#Gwen Stacy x Oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blankdblank · 2 years

Text

The White Dove Pt 35 - Kanelbulle, the Menace and the Spanish Inquisition

... Masterlist ...

Still pushing through a rough week, but the fun story-wise continues. As always would love to hear what you might think of how the story is going or what you might think could be coming up around the corner. Sending warm wishes to your corners of the world and hope all is going well there.

Oh, and if you wouldn't mind would you consider this story crack fic? Been told that it's when things drift outside the realm of possibility, but it's for Marvel, anything can happen. So let me know what you think if it would qualify or not, I know a fair bit of my ideas can be out there but not sure if it measures up to that tag. Trying to make sure the story is tagged right so I might draw in more interest and possibly some feedback. :)

****....****

Thursday and Friday you had off, and after distraction days prior in the decathlon team meeting costumed and painted from the game with the half marching band uniformed team behind you into a sea of bodies at Columbia you led the way. For a puzzling sight your tigress self found your table to set up the project you had brought for this competition. Still after all you had done a lengthy description and stream of questions came from them on the several use smart watch like device that would help blind users or those hard of seeing, and possibly on a simpler area to translate things audibly into other languages.

Navigation, item descriptions by means of using installed scanning micro camera lens, text to speech also using scanner for item to translate, atmospheric changes to warn of weather trouble on its way to find cover and even a means of location to ping for help if an injury occurred paired with button alert if they found themselves unable to talk. Designs of what you couldn’t get to yet also had adaptations for those who could not speak or even those who are epileptic to warn of symptom of an impending seizure and alert for help. Several devices inspired at first by ways you had thought up possible gadgets to help Daredevil while Misique was on a mini exploration trip.

During the questioning that seemed to gain little ground, that had Eddie on the side with a second reporter who he bragged to on the project that wanted the scoop on. Having a legally blind sister he helped to look after, a new invention of a Queens local always seemed to draw in attention so this wouldn’t get pushed aside, the rest of your team accepted the offered tour of Dr Connor’s experiment.

A sneak peek of what the famed scientist was working on under the paycheck of Oscorp was stolen. Though irritatingly in second place you held a ridiculous melon sized crystal bull statue beside the gold statue wielding winner, who invented essentially a lego sized taser that could be marketed to parents of little kids for self protection, had you about ready to bash him over the head at the dangerous ways that could go wrong. But the military rep you knew fairly well was intrigued and surely greased the wheels mid judging.

All you could do was keep a straight face and wait until you could rejoin your group and brother’s side, focused only on how Michelle Jones had kept stealing looks Peter’s way as he rubbed the back of his neck mid conversation with Ned about a project table nearby. “I won the bull,” you said to Eddie in the beginnings of the talk with his fellow reporter to fill out your part of the story after his having spoken to everyone else, including the winner.

Isaiah curiously had been talking to another student himself but broke off to give you a side hug in pride to see that you at least were walking away with something for your hard work on top of the nightly ballet shows five times a week. Though focus on them wouldn’t last long as you had to head home and ready for the suddenly decided dinner with Eddie at the Stacy’s home.

“Hi,” you said with a grin to Mrs Stacy who grinned back at your emerald plaid sweater dress clad self.

“Hello, come on in, Pluto.” From the covered container in your hand she looked over your stockings that mid thigh were shown to be sheer then right above the knee were solid black to blend into your black heeled booties. The silver shorts seen under the skirt matched Eddie’s shirt he paired with black jeans and his nicer grey velour dress boots for this odd occasion as you lifted the container, “You brought food?”

“Kanelbulle,” you answered and caught her eye after a second look at the container, “Cinnamon buns. Gwen said you and Mr Stacy like cinnamon, it was this or Applekaka, which is Swedish apple cake, but she said your youngest has a thing with apples.”

“Yes, thank you, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

Eddie said, “It’s a family thing, always bring food. Plus we are working our way through this huge book on Scandinavian recipes we’re weeding out for allergies and, it has been a blast.” Smiling as they shook hands. “Eddie Brock, heard all about you.”

“Helen,” she answered and gestured her hand to the side, “Come on in.”

“Gwen, your girlfriend is here!” the younger blonde boy darting across the visible living room called out as his darker haired older brother chuckled darting after him to finish putting away their games they had out in the wait for dinner.

“Ya, stop staring at yourself in the mirror!” the latter called out audibly gaining a scoff and opened door for her to reply when they were in their shared hall of bedrooms.

“You know we’re-,” Gwen was heard by you in the shift of your eyes to her father who was adjusting the waistband of his pants having shut off the new version of footloose that had been playing then offered you his hand.

“The infamous Pluto. Nice to have a name with a face. Seen you around town past few years, and on the parade, part of why our Gwennie wanted to join the Color Guard. George.”

“Hi, I brought Kanelebulle.”

“Wow, never had that, can’t wait to try it. Hope you like branzino.” He said making you smirk at him.

“Fish markets were half a mile down the road from my old home. All my friends used to joke we’d have gills by twenty with how much fish we ate.” You said making him chuckle and release your hand to shake Eddie’s.

“Saw the Bugle’s bit on the Duckling. Gwennie’s been meaning to try that same shop, glad you two decided on Italian, they pulled five armed men out of that place, then not even a stone’s throw some of the Kingpin gang punks tossed dressed dummies off the bridge. Maniacs, had thirty calls they tossed two kids off the bridge, had the whole school in an uproar.”

“Dad,” Gwen grumbled and George looked between his freshly arrived daughter, dressed in the purple dress you’d helped her to pick while out shopping, reminding him to not get too into work talk making him grin at Eddie and let his hand go.

“But that’s work talk, we are here for dinner.” He said then asked, “Have you seen the new Footloose?”

“Warning, Bacon alert.” The blonde boy said on his way to help set the table as Mrs Stacy accepted hold of your container to add it to a plate all its own to go beside the mini tart desserts she had picked up to serve.

“Dad’s a fan of Kevin Bacon. We had a healthy discussion of the importance of Footloose earlier before we gave the new adaptation a try.”

“Isn’t that the one where he dances in that warehouse?” you asked and George looked to you curious of your meaning. “Saw that one when I was little, neighbors took to thinking they could fly after that scene, did not go well and several four year olds filled the medical offices for a good week after that.”

Slyly a smirk had spread across his lips and he answered, “Yes, one and the same, seen it since?”

“I have been working through the Tremors series actually, going backwards on his film credits.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with Footloose, let Gwen know when you get to it and we could do a marathon here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gwen said and gave her dad a pointed look.

“Ya dad, unspoken bonds don’t meet movie marathon with the family level,” her darker haired brother said and chuckled dodging her huff and pointed glare his way making their dad clear his throat.

“Food’s ready,” Helen said luring you all to the table where you were seated between Eddie and Mr Stacy opposite their three children with both parents on the ends.

Fixing his napkin across his lap to the presentation of the full fish dish served with veggies on each plate George looked your way as you unfolded your napkin, having settled your purse on the chair behind your back. “Call me old fashioned, but two months is an awful long time to be dating.” Eddie immediately stole a glance your way as you looked to Gwen, who was hushed in her try to poke her dad in the arm to stop, “What does my Gwennie bear have to show you she’s girlfriend material.”

“I am sorry,” she mouthed your way and you looked his way, blindly fixing the napkin to lay flat.

“Obviously she always has been, no need to prove that to anyone.”

And he gestured a hand your way saying to Gwen, “See, just like the website said, Swedes don’t date, you’re a couple.” If you weren’t locked between being polite and absolute bewilderment you would have felt bothered at the assumption without even having talked to Gwen about any steps towards courtship.

Conversation between the parents was guided to keep the evening going their opinion of well while Gwen tried to keep her awkward grin from splitting across her face. Rounds of the desserts were served as plates were cleared and swapped for a new set to hold the treats and George asked, “I gotta know, you know her, what’s Misique up to on this trip of hers?”

“Expanding more on the ocean floor,” his brows arched up and you said, “The continents are only about a third of the space taken up on the planet, there are no maps of the ocean floor except for around locations of old mine fields, or where Titanic and other ships rest. Even routes submarines travel we have no footage or proper maps beyond rough estimates based off sonar pings where rock features are.” His head nodded in thought and you said, “Think of it this way, Godzilla, thousands of miles down has ruins of an abandoned civilization where ancient people used to pay homage to him, like the Greeks or Asians with temples to their gods for protection.”

“Whoa, there’s a whole city down there?” he asked leaning in a bit.

“Exactly that, just like rumors of Atlantis. We’ve mapped so little of it and all the use for those maps have been to lay bombs for subs to crash into while we were at war or to hunt for lost treasure or the occasional ship or plane wreck. Plus I’ve seen pictures of his civilization and it is truly spectacular, there could be so much more down there.”

“What about great squids?” the youngest brother asked you making you look his way.

“She has found a few, and some more creatures of the deep not even named yet,”

You said making both the boys say, “Cool.”

“I take it that’s how you bonded, over animals?” He asked and you nodded.

“Amongst other things.”

A hug and stolen peck on the cheek was your goodbye from Gwen who hurried to go and hide when she was alone with her family again and you were in the hall waiting for the elevator Eddie hit the button to. Once inside he said, “You know, I thought I was the only one to get stuck in this situation.”

“Two months!” you said and asked him, “How have I been a couple for two months?!”

“Okay, we gotta track this back.” He said and you nodded, clearly grateful for the help in this. “Color Guard, she asked you for help so you stay late few times a week. That’s just helpful,” he said then led the way out when the doors opened on the lobby.

“What I thought, part of my team duties.”

“Exactly, coffee after though,” his head tilted to the side and you nodded.

“Borderline,” you agreed.

“Shopping, with a chaperone, could be a date?”

“Slim, but possible.”

“You talk,” he said when you left the building to walk on the street towards the spot where he parked his bike, having promised to take you to a film after the early supper. “Very respectable hours, you enforce good habits, time for studying, no late night up all hours chats. You don’t hold hands,” that had you lift a hand to point at him and he asked, “What?”

“Bridge night, I took her hand after the rainbow shop thing. I thought she was just scared, her heartbeat was wild so I didn’t let go. She kissed my cheek.” You said and at his bike you stopped to accept the helmet he took off the handlebar to give to you. “How do you just not tell someone you’re together? You have to mention it! Sometime! You do the old ‘oh we’re so cute together’ and,” you paused and in a wide eyed stare he was unable to stop himself from smirking.

“What clicked?”

“She asked me about my plans for babies, and where I wanted to live on the bridge.”

“Okay, that’s deep. That’s two months in talk, two months, so that’s got to be shopping day or one of the coffees at least.”

Adding the helmet you asked him, “Do I flirt? Have I been flirting with her all this time?”

“I think you’re being playful, which is different. But she is 14, I mean, that’s a rush of just crazy to be thrown at you, and you’re a 10, 15 if I use my biased scale. She was bound to fall eventually.”

“That’s not funny, I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I’m the older one, I’m supposed to know things. What if she’s gonna expect me to kiss her or something? I don’t even know if I’m just enjoying her company as friends, we just met. She’s 14, I’ve made it two years from that lone dating flub and I still have no idea how to date a 14 year old!”

“Let’s go see the movie, just um, obviously you’re not doing anything wrong, model girlfriend material especially for the parents. So, just keep it friendly, maybe offer an occasional hand hold, but pg should be safe, and if she has any issues she can bring it to the table. Or she’ll huff about it and you can bring up the issue of why she’s huffing and take it from there.”

You sighed and said in adding your helmet, “If I knew it was going to be an official couple meet the parents I would have brought a chocolate sticky cake, makes a better presentation and flavor combination.”

Scans from your bees had confirmed it, and behind the wide eyed Peter inside of Delmar’s Deli you tried to bring up a conversation in the brief time you had before your show tonight. His entire genetic code had evolved and after a couple days of being without his glasses you made him flinch once again in a try to gain his confidence to understand how he was faring. Clearly one of the spiders had gotten loose and Dr Connors was upset in having to breed another one to replace the initial test subject for those desired uses of its webbing and other bodily functions.

“More fun with Ned today?”

Right around his wide eyed self more hopped than pivoted to face you, now hearing again with his new senses an odd effect to your voice he hadn’t noticed before, as if it was layered to be subdued, as if it wasn’t just this frequency your voice could travel between adding to the honey dripped effect it gave your words. “Ned, no. Um, just, getting a sandwich. Why, what did you think we were up to something?”

“He’s your best friend,” you answered.

“Yes, he is,” Peter said and looked you over, curious about your stained t shirt, converse and jeans that had you shorter than usual without heels on to have him actually look slightly down at you instead of being even for a change. Delmar behind the counter smirked at another odd interaction between the two of you. “He has an appointment.”

“Very convenient. If you were more self conscious and this was a soap opera he’d have a second town and a second best friend hidden somewhere.”

“Oh he would not, he’s miserable with secrets.”

“Or so you think,” you said luring a curious smirk across his lips, “Could be the most marvelous cover you’ve ever seen.”

“Are you, relaxing? There’s a show tonight, right?”

“Yes, been printing off wall panels, have a few supporting beams I have to work into these slots within the wall, had to wiggle out the rest of the beams that were broken off inside the slots around the bite.”

“That, hard? To do?” he asked sheepishly, having like Ned been trying to work up the nerve to ask to see your ship sometime in person. Most of his free time lately had been to gather old computers or appliances to fix and fancy up for sale online and the ship along with your watch more reps were still stupidly ignoring the ingenuity of it work on that ship had him ultimately in awe. You were working on an actual space ship and by what you had recorded so far were having great success at it.

“Seeing as the wing joints shocked me and when I first touched the rudder control it bit me, I would say there’s some risk to it.” You said making him chuckle to himself.

“Need a hand?”

“Two would be useful, the beams are fifty pounds a piece.”

“That’s, is it supposed to be fifty pounds each?”

“After wiggling the remaining bits out I weighed them and measured the space on the bite, and scanning through where the beams would be on the other side of the hull to have exact measurements.”

That had him nod, “Weight of what’s missing compared to how much you have and it gives you fifty. Not bad. How many beams are there?”

“They’re half a foot apart, eight, to help support the panels. Then I have to layer that with a series of netting around the border of the torn metal to smooth and weld the rolled bits to it to make fitting the new pieces there smoother.”

“I wouldn’t have the first clue how to fix a boat. That is wild you know that.”

“What’s wild is the Escher like mast. It folds like gears in layers but expands and has thinner supporting woven patterns in between to lock it together. Can’t find trace of wires and it’s kind of like a magnetic force to lock them together when they’re expanded, but there’s no magnets.”

“Unless it’s like some alien metal that only bonds to itself?”

“Tried that. Unless it has something to do with the engine and its star engine core that maybe zaps it then after it bonds to itself once expanded.”

“Star core, so cool.” He said then turned for his turn to request food.

Not long after with food in hand he was able to circle the ship as you readied the beams. Sight of you moving them to the deck then you carrying each one to wiggle with down the space around the mast had him stand on the ship to ask, “Wouldn’t there be a hatch to get down there?”

“I’m certain there is, I just haven’t located it yet.”

“But, there’s a giant hole in the side of the ship. You could climb in there.”

Halfway down the space again with another beam you paused to look at him, weight supported by one palm on the deck, “Now that would be just rude. If you inexplicably grew a second belly button on your bicep I wouldn’t go sticking my finger in it. The hull will be patched one day when I get enough scale panels printed.”

Smirking to himself he watched you pop down then did himself to move the chair so he could reach as you moved all the beams beside the gaping hole. “Hey,” you said crouching to ease the final beam in place across your lap readying to lift it snapping his eyes right to your shadow encased nervous self. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle, “You’re letting me help you work on a space ship. Ask me anything.”

The two foot thick, half foot tall beam that stretched longer than the gap was lifted on one side to line it up with the opening groove for it along the wall of the hull, and you asked, “You’ve seen me with Gwen, do, we seem, couply?”

The other end of the beam was lifted on his raised palms to help with the alignment in making it level, “You are a couple.”

“I get that,” you said beginning to wiggle the subtly curved beam that just barely had enough space to get it to go deeper. “I’m ace, I don’t really get the whole hormone and, social dating scheme.”

“Oh,” he said and at the lock of the beam in place you both eyed the other side and he shifted to face the other way to begin to wiggle it back the other way, “Well you seem happy, both of you. Really a lot of girls have been sighing and complaining their boyfriends aren’t as understanding or give them as much support or space for free time.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing then. Hard to know, how I’m perceived outside of being odd.” You continued to wiggle the beam in to the liquid chalk line you measured to have it lined up as it should compared to the other side to by symmetrical.

“You know, we’re all odd ducks,” he said letting the beam go to move his arms at his sides as you readied the next one. “And besides, like that Dr Seuss quote, ‘You have to be odd, to be number one.’ Aunt May got me that on a poster when I was little. Or Alice in Wonderland, best people being mad and all that. Everyone who creates something has to be a bit odd.”

“You get a lot of motivational speeches don’t you?” you asked and he chuckled.

“That obvious?”

“Welcome to the boat Skipper. Eddie loves himself a good motivational quote of the day calendar, even got an app on his phone to have it pop up each day.” Up into the groove the next was wiggled to slide in to be wiggled the way back to the chalk lines, two more were added until Eddie in his return grinned in being a taller set of hands to help you finish the job off.

Rolled up the honeycomb metal netting was held by Eddie with heat resistant gloves so you could curve and arch it to weld, with the visor on as Peter finished off his meal the support around the edges of the hole. A break was taken to allow you to finish your meal as Eddie used the welding torch on a lower heat to warm the metal that had rolled outward the most to hammer as flat as possible against the netting.

After your food was gone scans of the partial scales that were already taken to see if they were lined up level to be able to take the layer above it to be added. A test that when Peter was gone you could come back later to manipulate the metal in it to lay flatter than Eddie was capable to work it; the hole with gaps between beams didn’t look much better.

But at least the support there showed progress that online in the comments would have mini explosions of glee at what you were capable of getting done in the small break you had today to get it done. Now with a backing there even ship builders knew that gradually if you wouldn’t have time for long sessions scales could be layered to keep progress to attain float and watertight status in no time.

While news of your show had put the gym trips on a sparser schedule the few times you did see him since apparently the confirmation of your relationship with Gwen, a certain billionaire’s son seemed to have something brewing inside that head of his now there was an official competition to your free time. Norman at least as Dr Connors was gaining ground on his research was pleasantly distracted from tries to poach any and all ideas possible from you in each time you spoke.

But halfway through November your main focus was to keep everything on an even keel to ensure you completed the obligated shows to the end of December to gain several thousands to sit on like a tiny dragon with a scaled down mighty hoard of savings. Until you had to spend it on school and other expenses to cover until you could legally play poker and gain some serious funds on the side. You just had to agree to have a study group with Harry this week to calm his worry on spare attentions all his own on top of gym trips.

‘Green Cackler Spotted’

Across headlines the arrival of a new villain in town above your heads in the streets that ran over the subway a battle was raging. One you bore no energy to pay no mind to as beside a pillar you stood nodding off in wait for the train to take you home. Others down here amongst the just swarm of masses, including those with children, escaping the waging battle above tried to distract said children and one another with small talk or stolen glances your way at one oblivious to muffled crashes, blasts and explosions. Somewhere between sleep and dreams bees kept sharing bits of what was around you a telling ring of metal across concrete had your eye crack.

Bomb, gold and green a triple beep warning to a boom split your eyes and had those around you group up with nowhere else to go. Up above, the yet to be named green menace, had thrown that and Captain America had knocked it away with his shield down here. Out of his way and right into yours. The golden shell split open and a telling scream of explosives had your eyes snap open, glittering yellow and around a pair of small children and the pillar you moved, hands glowing to cast a barrier and convert the energy of said blast.

Too fast to see the glow of the hatted and thickly coated body let them know of the name of who had prevented this disaster. But right in the heart of a smaller sort of mushroom blast they stood in silence watching the swirl of green get lost in the frenzied glittering yellow pulses of energy to burst not just here but all through the state subway system. Too much energy was left over and without thought over the surfaces of every subway center a thin layer of vibranium was spread, packed trains and rails alike stained in various colors. Enhancing the electrical system and adding guarding bee monitors and barriers to protect people in the future from danger of crimes and weather alike should it flood like it had two years ago.

The glow lingered and through the opening of the subway stations more bodies took it as a sign of safety or merely less danger than where they were at and raced there away from the Star Spangled Avenger and his backup. Out of the nearest exit to their damage a swarm of bees only enforced the fact of who was down there on its path to Black Widow’s back. Off her thigh when it warped to be a crude silhouette of Misique cast with projections to show your mask a handgun was pulled, aimed and fired dropping her jaw at what you had done. One shot, straight through Captain America’s back and out his chest lodged into the chest of the green menace dropping him off of his glider.

To a knee Cap dropped in a half twist to see who had shot him. Back to Nat the bees gave the gun, more dropping it in front of her with little care if she caught it or not. And his pained gaze scanned over the small swarm who pointed to the subway opening now growing dimmer to reveal the lingering wave of smoke pooling out of it from the explosion, speaking together an imitation of Misique’s voice, “There are children down there.” They split apart and faded in the stunned silence as the Avengers could see the people they had put in danger and buildings they had broken by means of ‘helping’ the city.

Down below long as you could you held consciousness. All the same, once that single gunshot was fired down to your sides your hands dropped and knees gave out to have your collapsing self be encased with all the bees forming the barrier. Every inch of you was covered, hat held on by their numbers down to the soles of your boots with bag bee coated and pressed to your belly.

Awkwardly on a shoulder you had landed to give off a sort of pop, the telling sound of that joint dislocating upon impact to your bees, and out of the stunned masses locked in silence a man split from his huddled group. The one with the girls you moved around. Off his back his rather expensive outer jacket was removed to be bunched and in a creep closer to ease the bee coated head up to slide the jacket under it. Buzzing and flicked wings of the bees nestling to cover every inch ensured by layer upon layer of them like a cocoon they would stand guard keeping watch over every body that would pass by until you could wake up and stumble home again. And just in case two wiggled down into your boot to hit the ping box to call for Eddie to come and find you or contact through Venom another Symbiote to do so.

Back atop his glider the menace pounced, blood spilling down his chest plate to soar his way down into the subway. Cackles to the crowds there would be recorded as his reaction to finding a bee encased body. Up into his arms he hoisted you up, having sent out an electrical type of pop rocks that fizzled and caused the arguing masses to halt their try to save you and just watch and wait until they could be told it was safe to come out. Out of the subway he flew, over the heads of the Avengers, granting only a glimpse when a few layers of the bees broke off the arm that fell into view flashing a couple rings Hawkeye recognized at once.

“That’s Pluto,” he muttered and shouldered his bow to race for the bike Cap had shown up on. Close behind War Machine thwarted drones and gas to try and keep on his tail while Stark, who was out of town, sent empty Iron Man suits to try and help the tracking. Only to lose sight of him beyond lower Brooklyn in a wonky wobbly path all over New York. Through the streets of Manhattan Clint was the closest, tracing any sign of bodies of passers by he could ask for sign of where the menace had gone to. Steve meanwhile by Nat was being hoisted up into and then out of a vehicle to carry him to Stark Tower to get medical attention for his punctured lung and severed artery.

Soft and low a grumble left your lips as you opened your eyes splitting the bees above you to coat the lounge you were on continuing their patrol as you brought out your phone. “Eddie,”

“Sis, what’s going on? Ping box went off and internet is saying Cap blew up the subway in uptown then got shot.”

“I was in the subway, I guess the Cap part is true, knocked a bomb down into the subway. I passed out but the hive says green menace took me,” up off your back you lifted painfully to look around the room only to stop at the giant portrait of Norman Osborn. “I’m in Osborn’s house. Menace left me here then took off.”

“I can have Phage and Shriek out there if you need them. I’m still out in Pennsylvania but I can fly back.”

“I can get home. Focus on your story. I’m just tired, got my hive.”

“You call me if you need anything at all.”

“I will. Text you when I get home.”

“Soon as I get home I’m killing that green bastard.” You hung up as he did, pocketing your phone to ease your tired legs off the lounge to force yourself upright. Airborne the bees formed groups to give you something to hold yourself up to get to the door. Quietly you eased the handle to crack it open enough to have a trio of bees scan the room in case the menace was out there. You needed something to eat, and you assumed Harry at least would be understanding if some food was used to be replaced later on, so to the kitchen you aimed yourself. Marble floors tried to give hint you were there in numb footed echoing steps to the next ornate wood paneling on pillars or door frames.

“What do you have?” you muttered and gathered a couple apples and found an unused container of cream cheese near to expiration you added and claimed the unused bagels surely bought at the same time far harder than they ought to be for enjoyment. A dagger from your waist when you set your bag on the counter was brought out so over a paper towel you tore from the roll near to the sink you cut the apples up then sheathed it again. The lid was removed and silver film pulled back to scoop the fruit in the topping for a hopeful burst of sugar to help power your legs to get the distance home. Around the apple slice you grumbled however as your phone rang again.

One handed it was brought out to read who disturbed your snack, “Hey, Lt Rhodes.” You said answering the call once you saw who it was. Wondering what he wanted from you as it was too coincidental to be something causal at this hour.

“Where are you right now?”

“Oddly enough, I’m in Norman Osborn’s house, stealing some of his food.” And before he could ask you say, “I woke up on the chaise, and I really don’t know much else.”

“Pluto I need you to stay put,” he tells the team, “She’s at Norman Osborn’s house, Misique must have dropped her there taking on the menace.”

The lights suddenly came on halting your chew of the next slice of apple you had coated in the topping. To the door your head snapped, where Harry froze seeing you in the sea of bee coated counters and cupboards, having woken up to news that the menace had stolen away with a woman from the subway. Into the phone after swallowing you said, “I’m gonna have to call you back,”

“Don’t you hang up! Pluto!”

“Pluto?” Harry asks curiously.

“I, um, I have the military on the phone, um,” you said making Harry smirk curiously.

“Pluto the tower has a helipad, right? Do you see one?”

And you shift the phone to ask, “There’s a helipad here right?”

“Yes,” he said moving closer.

“Yes,” you say then say to Harry, “Something happened in the subway, big explosion and some green guy picked me up and I woke up on your lounge, and am now stealing your food.”

That had him chuckle and say, “I’ll make you something better to eat than cream cheese,” he said smiling as he moved to the fridge. “Welcome here anytime.”

“Pluto we’ll be there in three minutes.” Rhodey said and you simply covered your face with a hand.

“Sure, just, sure.”

“You alright, did you hit your head?”

“I’m just really tired. Just got off work, Harry’s making me something to eat.”

“Good, we’re gonna get you fed and looked after and then back home don’t you worry.”

You lowered your phone muting it as you whispered, “I really wish they’d stop saying that.”

Harry chuckled asking, “Say what?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not worried, I’m tired fell asleep on the subway and got carried off by some green guy after the whole place exploded. I have nothing to be worried about.” You said making him chuckle again as you lifted the phone you un-muted to Rhodey’s next question.

A bacon and egg based so called ‘power smoothie’ he swore by was whipped up and pressed together as a helicopter was seen to be flying closer to the tower. In one go you downed the drink and settled the glass in the sink restraining a grimace while saying, “Thank you, Harry, and sorry, I’ll pay you back for the food.”

On your shoulders he rested his hands, trying not to notice the swollen shoulder internally he questioned, “Take as much food as you want here any time. Obviously we have more than enough.” His grin spread saying, “Next time go for the good stuff.” As you collected your purse and hat he said, “I’ll show you to the helipad.”

Rhodey beside the helicopter landed to watch you walk out of the double doors towards the two soldiers who climbed out of the door to help your notable self into the vehicle. The closer you got eyes settled on the swarm of bees that latched onto your bag, arms and back and into your braided hair to keep close to you. All of whom they moved to cover your front to crawl under your jacket so you could sit back against the seat, hands one at the door helped to keep you level on the way inside.

Off the ground it lifted to start the flight to the base where you built the Blackhowls. Over the radio Rhodey stated he was going to keep looking for the menace in one more sweep of New York and his usual haunts where he had been spotted. And the men on either side of you over the headset they put on your head kept you awake between the clear urge of your body to go to sleep as you kept nodding off.

“Okay, basic checkup, were you injured?” the Medic asked turning your head to the smear of blood down your arm.

“That’s not mine. Must be from the green guy.”

“Can we take your coat to swab that?” you nodded and grimaced in the shrug out of your arm parting lips on him and his Nurse seeing the bees across your chest and belly. “We got bees.” Shaking his head he looked to the SHIELD agent along the wall with hold of the leather jacket by the neck they handed over, “Menace blood is on the right sleeve. They’re gonna want that.” They hurried to call that in and make use of some sample kits to go over your jacket for traces of ways to track the menace in and out of his armor.

The Nurse asked, “You do know you’re covered with bees?”

“Yes, they’ll fade when I get home. They won’t hurt anyone.”

The Medic however in a shift around your back till he was back in front of you he eyed your shoulders and asked, “Does your shoulder hurt?”

“I think it’s dislocated. Felt too stiff earlier to pop back in when I woke up,” with warning he shifted the neck of your baggy sweater to see the clearly swollen shoulder.

“Let’s get your weight and we can finish the basic exam and get that popped back in for you.”

Even with the bees you could about feel their displeasure at you being 72 pounds hanging in the air and onto a reclined table you were moved to have your blood pressure checked same as your lungs and heart. Back onto your back you were helped and the bees moved to coat the wall so they could ready to check your arm. One hand rested on top of your shoulder as the Medic laid your arm over the top of his other arm, his eyes swept over you in the steady exhale you gave stirring a stunning limpness in your arm. Just a twitch of your brows together was the response to the snap of the shoulder back into socket. “This happen often?”

“Chaos follows me. Land on my left a good deal.” You said making him smirk to himself.

“I’m gonna rotate your arm and check your other arm before we move onto your legs.” A few times the Nurse had to tap your arm to stop you from nodding off. Eyes and head were checked next when he was sure your legs were fine, “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No, just tired. My night off. I have school, the shows I’m in, work,” into a raised fist you yawned and kept trying to keep awake with a few spare blinks. “I fell asleep in the subway and I woke up in Norman Osborn’s house with the bees. Not sure what happened.”

Lowly the Doctor chuckled to the Nurse stating, “Well you missed a doozy. Apparently Cap knocked a bomb into the subway, Misique was down there, she stopped the bomb and went up to shoot through Cap’s back to hit the menace. He fell off his glider but popped back on and flew down to grab you. Best we were told Misique’s chasing him down and dropped you at Osborn’s, do you know them well?”

“He says we’re friends.”

The Medic said, “That makes sense then. Why she dropped you there. Plenty of beds there I bet. And now off your jacket we have a blood sample to track him down.” Off your neck he asked, “Any issues lately on top of fatigue? You are severely underweight, I do want to talk about that as well. Just gonna check your bowel sounds,” he said removing his stethoscope from his neck to out on.

“I have a bad reaction to shellfish and other foods. Stomach is just in torment for days after, that and other foods, got a meal from a neighbor and it,” you sighed, “Took the wind out of my sails, that on top of a nasty bout of allergies I just couldn’t keep much in my system. I get sick and it seems I take twice as much in to have to get better again. Been getting better, my brother’s been helping me with five pound bags of tater tots and chili. I eat nine times a day, two big meals and small snacks so I’m not facing an eating disorder. I get that often, I just have to keep eating and I’ll gain that weight back easy.”

“Your parents have history of digestion issues?” he asked listening to your belly then moved to hang the stethoscope behind his neck again.

“Mom had Wilson’s Disease and Chorea,” you said parting his lips, “Dad had kidney disease. He said he used to get sick when he was little too, but we didn’t get into his full history. I would have to call Sweden and Norway for his medical records for more.”

“Well if there are issues like this frequently you might want to have a Doctor do more thorough tests on your digestive system. I’m gonna palpate your belly, tell me if anything hurts. And after this we’re gonna get you some tater tots and chili.”

Amusement of the large supply of tots was traded for the more worrisome sight of you hooked to a heart monitor atop a spare bed to get a nap until it was cleared for you to be taken home. Over the top of you like a blanket the bees coated you, buzzing in conversation while keeping Eddie up to date on progress of the task of returning you home.

Rhodey, upon arrival into the building he found the medic asking, “How’s Pluto?”

“For the most part intact, aside from a dislocated shoulder no injuries. Said she fell asleep on the subway and just woke up in Osborn’s house.”

“That’s good,” he said and let out a breath, “What else?”

“Other than the fact she’s 72lbs.”

Rhodey shook his head and let out a chuckle, “She says she eats nine times a day. I’ve seen her eat myself she’s like a tiny linebacker.”

“Well she said she had a bad reaction to something a neighbor gave her, and said allergies on top of that she just burned through all she was able to eat, and wasn’t able to keep much in her system. She’s small and under a great deal of stress, mentioned school, work, a show and I know she builds planes too. If there is any sign of digestive trouble or inability to keep weight on she needs deeper testing, said she doesn’t have a full history of her parents but her dad said he got sick as a kid like she did. We gave her tater tots and chili and she’s napping now. When is she gonna be able to go home? Apparently the bees won’t leave her till she gets there.”

Rhodey soaked all that in saying, “Misique does keep a good eye on her. Won’t be long now. Which room is she in?”

“End of the hall.” The medic nodded his head towards the barely lit room where Clint could be seen in the crack of light from the mostly shut door seated in a hunch forward watching the numbers and lines on the screen dance in odd patterns he couldn’t make sense of.

“Clint,” Rhodey said in his quiet step into the room. “Fury said her building has been cleared, we can take her home.”

“I think she’s having nightmares.” Again the numbers danced up to grow closer to a warning level that would set off an alarm that caused the bees on your chest and arms to spiral and together buzz in what seemed like a too fast to be believed ripple of light around their tiny legs and wings before your numbers leveled out. “They keep doing that.” You weren’t having nightmares however. They were ensuring you didn’t spark up as while you slept part of the hive was already tracing the pathway of the menace to show inside Oscorp a bloody Norman on the security footage dragging himself towards a gas chamber to burst out again cackling with a crude scar across his chest where you had shot him.

“The hive is talking,” you sighed causing the men to look at you, having assumed you were deep in sleep locking them in wonder on how to wake you safely from said nightmares. Opening your eyes you said, “Helping Misique track green guy down.” Off his seat Clint stood to help you sit up with your jacket on his shoulder.

“Jacket’s been cleaned off. When she finds him we’ll be able to lock him down for life.”

Rhodey said, “Heard you’re underweight. Stomach issues.”

“I feel better now I’ve eaten and with a nap. I have a sensitive stomach, after that clears it’s easy to bulk up again.”

Clint asked, “Glucose? One of my boys had that as a baby.”

“No, shellfish. And some other foods. Off results I’ve gotten I don’t fit all the signs to what illnesses I can find in medical books.”

“Either way, let’s get you home and we’ll be checking in on your stomach to make sure you are past your stomach issues. Gotta keep you in good health now.”

“Let me guess, your engineers are still afraid to blow themselves up working on my Blackhowls?” you asked making the duo smirk as you eased off the table and eased on the jacket to take hold of your bag and hat.

“The team likes to see you and you know it. Part of the team.”

Clint at the waiting truck asked you as he climbed in behind you, “So Misique’s back in town? For good this time?”

“Supply run. No sign of any more hidden bases, did find a giant golden statue buried in the sand a friend in Spain is going to help grease some wheels in getting inspectors for one of their museums.”

“I thought museums loved that sort of thing.”

“Well, when it comes to gold that’s another matter. Could just melt it down and pool it back into the economy. I mean the face looks like King Phillip, but that’s just my guess, and anything from that era seems to be alluring. And if they won’t take it I’m certain France would love to add to their museums.”

“Or you could just ask her for it.” Clint joked.

“I don’t feel so fondly about King Phillip to have a golden statue of him.”

“Think of it more as a college fund,” he said making you giggle to his second chuckle.

“Do have to admit seeing his face on the footage reminded me of that Monty Python skit, ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.’”

“Classic,” Rhodey said and they both chuckled now turning the conversation to the classic comedy team for the rest of the ride.

Pt 36

@devilishminx328. @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @jiminapickle

13 notes · View notes

cherryrainn · 5 months

Text

━━ ✧ 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; gwen stacy x brownwood palms (oc)

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; this story was commissioned.

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; physical injury, momentary unconsciousness, emotional struggle, multiverse crisis

─ ✩ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 ; @ophisoh

in the heart of the towering redwoods in northern coastal california, where the air is thick with the scent of pine, you'll find brownwood palms, known to most as woods. standing at a modest 5'5", or maybe 5'6" on a good day, woods is a vision of earthy charm. her spruce-colored curls cascade down to her shoulders, framing a face adorned with freckles that dance across her golden-brown skin like constellations.

woods moves through the forest with the grace of a creature native to the trees. her lean frame, neither too muscled nor too slender, tells the tale of an active lifestyle. she's at home in the redwoods, navigating the dense terrain with the ease of a creature adapted to its environment.

on her off days, you might find woods in the heart of the forest, enjoying the serene beauty that surrounds her. the calm, realistic demeanor she wears like a second skin is set aside for moments of relaxation and humor. she's serious when needed, but never a stranger to a well-timed joke.

now, imagine a brown-clad figure darting between the ancient redwoods, a fleeting blur that mimics the agility of the huntsman spider. this is hunting spider, or woods in her spider ‘persona’. her suit blends seamlessly with the forest hues, adorned with web-like gliders that trail down her arms.

so, today, as the sun begins its descent behind the ancient redwoods, casting a warm, amber glow across the forest floor, woods is in her element. she's perched on a massive branch, overlooking the serene landscape, a subtle breeze tousling her spruce curls. In this quiet moment, the rustling leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures form a natural symphony that resonates with her calm spirit.

lost in her thoughts, woods traces the patterns of the forest floor below. the tranquility is shattered by the distinctive beep of her communicator, tucked away in her brown-hued suit. It's a call from miguel o'hara, the leader of the spider-society, summoning her for whatever.

"brownwood palms," miguel's voice resonates, devoid of any playful banter. "a disturbance in the multiverse requires your unique skills. report to the rendezvous point immediately."

woods, ever the stoic warrior, nods in acknowledgment. "what's the situation?"

miguel's holographic image remains focused. "an anomaly. the fabric of reality is fraying, and you are needed to ensure it doesn't unravel completely. your partner for this mission is already waiting."

the portal shimmers into existence behind miguel, revealing gwen in her spider-woman attire. there's no need for introductions; these two spider-warriors are very acquainted. the unspoken history between them paints the air with an electrifying tension.

woods, alert and ready, glances at gwen. their eyes meet, and the connection is palpable. the forest seems to hold its breath, as if aware of the intricate dance about to unfold.

"ready?" gwen quips, her tone masking a hint of something deeper.

woods smirks, her response laden with a shared understanding. "always. what's the play this time?"

she shrugs, pushing off the tree. "reality's glitching or something. miguel said it's like a cosmic buffering issue. we're the tech support, i guess."

woods chuckles. "tech support with spider powers. how reassuring."

gwen smirks, her blue eyes scanning the strange landscape. "you know the drill. find the problem, fix it, try not to get squished by any dimension-hopping stuff."

woods nods, her expression serious. "got it.”

gwen smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. "time to add another anomaly to our collection," she remarks, reaching for the edges of her mask.

as she pulls the mask over her face. spider-woman is ready for action. woods watches with a hint of amusement as gwen tosses her head, settling the mask into place.

gwen glances back at woods. "you coming, or are you admiring the scenery?"

woods smirks, her own mask in hand. "just making sure we're not forgetting the essentials.”

she slips on her mask, the transformation completing the ensemble. the two exchange a nod, and without further ado, gwen takes the lead, striding confidently into the swirling portal. woods follows suit, their figures disappearing into the cosmic unknown.

hunting spider and spider-woman emerge from the portal into a surreal landscape that defies the laws of their familiar forested home. the anomaly is palpable, a distortion in the fabric of reality that sends ripples through the air. gwen, her suit contrasting against the bizarre surroundings, scans the area with a focused intensity.

woods, adapting quickly to the unfamiliar terrain, leaps from one floating platform to another, her agility and speed showcased in each fluid movement. the giant redwoods may be absent, but her skills, honed in the dense forest, serve her well.

gwen smirks. "looks like we've found our glitch in the matrix. time to get to work, woods."

they follow the anomaly's trail, navigating through floating islands and shifting landscapes. the air crackles with an otherworldly energy as they approach the source.

suddenly, the anomaly reveals itself—a monstrous entity composed of distorted fragments of different universes, a chaotic amalgamation. its presence distorts reality further, warping the environment around it.

gwen readies herself, eyes narrowing. "well, that's a visual."

woods, claws unsheathed, moves with a calculated precision. the anomaly lashes out, reality-bending tendrils reaching for them. gwen dodges with acrobatic finesse, her movements a dance between evasion and counterattack.

woods, mid-leap, shouts to gwen, "watch your six, gwen!" gwen responds with a quick nod, acknowledging the warning.

in a burst of speed, woods leaps onto a floating piece of debris, using her claws to anchor herself. with a swift motion, she propels herself towards the anomaly, striking with a flurry of punches and kicks. the anomaly recoils, momentarily disrupted by the assault.

gwen swings in with a well-timed quip, "nice moves, woods!" her webbing creating a makeshift shield as she maneuvers through the chaotic battlefield. the two spider-warriors coordinate seamlessly, each anticipating the other's moves.

despite their efforts, the anomaly adapts, its form shifting and regenerating. gwen presses the attack, her movements fluid and controlled. woods, using the environment to her advantage, darts between platforms, launching precise strikes.

in the midst of the skirmish, the anomaly unleashes a surge of energy, catching gwen off guard. she grits her teeth, holding her ground, but the force is overwhelming. a powerful shockwave knocks her back, and she tumbles, mask slightly askew.

woods, sensing gwen's vulnerability, springs into action. "gwen!" she shouts, intercepting the anomaly's next attack, claws flashing. the anomaly recoils, but not before delivering a powerful blow to gwen.

gwen staggers, mask now completely askew. woods glares at the anomaly, her six eyes focused and determined. she launches herself into a relentless assault, a whirlwind of agility and precision.

despite her efforts, the anomaly retaliates, delivering a blow that sends woods sprawling. the floating platforms shift beneath her, and she struggles to regain her footing.

with gwen incapacitated, woods channels her anger into the fight. the anomaly, sensing her heightened emotions, reacts with increased aggression. reality warps around them as woods dodges and weaves through the chaotic onslaught.

in a burst of determination, woods charges at the anomaly. her claws slash through the distorted fragments, creating a rift in its form. the anomaly roars, but woods doesn't relent. drawing on her agility and speed, she maneuvers around its attacks with a relentless focus.

as the fight reaches its crescendo, woods delivers a series of precise blows, exploiting the anomaly's vulnerabilities. the chaotic entity shudders, its once imposing form shrinking under the onslaught. with a final, powerful strike, woods knocks the anomaly into a diminished state.

seizing the opportunity, woods lunges forward and grabs hold of the shrunken anomaly. it pulses weakly, subdued by her ferocity. determined to secure the threat, she uses strands of her webbing to create makeshift restraints, binding the anomaly into a compact and manageable size.

with the anomaly under control, woods turns her attention to gwen. she gracefully swings over to where spider-woman lies, her mask askew and unconscious. gently, she hovers over gwen, her eyes narrowing with concern as she takes in the bruises and cuts on her friend's face.

for a moment, the stoic facade that Woods often wears falters. the worry is evident in her six eyes, and she carefully brushes a strand of gwen's hair away from her bruised cheek. the sight of gwen, vulnerable and battered, tugs at something deeper within woods.

"you really know how to put up a fight, don't you?" woods mutters, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she speaks to the unconscious gwen. despite the attempt at humor, the worry lingers in her voice.

with a sigh, woods straightens up, her six eyes scanning the surroundings. the surreal landscape remains, a testament to the chaos they just quelled. the subdued anomaly still hangs at her side, a silent reminder of the battle.

"but hey, we always make it out in one piece, right?"

as if expecting an answer, woods quirks an eyebrow at the unconscious spider-woman. it's a rare playful gesture, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere despite the lingering worry.

"you're not making it easy to keep an eye on you, you know?" woods continues, her tone softening. "but i wouldn't have it any other way."

as woods speaks those words, the air seems to shimmer, and a portal materializes nearby. miguel steps through, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. the other members of the spider-society follow suit, their eyes shifting between woods and the subdued anomaly slung over her shoulder.

"what happened out here?" miguel inquires, his gaze moving from woods to the unconscious gwen.

woods offers a brief explanation, detailing the anomaly and the intense battle that followed. as she speaks, the other members of the spider-society take note, their attention focused on the subdued entity and the unconscious spider-woman.

miguel nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. "we'll take it from here. let's get gwen help, and someone analyze that anomaly."

the spider-society members move efficiently, taking gwen and the anomaly into their care. woods watches them, her six eyes reflecting a mix of relief and lingering concern.

as the others carry gwen away, miguel turns to woods. "you did well out there. we'll handle things from here. take a moment to catch your breath."

woods nods appreciatively, her focus shifting back to the surreal landscape around them. the remnants of the battle are evident, but the immediate threat has been neutralized.

alone for a moment, woods reflects on the events that unfolded. the worry she felt for gwen, the intensity of the battle—they linger in the air. she takes a deep breath, the weight of the multiverse pressing on her shoulders.

with a determined expression, woods joins the spider-society as they prepare to return to their headquarters. the anomaly, now in their custody, dangles ominously as they step through the portal, leaving the surreal landscape behind.

a few days pass, and gwen finds herself in a makeshift hospital bed in hobie's universe. the atmosphere is filled with a hushed quiet, punctuated only by the occasional beeping of medical equipment. the bruising on her face has started to fade, but the visible signs of the recent battle remain.

as gwen lies there, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, a faint rustle draws her attention. the window creaks open, and a figure dressed in shades of brown gracefully slips into the room.

woods, having found her way to hobie's universe, stands by the window, her six eyes glinting with a mix of determination and concern.

"woods?" gwen's eyes widen with surprise as her friend makes her entrance. "what are you doing here?"

woods raises a finger to her lips with a playful smirk. "hey, gwen. just checking in. heard you were still rooming in hobie's dimension."

gwen chuckles softly, a hint of warmth in her gaze. "you could've used the door, you know."

woods grins. "where's the fun in that?"

gwen playfully rolls her eyes. "you're impossible, woods."

woods mock salutes. "guilty as charged."

their eyes meet, and a moment of quiet understanding passes between them. despite the hospital setting, a sense of comfort and camaraderie lingers in the air.

"how're you feeling?" woods asks, a genuine concern in her voice.

gwen shifts in the bed, wincing slightly. "been better. but hobie's been great. he insisted i continue to stay here for a bit."

woods nods, her eyes softening. "good call. you took a pretty rough hit back there."

gwen smirks. "yeah, well, not every dayi get smacked by a reality-bending anomaly."

woods chuckles. "true enough. anyway, i got you a little something.” she reveals a small, delicate flower, its petals a vibrant burst of color. gwen's eyes light up with surprise and gratitude. "woods, you didn't have to..."

she shrugs. "just a little something from my dimension. thought it might brighten up this place."

gwen takes the flower, marveling at its beauty. "it's… perfect. thanks, woods."

woods gives her a soft smile. "well, i figured you could use a touch of the redwoods' beauty. plus, it matches your aesthetic."

gwen laughs softly, a blush dusting her cheeks. "you really put thought into this, huh?"

woods scratches the back of her head, a bashful smile crossing her lips for once. "maybe a little. i mean, you've been through a lot, and i thought a pretty flower might make you feel better." gwen gazes at the flower, a warmth spreading through her chest.

"it does more than that. it brightens up my whole day. and you... you always seem to know how to make me smile."

woods shifts her weight, a subtle nervous energy in the air. "well, you're worth it, gwen. i mean, who wouldn't wanna see you smile?"

gwen's smile widens, and she gently nudges woods with her shoulder. "you're such a dork, woods."

she feigns offense. "hey… it’s part of my charm."

they share a playful moment, their laughter filling the hospital room. the flower sits in a small vase by gwen's bedside, a vibrant burst of color against the sterile surroundings.

as the laughter subsides, a comfortable silence falls between them. woods leans against the window sill, her gaze softening as she looks at gwen.

"you know," woods begins, her voice quieter, "i was really worried when i saw you go down back there. it's... it's not easy seeing someone you care about in danger."

gwen meets woods' gaze, the sincerity in her friend's eyes unmistakable. "i know, woods. but i don’t know what i would’ve done if you weren’t there. thanks.”

woods smiles softly, a mixture of gratitude and affection in her eyes. "you don't have to thank me. we're a team, right? saving each other is just what we do."

gwen nods, her expression reflecting the depth of their connection. "yeah, but it's more than that, woods. you being there, risking everything... it means a lot to me." woods' gaze lingers on gwen, a warmth spreading through her.

"well, what kind of friend would i be if i let anything happen to you?"

the word "friend" hangs in the air, carrying a weight that goes beyond the ordinary.

gwen reaches out, gently squeezing woods' hand. "friend, huh? i don’t know… i appreciate you more than words can say."

woods' eyes widen slightly, a subtle surprise in her expression. the air between them shifts, and the unspoken connection takes on a new layer of meaning.

"yeah... yeah me too," woods admits, her voice carrying a sincerity that goes beyond friendship. "i care about you more than words can explain."

the vulnerability in woods' admission is met with a tender smile from gwen. "well, you're stuck with me, then. friends, something more, whatever it is, I'm glad you're here."

woods smirks playfully, her gaze softening. "wouldn't have it any other way, spider-woman."

as they share a moment of quiet understanding, the small hospital room feels filled with something intangible yet powerful—the blossoming of a connection that transcends the boundaries of friendship and hints at the possibility of something more.

#SPIDERVERSE #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse oc #gwen stacy #across the spider verse #atsv #gwen stacy atsv #gwen stacy x oc #fluff #writing commission #commission

1 note · View note

starlitszn · 9 months

Text

everyday i just stare at this draft (in my wp) and sigh. like i am in love w the plot and everything and i've pretty much planned it all out but as soon as it comes to writing it i'm like nah ❌️ nope ❌️ not for me ❌️

like it's actually a problem at this point 🫤 my drafts are practically overflowing with fic ideas and stuff like i have another black cat oc x gwen one and i am sooo obsessed but will i ever write for it? hell no 😭

anyways i'm putting this here even if no one will even see it bc i just need it to be seen by at least someone without me actually having to write it or anything ??? idk that makes no sense but whatever

#idk #gwen stacy #into the spiderverse #itsv #atsv #across the spiderverse #ghost spider #spider gwen #spiderwoman #gwen stacy fic #gwen stacy x oc #gwen stacy itsv #gwen stacy atsv #fic idea #fic draft #i need motivation #i love gwen stacy sm it's actually insane #gwen stacy is the loml #marry me gwen stacy challenge 1 2 3 go!!

1 note · View note

daydreamvalley · 10 months

Text

Miguel O’Hara reimagined in my mind

4K notes · View notes

vrisrezis · 11 months

Text

Atsv characters realizing they’re in love with you

Gwens on the verge of tears, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her like this in all the time you’ve known her. You’ve known gwen for almost your entire life, and never once have you ever seen her in such a state of affairs.

You suppose it’s reasonable, she lost Peter and she thinks she lost her father forever, the only other people she ever had. And then there’s you. Somebody she felt such deep emotions for even if she was unaware how deep they ran.

There’s so many emotions and so many thoughts running through her head, when she sees you for the first time in what feels like years.

You don’t say anything.

You stare at her, the state she’s in.

Your movements are slow and meticulous, calculated. And she wonders if you’re doing that because you’re cautious, because you’re scared of her.

“I don’t know what dad told you.” fear drips from her vocal cords, “but I promise you,” she’s desperate, wanting your touch so badly but fearing you truly saw her as a monster too, “I would never, ever, kill Peter.”

the building you’re both on, feels so much darker than it really is. It feels like she’s revealing herself to her dad for the first time all over again. She wants to cave in on herself but she fights every need to push you away because she needs you in her life.

“And believe me, I wanted to tell you! I did! I really did!” she tries desperately to explain, finally letting a tear slip out.

As soon as she let one go, it became a waterfall of tears.

“I love you.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, taking you both by surprise.

She realizes what she said, but she doesn’t dwell on it for much longer. Because she realizes, finally, what she said was true.

And now that she finally knows what it is she’s truly been feeling for you all these years, it hurts even more to look at you and not know what you could possibly think about her. She wishes she knew what was going through your head, she wishes she could just tell what you were feeling by searching your face but she just can’t find anything. She doesn’t know what you make of this. She doesn’t know if she’s going to lose you today.

“Please.” she feels her lips wobble, she knows she’s going to completely break down if you don’t say something, anything, in the next minute.

All she’s met with is more silence.

Miles knew he had a crush on you, sure. That simply made sense, it was common knowledge to anyone that wasn’t an idiot. Well, except you. But miles didn’t think you were an idiot, just maybe oblivious. It’s not like he minded, he was grateful that he liked the one, singular person in this very world that was oblivious enough to not catch onto Miles’s adoration for you.

Miles talked about you a lot, admittedly. His parents were naturally happy he had found an actual friend that wasn’t away, that wasn’t ganke, and that clearly made him so happy. In fact, Rio mentions how she’s never seen her son so happy to talk about somebody. She had teased him a few times, and although miles tried to deny it, both her and Jeff knew he liked you a little bit more than a friend should. Though, a little bit is a stretch. He liked you a LOT more than a friend should.

And man, when you finally met them. Ohhh boy.

Miles had tried to prevent it for so long, in fear his parents would embarrass him, even worse if they didn’t like you. But he had been delaying the inevitable long enough, and the time had finally came.

In the past, Rio had teased him about being in love. Of course, miles denied the fact. He had a crush sure, but love? That’s a lot, isn’t it?

But seeing you interact with his parents, getting along with them so well. Even with his dad?

He just can’t stop staring, and while normally Rio would be concerned, she simply walks over to her son with a knowing smile.

“I think Im in love.”

“I know, mijo”

Hobie had a rough day, to say the least. Being spiderpunk, spiderman, was tough. And as much as he complained about it, he was perfectly content with the way he went on living. Especially since it had given him the power to protect you, and fight for his beliefs.

But regardless it was sometimes a painful experience, being spiderman. The gash on his side wasn’t too huge, but was deep enough to cause him pain anytime he walked. Swinging around wasn’t much better.

He decided to swing by your place, since it was closer to him and while he hated the idea of bothering you while he was in this state, hated the idea of worrying you, he knew it was the best option if he wanted to get back to fighting as quick and as painless as possible.

He lets himself in through the window, as always. He walks over to your hunched over form at your desk, peeking over. “Biochem?” he asked aloud, and you, unbothered, simply nod. “Yknow you should really start locking the window sweets.” he says with a grin, and while you’d normally be annoyed by his remarks, you notice a strain in his voice that makes you look up at him.

You’re quick to stand up, “hobie! Jesus what happened to you!?” you said, ushering him into your bathroom so that you can get your first aid kit.

He sits down on the toilet, before shrugging. “Stuff..”

you’ve fixed him up before, but this was a little different. There was a change in your demeanor. It wasn’t out of this world for you to worry for him, but this felt vastly different this time around.

You were so kind, so gentle with him.

In his mind, he’s undeserving.

The warmth of your hands on him, was the only thing he could think about. Not even the pain of literally being stabbed could compare to how electrifying your touch felt.

Perhaps it was the blue led lighting in your bathroom or the loss of blood but, you looked so beautiful right now.

“I think I love you.” he whispers quietly, staring into your eyes.

Staring back, you can’t help but think you love this idiot too.

Pavitr is an idiot when it comes to romance, whether he likes to act like he’s good at it or not. He is not as smooth as he pretends to be. He realizes this anytime he tries to shoot his shot at you. He fumbles with his words and has to come up with some excuse as to why he needs to leave in that exact moment, immediately. Even pretending to flirt with his best friend, gayatri, doesn’t work. He does it so well with her, but when it comes to you he just cannot articulate his words. He finds himself totally lost.

It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out his feelings for you are strong, and that his feelings go deeper beyond friendship. You seem to be the only moron in all of mumbattan that hasn’t noticed, and he’s not sure if he’s grateful or in great agony.

One of the biggest reasons he was so obvious about how he liked you, was shown through how clingy he was. Physical affection is his love language, after all. But it goes beyond that, he always finds himself wanting to spend time with you. He even insists on walking you home even when his house is in the opposite direction, his excuse being that he wants you to get home safely despite being in broad daylight. It’s still a dangerous world out there, is his reasoning.

But it’s been so long since he last walked you home. When you were kids, he did it all the time. As you grew older, the tradition seemed to stick but as he became spiderman this occurrence became less frequent. It’s been months since he’s been able to do this.

The sun is bright, but it hits your face perfectly. And he can’t help but think you look like some ethereal god. Given his line of work, he doesn’t think it would be that weird if you were one.

He feels like he can’t breathe, and he doesn’t even realize its cause he’s way too focused on you, every little feature. Your hair, eyes, your nose, cheeks, mouth. Anything he could possibly look at on your face, he’s looking. He’s not listening to a word you’re saying, he watches your lips move but he cannot catch a damn thing. The grip he has on his bookbag becomes tighter, his face feels hot and he wants to say it’s because of the sun but he knows that’s not true. God, has your laugh always been so pleasant to the human ears? Or was that just him?

His lips move, before he even has a chance to stop the words from coming out, like word vomit.

“God I love you”

4K notes · View notes

qirarey123 · 6 months

Text

Finally made a proper character sheet for my spidersona 🩰💖

2K notes · View notes

pleaktale · 10 days

Text

(old) sketchbook pages d(^-^)

Melissa is my oc!

#hobie brown #spider punk #across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie spiderverse #drawing #astv miles #earth42 miles morales #miles morales #earth42 miles #bleak's drawings #oc x canon #into the spider verse #itsv #spiderverse fanart #sketchbook #sketches #gwen stacy #spider gwen

709 notes · View notes

starz-mind · 8 months

Text

YIPPEE!!

Some self indulgent ghostflower to end my summer 🫶💚

3K notes · View notes

tonixe · 10 months

Text

POV: SPIDERVERSE CHARACTERS DOING THE GRIMACE SHAKE TREND

n.o.t.e.s - I'm just really bored and thought of this.

w.a.r.n - crackfic, fluff, and reader being a menace.

p.a.i.ri.n.g - various!spider-verse characters x reader

w.c. - 346

Gwen Stacy

☆ She thought of the trend as funny and thought it was kinda creepy. She would definitely be interested in doing the trend with you.

☆ When you did the trend first, she thought it was creepy like you first did it as a prank, but she was really scared she lost you.

☆ I feel like you would both do the trend on miles to scare him.

Hobie Brown

☆ He would think of the trend as funny. Lowkey would be down to do with you.

☆ When he first saw you doing the trend, he thought it was weird.

☆ He would love to prank Pavitr with this trend.

Miles Morales

☆ Miles would be scared of this together; he probably hates the trend of how creepy it is.

☆ When he first saw you doing it, he was scared, like shaking that he had lost you, just like a picture of you running to him, just saying it's a prank, while you were literally covered in the purple milkshake.

☆ He would do the trend with you, but with expecting, he doesn't have to get covered with the milkshake.

Pavitr Prabhakar

☆ I feel bad for him like he would be petrified to see literally on the floor covered in the liquid.

☆ I feel just like what you did to Miles; you would just pause everything and run to him, just trying to comfort him, apologizing to him repeatedly.

☆ This poor bb, he would do the trend with you, but you gotta beg him.

Miguel O'hara

☆ He thinks of the trend as just plain weird, like, why would you make a video of you spasming on the floor for views.

☆ When he first saw you did the trend, he was horrified that you were literally passed out on the floor, convulsing on the floor. You would just say it was just a prank; he would likely be pissed off at you for doing it.

☆ No, he wouldn't do the trend with you; he is just too srs.

943 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 2 years

Text

The White Dove Pt 32 - Pie of Death

Have the back end of this series planned out, still no final chapter number yet, but the fun and drama saga continues. Did seem to get a kick of interest on ao3 by adding a doomed pairing with Gwen there over just found family and sibling bond with Eddie Brock and Venom. And this is where the doomed tag kicks in so those looking for a pairing to kick in here ya go.

Always let me know if you want to be added or removed from tag lists. :)

The White Dove Masterlist

*.*.*

Grant Ward really wasn’t of any consequence at all to Hydra and where he failed as a double agent upon trying to interfere with your life ten more could easily be promoted within SHIELD to take his place.

No, what you wanted to do was stir the hornet’s nest. You knew if they found the right Siberian base the assets there would be annihilated to prevent your turning any more of them and any devices and trace of paperwork found would be an encrypted dead end to nowhere. But this was trouble, not SHIELD investigating but you interfering, and if you stirred up enough of it then they would unveil their only assumed weapon against you. They would have to do what they didn’t want to do, let him loose.

Bucky Barnes was the last and finest weapon in their arsenal but he came with a string attached, if they unleashed him you could turn him too and then where would they be? He was their finest unmatched weapon to rival Captain America to turn the tides of the world living in shadows and without him they knew against you both they were sitting ducks. So they would hold out as long as they could and keep him hidden until the moment was right to send him after you, hopefully mind wiped enough to not recall his most prized pupil. They would hold out and you would keep turning up the heat until you’d find yourself at that bridge with him on the other side of it to find out how that meeting was set to go.

“Come on Star Boy,” you muttered to yourself in the snow littered moonlit walk to the subway on your way home after closing up the book shop. Using the nickname he had chosen for you to use as a means to taunt him in training to help distinguish time with him on missions and when you were aimed against one another. Lost to trickling memories of those times in between missions where you him and Cooper were almost contently in a cordial sense of ease together as a team. All now mingled with questions of how that ease might have come from lurking memories from him on the meeting before that with Chickadee. And you simply hoped his release would be sooner rather than later, if not for your sakes than for the family awaiting news on him.

“Never strike first,” his voice echoed in your ears with wrapped fist raised blended with countless lessons to break your habit of flinching, “Watch me. Avert, then use their force against them. Do not strike first, watch always. Let them think you don’t stand a chance.”

Rapidly in a mumble beside you after slipping there between classes Peter asked, “You care to study?” For an hour now you had been thwarting questions and comments from more popular students on the evening out and when you looked at the teen now clearing his throat he clarified in the scan of his eyes over the hall, reminding you of animated men who sell wares inside of a trench coat. “Having a study, thing, at my place.” And he added, “Tonight.”

“Okay.”

To the note in his raised hand your eyes shifted in collecting it from him then up again as he released it to mumble, “Aunt’s making quesadillas,” then stepped away to flow back into the crowd.

The narrow of your eyes had a snicker sound a few feet away luring your eyes to Michelle Jones from your decathlon team who shut her locker and came closer to you, “That was smoother than how he asked me,” she pointed to the note, “His address, if you didn’t catch it. Haven’t got a tally but I can guess Flash isn’t invited.”

“I wouldn’t welcome him to my home if he called me penis either,” you said making her chuckle to the joint slip away to head to your classes.

“Is it customary to bring food to study groups where food is mentioned?” you asked Ned, who you assumed to be invited as well being Peter’s best friend.

His lips parted releasing a soft crack followed by his answer, “For Peter’s tonight?” to your nod he said, “You don’t have to. His aunt sort of takes it as a challenge and cooks more.”

“Okay, thank you,” and after a moment of awkward pause you turned to head to your next class so he could grin to himself and go share with Peter your question at their next shared class.

“Working today?” You were asked by the wide eyed Gwen on your way past the library in the shared walk to classes across one another in a distant hall. Her having popped up out of nowhere just how Peter had, and no less nervous, making you curious on what she would be expecting of you.

“Not till after sunset.”

She nodded and asked, “Coffee, again?”

“I got asked to a study group,” you answered causing her grin to flinch to a momentary pout.

“Oh.”

“I have hair and nail appointments tomorrow and I was going to drop by some shops,” sharply she gasped and you looked up at her and her spreading smile mid bounce on her feet.

“Oh that sounds like fun, and you go right after practice?”

“When I’ve dropped off my bags or I tend to bump into things, and the salons like as little clutter as possible.”

“Cool,” she said then asked, “You live close by? I mean, you go here, you must live nearby. Is it nice, your place?”

“It’s all mainly just one room but it suits my needs. Bet your place is nice.”

“Mom likes it, we have white walls,” she said with a head tilt to the side, “I’d prefer more color but she lets me tack up a few posters.”

“I have wallpaper with stick on magnet strips, almost had a row with my landlord when he first saw it but he calmed down seeing it could be removed without scarring the walls.”

“Okay, I’ll walk with you after practice, it’s a date,” she said excitedly then backtracked, “Or, not a date, but a plan, right,” and with a nod and smile she turned to walk off. All you could do was to turn down the same way to head to your close classrooms and now mentally come to terms your alone pampering time was now spoiled. But you hoped that perhaps in the means of making a new friend sacrificing one would be a tolerable exchange. However if this was going to become a pattern than things would have to be assessed to find a new time to be alone without holing up inside your apartment. Maybe like the aquarium or new astronomy tower that advertised half off days now. Surely it’d be crowded, but at least then you could vanish in numbers while enjoying yourself in discovery of new or at least interesting things.

“Then we have to head to this museum and make a report on it,” Ned said glancing your way as Harry cut in.

“You been to the new exhibit yet? We could go together, make a day of it.” Harry asked and you lowered your drink.

“Kind of a busy week,” you answered and suggested about Ned and Peter, “Maybe they might like to make a day of it. Could help you brainstorm your papers.”

Peter nodded and said, “Groups do sound more fun.” The trio came gradually to an agreement on the plan of their outing. And for the rest of your time in Midtown you kept your mind mainly locked on tasks to complete until again in the open air you were freed to return to Columbia for the tests you were due to take there.

“Seventh floor,” you sighed and took a step at a time, finding halfway Flash who was taking a break to catch his breath. “Didn’t know you were invited Franklin.”

For the fifth time this week you had called him by a name other than his chosen moniker and promptly his head turned for him to say, “Can’t have a Decathlon study group without the best on the team. Parker’s trying to best me he’ll have to work twice as hard to keep me from finding out about a party.” His eyes dropped to the pie resting on your palm, “You brought a pie?”

“Neighbor gave it to me and I’m allergic, Peter eats bananas on his way in.”

“And it’s Flash, you keep forgetting my name.” he said as you kept on moving almost unfazed by the weight of the bags you had and the pie through your toe top trot up the numerous flights of steps.

“I never forget a name,” you said making his lips part, “For some of us our name is all we have left, given of our parents.” That had his mouth close and brows furrow in thought remaining as close to your pace as possible. Right up to the proper door you led the way and knocked, hearing voices and noise on the other side of the wooden barrier. Within moments, like a young Jason Isaacs, a brown haired blue eyed man peered down at you both then smiled widely at you as you said, “You must be the husband.”

“Thank you, all the time at games it’s Death Eater this or Captain Hook that. Swear that man is not going to let me have a moment’s peace with my own face.” Gesturing at your hand he said, “You brought pie,”

“Ya, sorry, allergic and my neighbor gave it to me. But Peter eats bananas.”

“So do we, welcome and I will take your pie of death,” he jokingly said, taking hold of the desert and looked over Flash who gave him a quick grin and nod.

“Flash.”

“Ah, the penis proclaimer himself.” Ben closed the door and aimed you both in farther, “Peter’s in the living room.”

“Who brought pie?” May could be heard saying in the kitchen, having clearly taken the pie as a challenge of treats until hearing of the allergy that had you bring it here to be eaten by someone out of propriety to not be seen allowing it to go to waste.

“Hey,” Ned and Peter said excitedly upon seeing you until they noticed Flash then added, “You brought Flash.”

“He was hyperventilating on the stairs.” You said. Moving closer to take a seat on the couch Ned plopped back onto in the teen’s scoff.

“I was not hyperventilating. That’s a lot of stairs.”

“I climb three times that to get to my place.” You replied.

And MJ on the chair beside you said, “No wonder you’re in such good shape.”

Flash said, “How do neither of your buildings have elevators?”

“Dude, this place is practically a landmark, built in the 30’s.” Ned answered.

The uncle was back and said with a grin to you about the variety of drinks available on the tray in his hands, “We got a spread, none have bananas.”

“Thank you,” you said accepting the grape flavored juice you’d been meaning to try but it was a tad too expensive to justify buying the ten pack it came in.

“Ben, by the way, heard a great deal about you, young Pluto.”

“No he hasn’t,” Peter said sharply, making you smirk in the move of the tray for Flash to accept his own choice then went back to the kitchen again.

“Snacks will be out shortly.”

And Flash said as you settled the drink on top of the bag atop your lap to open the twist cap, “Your dad’s super chill. Mine hovers when I have company.”

And Peter said to Ned’s sideways glance his way, “Ben’s my uncle,”

“Oh,” Flash said, “He lives here too? My Gramps lived with us for a month and my parents just about split after the fights he stirred up for how modern Mom is.”

Peter simply explained, “My parents were found legally dead few years back, left me with my aunt and uncle when I was five after someone broke into our house.” That had Flash simply register what you meant about the name comment earlier mid glance your way that had Peter, MJ and Ned look between you both.

“Who likes finger foods?!” May asked excitedly, “I can also call out for food if any of this is dangerous for you all.” And she said to you, “Thank you for the pie.”

“You brought pie?” MJ asked a bit confused at how they seemed to be so fond of you.

“Neighbors keep bringing me food when I work long hours on long stretches. Sometimes they’re recipes I’m allergic to and I have to get creative.”

“Why?” Flash asked.

“Most likely because I’m an immigrant child who lives alone and worry about my safety even if we don’t pass on pleasantries in the halls, dropping off food and making sure I’m not alone during deliveries is the easiest way to show you care without flagrant show of attention to a comfortable stranger.”

Snacks soon shifted to conversation on trivia for various topics. A ring from MJ’s pocket triggered the wave of visitors back home again. And now at least in the night air you were able to head back home. Able to get some supper whipped up before bed to rest for the ruined pampering evening. Routines filled with reminders to not show how spoiled you felt it was to Gwen who already was frightened by the men shadowing your path the last time you went for coffee.

Mid pout the same blonde who had taken over your plans later found your path into the school the next morning. Before you could even say hello she voiced the name of her irritation. “My Mom is insisting she has to come today.”

“Well parents do tend to not trust me. I live alone.” You answered.

Causing her jaw to drop and she stammered out, “I trust you. And, I think she trusts me,” her brows furrowed in thought a moment, “I mean, I am trustable. Only almost smothered my baby brothers in a tent mishap once when I was younger.” And she shook her head, “But that tent set got recalled, so it wasn’t really my fault.” A few times she blinked looking down at you and blurted out, “I trust you. She’s, just,”

“Being a mother,” you finished her sentence for her.

“Yes,” she said with a nod and raised a hand to mess with the end of her ponytail that had fallen onto her chest. “I think I might get some blue in my hair. Technically the school dress code doesn’t say anything about hair color. Did you want some color too?”

“Um,” you said recalling the times in Hydra’s control they tried to bleach and dye your hair only for it to be black again after you lit up. “I had some bad reactions when they tried to lighten my hair in Russia, took a while to grow it back again.”

“Oh, my cousin had a stylist burn her hair off one time, just awful. Worst I had was a woman gave me a bob when I was six, hacked off all my hair my mom was furious, had been growing my hair out for years to match on family pictures for holiday cards.” With you she had turned and continued to ramble on until you had to split up for first classes.

“Hmm,” you sighed at the sight of the notice your first class at Columbia had been canceled for a family emergency. Right around you turned and instead of heading for the library you simply went to sit on a wrap around staircase to the building that held your next class to not be far away. Across a broad step notes and books were settled as you leaned sideways against your bag to recline against an arm. Lost to focus the chill of the white steps through your coat and torn jeans had all bit been forgotten.

A loud roar on your right had you glance up from said notes mid chew on an orange you had in your bag to snack on between classes. Hulk free of a conference on the other side of Manhattan in a sea of scattering students he’d bounded off a building across the street to land in the open courtyard they were crossing turned to look over his surroundings. Off of him back to your notes focus turned to complete the thought inside your head onto the page. Over your side a shadow fell and oddly for him the Hulk was drawn to the one figure who hadn’t run from his imposing self. And beyond what was assumed the gama radiated side of the brilliant Bruce Banner came to hear what you were working on. By the minute growing more interested within the animal genetic based literature you voiced to him and explained why you were reading it.

Both tone and demeanor visibly calmed the giant and for the view of the approaching SHIELD handlers come to fetch him he began to shrink. Shirtless in the chilly air the scientist with hint of the fruit flavor still on his tongue of what you had shared with the Hulk blinked while accepting the spare flannel shirt you had pulled out of your bag. “Thank you,” he said hastily tugging it on. Up at the duo on their way to speak to him he looked and then said without looking back at you. “I’ll um, wash it and send it back to you.” Onto his bare feet he rose. To hurry across the frigid stone steps and pathway to get inside the vehicle meant to take him back from where he had been scared enough by a sudden flash side effect to a project he was asked to assist on while Reed Richards and Stark were busy. Lost entirely on the odd feeling he had upon shifting back, unlike other times had the Hulk more at ease than exhausted as he was after a fight or frenzied scare luring him out again.

Twice down your apartment steps you had to fix the back of your open toed flats usually donned for pedicure days. The hair salon was first, outside of which you saw Gwen’s smile spread upon sight of you. The blonde at her side even taller than the lanky teen looked your curly haired self in a step over a seated small service dog in wait of the street light to change so they could cross with their companion. “Hello, Mrs Stacy,” you said. Breaking the silence to the maroon jumpsuit clad woman; who had tight hold of her bag either out of nerves or fear of being mugged.

“Hello Pluto. You come here often?”

“Regularly, my stylist from Russia works here.”

That had her brow arch up in confusion. “Are they famous?”

“She has done a few competitions and helped with a model agency this spring. However fame is subjective concerning the hierarchy of it.”

“I was able to have an appointment last month with Frederic Fekkai, quite elusive to catch him with an open slot.” She said and you nodded out of confusion on what to say.

“Looks good,” you said making her grin to herself. “Just getting a trim myself,” you said to break the silence of her quiet moment then took a step to the door to not be late.

“I’m still going blue,” Gwen blurted out in a verbal jut of her tongue at her mother as in a final say on an ongoing argument concerning that topic. While not exclusive the warm conversation in Russian with your stylist during the process of combing, spraying and trimming your stubborn curls had Helen Stacy questioning the bond between you. Gwen proudly came out with a few streaks of navy blue in her blonde hair now braided to accent the new change, while you exited proudly with just a couple unnoticeable inches lighter.

“My car is over here,” the vehicle being a gift from her husband at his promotion to Captain showed her reasoning behind liking the few splurges involved financially lately. Directions were given from the backseat by you to the nail salon she chose the best spot and parked enabling you all to climb out after the child locks released. Silence was a chosen way to gain confidence from parents on not being a threat to their child. Much like Hydra well behaved and not too boisterous children were often given more space than those who could cause damage or disturbances in public. She however kept looking at you sideways. Perhaps out of stories she heard from her husband you knew well as your other self upon tasks you had aided him in either willingly or by chance of a certain vigilante the public knew to be a friend of yours.

Inside the same stylist you used smiled and welcomed you back stating openly, “Ah, I see you have female company. Tell that brother of yours we have new shipment of rhinestones for his next visit.” To yourself you giggled following her to the station while two other ladies came to help Gwen and Helen to the pedicure stations beside yours. Both who eyed the green bruise on the underside of one of your feet the woman chuckled at your lack of reaction to pressing on the painful nuisance out of your trip to the past.

There to the manicure stands Gwen kept the conversation going to not let the chaperone ruin a fluid conversation with you. Sight of the first second hand shop didn’t smooth Helen’s nerves any being so out of her usual outing rounds. “I still don’t think it’s long enough.”

Topic of her youngest brother being grounded and under watch of their father had Helen in Gwen’s dart to another rack to check something she saw ask you, “Your foster family in Russia, did they ever ground you for poor test grades?”

“I failed an evaluation on diving efficiency when I was nine, they broke my femur. Told me if I failed again they would break my other leg. So no, they never grounded me.”

Wide open her jaw fell to your absent minded step aside to look at the next section of the rack your eyes had been fixed upon the whole time. “And what happened?”

“I passed.”

“To them,” she said debating if she should touch you or not now knowing why she had been sensing a withdrawn personality behind a wall with this new object of her daughter’s attentions.

“They killed themselves when I left Russia.”

“In custody?” she asked expectantly, hoping that you had received justice from such despicable treatment.

And up at her face your eyes looked to answer, “No. Very influential people. But you can’t convict dead bodies.”

Back to the rack you looked and she stepped closer to say lowly, “If, you need to talk about it, I know very reliable resources.”

“My brother got me in therapy.” Up at her you looked and asked, “Were you a hamster child or a puppy child?”

“I, what?” she stammered out making Gwen smirk in her return with a cool sweater in hand.

“Did you have a puppy or a hamster? I have a theory working on the effect of the size of pets upon certain developmental aspects of the brain in children in relation to the development of the pet’s brain in response to adult vs child caregivers.”

“She had a tank of clams actually,” Gwen said in amusement luring your eyes over to her. “Grandpa worked on boats, brought her some for a project.”

“Water filtration,” her mother clarified.

“Filter feeders are quite intriguing actually, while barnacles are quite a nuisance. Had to soak and scrape what felt like a mile off my ship I found.” Making the pair of them chuckle and Gwen warm up seeing her mom had started to try to warm up to you after just a small break apart.

Weekly games would carry out and to Harry’s delight his father actually did attend his games, or at least the back half of them and was amply pleased at the new gust of life into the scoreboard. Compared to the prior season it was minor gains. All the same they were racking in more wins to a near streak as it inched closer to October. Traces of threat for you had the daily shadowing back to weekly secretive check ins while Cooper insisted on continuing gym trips to bump into you. Though that was mainly to see how you were pushing the Osborn boy along on his path to improved physique.

So today alone without need to hurry back for Decathlon or Color Guard you intended to enjoy your time alone. At least until you saw Lt Colonel Rhodes and Nick Fury waiting for you outside your last class at Columbia.

“Pluto, sorry to drop in, busy?” Rhodey asked and into your bag you eased your now closed notebook.

Fury said, “Found some unpleasant news for you.”

“All you need is a taxi cab behind you two and this is straight out of a WW2 film of a death notice delivery.” That had their lips part and you said, “I’ve grown familiar with a look of someone telling me something revolving around death. Believe it or not it’s all in the nose.”

Fury said, “There’s a diner nearby, we’ll buy, you like milkshakes? Bit crazy about them myself.” His head ticked to the side, “Probably ‘cuz this white man back when I was a kid refused to sell me and my friends malts in his shop. Nearly beat my best friend into a coffin once, since the always jump at a chance to have a milkshake.”

The creeping grin on your face had his turn halt a moment, you said, “Had a feeling we had matching humor. You’re an odd one too.” That had him chuckle and continue turning to guide you to the nearby diner.

Orders were given and out of his pocket Rhodey pulled a folded picture of you taken not long before your escape from Russia. “One of our friends picked up a tip on Barnes, led us to a hidden bunker, where we found some of your friends.” He pointed out the girls who had been found.

“We weren’t friends,” you said parting his lips, “If we made friends they kill one us,” the words had them both let out a breath of air to keep from interrupting the stoic stare filled share of information. “More like people who share a bus stop, you memorize patterns to be able to recognize the usual herd, know who to keep near to, who to stay away from.”

You pointed at one making them lean in, “She said once she wanted to be buried at sea so she could swim with whales.” You pointed at another, “She used to always name her dance roles Ellianna, and this one always pretended she liked the grapefruit we were given but used to spread stolen packs of sour candy powder on the slices.”

Making the guys smirk at the bits of information on this group of girls no one bothered to notice was missing prior to the manhunt when they vanished the night you did. They wouldn’t be buried with names as their real birth names couldn’t be discovered and Fury refused to name them by what Hydra had marked down. But each coffin would have something of a token left based on what you shared with them for the funeral that wouldn’t be public aside from the team there to handle the job on secret military land far beyond public view. All except for the plot free grave marker for the girl whose ashes were spread at sea as per her shared wishes.

This wasn’t the last group of children found harmed by Hydra’s various dastardly deeds and they would be in good company of other children inside the plot of land designated with room to spare for more to be added later on when discovered.

“How’d you know to run?” Fury couldn’t help but asked and you simply looked up at him to answer. “Catch a feeling about someone who crossed your path? Always curious how people escape from captive situations.”

“I made them trust me. Eight years, I made myself a magnificent liar. They didn’t bother to close the door when the call came in my pretend sister and I were being moved after our next ballet rehearsal. I just walked right out the door with a small bag of my things.” And for all the truth to your words both of the men for what they assumed you could have gone through didn’t dare to dream of ever calling you a liar as what you did was to survive those years to be here in front of them. After a moment of recalling that girl who cried so hard when a surgery changed her mismatched eyes of one blue and one brown to matching blue and spent the next few years scribbling on the formerly brown eye in all her pictures you broke the silence that left them a bit uneasy.

“They really shouldn’t have picked me. Every brown eye has an under layer of blue, so with a laser you can change their eye color. There are jokes, there would be a market for parents who want purple eyed babies.” You said causing them to force their jaws to clench and prevent gaping at you, “No matter what they could have tried to hide me, there’s no mistaking my father’s eyes and hair, or my mother’s face. Her left eye used to be brown,” you said tapping the picture over your fake sister’s face. “She has an older sister she never met, Yelena.”

“Belova?” Fury asked you, blurting out the name that kicked a bell in his brain to go off.

“No, that one only has brothers. This one sounded Israeli. Used to repeat Esther Sapphire under her breath. I couldn’t take her with me, she was older, we only met at breakfast, her room was on the other side of the house.”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” Rhodey said and asked you when you pushed the picture back at him to make room for the food so he could pocket it. “How’s the ship going?”

“Thank you,” you said to the waitress reminding them to do the same and began to answer. Warming up the mood greatly by your increased smile.

Pt 33

@devilishminx328. @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @jiminapickle