Hey guys, so when I made this post, I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. Now that I’m way more mellowed out and had the chance to read a lot of reactions and responses, let me act my age and actually clarify some things.
First, I want to apologize to those who were deeply upset by my post. My post overall was towards those who claim they don’t write for a specific audience, and yet put specific descriptions in their work. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with adding certain details to your reader, such as gender or body type. The issue comes in when you don’t properly title and tag it as so, or completely ignore it altogether.
If you see my post as an eye opener and want to change up your work, then you have every right to do so, but please do not think that this is an attack or jive directed at you. It’s just that some of us readers want exactly as promised. That’s like blindfolding someone, telling them that you’re gonna feed them an apple, and then making them bite into a banana - peel and all.
I know some writers have said that they want to be more inclusive in response to my criticism. If that is what you truly want, then by all means, but I cannot stress enough: write what YOU want to write. Do not feel as though you’re being pressured to change what you put out; it’s just a means of how you categorize it.
Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and engage with my original post. I truly appreciate the perspectives shared, they’ve helped me see things more clearly and refine my thoughts.
Earth 42!Miles somehow getting transported to earth 1610 and pretending to be the regular Miles. Going as far to take out his braids and tone down his Spanish accent in order to pass.
Earth 42!Miles who paused at the first time he saw what could have been his life if his dad had never died. If he hadn’t followed in the steps of his uncle.
Earth 42!Miles who sees you for the first time in almost a year. Freezing in place when he sees your familiar smile like nothing had ever happened to you.
Earth 42!Miles who comes to resent 1610!Miles because of his perfect life.
Earth 42!Miles who pretended to be your Miles a lot longer than he anticipated all to see you. Constantly fixing his act whenever you pointed out something was different about him.
Earth 42!Miles who treated you like the angel you are because he never got to back in his home.
Earth 42!Miles who dies a little inside every time he sees you, just like how you died in his arms all those months ago.
Earth 42!Miles who generally feels fear for the first time when he starts to glitch because he’s in a different dimension.
Earth 42!Miles who goes through hell and back to find a way for him to stay and be with you and his family.
Earth 42!Miles who eventually has to decide whether to sacrifice himself or his happiness because of his predicament.
a spiderverse x spiderman!reader x batfam concept different from my spidernoir one
exposition is fairly simple, peni-parker!reader comes back from the boarding school they were sent to by the family to "keep them out of vigilante business" but are blissfully unaware that for the past few months, peni!reader's been working on a mech suit to support their new found spider powers, after getting bitten by a radioactive spider while away at school.
with access to bruce's batcave, luke's indulgence in your "academic strive" and your stealth and sneaking about, you're able to make your suit pretty quickly. unresolved feelings from your past, and this sense of debt you feel, you decide to repay by being SP//dr... spider for easy-comms.
the thing is, peni!reader is an anomaly, since this spiderman in this universe in not meant to exist. maybe some stuff with the spider society and all can come in and we find out that actually, the spider that bit peni!reader was from this universe and spiderman is allowed to exist here.
but to investigate what a radioactive spider with the wrong genetic data was doing in your universe, where is wasn't supposed to be* spidernoir agrees to drop down to gotham to help peni!reader to figure it out. he becomes, essentially, a father figure for reader, something that bruce hasn't been able to due to the weight of reader's and his past.
meanwhile, when peni!reader comes back to the manor from 'boarding school' the family notices physical and mental changes in them. their more distant, dismissive... confident in their skin. though you guys never had much time to talk or hangout or bond like they do, the development is difficult to notice.
additionally, sightings of a man in a trench coat and a car-sized robot swinging around have been going around, doing god knows what. the batman doesn't like being unprepared, and tries to scour out their identities and whereabouts. i have some really small little ideas that'd be funny for the whole run, like spidernoir showing up for a parent-teacher conference instead of bruce, ai assistant karen, commentary from spiderpunk, constantine and strange link up and also delve a little into what the themes between spiderman variants, spiderman, and batman are that make them so different are.
i'm rotting away like an oxidised apple but rlly dont know if i should write it cus ive got so much 2 do... if ppl are interested at all i mkigbt consider
in conclusion: I LOVE YOU SPIDERNOIR AND PENI PARKER!!!!!
*supposed to be = not in the sense that how mile's spider teleported to another earth, but like, peni!reader was just not meant to be bit, and that spider is not supposed to exist. the dc and marvel universes are parallel, with peni!reader's existence being a small, hairline road between the two.
Paring(s) :: Y!Platonic!Batfam x MagicalGirl!Reader x SV
Warning(s) :: (?)
Divider Creds :: @muerdida and mostly found on Pintrest!
m.list|
➥000, the start that was filled with glitter!
[name] felt like she was cursed.
It just seemed nothing in her life went her way.
Maybe it all started with her mother, the woman she barely knew.
She made it known that her life would've been perfect if [name] had never existed, unintentionally anyway, droning on and on about how she was going to be someone big and get a degree if she hadn't had a one-night stand with some random stranger and how she was unsuited to be a mother at such a young age.
[name]'s mother was from a well-off family with a reputation to uphold, and if news spread that she was pregnant in the first place, their family would be in ruins. So, they disguised [name] as her grandmother's daughter, where she would, incidentally, have a 'miscarriage'.
[name] knew her mother would never outright say it, but she knew her mother wanted to get rid of her; it was clear as day with how every time she stared at her own daughter, her face contorted with regret.
[name] knew her mother didn't fully hate her or love her, but she definitely felt detached from her.
It wasn't long until her mother had forced [name] into the hands of Bruce Wayne. For she believed that he would somehow provide [name] some sort of solace that she couldn't.
So with that, her mother made a phone call, [name] spotted that the contact name was [M/D] (Mother!Darling).
The other line sounded excited, ecstatic that her mother called. [name] didn't remember exactly what went down in the conversation, but she decided she wouldn't dwell on it too much.
Eventually, though, in a few days, [name] would be in the Wayne manor, and everything she knew about her mother would become a distant memory.
When she came to the manor, she didn't expect warm hugs and smiles, but she also didn't like the feeling of once more being abandoned and neglected.
There in all his glory was Bruce, the man of the hour, the billionaire playboy who contributed a lot to the community. The one who's never home. The guy who never even held a proper meeting with his biological child.
It surprised [name] as she grew up to wonder why her mother didn't just use her to build a relationship with Bruce, but she later on found out the only reason he slept with her mother was that he was using her as a rebound for his true love.
Besides that point she later on she would meet Barbara, then Dick, which led to Jason (the happy version that died) and when he came back he wasn't "Jason" he was Jason the one who died and came back Jason, the one who she didn't talk to anymore, there was also Tim who integrated himself into the family, then Cassandra, additionally Stephanie who wasn't really apart of the family but stayed long enough to be in it, mainly sticking with Cassandra, the golden boy (quite literally) Duke, then the fresh out of assassin training Damian, and finally the favorite of all [D/D]. (Daughter!darling).
As the years went by and the new editions of family members came in one by one, [name] could only see once more a family that didn't involve her, like the universe was screaming in her face again, 'Hey, if you didn't get the memo the first time, you don't exactly deserve a loving, functional family.'
Sure, [name] could always say she tried to be part of a family, but you can't really force your way into relationships that ran deep; it was more of a process, one that [name] just wasn't a part of.
So she learned things about her family through the news rather than from interactions, and accidentally caught a glimpse of their other identities, which they hadn't tried hard to hide, as half the time they didn't even notice she was there, as if she didn't even exist.
Which leads us to the present, the fated day when everything changed.
She had her trusty iPod, which she had bought on eBay, in her pocket, along with wired earbuds, and was listening to whatever she felt like in the mood for.
[name] was one of those people who believed that you shouldn't spend too much time on your phone as it wasn't good for your eyes, and she enjoyed the environment around her, even if it was Gotham.
Recently, [name] just had her sweet sixteen, finally being able to drive a car and all that jazz; it wasn't a bad birthday. In fact, she could go as far as to say it was her favorite, as her friends had thrown a surprise birthday party for her.
Despite the year added on, [name] hadn't felt all that different from when she was just fifteen; she hadn't felt all that different today, either.
As far as she could tell, nothing was special, until a glittery comet or whatever it was landed straight in front of her, leaving a dent in the already terrible sidewalk.
She blinked, registering what just occurred in front of her. She took out an earbud as she slowly approached the supernatural event.
What she didn't expect was some cute-looking cat alien to appear out of the hole, jumping with a cute sound effect backing it up.
"Soda!" The thing emerged, energetically cheering, making [name] jump back.
"What?"
"You!" The creature acknowledged [name], walking up to her.
"Uh-"
"My name's Soda! And you, you are who I've been looking for, precure!" [name] held out her hands as the creature jumped into her palms.
"Precure?" [name] tilted her head.
Soda kept going on about negative emotions that turn into cartoony-looking villains, once defeated, a charm is obtained using it to cleanse the negative environment and help out in Lalalove land, and how [name] was the only magical girl who could do this.
[name] nodded along, but she was planning on just running home and abandoning Soda, but she decided to just take them along her way home.
So, against [name]'s better judgment, and her self-diagnosis of the possibility of going through a psychosis, she headed home, the creature known as "Soda" hung out in her bag, continuing to pester her on the subject.
But maybe she should've listened to Soda, because it would've been better than going into the situation blind.
"WHAT IN TARNATION IS THAT?!"
"LOONEY!" The creature shaped like a car shouted before hitting the ground, making it rumble, splitting the road into two.
"That's a Loony! Inside contains a person whose love has been transformed into gloominess!" Soda yelped, clutching onto [name].
At least she knew her badminton training paid off with how she dodged the blow.
"LOONEY" The "loony" shouted more irritated, shooting a light beam from one of its head lights, [name] was about to dodge before seeing a child civilian shaking, who was also in line with the shot.
"Mama…?" [name] kicked her foot of the ground before rushing to the kid, hugging him tightly as they rolled at a high speed, her back slamming into a nearby wall of a building. She grunted before standing up, like she was in a shoujo anime.
Scratched up and all with her knees bent, but she stood up anyway, after checking up on the child who knocked out, hopefully from shock, seeing as she took the blow.
"Precure! Make-up!"
A flashing light appeared enveloping [name], her hair covered in a pastel galaxy before turning longer and changing to a pink color, ribbons surrounding her figure before her legs clicked together before platformed boots appeared onto them, and the ribbons dressed her up into a poofy drills filled with frills, ribbons, bows, sparkles, and a voluminous skirt, her hands clapped and a pair of gloves wrapped around them with bows on them as well, her head turning to each side as ribbons and bows were placed on it, finishing off the look with a signature smile and grabbing the puff powder to each side of her face, blinking away the glitter, she turned back striking a pose.
"What was that!?" [name] turned to question Soda, but her question goes unanswered as the Loony slams its fist in her direction.
[name] leaps off the ground, before she can process the inhuman ability, she spins and twists her body, applying force into a kick, slamming it down on the car anomaly.
"Loony, get up and hit her with a reflection!" Another voice spoke up, nasally and feminine, and she was floating!
'Who in the world-' but [name] got blinded before getting charged at, being rammed into a wall.
[name] pressed her feet against the wall before pushing herself forward once more, nailing a punch into the Loony.
"Let's finish this!" [name] announced before she summoned a badminton bird into her hands, throwing it up before slamming it with her racket into the Looney, making it burst into glittery hearts.
"LOOONEYYYYY!~," It screamed before the glittery surrounded the area and didn't just simply restore it but made it renewed, all the old, dirty, and even maybe not safe stuff disappeared, most stuff that was necessary was replaced.
"Shoot! Lady Maldive will hear about this!" the figure snapped her fingers before disappearing.
[name] looked at Soda, her bubbly personality coming into play as she jumped with joy!
"We did it!" As they kept celebrating, a charm floated down into her hands, and that's how the adventures of [name] came to be.
Restoring Gotham and collecting charms to help out Lalalove land.
But the question was whether being a magical girl going to be the craziest thing in her life, or maybe another factor would come into play.
This is awkward... technically, I have fulfilled my New Year's promise, but probably not with what you guys wanted.
I decided to do this on a whim and also because I got into Spider-Verse and liked the Magical Girl concept.
If this one wasn't obvious, I'm scrapping my first ever work and clashing it into this one (So Much More "Hold me, Console me" au), it was just such an overdone prompt that was leading to basic y/n territory with nothing much, her ending was just going to go back to batfam and again, I did not care much for it, it was like my first experiment.
Guys, [name] won't be mainly pink; she will be other colors, it's just that she starts with pink, and as the chapters start coming, also [name]s power will be diff. since there are variations of previews, sailor moon, cardcaptor sakura, shugo chara!, etc. You will see how in the world I incorporated all of this in.
Overall, how did you enjoy the prologue?
Anyway, good morning/afternoon/evening/night!
Any mistakes, plot holes, corrections, and especially interactions, mainly comments, are appreciated!!!
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.
Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.
“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
“OW!”
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.
“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.
“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.
“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.
“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.
It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”
“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”
“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
“Please,” he mutters.
“What was that?”
“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.
“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask
“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.
“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.
“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.
“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.
“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.
“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”
~
“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.
“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.
“What makes you think so?”
“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.
“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
“We’re actually married.”
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 4.1k
Synopsis: Hobie falls down the rabbit hole and meets multiple different versions of himself from different universes.
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, multiple variants of Hobie from my different AUs, cowboy!/OPIN! Hobie, dad! Hobie, Vampire!/IPOB! Hobie, TTN!/Bestfriend! Hobie, Prowler! Hobie, Fae!/TF! Hobie, Spy!/ Mr. Smith! Hobie, Pirate!/BDAS! Hobie, CW food mentions, established relationship, fluff!
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Octobie'25
Custom banners by @across-the-spidershroomverse
Support banner by @/cafekitsune
A/N: I can't believe Octobie is almost over 🥹
The fight with the sandman was tedious, Hobie’s heaving and sweating as he watches the anomaly get wheeled back to HQ. He’s so knackered that his knees are wobbling, and his arms and wrists ache from all the web swinging he did. There’s a cut on his forehead where the sandman got lucky with a fist made out of sand. He never thought that sand could even hurt that much to begin with. He’s glad that there’s no sandman variant in his dimension.
He’s left standing in the aftermath of the fight, buildings crumbled before him, sand dunes covering streets and cars. It’s as if the whole city turned into a desert within the short hours of the struggle.
“You look like shit.” Gwen appears behind the portal with a hand on her hip as she saunters over to him.
Hands on his knees, panting, he notices his trainers on her feet before looking up at her with a glare. “Are those my chucks?”
“Y/N let me borrow it since hers doesn’t fit me.” She shrugs, looking at his sand clad suit teasingly. “You better shake that off before you come home, she was having one of her cleaning maniac phases before I left.”
Sighing, just the thought of seeing you at home has him wanting to run away into your waiting arms. “Thank fuck…” he mumbles to himself before taking a step towards Gwen and then shaking his head and body as sand flies and flicks towards the blonde.
“Hey!” She pushes him away as Hobie chuckles. “I just washed this, man!” Wiping her suit, she groans when the sand sticks to the spandex of her gloves instead. “Oh, come on!”
“Now you have to clean up too before goin’ back home.” Flinging some sand away from his watch, even scrubbing at the screen to clear some stubborn bits away, he dials in his home dimension. He groans when he remembers something you asked him to do before giving him your usual kiss at the door. “Ah, shit.”
“What? Did it break in the fight?”
“No, I forgot that lovie wanted me to grab some walnut bread for dinner.”
“The one from Miles’ place?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Hobie blows a tired raspberry as he inputs 1612’s coordinates. “She fancies that stuff better than ours.”
“I could get it for her.”
Almost immediately, Hobie’s eyes flick back at Gwen with a teasing glint. “Alright.”
“Shut up and give me the cash.” He could tell that she’s blushing under her mask as she pats her open palm.
“I didn’t even say anythin’.” Handing her a couple of bills, she rolls her eyes and walks back to the portal. “While you’re there, invite him over.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Walking backwards, Gwen flips him the bird before the portal closes behind her.
Snorting, Hobie turns his attention back to his watch as the lights flicker for a moment before he smacks it and the screen returns to normal. He makes a mental note to clean it when he gets home, for now though, he needs to melt into your arms or else he’ll collapse with his own longing.
He needs a cold pint after all that, and maybe some ibuprofen for his aching muscles. So without wasting any more time as the clean up crew finally arrives at the scene, he opens the portal to home and steps into a kaleidoscope of orange and red lights. Hobie’s fatigued body floats around the colourful tunnel in precise directions until he speeds up abruptly, the kind of speed that could be felt through the neck, a quick snap of momentum that has his limbs flying about.
“What the fuck?!” Getting a glimpse of his watch, he sees it flicker in and out, colours inverting, gears buzzing and the screen turning to black. That can’t be good.
Suddenly freezing in mid air, the tunnel shifts backwards as if someone pressed rewind on a remote control. His body floats aimlessly in zero gravity for a moment, until the tunnel turns again. He’s then flung about, back and forth and then around and around like he’s being blended into a smoothie. The G force was enough to make his neck hurt, jaw tightening as he flexes his muscles when he sees the light at the end of the tunnel. He braces for impact.
He thanks all his spidey experience for handling the rough landing. Rolling onto the familiar wooden floor, a tactical roll over the couch that has his muscles throbbing even more, he finally falls on solid ground, limbs limping and relaxing when he’s face to face with the houseboat’s ceiling, complete with the chipping eggshell paint, and some plastic glow in the dark stars. Wait, he doesn’t remember putting those up.
“Love?” Calling for you on instinct, he keeps his gaze up on the ceiling as he feels the tiredness creep up on him. “I think ‘m goin’ to sleep ‘ere.”
“You’ll catch your death there, big man.” His own voice answers back at him, tone strikingly similar to a light southern drawl.
Hobie’s head immediately lifts up as he stares at the source of the voice. His eyes widens at the leather cowboy standing by his feet with a glass of whiskey in hand. As if having a cowboy inside his living room wasn’t enough, the said visitor sports his own face, complete with his signature nonchalant expression. Despite the obviously different style, he has a very noticeable scar across his neck.
“What the fuck?” You’re the first thing that pops in his mind, are you okay? Where the fuck are you? “Where—?!”
“I didn't know we ‘ave a new member, old man.” The sound of footfalls has both Hobies turning to look, where a sharply dressed version of him sits on his armchair with his leg casually thrown over his thigh. This Hobie smirks at shocked Hobie’s raised brow, knowing damn well that he’d never wear something as claustrophobic as a navy blue suit. He has more questions when he sees blood splattered across his dress shirt, and a holstered gun peeking underneath his coat. “I think we got a live one ‘ere.” Smirking, he swishes his martini casually.
“What’s happenin’? Why the fuck are you all in my house?! And where’s—?”
“I thought I was smarter than this.” Another Hobie says, casually leaning against the wall as he wears an almost exact same spider suit as him. Except that he wears a different leather vest that looks like it’s been worn down but well loved that includes a very obvious cherry patch right atop his heart. “You’re in a different dimension, bruv. Fell through the crevice like Alice, innit?”
Realization flickers in his eyes, groaning, head falling back onto the floor, he grimaces and checks his watch. Sure enough, the screen is buzzing with different streaks of light. The sand definitely did more damage to it than he thought. That’s what he gets for trusting Miguel’s tech instead of using his own.
“Fuck.” Biting the inside of his cheek, the smell of salt and sea breeze suddenly wafts over his nose. When he opens his eyes, he faces a large tricorn hat that hides the face of its wearer. For a moment he thinks that this one doesn’t bear his face, but when the pirate looking man crouches down and smirks, he knows that it’s a variant of him too. “What the fuck are you supposed to be?”
“This one got some fuckin’ lip.” This Hobie’s tone is commanding, like a captain running a tight ship but with all his Hobie-like flare with his silver chains dangling around and leather boots that look well tended to. “Like all of us, I suppose.” Tilting his head, the pirate narrows his eyes at Hobie’s full head of hair. “Am I the only fuckin’ one?”
“What?” Scrunching his nose, his eyes roam around the identical faces. “A pirate me? What’s next, a fucking cryptid version of me?”
“I guess the closest one is a minotaur version of us.” The most similar Hobie to himself says against the mouth of his pint.
“Oi,” the suited Hobie flashes his mismatched eyes. “Don’t forget ‘bout fairy and Vamp over there.” He gestures using his chin towards the kitchen, where two more Hobies stand side by side conversing amongst themselves.
The ethereal looking Hobie clad in green and with sad eyes knits his brows. “For the last time, Smith, ‘m not a fairy.”
“Tomato, tomato.”
“I’ve got no bloody wings.”
The chill velvet clad Hobie clasps the fae’s shoulder. Wine red eyes glowing under the kitchen lights as he swishes a suspicious red liquid inside his glass. “D’you want me to drain him? Jus’ say the word.”
“Alright, you broken souls.” An older Hobie steps up from the bedroom as the other variants stop their banter. He has smile lines around his lips, and crow’s feet around his brown eyes. His long braids have white hair weaved around each braid beautifully, salt and pepper hair that adds to his charm. Hobie could only hope that he’ll age that well. He guesses that he will be. “Welcome to the club, what’s your gimmick, hm?” The man smiles at him, dimples in full display, one that Hobie doesn’t have.
“My gimmick?”
“Aye, what’s so different ‘bout you that separates all of us from the other?” The pirate sits down on the couch with a groan. “Sometimes it’s more obvious.” He gestures around his 1700’s seafaring attire.
“Sometimes it’s not.” The cherry Spider-Man says as he leans away from his post to grab a spring roll from the dinner table. Suddenly Hobie’s feeling a lot hungrier than before. “I had a will they won’t they with my childhood best mate. My Y/N and I are together now, don’t worry.” He says while chewing.
There’s a sudden sobbing wail coming from the kitchen.
“Look what you’ve done, mate.” The vampire hisses, fangs sharp as he tries to soothe his fae counterpart by patting his back. “You’re bloody callous, I swear kids these days.”
“Can’t imagine bein’ away from my lovie.” Someone in the corner adds, the darkness hides him as Hobie could only see a purple outline around his eyes and form.
“Isn’t your lovie the black cat?” The older Hobie says with a teasing tone before the Hobie in the corner backs away into the dark once again. Shaking his head, the older one seems to be the one in charge, or tries to be as he keeps everyone from biting each other’s heads off. They do say that the ones who are similar to each other are the ones that end up not getting along. “Cowboy Hobie over there is obviously a cowboy—”
“An outlaw.” He corrects, shooting him a finger gun in his direction.
“Sure,” old man Hobie sighs tiredly. “the one in the corner is the prowler version of us from earth-616.”
Hobie looks over his shoulder to stare at the mysterious Prowler hunched in the corner as he hears munching coming from the dark. “How come I’ve never seen you lot at the society?”
“Not all of us got bit by a spider.” Reaching towards him, the silver fox gives him a helping hand. “I avoid the society, and Wallace over there,” he gestures towards the punk Spider-Man with a cherry patch on his vest. “Usually avoids spider variants of himself.”
“So what’s this then, a support group for us?”
“Sort of, we talk, give each other shit and sometimes a helpin’ hand.” The cowboy utters as he fidges with the bandana around his neck. “Shit, we are a support group.”
Once on his feet, Hobie dusts himself off, making sand fall from the crevices of his leather jacket and from his pockets down onto the carpet. The older Hobie raises a brow, russet eyes striking him like a chastising father.
“I’ll clean it up.” Hobie’s immediately looking around for a vacuum.
“Don’t even try to clean, I’ll vacuum it up later before my lovie gets home. Sit, eat, while they fix your watch.”
Shaking his head, locs dangling and charms clinking, he leads Hobie towards the dinner table where various plates of food are laid out, together with a familiar platter of chocolate chip cookies that just screams your recipe.
“My—” checking his wrist, he finds the interdimensional watch gone and in place of it is a blue bracelet that he has seen on visitors at the society. “Shit!”
“Calm down, it’s in good hands.” The prowler version of himself is now sitting on the living room floor together with the cherry Hobie, who are now tinkering with his watch. “What, you don’t trust yourself?”
“I trust myself but I don’t trust you, mate.” Knitting his brows, Hobie finds himself pushed down on the chair as a cold pint is shoved in his grasp.
“We all want you to go home. Trust me, I don’t want you stayin’ ‘ere any longer like these wankers.” The older Hobie says while looking over his shoulder at the cracked open bedroom door.
The dapper Hobie appears by his side at the dinner table, kneading at his shoulders with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Whispering against the shell of his ear like the devil at work. “Say, you have someone, right?”
“Yeah—”
“Oi, fairy, looks like you’re the odd one out again.”
“I will strangle you with my vines!” Vines slither out of his arms angrily, trying to lunge at the teasing Hobie. He’d be successful if not for the vampire holding him down with one hand whilst casually drinking.
“Calm down, Tinkerbell!” The suited Hobie fans the flames.
“That’ll work well in your favour.”
“Pissin’ off a mythical bein’, sounds ‘bout right for us.”
“I once fed a man to a gator.”
“We know, mate. And I bit a man’s throat open, we all have our traumas.”
“You’ll wake up my boy!” The older one steps in between them.
Their conversations fall in Hobie’s deaf ears the second he takes a sip of his beer. The cold drink is a cooling balm against his aching body as he sighs in content. The place might look the same as his home, but their beer definitely tastes better than the one from his world. As he munches on some cookies that are definitely your making, he looks around the houseboat, finding all the walls have empty spaces for picture frames that were clearly taken down based on the lighter shade of wallpaper that is in the shape of a frame.
Everything from the steady oak table and mismatched chairs is surely from his houseboat, but there are tiny details around that says differently. The kitchen cabinets are painted in lime green instead of soft blues that he’s used to. When he peeks inside the cracked open door of the bedroom, it has the same four poster bed, same wallpaper that he remembers you picking, and the same wardrobe. But he definitely doesn’t remember putting a baby crib in there with a homemade mobile circling atop it.
The older Hobie notices his gaze, chuckling and clasping his shoulder with the same comfort as one’s father would. “My youngest, you woke him up when you went through the portal, so be quiet, yeah?”
“You’ve got a kid?” He asks in wonderment. “I thought you were supposed to jus’ be...old?”
“No, well, kind of, I have kids with my girl. Three of the little buggers.” Fixing a plate, he gives him a generous amount of food that has Hobie immediately digging in. “Can’t tell ‘em their names though, or I might change the direction of where you’re headin’”
“What?” He asks mid chew as the father figure hands him a napkin, the others listen in, clearly trying to know the new bloke that managed to stumble upon them. The argument finally calmed enough in favour of listening.
“Y’know, like time travelin’” The other Spider-Man says as he carefully screws open the face of his watch, not elaborating any further even when Hobie’s expression wordlessly asks for it.
“Don’t you mean our kids?” The fae adds, glittering golden eyes flash with mirth.
“Don’t make it weird. I’ve got my limits, mate.” Groaning, dad Hobie shuts the bedroom door fully with an experienced aim with his webshooter.
“I’m hundreds of years old.” The being retorts back.
“You don’t act like it.”
“Wait, wait, do we all have the same bird?” Hobie interrupts the argument before it strikes a flame.
“Aye, we do.” The pirate version of him whips out a piece of parchment from his trousers, unfolding it to reveal an old timey portrait of you.
Hobie’s heart leaps in his chest, from your eyes down to the shape of your face, it’s clearly you.
“I know, that’s my scuttlebutt. ‘m guessin’ that she looks exactly like yours?”
“Aye, I mean, yeah.” Chuckling, he hands the picture back gingerly, as if the paper will crumble in his grasp.
“This one is mine,” vampire Hobie unlocks his phone and shows off his wallpaper of you in a coffin, pretending to be a corpse with a large grin on your pretty face. When Hobie raises a brow, the being clicks his tongue. “What? A thousand year old vampire can still learn technology.”
“It’s not that.”
There’s metal tapping against glass coming from the armchair. “This one’s mine.” The suited Hobie shows off his wedding band. “Is that enough proof?”
“You’re not actually married to her, bruv.” Prowler Hobie mumbles under his breath, fixated on the watch. Even then, he still manages to give him lip. “It’s a fake marriage, remember?”
“I don’t need a reminder, Barney.”
“Alright, enough, we’ve already gone over our time.” Dad Hobie checks his own watch, a plastic one with pink glitters on the watch face. “You two need to finish up before my girls get home. I have to put up the pictures and clean up.”
“No, no, slow down.” Fae Hobie says with a smile.
“Don’t make me throw you back inside your abode.”
“So we all end up with her?” Hobie utters softly amidst the group, a tender smile curling around the corner of his lips, eyes gentle, mirroring the others’ eyes from the mere mention of you. The thought of you being his soulmate crossed his mind a few times, but this supports that theory. You’re the one for him.
“Yeah,” the cowboy tips his hat at him. “Trust me when I say this, no matter the timeline, what universe we’re in, it’s always been her.” The whole room quiets down from his sweetened words, a hush falling around the room. Not a dangerous or awkward pause, but something sweeter and softer as Hobie could see it in their eyes that they’re reminiscing about you. “And it’s bloody amazin’, innit?”
When he doesn’t respond, Vampire Hobie steps forward, smiling softly as his fangs poke out from in between his lips. “Don’t tell me you find it borin’, Hobie.”
“No,” shaking his head, his eyes fall towards the plate of cookies. “I find it comfortin’.”
A grin spreads around the whole room, infectious as they all begin to chuckle. He guesses that they all agree.
“Couldn’t have said it better than myself.” Dad Hobie clasps his shoulder, smiling tenderly as he almost chokes on his words. “So, what’s your story, hm?” Sitting down beside Hobie, the rest follow behind, huddling around him, keen on listening.
“I think it’s less interestin’ than what you lot got goin’ on.”
“Try us.” With waiting gazes, Hobie gladly tells everyone his side of the universe as they all listen intently.
When the food and drinks are all gone, and the story is all finished, his newly fixed watch is done and dusted around his wrist. They stand in front of him, Spy Hobie leans against his fae counterpart, while Vampire Hobie snaps a photo of the newcomer.
“Jus’ like I said, you’re free to come back ‘ere, mate.” The silver fox utters, arms folded in front of him as he gives him a subtle smile. “Only if we have a meetin’ scheduled though. Don’t want you hoppin’ in my dimension while we’re havin’ our family dinner.”
“I won’t barge in next time.” Chortling, Hobie inputs his home dimension, checking it twice before pressing the button. He can’t risk falling into a different world again when he really just wants to come home to you.
“Get home safe, big man.” Fist bumping him, dad Hobie sends him off with an armful of tupperwares filled with food.
As Hobie nods, he can’t wait to tell you about the crazy day he had, especially with the bit of him finding out that you’re his love, and your soulmate in every universe where the two of you exist. As he steps into the glowing portal, the orange hues flicker off the second he gets in. But as the door closes, another opens.
The front door clicks open where you step through the doorway with a raised brow.
“Alright, which one of you is my husband?” You say with a smile, a hand on your hip as you meet with older Hobie’s eyes with a teasing glint.
“I wish I was your husband.” Fae Hobie mumbles under his breath, before getting yanked back by the older one of the group.
“Hi, love.” Older Hobie chuckles nervously while the others find the situation amusing. “The meetin’ kind of got away from us—”
Suddenly, the bathroom door creakily opens, and out comes Hobie with box dyed blonde and chopped hair, together with bright blue eyes.
“What’d I miss?” He says with an american accent.
You back away with a yelp, clutching your imaginary pearls with a shocked expression as if you were whiplashed by his presence. Your surprised hop was enough to have the whole room laughing.
—
“So you’re telling me that you already had dinner?” You ask as you stare at your Hobie like he grew three heads. He smells like your flowery soap, all clean and free of sand. He has a bandage over his cut, courtesy of you.
“Love, I jus’ told you that I met different versions of my self.” Sauntering close, he holds out his arms, embracing you as he cages you in between the kitchen counters and himself. “Including a vampire and a bloody pirate, and you’re more surprised at the fact that I already ate?”
Chin resting atop his clavicle, you flutter your lashes as you pout. “But I made carbonara, it’s your favourite.” Your thumb rubs along his windswept brow. “And we already know that there are different versions of us in other dimensions.”
“Yeah, but there’s a swashbucklin’ version of me out there somewhere.” Squeezing you, Hobie nuzzles the crook of your neck, nose brushing along your jaw line. “And you like vampires and ethereal blokes. They also said that there’s a venom me, can’t imagine meetin’ him.”
“I like you more than dusty old beings.” Cupping his cheek, you gently lift his head up to meet with his pout. “I’m sure that you’re the best out of all of them.” You whisper atop his lips, making him chase the kiss as you lean away with a giggle. Hobie resists the urge to carry you to bed “I’m a bit biased, but I know so.”
“I’ll still eat the carbonara, I made room for it.” He practically whines above your lips.
“You did?” Nosing his cheek, he sighs in content, he’s more tired than he thought he was. “It’s cool by the way, I’m glad you met some new friends at the Hobie tea party.”
“I learned somethin’ new today too, but I’ll tell you later after dinner.” Based on his tender gaze, you have a feeling on what it is, and you resist the urge to usher him to bed just to hear him say the words. Smiling and snorting, Hobie pecks your lips, tasting the pasta sauce on your lips when you most probably taste tested it beforehand. “Maybe you could have some sort of group with your variants.”
“Bold of you to assume that I don’t have one already.” A grin spreads across your lips as Hobie’s eyes widen. “Tell your spy version to man up and just confess to his missus.”
“What the fuck did he do?”
“He already knows.” Sending him a wink, you lean close to kiss his cheek. “I have my own gossip circle too. Please help me with the table, Gwen got the walnut bread I liked.” Hobie’s immediately grabbing the utensils with a lopsided smile.
