Friendly. Neighborly. Spiderman-ly

[spidxyy]

[ ✉ → @cleverbxrd  ] You know I saw the craziest thing on flipboard today.

[ ✉ → Timmy  🐦 ] Something about construction at the manor? 

[ ✉ → Timmy  🐦 ] Is this like new rosebushes kind of thing or like... our night jobs kind of thing? 

[spidxyy]

itsbxtgirl​:

( 📩 → pete 🤘🏻 ): ok shoot [ …. ] ( 📩 → pete 🤘🏻 ): sir. ( 📩 → pete 🤘🏻 ): why do you do this to me ( 📩 → pete 🤘🏻 ): obviously ghosts exist outside of the spooky gotham homes too ( 📩 → pete 🤘🏻 ): have you not watched the conjuring?  ( 📩 → pete 🤘🏻 ): google it!!

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] It’s in my blood! 

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] And I watched a video about Gotham’s most haunted places 

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] Pretty spooky!! 

[...]

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] But /do/ they? 

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] Even if they do... I think they all come from Gotham. 

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] I will not! Thank you for the suggestion though! 

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] Let’s go ghost hunting. 

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] Do you think Tim’ll come? 

[spidxyy]

rictorscales​:

/

“You traded ice cream for that? I think you got played, dude.” Rictor leaned forward to inspect the mask with a snort. It looked like the kind you’d get for free at a kid’s birthday party in a grab bag. Definitely not worth giving up an ice cream for… but maybe it was less about getting a mask and more about giving a kid an ice cream. Just because Rictor wasn’t the kind of guy who looked to make kids smile didn’t mean nobody was, right? “I don’t know, I think he’d make an exception for that. It’s just embarrassing.” 

Rictor huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes at the shit Batman impression. “You’re bad at this,” he said dryly, swatting at the mask. “Just stop trying. It’s getting, like, progressively worse. Jesus.” Then something shifted, and it felt like they were getting dangerously into ‘serious’ territory. Rictor leaned back. “Sure, I guess so. Maybe. I don’t know, I’m not really pro-advice.”

“Yeah!” he said, “of course. It made the kid happy and, I mean I don’t really need ice cream anyway. Gotta watch those calories, amiright?” He asked, his hand slapping at his stomach which growled rather pathetically. Spider-man-ing really used up his energy reserves on the best of days and today, well, he was hungry. He had been really looking forward to that ice cream cone. That delicious, delicious, double strawberry waffle cone- he was getting distracted. He awkward patting turned into an even more awkward finger-guns before he simply shoved his hands in his pocket to avoid any more embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m trying, alright?” He laughed, his cheeks a scarlet red as he ducked his head. “He’s got a really deep voice.” He glanced down at the mask before leaning over to throw it in a trashcan. “What, like you’ve never gotten good advice or you don’t give good advice or you don’t believe in the concept of advice? Because those are all really different things and I feel sorry for you if it’s the first two but I have questions if it’s the last one.” 

[spidxyy]

[ ✉ → @itsbxtgirl] I've got a question

[ ✉ → Steph 🦇 ] and before you ask... yes, it does have to do with my theory that ghosts are real, but only in Gotham.

[spidxyy]

what are you reading there? @voidsubsumed-bat​

Peter glanced up, his look of annoyance quickly turning into one of awe. It wasn’t everyday that someone like Bruce Wayne spoke to you, especially here, just outside the chemistry building at NYU. A million thoughts ran though his head, most of them being HOLY SHIT THAT’S BRUCE WAYNE, and why is Bruce Wayne talking to me, until they settled, his eyes drifting from the man’s face, down to the science journal open on his lap, and back up again. 

Granted, he had been inside Wayne Manor more than once, but the man had always seemed aloof at best. He barely spoke to Tim, much less the stray Tim brought along with him.

“It’s Doctor Octavius’ atomic research. His experiments on nuclear fusion are insane!” He gushed, his eyes lighting up at the thought of being inside the lab during one of those trials. That was unlikely though. Internships with Dr.Octavius were hard to come by and with his Spider-man duties... he would be dropped and then, well, Peter shuddered at the thought of how heavy his disappointment would weigh on him. 

“He’s basically creating a small sun. He could solve the world’s energy problems. Renewable, green energy without the threat of nuclear proliferation. It’s just, wow.” 

[spidxyy]

rictorscales​:

/

Rictor made a face at the raspy tones, turning towards the other man with a quirk of his brow. The kid looked about his age, but… “Did you get that at a fucking Party City?” He wrinkled his nose, snorting lightly. “The real Batman’s gonna come put you in a coma, dude. That’s not even his catchphrase. It’s something lame about vengeance or Halloween or something.”

Peter laughed, pulling off the mask to look at it. It was terrible quality, the plastic so thin that his fingers were warping it even with the gentle grip he had on it. “Actually some kid traded me for it,” He laughed, “I had ice cream from that bodega.” he explained with a fond roll of his eyes as he gestured vaguely behind him. “He wouldn’t! He doesn’t just beat people up for making fun of him, you have to rob someone or try and hold the stock market hostage, or create a death ray or something.” He knew that much for a fact, Tim made fun of Batman all the time and he only got disapproving looks and grunts in return. 

It was cool. 

“I’m pretty sure his catchphrase is, ‘I’m Batman’ actually,” He said, lowering his voice to a rather pathetic growl and raising the mask back up to his face as he said it, “But my version is cooler. It’s, um, really good advice.” he said, looking down at the mask. 

[spidxyy]

twentyninetynines​:

spidxyy​:

This century (and the one preceding it), by Miguel’s time, was known as the Heroic Age. It was a time of heroes, a period in which you couldn’t toss a rock in New York without hitting someone in a costume. If you listened to the way Alchemax spun it, this was a bad thing. The history books always sold it as a time of chaos and confusion, a terrifying few years where property damage ran rampant and civilian casualties were so common that everyone knew someone who was killed in the middle of some superhero battle or another. The heroes, Alchemax had always insisted, were dangerous.

But their powers were enviable. 

That was why Miguel’s project had been funded. Alchemax hadn’t wanted the personalities of the heroes from this decade to make any semblance of a comeback, but the abilities? Those had been something the corporation was interested in. Of course, it was Alchemax’s own attempts to scrub the Heroic Age from the history books that made things so difficult when it came to recreating those powers… largely because no one really knew what powers heroes had. Miguel had known names, and he’d made assumptions based off those names. For example, the title Spider-Man, in Miguel’s scientific opinion, implied that the person behind the mask might boast things like organic webs, venom, and sharp talons. The strength was a given, of course — the user needed that to be able to properly implement usage of the webs. It had all seemed pretty obvious.

Except, apparently it wasn’t. Because Miguel was looking at Spider-Man right now, and he didn’t see talons like the ones Miguel had on his hands and feet. He was willing to bet there were no fangs under that mask, either, and there was a small device on his wrist that seemed to be the origin of his webs. Aw, shock. Miguel made himself a freak, and he got the powers wrong. Go figure.

Something on the back of his neck tingled as the other costumed vigilante got closer, and Miguel shoved the feeling away to focus on the matter at hand. Spider-Man, the one from the Heroic Age, approaching. Making small talk. Right. He’d gotten the impression, based on the way people reacted to his steely silence and dry remarks that this version of Spider-Man liked jokes. Excellent.

“Are you sure it’s not just because you sound like you’re twelve, and they feel awkward?” His tone was dry, and the expression he wore beneath his mask was deadpan. Of course, the expression didn’t matter much, considering. You’d think, after so long, Miguel would stop bothering with making faces while in Spider-Man mode. “I don’t want to take pictures. And I don’t know how to give directions.” In Nueva York, sure, but sticking around to give directions there tended to mean the Public Eye showed up to arrest him, and Miguel was a very big fan of not being arrested. 

Heroic-Age-Spidey (should they come up with different names for each other? Shock, this would get confusing quick) continued, seeming… eager in a way that reminded Miguel a little of Gabri. Like he was excited to have someone who might understand him. On some level, Miguel got that. He would’ve killed to have another Spider-Man around in 2099, but… The Heroic Age was different, wasn’t it? There were plenty of heroes to hang out with. He hesitated for a moment, shifting. “I don’t know how… alike we really are,” he admitted. “I mean, at a glance I can tell you’ve got some different things going on than I do. Your wall crawling technique is different, for one. And…” He paused, watching carefully as the other man shoved the hot dog into his mouth. “You don’t have fangs, do you?”

“Well that might be part of it, sure,” Peter agreed readily. He knew that it was a little strange to see a man of his stature trying to save the day, given that the people of New York were used to men like Captain America, or Superboy, or Cyclops to come to their aid, men who looked looked like they could stop a train and would readily. He had been mistaken for younger, and while it used to hurt his pride more than he liked to admit now it was just a part of life. He was small, but Uncle Ben always used to say that good things came in small packages, that he looked just like his dad and nowadays that was enough for Pete. 

That was neither here nor there though, right now he had to focus on the other spider-person who, from the looks of it, wasn’t thrilled that he was babbling away. He wanted to ask so many questions. Had he been bitten by a spider too, were there others, had he been just as lonely as Peter often was, slinging across the city. Honestly, it didn’t seem like the other man was inclined to tell him anything more than the bare necessities to get him to stop talking, which really begged the question as to why he would want to save people to begin with, seeing as how little he seemed to care for their company. 

Maybe being a hero was just something integral to some people. Not a choice, or a fate, or a burden, just natural. Like breathing. 

“Oh, are you not from around here? I mean, are you not form New York?” Or Earth? the question lingered, nagging at the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he had ever heard. “Because it’s just a grid system, so, like, directions are pretty simple around here.” 

His legs swung underneath him, as his fingers tangled together. He felt a little foolish, a little much, as he was apt to be at the best of times, but he was excited! There were tons of heroes, but there was only one Spiderman, at least until now. They could help each other, work together, be friends even, maybe, hopefully. That would be nice. So many of Peter’s relationships fell by the wayside because of the read and blue warning sign that stayed hidden beneath his flannel button-ups. Maybe this other Spider-man would understand. 

“Well, if we’re not that alike one of us is going to have to change and, no offence dude, but I call dibs.” He finished his hotdog with a happy hum, sucking the ketchup off of his fingers before pulled his mask back down. “My wall crawling technique is tested and true, tank you very much. It’s efficient and requires the least amount of effort of any that I’ve tried.” He whined, his fingers  wiggling in front of him to further illustrate his point. “But, no, gonna have to say no to the, uh, fang thing? All of my teeth are super normal human teeth, well, that’s not entirely true, my enamel is harder than most people but that’s a Par- uh, that’s just a me thing not a Spider-man thing.” So maybe his alien theory held more weight than he originally thought, if this dude had fangs. Peter could get down with that, aliens were cool, as long as they didn’t try to attach themselves to him like the symbiote had or lay eggs in his chest cavity like, well, that had never happened but he had nightmares about it after watching Alien when he was seven. 

“I know you’re like me though,” He shrugged, “I can feel it. Can’t you feel it too? My spider-sense went off like WA-POW!” He punched at the air, “But it wasn’t scary like it usually is. Just, I don’t know I’d never felt anything like it before. I felt you as soon as you swung in, which, you know, thanks. You really helped me out back there.” 

[spidxyy]

i didn’t hear a word you just said. @boomboombaby​

“Oh,” Peter said, “That’s alright, honestly most of the time I just start talking and only stop when something explodes or someone walks away or there’s a fire, you know?” He nodded, picking at his chin as he scuffed his worn out converse along the linoleum of the run down coffee shop. “Not that I would have anything to do with any of those, or like be able to do anything, I’m just-uh, scared of that sort of thing. Kind of a coward, you know? Just little yellow-bellied Peter Parker here. Yep.” 

He forced a laugh. Jesus, he was so bad at this whole secret identity thing. You would think after nearly eight years of it he would get better but it seemed like his mouth ran before his brain had a chance to catch up about ninety percent of the time. It was probably a good thing that most people got that glazed over look in their eyes whenever he opened his mouth. Small mercies, he supposed. 

“So, coffee. Crazy, right? Bean water. I love me some good bean water.” 

[spidxyy]

*just a fucking gif with text*  @rictorscales​​

[cleverbxrd]

BLACKOUT // [ dare ] for @spidxyy​ to dare Tim to touch a construct.

        They’d been roaming around the streets, ghostly apparitions that twisted and morphed from one second to another. They vaguely resembled people Tim knew, loved, loathed… It was pretty fuckin’ cool.

        Meeting up with Peter, with Spider-Man though all of this was even cooler. Going to college in New York instead of Gotham had been, what he was thinking now especially, the best idea he’d had in a while. The two heroes met each other outside of the capes, and if he hadn’t been so filled with residual teen angst, they might’ve been even better friends a lot faster. Though, right now, with this massive weight lifted off his chest, everything that hadn’t happened between them felt like less of a worry than it ever did. In fact, he might be having too much fun with his web-slinging crime-busting partner.

          The built-in night vision didn’t help with the feeling of being so young again, but he never had to use it for too long. There were green ghosts, constructs he knew the color and shape of too well as something that might belong to a Lantern. His deductive mind filed it away for later excursion, later case-making, but for now he was smiling, laughing even, at the prospect of reaching out and touching one. “What? Are you too afraid, bug boy?” Tim asked with a chuckle, already balancing his staff in both hands. “It’s literally just a trick of the light, it can’t actually-” 

          His sentence was cut off as the staff bounced off the form, white-lensed eyes widening on contact. “… Oh.”

[spidxyy]

When they had met, years ago when Peter had still been experimenting with his webs chemical makeup using “borrowed” supplies from the chemistry department at NYU and Tim had sported a perpetual look of over-caffeinated and under-appreciated, he had been infatuated with the man. All Peter had wanted to do, since the first day they met, was be Tim’s friend and he felt rather confident, nearly six years later, that he had succeeded in that. He was one of the few people who knew who lie underneath the cowl, after all, though after Tim figuring out who he was only a few weeks after meeting it was a relief to find out that the man was just that under the whole red robin getup. He had been extremely confident for a while that he was just a robot or something, created by Batman to be a crime fighting machine. Lord knew that Gotham needed somethin of that sort, but he was just a kid, like him, trying to make the world a little better. 

Their friendship was always a little like that. Peter falling behind and Tim waiting for him to catch up, never looking back but always there, patient if grumpy. And god, was Tim grumpy. The only time he really smiled was when he got a text from Steph, or when Peter made a really dumb joke, or when he talked about his team, though that last one hadn’t happened in so long that Pete wasn’t really sure how to approach the topic anymore. That was why he didn’t do teams, they always seemed to fall apart. The Sokovia accords had proven that well enough on its own that Peter really didn't need it reinforced with whatever had happened to Young Justice. 

He kind of missed hearing those stories though. They were always fantastical in a way his own often weren’t, though being on a team with a demi-god, a super, and a speedster probably lent itself naturally to the fantastical. 

His lenses widened and then refocused as the construct, as Tim had called it, shifted, first into a painfully familiar form, warm and welcoming and strong and then faded into another, willowy and carefree and then back again. They were kind of freaking him out, if he was being truthful, but Tim stayed as poised as ever, even as he laughed, shuffling forward only to be met with a seemingly solid object. 

“Weird,” he said, his head tilting as he crouched. Usually solid objects liked to slam him into walls and he wasn’t going to be caught off guard, especially not when he could feel every nerve in his body come alive, crackling with energy as his hairs stood on end, “Rob, you should probably-” his thought was cut off as the construct turned, eyes glowing as Pete shot a web toward Tim’s back to pull him just out of its reach. “A trick of the light huh? Light definitely doesn’t do that!” 

[spidermangifs]

[redmjwatson-deactivated20210506]

@spidxyy [Closed Starter]

Mary Jane wasn’t a stranger to black outs, they were a common thing in the neighborhood she grew up in, but this was next level. And of course her boss wanted to find out information on it as quickly as possible so here she was on the case. As she explored the streets, using her phone’s flashlight to help light her way and taking note of things that she saw, it was interesting to say the least. There was a sort of ambiance in the air as it felt strange, almost uneasy. It made her want to go home quickly though she wondered how much safer it could be there. 

As she turned the corner into an alley, a shortcut to her apartment that she took almost daily, MJ bumped into someone. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” She responded quickly before she flashed her light from her phone on the other’s face. A small gasp escape her before she composed herself. “Peter?!” She said when she saw that it was him and hoped he didnt notice her shock expression on her face. “ What are you doing here? Wait thats a dumb question. Jameson wanted photos of what’s going on and that’s why you’re out here too.”

[spidxyy]

It seemed like there was never, ever enough time in the day for Peter to do everything that was expected from him. His cameras had been strategically placed in his favorite nooks and crannies high above the street line of the city nearly twelve hours ago now but between being thoroughly freaked out by how could Mr.Stark could apparently be during times of crisis, delivering pizzas to the kitchen, saving various civilians from the fires that had erupted across New York (why was it always fires?), and dodging calls from his program advisor (a city-wide blackout was not a good excuse to not relay his thesis progress, apparently), Peter was pretty sure that his cameras would be destroyed, or worse, stolen. He really, really couldn’t afford to replace another one, he was still reeling from having to pay for a new phone after he had dropped his while swinging from the upper west side to 64th two weeks ago. 

He had been forced to pose with a bank robber to get a shot that would pay for it. Jameson had written a scathing commentary about Spider-man stealing money from the elderly. 

But, for as little luck as Peter tended to have it must have been his lucky day because here, in this dingy alleyway, one of his cameras hung precociously from a web, dangling in a way that looked like it was seconds away from plummeting onto the damp concrete below. (Damp with what, Peter shuddered to think about). 

He gave an excited fist bump, and with a cursory glance around he scaled the brick wall and grabbed his camera, flipping through the captured photos with a groan as he hopped back down to his feet, his hoodie askew and his hair grimy with the lingering smell of smoke. He picked at the webbing that covered the camera’s lens as he cursed. There was no such thing as good fortune for Peter Parker. He didn’t know why he expected any different. 

“It’s alright I’m just- oh, MJ. Hi.” He flicked his fingers, frowning at the useless, stingy webs that clung to them before eventually giving up and stuffing his hand in his pocket. “I-yeah, Jameson is, well, he wanted pictures of the menace. He thinks Spider-man had something to do with.” he huffed a laugh, gesturing around them. “You shouldn’t be- I mean, why are you- or?” he sighed,  “You should be anywhere but here. It’s really dangerous.” 

[dailyspiderman]

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING 2017| dir. Jon Watts

[spidxyy]

kxtepryde​:

[📱to Oops I Did It Again ] okay, first of all, no [📱to Oops I Did It Again ] not in a million years will Taco Bell be better than a pizza [📱to Oops I Did It Again ] second of all, there is no world in which I’ll ever believe you did not intend a pun, but I’m giving it a solid 4/10 [📱to Oops I Did It Again ] third of all [📱to Oops I Did It Again ] :( [📱to Oops I Did It Again ] no nacho fries :(

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] I have varied tastes, Kitty. In hard times like these only a crunchwrap supreme will fill the hole in my soul. 

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] Plus, what if it’s one of those gluten free pizzas with the gross sauce that taste like ketchup? Taco Bell is better than that, for sure.

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] like... not for my stomach but for my heart. 

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] metaphorically. Taco Bell is probably really, really bad for your heart. 

 [ ✉ → pspspspsps ] I am both hurt and offended that you A: won’t take me at my word and B: wouldn’t give me at least a 6/10 for follow through. 

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] I know! I was thinking of going to NJ to see if any of the TB’s there were open but... /Jersey/ 

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] I’m not even that desperate, and I’m me. 

[spidxyy]

[ text ] do you think taco bell is open? 

[ ✉ → @kxtepryde ] God doesn’t a chalupa sound good right now? Like... better than pizza. 

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] AND NACHO FRIES! THEY’RE BACK KITTY YOU KNOW I LOVE THOSE

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] but no. I already swung by and every TB in Queens is totally closed. 

[ ✉ → pspspspsps ] no pun intended. 

[spidxyy]

[ phone ] for the SENDER’S MUSE to keep checking their phone and the POSTER’S MUSE calling them out on it. (Superior!Tony) @avengerofiron​

This was... terrifying. Objectively more terrifying than anything else he had ever been a part of and considering what he did in his off-hours that was certainly saying something. Doc Ock, Vulture, even Green Goblin had been nothing more than annoying gnats buzzing around the city compared to the terror that seemed to be taking over New York. Aunt May had turned the soup kitchen into a safe house, the saint, and had cried real, fat tears when Peter ripped his arm from her grasp as she begged him to come and stay where she could make sure he was safe. She had pleaded, had even invoked Uncle Ben’s name in-between shuddering breaths but Peter had to go. He had to try and save his city.

He told her the photos would be worth a fortune. 

Now he paced along the side of an alleyway, his eyes darting frantically as his lenses widened and retracted in kind. Tony seemed distracted, which Pete could understand, he could! The city was on its way to ruin after all, but this seemed... different. 

“Uh, Mr.Stark?” He tried, ““M-Mr.Stark, shouldn’t we be helping people or something?” His eyes dropped to the man’s phone and then trailed back up to his face. The hair on the back of his neck rose instantly, his entire body succumbing to a shiver. “Mr.Stark are you okay? You keep looking at your phone and I’m not really sure what the protocol for something like this is for the Avengers but it seems like maybe texting shouldn’t really be the priority at the moment?” 

[spidxyy]

This is your fault! I asked you to help me. ❞ @supersxn​

Peter was glad that Superboy couldn’t see him roll his eyes as he swung from one building to another, crisscrossing behind the man as they both tried to draw the egomaniacal supervillain of the day out of the heart of Times Square and closer to the bay, if only so that the acid the woman had decided would make a fine redecorating tool would fall safely into the bay, which, on second thought probably wasn’t the most ecologically friendly option, but there weren’t any others that he could think of at the moment and, for as much as he liked the sweeter Superboy, he wasn’t exactly a fountain of good ideas in a crisis. 

“My fault?!” He yelled, sticking to the side of a building and narrowly avoiding a stream of corrosive acid that ate away at the side of the building with a speed that genuinely terrified Peter, “How is this my fault? Aren’t you supposed to be invincible or something?” 

He webbed the building together as best as he could, sighing in relief when the acid seemed to bubble around his compound without eating through it. 

“Okay, you distract her and I’ll...” he paused, “figure something out.”