occupy the web

Wounded - Peter Paker

As he slid through the window of your room, he gave you a exaggerated smile and looked over at you sitting on the small couch in the middle of room near you bed. This has been happening more and more now ever since he told you he was the crime fighting, amazing, Spider-man. You giggled softly at him and went back to finishing your math homework. You saw him nearly slip off of your window sill and then struggle to keep himself on his feet. “Oh my god, Peter.” you said, concern flooding your mind and tone. You quickly walked to him, trying not to make too much noise because not only was it a school night and it was almost midnight, but your room was directly across from your parents. You slung his arm around your shoulder to help him lay down on your bed. He winced and made low groaning sounds before he hit the warm embrace of your duvet. “I’ll go collect the first aid kit in the bathroom, please don’t go anywhere.” You said before jogging out of the room. As you searched for the kit, you noticed your hands shaking. He never came to you in this sort of state; can’t stand and wincing at every little movement. Finally, you found the kit and walked back to your room to find Peter rubbing his fingers along the gash on his jawline and looking curiously at the blood that now stained his fingers. He laid with his legs extended out in front on him and his head against one of your pillows. You sat to the right of him and set the kit in his lap before grabbing a disinfecting wipe and dab it gently over his open wound on his jaw. He winced causing you to sigh and pull away from him slowly. His warm eyes found yours and were filled with guilt, he knew that you were disappointed in him. He gave you a small nod, giving you permission to continue. His suit was tattered and torn in a few places and stained a deep red wine color in others. Dirt was covering his once peachy skin tone which was now pale and grey. To distract himself, he started to twist the large college t-shirt that was covering your upper half. He smiled lightly and let a chuckle slip past his lips when he realized it was his. “You never asked for it back.” you shrugged making him smile bigger. This moment was diminished after you realized what you were doing. “Who did this to you Peter?” you stop blotting the gash below his lip, on his chin. Your free hand was occupied tracing the webbed pattern along his suit, your eyes darting between his worried eyes and your hand. He paused and slowly licked his lips as if he was thinking of a way to tell you this without you getting overly worried or angry. “He calls himself the Vulture..” he trailed off. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do yet but he has lethal weapons and I can’t let him hurt anyone or anything.” He held eye contact with you as his hands slowly reached up to brush against the top of your cheekbone then down to your jaw. You lean into his touch because even though the thought of him loosing his life to save a stranger scared you to no end, you were proud of him. He does what no one else will do and loves to save people. He gave you a closed-lipped smile and pressed his lips to your forehead. “It just scares me, I don’t know what I would do if something went wrong, you know?” you sigh, a whole burning through your chest at the thought of not having Peter anymore. You slowly felt the tears build up in your eyes. “Please, please don’t cry (y/n.) This is what I do. If I don’t do it, who will?” he asked looking deeply into your eyes. Again, you sighed because he always knew what you were thinking. His words sounded as smooth as honey and held so much adoration for you. “You, Ned, and Aunt May are my motivation to come back home. I wouldn’t be able to live without you guys, but especially you. You are my world.” he promised. He let his foreheads slowly fall against yours, and looked down at your hand that was now tightly holding his suit. “…and I love you.” he smiled as the words fell from his lips. You looked up at him before a tear rolled down your face, “I love you.”

The Killing Joke Imagine: Daughter

On a particular dark and stormy night, more than usual in Gotham, a young girl decided to leave her home and maker her way to the cemetery. She barely even paid attention as the raindrops pounded down on her coat. She only had one purpose and her tunnel vision was taking her there. The wet mud covered her shoes while she made her way to that old familiar spot. When she reached the tombstone of her mother she dropped to her knees… then

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anonymous asked:

My brother is having trouble with webs that his Ariodos keeps making. They aren’t in any places where they would stop people from moving about but they are just EVERYWHERE.

Ariados might be trying to replicate wild hunting behavior. Try telling your brother to train with ariados more, and hide treats around the house or buy a treat-dispensing puzzle toy to keep them occupied.

As for the webs, they’re really sticky at room temperature and get even worse with hot water, so use cold water and a stiff brush so they’re less flexible and more likely to pull away from whatever they’re attached to.