pls note that i block blogs that look like bots!!!!!
writing tag: #vhstown
★ NEWEST !!
happy birthday, hobie! (jun 30)
chocolate shaadee (feb 8)
malala windsor general headcanons (jan 8)
↓ open for about me, dni, etc... (last updated: 28 OCT 2024)
VEE — she/her, 7teen, uk desi
CURRENTLY WRITING FOR:
ATSV: 1610!miles, 42!miles, hobie & pavitr x gn!reader
about this particular blog:
my writing is kind of not that serious lol i just write for fun most of the time
i write very on and off if i disappear im probably fine just busy or unmotivated lol
many random posts they're all under #vee chats
text rants are under #vee rants but i also rant in tags a lot
this is a secondary blog, my spam/main is @vhscity
i mute my fics after a certain period of time so if you have a question or anything i didn't reply to feel free to send an ask!
writing tag is #vhstown
all my fic reblogs are under #vee recs
all my asks are under #vee answers
just don't:
basic dni criteria
dni if ur pro-israel, a proshipper and preferably if you're on s/h or e/d tumblr
i won't hesitate to block if u make me uncomfortable for whatever reason👍 no hard feelings
please don't interact in a suggestive or sexual way with me or any of my fics i will block you
will block if ur blog looks like a bot! (default blog look w no posts etc) please like change your pfp or something if you don't wanna get blocked by like most of the people on here
what i won't write:
heavy swearing + slurs
smut / heavily suggestive
age reg / related topics
pregnancy
mental / neurological disorders (i just don't know how to soz)
killing / death of reader
abuse
dark content
gore
non-human aus
also not writing fem or masc reader atm
interactions:
not taking requests but feel free to drop asks abt anything else
not super big about fandom discourse to be honest
i ignore chainmail / tag games
i take criticisms + feedback im learning yas
dm me if you so want to just pls don't spam me 💔
always looking for new writer mutuals ^^
be safe online and that 🙏
follow my bestie @qiuweyballs / @qiupachups !!! he's like never active but his art / writing is still cool lol
okay i’m gonna say it: fandoms are kinda dying on tumblr, and they’re starving because nobody reblogs anymore.
like… i don’t wanna be that person but be for real?? likes are cute and all but they do nothing for creators. ZERO. NADA. a reblog is literally the oxygen mask keeping this blue hellsite alive. you say you “love” a fic, an edit, a gifset? then BABES… reblog it. boost it. let it breathe.
half the time creators are out here pouring their entire soul, spine, AND three vertebrae into something just for it to get 200 likes and 3 reblogs, two of which are their own. that’s why people stop posting. that’s why fandoms feel empty. content doesn’t magically fall from the sky — it comes from people who feel seen.
and i promise you: reblogging is free. it costs you like 0.2 seconds and suddenly you’re personally responsible for keeping a whole fandom alive. congrats!! so yeah. if you like something? reblog it. scream in the tags. yell. keyboard smash. put sparkles. do whatever. just don’t let creators feel like they’re shouting into a void.
reblogs feed creators. reblogs keep fandoms thriving. reblogs literally save lives (okay maybe not literally but u get it).
support the creators you love !!!!!! or else we’re all gonna be sitting in empty tags like clowns.
i can't believe im still getting notes on my fics 😭😭😭 (thank u ily) i would write again but im in uni now and i only have time for like one hobby and i love drawing so 💔💔💔💔 but feel free to dm me and send me asks if you wanna talk about spiderverse and writing and whatnot ill take a look whenever i can ^^ im also fine w beta reading (as long as it's not suuuuper long)
i know i never post anything on here anymore but i just needed to let you know that i think that miles 42 has his hair in braids cause theres no hammerspace on earth 42 thank you and goodbye
Help my friend @shaimaahadaid !!! Her youngest child IIana, is in desperate need of treatment! She is sick with cancer!!! Her goal is $35,000 and she’s only at 5% of her goal!!!! Shaimaa has already lost a child due to the war, don’t let her lose another!
Hello, my name is Shaimaa Abu Hadaid.
I have been married for four and … Ema Aln needs your support for Help Save Ilana: Urgent Medi
Hello everyone, if you can please share and donate to the Shehab family’s campaign to support them through displacement and famine. Sahar, her family of eight (five of whom are children), and extended family (three are children) need funds to survive as food, water, formula and baby products become more and more scarce and expensive. All donations will go towards evacuation funds, and to help them recover afterwards and build towards a brighter future once more. Please keep this family in your hearts and minds, and show them your kindness through sharing and donating, thank you. @danashehab is one of the accounts for the family who contacted and asked me to make this post for them.
Tags below the cut, let me know if you’d rather be removed.
summary: It's Hobie's birthday! Or at least it's the day he told you was his birthday... Maybe it is, in a way.
content/warnings: angst if you squint, mentions of a fire, implied underage drinking, confession... no way... no freaking way...
word count: 1.9k
a/n: okay this was meant to be posted on my 18th birthday but i had a levels and they beat my ass BUT ITS OVER YAYYYY i miss writing... whos gonna wait for 2027 bruh im already here... okay enough rambling onto the fic YEAHHHHH thank you to @qiuweyballs for the proofread
"And why do I gotta have my eyes closed for this?"
"Cause you do. Now be quie—" Your hands over his eyes, he still managed to pull you to a halt, a lamp post just a moment away from being crashed into.
"You sure you haven't got your eyes closed too?" You could feel his sly smile form against your hands.
"You were peeking."
"Was not." Of course he wasn't. Stupid Spider sense or something. Whatever.
"Just... come on already!"
Ignoring his amused huff, you took his hand to start walking again. He'd already run late to your place from a midday scuffle with a few tree-borne cats, and now he was saving you from evil lamp posts. It didn't help that you felt yesterday's rain seep into your shoes as you traversed the puddle-filled street, but at the very least it wasn't raining today. If anything, today was nicer than most days — as nice as London could be at this time of year anyway.
"Something special, yeah?" he muttered, mirth still in his voice.
"You'll see!"
"No need to be mysterious. I can do that for you, love."
"Yuck?" A smile was pressed between your lips, despite your reaction. From the back of his throat emerged his typical chuckle, and you felt your face soften without you telling it to. Ridiculous.
Finally, you approached the door. "Tommy's" — you'd been here more times than you could count. Good food and drinks, questionable practices, and the man himself, Tommy. You weren't entirely sure of his last name, if he even had one. He hadn't been thrilled at the prospect of his pub being used for a birthday celebration, but after prying from all of his regulars, he'd finally grumbled "as long as you (Hobie) pay your bloody tab!" The hard part was getting things organised. Decorations, drinks, and cake. Oh god, the cake.
You knew the cake couldn't be too sweet, but it also couldn't be too plain, and big enough to be split between everyone. A lot of people had pitched in, though. Most people really did like Hobie, despite his antics. It made sense —even when he wasn't Spider-Man, he was helping people, making light of the dullest moments, and so incredibly observant it freaked you out sometimes. And you liked him too, if it hadn't been obvious to everybody except for you this past year you'd known him. Hell, maybe you even loved him, if that word had some more time to simmer — if you could figure out what on Earth "love" even meant with someone like Hobie.
So you'd show him. Just how much he was appreciated. Just how much of a Hobie-shaped hole he'd dug into your town.
The pub door creaked open, and you removed your hands as to not let him figure it out before he was meant to.
"Open your eyes," you whispered.
"Happy birthday!"
As soon as he did, a chorus rang out of maybe the worst happy birthday performance you'd heard in your life. You couldn't help but join in, hands clapping together, and it was your turn to smile smugly. You don't think you've ever seen him flustered like this, almost bug-eyed.
That'll show him, bastard, you thought, laughing quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck, before some of his friends had come up to tackle him in embraces and firm slaps on the back. You could make out Tommy's sigh as they ushered Hobie over to the tables, and you followed too, flashing the old pub owner a polite smile.
"Is that… meant to be my face?" You couldn't help but laugh — from what emotion you weren't sure — as Hobie looked at his rather spectacular(-ly rushed) cake. The effort was there, you supposed, if you squinted really hard.
"Nah, don't violate. I tried my best, yeah?" one of his friends said, while the others snickered and laughed along with you. You stepped aside, letting them mingle as you got to the little empty space used for performances, carefully tapping on the microphone.
"Let's get to it, then," you say, drawing the excited energy that had been bubbling around the room towards you. "I'll be hosting today's trivia, and I'm gonna be tough, alright?"
Everyone sat in their usual spots, getting on their usual gossip as pieces of cake were distributed around. The pub felt like itself again, spirits high and birthday cheer blooming around Hobie.
A tall, lanky barman snaked his way around the tables, before he got to the spot where Hobie and his friends sat. You saw as Hobie shot out of his seat to help, and so did his friends, despite the barman's protests. He looked just older than a teenager, but had exhaustion to rival someone much older. He'd also only started working here recently — quiet, but could get the whole pub laughing at the occasional rude patron with his sharp tongue.
"And that's for you, love," Hobie drawled as he put a plate on the empty chair beside you.
"Oh, what would I do without you?" You raised your eyebrows for effect, before Hobie pulled on your cheek lightly. Your hand jutted out for one last slap on his shoulder before he got away, snickering to himself for just a moment.
You should've picked up his expression, his glance at the bag resting at his hip just then, but—
"We doing trivia, aye?" someone hollered at you.
"Yeah, yeah. This isn't any ordinary trivia, though! How much do you know about our birthday boy?"
"Oh, thank you Spider-Man. You always know when to show up."
"No worries, Auntie. Everyone's out safe, yeah?"
"Yes, yes. I just did a headcount."
Hobie smiled, though the woman couldn't see it through his mask, so he nodded too. There'd been an electrical fire at F.E.A.S.T shelter, and while the building was mostly fine, they definitely needed some refurnishing. First power cuts, and now electrical fires — if only today could've just been a cat-saving day.
While May had been calm and reassuring as always, he could see the twinge of worry on her face, barely a shadow on her dark skin, but still enough for him to mirror it too. The shelter was struggling with capacity as it was, and now they had more problems to deal with. He'd just have to volunteer some more, look for more volunteers too, probably.
"Well I best be going, yeah?" he said, giving her a wave. "I've gotta steal more jobs from the police and that."
"Oh of course." The woman chuckled, the sound comforting as always. "You go ahead. God bless you."
Everything was fine now. Another day saved. That was, if he could get back to the party undetected. The familiar tap of your shoes was doing him no favours, though, as it got closer. Another day ruined.
"Now where did you run off— Hey!"
Pulling you into the nearest by-street, he sighed. "Hey yourself. Why're you out here for? You not hosting Hobie-themed trivia?
"I could ask you the same— oh, nevermind. It's fine. Don't even worry." Your words crumbled like the side of that cake, and you shrug. "Everybody's… fine, your friends covered for you. You're taking the longest piss of your life in there right now."
"Great." Another sigh. He shouldn't be the one sighing so much right now, should he? "I'm… sorry, yeah?"
"I know. I get it. We have this conversation, like—"
"Every single time. I know. Look."
Mask pulled off his face, he put a hand on your shoulder, before knocking his forehead gently against yours. Warm. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could fall asleep standing up.
"Yeah?" you asked quietly. "What?"
"…Forgot."
"Oh, piss off…" You pushed him away from you, but he could make out that little smile you were fighting. The change in your breath. He always could. Sometimes he wondered which one of you was really the spider. It seemed like you drew him further into your web with every little curve of your lips. Each smile was a fibre carefully wrapped around his being. Oi, I'm no poet, yeah? Come out of it. Stop.
"It's not my birthday."
"What?"
"It's not my—"
"I heard you the first time. The hell do you mean by that? Today's not your birthday? You told me—"
"You remember the day we met?"
"Why's that even…"
"That's today."
You paused, brows furrowing, before your eyes finally drew towards his.
"When is your actual birthday?" you asked quietly.
"I don't know."
"Isn't it like, registered? On an ID?"
"Dunno that either. And you know Tommy don't ask for IDs."
"Yeah but… you never thought to check?"
Yet another sigh escaped him, feeling like grit salt out of his throat.
"Why today?" you prodded again. "Why did you tell me it was today?"
Truthfully, he hadn't meant to tell you any date, but it was the first that had come to mind with your insistence. One of the few dates from his personal life that he could recall without another thought. The day you met. The day you swore that you couldn't stand him. Not the day he was born, but the day he… finally felt alive.
"You can't figure it out, smarty pants?" he managed, half a smile on his face. You frowned. Wonderful. "Don't give me that."
"You're not giving me anything. I just don't… get it."
"Maybe I'm not. Haven't exactly been clear with you, have I?"
He slipped off his glove, hand to your cheek, heat sinking into your already warming skin. Instead of grit salt in his throat, it was his heart, and suddenly his breath was funny.
"Reason why I don't say nothing is because it don't mean anything. I could tell you that I love you til my voice starts to scratch, and it wouldn't be sincere, you know?"
It was as if you weren't sure what expression to make, but your eyes were gleaming, catching the stray bits of sunlight that had made it past the tall, concrete buildings. In your web.
"The day I met you, I… I didn't see it back then. How much it would change me. How much what I fight for is just as much for me as it is everyone else." Another quiet sigh escaped him, less like grit salt and more like cool wind. "I can't explain that. It's like… certainty. What it means to actually live."
Silence. He didn't know this feeling would come back so soon, the heaviness in his chest.
"How do you do that?" you whispered. "Say everything I don't know how to like it's nothing? I'm gonna punch you, I swear—"
Hobie snickered, before bumping his nose against yours. "How about we stop talking, then?"
"Hate you," you managed to get out, before he muffled your lips with his. It wasn't the most romantic kiss, interjected with each of your laughs and protests and assertions. How you ended up from one wall of the by-street to the other you had no idea. But the feeling of it — it was almost like he didn't have to say all of that beforehand. Everything had been encapsulated into that one kiss. The entire past year, every glance and late night thought and playful shove. Love. If only "love" could live up to that.
"Happy birthday, Hobie" you mumbled, kissing the corner of his mouth just one more time. Drawing one more fibre of the web to a close, as you smiled.
"I appreciate it, bug."
"That trivia would've ended some of your friendships, by the way. Good thing you're still setting a world record in that bathroom."
"That is criminal."
"Come catch me then, Spider-Man."
HOOOOBIEEE how i've missed hobie bro i gotta start writing again ummm lemme know what u thought thank you for reading hit like and subscribe and smash that notification bell idk okay BYE BYE ...
summary: It's Hobie's birthday! Or at least it's the day he told you was his birthday... Maybe it is, in a way.
content/warnings: angst if you squint, mentions of a fire, implied underage drinking, confession... no way... no freaking way...
word count: 1.9k
a/n: okay this was meant to be posted on my 18th birthday but i had a levels and they beat my ass BUT ITS OVER YAYYYY i miss writing... whos gonna wait for 2027 bruh im already here... okay enough rambling onto the fic YEAHHHHH thank you to @qiuweyballs for the proofread
"And why do I gotta have my eyes closed for this?"
"Cause you do. Now be quie—" Your hands over his eyes, he still managed to pull you to a halt, a lamp post just a moment away from being crashed into.
"You sure you haven't got your eyes closed too?" You could feel his sly smile form against your hands.
"You were peeking."
"Was not." Of course he wasn't. Stupid Spider sense or something. Whatever.
"Just... come on already!"
Ignoring his amused huff, you took his hand to start walking again. He'd already run late to your place from a midday scuffle with a few tree-borne cats, and now he was saving you from evil lamp posts. It didn't help that you felt yesterday's rain seep into your shoes as you traversed the puddle-filled street, but at the very least it wasn't raining today. If anything, today was nicer than most days — as nice as London could be at this time of year anyway.
"Something special, yeah?" he muttered, mirth still in his voice.
"You'll see!"
"No need to be mysterious. I can do that for you, love."
"Yuck?" A smile was pressed between your lips, despite your reaction. From the back of his throat emerged his typical chuckle, and you felt your face soften without you telling it to. Ridiculous.
Finally, you approached the door. "Tommy's" — you'd been here more times than you could count. Good food and drinks, questionable practices, and the man himself, Tommy. You weren't entirely sure of his last name, if he even had one. He hadn't been thrilled at the prospect of his pub being used for a birthday celebration, but after prying from all of his regulars, he'd finally grumbled "as long as you (Hobie) pay your bloody tab!" The hard part was getting things organised. Decorations, drinks, and cake. Oh god, the cake.
You knew the cake couldn't be too sweet, but it also couldn't be too plain, and big enough to be split between everyone. A lot of people had pitched in, though. Most people really did like Hobie, despite his antics. It made sense —even when he wasn't Spider-Man, he was helping people, making light of the dullest moments, and so incredibly observant it freaked you out sometimes. And you liked him too, if it hadn't been obvious to everybody except for you this past year you'd known him. Hell, maybe you even loved him, if that word had some more time to simmer — if you could figure out what on Earth "love" even meant with someone like Hobie.
So you'd show him. Just how much he was appreciated. Just how much of a Hobie-shaped hole he'd dug into your town.
The pub door creaked open, and you removed your hands as to not let him figure it out before he was meant to.
"Open your eyes," you whispered.
"Happy birthday!"
As soon as he did, a chorus rang out of maybe the worst happy birthday performance you'd heard in your life. You couldn't help but join in, hands clapping together, and it was your turn to smile smugly. You don't think you've ever seen him flustered like this, almost bug-eyed.
That'll show him, bastard, you thought, laughing quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck, before some of his friends had come up to tackle him in embraces and firm slaps on the back. You could make out Tommy's sigh as they ushered Hobie over to the tables, and you followed too, flashing the old pub owner a polite smile.
"Is that… meant to be my face?" You couldn't help but laugh — from what emotion you weren't sure — as Hobie looked at his rather spectacular(-ly rushed) cake. The effort was there, you supposed, if you squinted really hard.
"Nah, don't violate. I tried my best, yeah?" one of his friends said, while the others snickered and laughed along with you. You stepped aside, letting them mingle as you got to the little empty space used for performances, carefully tapping on the microphone.
"Let's get to it, then," you say, drawing the excited energy that had been bubbling around the room towards you. "I'll be hosting today's trivia, and I'm gonna be tough, alright?"
Everyone sat in their usual spots, getting on their usual gossip as pieces of cake were distributed around. The pub felt like itself again, spirits high and birthday cheer blooming around Hobie.
A tall, lanky barman snaked his way around the tables, before he got to the spot where Hobie and his friends sat. You saw as Hobie shot out of his seat to help, and so did his friends, despite the barman's protests. He looked just older than a teenager, but had exhaustion to rival someone much older. He'd also only started working here recently — quiet, but could get the whole pub laughing at the occasional rude patron with his sharp tongue.
"And that's for you, love," Hobie drawled as he put a plate on the empty chair beside you.
"Oh, what would I do without you?" You raised your eyebrows for effect, before Hobie pulled on your cheek lightly. Your hand jutted out for one last slap on his shoulder before he got away, snickering to himself for just a moment.
You should've picked up his expression, his glance at the bag resting at his hip just then, but—
"We doing trivia, aye?" someone hollered at you.
"Yeah, yeah. This isn't any ordinary trivia, though! How much do you know about our birthday boy?"
"Oh, thank you Spider-Man. You always know when to show up."
"No worries, Auntie. Everyone's out safe, yeah?"
"Yes, yes. I just did a headcount."
Hobie smiled, though the woman couldn't see it through his mask, so he nodded too. There'd been an electrical fire at F.E.A.S.T shelter, and while the building was mostly fine, they definitely needed some refurnishing. First power cuts, and now electrical fires — if only today could've just been a cat-saving day.
While May had been calm and reassuring as always, he could see the twinge of worry on her face, barely a shadow on her dark skin, but still enough for him to mirror it too. The shelter was struggling with capacity as it was, and now they had more problems to deal with. He'd just have to volunteer some more, look for more volunteers too, probably.
"Well I best be going, yeah?" he said, giving her a wave. "I've gotta steal more jobs from the police and that."
"Oh of course." The woman chuckled, the sound comforting as always. "You go ahead. God bless you."
Everything was fine now. Another day saved. That was, if he could get back to the party undetected. The familiar tap of your shoes was doing him no favours, though, as it got closer. Another day ruined.
"Now where did you run off— Hey!"
Pulling you into the nearest by-street, he sighed. "Hey yourself. Why're you out here for? You not hosting Hobie-themed trivia?
"I could ask you the same— oh, nevermind. It's fine. Don't even worry." Your words crumbled like the side of that cake, and you shrug. "Everybody's… fine, your friends covered for you. You're taking the longest piss of your life in there right now."
"Great." Another sigh. He shouldn't be the one sighing so much right now, should he? "I'm… sorry, yeah?"
"I know. I get it. We have this conversation, like—"
"Every single time. I know. Look."
Mask pulled off his face, he put a hand on your shoulder, before knocking his forehead gently against yours. Warm. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could fall asleep standing up.
"Yeah?" you asked quietly. "What?"
"…Forgot."
"Oh, piss off…" You pushed him away from you, but he could make out that little smile you were fighting. The change in your breath. He always could. Sometimes he wondered which one of you was really the spider. It seemed like you drew him further into your web with every little curve of your lips. Each smile was a fibre carefully wrapped around his being. Oi, I'm no poet, yeah? Come out of it. Stop.
"It's not my birthday."
"What?"
"It's not my—"
"I heard you the first time. The hell do you mean by that? Today's not your birthday? You told me—"
"You remember the day we met?"
"Why's that even…"
"That's today."
You paused, brows furrowing, before your eyes finally drew towards his.
"When is your actual birthday?" you asked quietly.
"I don't know."
"Isn't it like, registered? On an ID?"
"Dunno that either. And you know Tommy don't ask for IDs."
"Yeah but… you never thought to check?"
Yet another sigh escaped him, feeling like grit salt out of his throat.
"Why today?" you prodded again. "Why did you tell me it was today?"
Truthfully, he hadn't meant to tell you any date, but it was the first that had come to mind with your insistence. One of the few dates from his personal life that he could recall without another thought. The day you met. The day you swore that you couldn't stand him. Not the day he was born, but the day he… finally felt alive.
"You can't figure it out, smarty pants?" he managed, half a smile on his face. You frowned. Wonderful. "Don't give me that."
"You're not giving me anything. I just don't… get it."
"Maybe I'm not. Haven't exactly been clear with you, have I?"
He slipped off his glove, hand to your cheek, heat sinking into your already warming skin. Instead of grit salt in his throat, it was his heart, and suddenly his breath was funny.
"Reason why I don't say nothing is because it don't mean anything. I could tell you that I love you til my voice starts to scratch, and it wouldn't be sincere, you know?"
It was as if you weren't sure what expression to make, but your eyes were gleaming, catching the stray bits of sunlight that had made it past the tall, concrete buildings. In your web.
"The day I met you, I… I didn't see it back then. How much it would change me. How much what I fight for is just as much for me as it is everyone else." Another quiet sigh escaped him, less like grit salt and more like cool wind. "I can't explain that. It's like… certainty. What it means to actually live."
Silence. He didn't know this feeling would come back so soon, the heaviness in his chest.
"How do you do that?" you whispered. "Say everything I don't know how to like it's nothing? I'm gonna punch you, I swear—"
Hobie snickered, before bumping his nose against yours. "How about we stop talking, then?"
"Hate you," you managed to get out, before he muffled your lips with his. It wasn't the most romantic kiss, interjected with each of your laughs and protests and assertions. How you ended up from one wall of the by-street to the other you had no idea. But the feeling of it — it was almost like he didn't have to say all of that beforehand. Everything had been encapsulated into that one kiss. The entire past year, every glance and late night thought and playful shove. Love. If only "love" could live up to that.
"Happy birthday, Hobie" you mumbled, kissing the corner of his mouth just one more time. Drawing one more fibre of the web to a close, as you smiled.
"I appreciate it, bug."
"That trivia would've ended some of your friendships, by the way. Good thing you're still setting a world record in that bathroom."
"That is criminal."
"Come catch me then, Spider-Man."
HOOOOBIEEE how i've missed hobie bro i gotta start writing again ummm lemme know what u thought thank you for reading hit like and subscribe and smash that notification bell idk okay BYE BYE ...