#dangrwatson

          EYES  BRIGHT  /  SMILE WIDE.   a  day’s  planning  culminating  in  rooftop  escapade,  access  to  F.E.A.S.T’s  fire  escape  granting  ability  to  climb  higher  with  mj  in  tow  despite  civilian  clothing,  nearby  buildings  casting  deep  shadow  the  perfect  cover.   ❛   n’awh,  you  think  i’m  adorable   ?   ❜   playful  smirk  dances  at  lip  corners  for  once  unobscured  by  mask,  implicit  trust  in  the  way  movements  aren’t  kept  in  check,  an  OTHERNESS  that  few  get  to  witness  outside  of  suit.   

          ❛   it’s  a  uh,  welcome  home  party  for  two               spidey  style.   ❜    finally  surprise  comes  into  view,  manhattan  skyline  spread  out  ahead,  glittering  in  twilight’s  glow.   in  front,  web  has  been  weaved  to  create  makeshift  screen,  projector  set  up  next  to  boxes  emblazoned  with  EDDIE’S  PIZZA  on  top.   hammock  spun  out  of  synthesised  silk,  pillows  adorning  surface   —   creation  that  took  majority  of  morning,  one  not  spared  any  detail.   ❛   had  to  work  on  a  budget  but             i  think  it  turned  out  okay   !   ❜

             ♙ ❝     ow    ---   yeah, no   . .   i’m fine, MJ. don’t worry about it   ;   lets just get out of here before anything    CRUSHES US    by us standing around.      ❞

  “  it’s not the first time he’s been caught with his pants down on national television.  ”

Do you have any controversial headcanons that go against what is generally accepted by the fandom? Do you incorporate this into writing your muse or keep it to yourself?

b oy do i. okay so most people seem to love flash going to space and joining the GOTG but man i hate everything about it. they seemed to have stripped flash of everything that made him who he is and replaced it with the standard “generic character traits” that’s sort of a one-size-fits-all kinda deal. going to space doesn’t suit the kind of character he is and man i just,,, really hate it. as much as i love space and wanted to love it, i hate it so much.

Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?

hell 👏🏻 never 👏🏻 happened 👏🏻 space 👏🏻 never 👏🏻 happened 👏🏻

idk i answered this here i guess? i think i went a bit overboard there. 

What is the general opinion of your muse’s fandom about them? Do you agree with it?

does………….. the fandom have an opinion on flash? do they acknowledge flash?

hey i just came on to have a nice sunday morning

we don’t speak of that evil in this house

a dying kiss

   (  There isn’t blood  )      he doesn’t see blood, and she’s breathing. She’s scared but it’s okay, he tells her. They usually say you shouldn’t start moving until you know what the problem is. He doesn’t see blood, she’ll be fine. But there’s this thing sticking out of her side and he can’t bring himself to touch it. He just tells her to stay still.

       ❛ What’s up? ❜  he means what’s wrong, and even that isn’t the right question.  ❛ Mary Jane? Hey, baby... ❜   He looks at her and she’s someone else. Someone who should have never been in this position; she was put in this position. Her face should be wet with rain or sweat or his tears but it’s dry and warm and it’s not raining, and it’s not dark because the sun is shining and they’re shaded by their building. Yes, they’re outside their apartment steps and stairs away from safe. She was almost safe.

    The street noise is noiseless, the only sound is babe, baby, and wait Peter and there’s no blood and I can fix it and so much breathing. She’s breathing. She tells him something like an instruction, and whether it’s what she asked or not he leans down hand holding up the back of her head, and he misses her lips slightly, kissing the corner of her mouth. He tells her how beautiful she is and she tells him that its the lighting, and he asks her what she wants for dinner and she coughs ( it’s laughter ). He touches her side where the thing protrudes and it’s wet and red, and then it starts to rain. 

    Waking up from this dream doesn’t jolt him anymore. It’s the same dream with slight differences that he can’t seem to memorize and change at will yet. It still makes his heart pound and the base of his back sweat, and it sends a sharp cold through his scalp that sets the hairs on his arms straight. The routine kicks back in, rolling onto his side with his eyes closed, opening them when he’s sure she’ll be there to greet him. He wraps his arm around her tucking his fingers between her ribs and the mattress and breathes out when she makes a sleeping sound of acknowledgment in the apartment, safe.