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#I just want Gwen to have a healthy relationship

total-drama-brainrot · 2 months

Note

You know what I would love to see? An AU where Gwen had a crush on DJ instead of Duncan (partially because wingman Duncan is super funny to me, partially because I think they'd be cute). And in Paris instead of a tie breaker, Chris just separates Lindsay and DJ onto Team Chris and the Amazons respectively. We get cute Lyler moments, and Gwen can use her "Gothic Wisdom" into removing his animal curse. (It's basically just one of those fake witch rituals found online that tells you to meditate and burn sage)

I'm smitten with this idea. Completely and entirely enamoured with it.

Not only because I hate what Gwuncan became in S3 (they were incredible as friends, especially in S2, and their relationship felt so forced after Gwen spent two and a half seasons denying any romantic attraction to him) but because I, too, think DJ and Gwen would be very cute together. What's their ship name? DJwen? GweJ?

Having Gwen 'cure' his 'curse' through some off-brand witchy "Gothic Wisdom" nonsense that she doesn't even believe in is so funny and something DJ, in his post-Egypt state of paranoia, would completely fall for. It's a win-win for the both of them; DJ gets some peace of mind and a new friend in Gwen, and Gwen gets to spend more time with her crush!

Given her previous interest in Trent, a Good Guy (I don't want to say 'nice guys' because of the negative connotations connected to the term), having Gwen develop feelings for DJ- especially after he joins Team Amazon, but having her catch feelings pre-Paris would work too- is a lot more believable than having her suddenly be interested in Duncan, who is objectively Not Very Good. Plus, it means her and Courtney's friendship wouldn't be broken by something as silly as a 'love triangle'.

And I think, as DJ spends more time with Gwen, he'd see more of the person she is behind her loner gothic visage and develop a crush of his own. Because Gwen WAS a genuinely good person (a little rough around the edges and very prickly, sure, but she always meant well despite her dourness) before her character assassination.

They'd be good for each other. DJ would help breach past Gwen's thorny exterior with his kindness, and Gwen would help DJ return to his previous confidence through her quiet compassion and "Gothic Wisdom" support.

Also, wingman Duncan? Peak. Would he be playing wingman for both sides too, since he's pretty good friends with both DJ and Gwen?

(This idea also comes with the bonus of pre-packaged angst, in the form of DJ finding out that Gwen's 'cure' was made up the whole time, and the trust issues he'd develop as a consequence.)

#I just want Gwen to have a healthy relationship #and I want DJ to not be reduced to the mess he was in World Tour. Dude deserves better.#DJ and his scary guard dog (a goth girl)#total drama #td dj #td gwen #djwen #others' ideas #replies

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lqveharrington · 10 months

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Love-Hate | H.B.

summary: you’re love-hate relationship with Hobie Brown himself <3

pairing: Hobie Brown x fem!Spidey!reader

warnings: kinda suggestive !! making out, fluff if you squint, cursing, gwen and miles being in an awkward situation, lmk if i forgot any !!

wc: 1.5k+

a/n: it’s so hard to write for hobie’s accent oml !!

————

You had a love-hate relationship with Hobie.

Literally.

One second you’ll be annoyed at him for taking all the snacks you announced you wanted to have and the next, you’ll be making out in the break room, knocking things over. It was a never-ending cycle that confused everyone who witnessed an interaction. Even during missions Miguel sent out, the bickering wouldn’t end and in return, the make-outs wouldn’t end.

You never labeled the relationship as anything and Hobie hated labels, so it was a win-win situation. There would be some moments where you were just friendly with each other, but the arguments that would soon blow up in your faces will always end whatever chance others would deem as a healthy relationship.

Sometimes, your closest friends at HQ were nothing but added more reasons to your disputes with each other. The typical starter to a fight would be one stealing the others' belongings without them knowing. Yet, neither of you could ever give proof until an hour later when the item would appear back in its rightful place where it was last left.

Gwen being the cause of those fights.

Just like today, but worse.

You were pissed. And it wasn’t even Hobie’s fault for once. Still, he decided today would be the day to be the most aggravating person in the world.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, love?” He draped an arm around your shoulders, feigning false hurt when you pushed him off. “Nice to know you have some sort of emotion.”

“Hobie, go away.” You glare in his direction, finding a smirk displayed on his face. Not giving him the satisfaction of blowing up just yet, you answer his previous question. “Miguel is being a huge dick. I fought the stupid anomaly off and got blamed for not calling it in. What does he want me to do? Risk the entire universe, my universe to be more precise, just to call in a stupid anomaly? I would rather be stranded on a deserted island than risk that! I hate him so much, I have no idea why I joined this stupid society!”

You enter one of the more secluded areas you claimed as your own place, scanning for the walkman your dad gave you before he… Well, you all know the canon event by now.

“Where the fuck is it?” You let out a frustrated groan, opening the drawers and slamming them shut once you realized someone had taken it. “Did you take it?”

“What?”

“Did you take the walkman?” You stare up at him, glare still prominent. “I left it here.”

“Why would I take the walkman?” Hobie blatantly replied, hands in the pockets of his vest as he leaned against one of the walls, his guitar placed right beside him.

“Because you steal all of my shit, Hobie!” You rub your forehead, earning a raised brow from the male. “You know what? Fine, it’s fine. Everything is fine. I just need to relax. Then maybe you’ll give back the Walkman.”

“I don’t have the bloody Walkman.” He walked up to you, mere inches away. “And if I did, I would ‘ave gave it to ya’ as it seems you’re in a bit of a pissy mood.”

“Bite me.” You roll your eyes at his words, shifting closer to his frame. “You always take my things! No matter what time of day it is, where we are, it always goes missing! And you clearly don’t understand the value of this particular item!”

You looked up at him as you breathed heavily from the small outburst.

“I didn’t take anything.” Hobie met your eyes and leaned the smallest bit.

“Liar.” You reply with a voice laced with pure hate.

If anyone had walked in for the first few seconds, they would’ve thought it was a staring contest. But the sudden energy that emitted from the both of you completely took over, now hoping no one walked in.

Your hands pulled on his vest as he held your face with one hand and your waist with the other, his lips meeting you with such force and passion. As swiftly as it happened, you were able to sync up your movements, allowing Hobie to push you on the couch.

“I fucking hate you.” You separate from him, catching your breath.

“Feelings mutual, love.” He kissed your jaw and moved down to your neck, leaving small pecks and sucking on the more sensitive parts. You let out a small moan at the action, tugging on his vest and wanting to feel his lips back on your own.

“You’re so fucking needy.”

“Shut up.” You close the gap between you two, the coolness of his lip ring sending a miniature shiver down your spine.

He slotted one of his legs between both of yours, eliciting a whimper you tried to hold back. Something that Hobie didn’t fail to hear. He shifted his leg with the smallest amount of force causing you to gasp, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He swallowed all your noises, immediately feeling the need to get closer than you already were.

Hobie pulled away from you, the line of spit connecting the two of you splitting as you groaned from the physical detachment.

“Bee, what the fuck!” Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes still full of desire for the Brit in front of you.

“Y’know how much I hate your Spidey suit.” He squeezed your waist, watching you squirm underneath him. “It makes everything so impossible.”

You huff, “Don’t blame me for something you started.”

“I didn’t take your walkman.” He spoke in a lower tone, eyes darkening. “How many times will I have to say that for you to get that in your pretty likkle mind?”

“Fuck you.”

“You fucking wish.” Hobie went to attack your neck once more, this time gaining a much louder moan. Your own eyes widen at the noise.

He groaned into your neck, “Holy shit, love.”

— —

“Miles, you’ve discovered every inch of this place! What more do you need to discover?” Gwen walked backward, watching her friend’s eyes light up as he spotted a hallway he’s never been in. “What?”

“What’s over there?”

Gwen looked over to where he was pointing, immediate regret taking over. I knew I should’ve gone another way. She thought.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Let’s go to the break room and bother more cool Spider-men!”

Miles raised a brow at her sudden energy to leave the area. “What? Are you hiding something there?”

“Me? I won’t ever hide something in this stupid place.” She crossed her arms, standing her ground. “Let’s leave.”

“Nope.” He popped his p, already walking to the new area. “I wanna look to see what’s over there.”

“It’s boring! It is so boring over there.” Gwen followed, hoping that you weren’t there.

“If it’s boring, why do you want us to leave this place so bad?”

“Just… Because.” She stuck her tongue out. “Just come on, nothing good is over—“

“Fuck!”

The distant sound made Miles concerned, thinking someone was hurt in the area. He started to make his way down the hallway, Gwen trying to stop him before he saw something he wished he didn’t.

“Gwen. If something bad happens down there and we could’ve prevented it, it’ll be on you.” He poked her arm, web shooters ready just in case. “We’ll just check, okay?”

The blonde bit her lip and nodded. Instead of getting her web-shooters ready to shoot at whatever the cause is, she got ready to web his eyes closed and her own hands to cover hers.

Miles burst into the room flicking the lights on, screaming to scare off whatever it was.

You and Hobie, on the other hand, jumped at the noise, Hobie throwing a pillow at the culprit.

“MILES?!” You shout, hiding yourself under Hobie, silently cursing. “GWEN?!”

“OH, MY EYES!” Miles turns around, Gwen in return webbing them shut a little too late. “OW, MY EYES!”

“Oops, sorry, Miles.” She pats his shoulder, not making eye contact with the older pair. “Hey, Hobie… Hey—”

“As much as I love a group reunion, get the fuck out.” Hobie dropped his head on your shoulder, muttering out words that weren’t too nice. Gwen quickly turned around and left without struggle, Miles still struggling with the web stuck on his face. The blonde whispered an apology to the boy, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the room.

“Sorry— OW! Gwen!” Miles leaves the room with a yelp.

Hobie rolls his eyes at the pair, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “So?”

You stare back, “What?”

“You called me Bee.” He gave a smug look. “You like me.”

“I do not!”

“Whatever you say.”

You smack his arm, adjusting the way you lay on the couch. “You still took my walkman.”

“Gwendy literally left it on the counter over there,” Hobie smirks in your direction. “Either your spidey senses aren’t working or you love me.”

“Love? No. Absolutely not.”

“The look of messy everything on you is a style then, yeah?” He clicks his tongue, taking in your disheveled look.

“I hate you.”

“Hate you too.” He gave you one last kiss, which believe it or not, left a small smile on your lips.

————

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theprismyyy · 3 months

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can you make a headcannon of gwen having a introvert or super shy girlfriend?

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend

Pairing: Gwen Stacy x Fem! reader

Tw: Nothing, basically just cuteness (not revised)

(English is not my first language)

I feel like this could be better, but honestly I'm not at my best... so I guess that's it, I still hope you like it ❤️

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ I feel like Gwen is an ambivert type of person, so she can kind of be on both sides of the coin depending on the situation or her mood in day. Either way, this girl would be super understanding with you, always trying her best to make sure you are comfortable in her surroundings.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ If you were in a circle of people talking and she noticed that you had something to say, she would do her best to help you to integrate into the conversation, in addition to listening carefully to what you have to say.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- Whenever you are in very crowded places, she keeps her hand firmly attached to yours, arms intertwined, hand in your back pocket, around your shoulder, on your waist or belt strap, in general anything that helps her stay close and not end up losing you in the middle of so many people (she also wants you to have this guarantee that it is there and not going anywhere).

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- If you're the type who's too embarrassed to ask for directions on the street or order your own food, she wouldn't mind doing it for you. But she always tries to encourage you in a healthy way, obviously, to do it alone and be SUPER proud when you succeed, even if you stutter or fumble a little while speaking she still couldn't be most proud of your girl😭 she is your number one supporter.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- I imagine a scenario where you would have to present a project in class, in front of the whole class and you're like: Internal screams, anxiety, hyperventilating, wanting to faint, cry and vomit all at once. But Gwen is such a supportive and understanding girlfriend that she would never diminish the way you feel about it, and instead of saying it's silly and that you need to learn to deal, she tries her best to set aside at least one hour a day (either in person or via video calls), to help you practice your lines, comforting you and giving you words of support.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- Who when the dreaded presentation day finally arrived, would sit with you under the stairs about an hour early and just She would let you go over your lines if things were really bad for you, she would help you with breathing exercises and even hold your hair if you were the kind of person who needed to throw up. Regardless of anything, when the time finally came she would be right up front to hear everything you had to say, sussurrando palavras de conforto sempre que você gaguejasse, now...if by chance she doesn't have that particular class with you, make SURE she would be standing at the room window or opening the door to watch the presentation, with a big proud smile and a thumbs up as confirmation that you are doing well.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ No matter what grade the teacher gave you on that presentation paper, she would be there for you congratulate you and tell you that you were incredible simply for having the courage to go in front of everyone to speak, that this is how you start and that soon you would be doing it to the letter.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The beginning of the relationship would be so weirdly cute and funny, this girl is crazy and hungry for physical touch, but you don't know exactly how comfortable you are with that, you're both a shy mess and too embarrassed to ask each other.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend—------- But things start to flow and work naturally little by little, until you finally reach your first kiss. Gwen would probably be the one to initiate it... and you to walk away, not because you didn't like it but because it was unexpected, like, you were casually at her house at a sleepover, talking and being silly teenagers when suddenly she He leaned over and kissed you, more like a peck since you got scared and went to the other side of the room 😭😭 (you didn't talk about it for about three days).

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The first time the two of you actually kiss without running away from each other is at an even more random moment, you're in the bathroom, Gwen leaning against the sink counter as you fix your makeup in the mirror. As soon as you finish, you approach Gwen softly, both of you with a silly smile on your face when she compliments some of your makeup, it's just a super sweet interaction before you realize how close you are to each other, how you wouldn't need to lean in so much for touching your lips and how your breaths seem to mix perfectly.

Then they both go in for the kiss…and damn, that's awkward.

A small shy peck, followed by lots of silly giggles that barely allow you to put your lips together properly, hands shaking and not knowing where to rest, your teeth they probably clash a little...but at the same time as it's strange it's also so adorable. Soon you find a little rhythm that is still shy, but more comfortable for both of them, with Gwen holding her face with an almost crushing softness and her (very shaky) hands resting and delicately gripping her waist her. Anyway, a student ends up getting in the middle of this, disrupting this little moment and making the two of them separate like scared cats (you still laugh about that whenever you remember)

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy #spider ghost #spider gwen #across the spiderverse #spider verse #into the spider verse #wlw #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #my gf <3 #It took me so long to do this😭😭#gwen x y/n #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy x fem!reader

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blvckswxnji · 11 months

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Can’t Get Enough of The Wrong Thing

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

-xxxxx-

Pairings: [Hobie Brown x (f) Reader]

Genre: toxic (?) romance, exes that won’t leave each other alone, unhealthy relationship, (18+)

Warnings: some angst, strong language, heavy tension, smut.

Summary: You’re Hobie’s guilty pleasure and he’s secretly yours, yet you won’t admit it. He’ll make you, one way or another…

Word Count: 4.2k

————————————————————————

You won’t look. You can’t. He wants you to, you can feel it across the table. But you won’t. No more giving in, not this time. Hell no.

You made a truce with yourself to stop seeing him after the last time and you’ve been proudly holding up to that truce for a whopping three weeks. You couldn’t fumble it now.

When Pav decided on the group hanging out after a successful mission on capturing a tough anomaly, you knew he’d be here. It was honestly inevitable, but throughout the whole night you’ve maintained a good amount of distance from him. Although you were able to avoid his presence, you weren’t able to avoid his lingering gaze. You tried brushing it off and focusing your attention on the rest of the gang having fun and chilling out, but it was hard.

The thing was, you hadn’t told Hobie you were going to stop hooking up with him. You had kinda just ditched him after your last interaction. If you were being honest, you knew you couldn’t keep seeing him, you both broke up months ago and you couldn’t let yourself continue to mess with your ex any longer. No matter how much you loved it, it wasn’t healthy.

A live band had been playing tonight in the random joint you guys attended. There were many people, but it was enough where you could get around easily. Many of them swayed and bobbed their heads to the music and you decided this was the perfect distraction to occupy yourself from the man burning holes in your face.

Surprisingly, Hobie didn’t try anything after you began avoiding him. Little did you know he knew you’d pull some bullshit like this, so, he let you have your fun. Let you think you guys were over, when he knew he’d pull you right back into his greedy hands soon enough.

“Hey Gwen, dance with me?” You pleaded to the girl not wanting to be by yourself. Hobie lifted his head in amusement. Amused at the way you were trying to get away from him. Still, he didn’t utter a word to you. You were grateful.

She returns a panicked look, “Oh no, I don’t dance y/n!” You roll your eyes with a smile on your face to mask being on edge.

“Just come on, it’ll be fun!” With that, you got up and pulled her into the crowd of bodies moving along to the music. Gwen looks like a lost puppy, but your positive energy seems to loosen her up eventually and sooner or later, she gets the hang of it.

After a few songs, you started getting a bit tired so you both decided to meet back with the rest of the group at the table. You were glad to have relaxed and take your mind off of things, and for once throughout the night, you actually felt like you were having fun.

Once you two made it through the crowd and towards them, you noticed Hobie nowhere to be found. You decided on not asking though, it would be weird to. It’s not like you should care anyways, because… you shouldn’t.

“Where’s Hobie?” Gwen asks, looking around as we both sit down.

“Oh, he went to go dance with some pretty lady that offered like 10 minutes ago.” Peter answered casually. You froze. You curse yourself for doing so but you did. You also cursed yourself for looking around to see if you could spot him. Pathetic really on your end.

Gwen’s eyes widen slightly, “Oh wow, go Hobes!” she said, to no one quite in particular.

Did you also forget to mention no one in the group really knew of the relationship you and Hobie had? Because they didn’t, and right now you wish they did so they could just shut the fuck up. In all honesty it’s not like they were completely clueless, they knew you both liked flirting with each other but nothing really past that. Hobie wasn’t/isn’t one for labels or pda and neither are you.

Your eyes finally land on said man. Your heart annoyingly drops. He’s holding the girl by her waist loosely as she practically throws herself all over him. Luckily for you he doesn’t look super interested in her dancing but he doesn’t seem bothered by it, which bothered you.

You cursed his spidey senses because almost like clockwork, as soon as you caught the two, he made eye contact with you. You quickly avert your gaze but not quick enough as you could already feel the smirk etched on his face targeted to you.

Hobie was honestly enjoying this. His bastard self. He loved to see you crack under the pressure of his being, his gaze. He wanted to watch you crumble under the desperate urge for him and only him. Which is why he pulled the girl even closer, just to get further under your skin.

“You alright y/n?” Margo asks from beside you.

You turn your head to her, “Yeah of course I’m fine I jus-”

“Hey, I saw you back there on the dance floor with your friend, you’re really pretty, mind if I take you for a drink?” You’re cut off by an unfamiliar voice. You turn around to see a decent looking man standing in front of you. He’s pretty tall (not as tall as Hobie), but somewhat attractive all the same (although doesn’t beat Hobie’s beauty).

Y/n what the fuck!? Shut up!

“Oh um…” you look to the others to see if it’s a good idea, Pav giving you a smirk and looking as if to tell you to do it, while everyone else just looked to see what you were going to say. You take a final look at Hobie across the room who seemed to notice the interaction before you finally decided… fuck it!

“Sure why not.”

And then you were off. A faint smirk plastered on your lips as you were more than happy to piss Hobie off. You could practically feel his glare from a mile away. You’re walked up to the bar where you two sit down and the guy finally introduces his name.

“I’m Colin by the way, you?”

“Oh, I’m y/n, pleasure.” It wasn’t necessarily but he seemed alright, so why not at least try to be nice.

“Please to meet you y/n, what would the pretty lady like?” He asks as he scans the array of bottles lined up behind the bar and further looks for a nearby bartender.

“Um, a classic martini would be nice.” You shoot him a flat smile.

“Lovely.” He makes eye contact with one of the bartenders, “two classic martinis please, on the rocks!” The bartender nods and goes straight to work.

You would’ve like to say you didn’t find the conversation of getting to know Colin that followed soon after interesting, but for some odd reason you actually kind of liked the guy. He was quite funny and you don’t know if it’s because of the amount of martinis you’ve drunken since the first round, but you found yourself more relaxed and more willing to give him a shot. Hell, you might’ve become slightly more attracted to him. But you believe that’s due to growing intoxication of your mind and body. Either way, you found yourself laughing at his jokes and more keen of his flirting advances.

“Ya’ know, I think I kind of like you.” You blurt out without really thinking much of the words. Colin smirks.

“I’m quite fond of you myself y/n.” You bite your lip as you lean in a bit closer to him. The tipsiness in your veins making you a little bolder than usual.

The same case can be said for Colin as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Wanna get outta here and go to my place?” Followed by a light brush on your thigh. You don’t know what the hell kicked you into high gear to wake the fuck up but suddenly reality seemed to hit. Should you be doing this? You mean sure he’s a cool guy but was this really want you were ready for? Plus Hob— stop, enough with him y/n! Get a grip, no more of him.

Colin seemed to sense the way you stiffened up because he’s immediately filled with concern and regret. “Oh, fuck, I shouldn’t have I’m sor—”

“No no no no, it’s not you I’m— look I’m sorry, Colin, for everything really,” you stumble over your own words trying to let him know you weren’t offended with him, “I’m sorry you were really great but I need to go.” You hurry and shuffle from your seat at the bar towards the public restroom near the back of the joint.

You felt bad and embarrassed. You basically screwed that poor guy over what, because of some bastard you’re not even with anymore!? What the hell were you doing?

You made your way to the women’s restroom where you entered through the marked door and shimmied your way into an empty stall. You think you’re going insane. You stand in there for about a minute to catch your breath before your senses slowly come back to you. You hear the bathroom door open then shut and presume it’s the lady you saw when you first entered, leaving the sink.

You quickly open your stall door and make your way to the sinks directly across. You turn on the cold water and give your face a quick splash to sober yourself up. You lift your arm as a lazy attempt to dry your face, placing both your hands on the counter to steady yourself. You hear the distant thumping of the base of the music playing from outside the restroom. It’s quiet as you close your eyes and soak in the silence for a moment.

“Ya’ done now love?”

It was as if someone had screamed the highest pitch ever, directly into your ear. The speed your body had jolted, in the mere shock of the voice that emitted from the other side of the bathroom. Your head snapped so fast you thought you were about to break your neck. Your heart literally dropped.

“What the actual fuck Hobie?! You’re not supposed to be in here!” You shouted in a mix of shock and anger.

He smirked. “Now since when do you ever remember me following the damn rules?” He was leaning on the tiled wall, arms folded in one another with his head tilted to the side as he questioned you.

You didn’t answer, turning towards the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands.

Hobie huffs out laugh. “How much longer you gonna keep this cheap act up ay’? It’s getting bloody borin’ if you ask me.”

“What act?” Shrugging your shoulders, feigning ignorance.

“Playing clueless are we?”

“Letting random girls grind on your dick are we?” You shot back, looking him straight in the face. Instead of offense, satisfaction seemed to over take Hobie’s features.

Damn it.

He smiles in amusement. “Jealousy ain’t a bright look on you sweetheart. And correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t over at the bar about to get that lad’s dick wet before you choked?” He taunts.

This damn bastard.

“Fuck… you Hobie, like actually fuck off.” You spit as you make your way closer to his form. He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest and it pissed you off.

He abruptly pushes off the wall and sweeps his hands out of his pockets, moving forward which made you move back a bit. “Oh I know you’d love to do that again darlin’. I’d fuck me again too if I’m honest.” His smirk stretched even wider as you found your back coming in contact with the sinks behind you.

“You’re gross.” You counter, a futile attempt to hold your ground.

He moves even closer to you, so much so that only a few inches were left in between your bodies. “You weren’t sayin’ that when you were takin’ me from behind in the alleyway near HQ a few weeks ago, now were you?” His eyes grew a shade darker, daring you to deny. You hate how your heart rate began to speed up.

“And that’s the last time I’ll ever do anything with you again.” Hobie lets out a dark chuckle, his head falling low as if you just told the world’s most hilarious joke. You just stare. As his laughter dies down, he puts his hands on either side of you and on the edge of the counter. He lifts his head slowly and brings his face mere centimeters from yours, staring with dilated eyes. It feels as if you both are in that position for an eternity, before suddenly he lets go all together and pulls back.

He doesn’t say anything. You stay frozen in your spot as he turns away from you and walks away. You think he might actually leave it at that and exit the bathroom, but you become more confused when you see him entering the farthest stall away from the entrance.

The hell?

You take this as your chance to leave and quickly make your way towards the exit.

Almost to the door, suddenly, you feel your shirt get hit with something or stuck to something? You don’t have time to dwell on it as you feel your body jerk and get pulled all the way to the other end of the restroom. You let out a yelp at the unexpected movement and feel yourself about to fall backwards, but before you do, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. It doesn’t take you longer than a second to realize it was Hobie.

Before you can resettle your feet to the ground, you’re pulled once again, inside of the stall where Hobie locks the door in front of you. You feel his chest behind you and before you can melt into the all too familiar touch, you turn around and push him back with not much success.

“What the fuck are you doing, let me out!” You yell as you spin around to turn the stall lock. Although you were too slow, as before you could even touch the lock, sticky web was shot on the knob, covering it completely. So now, you were quite literally trapped. You hate the funny feeling in your stomach you get from the fact if you were completely honest, but your annoyance kind of overshadowed it.

Hobie presses his front to your back once again, resting his hand on your stomach. His other coming up to your mouth to silence you. He then leans forward, lips brushing your ear as he finally whispers something.

“Shhh, love.”

You shudder at the warmth of his breath. You’re slightly confused as to why he would tell you to hush, but you then hear the swing of the restroom door as it opens, and the click when it shuts. You hear two girls talking and from what you can make out, it seems they’re fixing themselves up in the mirror. You couldn’t really find the need to care about they’re conversation, not when you feel Hobie’s hand start to slip under your shirt.

You immediately grab a hold of his hand in a death grip, warning him to stop. You even try to mumble to get him to halt what he was trying to do, but he only tightened his grip on your mouth.

“Knock it off before I make this harder for you.” He warns.

Huh? Make what harder for you? What is he about to do?

As you dwell on your thoughts in pure confusion, Hobie’s hand creeps further up your shirt to finally settle his grip on your left breast.

Oh. OH….

No fucking way. He’s not serious with this right now is he? Your eyes widen in complete shock and panic.

You reach up to grab his hand but are immediately halted with a harsh squeeze to your chest. The action forcing a low grunt from your throat. You feel Hobie lean his face forward to whisper something again into your ear.

“You’re gonna stay quiet for me love, y’ got it?” He looks dead serious and you don’t know if being turned on by the look is something to be ashamed by, because damn did he look good. But at the same time, this was so wrong, on so many levels… shit. So, for the sake of your modesty, you give him a look of ‘what the hell, you’re insane!’

He ignores it, rendering the whole action as theatrics as he knew deep down, you wanted him. He cranes his head to start layering kisses to your neck. You shiver at the coldness of his lip ring and the way it drags on your skin. You try to resist the tingly feeling crawling through your veins at the touches, but in the end, it felt way too good. After met with some resistance, you eventually ended up falling into the feeling of his lips on you. You even lull your head to the side to give him better access.

He smirks and whispers, “There’s my girl.” As he begins to play with your other breast, lifting your shirt even higher so it rested atop both of them. You moan lightly.

You still hear the chitter chatter of the girls still present in the restroom, but they’re conversation is becoming all to foggy for you to even comprehend a word being uttered from their mouths.

Slowly, little by little, Hobie’s hand that gripped rigorously at your chest, made it’s way lower and lower. Eventually making it to the waistband of your jeans. He tugged at it, teasing you. Your breathing becoming heavier and slower. Unconsciously, you brought your hips backwards in anticipation. You hear a groan deep groan in your ear, followed by the swift pop of your button coming undone. His hand travels down to cup your heat, now fully engulfed in his hand through your underwear.

“Can’t believe you were keeping her from me for three whole weeks. You shouldn’t even be allowed to have my fingers after the crap you pulled.” You whine into his hand covering your mouth.

He snags the side of your panties with his index and middle finger, pulling the piece of fabric upward, giving you delicious pressure to your clit. Your head falls back and you try closing your thighs together but Hobie hooks a foot on your ankle, pulling it to the side to keep your legs apart.

“Ah ah ah, keep them open.” From the tone of his voice, he wasn’t asking you, he was commanding you. So with your strength, you swallowed your pride and did as he said.

His hand then teasingly travels to the waistband as of your underwear before finally arriving at the destination you want (need) him the most. His long fingers tease your folds. Collecting an embarrassingly large amount of arousal that had pooled there. You hear Hobie huff out a quick laugh.

“Ya’ know for someone so cryptic on wantin’ to be left alone, you sure are drenchin’ my fingers, huh’ love? She’s lit’rally throbbin’ f’me.” He teases smiling in satisfaction on how your body reacts to his touch. He removes the hand from your mouth to rest on your throat for a brief moment to hear an answer from you.

“Shut up.” You whisper in defeat and clouded lust. At this point you couldn’t really care for his annoying comments. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, all you wanted to feel was him in you. That’s why before he could even respond back, you took his hand that was between your legs and guided his fingers to rub your clit. You needed to be worked up.

Seems he got the message because he soon he was rubbing fast and tight circles on your nub. It was so hard to keep quiet when he was practically working magic between your thighs. You were now glad he picked the farthest stall from the entrance.

“Fuck Hobie, I need your fingers inside me.”

“No problem darlin’.” At that you felt the first finger protrude at your entrance. Your mouth hangs open at the feeling.

Fuck, you really almost forgot how good his digits felt. These damn girls need to get out of here before they hear something they don’t want to.

“Shit your so tight. Thought you’d be fuckin’ some other losers while you were off avoiding me.”

You scoff. “Thought about it, I just… decided against it.” He added another finger. Your head falls back on his shoulder again, as he soon curls his fingers to get to that delicious spongy spot inside you. He quickly covers your mouth as you let out a loud, yet muffled moan against his palm. You grip his wrist tightly as a form of leverage.

“Good, no one could ever make you feel as good as me.” There was a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Plus, if you let another man touch you, there would have been hell to pay. For the both of you.” Your stomach flipped at the comment. His fingers began to speed up and your other hand finds purchase on his forearm of the hand covering your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he curls his fingers effortlessly into your cunt, at a pace that makes your knees buckle.

Shit, is this what heaven feels like?

If the girls didn’t hear your muffled moans by now, they sure as hell heard the squelching of your pussy echo throughout the restroom.

The pleasure becoming so much, that you ended up having to hold on to the stall door. Your knuckles turning white at the amount of ecstasy you were experiencing. Your ass grinding onto Hobie’s clothed member, sitting half hard in the confines of his jeans.

Hobie ended up moaning loudly in your ear at the friction you had caused. The chattering of the girls in the bathroom had halted, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck and neither did he anymore. You soon heard an awkward shuffle of footsteps rush out the door, rendering you and Hobie finally alone at last.

Finally.

Hobie breaks his whisper. “You’re mine y/n. Ya’ understand?” His hand coming to sit at your throat, squeezing around it. “All fuckin’ mine!”

“Yes, H-hobie, fuck… I’m sorry alright!” It felt so good to yell. Moan in pure pleasure. His fingers were working you so good and the band in your abdomen was only becoming tighter.

“You’re damn right you’re sorry.” He breathes heavily. His eyes scanning the way your body submitted to him. He smirked hard. It was a pretty sight.

“I think I’m getting close!” You panted out, still using his arms as leverage. In response Hobie let go of your throat and positioned his hand back to your breasts as he knew they were sensitive by now.

“Let go for me angel.” He whispers breathily. Fondling your nipples and fingering you with pure desire you thought you would pass out. The feeling so overwhelming, it brought you to the edge.

You practically screamed as the exploding sensation bursts across the nerves of your body.

“That’s a good girl, ride it out.” You hear his voice, it’s almost soothing as you embrace your high.

Fuck did you miss him.

As you came down from your high, your senses slowly but surely started to clear up. You flinched at the feeling of Hobie pulling his soaked fingers from your heat. You sluggishly turn around to properly face him and you’re met with him looking straight at you. You see him bring his fingers up to his mouth before sticking his digits inside of it, sucking your juices as if it was his last meal. All the while maintaining eye contact. It made you fluster up a bit.

“Mmm, absolutely divine.” He closed his eyes before opening them back up slowly. “You’re perfect.”

“Alright, alright it’s embarrassing.” You look away in slight annoyance.

“What? Can’t take a compliment?” He tilts his head to the side, leaning over your frame.

“Oh whatever.” You rolls your eyes although you’re not necessarily upset at his statement.

You lean your back on the stall door as Hobie moves closer to your body. A hand grabbing your hip.

His face leans in closer until your lips are centimeters away from colliding. Your hands take a hold around his neck as you bite your lip.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.” You say it, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to your own words. The man in front of you, with an allure so captivating, the only thing you want is to be suffocated by it.

He doesn’t answer you, instead he just chuckles, before he smashes his lips to yours. His hand grabs the back of your hair as he pulls you deeper into him. Tongues messily colliding, entangled in one another. You can’t help but moan. He’s so intoxicating…

and you can’t get enough.

————————————————————————

Part 2???? 🥱 Also y’all this my first ever completed fiction!! (what?? omg) Anyways hope y’all enjoyed, I may make a part 2 but I need to figure that out lmao. I’m thinking of maybe taking requests but I’ll need to think that through too lmfao… (I love me some Hobie <33)

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader smut #atsv #atsv x reader #astv smut #fanfiction #atsv imagines

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lildoodlenoodle · 10 months

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One of the biggest problems and red flags about the whole spider society was having kids be workers for them.

Now I’m not saying the spider society shouldn’t have contacted the younger spiders or even work with them! But the spider society should function as more of a support group and emergency backup type situation for the younger spiders.

There was no reason for Margo, someone who is implied to be like Miles’s age, someone who can’t even drive, to be running an integral part of the society and how they are keeping the multiverse intact. She not only ran it, but if it malfunctioned it was clearly her job and responsibility to fix. When the machine ‘breaks’ and functions while, as far as she’s aware, no one’s in it she’s panicking, even though there would be no real consequences if she just let it run. There was no reason for Gwen, a 16 yr old, to be running around the multiverse alone going on high stakes solo missions(and that’s not even getting into the whole homeless thing). We don’t know yet what Peni’s role is but we have to assume it’s similar in nature and responsibility. That is insane.

Pav is the only one who seems to have a healthy relationship with the society, because he’s not really in it! He doesn’t know the indoctrination canon events yet, we don’t see him going off on solo missions, he gets backup when he needs it and that seems to be it.

For the kids that do know the canon events theory(Margo, Peni, Gwen) I cannot even imagine what must be going through their heads. Who else from their worlds has to die. For Peni, is her last living relative, Uncle Ben, the next person for her to lose? If Gwen returns to her world how long will it take for her dad to die? What other traumatic events have Miguel’s theory dictated will happen to them next? What horrors do they know will happen to them and their loved ones that they aren’t allowed to prevent? Is Gwen destined to die young because she’s the only Gwen we see Alive? And Gwen and Hobie, Pav’s friends, do they know that Gayatri and her dad are both destined to die? Like the mental gymnastics these kids have to go through and the mental torment that goes with it.

And then on top of it, to threaten said teenagers, who you have working for you, with being kicked out and being isolated from the people that are like and understand them is really fucked up. Especially if the threatening is because they are acting like teenagers and not soldiers. If Gwen is sent home, not only is her life put in danger but so is her father’s and they all know it. That is some culty level gaslighting and even grooming. Margo and Peni both are implied to not have good home lives either. The more you think about it the worse it gets honestly, because what goes along with this is we never see any of the adult spiders say anything about this.

Miguel and Jess both saw Gwen’s father, a grown man, try to arrest his daughter with a gun pointed at her. They save her, Jess takes her under wing(and whether they meant to or not) effectively become her guardians. They monitor her with what could essentially be a baby monitor/tracking device. They can control where she can and cannot go. And while understandable to not give a teen access to the entire multiverse they were very much giving her the adult responsibilities of protecting it.

When she does screw up, because she is a child who wants to see her friend, Jessica very flippantly references Miguel sending her home, making me think this is not the first time they’ve had that conversation, which is so worrying. And then they eventually do. They knew exactly what situation they were sending her into and not only did the entire society watch Miguel do it with little protest but didn’t even mention it afterwards. Even if Gwen was a threat they had other options, rather than sending her home, where she could still be safe.

There’s also a lot to say about how Jessica, Peter B., and Miguel handled Miles that speaks more to this pattern of behavior but that’s another post.

In the comics the ‘Spider Society’ got away with this sort of stuff, even having an actual infant just chilling with the group, because the spiders were being hunted. They couldn’t go home or leave the safe space dimension because it wasn’t safe. In the movie that is very much not the case. WHY WERE TEENAGERS WORKING FOR THE SOCIETY!?

#Peter b. Jessica and Miguel that is very weird of you #I feel like I could talk about Gwen’s situation specifically for a long ass time(cause we know the most about her)bc it rlly is nuts #like as an adult WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT #literally not just having her work for you but then constantly THREATEN her with essentially homelessness and a very unsafe situation is #CRAZYYYYY #like it’s even implied Margo doesn’t have a great home life either #YOU ARE TAKING ADVANTAGE OF KIDS #it’s literally grooming and it makes me so mad that not enough people recognize it for what it is #Jessica specifically I wanna know more about cause she’s the only where my mind could b changed cause we simply don’t know enough about her #THE OSHA AND CHILD LABOR LAWS MIGUEL IS VIOLATING #Gwen Stacy #Margo kess #miguel ohara #Peter b. Parker #pavitr prabhakar #Hobie brown #miles morales #ghost spider #spider byte #Spider-Man 99 #Jessica drew #spiderwoman #spider society #ATSV #across the spiderverse #spiderman india #tw grooming #tw gun

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 months

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Keep Thinking About Gale x Single Mom!Tav

A/N: Shout-out to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble to them about it. I just need to get all this stuff rattling around in my brain out.

I know, I know, Gale repeatedly says he's not father material, but have you considered that I want him to be a dad anyway and it's cute

So in my brain this single mom is named Gwen (Guinevere); a half-elf, wild magic sorceress

She came from a fairly well to do family, married a handsome and acceptably rich merchant and soon had a child on the way

Problems came when she gave birth to a healthy baby girl, who also happened to be a teifling

Seen as a bad omen, both her family and husband wanted her to give up the child, she refused causing her husband to leave her and her family to reject her

She didn't let that stop her though and soon she found a new home for her and Clara

Over the next eight years she worked hard to build a life for herself and make sure Clara never doubted for a moment she was loved

Gwen knew the world would be hard on her girl, so she made a point to build up her confidence and teach her it's never wrong to fight back when people are treating you unfairly; you can't take that shit lying down

Blunt and a bit intense, Gwen has seen and done plenty of shit and thought she finally had a handle on her life; and then she got kidnapped by illithids

Still haven't played the game, so I can't give a play by play of every interaction, but I do know early game she would be a bit distracted

Obviously her first goal is to figure out if her daughter is okay so it frankly is the only thing on her mind until she gets her hand on a sending scroll or something like it

Only after does she confirm that Clara is safe and with people she trusts can she focus on the task at hand

Takes a liking to Gale basically from the word go; he's respectful, he know hows to cook, he keeps making comments about his tongue, there is only so much a woman can handle

Gods know it has been a while since she's gotten laid

He starts rambling about magic and she can't not fuck him

Gale is hesitant at first because first the orb, second Gwen has made no secret she had a child and Gale doesn't see himself as father material, and three because he does really, really like her and doesn't want to make promises he can't keep

I'd say they're able to meet Clara before they head come to Baldur's Gate so Gale and the rest can meet her earlier; and to give Gwen some peace of mind

Clara is a very curious and headstrong, both of which Gale can appreciate; he can see why Gwen was so determined to get back to her, which only makes him admire her more

Also, quick aside about the rest of the companions; Wyll and Karlach would be ready to baby sit at any given moment, Lae'zel admires the child's fighting spirit and absolutely gifted her a sword, Shadowheart enjoys her more mischievous tendencies, and Astarion is classic wine aunt who hates all kids except Clara (he's been helping her stage of coup of the swing set)

Eventually feelings are confessed between Gale and Gwen leading to a proper relationship (and Gwen actually getting laid)

Gwen is absolutely not having it with him trying to blow himself up or becoming a god

Mystra: You must destroy yourself and the orb. Gale: Alright, let me ask Gwen. Mystra: No, that's not--. Gale: She said no.

Once everything is said and done, I'm going back and forth on if they would settle in Waterdeep

Clara has friends and it would be hard to ask her to leave, but I think Gale could compromise and get a position at a different magical university closer by

Either way, Gale settles into the domestic life rather nicely and dives head first into being the best father to Clara he can be

He absolutely devours every parenting book he can get his hands on, only to throw it all out the window once he's actually in it; Gwen did warn him, but old habits and all that

Probably waits a little longer to actually get married to see how they all function as a family together first; plus he wants to properly ask Clara if she's okay with him marrying her mother

I've got other random thoughts, but that about covers it for now, if you want to know more, feel free to drop an ask! I'm up for anything.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale x gwen #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale headcanons #single mom!tav

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axel-ambassador · 3 months

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Thinking about Ripaxel again

I think one of the biggest reasons I've come to love it as much as I do is because it does almost everything right where the first gen characters went wrong.

As I've said before, I've been burned before by this show and the way it handles romance. It is not fun to be a Gwen and Courtney fan, and it's especially torturous to have Gwourtney as an OTP considering everything that canon offers.

I also loved Gwent during island, despite the inconsistent writing. Trent's derailment and the messy breakup that followed painting Gwen as the only one in the wrong absolutely destroyed me.

I became obsessed with Gwen's friendship with Courtney. It was so nice to see these two girls whose arcs were normally contextualized by their relationships to breathe and be themselves, without any of the romance drama.

But then the love triangle happened and we all know how I feel about that.

But then All Stars gave me hope. Sure, my fav was incredibly derailed at this point, but it was worth it for the genuine relationship she formed with Courtney.

And then the show spit in my face. Romance and relationships would always suffer just because the plot simply demanded it.

Ripaxel though...doesn't have any of those issues.

Never at one point are they trying to change each other that negatively affects them. Yes, Ripper does change, but he makes the conscious choice to change because he wants to be better. He wants to fix his misogynist tendencies and superiority complex because he knows Axel won't take any of that shit.

Axel on the other hand, sees this. She's willing to give him a chance, and yet she never changed herself besides trying to be more friendly, which she did for herself.

And once they're together, that's it. They are their authentic, better selves. They bring out the best in each other. Axel is the driving force for Ripper to drop his faux persona and be himself. Ripper brings out Axel's sweeter, more compassionate side.

They actively try to better themselves while sticking to who they are because they love each other. And they embrace each and every part of each other.

It's so personally vindicating to see my favorite character flourish in a relationship after the absolute disaster that was Gwen and Courtney's love lives.

No toxicity, no derailment, no drama, just 2 people in a loving, healthy relationship. It's so refreshing to see.

#total drama #total drama 2023 #tdi 2023 #total drama island 2023 #td axel #total drama axel #td ripper #total drama ripper #ripaxel #axeripper #td gwen #td courtney

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void-inked-pen · 1 year

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More Ben 10: mitosis doodles! specifically ben and kevin arguing about anime lol

ben and kevin's relationship in this story is veeeeery different in this au btw. you'll see more of it later because i wanna make comics explaining the story and all the characters relationships in this idea.

Disclaimer for the future: end goal is ben and kevin. no gwen and kevin happens. I never saw their relationship ever having chemistry to begin with and I see more of a fun dynamic between this version of ben who has already seen him at his worse gradually warm up to him and progressing towards a more healthy future. I also just in general dont like gwen's relationship with kevin being romantic, stop making the only girl character date one of the guy characters. let her just be friends with them pls im begging.

so while they start off as 10 (and 11 respectively) in the beginning, keep in mind they will age up. end goal is OLDER <---- Ben and kevin as in at least teens going on adults. i want a gradual relationship with them thank you very much!

but ye, not a fan of that ship in this au, thats fine it wont be the focus for a long while but I WILL be making building blocks towards it. you can see them as platonic if you'd like too that's fine but gwen and kevin will never happen in this version and that's FINAL.

now... have this bonus kevin in my clothes, thanks for reading~

#ben 10 #ben 10 mitosis #ben 10 au #digitalart #sketch #doodle #penapalooza #au

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wordsarelife · 2 months

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—tolerate it

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

summary: maybe you and peter had done a good job at ignoring your problems, or maybe there was nothing worth saving anymore

warnings: toxic!peter, basically a very toxic relationship, underage drinking, a bit too much drinking.. let me know if i missed something

note: the ending is a bit in the air, you can make out of it what you want

"hey! how are you?" gwen hugged you smiling and sat down on the sofa beside you.

"i'm good" you smiled "where's harry?" you asked, finding it weird that he was nowhere in sight.

"oh he's off playing beer-pong with his friends" gwen explained "i saw you across the room and thought i'd join you" she paused, unsure if she should say what she was thinking, but eventually did "you looked lonely"

you nodded your head and gwen swore she saw you blink away a tear. "thanks for sitting by me" you smiled and then looked around the room quickly "i don't know where he is, he told me to wait here. it's been an hour since i've last seen him"

"oh sweetheart" you had almost bursted into tears at her caring tone "he just left you here?"

you shrugged, it's not like that was something new to you. peter would often bring you with him to these frat parties, just to disappear into thin air the moment you entered a place.

"i don't mind" you lied and gwen looked at you unbelievingly. "it's great that you are here, finally someone i know" you meant to change the topic, but gwen furrowed her brows at that.

"he left you alone and you don't even know anyone?" she asked unbelievingly "does he know how dangerous these parties can get?"

the question was rhetoric. of course peter knew that.

"i don't drink" you said, as if that would make it any better.

"doesn't matter" gwen shook her head "everyone else does" she took a calming breath "why would you even be here when you just sit on your own?"

"because peter likes to take me with him"

"and he isn't anywhere to be found" gwen looked around the room "typical"

"he doesn't always do that"

"he did it back in highschool too" gwen reminded you "i thought he had stopped with that, i thought he had changed, was the only explanation for me how you guys were still together"

"i really don't mind"

"well you should" she looked at you worriedly "why don't you just break up with that dick, y/n?"

"i love him" you said as if that would excuse everything. "i have loved him for the past five years"

"and he treats you like that?"

you shrugged. "i can't help it" you almost said bitterly "sometimes i hate him, especially when he does things like that, but i still love him"

"do you think that is healthy?" gwen asked genuinely.

you shook your head and tears brimmed at your eyes. "no" you looked into her eyes and she could've almost started crying too. "love shouldn't be like this, right? loving someone should be easy" you turned your head to look at harry and gwen followed the direction your eyes where going "it looks easy for you two"

gwen had to be honest "it's not always easy" she admitted.

"i know" you said "but i don't think it should make me feel how i feel"

"how do you feel?"

"hurt" you simply said "i feel hurt any time i look at him"

gwen was ready to repeat her earlier advice, simply convincing you to finally break up with peter parker, but to her surprise you weren't finished.

you breathed a shaky breath. "and i feel guilty" you almost whispered "there was a time where it was easy to love him, as easy as breathing and doing it made me happy. it felt like back then we were loving each other the right way and now-" you paused and sighed "i don't think we have been loving each other the right way for a long time. but somehow we still belong together, even if that doesn't make sense in the slightest"

"i don't know if it does" gwen said honestly "but that doesn't make it wrong" she thought about what to tell you, and her mind slipped by the question if a frat party was the right place for a conversation like that, but she continued to speak anyway. "did you ever tell peter that?"

"what?" you looked up to her in surprise.

"maybe it would help both of you to talk about it" gwen suggested "he might be feeling the same way" she shrugged. "but just so you know, his behaviour is still absolutely unacceptable and if he doesn't change it up i'll have harry take care of him"

"thank you" you smiled, hugging her.

when you sat back down, there was a loud voice calling your name and soon enough peter entered your field of vision. he was being held up by harry.

"he's wasted" harry explained, which wouldn't have been necessary. you had known it immediately when you had first heard him call for you.

"y/n" peter slurred, trying to free himself out of harry's hold "let's make out"

you sighed and ignored him, instead turning your head at harry and gwen. "could you maybe help me to get him home?" you asked "i would do it alone, but it's late and i don't—“

"of course" gwen interrupted your rambling. harry nodded as well.

"thank you" you said, relieved.

gwen and harry helped you navigate through the crowded party, guiding peter, who was clearly in no state to walk on his own. as you exited the chaos of the frat house, the cool night air hit you, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

"he's really out of it," harry remarked, glancing at peter struggling to keep his balance.

"yeah" you nodded, a tinge of embarrassment in your voice. "i appreciate your help. i didn't want to deal with this alone."

gwen gave you a sympathetic look "you shouldn't have to deal with this at all," she said, genuine concern etched on her face.

as you reached peter’s place, you collectively managed to get him inside and settled on the couch. harry, ever the protective friend, shot peter a disapproving look.

"i’ll take care of him," you assured them, grateful for their assistance.

harry hesitated, "are you sure you're okay?"

you nodded, "yeah, i’ll manage. thanks again for helping."

after gwen and harry left, you found yourself alone with peter, who was now slumped on the couch, still lost in the haze of alcohol. you sighed, both annoyed and exhausted by the evening's events.

you unfolded one of the blankets, burying peter under it. then you made sure he was laying on the side and set a few alarms to check on him throughout the night. you left the room, slipping into the bed in the other room.

the night was not as busy as you had predicted it to be. peter did not wake up and was fine and breathing as normal any time you checked on him, probably thanks to his faster metabolism, getting rid of the alcohol as fast as it had registered in his body.

it was only nine a.m. when you silently walked out of the bedroom on your way to the toilet. peter was still asleep, peacefully laying on the couch. your eyes softened when they fell on him. he looked so tired, but still much more like him than yesterday.

he was just sitting up when you came back from the bathroom. "hey" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

"hi"

you contemplated gwen's words from yesterday, the sincerity in her eyes when she spoke about love not always being easy. the heaviness in your chest returned as you looked at peter, wondering if it was time to address the issues that had been piling up between you.

"peter," you said, your voice firm but weary. "i think we need to talk."

he blinked at you, not quite awake yet. "talk? right now?"

"yes, peter, right now" you took a deep breath. "I can't keep feeling like this. like i'm alone in our relationship like i'm waiting for you all the time."

his brow furrowed in confusion, but you pressed on, "i love you, but things can't continue like this. we need to figure out if we're still right for each other."

peter's eyes widened. "what are you saying?"

"i'm saying we need to either fix this or admit that maybe it's time to move on," you replied, your voice steady despite the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

the room fell silent as peter processed your words. eventually, he let out a heavy sigh, "i didn't realize it was this bad."

tears welled up in your eyes, "it's been bad for a while now, peter. we can't keep pretending like everything is fine."

he nodded slowly, a mixture of regret and realization crossing his features. "i want to make us work, but i don't want you to feel like that" he paused, just for a second, a few tears slipping over his cheeks "i didn't know.."

"i should've told you"

"i should've noticed" he looked up at you, regret evident on his features.

"yeah" you admitted "maybe you should've" you softly put a hand on his shoulder, he grabbed it, comfortingly squeezing it.

"i've been acting like a dick, maybe because i knew deep down that something was wrong. i thought shutting you out would shut the problem out too" he admitted and you nodded, somewhat understanding what he was talking about.

"i've been holding on to something too" you said softly "but ignorance won't help us anymore"

"i'm sorry" he said, adverting his eyes.

"i know, peter" you nodded "me too"

#peterparker #peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #spidermanimagine #tasm spiderman #spiderman #andrew garfield spiderman #tasm andrew garfield #andrew garfield #x reader #marvel headcanons #marvel masterlist #marvel #tolerate it #taylor swift #evermore

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sciderman · 7 months

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I think, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, that the funniest part about Johnny juuuust missing on scoring Peter is that Johnny would’ve very well been Pete’s healthiest relationship right after Gwen. Don’t get me wrong, I love spideypool, but their relationship has been one of the biggest trainwrecks I’ve ever witnessed in all six+ years I’ve been following the blog, though to their credit they’re getting better but it’s at a snails pace it feels like so, y’know.

In some alternate universe Johnny got to Pete before Wade did and those two are out there living their best life and Wade is cussing up a storm for living in the universe where he didn’t score Pete (and in another another universe, Johnny’s dating Pete and Pete is dating Wade and it’s still a bit of a trainwreck but it’s not as bad as it could’ve been)

gosh... you know, it's a fun little thought experiment, actually. if johnny and peter would've panned out just fine in 9319, if johnny was the shoulder peter wound up crying on after gwen.

i really think if it were to happen, they'd probably be in friends-with-benefits territory for like, a while. johnny and peter they're – they're really touchy-feely. and i totally think that, after gwen, one of those moments where johnny's physically reassuring peter could easily escalate into something more. but neither of them push it into romantic territory quite yet because – peter needs time, i guess. but the fact that johnny is so there, and so understanding, and so safe and comforting – and not at all scary and hostile like harry turned out to be for him – it means that it happens again. and again.

and the thing with johnny is that - even when peter has his inevitable breakdowns where he says the wrong thing, or pushes johnny away inadvertently because of his own insecurities - johnny doesn't bail. he pushes his way in. he'll call peter out, as a friend. "hey. you're acting like a sack of shit right now and i hate to see it. do better."

and it might take peter months about it, and johnny's not pushing, but eventually - eventually it locks in peter's head that maybe him and johnny could make it. and that this is something good. something good that he should grab onto.

i was trying to really think about ways this could fall apart - i think peter would be - different, if he was dating johnny. i think he'd stay very masc-aligned. very macho. i think he wouldn't transform quite as much as he did with wade. and i think he'd lean into spider-man more. he'd lean into spider-man in a healthy sort of a way, because there's kind of - less demand for him as peter. johnny's a hero too, and he's never giving that up. it's the family business. whereas with wade - there's so much more pressure on peter to change in order to make compromises with wade and what wade wants. changes that peter won't actually really have to make or address, if he was with johnny. so - i think peter would greatly stay as he was - very masc, very traditional. it works just fine for johnny - but i think peter would become healthier, by virtue of having a lot of unconditional love in his life. so - yeah. it all works out. happily ever after, i think.

but you won't get peter in cute dresses, so we all lose.

#sci speaks #ask-spiderpool #hmm... peter in a healthy relationship where he is happy . or peter. spiralling in glitter and existential crisis. hmm...

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milessluvr · 10 months

Text

— YOU’RE HURT.

— summary , Gwen crush got hurt badly while fixing her up her crush beauty attracts gwen even more.

— note , requested! I’m not sure if you wanted headcanons or a lil story so I kinda did both really short hope you enjoy!

— warnings, wlw fem reader wit she her pronouns angst—fluff had a lil help on this

Gwen sat there looking at y/n her beauty in her eyes, fists clenched at her sides. “I just wanna keep you safe. I can’t lose you like I lost Peter..”

Gwen is scared she’ll lose you she lost Peter , miles , her dad your her only hope she wants to stay with you She doesn’t even know if she’s being selfish.

y/n signs in stress wrapping Gwen’s wounds with bandages “I know..” y/n said

“Is it wrong for me to be a hero, though? Maybe it is, but I can’t give this up just to make you happy. This is who I am, this is how I contribute towards a world in need. Please, y/n, understand that I’m doing this for the good of others.” Gwen looks over at y/n unmoving form, taking in a deep breath as tears stream down her face. “I don’t want to lose you, but… I don’t know what else I can do.”

Y/n laid down with Gwen saying “I understand gwen I just I don’t wanna lose you either! I can protect myself I also wanna protect you.”

Gwen wraps her arms around Y/n neck, pulling her in close as she rests her head against y/n’s shoulder. “Please don’t be scared, I’ll always, always come back to you. I can’t promise I won’t get hurt—hell, I can’t promise that I won’t be a pain in the ass when I do come back. But as long as I have breath left in my body, you’ll always be my number one.”

Y/n didn’t respond she only kept wrapping the bandages around Gwen’s bloody wound thinking the words that Gwen said.

“Y/n…?” Gwen wipes away the remnants of her tears, peering up at y/n. “Say something please.. What will it take for us to talk things out?”

Gwen sighs, shifting so now they’re both laying down she wraps her arm around y/n waist. “Thank you,” she whispers to her. “My heart have been all over the place tonight, and the thought of losing you it’s scary.”

“You’re welcome Gwen just please I can’t and I won’t lose you I love you too much.” Y/n said losing her grip.

“I love you more.” Gwen turns at last to face y/n moving her arm from y/n waist to her neck as she brings her girlfriend into a tight hug. “We’ll get through this, you and me. And I’ll always, always make sure to come back home to you.”

“Safely? Or injured like right now?” Y/n joked Gwen played along.

“As safely as I can get,” Gwen responds with a smile. “Look at me, all banged up yet I came back to you in one piece.” She kisses y/n nose, pressing her forehead against y/n’s “I wouldn’t make a promise I couldn’t keep.”

“You better.”

Aftermath

y/n nd’ Gwen got together their in a very healthy relationship y/n is also helping miles nd others stop the spot.

@buzzinn July 2023 please don’t copy or steal

likes nd reblogs r appreciated thank u!

#gwen stacy x reader #atsv gwen #gwen stacy fluff #miles x gwen

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primaviva · 8 months

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How do you think Gwen handles arguments with her gf, or making a hurtful mistake that makes things in the relationship rocky? (I love seeing how relationships can endure and how people learn from mistakes, it just shows how strong the bond is c:)

OMG I HAVE SMMMM TO SAY ON THIS I WANNA MAKE A SEPARATE HC POST TO GO IN DETAIL

nah but i feel like gwen is lowkey scared of the idea of confrontation with her gf because she just doesn’t like fighting with you in general. but don’t think that means she won’t bring up something that happened or if you’re acting weird cus she will. she knows communication is important no matter what and she wants y’all to be together so trust she gonna get her shit together and talk it out with you if it means she can still have her gf.

gwen really good at listening ESPECIALLY when there’s tension or y’all are in a fight like she fixates on every word that leaves your lips because she wants to understand you or at least see your point of view / how you feel

if she did something to make you upset she will apologize so fast and she won’t dare do that self pity shi where people are like “im so sorry i did that im so stupid im an awful person you deserve better🤓” nice guy ass tantrum. gwen will feel stupid and say so, but only because she feels she should’ve known better but she does not make that the bulk of her apology.

gwen is also so good at apologizing is very heartfelt and she speaks from the heart. no matter the argument like her gf know she’s being truthful just by the way her eyes tear up when she talks because gwen just wants you to know so badly how much she wants to work through stuff and be together so fighting lowkey overwhelm her.

and she’s a yeller..i don’t mean “wife beater tank top go get me a bear” yellin but she raises her voice alot it’s just natural cus she can’t contain her emotions like she wears her heart on her sleeve.

will literally die if she saw you tear up like on some grimace shake type she may start convulsing at the sight of you said because of her

she would never get physical but she moves a lot with her hands and body when she expresses how she feels in arguments so if she feels it’s best that there’s space between you two while she starts getting passionate or a like strong with how she’s talking she will make sure not to overwhelm you

her end goal is always just to have a resolution and gwen will give you space if you need but she just wants everything to be okay between her gf and clear all the air. and when it’s over she always double check with you if you’re ok, if there’s anything more you wanna say, if you just came to a conclusion just because you didn’t wanna fight anymore and that you can speak your mind, etc. it could get annoying but gwen wants her girl to be comfortable communicating with her and make sure they have a healthy relationship 😽

#🪽— angel’s spam #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x y/n

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liz-allyn · 1 year

Text

sugar and vice, pt. 19 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: your sins will find you, eventually.

words: 10.3 k

chapter warning: heavy chapter warnings for dire!whumpy situations, death, g0re, g!uns, vi0lence!

series warnings: mob-typical bang bang violence, wh-mp. hurt/comfort. s-xu-l situations. spousal ab-se. family trauma. dr-g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't remember anyone having to figure out who else was on the landline so you could use the phone, then have you really lived? maybe wait on this one.

Back to Part 18.

Part 19

“Peter, wake up.”

The voice he could hear wasn’t his own. It was soft. Feminine. Gentle, like being awoken from a dream. He was comfortable wherever he was. He didn’t want to wake up.

“Peter, wake up,” the voice implored.

The sound of it made his heart ache. How could such a comforting sound cause him so much pain? ‘Bittersweet’ wasn’t the right expression. ‘Blissful agony’ was more accurate.

“Peter,” he heard again, the tones of the gentle voice pulling him from a dreamless slumber. Then, just like a dream, the voice faded into the abyss with a whisper.

“Hold on...”

Heaven, he thought. He was in Heaven.

The sound of her voice made him want to fall down and worship. Made him want to die.

“Gwen...” he mumbled—perhaps only in his own mind. He couldn’t move his lips. Couldn’t feel anything anymore.

What a blessed relief.

His heart throbbed as he felt himself flying. He wasn’t sure if he was sinking or soaring, but it was all so fast. All out of his control.

“You can let go now.”

“Grab ‘em!”

Gwen?

“Get ‘em up on the gurney!”

“It’s time, Peter. Time to go home.”

What do you mean by ‘home’? You’re my home. You’re my path.

“C’mon, Pete, don’t you fuckin’ do this—”

“Is he breathing?”

“I can’t find a pulse. I need the paddles.”

“Jesus Christ, Pete...”

“It’s okay, Peter. You can rest now.”

“Goddamnit—wake up, man.”

“CHARGING. STAND CLEAR.”

“Clear!”

A stab to his chest. A bite to the back of his neck.

“Hit ‘em again—clear!”

His whole body jolts. He’s sticking to the ceiling of a subway car.

“You have a choice, Peter. You don’t have to go back there.”

I want to stay with you, Gwen. I don’t wanna leave.

“Clear!”

His skin is on fire. Electricity ravages every muscle in his body. It sears his flesh and scrambles his brain. And all he can see is a pair of sparkling eyes.

Her eyes.

“Stay with me, Peter.”

“Pete, stay with us!”

“We can be together, finally. Like we were meant to be. They can go on without you.”

Her eyes. Beautiful, glittering eyes, full of warmth and sunlight. Sweet. Eyes like Honey.

“Goddamn it!” —“Again!” —“C’mon, Spidey!”—“Clear!”

The web catches Gwen by the chest, but it’s too late. It was always too late.

“Peter, please. Please. You can’t do this. You can’t do this right now.”

There is rapid whispering—murmuring, like a desperate prayer. But it’s not Gwen’s voice that he hears. It’s a voice that makes his chest ache just as much.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything.”

“You need to wake up, Peter.”

“Please, baby, please wake up. I’m so sorry. Just please stay with me.”

I can’t. I can’t go with you, Gwen.

“Peter, don’t do this.”

“Please just come back—”

“Why would you want to go back?”

“I need you... I need you to wake up.”

She needs me. Miles needs me. My family — my family needs me. I need to be with them.

A pair of green eyes are staring at him, but not in anger. Instead, there’s understanding. There’s compassion. There’s a hint of pride within the emerald hues.

“Peter, please, I’m sorry. Please come back to me.”

I need them. I need to make this right.

From her cloud in Heaven, she smiles at him. It breaks his heart and makes him whole.

“Clear!”

The next jolt racks his brain and yanks his consciousness from the abyss. He’s reborn again, blood-covered, gasping, and sputtering on a gurney surrounded by worried faces. Every muscle in his body spasms. His heart groans as it flutters back to life. Air slices through his lungs like razor blades. He coughs and shudders, shrinking away from the harsh light of the living.

“Thank fuck!” he hears a hiss from next to him. It’s Eddie. How did Eddie get here?

He pried his eyes open, pupils adjusting to the light.

Eddie was looking down at him, hazel-gray eyes full of joyful tears. “Don’t you ever do that again, you crazy bastard,” he chuckled. Two giant hands wrapped around Peter’s face as he embraced him lovingly.

Peter’s focus shifted as more faces came into view.

Helen Cho stood above him as she worked the pump of a blood pressure device cuffed around his bicep. She paused only briefly to wipe sweat from her brow. Miguel leaned back against a wall with eyes closed and face pale as if he was moments from throwing up. Felicia leaned over him, glaring at him with relief and fury. He couldn’t tell if the smirk that appeared was from the joy of his survival or glee from plotting his future demise. Each of them looked like they had run a marathon.

Peter’s left hand suddenly felt warm. His eyes shifted in its direction, and he followed the small hand barely covering his own.

There she is, he thought. The eyes that brought him back from the dead.

His Honey.

The kind eyes of the woman he fell in love with—against all odds, toppling all of his defenses—were fixed on him. They shimmered with tears as she struggled to keep a steady lip, gazing down at him like he was a miracle. She held his hand tightly as if afraid to let go. He was certain she was holding onto him with the intent of grounding him, but it looked the opposite. Instead, she looked overwhelmed with relief and on the verge of collapsing into a heap of sobbing gratitude.

Oddly enough, on the edge of life and death, he was the one who felt lucky. He felt contentment with the heat of her palm over his hand. He found peace in the loving look in her eyes.

He found a hope worth holding on to.

They were almost too late, Honey thought.

They found Peter exactly where Felicia thought he would be, more or less. Near Long Island City, not far from the Ravenswood Power Station. At a clock tower with a broken face.

Peter was at the bottom on a pile of rubble. It was a horrifying sight. His broken form was covered in dirt and dust, blood trailing from his ears and nose.

He was dead. He looked dead. She knew he had to be dead.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stand straight anymore. The air escaped her lungs, like a vacuum into space, as she stared at his motionless body. The sound evaporated and fragments of worried statements drifted by—goddamn you crazy sonofabitch—sweartogod you better be dead or i’ll kill ya—as Felicia and Eddie descended upon his body.

Blinking back tears, the vision of Peter’s corpse swam in her eyes.

Her mind was elsewhere.

It was night. She was at the mountain retreat, sitting up in Peter’s bed. She leaned over him, carding her fingers through his hair. Her heart ached with sympathy, forehead furrowed with concern. He sobbed into her lap like a child, curled into the fetal position.

That night, they would fall asleep hand-in-hand.

Her fingers twitched at the memory.

Hours had passed. She was sitting, perched anxiously on the back of a plastic bench, with arms wrapped tightly around herself and her eyes hawkishly observing the rise and fall of Peter’s chest.

They were in what Peter had referred to as “The Bunker.”

It was the abandoned, unfinished ‘Roosevelt Ave.’ subway station beneath Queens. Inside the decrepit station of chipping, art deco arches, and web-covered, stained glass skylights, was a row of abandoned subway cars left to rust on a track. Unlike the rest of the station, they were buzzing with energy.

They had been modified and outfitted to serve different purposes. One car held a weapons storage cache, a server room in the next, a sleeping and dining car lined with several cots and booths, a laboratory with a mishmash of equipment from the 1990s, and finally, a medical bay, which they were in.

Peter was unconscious. His body was bloodied and bruised, stretched out in a gurney, hooked up to IVs, wires, and electrodes. Monitors beeped around him, as fluid bags slowly drained into his system.

He looked like he’d been run over by a tank.

Whatever Peter attempted to do at the clock tower, it appeared as if he’d broken himself trying to do it.

A watercolor portrait of purples, reds, and blues covered the pale canvas of his torso. It looked as if the entity—Venom, as Eddie called it—had been ripped from his body, pulled out through his pores. In its wake, it laid waste to his flesh, leaving bruises that bubbled under his skin and stained his complexion in blackberry tones.

Peter had fallen unconscious just a few seconds after being revived. Dr. Cho informed the group that he still had a pulse, but she was uncertain how long it would take him to wake up again.

Or if he would. She didn’t have to say the part they were all already thinking about.

At the moment, he was sleeping, and Honey felt obligated to watch over him. His eyes twitched behind his lids, and she wondered what he was dreaming about or if he was dreaming at all. And if he was dreaming, she hoped it was a good dream.

Selfishly, she hoped she was in it. However, a familiar, bitter voice assured her that her presence would technically make it a nightmare.

Whatever anger she held, the boiling contempt fueled by her paranoia and fear, evaporated once she saw Peter’s broken body. It was a confusing whiplash of emotions—to want to shoot someone one moment and to weep over their corpse the next. She resented the conflict in her mind but understood the clarity of her heart.

She loved Peter. Without a doubt.

Whether that was a good or bad thing, she wasn’t sure. She’d been wrong about such things before.

But now, she wasn’t focused on the dark thoughts rousing suspicion in her mind. Instead, she was focused solely on his eyes, the way they shifted beneath the eyelids as he slept. She pictured their golden hue, indistinguishable from sunlight. She envisioned charting the constellation of beauty marks on his body. Kissing the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that formed whenever he smiled. Worshipping the artistry with which the gods carved out his jaw and molded his features.

She only looked up from her dutiful watch when she recognized Miles’ voice. Her eyes darted over as the teen emerged through the sliding doors. He was winded like he’d been running. Ripping off his beanie, his mocha eyes were wide with terror as he gazed at Peter’s state.

“Miles,” Felicia breathed a sigh of relief, alerting the others to his presence. He locked his worried gaze on his mentor. Other anxious faces occupied the back of the car as Johnny followed behind Miles and joined Miguel and Eddie.

“You shoulda called me,” he protested with indignation. The complaint was directed at everyone. “Why didn’t you let me know what was goin’ on? I coulda been there to help!”

“Honestly,” Felicia answered with an exasperated sigh, “I didn’t know what we’d find. Wasn’t ready to deal with that.”

“That’s bullshit,” Miles snidely argued. “One of y’all coulda died out there!” The tiniest crack formed in the tone of his voice. He clamped down on his jaw. “Pete coulda died out there! And, what, I was just supposed to sit around—?”

“And stay alive,” Eddie muttered under his breath. He sat with arms and ankles crossed across a subway bench. They turned to him, Miles fixing him with a scolding look, but Eddie didn’t shrink away. “That’s the whole point of this, kid.”

Miles’s eyes flashed lividly. “Call me ‘kid’ one more time—”

“That’s what you are!” Eddie snapped back, overcome with frustration. “Jesus Christ, you’re sixteen! Can you blame him for tryin’ to let you just be a kid for a little while longer?”

“Mira pendejo, I don’t need you to tell me—”

“No, Pete should tell you!” Eddie growled, cutting Miles off. The beefy man stood abruptly, striding towards the teen. “But since he might not ever wake up again, I’ll speak on his behalf! So shut up and listen!”

Miles snapped his mouth shut, though his eyes screamed lividly. The scowl on his youthful face made it look like he’d bitten off his own tongue. Eddie leered closer, making the teen puff up his chest, looking up only an inch to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“The world is shit,” the older man said, undeterred by Miles’ bravado. “I know it. You know it. Pete knows it better than anyone. Your uncle dragged you into this mess, but Peter tried to give you a way out. Away from all this crap. Away from Fisk. That’s why he took on the Symbiote! Not because he was chasing a high, not because he was on some power trip—he did it because he loves you, kid.”

“By almost gettin’ himself killed?” Miles snapped back. “That’s his love language? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grumbled with a frown. Even he understood that Miles was right about that. “Some people only know how to love by how much they suffer.” He paused momentarily, keeping a stern expression while trying to conceal how much the statement resonated with him. “You either die a hero or live to see yourself become the villain. Pete doesn’t want this life for you. Trust me. You don’t want it either.”

“How do you know that, huh?” Miles said through gritted teeth. His eyes shimmered in the greenish lights of the subway car. “How do you know what I want—how does he? He doesn’t get to make my choices for me. Maybe I wanna decide for myself! Just like he did!”

His hazel-gray eyes drooped as he quietly contemplated the boy’s statement. “You do have a choice, kid,” he said, sorrow etching his features. “Just like he did.” The flared tempers simmering beneath the surface had burned off, leaving only a painful discourse behind. “And he wanted you to do better.”

Miles fell silent. His chest pumped slowly as he glared up at Eddie, jaw tensed. Cords tightened along the side of his neck, pulled taut by stubborn rage. Heat built up behind his eyelids, pushed along by tears threatening to break free. He sniffed, angrily wiping at his face, trying and failing to remain stern.

For his part, Eddie took no satisfaction in Miles’ inability to argue further. The train station was silent. From her vantage point, Honey could see the boy’s lower lip begin to quiver before he angrily bit down on it. Felicia stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Miles, albeit awkwardly.

As soon as her arms circled him, the teen’s resolve collapsed like a house of cards. His face crumpled, lines skewing his expression, and he buried his face into Felicia’s neck. Miles’ shoulders shook as sobs racked through his body.

As she watched, Honey realized she was crying along with him.

Hours passed.

More of the Spiders arrived.

Noir made an appearance but kept himself scarce. One look at Peter’s proximity to death and he spared himself from the stages of grief that would inevitably follow.

The woman Honey heard be referred to as “Redback” and “Jess Drew” arrived shortly after. She held an air of graceful authority and cautious collectedness. Although her composure was betrayed by the sight of her chewing her lower lip as Jess observed Peter. After that, she stayed away from the medical car, preoccupied with Miguel and Felicia as they discussed strategy.

The biggest surprise was the fleeting glimpse of a woman Honey had never seen. First, she saw quick movement behind the dirty subway windows. Then, a blurry silhouette zoomed across the rear exit between the cars. Finally, the doors slid open, and a pair of dark eyes blinked in her direction. A Victory roll of thick black hair pinned on the crown of her head poked out from behind the seat. As she leaned in, curtains of straight black hair cascaded off her shoulders in a pointedly-vintage 1950s style. The stranger spied on them, glancing worriedly at Peter and warily at Honey.

She was a twitchy, young-looking woman with an oval face and glittering eyes. For a gangster, her mostly-black outfit was more reminiscent of West Side Story than The Godfather. In true Rockabilly fashion, she wore a motorcycle jacket over a feminine red-and-white polka dot tank top, black skinny jeans, combat boots, and a bright cherry lip stain.

“Um... hello?” Honey asked with a shaky voice, unsure how to respond to whatever she was doing.

“I know who you are,” the woman called back from the shadows, still not fully entering the car.

Honey blinked. “Oh... kay...?”

“You never met me,” the woman affirmed, “if anyone ever asks you.”

“Um... I’m pretty sure I haven’t anyway.”

“Peni,” the voice called from the shadows. Only then did a face appear for longer than a few seconds. “I’ve watched you on camera. Hi.”

She almost did a double-take at the blunt information. Miles had mentioned the name ‘Peni’ before when referring to the team’s ‘tech nerd.’ But, whatever Honey was expecting, this wasn’t it.

As quickly as the introduction was made, it was over. Peni disappeared from view, the doors closing.

Once again alone with Peter, she stared at the empty doorway. “Hi.”

Honey was never good with silence. When it was too quiet, she was left with nothing but the parroting mockery of her inner dialogue. She recounted every word she said to Peter before the monster took over. She told him everything, and the fact that there was nothing to hide behind anymore terrified her.

What would he think of her now?

What did she think of herself? What did she think of Peter? And what would be the first thing she would say to him if she ever got the chance?

Just as her eyes began to blur for the dozenth time that hour, she spotted that the chance had arrived.

She held her breath. “Peter?”

The injured man stirred gently, lungs shakily taking in the stale air. The orbs of his eyes swam behind tightly-closed lids that were stained purple. A breathless groan crawled out of his throat.

Awe-struck, a short chuckle escaped her suddenly, with tiny tears budding in the corners of her eyes. “Hey...” she sharply exhaled, tightening her lips to keep them from trembling. One hand tightened around his fingers while the other covered her heart. “Peter... I’m—” She swallowed hard, her tongue twisted around nothing, tears dripping past her widening grin. “Hi.”

The slightest movement of his head triggered a grimace. Gently, he pried his eyelids open, like awakening from a 1,000-year sleep. She fought the urge to erupt into gleeful laughter as he laid eyes on her. Joy washed over her, sweeping her along a river of relief.

She blinked away her tears as she lost herself in the soft hue of his eyes, mesmerized by the facets of cognac and smoky quartz that rested tiredly on hers. They were, without a doubt, the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen.

A crease formed between his thick brows. “Are you here?” he murmured in a wary voice.

The smile slipped off her face at his question, eyes blinking rapidly. “I’m-I’m here.” His face didn’t soften. She suddenly thought of awful soap operas where a lead character wakes up from a coma and is stricken with amnesia. The thought stirred fear in her, followed by confusion. “I’m... right here.” Would things be better if he didn’t know who she was?

Silence. He studied her. She observed the color of his eyes dim somberly. Sadness pulled at the corners of his mouth. It twisted her heart.

He remembered her, alright.

“Why?” he croaked.

She took in a sharp breath as if a needle had stabbed her. She was shocked by the question, and in her confusion, it afforded her time to think about it.

Why was she here?

Only a dozen hours ago, she wanted to shoot him dead. Just an hour before that, she wanted to lay in the warmth of his arms forever. A handful of months before that, she was his prisoner.

Their relationship had changed so many times her mind couldn’t keep up with what her heart was feeling. Pure instinct drove her actions, for better or for worse.

But since all of her darkest secrets spilled forth from her mouth, and Venom spilled forth from Peter’s darkness, everyone had been focused solely on bringing Peter home safely. Herself included. Once Peter had been found, no one explicitly told her to follow them to the Bunker.

Instead of doing the thing she was most comfortable doing— running— she had remained at Peter’s side.

What’s that about?

A million answers swirled — I was forced to be here, I was afraid to be left behind, I had nowhere else to go — but none of them seemed right. Finally, Honey found a response that made sense. Her instincts dictated her words.

“There wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be.”

The truth sounded strange coming from her lips, shamefully. As she met Peter’s eyes, he watched her sullenly as if he were thinking the same thing.

Silence returned. The ever-present foe was broken only by a shaky cough rattling Peter’s bones. The look on his face suggested that every breath was agony.

Silence—always jabbering, when will you ever shut up?—it was deafening. Driving her insane.

“Dr. Cho wasn’t sure if—” She stopped short, anxiously rephrasing her sentence, “Um, wasn’t, uh—wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.” Her free hand rubbed her knee. The statement left her queasy. “I didn’t want you to be alone when you did.”

His lashes fluttered open, eyes full of melancholy as they rested on her. “Sweet girl.”

She gripped his hand and sat inches away, but it felt more like lightyears. It was as if Peter had died in the fall, and all that was left was a shell. The coldness of each moment pierced her heart further. Yet, despite this, she lifted her chin with resolve.

“I, um... I know it technically makes me a hypocrite,” she began softly, “but I’m trying not to be mad that you tried to get rid of the Symbiote alone.” She met his eyes with a sad gaze. “You coulda died.”

He watched her with an unreadable expression.

“I know it’s not fair for me to be angry,” Honey reasoned, swallowing down her emotion. “But when I thought you were gonna die, I was mad. And then I was sad. And scared. Maybe more scared than anything.”

His eyes drifted downcast towards his feet. “M’sorry.”

“Me too. What I did—it was... it was bad—”

“I didn’t know.”

She knitted her brows together. “Didn’t know I was sorry? Or didn’t know it was bad—?”

“Didn’t know...” he replied with a weak tone, “...what he did to you.”

Her jaw clenched tightly as heat rushed to her cheeks. She had wanted to talk but was now regretting it. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that discussion.

Peter’s eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, forehead creased with sorrow. “Didn’t know what you were runnin’ from. Thought it was me. But it was him.”

Tears brimmed as she gazed down at him. A frigid smile stretched his lips—the kind that doesn’t warm the eyes. Bitterness and sorrow weighed down his expression.

“Makes sense—why you never trusted me.” The corners of his mouth twisted downward as his eyes went glossy. Heartbreak flayed his voice. “He’s what you see when you look at me.”

He mumbled it aloud, but he wasn’t speaking to her. Instead, he was lost in a prison with bars of guilt and locks of self-loathing.

His misery cut through her like a knife to her heart. Irony mocked her. Earlier that day, she foolishly almost killed herself over the idea that Peter and John were the same. But, facing Peter in the present, she couldn’t think of anything further from the truth.

“No!” she stuttered in distress. “No-n—Peter, that’s not—I don’t, I swear I don’t.”

Remorsefully, she shook her head, welling with tears. He met her eyes again, and all she could see was despair. It was like watching a ship sink into the ocean. Like watching someone she loved drown before her eyes.

Loved.

“Peter,” she whimpered, jaw wobbling, “I... you don’t...I don’t....” Her inability to communicate infuriated her. Impatiently, she thrust the words out, “I-I love y—”

“Don’t say it,” he whispered, voice strained. He snapped his eyes shut, tearing her from his sight. “Please don’t.” It was the most desperate of pleas.

“Don’t say anything.” His voice broke on the last word. A flood spilled past the gates of his lids, rolling over whatever strength he had left. “Whether it's true or not, I don’t think I know what’s real anymore.”

Her soul shattered at his admission, and she could only nod. The trust between them— what little bit there had ever been— was broken beyond repair. No fixing it this time.

“Holy shit—he’s awake!”

She heard Johnny’s voice over her shoulder, reminding her of where they were. She looked over at Johnny, standing in the doorway of the sliding emergency exit, as he called out to the adjacent car. “Doc! He’s awake!”

Within several seconds, the car was flooded with excitement. Honey sheepishly wiped her tears away, back straightening, as bodies crowded around her. Felicia and Miles were closest to Peter, followed by Eddie and Miguel. Johnny leaped over a bench seat to join the pandemonium from the other side. Helen pushed toward the front after Felicia ordered the group to make way.

Reluctantly, Honey released his hand, standing up to give Helen her place at his side.

The doctor immediately went to work with a flashlight beaming in Peter’s eyes and her fingers on his pulse, asking him how he was feeling.

“Living the dream,” he weakly replied, with no lack of sarcasm.

“You’re lucky to be living at all,” Helen remarked coldly. “Anyone else taking a fall like that would’ve been a splatter on the pavement.”

Honey faintly responded out of earshot, her voice mouselike and thick with grief. “He’s nothing like everyone else.”

In the early stages of dawn, Honey was in the dining car surrounded by the others. Peter had passed out soon after he awakened. He slept soundly in the medical car under Helen’s observation. The doctor explained that the best thing for him would be to let him rest. Moving him would be dangerous.

Miguel pointed out that they were compromised, so there was nowhere safe to move him.

With that grim frustration, he questioned Honey before the rest of the gang. It was difficult to talk about her trauma. It was even harder to admit her betrayal to those she knew best. It was torture to talk about both things in front of everyone—strangers, like Jess and Noir, or Johnny, now catching up on what he’d missed earlier. Or Miles—especially Miles.

Part of her wanted to be offended by the interrogation's coldness and Miguel’s gruff tone. Who was he to treat her like she was a criminal?

But as soon as that defensiveness reared inside her, she cut it down. She was a rat, but did she have to be a hypocrite, too?

“Tell me again,” Miguel demanded firmly. “What else did you tell Walker?”

Honey slumped down in the bench seat with her arms folded. “Names,” she grumbled bitterly. “Times.”

With each answer, she felt her skin burning from the rising heat of contempt. There was no more hiding from it. The most she could do was be as honest as possible.

She resigned herself to scrutiny as an act of penance. “Who came and went. When they went. Where they were going. Locations.”

Miguel’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Did you tell him about this place?”

“No,” she bit back. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”

Unsatisfied, he glowered, “When did you last talk to him?”

“I didn’t talk to him—”

“Then how did you communicate?”

“Give it a rest, Miguel,” Felicia scowled, unimpressed by his ‘bad cop’ persona.

Honey didn’t feel like she was on Felicia’s good side either, but she did feel somewhat shielded by her presence.

Mercilessly, he drove right through whatever shield may have existed. “You stabbed us in the back!” he accused, pointing his finger at her. “You were offered multiple chances to come clean, but you refused, and people died. You could’ve done the right thing, but you didn’t. So I’m sorry if I’m not as sensitive to your predicament.”

Shame filled her face as she cast her eyes downward. Nothing could shield her from the guilt.

“That’s enough,” Felicia said, shooting impatient eyes at Miguel.

“Not until we know our people are safe!”

“I said ‘enough’!”

Miguel took a step back. Felicia didn’t raise her voice often, but it felt like the ground itself shook. Her eyes flashed red as she skewered him with her gaze. Quietly fuming, he glared at his superior and then stormed off.

Tiredly, Felicia sighed. “Where are we with backup?” she asked, pressing her lips into a firm line. “Who’s checked in?”

“Peni’s running comms,” Jessica replied. “Pinging everyone’s GPS now.”

Eddie mumbled through a tired yawn, “You got GPS trackers on everybody?”

“On the phones,” Miles explained. “She hacks the OS before we hand them out. Allows her to access them remotely.”

Idly, he scratched at the scruff on his face, replying, “What’s the point in that?” Then, a loud squelch from the overhead PA system erupted. Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin as if God herself were speaking.

“Means I can mine all your data and spy on you when you look up porn,” Peni’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers in the car, further startling Eddie.

“Jesus!” Eddie cursed. He hissed, eyes cast upwards at the speakers. “I don’t look up porn on the Spider phone!”

Alarmed, Johnny whispered, “Can she really do that?”

“Can we please stay on task?!” Felicia glowered.

“Miguel’s right.”

The group refocused their attention on Honey. Her head was lowered, eyes glistening. “This is my fault,” she whispered sorrowfully, replaying the series of bad decisions that brought her to this point.

When she glanced back up, she was met with more silence. Painful, but not unkind.

“I, um... I don’t—I’m not good... with... trusting people,” she said sheepishly. “Not good with... letting anyone in.” She hesitated, her voice shaky as she breathed through the heartache. Patiently, the others were waiting for her to continue.

“I... I know it’s not worth much, but I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, her eyes rimmed with tears. “I’m sorry about Hobie,” she said with an expression like she had eaten glass. “I should’ve stopped this a long time ago.”

Felicia fixed sorrowful eyes on her. “Hobie’s death wasn’t on you,” she softly explained. “Between Fisk and the Feds, there are some hefty prices on our heads. Money like that makes loyalty difficult. That night, it didn’t matter what info you had. It was one of our guys that helped pull the trigger. Most of the time, we’re pretty good at picking out the bad apples. Not always.”

Honey stared up at her with furrowed brows, nodding graciously as she accepted the tiny reprieve from guilt.

“Plus, it helps to see everything everyone does with their phone when they’re in the bathroom.” The Voice of God chimed in again, but Peni was standing in the car's doorway this time. Eddie nearly clung to the ceiling with fright.

“How are you doing that?!” he exclaimed.

Peni rolled her eyes incredulously. “By logging keystrokes, duh—”

“No, not that!” Eddie hissed.

“Not to mention, that’s a huge invasion of privacy,” said Johnny.

Eddie looked over at the tiny woman. “Do you have this place wired or something? Or bugged?”

“Wired?” their tech nerd scoffed. “Bugged? What do you think this is, Goodfellas?”

“Good movie,” Noir stated firmly.

“That’s the one with Leo, right?” Miles asked.

Johnny blanched at the teen’s response. “Wait, what did you just say—???”

“For your information, Eddie, I don’t have to plant microphones to hear your conversation,” Peni arrogantly teased, nose in the air. “What do you even think phones are for, dummy?”

“Dude!” Johnny was still staring at Miles like he’d grown extra arms, the two of them squabbling. “Don’t tell me you’re confusing The Departed with Goodfellas—!”

“Nah, man, that’s the one with the mumblin’ dude who's like ‘you come to me on the day of my daughter’s wedding—’”

Johnny’s voice soared to new heights. “That’s The Godfather!”

“He gave me a phone!” Blurting out with alarm, Honey shot up to her feet.

Jess stared, brows furrowed with confusion. “I think we’re past that—”

“John gave me a phone!” she clarified, eyes darting to Felicia and Peni. “He told me to always have it on me... Jesus Christ! He was listening! The whole time— he could hear everything!”

The rest stared in confusion while Honey grappled with the next horrifying thought.

John heard everything.

Every conversation.

Every detail.

Every secret.

He had everything.

“Oh God,” she breathed, face full of terror.

She paled at the memory of being in her bed, curled up in Peter’s arms as he divulged his deepest secrets. The phone that would damn them all was inches away, tucked securely in the box frame.

He knows everything.

Her eyes went wide, filling with panic. “They’re coming—”

“Get down!” Peter's strained voice cracked through the silence.

A moment later, a cacophony of gunfire, pelted metal, and shattering glass surrounded them. Bodies hit the subway car floor like dominos, wedging between walls and beneath seats. Honey landed hard on her side, knocking the wind out of her.

Screams rang out all around as glass rained down on them. Pops of automatic gunfire rolled on uninterrupted, like spokes on a wheel. Honey could feel tiny pinprick stings from shavings of metal and splintered plastic, like a wasp's nest had consumed the car. The exposed parts of her skin were battered with debris. As she cowered, a heavy weight dropped on her back.

The second she recognized the cinnamon and cedar scent, she opened her eyes in astonishment. Peter was there—fully awake, with wires and IVs still attached. He protected her, blanketing her with his body while she clutched him tight. She buried her face in his warmth while hell rained down around them.

“Agghhhh!” — “Stay down!” — “Cat! Get back here!” — “Kill the lights!” — “There’s too many of ‘em...”

Voices called out frantically, rolled over by the crashing waves of gunfire.

At a certain point, she wondered how long the guns were firing. Was it five minutes? Five years? The constant barrage of blamblamblam pierced her eardrums and rattled her bones, driving her insane with terror. Her heart must have outpaced the bullets. She felt Peter’s arms tighten around her, securing her to his chest.

She focused on his body heat, his breath on her neck, and the vise of his arms. It was deja vu, eerily identical to the night he carried her away from Fisk’s garage.

Her mind transported her away from the train back to that day. She trembled in the steaming water of the bathtub, trying to read his warm eyes— the color of caramel and chocolate and bourbon—while he diligently dabbed at the adhesive covering her mouth. The only roughness in his touch came from the calluses on his fingertips.

She has no reason to trust him. But she does anyway.

His long, gentle fingers. They laid out a spread of plated charcuterie and sandwiches cut into triangles onto a picnic blanket overlooking a gorgeous vista of the Catskills. That’s where she is now. Nervously, he frets about the forgotten wine, pushing his fingers through his thick hair. He looks boyish and shy.

She has every right to be terrified. But she isn’t.

She held Peter so tight she was concerned about breaking his bones and damaging him further. But she was incapable of prying her hands from him. No one could.

There was no escaping this. They were trapped. Any moment now, everything would go black. Seconds away from the darkness. Centimeters from death.

And there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be.

The gunfire let up for a few moments. A pocket of air in which to breathe.

“Goddamn it, it’s S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Miguel’s voice hollered from outside the car, although hearing him over the ringing in their ears was difficult.

Honey wasn’t listening anyway. She was listening to Peter’s voice as he crooned a heartachingly pure rendition of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,’ a song she felt might as well have been written about them.

“Honey, look at me.” His alarm brought her back to the present. He stared down at her, his eyes anxiously searching her face, while he hoisted himself above her on his forearms.

The moment she locked eyes with his, tears filled her gaze. Fear, joy, desperation—it overwhelmed her, hitting her like a tidal wave. He was still injured, she noted. The skin on his face and exposed upper body were still marked up with bruises and minor cuts. But his eyes—the tang of oranges, the golden tint of an Old Fashioned—reflected how alive he was, despite his earlier outward appearance.

Adrenaline surged through his body as he caged her with his forearms. By contrast, his voice was as soft as a feather. “Honey—talk to me.” He whispered, breathless with fear he was struggling to contain. His eyes regarded her like she was something intricate, delicate, and precious. “You okay?”

Her lungs were empty. Her vision was blurred with tears. But she nodded quickly, her chin wobbling.

A glimmer of relief crossed his features as he caressed her cheek. “Okay, s’okay... you’re okay, I gotcha—” It was unclear who he was reassuring. “You’re gonna be okay, ’m gonna get you out.”

She had no reason to trust him. But she did. Her head continued to nod, and a little hum escaped from her throat in agreement.

“Stay down, okay?” he said placatingly while his thumb brushed the delicate skin beneath her eye. “Stay right here. I’m comin’ back.”

“No, please! Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll be right back—”

“I-I can’t, please, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can—”

“I can’t lose you!”

His breath hitched. She felt his heart skip beneath his chest. Adoration pooled in his eyes. “I’m coming back. I promise.” He kissed her forehead softly, allowing his gaze to linger just long enough for a reassuring half-smile.

She had no reason to believe him. But she had to.

Before she could protest, he pushed himself up to a low crouch. Then, in the blink of an eye, she watched him leap from the ground and cling to the ceiling of the subway car. Stunned, she watched him crawl barefoot to the emergency exit at the top of the train car. Then, silently and swiftly, he disappeared through the port hole.

“Nancy! Stay down!”

Eddie’s voice... and his silly, endearing nickname. She was still on her back on the floor. She glanced up to see an upside-down viewpoint of Eddie as he reached for her. Next to him, Johnny and Jessica took cover beneath the table. “Stay right there! I’m comin’ to you—”

Another barrage of gunfire erupted, and he flattened to the ground. A scream ripped out at the rear of the subway car. Honey glanced down to see Miles crumpling into a ball as bullet holes sliced through the metal dangerously close to his cowering form. Beside him, Helen dragged herself along the ground sluggishly. She was covered in blood.

“Miles!” Honey shrieked. Her body moved of its own accord. Jarring drum hits rang out from both sides as she army-crawled toward the teen. The gunfire began to become more sporadic, with more frequent pauses.

“Reloading, let’s go!”

“The lights! The lights!”

Every inch felt like a mile, but she pushed on with her belly to the ground. She reached Miles first, pulling him to the ground and hugging his body closer to hers just as another wave hit. Honey guided Miles along the floor toward Helen as soon as it passed over.

The woman gasped and sputtered as she writhed in pain. Blood soaked through her right side, from her torso to her thigh. Eyes horrified at the damage, Honey searched Helen’s face desperately.

“To-to-tuorn-tourniquet...” the doctor said through chattering teeth.

“Gimme your belt!” Honey said to Miles. “Stay flat!”

The teen diligently reached for his nylon belt, shifting around to loosen and remove it while keeping his back to the floor. Honey took the belt from him and helped Helen wrap it around her thigh.

Just as she pulled it tight, the lights switched off. Frantically, Honey searched the cabin with terror, struggling to adjust to the darkness. More shouting, unfamiliar, followed by howls of fear and pain, surrounded her. From her vantage point, she could see shapes outside better now that the cabin lights were out.

Black-clad figures outfitted with S.W.A.T. gear and carrying more artillery than a small militia tip-toed around the car. She watched as one of the infiltrators passed by a window opposite from her. A pair of dark boots dropped onto the gunman, taking him to the ground. She gasped, ducking closer to the floor as the gunman was beaten and had his rifle taken. Then, she recognized Noir by his black trench coat, finally releasing her breath.

The relief was short-lived. Noir turned and fired the weapon, which looked like a shotgun, at an incoming attacker. The bang was accentuated by a splatter on the windows, like a can of stewed tomatoes had exploded. Honey yelped at the sight before covering her eyes. She felt her stomach rolling in her belly.

A crash forced her eyes back open. She looked through the darkness to glimpse Felicia’s silver hair and the glint of a silver knife. She fought hand-to-hand with another armed combatant twice her size outside the train. The stout man was no match for the smaller-framed woman’s speed. She attacked him from all sides, burying her blade between his ribs like fangs on a viper.

Another goon rushed at her, knocking her flat on her back. Honey’s heart nearly stopped with panic as she watched the gunman aim his weapon at Felicia, prepared to fire. Suddenly, Miguel leaped out of nowhere with the talons of his gauntlet raised.

The razor-sharp blades attached to his forearm rang out as they cut through the air. Honey had no idea what type of metal they were made from, but it was sharper than anything she’d ever seen. With a woosh, the blades sliced through the rifle barrel like a blade of grass. In shock, the gunman dropped the rifle and drew a pistol instead. Miguel sliced through the man’s wrists with the same ease, separating his hands from his body.

She looked away as another spray of crimson covered the walls and seat. She heard the gunman cry out before being silenced with a sickening squelch.

Miguel was suddenly yanked backward by a brutish figure, pulling him off the train.

“Miguel!” Felicia called out with alarm. Within seconds she uprighted herself and barrelled outside to back him up. Honey attempted to follow her with her gaze, but another burst of gunfire erupted, so close that she could smell the burning of her own hair.

“I’m comin’!” Miles hollered. Honey stayed down, too afraid to look up.

“They’re coming through the rear!” she heard Jess’ voice from nearby.

“Keep ‘em away from the train!” Johnny’s voice.

Where was Peter?

She felt sick. She hadn’t seen or heard him since he vanished. The idea of him meeting a brutal end made her dizzy. It made her flesh clammy. Bile crawled up her throat, with a rising panic close to a scream. She clamped her mouth closed to keep it all inside. She couldn’t think about Peter being hurt right now. She could barely think at all.

A gunshot, followed by a male groan.

“Storm!”

She squealed as Johnny collapsed through the train entrance and landed hard on the ground. From her hiding spot, she saw blood soaking his right shoulder.

Her eyes went wide. “Johnny—!”

Another footsoldier boarded the train behind him, wielding a bloody combat dagger. Dazed from blood loss himself, the soldier collapsed on top of Johnny, the knife raised up high. She watched the two men struggle, trembling beneath a seat. It reminded her of lions thrashing, burying blade-like claws into one another.

More gunfire erupted nearby, jolting her out of her reverie. Johnny’s attacker straddled him and bared his weight down on the hilt of the dagger. Arms shaking and hands slick with blood, Johnny clutched the blade, trying to keep it from piercing his chest.

Her eyes narrowed on the attacker. The man wore face paint to obscure his features, like some deranged Navy Seal. His tactical clothes were solid black, save for a white, geometric eagle patch on his shoulder. This was ‘SHIELD,’ or whatever Miguel called it.

Honey saw the strain on her friend’s face, noting the weakening of his muscles. If she did nothing, Johnny would be stabbed to death right in front of her.

She needed to intervene.

Do something.

She glanced around desperately for a weapon.

The men were snarling with lips curled back. The attacker raised his fist above the hilt, ready to bash the knife into Johnny’s chest. Suddenly, he was smacked in the face by a midweight object. Dazed, he blinked through the darkness to spot a blood-splattered ballet flat on the ground. He looked up, glimpsing its owner.

Wide-eyed, Honey stared back at the SHIELD agent as he set crosshairs on her. The man bounded forward, lunging at her. She screamed, crawling backward like a crab, as the man grabbed her by the ankle above her bare foot. He held the knife high, preparing to plunge it into her chest. A blam rang out, stopping him in his tracks, as a bullet tore through the man’s heart.

As her attacker toppled backwards, Honey turned around to see Jessica holding a smoking pistol. Without a second thought, the woman rushed up to Johnny and lowered herself to his side. “Are you hurt?” she asked Honey, offhandedly as she examined his stab wound.

Honey shook her head ‘no.’

He grunted in pain as Jessica put pressure on the wound beneath Johnny’s collarbone. “Get his gun,” she ordered as she worked. Honey blinked at the gunman’s corpse, hand still clinging to a bloody knife.

“Get the gun!” Jess repeated, eyes intense. “Works a lot better than a shoe.”

She blinked. “I... I can’t.”

The Woman glanced up at her with a hard line between her brows. “It’s either them or you. Who’s it gonna be?”

Honey stared back, face blank. Jessica pressed her lips together. “I have to check on Cho. Put pressure right here.” Honey crawled towards them, replacing Jessica’s hands with hers. She gulped dazedly, watching the sticky, red warmth pool around her fingers. He hissed in pain, but diligently, she held the compress firm.

The Woman stood quickly and shuffled over to the dead man, retrieving his sidearm and knife. She returned with the pistol in hand, ejecting, examining, and replacing the magazine like flexing one of her muscles. She wrenched back the top of the gun, letting it slide back in place with a lock.

Honey watched the whole thing, jaw agape like it was a magic trick.

Deftly, she flipped the weapon around, presenting the grip end to Honey and placing it in the woman’s hand.

“Now it’s them or him,” Jess declared firmly, jerking her forehead towards Johnny. “You choose.”

Bewildered, she warily took the weight of the gun as Jess disappeared toward the back of the train. “Don’t shoot anyone we know!” the Woman called out.

Honey stared at the gun, then found Johnny’s sweating face. “It’s okay,” she whispered, putting weight back on his wound. “I’m gonna take care of you.” She swallowed the tremor in her voice, putting on a face of confidence, despite her terror.

She could pretend to be brave? Right?

Another spray of shots pierced the cabin overhead, and she crouched down to cover Johnny.

The barrage of shots eased again, pausing for a blessed few seconds. “Incoming!” she heard Miguel shout outside. “Ultraman’s here!”

Ultraman? What...?

The emergency lights in the tunnel dimmed as a whirring sound began to ring out. With eyes like saucers, she witnessed growing pandemonium outside. More shouting and panicked footsteps echoed in the darkened tunnel, followed by a slowly-building roar, like a jet engine coming to life.

“Get down!” she heard Miles’ voice behind her. He leaped over the bench seat and pressed his body over hers and Johnny’s. Suddenly, the train jerked sideways, knocked off the track like a toy. The bodies inside were tossed to the opposite wall as the car toppled over.

Head throbbing and eyes blurry, Honey gazed around attempting to get her bearings. A bright, red light erupted, a beam cutting through the floor of the car, just a few feet away from where they had been thrown. She watched in horror as the vehicle was sliced in half like a loaf of bread.

Shrieks from terrified men echoed outside. The car rocked, metal twisting as the train's rear tore away. With her jaw agape, she peered down the train car, now opened up like a tunnel. Finally, her eyes found the source of the commotion.

A ten-foot humanoid robot smashed through the bodies of the SHIELD team, knocking them down like bowling pins. She watched in stunned disbelief as the robot’s giant legs trampled fallen soldiers beneath its mechanical feet. The arms of the robot were as thick as steel beams but faster than a human’s. They thrust out in all directions, tossing adult bodies like rag dolls. The machine was a red-and-yellow blur, with shells bouncing harmlessly off its bulletproof skin.

“C’mon,” Miles grasped Honey’s shoulder, pulling her to attention. “We gotta go!”

“What is that thing?” she gasped.

“It’s Peni!” he shouted back. “Now, c’mon, let’s move!”

Shaking the astonishment away, she followed Miles’ lead. She grabbed Johnny’s legs as the teen hooked his forearms underneath the injured man’s shoulders. They grunted from the effort of hoisting him up.

“m’sorrym’sorrym’sorrysorry...” Miles rattled off as Johnny wailed in pain. “Don’t be mad at me!”

The two carried him towards the tunnel opening, wobbling as they walked. Honey spotted movement from beside them— a gunman peering into an emergency port hole.

“Miles! Look out!” a voice boomed. She glanced over to see Eddie flying across the car, tackling Miles as the automatic weapon started firing. She screamed, dropping herself and Johnny to the ground, as bullet holes pierced the side of the car.

When she looked up, she stared at the white-eagle emblem on the shoulder of the agent as he turned his gun from Miles to Honey. The man crawled through the port hole, just feet away from her.

Horrified, she looked around until she saw the pistol Jess left her with lying in the rubble between her and the attacker. Eyes wide, she scurried on her hands and feet, crawling towards it. The gunman rushed her as soon as he saw what she was doing.

For the second time in her life, Honey fired a gun. She jolted from the shocking recoil after the trigger had been pulled. The man howled and dropped to one knee. Stunned, she watched the man writhe, having taken the bullet in his shin.

He looked up and glared at her with a murderous stare, fumes coming from his nose. Her jaw went slack as he lunged at her. She fired the weapon again, this time hitting him in the torso. It barely slowed him down, planting into the Kevlar of his vest. Before she could adjust, the attacker’s hand was wrapped around her throat, and he wrenched the pistol from her fingers.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” he spat at her, wheezing from the impact to his bulletproof vest. “Can’t wait ‘til he tears you a new—”

The man’s grip dropped immediately as his head wrenched backward.

Honey looked up in awe to see Peter, splattered blood beading down his chest, towering over them. Teeth gritted, he held the man by his hair, his massive hand expanding over the crown of his head. Then, with an enraged growl, Peter jerked his arm back.

She watched the gunman jolt as his scalp was ripped off so forcefully that the top of his skull came with it. The man flailed, legs twitching sporadically like he’d swallowed a power line. Finally, Peter released his body. With blank eyes, he slumped to the side, brain matter spilling out.

She trembled at the horrific scene, watching the attacker go limp. Her wide eyes traveled up to her rescuer.

Peter Parker. Half monster. Half man. Chest heaving, animalistic eyes roving, his savagery on full display. Her jaw hung open as she regarded him with horrified awe, with several thoughts swimming through her head.

One.

He looked feral. Blood trailed down his face and torso in tiny crimson rivers. The ghastly sight made him look both dead and alive. More beast than man. Even without the Symbiote attached, his eyes were blown black from adrenaline. She thought about how Eddie mentioned Venom ‘reacted differently’ to Peter. And now she could see why.

Violence was in his very nature. He wore it around his shoulders like a cape. Carnage was his crown. The blood staining his flesh only made him stand taller, like a conquering barbarian on top of a mountain of skulls. He never needed Venom to become something monstrous. The violence was visceral, and he could never be separated from it. Not completely.

It was terrifying to witness. She should be terrified.

Two: she wasn’t.

She realized this as he locked eyes with her, suddenly going still. She watched him. He watched her. Both of them thinking the same thought.

This is who he was. Peter Parker.

Not Venom.

Not Ben Reilly.

Not any other false name he used to conceal himself in the darkness. As much as it terrified him, he was the darkness.

His eyes softened as he looked down at her, like a switch had been thrown. He turned docile only under her gaze.

This was also who he was. And she realized that she didn’t want him any other way.

“Are you hurt?” Peter quietly asked, crouching before her as he scanned over her figure. Eyes glistening, she nodded, her mind stricken with deja vu. He reached out delicately with bloody hands and tipped her chin upwards until their gazes met.

She swayed as exhaustion collided with her, weakening her muscles. “I-I...” she mumbled, jaw agape and shoulders limp, staring up at him with a hypnotized expression. “I... lost my shoe.”

He blinked in confusion before glancing down to see one of her ballet flats was missing.

“I think I saw it over here,” Johnny muttered through gritted teeth, snapping them out of their bubble. They turned to see him sprawled out on the ground, holding his shoulder with a thin sheen of sweat on his face. “I’m okay too, by the way.”

“Johnny!” Peter said, alarmed. They dropped back to the ground and flanked the bleeding man. “Can you move?” he asked, brows furrowed.

The blonde grunted as he held onto his pectoral muscle, blood soaking half his shirt. “Sure. Flesh wound.”

A cocky smile filled with pearly white teeth assured them he was still relatively ‘normal.’ They breathed a sigh of relief as Peter delicately helped him up into a sitting position.

The attack had ended. Honey wasn’t entirely sure when. The whirring steps of the robot approaching caught her attention. She looked down to see the red-and-yellow mecha-spider step up to the opening of the train car. “That’s the last of them,” Peni’s mechanized voice declared. The robot’s torso opened to reveal Peni sitting inside. The wizard behind the curtain with painted blood-red lips.

“They’ll be back,” Peter said grimly before turning to Honey.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared back at him. Guilt gutted her, breaking her heart and every bit of strength left in her body. “This is all my fault.”

Just as Peter was about to reply, the broken sound of Miles’ voice clipped him short. The teenager whimpered, dread filling his lungs, “Guys...”

Peter and Honey turned towards Miles, seeing the teen crouched over on his knees. A body lay before him. They scurried to their feet, rushing to his side. Honey froze mid-step, eyes wide with horror.

“Eddie...” she gasped.

The burly man was on his back with a gaping hole in his chest. Slowly, it pooled with blood as he wheezed in short spurts. Miles leaned over him desperately, trying to stop the bleeding with his soaked-through beanie.

Eddie looked ashen, the life drained from his face. His eyes were wide as they stared up at the ceiling, filled with horror and awe. He sputtered and coughed, his lungs struggling to keep the liquid out. Blood tinged his lips.

“Eddie!” Honey yelped, dropping to her knees to bring her hands over Miles’s.

It was like trying to hold back a river. All eyes were now on Eddie’s dire situation—Noir, Felicia, and Peni approaching quickly. Jess and Miguel looked on from the back of the car, both of them pausing momentarily from trying to assist Helen.

Miles gazed down at his savior, lip wobbling and hands shaking. “He... he pushed me outta the way. He-he saved me—”

“Christ!” They heard Felicia curse as the silver-haired woman rushed over and touched Eddie’s pulse. Honey glanced at her, watching fear capture the fearless.

“We need help over here!” Peter called out, voice strained with panic that Honey had never heard from him before. He was winded with terror as his palms enveloped Miles’s, frantically working to stop the bleeding.

“Cho’s hurt bad,” Jessica called back. Beside her, Miguel was hooking his arms beneath the doctor’s legs, hoisting her up off the ground.

“It’s okay, we-we got this,” Honey called back. Hysteria slowly choked her. “I-I can fix this! I can patch him up!”

“But Helen—”

“I can do this!” Honey hissed, desperate tears spilling down her face. “I just need a-a med kit or... Sutures! I can sew it up, all she’s gotta do is walk me through it.”

“Sweetie,” Felicia uttered under her breath. Honey froze in her gaze, her blue eyes glazed with tears. “She’s not even conscious...”

She wore a mournful expression, condolences pouring silently from her mouth.

Honey would have none of it. Defiantly, she shook her head, lips pursed into a straight line. “I’ll figure it out myself!” she choked back a sob. “Just—somebody, get me the med kit! Get me—” Honey blocked out the worried stares that surrounded her.

Instead, she focused on Eddie. She thought about cupcake frosting smeared across the scruff of his chin. His benevolent nature as he pulled in drags of smoke, offering peace to the world in return with each outward breath. She pictured his hazel-gray eyes weighed down by heavy bags and a lifetime of failures. Despite that, his eyes persevered to retain their brightness.

He was tranquil amidst the turmoil of his life. Grateful despite his misfortune. In the middle of their war, he was a pacifist. A peacemaker.

He saw everything. He saw Peter as a brother. He saw Honey as a friend. He saw both of them as worth saving.

And now she saw the light fading from his eyes. “I can do this,” she whimpered weakly, tears spilling down her face. “It’s okay. I can fix this.”

“Honey—”

She paused, feeling the featherlike brush of Peter’s breath across her face. Hesitantly, she met his sorrowful gaze, her heart aching at the sight of tears trailing down his cheeks. He was silent, fixing her earnestly with a knowing look. He didn’t have to say anything. She could read the hopelessness written on his face.

There was no fixing this.

Somberly, they gazed at one another, both of them mirroring each other’s grief.

“S..ssay,” Honey heard a tiny voice whisper beneath her. She looked down to see Eddie looking up at her, teeth chattering. His lips were curved into a faint smile. “Wh—why the-the-the l-long face, N-nancy?”

It was like her heart literally ripped in half. She struggled to keep her sobs muted, clamping her mouth closed.

“Y-you... sh-should e-eat a Peanut Butter co-cookie, or so-somethin.’” He grinned wide, his teeth stained red. Tears dripped from her chin as she hiccuped out a small smile through her anguish.

His eyes traveled from her face to Peter’s. Though he appeared more composed than Honey, Eddie knew what Peter looked like when he was in agony.

“T-tha-thank y-you-u,” Eddie shivered, staring up at Peter with love in his eyes, “for s-saving my life.”

Red-eyed, Peter winced like he’d swallowed glass. He breathed through his nose, afraid that if he opened his mouth his soul would spill out.

Eddie gazed at him with a lopsided, lazy grin. “Don’t b-be too ha-hard on yourself.” Another cough shook him, staining his lips even further. Peter released his hold on the wound to wrap Eddie’s hand in his fist. He held on tightly as if to steady him against a heavy current.

“M’mm-’m afraid to-to die, Pete,” Eddie said with a shaky voice. He faltered for a single moment. Fear prodded at him as each expansion of his chest became heavier. Each breath came up shorter than the last.

Then, as stubborn as ever, he smirked with a flicker of light filling his glossy gaze. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he considered the irony. “Th-that’s-s gotta co-count for s-somethin’, right?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, nodding tearfully in a silent reply. When he opened them again, the current was stronger. The light was fading as it began to pull him under. Peter and Honey gripped tighter, as if their resolve could hold him.

“S-s-so...” Eddie said, locking eyes with Peter. “Thank... you.”

Into the darkness, he drifted away.

Continue to Part 20

{back to the masterlist}

A/N Sorry for the tearjerker cliffhanger! This story is coming to a close in just a few chapters (maybe 3 or 4). Thank you for sticking with me this long. I hope that the next chapter will have everything you've ever dreamed of.

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starbase-yorktown · 21 days

Note

For the wip title ask game: how to live with living forever/ruin (of bitten lips and broken hands) 👀👀👀

I would also love to hear about your oc novels, so whichever you want to talk about is good!

💗💗💗

*cracks knuckles* let's go @zzoomacroom, you asked for three WIP updates and you're getting three WIP updates. Answer Part 1.

ruin (of bitten lips and broken hands): sequel to my centennial husband big bang fic nothing grows in corpses (in the earth of me) which you can either read there or read more about here first. The overarching series is titled how to live with living forever. But where NGIC is about Morpheus' unwillingly resurrection and him coming to terms with living after months of a gruesome existence strike, "ruin (of bitten lips and broken hands)" is about him learning to come to terms with his flaws and the ways he hurts others, about learning how to be a better man under the straining tutelage of Hob Gadling (and his gf Gwen who SERIOUSLY deserves better, RUN, BABY GIRL, RUN). Here there be murderous breakups, toxic codependent relationships, Linda Martin of CW's Lucifer tragically getting roped into this shit show to help folks learn accountability and healthy coping strategies, and all-in-all a Dreamling endgame where both men have to take a long, hard look at themselves and do some growing up and healing before they can truly reach for each other.

+++

That night, Hob drifted in that in-between of sleep and wakefulness until he became suddenly very acutely aware of someone crouched at his bedside. Someone with wild, gravity-defying, technicolor hair was bowed all close to him, peering into his face almost nose-to-nose with those unblinking eyes—

“Jesus fuck!” he shouted and startled into full-blown wakefulness in the same shaft of fear.

“I dunno if Jesus fucked,” Delirium frowned, suddenly enamored with this line of thought. “He was really very busy, busy like the bees and the birds and—”

Hob turned wildly to Gwen for some measure of assistance—a twitch, a snore, he'd take anything—only to find her somehow still sound asleep despite the chaos unfolding not an arm's length away. He'd worry about that unnatural slumber next, he decided, and twisted back to Delirium, nearly grabbing her by the arm as he hissed his demand.

“What are you doing here?”

She blinked at him like some kind of eerie clockwork doll, her head turning this way and that in kind. “WatcHInG yOu sLeEp” she said, and her voice layered and echoed and distorted in a way that made Hob’s blood run cold. The strength in his voice turned to rubber.

“Wh-w-why?”

“He likes you," she said as though it were obvious. "He doesn’t like a lot of people. Doesn’t like me all the time. I wanna see what’s inside you that makes him like you.”

Hob swallowed.

Are you there, God? It's me, Robert Gadling.

“……..A-And?”

The girl shrugged. “Dunno.”

And before Hob could figure out how to protest, spluttering and moving to scramble clear up the headboard far too late, Delirium climbed into bed with him, straddling his belly and settling atop him with a weight like an elephant despite her willowy, tiny frame. His hands held at his shoulders, afraid to touch her anymore than he already was, and he casted about for something, anything to help him out of this predicament without having to shout for Morpheus or Gwen.

And then her hands were touching him, gripping his sides, her fingers slotting into the cage of his ribs, and he tried to jump clear out of his bones with a nervous, uncomfortable laugh. “Fuck—”

“You like that word.”

“S-sorry,” he stammered as he watched her poke and prod, watched her play with the carpet of hair on his chest with all the curiosity of a child, watched her reach for his head and lift the strands of his hair. She combed her fingers through it, just to see what it felt like, and tracked the form of his muscles and bones from his shoulders to his arms down to his hands with a firm, probing grip. She sniffed at his scalp, his neck; something warm and wet dashed across his skin, and she pulled back, running her tongue along the top of her mouth with a perplexed expression as if pondering the very taste of him for an answer to her question. Hob’s stomach turned. “Just. Just a bit uncomfortable.”

She looked sharply into his eyes, seizing on his words as if they held the answers she sought. She picked up his hands, feeling every finger, every callous, bending his joints through their ranges of motion.

“Why?”

“Hey, um.” He took the risk and closed his hands on hers, trying to hold her still, “D-Delirium, was it?”

“MMhmm,” she frowned, trying to extricate her hands and continue her so very important study.

“Look, I-I’d love to help you understand your brother, but this is really not appropriate. You should come back in the morning like Morpheus said.” She had been stilling as he spoke, staring at his hands on hers, and a light bulb went off in his head: a way out, a way to distract her. “Wh-where’s your dog? He’s probably real worried about you—”

“He’s with the fishies,” she mumbled.

Hob gulped.

“A-as in dead o-or—”

“No, sleeping! Don’t be silly, it’s sleeping with the fishies, not drowned with the fishies or chopped up with the fishies or run over with the fishies—” She had been fighting to pull her hands free again, frowning all the more deeply even as her voice lilted and twirled, and Hob gripped her a bit tighter despite his better judgement.

“Delirium.” She stopped. She stared into his eyes this time, and he felt the world begin to get a bit fuzzy at the edges, felt gravity begin to tip. “Go home, lamb. Or g-go back to where Barnabas is sleeping, I’m sure he needs someone to look out for him while he rests. Right? You can come back in the mornin’. Promise.”

Her hands relaxed in his. And he cautiously let her go, seeing a wavering in her expression and body language that led him to think she was finally going to sulk away. What he did not anticipate was for her to draw her arms to her chest, like a child hiding away within herself, and then for her to pitch forward with rising shoulders and a doming back until she was pressed to his chest like a loafing cat or a scared toddler.

For a moment, she just laid there.

Then, she began to shake; her breaths began to tremble, and icy-hot tears seared his skin as she began to weep….

This fucking family. Jesus fucking Christ.

#my writing #fanfic #the sandman #dreamling #the sandman netflix #hob gadling #morpheus #mine #WIP ask game

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autistic-ben-tennyson · 2 months

Text

In Defense of Julie Yamamoto

I want to talk about Julie as I’ve noticed she gets a lot of hate from all corners of the fandom. Omniverse fans consider her boring, some fans write her as a toxic girlfriend especially Bwen shippers and she got the short end of the stick from the writers. As an Asian American, I want more Asian rep as well so that’s another reason I’m defending her and am still salty about how OV treated her.

The thing is, she always tried to be supportive of Ben since the start of Alien Force. She was willing to help during Big Chill’s pregnancy and tried to reassure Ben after his identity was leaked. While she was upset with the way the arrogant clone acted in Duped, she accepted Ben had responsibilities as a hero. She only got mad at him after learning he snuck off to watch the Sumo Slammers movie. That wasn’t even the first time he did something like that. Back in Pet Project, he lied so he could stay home and watch a movie. That doesn’t make him a bad guy, he probably doesn’t get much time to himself as a hero. The problem is a lack of communication as they could have just talked about it.

As for the claim that she was boring, we see glimpses of her personality that go beyond tennis player. She’s a bit headstrong as she would often charge into danger, examples being Pet Project, Greetings from Techadon, and Inspector 13. She can be a bit stubborn about what she believes in and really wants to help people when joining the Flame Keeper’s Circle, something she shares with Ben who also has a hard time changing his mind and really enjoys helping people. It’s a shame we only saw her dad once. Something UAF didn’t do nearly enough was flesh out the characters families more. Let Julie interact with Carl and Sandra and vice versa. Have them stage an intervention with Ben and their concerns about his fame. Ben meeting Julie’s parents could have been a motivation to be a better boyfriend. Flesh out her relationship with her dad. Dwayne McDuffie was a big supporter of diversity in comics. It would have been a great opportunity to show a healthy Asian parent-child relationship as opposed to the Tiger parent stereotype.

Now onto Omniverse. For starters, like the AF trio, her design feels like a step in the wrong direction. Julie was always shown to be very mature and yet like Gwen, she dresses more like a 10 year old in OV. As @vreedleedleedle pointed out, her design looks much more like a racial stereotype than in UAF especially her eyes. Second, the end of Ultimate Alien made her important as a character where she was able to talk some sense into Ben when he was about to remake the universe in his image. You’d think from the ending that she’d be part of the team more often. Then OV doesn’t mention her until the end of season 2 where we learn they broke up. Even if you prefer them as just friends, they didn’t do nearly enough with her character and she doesn’t make another appearance till the harem episode where she’s used for jokes. Julie deserved better than how the writers or fans treated her and she’s not a bad girlfriend. She respected that Ben had a job to do and only got angry when he didn’t care about her interests. Again, them having flaws doesn’t make them bad people, they’re emotionally immature teens who’ve been through a lot of traumatic events. They’re going to make mistakes.

#ben 10 #ben tennyson #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 omniverse #julie yamamoto #ben x julie #benlie #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 analysis #fandom racism #asian american #ben 10 fandom

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