators were helpless as they got arrested just fueled the fire in him. 

One time, you two were out in the garden, and you had the very spontaneous idea to cling to a tree and swing. You told him to grab onto you (think MJ and Spiderman in Far From Home), and while it was a very small swing, Alois loved feeling the air on his face. He asked (demanded) you to do it again and again.

Claude Faustus

When Alois had ordered him to unmask you, he had no reaction in finding out that it was you. He already pieced it together weeks ago, considering this figure that stopped criminals came at the same time you were brought into the Queen’s court.

Two spiders just living their lives, one human and one demon. You both are caught in each other’s webs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, the abilities you have just compliment each other. You can shoot webs and he can evade them as well as break through them.

He has also had the opportunity to gaze upon a crime scene that you obviously visited, seeing as the criminals were wrapped in webbing. That’s actually how you met for the first time: you thought he was a perpetrator and you shot a web at him. He evaded it, but as your arm was out he grasped it and pulled you to his chest.

That moment is when he realized that you must have had another sense that told you he was suspicious. You later told him that it was your ‘spidey-sense’ and it was like an inhuman instinct that you frequently act upon.

Undertaker

He’s been quite sad because of the spider-like figure that has been arresting criminals rather than killing them so they end up in his shop. However, it was one day where he had decided to take a stroll to clear his mind and he saw you in an alleyway, with your costume still on but your mask was off.

What an amazing discovery! He wished he could dissect you so that he could find out how you got his abilities, but you were still alive and well. You just told him instead, how you were from the future and you got bit by a radioactive spider and that’s how you got your powers.

Undertaker has seen some crime scenes, and he’s utterly fascinated by how you shoot webs that leave the criminals immobile as the police and Scotland Yard come get them. You can not fight me when I say that when you both are romantically involved, he would kiss the web glands on your wrists. 

You both make a great couple, honestly. There have been a few times where your spidey-sense goes off when your boyfriend here tries to make a ‘doll’. They often try to attack you for some reason, so you shoot your webbing out. Undertaker rushes over to make sure you’re alright, worried that the doll had hit you.

[arc-misadventures]

The Unwilling One

Ren: Hey, Jaune, how goes the righteous questing of a Paladin?

Jaune: Oh, hey, Ren. It’s… It’s not, not going good.

Ren: Well, I guess it isn’t going good when you had to face a titan class Arachnid Grimm all on your own.

Jaune: Eh? Oh no that was easy. I just cut the back of its legs so it couldn’t run, then I smashed its head in with my sword. Bolstered by the sacred power of ‘Smite’ though. Several times.

Ren: Oh, then was it the time you held the breach in the wall at Mantle for three days straight, protecting the city from being flooded from a Grimm horde?

Jaune: Okay, I had help on that one! I didn’t do that all on my own. I wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long without all those mana potions. I did defend that ciry all on my own. Mostly yes, but not all of it!

Ren: Oh, okay…? Then was it because of that, Arc-Demon you slayed?

Jaune: Cinder Fall? Ha! She was egomaniac whose sole focus was on the accumulation of power. They always fail to comprehend the lie about power until it is too late to do so. Twas simple child’s play that one.

Ren: Then why is it not going good?

Jaune: …

Jaune: I have a harem…

Ren: Y-You have a Harem?

Jaune: A harem of shortstacks, well endowed shortstacks…

Ren: Shortstacks?

Jaune: It has a halfling, and a dwarf…

Ren: Good alignment creatures; that doesn’t sound so bad.

Jaune: And, a goblin, and a bloody succubus…

Ren: A-A succubus? Are you serious?!

Jaune: I thought I had two goblins following me around, but nope, turned out one of them was a freaking succubus…

Ren: A harem with a dwarf, a halfling, a goblin, and a succubus…? Why would a paladin make a harem with such kinds of members in it?!

Jaune: Do you think I planned this?! They’re the ones who have started all of this harem crap! It used to be the goblin, and the succubus who followed me around, always trying to get under my cod piece! Then the dwarf, and halfling showed up, then the goblin, and the dwarf kept fighting on, and on, and on, on who gets to sleep with me?! Don’t I have a say in all of this bullshit?! Ahh at least their fighting kept them off of me…

Ren: Not long I take it?

Jaune: Not long enough! That damn succubus struck a deal with the halfling to share me, share me?! Why don’t I get a say in all of this?! And, now that they’ve settled on who gets to have me, they’re fighting on who gets to go first?!

Ren: And, how is that going?

Jaune: Well, the halfling doesn’t care when she goes, she just doesn’t want to be first. She wants to ‘gather information’ before she proceeds any further.

Ren: That sounds reasonable, but given the context it does paint a rather… odd portrait.

Jaune: The succubus wants to go last so she can show me, ‘How a real woman does it.’ I would consider that empty boasting , but she’s a succubus so it ain’t a hollow threat.

Ren: Okay… W-What about the other two?

Jaune: Well, every other night for the past three weeks they’ve been ‘wrestling’ together to determine who’s the top bitch…

Ren: S-Seriously?

Jaune: Yes… I haven’t had a good nights sleep since they started, ‘wrestling.’

Ren: Nora’s the goblin in your team, right?

Jaune: I never said her name, how do you know I was talking about, Nora?

Ren: We may live different lives now, but we’re still friends. Close friends, but never as close as she wants to be with you. Besides, I’m a lanky elf. I may be a fighter, but I never had anywhere near the endurance that crazy goblin has, fortunately you do.

Jaune: Wait! A-Are you giving me your blessing?

Ren: Yes, yes I am.

Jaune: To sleep with, Nora…?

Ren: Indeed I am.

Jaune: …

Jaune: What the hell man?!

Ren: I tell you this to ease your conscience to let you understand that it is alright for you to engage in activities with, Nora, and if you so choose, those other girls as well.

Jaune: I know I was ranting about having an unwilling harem of horny shortstacks, but you’re making this feel really weird, and uncomfortable man.

Ren: I know, but I’m just telling you this to ease your conscience

Ren: …

Ren: And, to warn you.

Jaune: Warn me? Warn me about what?

Ren: Oh, nothing much, just that I taught, Nora some basic wrestling moves.

Jaune: You what?! What did you teach her?!

Ren: Simple stuff really. Moves to pin your opponent to the ground. Simple stuff like that.

Jaune: …

Jaune: You realize you’ve just fucked me over, haven’t you?

Ren: I did find it odd that she was asking for such advice in the first place. Oh well, it’s your problem now. So, good luck, Jaune!

Jaune: …

Jaune: I hate you…

[l3viat8an]

i like to think that if any of the demons were to have kids (biologically, not emotionally), the kids' symbolic animal would be similar to their dads. ex, fly papa beel and his butterfly kid or peacock dad lucifer with his hummingbird child

Wait this so cute omg-

Tho Asmo’s child could have spider, which is a little less cute but just as fitting!! (if I remember right spiders are closely related to scorpions because they’re in the arachnid family-)

and imagine Satan’s child is the only one who doesn’t have an animal similar to their dads. They don’t have a regular horse or anything like that. They have a cat- lolol

[fostydosty]

If I was gonna make 3 fundamental changes to the Riordanverse it would be these:

The demigods don’t influence wars and take station of high leadership, they’re *natural disasters*. What made the Big Three sign their pact? A zombie outbreak caused by children of Hades brought on by a battle between children of Zeus and Poseidon. Mortals remember this time as the Spanish Flu. We already see stuff like this with Typhon and the battle of manhattan— they just look like storms. The Black Plague was actually bc 40% of all Europeans were legacies at that point, and monsters started hunting down and killing any demigod who wasn’t strong enough to protect themselves. Went by the Black Death bc most of them were shadow creatures sent by Nyx who didn’t like the idea of that many godlings being in the world.

Demigods don’t all inherently have ADHD and Dyslexia, even if it is common. However *all* disabilities that a demigod has will have a benefit/power associated with it. Because they’re fkn demigods! Even their disabilities are superpowers! Oh, you have a hand tremor? Well you can run like a cheetah. Oh, you use a wheelchair? Well your upper body strength could make an ogre’s knees buckle. Eye trouble = ears of a hound. Narcolepsy/chronic fatigue = more potent powers. I feel like this would skirt the “magical disability” trope a bit since it’s not “you get ADHD from your magic parents therefore it’s fake ADHD” it’s “you have ADHD, but because you’re a magical demigod, you also get this.” I would also apply this to acquired disabilities btw. Amputation = magical demigod body reacts accordingly, focusing your half divine power into something else.

Children of Athena are adopted by Athena bc she sees potential in them, rather than them being her actual weird mind babies. I imagine her Blessing imparts all of the powers her demigods usually get, though they would only *smell* like demigods to arachnids. Also in my HC Annabeth runs away bc she feels like a burden on her parents bc she’s the only one with ADHD and dyslexia (even tho they don’t actually care, she still feels resented for struggling in school). Athena sees this mortal child willing to live on the streets and be independent when things don’t go her way and she says Thats My Girl Now and Annabeth becomes scared of spiders and starts seeing a sht ton of monsters everywhere.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

Another Miguel fanfic 🥲. This time envisioning him as my boss at work (please God, give me my soulmate! 😭).

1. Ergh, I don't really know if I want to write this ...

Part 1 - the protocol

Part 2 - the reveal

Part 3 - the suspicions

Part 4 - the thanks

2. I wrote it.

Warnings: None (not yet anyway ... 😈)

----------------------------------------------------------

Miguel gets X to do a new protein crosslinking protocol so they can send the arachnid protein they’re working on to some other company for analysis. 

     His gaze was fixed on her, his eyes tracking her every movement as she pipetted the different chemicals and counted down the seconds for each incubation. He was so close to her that she could feel his warm breath tickling her neck everytime he exhaled. It was driving her crazy. She ground her teeth together, trying to keep her hand stable as she dropped the liquid into the next vial, careful to not expel it too quickly. Another exhale, and he folded his arms across his chest this time, his expression unreadable as he watched her through his safety glasses. She tried to ignore him as she moved onto the next sample, adjusting the pipette so it would pick up the correct volume. He leaned over her shoulder, checking to see that she’d gotten the value right, his breath blowing a strand of her hair against the back of her neck. And that was when she lost it. She swivelled around, pushing her chair back slightly to put some space between them. 

     “Can you just …” She raised her hands, holding her palms out in a defensive stance. “Can you just give me some space? Please? I can’t work with you breathing down my neck like that.” He raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her sudden outburst. But she didn’t back down, meeting his gaze as she tilted her head questioningly, waiting for his response. 

     He froze. There was something about the way her rosy lips twisted into a pout as she looked up at him, the way her almond-shaped eyes widened in a glare and the way her hair fell over the side of her face when she tilted her head like that. Just something about … her. He moved his chair a foot away, giving her the space she’d requested, and she rewarded him with a smile. That sweet smile she'd always give him, tinged with just the slightest hint of mischief, lighting up the room every time she walked into it. He turned around as she returned to her work, logging onto his laptop and clicking back into his emails. He could leave her to the protocol, she was capable of handling it. In the meantime, he had his own work to look after.

     She'd been on her way out of the lab when Hui Fen ran up to her, eyes wide with curiosity. 

     “Oh my god,” she began, stopping X in her tracks. “Did you get in trouble?” Her lips were curved into a grimace and she'd always been nice enough to X for her to know that Hui Fen's concern was genuine. Concern for what, she didn't know. But concern all the same.

     “For what?” X asked, shooting her a quizzical glance. Hui Fen gestured to the lab, leaning in closer so no one else would hear. 

     “For how you talked to Miguel in lab?” X's brows scrunched even closer together, her confusion only growing with every statement Hui Fen made. 

     “No?” she replied, unsure if she'd read the situation wrong. He hadn't seemed mad at her. Not even a little irritated, his lips pursed in thought as he'd studied her. If anything, he'd seemed … embarrassed. She thought again about the tension she'd sensed overcome him after he'd moved a foot away from her. Not because he didn't trust her, but … Well, she supposed she didn't know the answer to that either. She narrowed her eyes at Hui Fen. “Why?” 

     This time it was Hui Fen's turn to look confused. She straightened, her lips turning down at the corners as she considered X's response. “Huh. That's weird. Everyone's usually too scared of him to talk to him like that.” 

     X shifted in position uncomfortably, not liking the way Hui Fen kept phrasing it. ‘How you talked to him’, ‘talk to him like that’. Like what? She shrugged her shoulders, trying to figure out how to end the conversation so they wouldn't start spreading rumours about her disrespecting her supervisor in the lab. 

     “He is kind of terrifying,” she acquiesced, nodding her head slowly. “But, I dunno. He's nice to me. I think he just knows I can do better.” It had not escaped her notice, how he always seemed more amenable to her suggestions, her ideas. And, evidently, it hadn't gone unnoticed by others in the lab too - she'd already had three people in the lab ask her to ask Miguel for something in the past week alone! But she couldn't look too much into it: aside from the fact that he was her boss, he was also way out of her league. He'd never be interested in her, no matter how hard she pushed herself in the lab. Well, at least she'd already made so much progress in the past six months she'd been here - he'd even trusted her to be the first to try out the new protocol earlier. She started backing away from Hui Fen, getting nervous by the pensive expression on her face. 

     “Well, anyway,” X began, inching over to the door out of the prep room, “I'm gonna go get lunch. See you!” 

     Hui Fen looked up, startled. She waved at X quickly, her brain abandoning whatever train of thought she'd been on. “Oh! Yeah! See ya!” 

     She sat at her desk, munching on her nuggets as she typed up her results. The pantry was too loud today, everyone and their mother yelling at each other in excitement about whatever they usually gossiped about. She couldn’t handle the noise, so she’d usually have lunch at her desk, ears plugged up with her earphones, phone set up with whatever supernatural YouTube channel she’d gotten obsessed with at that point. She’d sneak over to the coffee machine when things got quieter, in the late afternoon, maybe, when she could sit down with someone of the friendlier interns and have a quick coffee break. A hand landed on her desk and she looked up to find Miguel leaning on her table, lips curled in disgust as he took in her lunch. 

     “You really should be eating healthier, arañita,” he  chided her. Little spider. He’d started calling her that a few weeks after she’d started, when she’d bounced into their weekly team meeting with some new hypothesis about the arachnid proteins they’d been working on. She’d zipped over to the whiteboard, research papers in hand as she’d drawn out her ideas and whizzed through messy explanations of the jumble of thoughts in her mind. Everyone else had looked at her in confusion, their minds working to decipher whatever she’d been trying to explain. But he’d studied her with a newfound interest, his hand moving to hide the way his lips had twitched at the ends. ‘Good job, arañita,’ he’d told her, impressed. Then he’d gestured to the whiteboard, no longer able to hide the amusement plain on his handsome features. ‘I’ll need that in a presentation though. I don’t think anyone else would be able to understand otherwise.’ She looked up at him now, her lips curling at the corners in a challenging smirk. 

     “Well, I hate eating and I can't cook, so …” she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders and waiting for his response. He frowned harder, crossing his arms over his chest.

     “Well, why don't you learn?” he suggested, that chronic irritation clouding his voice as he glared down at her. She pulled her eyes away from his arms, trying to ignore the outlines of his muscles through the pale fabric of his shirt. Then she shook her head, maintaining the air of relaxed amusement that always had him making that one look of exasperation that had her stomach somersaulting like mad. 

     “Oh, no,” she held up her hands, stopping him immediately. “That is a horrible idea, Dr O'Hara. Everything I make turns out both raw and burnt. It's a curse! I'm kitchen-cursed.” She let out an exaggerated sigh and, just as she'd known it would, that look of exasperation came over his face. He raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at her, his lips quirked at the corner in question. She bit her lip, her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight. 

     “Sure,” he relented, not convinced at all. She was funny, sometimes, the way she'd say something she knew would get under his skin, then sneak a peek at him to gauge his reaction. It was like she just knew him, knew which buttons to push and when to push them. Not like other women with their forced jokes and uncomfortable attempts to flirt with him. She didn't ever flirt with him - well, not intentionally, anyway - and, if he were being perfectly honest with himself, he had to wonder why. She was cute and pretty … and smart too. Maybe she already had a boyfriend? No - he'd heard her talking with some of the interns once, and she'd said specifically that she'd never had a boyfriend. He found himself struggling to understand that, too. Was she not interested in men? No, she'd said she wanted one, in that same conversation. But anyway, this wasn't something he should have been worrying about; she was just his employee after all. Nothing more. And yet, here he was checking in on her to make sure she was taking care of herself. “At least get a salad or something.” 

     “Oh, um,” she winced at the idea, rubbing her stomach gently. “Vegetables are dangerous. I can get stuck on the toilet if I eat the wrong ones.” He ground his teeth, frustrated. 

     “There must be something you can eat!” he argued. “Other than … this.” He gestured at her food frantically and she bit on the inside of her cheek to stop her smile. She tilted her head to the side, thinking about it. 

     “Well, I do like …” she recited a few dishes off the top of her head that she enjoyed eating, delighting in the way his shoulders seemed to slump in defeat with every word out of her mouth. She rested her chin in her palms when she was done, looking up at him with a sweet smile that held an edge of challenge. He rolled his eyes and stalked away, going off to eat his own lunch.

[crevicedwelling]

generally speaking, would you say that buying juvenile bugs is the best way to avoid ending up with wild caught ones being lied about being captive bred? (obviously assuming that the person is aware of the extra care that goes into taking care of them when theyre small like that)

I’m not sure if there’s a choice, most of the time. a captive bred predatory arachnid/myriapod is very likely to be sold soon after it hatches because breeders aren’t likely to retain all 60-100 of a clutch of tarantulas or centipedes and raise them to adulthood since that’s too much work.

for isopods, they’re pretty much all captive bred unless you’re buying directly from the collectors in Southeast Asia or Europe where there are many species not yet cultured, and you probably are not doing that. or the seller is some kid who just picked up the isopods in their backyard haha

millipedes are tricky, since they aren’t often sold as babies (it’s easier to make people pay more money for a large, colorful adult versus little white baby spirals). in the US, Orthoporus ornatus & Narceus americanus are respectively entirely or mostly wild caught while the rest of the common species are either wild caught Floridian invasive species (that’s fine) or are captive bred (other exotics, some native species). not much information on the other orders of millipedes. check for lots of scars or injuries—wild millipedes are often injured if they haven’t had a chance to molt in captivity

mantises can be deceiving. I hear Idolomantis are often hatched from poached oothecae, so they aren’t really CB even though the mantis has never known wild life. most other exotic species are probably captive bred since the US is pretty strict about importing exotics, and there is little interest in the native species. I did see someone selling adult Tenodera in September though once, which is funny (invasive species so it’s fine by my logic, but funny because it’ll only live another month or two)

[clar-a-m]

Here's a bunch of sketches for an imodna zookeeper au i've had in mind for a while

WARNING please don't get mad at me about made up bug facts, those spiders have legs coming out of their butts for god's sake

If you're curious about more details about this au i'm putting them under the cut!

Most of the gang works at Mr. Eshteross’ zoo. Modern AU but does not take place on Earth, it’s Exandria but not really.

Magic is very limited and very rare. Most people don’t ever have any interaction with magic their entire lives and there’s not much knowledge about it in general, so there’s a lot of superstition about it.

All the different races exist as normal.

The real magic about this place is that there’s reliable and affordable public transport, and it’s a very walkable place, lots of people go around on bicycles and stuff. Using this AU to fulfill my dreams. (Imogen bikes to work!!)

The zoo is about to open a new exhibition about bugs, arachnids & maybe other creepy stuff. Laudna is hired to be in charge of this new branch of the zoo, and Imogen is assigned to help her put it all together and introduce her to the rest of the zoo. Their relationship develops and they KISS at some point (!!!)

They were both outcasts and very lonely because of their powers, and through each other begin to be more open and appreciate life a bit more.

Lots of fluff and good vibes!! Cute scenes with cute animals!! Not a whole lot of angst!! Maybe a bit sexy!! Why not!!

Imogen: has been working at the zoo for 2 years. Loves working with the animals and appreciates the fact that she doesn’t have to deal with too many people at a time.

Grew up working in her father’s farm, raising horses and other farm animals. Fell in love with it and decided to pursue it as a career.

Is an Animal Trainer, in charge of mostly mammals at the zoo. Keeps the enclosures clean, feeds the animals and trains them so it’s easier to do health checkups and such when needed. Also in charge of monitoring their health (brushing their teeth, weigh-ins, etc.)

Still has her powers, but more limited:

Lightning scars

Telekinesis

Telepathy (still has to block out people’s thoughts)

Dancing lights

Shocking grasp (can get as powerful as a stun gun)

*Still has bad dreams but nothing too special about it.

Is in charge of helping Laudna, the newcomer, develop the new bugs & other creepy things exhibition.  

Despite having been working at the zoo for a long time, is not very close with the rest of Bells Hells. They’re nice and she likes them but she’s a bit too hesitant to get close to people because of her powers (her backstory is about the same as canon). She begins to feel more comfortable getting closer to them after spending time with Laudna.

Only exception is Fearne. She’s very curious about Imogen and very insistent, so they end up being besties.

Laudna’s thoughts are like music and all that. Imogen finally meets someone who’s like her, and who’s even had a harder time than her but still is so full of joy. Imogen can’t help but want to know more about her, she wants to cherish the spark the she sees in Laudna.  

Sees Eshteross as a bit of a father figure. (maybe he helped her settle in after moving to Jrusar??)

Laudna: got hired at the zoo as the creepy things specialist, also just moved into the city.

Is used to moving around a lot, spent a lot of time living in the woods. Loved to pay close attention to what the little creatures where doing.

Formally graduated recently but has been taking notes in the field for a very long time (at least a decade?)

Still is undead and has some magic:

Looks half dead, has elongated limbs and fingers, black ichor, etc.

Fragile body but can easily pop back into place

Dark vision

Unsettling presence

Can siphon the energy of living things (could make a person pass out, or just make things colder)

Pâté is her actual pet rat, he has a condition that makes him look half dead too.

Very reluctant to make friends (has only really had imaginary ones until now). Expects everyone to just be scared of her and drive her away like they always do, but Imogen is a kindred spirit and helps her feel comfortable enough to open up.

As time moves on, gets close to Ashton and Fearne before getting close to the rest of BH?

Fearne: she and Mister are from the Feywild but no one really believes that, the Feywild is just folklore to most people. BH are not sure if they believe her or not because she is like that but she also likes to just make shit up on occasion.

Has an Only Fans

The zoo offered to take Mister in because no place would allow Fearne to raise a flaming monkey that could commit arson at any time, in exchange, Fearne can come to the zoo whenever she likes with no charge, and is allowed to bring a couple of people with her if she wants.

Comes to the zoo every day to spend time with Mister and loves hanging out with BH

Since she helps take care of Mister, she is allowed in some of the staff only spaces

There are rumors that she sometimes shapeshifts into an animal and sneaks into their enclosures, but that can’t be true right? One of the animal handlers is sure they saw an extra quokka one time but they were all cuddling together while sleeping so they must have been mistaken right?

Likes to chat with Imogen whenever she can find her. If Fearne sees Imogen working inside of one of the enclosures, she stares at her intently from the other side of it until Imogen makes a mental connection with her. They can talk mentally while Imogen works.

Imogen thinks it’s a bit awkward at first, but appreciates the company during boring tasks like cleaning empty enclosures. From the perspective of other visitors, it’s just this beautiful & weird lady watching one of the employees working alone in an empty enclosure for a long time.

Fearne tells Laudna about this at some point and Laudna occasionally watches Imogen work from a distance hoping she makes a mental connection with her as well (Laudna gets startled the first time Imogen talks into her mind like this because she wasn’t expecting she was really gonna do it. Imogen thinks she is very cute)

Gets invested in Imogen’s and Laudna’s relationship. Wingmans but tries not to push them too hard.

Sees the similarities between the two of them and hopes they can make each other less lonely.

Eshteross: owner of the zoo. Worked for the in-universe equivalent of the IBAMA (the Brazilian institute, look it up I guess) for years, fighting against illegal deforestation and animal trafficking. Opened the zoo with the inherited money of Mistress Prudaj, with the goal of educating people about wildlife, helping rescued animals and reintroducing them into the wild when possible.

Evelyn is his right-hand person and second in command at the zoo.  Worked with him during his last few years at the Nature Protection Institute Place. After he retired, Eshteross invited her to come make the zoo a reality.

Is very particular about the people he hires to work at the zoo. He has seen a lot of cruelty during his time at the Nature Protection Institute Place, so he only hires people he really trusts, people who he knows love the animals very deeply. 

Chetney: the zoo’s handy man. Is in charge of fixing, building and breaking things down. Makes lots of wooden things for the animals.

FCG: zoo’s veterinarian & rehab specialist.

Ashton & Orym: part of the zoo’s security team

anyway that's it. i'm not gonna write a fic about this or anything, i'm not a writer, but it was super fun to come up with all of these! If you like any of this feel free to do whatever with it i guess?

thanks for reading!

[mediocre-daydreams]

hello 🫶🏻🫶🏻 can i req a peter parker x stark!reader who r also bffs (with feelings 4 eachother) where both of them have this little game they like to play with eachother where they make up like insane conversations and the other has to follow along until they get tired ?? like “oh you look fine even though you got stabbed by an alien yesterday” “u dont look too shabby for someone who had to give birth to a baby” IDK like anything u want but they didnt know that their conversations were getting overheard by the other avengers and once the avengers come together and talk about it they’re like wait.. why the fuck does it sound like [] have two children at home and are secretly married IDK ANYTHING U WANT BUT AS CRAZY AS POSSIBLE i love crack fics

TYSM <33

— 🦜

i've been putting this off bc i love the idea and want it to be perfect so i stayed up late last night and in my delirious haze i came up with some dialogue prompts and i woke up this morning and found it in my notes so here's the beaut! i lowkey love it thank you 🦜 !!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

peter parker x stark! reader

summary: at first, you and peter were like "let's see who can uphold the most ridiculous conversations," but bro... you don't think the sexual tension is a joke anymore, and neither do the other avengers.

w/c: 3.1k

notes: crack crack crack, fluff, swearing, many sexual innuendos (and also just jokes about sex outright) and swears (c'mon it's me), mentions of abortions and roe v wade in a humorous context, murder, cannibalism, and foot fetishes in a humorous context, one "ur mom" joke, if it sounds crazy that's because it is crazy and i think u should just read it already

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you and peter’s friendship was anything but normal. well, you supposed, nothing could ever be normal for the two of us. peter’s an arachnid abomination and i’m the daughter of an egotistical billionaire who cosplays as a flying suit.

there were two ways in which your relationship was unusual. one: the practically nonexistent line between platonic and romantic, which everybody just always had to point out. the two of you had always been a bit touchy-feely—to be fair, mostly with each other, but were you really to blame? you were stuck in a tower full of traumatized assassins, spies, and people in metal suits; it wasn’t like there was any good cuddling options around. peter was a self-described “nerd and loser,” so girls weren’t exactly lining up to cuddle with him either. 

two: you had a game going on (if it could even be called that). peter had a hard time transitioning into an “official” member of the team, so you, being the coolest and closest to his age, tasked yourself with the responsibility of being his friend.

what started as making up nonsensical greetings or coming up with more and more obscure versions of “see ‘ya later, alligator” had spiraled into a competition of who could keep the most ridiculous conversations going.

--

you were sitting beside natasha at the kitchen bar, the two of you nursing copious amounts of black coffee and sporting dark eye bags. (so maybe karaoke with katy and shang-chi on a wednesday night wasn’t the greatest idea you’d ever had.)

peter took a double-take as he made his way towards the fridge, looking perfectly refreshed and wide awake.

“lookin’ good!” peter clicked his tongue at you in greeting, smirking at the scowl on your face. he knew you would’ve flipped him off had you not been holding your drink.

“thanks,” you drawled sarcastically. “i’ve been trying this new diy skincare routine, where you use curdled breastmilk as a face mask for 20 minutes. it’s really helping with my dark circles.”

natasha, the woman who was never caught off guard, was caught off guard.

peter hummed thoughtfully as he poured himself a glass of milk, which he was now losing his appetite for. “20 minutes seems pretty short, don’t ‘cha think? i keep my menstrual blood mask on for at least 35 minutes.”

you scoffed, taking a large swig of your coffee and wincing at its bitterness. “yeah, well you should probably do it for longer. i can see your premature wrinkles forming from here.”

peter slipped into the seat beside you and smiled in greeting to natasha, whose eyes were bleary and unfocused. peter turned to shove his face close to yours.

“hm, maybe you should try juice cleansing. your skin is looking awfully dull today, unlike mine, which is dewey and radiant.”

you rolled your eyes. “sure, dude. look at your birdnest for hair.” you tangled your fingers through his mess of curls and scratched his scalp. peter couldn’t hide the content groan that slipped from his mouth.

“if my skin is dull, your hair is practically straw. unlike mine, which is easy, breezy, beautiful: covergirl.” you made a big show of preening your bedhead.

natasha made gagging noises. “alright, you two are disgusting. in more ways than one. can you please stop, because i’m so hungover right now and i will not hesitate to aim my projectile vomit onto one of your faces.”

you and peter looked at each other with big grins. peter shot finger guns at natasha. “eyy, that’s the spirit!”

--

you and peter found it especially funny to start these sorts of conversations in front of steve and bucky. not only were the two perplexed by modern lingo, they were also the most gullible two people on the team, which made them easy targets.

bucky and steve exchanged testosterone-fuelled jabs at each other in the sparring ring as you tied your shoelaces as peter sprayed his face with water. the two of you listened to the grunts of exertion and the various gruff noises that filled the air to appease the two supersoldiers’ masculinities.

you sighed, stretching your sore arms. you and peter had been fooling around with the gym equipment for an hour now, waiting for bucky and steve’s match to finish (and it didn’t look like either of them planned on backing down anytime soon). with a final tug on your shoelaces, you looked up at peter curiously, who blushed at your wide, innocent eyes. or perhaps he was just red from the exercise.

“you smell really good,” you commented, bumping your shoulder against his. “what cologne do you use?”

peter paused to consider his response. “it’s… my au naturale body odor. it’s cruelty free and uh, vegan.”

“that’s so earth conscious of you!” you gushed, running a warm hand up and down peter’s arm. though he was sweaty, gross, and overheated, he shivered at your touch.

“y-yeah. i haven’t showered in three weeks. it really enhances the… musky base notes of the scent. it’s very masculine,” he nodded as if he knew what he was talking about.

“well, it’s very aromatic. i like it.” you patted peter’s bicep definitively, jumping to your feet as you bent in half to stretch out your limbs. peter stared at your ass toned calves, and thought that he should work on his legs as well.

“oh hey, it looks like bucky and steve are done!” you pointed at the two heaving supersoldiers, who had stopped fighting altogether so they could stare at you and peter.

bucky mouthed “what the fuck?” to steve. steve mouthed “language” back.

--

peter was busy scrawling illegible physics notes as he, tony, and bruce watched planet earth intently. bruce was busy jabbering away at the “incredible biological discoveries” that david attenborough was narrating, and tony was absentmindedly filing his nails while occasionally poking peter in the back with his toe to correct him on a mistake he’d written.

“hey dad. bruce.” you caught sight of peter’s unmistakable form, hunched over the glass coffee table with papers scattered haphazardly across the surface and a bulletpoint pen between his teeth tha you found very seductive endearing.

“hey peter!” you squeaked. “it’s- uh, fancy seeing you here!” you blurted, cheeks heating as peter turned to you with his cute stupid fucking glasses.

“hey,” he raised his eyebrows. “you come here often?” peter purred lowly.

you gulped, unsure as to why he was bothering you so much today. maybe your period had come early.

“no, actually. i was stopping by to meet my real estate agent here; i’m loving this property,” you played along, tucking yourself into peter’s side.

“ah, well, they’re not here at the moment. i think they got stopped at security—something about smuggling exotic animals. but i could be your tour guide, if you want? i’m very… thorough.” peter waggled his eyebrows.

david attenborough began discussing whale mating habits.

“oh, are you now?” you challenged, biting your lip smugly as you watched peter began to stutter.

“y-yes, i am. and, as a matter of fact,” peter turned to pull something from his pocket. he presented you with a microfiber cloth. “i’m such a gentleman, i’ll even clean you up after.”

peter’s head was suddenly slammed into the glass table. tony had rammed his foot (not just the toes) against peter’s curls.

“stop sexing up my daughter, spiderling. i’ll take out your suit’s built-in heater.”

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, mr. stark,” peter sputtered.

you giggled at his immediate change in attitude. leaning in, you murmured into his ear. “me, you, my bedroom, nine pm. i’d like that thorough tour.”

neither of you were sure if the offer was genuine.

--

sam had invited the team to a backyard party with his family, but not without warning everybody to watch their language around the kids. (it was an empty threat; everyone knew sam would be the first to slip up.)

you were “chatting” with a little kid; in other words, nodding along as they infodumped about cretaceous period with surprising expertise for a 5 year old.

you felt a poke in your side and screamed embarrassingly loudly. peter stared at you for a second, cheeks puffing and lips pinching together, before he burst into laughter. spit went flying all over your face.

“ew, you nasty! eugh,” you made a big deal of it. looking at the kid, you pointed at peter. “c’mon, let’s attack him! like a… brachiosaurus!”

the kid looked at you disdainfully. “the brachiosaurus was a herbivore, idiot. and it lived during the jurassic era, not the cretaceous period.”

your jaw dropped at the child’s betrayal. the mini-paleontologist toddled away, leaving you and peter dumbfounded.

“i sure missed a lot,” peter gaped.

“i- apparently, yeah.” you tucked your head into peter’s shoulder, fiddling with your empty plate. conversation buzzed steadily around you, but you and peter only cared about each other.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence, watching as sam teased his sister and as wanda was unsuccessfully trying to teach bucky how to use a pair of tongs. (bucky insisted that his vibranium hand could do the same job.)

“so, how many of those things have you eaten?” peter pointed his chin towards your empty plate.

“uh, approximately four.”

peter nodded approvingly. “four’s pretty good. you still hungry though? i could go for some food right now.”

you smiled evilly, untangling yourself from peter. “oh petie… i’m always hungry. i was skeptical at first, but damn, do these barbeque grilled fetuses hit. they’re gluten free, i think.” 

you stood up and yelled over the table to sam. “hey, are these things gluten free?” you pointed to where wanda and bucky were tussling over the grill.

sam looked at you incredulously. “no?” 

you turned back to peter. “well, you heard the man. at least they’re ethically sourced, though. better eat up quick, before roe v. wade gets overturned. fuck scotus.”

“yeah, fuck scotus. i’m all for womens’ sexual liberation. anyway, once you’re done, can you fuck me too?” peter deadpanned.

you choked. “oh, wow. you got me that time. i concede. i-”

--

“so, what’ja do for your art project?” you and peter were entwined on a common area armchair, you resting casually on peter’s lap with one hand pressed to his chest and peter’s arms pulling you even closer to his body.

“i made a collage of my feet pics.”

“huh.” you nuzzled your nose into the collar of peter’s shirt, taking a deep inhale of his cologne (his actual cologne, not his au naturale body odor). “for free?”

“what?” peter, much like everybody else in the room (who were all clearly listening but pretending not to.)

“i mean, you’re showing your feet pics for free? you’re spiderman, pete. you could charge so much for them. here, you can use my onlyfans account.” you began to pull out your phone.

“DAUGHTER?” tony roared from the couch diagonal to the two of you. whoops.

“…father?”

“can somebody tell me why my pure, uncorrupted, virtuous daughter is in the lap of a hormonal, horny teenage boy? god knows what the white sticky stuff actually is…” tony cursed under his breath. “and would somebody like to explain why the words onlyfans, peter parker, and feet pics are being used in the same sentence and coming out of my daughter’s mouth?” 

you cringed at all the innuendos (intentional and unintentional) that tony had just dropped in front of nearly the entire team.

bruce choked on the sandwich he was eagerly chowing into. natasha choked on air. wanda was biting back a mischievous smile and steve looked like he was about to faint.

bucky leaned over to sam and loudly whispered, “what’s an onlyfans?”

--

friday rolled around, which meant it was time for the avengers’ weekly family bonding event. this week, it was movie night. wanda and natasha were clapping enthusiastically as sam and bucky danced along to the jingle bell rock winter talent show performance, which meant you and peter could snuggle up to each other and converse freely without fear of being overheard.

peter’s head was in your lap, and you were mindlessly scratching and tugging at his curls as you smiled at your teammates’ antics. even from this odd, unflattering angle, peter couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. the television screen illuminated your face and made your eyes sparkle more than they usually did. and he had the perfect view of your lips—so soft, sensual, always containing such happiness, always begging to be kissed…

“hey bug?” you looked down at peter, smiling softly with the look you seemed to only reserve for him.

“hi,” peter whispered breathlessly, heart racing at the nickname. the corners of his eyes crinkled in the way that seemed to be only reserved for you.

“uh, this might be a- a little forward, but what are your weekend plans, ‘cause-”

“homicide.”

“excuse me?” you squinted at peter.

“you heard me. this weekend, i plan on committing homicide.”

you sniffed, a little disappointed in where the conversation had gone but willing to play along nevertheless.

“that’s it?”

“what do you mean, that’s it? what are you doing?”

you smirked deviously. “UR MOM!” you burst into a fit of giggles that peter found adorable, so he couldn’t stop himself from laughing with you.

“my mom- my mom’s dead!” he said through cackles.

the two of you looked at each other and only laughed harder, garnering the attention of the rest of the team. 

wanda opened her mouth to speak, but tony was too quick.

“alright, this has been going on for too long. peter, off of my daughter. daughter, off from… underneath the kid.” he cursed. “god, that sounds so wrong.”

“what?” you questioned, genuinely confused at what the issue was.

peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a warm pink crawling up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears.

“what? the problem is, you two are discussing matricide in front of a team of superheroes, not to mention practically dry-humping each other in a public space! not that it would be acceptable in a private space, but you get what i mean,” tony gritted.

“while we’re at it, can we talk about how your daughter has a stash of breast milk? and peter has menstrual blood? where do you even get the menstrual blood, peter?” natasha shook her head before gasping in horror. “it’s not- it’s not hers, is it?”

you waved your hands. “no, ew, gross! on the plus side, if it were hypothetically mine, that would mean i’m not pregnant.”

tony glared at you, finger in the air pointing shakily at your chest.

“okay, am i the only person who’s worried about the murder bit? because i’m pretty sure the kids were talking about cannibalizing dead fetuses at the party i threw last weekend—”

tony shrieked. “excuse me? you just said you weren’t pregnant, missy. where are you getting the fetuses from?”

“i said, hypothetically, but anyway-”

tony slapped himself in the face a few times. “god, this is why we need to stock up on condoms around here. do you guys even have sex ed in school? i don’t care if the two of you,” he waved a finger between you and peter, “are doing the deed—wait no, i do—but please tell me you’ve had the banana demonstration.”

“tony, i think the kids are quite a nice couple,” steve chimed in bravely. tony spun around and gave him a withering glare, but the supersoldier didn’t back down. “i said what i said. well, peter should definitely shower more, three weeks is criminally disgusting, but other than that, they’re good for each other.”

wanda nodded seriously. “i can hear both of them thinking about jumping each others’ bones every time i see them together. it’s kind of annoying, actually. so if you just let them fuck, my mind would greatly appreciate that.”

bruce sighed. “the sexual tension is so obvious that david attenborough doesn’t even need to narrate it for me to identify it. it’s like when those two whales were mating…”

tony dragged his hands down his face, overwhelmed. you and peter’s hands had found their way closer to each other, despite your bodies being a modest distance apart, and your pinkies intertwined reassuringly.

“care to explain?” tony waved his hands around. “the sexual tension bit? the cannibalism? the feet fetishes? just… anything?”

“it was a joke, i swear, mr. stark!” peter jabbered desperately. “it’s… a game we play. where we try and come up with the most ridiculous conversations and then just keep it going.”

you nodded furiously. “right! and i’m totally the winner. none of it was real. plus, friday would have alerted you if i ever made an onlyfans account.”

tony stroked his chin contemplatively. “so, the sexual tension bit? that was also a joke?”

peter opened his mouth, “ye-”

you opened your mouth, “no!”

the two of you gaped at each other.

“what we mean to say is, no, it’s not a joke! yes, there is… sexual tension.” you widened your eyes at peter pleadingly.

tony mumbled angrily to himself, pacing the room as the avengers watched the live-action reality tv unfold before them.

“is there really sexual tension between is?” peter hissed at you.

“uh, yeah. unless you were being serious about wanting to thoroughly fuck me and also fuck me after i went through the entire supreme court, then no, that would just be flat-out sexual.”

peter pursed his lips. “right, okay then. you’re right. there is sexual tension between us.”

you mock pouted. “so you’re saying you don’t want to thoroughly fuck me?”

peter turned bright red just as tony turned to the two of you, who had gotten much closer to each other in the time that he’d been worrying.

“gross! i’m getting secondhand cooties. whatever, you guys go have a play date or something. just… please be more classy than cady and aaron, dear god. the teenage foolery in this movie is actually-” tony shuddered, unable to express himself with words.

“i’m still interested in the property, y’know?” you whispered.

“well then, can i extend another real estate tour offer?”

“absolutely. and i will gladly take you up on that offer.”

you took peter’s hand, the two of you giggling madly as you raced and slipped down the hall towards your bedroom. you heard tony groaning and whining from the common room before he shouted, “keep it pg-13 in there!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

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Recoil one-shot sneak peeks!

I promise you guys I’m still writing these 😭😭 They’re just slow going lol.

The Tortoise and the Arachnid (spider man x rottmnt) - Small sneak  

“Whoa,” Peter says because that’s all he can say.  The tank is huge.  It takes up the entire space of the alley, and he’s sure most of the streets as well.  “There’s no way this is street legal.”

“It’s not,” Leo grins, “but we haven’t met a cop we can’t outrun!”

“Or a ticket Donnie can’t pay,” Mikey adds.  The smaller turtle pulls the ramp down and his jaw continues to drop as the interior opens up.  It’s amazing, like a communication center from those really old movies.  “I wonder if Mr. Stark will give me a car like this.”

“Mister Stark?” Leo scoffs, “the ego on this guy!  Stark didn’t give us this car.  Donnie built it.”

Meeting of Magic (Dr. Strange x rottmnt) - medium sneak next to post after TTatA ⬆️

The title Sorcerer Supreme is a heavy and new title to get used to.  He nearly suffocated under the weight at first.  There was so much work to do after the Sanctums fell, grueling magic draining work that last weeks.  Only after they rebuilt what Kacilius destroyed does Stephen feel like he can breathe again.  He remembers falling into bed that night, glad for the upcoming days of respite.  He just didn’t anticipate those days turning into months.  A lot of his life seemed to reset to a dizzying degree during this ‘vacation’.  The resources offered to a Sorcerer Supreme mean that he wants for nothing.  It’s almost like he’s back in the penthouse, rich beyond belief and still alone.

And incredibly bored.

The new job doesn’t come with as much work as he expected either.  He hasn’t been called to any other situations since Dormamu’s temporary defeat.  Sure, there was a ceremony after the cleanup.  A huge ceremony that cemented his position and introduced him to the new heads of the other Sanctums.  It was very over the top and the celebration lasted days, but Stephen expected…more.  More fights.  More magic.  Just…something other than sitting around this museum and waiting for things to happen. 

“Are you ready?”

He doesn’t look up from his book.  “Ready for what?”

Wong steps fully into the room with a sigh.  “We have a meeting in the Hidden City remember.”

Stephen looks up.  “Wait, you were serious?”  He does a double take at Wong's outfit and sits up.  The man’s dressed in his best robes.  Something Stephen hasn’t seen since his party.

“Yes,” Wong answers.  “So get ready.  We meet with the Council of Heads in an hour.”

“The Council of Heads,” Stephen asks.  He puts the book down.  “This is the yokai thing right?”

“We’ve been over this, Strange.”

“Yokai is the word for demons, right?” he says, “We aren’t meeting actual demons are we?”