The Perks of Being a Wallcrawler (Spider-Man/Marvel AU)

[Mujaki]

So... I've had this idea rolling around in my head (explored on SB's Index) where we take a noble protagonist in Peter Parker and give his story a bit of a twist. The rule of the day is doing the unexpected and seeing how Peter reacts. So the basic ground rules I laid for myself are as follows...

• No Gwen (No, I don't hate her).
• No MJ (No, I don't hate her either... as I said before, I want to do the shipping thing without the major love interests hanging over my head).
• No Major Crossovers (no side outings with the X-Men, though they don't quite exist yet in this continuity anyway).
• No Romantic Filler (I don't particularly like stretching a romantic will-they-won't-they over the course of the work, so when Peter gets a love interest, they won't dance around it).
• Yes to Old/Obscure Characters.
• Yes to Playing with Tropes.
• Yes to Character Cross-pollination.

I'm borrowing bits and pieces of the MCU version of Peter (his enhanced senses and relative strength compared to other heroes, alongside a youngish Aunt May and multiethnic cast), the Ultimate Universe (Peter being in high school and dealing with relationships as well as villains), and the good old 616-Verse... along with a few other Easter eggs along the way. I'm crossposting this to QQ and SV because, hey... why not? I do want to give a major shoutout to Duelist925 for his dialogue punch-ups and beta work and Ezra, scriviner, and Emerald Oracle for all their help in worldbuilding. With all this said, let's get this show on the road!

I present to you... The Perks of Being a Wallcrawler.

 

[Mujaki]

Spoiler: Vol. 1 Cover

#1... Peter Parker's Precious Little Life​

My name is Peter Parker… and I'm going to be late.


Normally I'd have plenty of time for a jaunt to the Upper East Side to stop a bank robbery and back with enough time to pick up a bite to eat before U.S. History — gotta love Tony's — but today just wasn't going to be that day.


I have this neat little app on my phone, clues me in to all kinds of crime, and right before Chemistry it picked up a robbery. A robbery that had escalated into a high-speed chase through Midtown, and ended with me further south than I intended to go...and I only had so much time to make it back across the bridge, and get my butt planted in a seat before Mr. Bellew could start his lecture.


<incoming text from Nee-Ed Led-Sah… would you like me to read it to you?>


Ugh, I need to work on that pronunciation algorithm. "Sure thing."


<Nee-Ed says… Dude, where. Are. You? Lunch ends in Five-Teen minutes.>


I'll get the codebreakers on that one. Awesome.


It wasn't the first time the AI that Ned and I tried to fork into my suit's meager electronics suite had glitched on names. Ned had the brilliant idea of wiring a small speaker into my mask so the on-board CPU could read me texts while on patrol. It turns out the digital assistant he st—commandeered did a lot of computation on the backend and without a connection to the StarkOS servers, our AI was dumber than a Speak-n-Spell.


I should amend that… a Speak-n-Spell could get English right most of the time.


Fifteen minutes, I can do this. I pulled to one side to steer around a building and started zipping alongside the East River, ignoring the random shouts of the rare passersby who happened to be looking up as I trekked towards the bridge.


Until I saw the smoke.


So much for fifteen minutes. With a quick flip, I let the web-line I'd used to control my fall slip free and planted myself on a nearby traffic light to assess the scene. A van had taken the curb too fast and toppled over on one side, spilling its cargo of—ugh, diet—soda all over the street. A couple of nearby merchants had dropped their wares to come and try to help the driver out of his vehicle… and more than a few had decided it was a fantastic time to get a few free crates of soda.


Stay classy, New York. "Alright, folks! I'm going to have to ask you to set those delicious, possibly carcinogenic beverages down."


"It's Spider-Man! RUN!" At least people recognized me now. All it took was taking down a crazy person who wanted to set Broadway on fire.


Time to be a hero.


Thwip! One box down and the big, bald guy who was holding it didn't look twice before running away. I turned my attention to two —Thwip! Thwip!—old ladies who had the audacity to start scolding me for webbing up their handbags alongside the merchandise they'd been trying to haul away a few seconds before.


"I'm sorry! Don't steal stuff!" I said as I sailed over their heads. My feet planted firmly on the ground, I listened for the heavy sloshing sounds of any other would-be thieves before I leaped up to the side of the van. "Do you need any help?"


"There's smoke in the cab! I think he's stuck!" A man, a hot dog vendor by the look of his apron and paper cap twisted askew on his head, wheezed as he struggled to kick the windshield.


"Let me help you." The hot dog guy stepped aside as I crawled over to the upturned door and tried to open it the old-fashioned way, feeling slightly disappointed when the latch refused to work. Oh well, I can't say I didn't try. "Sir, I'm going to pull the door off. Try to stand up!"


I felt movement beneath my fingertips as the driver righted himself in the cab, so I took that as a "Yes!" and dug my fingers into the doorframe to make my own grip. My shoulders tightened for a split second and with a harsh, metallic shriek, the door pulled apart like paper in my hands. I tossed it behind me and webbed it to the upturned side of the van before reaching into the cab for the driver. "Alright, everyone out of the boat!"


After making sure the driver was clear and unharmed, if a little rattled, I gave the nozzle of one of my web shooters a quick twist before I matted down the fire in the cabin with a few well-placed globs of webbing and yanked the key out of the ignition for good measure. The blissful sound of sirens quickly approaching meant I could step back and take a breath before scooting my Spider tush over to the bridge and—


CRASH!


A pane of glass shattered somewhere to my right, barely audible over the noise of the crowd around the van, the sound of screeching tires as the local paddy wagons came to a stop, and the dying wail of the ambulance as the EMTs hit the scene. I tilted my head for a moment and focused, waiting until I heard the sound of shuffling, papers hitting the ground, metal raking against tile…


There.


"Thank you, officers!" I waved to a puzzled member of New York's Finest as I made a quick jump from van to the roof of the ambulance to a nearby fire escape where I zeroed in on the source of the noises… a bodega just around the corner. Another short hop from ladder to asphalt and I was right outside the shop, where I poked my head inside to find a a curious scene.


A skinny man in sweatpants, a black and green striped shirt, and an honest-to-Thor domino mask had decided to take advantage of the bodega owner being a good samaritan and was in the process of shoving cigarette cartons into a canvas sack. A small part of me was genuinely impressed at the sheer audacity of someone using a car wreck to pull off a misdemeanor or two, but I figured this had gone on long enough — the bodega owner was still chatting with the police and this guy had nabbed all of the cigarettes and was going after the corn dogs now. "Fancy meeting you here."


"Ahh!" The thief shrieked, cartons and fried burritos tumbling out of his arms as he hopped around to face me. "Alright who's the wisegu—AHHHH!"


"I think you said that already." I said helpfully. "You know it's wrong to steal, right?"


"Uh… I work here?" You know, as excuses went, it was at least one I hadn't heard before.


"Is that the standard uniform for"—I glanced towards the cash wrap and spied a business card wedged into the register's display—"Eugenio's Fine Grocers?"


"Um…"


"So what do I call you?" I should've taken pity on this poor guy, but a little notoriety goes a long way in scaring someone straight. "You've got a mask and you've got a costume. What's your name?"


"A name?" It was almost painful to watch this guy fumble around like a puppy. A very dumb puppy.


"Yeah. All of you supervillains have names to go with the costume. What is it?"


The thief had gone white as a sheet and big beads of sweat dotted the exposed part of his forehead. "Uh... no. just... y'know... didn't want to get identified."


"Huh. You are actually the first sensible criminal I've run into in a while."


"Thanks!"


"But not sensible enough to NOT do crime."


"Oh." He deflated, dropping the last of his cache on the ground. "How 'bout this? I leave this stuff here and you can let me go?"


"'Fraid not."


"Come on, man!"


"Dude, you're the one who decided to do a crime!" I waved my hand towards the broken dispenser and literal bag of loot in his arms. "Now give me a name."


"How about you can call me... um... the Looter?" If I squinted, I could almost see the hamster wheel turning in his brain. I hoped it had enough water.


"Are you asking me or telling me?"


"I'm telling you."


"Okay, you're The Looter." The Looter's grin was short-lived as I webbed his feet to the ground. "And now you're busted."


"...aw, man."


"It's better than Stilt-Man!" I said, jogging out the door and with a quick thwip! I was airborne, only just catching his final words as I sailed over the midday traffic.


"You're making that up!"


Just another day in the life of being Spider-Man.

---​

"You were fifteen minutes late."


"I know."


"Mr. Bellew was giving your desk the side-eye until you showed up."


"I know."


"He's gonna call May if it keeps happening, Pete."


"I know!" The last thing I needed was another teacher complaining about my attendance, even if it was coming on the heels of my GPA landing me on the top of the class for the previous year. "I just got caught up, Ned."


"That happens a lot, dude." Ned's voice had a concerned edge to it. "We need to work out a better system."


Ned Leeds is my oldest friend and probably the biggest nerd on the planet. Half a head taller than me, dark-skinned, and heavy-set, Ned gleefully enjoyed living up to the stereotype when it suited him. We had known each other since elementary school, nearly ten years now (which is a lot when you're only sixteen). He's the only person I know who could eat my lunch when it came to coding and computer science, not to mention the fact he's one of only two people in the world who knew about my secret. To be fair, it wasn't as though I had planned to tell him, but I hadn't realized just how stressed going out and being a friendly neighborhood superhero was making me.


So when he sounds concerned, I listen. "What did you have in mind?"


"Well, I'm thinking that we either need a stronger on-board processor for the suit's diction program or we totally scrap an AI for now and just try to fork an extension of your phone for the earpiece."


It didn't take much to get Ned excited and his eyes were alight with the possibilities. So were mine, if I were to be perfectly honest. "Let's build around my phone, since that's easier to deal with. And I can ask my boss if I can go through his slush pile after work tomorrow."


"Sweet! I can be The Guy In The Chair for you when you're out, you know." He curled his fingers and mimed how I use my web shooters. "Besides, I want to get a camera in that thing so you can go over your technique."


"My technique?"


"Yeah, you know, practice makes perfect after all."


"Ned, I don't think it's something you can just practice anywhere."


"Petey! You can practice anything, you oughta know that by now!" A big arm slides around my shoulder as Kong made his way between Ned and me, sidestepping around a haughty looking blonde wearing a mink collar jacket. "I'm guessing, uh, 'lunch' went well today?"


Kenny Kong was my other best friend, joining Ned and I at the designated "loser's" lunch table when we were in the fifth grade. As short as me and wider than Ned, he probably had it the worst among us when it came to the other kids giving him crap because his Mom would always pack a distinctly not-American lunch that smelled pretty good to me, but made the other kids squeamish.


Kids suck sometimes, just saying.


Kong had the last laugh, though, since he shot up about a foot between seventh and eighth grade and now he tosses his old bullies up and down the football field when he isn't hanging out at my house. "It went well." I mused.


"Too well." Ned deadpanned as he gave me the eye. "Pete was late to class. Again."


"Dude.." Kong gave me a pained look.


"I know! It's a conspiracy, I swear." Kong raised an eyebrow at that, but I pressed on. "You know I can't just… walk away when someone needs help."


"Maybe we just need to coordinate better. I'll ask Coach for some tips."


"That's what I've been saying! Pete needs to train or practice or something. We can figure it out."


"If this keeps up, they're gonna tell May. And then you'll be stuck at home instead of doing the thing." Kong settled one big hand on my shoulder and gave me a shake. "Come on, we'll work it out. In the meantime" Kong raised both arms over his head and gave a mighty yawn. "I need to head out to practice. Dinner at your house tomorrow, Petey?"


"Of course! You know Aunt May loves having you two over."


"Aw, she sure knows how to make a boy feel special." Ned leered with his eyes crossed and I couldn't help but smile despite my eyes rolling into the back of my head.


"Amen to that." Kong said as he started jogging off. "See you later!"


"You two are gonna kill me one day." I huffed. "I swear. How do you even practice being… well, you know?"


With Kong gone, Ned fell into step beside me. His tone was surprisingly serious when he spoke again. "Like I said before, we'll figure something out. I think the idea is, well, the opposite of getting you killed. Nabbing that Mysterio guy was the proof of concept, Pete. You don't need to do this alone anymore."


I looked down at my hands for a moment and for a moment I remembered the cloyingly sweet scent of Beck's stage fog cluttering up his lab.


"Yeah. I know."

---​

"Peter! Are the boys coming over tonight?"


"Nah, Aunt May. They'll be over tomorrow." I shuffled inside and threw my bookbag on the well-worn couch in the living room before slumping over next to it. "Kenny's got practice and Ned's tied up playing some new game with that online friend of his."


"Aww. No gym tonight?" May poked her head out from the kitchen, her long, brown hair tied in a knot on the top of her head and flour dusting her nose just below her heavy glasses. "I was making some of those bran muffins for you and Kenny for… oh, what does Ed call it?"


"Glycogen replenishment?"


"Yes! That!" May walked over to the couch and gave me a quick squeeze and a peck on the top of my head. "Oh, honey! You look exhausted. I know the two of you have been working hard, but you really need to get some rest."


I was tired, but I figured it was mainly the lingering stress of the day. "I will."


"You promise?"


"I promise."


"I'm going to hold you to that." She said, a hint of mischief in her voice. "And I have some good news for you too."


"Oh?" I sat up, feeling my back pop in about six places as I did so. Maybe she's got the right idea about this whole "rest" thing.


"You got a letter!" May pulled an envelope from a pocket on her apron, grinning like a particularly satisfied cat. "And it's from upstate."


"Let me see it!" The envelope was an unassuming blue, the return address from a Mid-County Medical Center near Westchester… "Oh, it's from Jess!"


"I thought that would perk you up." I didn't even have to look at May to know she was pleased. "Dinner will be done soon, so don't pour over it too much. Besides, you need to chat with Ed tonight — it's been ages since the two of you have talked."


Ugh… maybe Ned and Kong have a point about my time management skills. "I'll do it tonight."


"Go do it now." May's voice was firm. "Are you mad at Ed? Is that why I've been getting texts telling me 'Oh, May, Peter hasn't texted me in almost a week! Is everything okay?' You need to talk to her."


"Guilt trip much?"


"Is it working?"


"Too well."


"Good. Go call your sister. I think a letter from Miss Campbell can wait for a few minutes."


"Fiiiine." I drawled, rolling my eyes at May's smirk as she went back to the kitchen. Still, she and Edie had a point — I let time get away from me and everyone was noticing. Note to self… tell Ned and Kong that they are free to say "Told you so!" for the next week. Still, a letter from Jess and getting poked by Edie on the same day. I'd call it luck, but I suppose that depends on your definition of "luck".


The guys will be happy, I'm sure. Jessica Campbell, the last member of our little band of misfits to join up with us, making her way to our lunch table in the seventh grade. If I was the shortest one compared to Ned and Kong, then Jess was positively teeny, barely coming up to my nose. And she stayed tiny, even when we got to high school and Kong had long since left Ned and I in the dust as far as height was concerned. She was all goofy smiles, bad home hairdos — I felt her pain there when Aunt May decided to try and give me a haircut one day in the eighth grade and ended up buzzing most of it off — and glasses even chunkier than mine used to be. If Ned was the biggest nerd on the face of the Earth, then Jess was probably the biggest geek, gleefully coming over on Saturday afternoons to watch old B-movies with me and Uncle Ben.


And then her parents died in the same car accident that put her in a coma. Ben had been helping an Aunt of hers arrange for Jess' transfer to a long-term clinic when…


Well, it was a rough month.


My bed had never felt so enticing in my life, but I had other things to do. One thing in particular. A thingy thing. Oh, quit putting it off, Peter! She's not going to be mad at you.


Well, she wouldn't be especially happy either. "No time like the present." I muttered as I pulled up her number and shot off a text.


Edie responded almost immediately. <lil' bro! where hav u been?!!>


<I'm sorry! I got caught up.>


<u seeing a girl?>


<No, not since the last time you asked.>


<fine fine. R u busy?>


<Waiting for dinner. You gonna call?>


My phone lit up, a picture of Edie grabbing me in a headlock shining in the dark. Never change, Ed. "Hello?"


"Petey! It's been way, way too long!" All I saw was a mop of strawberry blonde hair for a split second before Edith Brock came on screen, blue eyes wide and a toothy grin on her face. "Have you been avoiding me?"


"Of course not! I was just kinda doing… stuff."


"Stuff? More important stuff than letting your sis know you're alive?"


"It's not that bad, is it?"


"Petey, I had to ask May what you were up to. Have you even seen my latest video?"


Edie had a fairly successful YouTube channel where she liked to share nutrition tips, proper form for stretching, and live workouts. Edie was also a six foot tall blonde, which probably led to a significant, um, "periphery demographic" that helped her pay the bills. "Not yet. Shoot me a link?"


"For you, bro? Anything."

---​

I rolled back into my room after supper and flopped face first into my bed, stuffed full of meatloaf and ready to pass out for a few hours. Maybe eight hours… actually, a full week of hibernation sounds nice right about now.


Ding!


Or not. I reached into my pocket and blearily looked at my phone, a text notification from Ned flashing redly on-screen.


<Pete! You need to take a look at this. Seriously.>


Huh. Ned had sent me a link to PeekABoo, one of the streaming channels he followed. <This had better not be another cosplayer.>


<Not this time. Look at it.>


I tapped on the link and it opened up to a landing page that blinded me for a second due to the garish off-white and pink design all over the place. Which matched the cheesy grin of the girl on the video, her red lipstick smile being the only visible part of her face. The rest was hidden behind a reflective yellow visor that looked as though it had been hastily mashed together with a sleek bicycle helmet. A cheapo white windbreaker jacket, matching gloves, and what looked like pink yoga pants that tapered to white running shoes completed the ensemble. After admiring herself for a moment the costumed girl tilted her camera so a convenience store was just barely visible behind her.


"Good evening to all my new fans out there! For those of you who don't know who I am, well you're about to!" She hefted a brick into frame and that cheesy grin grew even wider. "Welcome one and all to the exploits of the world's first live-streaming supervillain, SCREWBALL!!!"


When the glass window shattered and the live view counter shot up, I just knew my luck had finally come due.

---​

Up Next… Issue #2 ALIENATOR VI: THE AWAKENING!

 

[Mujaki]

Spoiler: Ned Leeds and Kenny Kong...

I just wanted to go ahead and drop this here since I had it, courtesy of the fantastic Pyu! The supporting cast in this thing makes me all kinds of happy and you can bet that the boys are going to be a huge part of this thing. For scale's sake, Peter is about a half a head shorter than Ned and Kong is about 6'3". We'll learn more about Peter's friend circle next chapter...

 

[Small Nerd]

You've certainly made a good first impression on me. I look forward to seeing where you go with this. Here's hoping you get to Peter's college years and beyond.

 

[comradepitrovsky]

It's relatively interesting, but the extra space between paragraphs is driving me insane.

 

[Dmol8]

Huh. OK Watched.

 

[Acolyte]

No harry osborne, aww well watched.

 

[Lab_Accident]

Eddie Brock is a girl. I do not know how to react. I'm suspending judgement untill I see what you do with it. Amaze me.

 

[UnownZ]

Eddie Brock is a girl. I do not know how to react. I'm suspending judgement untill I see what you do with it. Amaze me.

Click to shrink...

Oh! That's who she is! I was racking my head over who Edith Brock was.

 

[Mujaki]

Issue #2... Alienator VI: The Awakening!

Three weeks ago...​

"YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME, INSECT!" Mysterio boomed. "MY POWERS OUTMATCH YOU AT EVERY TURN!"


"I'm not an insect, I'm an arachnid!" I swung around a streetlight, banking towards the floating monstrosity he was propped up on. Everything about Mysterio was loud, from the explosions down the street to the nearly endless pops of what I swore were fireworks dancing around my head and dazzling my vision. Even his outfit was loud — Mysterio was seven feet tall if he was an inch and every bit of him was covered in chrome green and lined with gold. Coupled with a fishbowl where his head should be, everything about him should have shouted "fashion victim".


Or at least it would have been if he wasn't a walking tank and that dome of his wasn't on fire.


My spider-sense screamed for a moment and I twisted in mid-air, three glass orbs filled with colored smoke missing me by inches, and I somehow still managed to land on the hovering... thing that was carrying off an armored car. Whatever it was, it had way too many tentacles to be comfortable.

I ducked low as another orb zipped past me and noticed Mysterio blink out of existence right in front of me. Swinging my head back and forth, I saw him materialize again on a nearby rooftop, arms crossed. I launched myself off the floating thing, aiming right for that shiny globe...


Hopefully I can blame what happened next on just being too tired. I didn't notice that 'Mysterio' was just standing there, not moving… not reacting to the arachnid-shaped missile flying at him.

So I really should have expected it when 'he' erupted into a mass of goo and tentacles that wrapped me up tighter than a six-cheese burrito. The viscous slime soaked into my costume, slick against my skin, and the tentacles bound me like steel cables. By the time I was able to stick my toes on the ground to get the traction to pry myself loose, Mysterio and the armored car were long gone.


I was covered head to toe in slime. I just stood there, shuddering for a moment as the sheer level of gunge settled in. Ugh, some of it had gotten through the mask into my mou—


…wait.


Corn syrup. It was freaking corn syrup?


I breathed deep and tried not to gag at the cloying sweetness. Just my luck… I'd be tasting it all week.

---​

There weren't many tall buildings in Queens, which left me to hoof it once I got past the high-rise apartments by the bridge. Sore as I was from sling-shotting my way over street lamps, it wasn't much of a surprise that I slipped off the rain gutter at the old Watson house and landed flat on my back two stories down. After that, I limped my way home suffering from gravel in my boots, corn syrup squishing in unspeakable places on my person, and a severe case of bruised pride before I stripped in the shed and made my way indoors to soak myself under the hottest shower I could. It took forever to wash the purple gunk out of where it had soaked through the mask and into my hair, the food dye swirling around the drain as quickly as I scrubbed it out. Fresh from the shower in one of Edie's fluffy red bathrobes — my guilty pleasure since she never came back home to get them between semesters — I made my way downstairs. I hadn't heard anyone in the house when I made the mad dash from the shed to my bathroom to get my spider tush in the bath, but the note May had stuck to the front of the fridge eased a bit of the tension I had felt since getting home.

​

***​

'Peter

Out playing cards with Phineas and Caitlin. I'll be home late, probably around midnight. It's Friday, so feel free to wait up for me! I left some money on the table for dinner. Just make sure there are some leftovers, buster!

Hope you had fun after school. Let me know how your game with Ned and Kenny went!

Love,
May
XO'
​

***​

At least I didn't have to explain why I'd spent so long steaming myself to her. I ordered some takeout with the money she'd left and headed downstairs for some catharsis with awful movies.


I loved the basement. The smells of wood oil and the old couch in the corner, mixing with whatever was cooking upstairs or whatever we'd picked up on the way home had a way of calming me like nothing else, even before my sense of smell was ratcheted up to eleven.


I learned the hard way that super-smell is not a power you want to have when surrounded by the sweaty teenage masses in a high school.


The couch was some horribly plaid thing that Uncle Ben had picked up at a garage sale for a song years ago. My seven year old self had been given the important task of guarding the cushions while he and Mr. Mason wrestled it downstairs and Aunt May tried not to roll her eyes too hard. Once the all-important furniture was arranged, the old tube tv gathering dust in a closet made its way down, alongside a VCR before too long. He kept them repaired for years afterwards, replacing components everytime something went wrong or they "let out the magic smoke". He loved that line.


Mr. Mason let me scavenge stuff from the slush pile as part of my "salary", so I had plenty of spare parts to keep them working. Honestly, I think he just liked that I loved these stupid old movies as much as he did, considering he had a signed poster hanging in his shop — itself an old gift from Uncle Ben. I pushed the battered "Alienator VI: The Awakening!" tape into the slot and settled onto the couch for some cheesy schlock.


The Alienator movies were dumb. They were really dumb.


I knew that going in, of course. Uncle Ben was the reason I had all of the movies in the first place. We'd watched them a dozen times or more each sprawled on that old couch, bottles of coke washing down handfuls of popcorn mixed with raisinets. Well, all of them except the remake that came out last year with it's utter garbage CG effects. The whole reason these movies even existed was to show off the stupidly elaborate effects work a single guy put into the whole shebang. Quentin Beck was a master of practical effects, and Uncle Ben and I had both sworn off the CG remake when we found out he wasn't going to be a part of it.


I didn't have any raisinets and we were out of popcorn, but some pretzels and lukewarm soda did well enough. I sunk into the old couch and let myself zone out, just sitting back and absorbing the cheesy acting, ridiculously endowed extras, and awesome effects. I crunched through my snack as Random Victim #12 approached a form standing still at the edge of the water, only for the seemingly human figure to explode into a mass of tentacles and slime, dragging the screaming man into a gruesome embra—


Wait.


I fumbled for the VCR's controls, rewinding it and watching the scene again. Approach the human figure. Explode into slimy tentacles. Restrict around the victim.


Rewind. Approach. Human figure standing still. Tentacle explosion. Gross hug.


Rewind. Figure. Tentacles. Slime. Hug.


Rewind. Pit in my stomach as I watched it again. Again. Again.


"....That looks really damn familiar." I whispered to myself.

---

Today​

I stared at Kong, studiously ignoring the website behind Ned advertising the movie marathon the two were going to. I repeated myself for what felt like the hundredth time:


"No."


"Come on! You're super into this stuff!"


"I was till I had to fight the guy."


"And that, Petey, is exactly why we need to go." Kong deadpanned as he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's been nearly a month and we haven't done anything to celebrate bagging your first crazy-guy-in-a-costume."


"Besides, we haven't out in a while and it's time to fix that." Ned said as he twirled around in my desk chair.


"What about—"


"Going to Tony's for a slice doesn't count." Ned's words were a hideously off key sing-song that I knew he did on purpose.


"Ned's right and you know it." Kong's voice provided the harmony.


"Hah! So you admit Hobgoblins is a better series than Alienat—" Ned started to crow.


Kong shoved a hand over his mouth, muffling the argument before it could begin. "Ned's right this one time about this one thing!"

I sighed and shook my head. "Guys, I get it, I do, but I really don't want to see that jackass's movies anymore. Look, I promise, tomorrow we can, I dunno, head out to the mall or something, but I'm not going to this dumb marathon. That's final."​

---​

I crunched on over-buttered, over-salted popcorn as the credits for Alienator IV: The Slime Attacks rolled. As soon as the house lights came up, I immediately hopped up to stretch and then make a dash for the bathroom. I pointedly ignored the smarmy grins Ned and Kong shot my way.


Stupid jerks, keeping me from being a crime fighting shut-in...


I met up with my two well meaning friends once I'd finished up and we made our way to the lobby to reload our supply of salty sugary goodness. The crowd for the matinee was pretty sizable, though I guess that was to be expected given Beck's resurgent fame. Ironic, all things considered. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I somehow didn't notice Kong coming to a dead halt right in front of me until I walked face first into his shoulder. "Hey!"


"Oi, Petey."


"What?" I looked up to see Kenny's eyes dart to my left and tracked his line of sight to the concession line, where I saw someone staring at me. Their eyes — a bright hazel behind thick glasses — widened when they realized I was staring in their direction and quickly looked away, a few loose strands of dirty blonde hair wisping out of the hood of their jacket.


Someone… a girl someone.


Oh.


I looked away, trying desperately to hide the blush on my face.


"Alright!" Ned's nasal voice piped up behind me, a tub of fresh popcorn in his hand. "Are we ready to load up for the next… huh, what's going on here?"


Kong had the biggest grin on his face that I'd ever seen. Even bigger than when he'd gotten paired up with the worst asshole from our middle school during the Freshman wrestling tryouts, and had him tapping out within ten seconds. I knew what he was going to do before he did it. I didn't even need my spider sense for it.


"Hey, guys, I left my wallet in the theatre! I'llberightba—" I turned to try and sprint away, but it turns out that not even the proportionally enhanced speed and agility of a radioactive spider could save me from a large, traitorous friend. I let out an undignified yelp as Kong caught me by the hoodie and bodily lifted me up.


"Put me down! Put me—Kong, stop walking while I'm flailing, I could—Kong! Kong, what are you doing!" I hissed as he carried me towards the mystery girl and set me down in the line across from her.


If nothing else, she seemed as shocked as me, staring open mouthed at the two of us. Kong gave me a shove for good measure, landing me right at her feet before he turned tail and slid back in line. I didn't see him leave — I was too busy having a panic attack to turn around — but I could feel his lumbering footsteps. And I definitely heard the faint sound of his chuckles as I tried my best not to drop dead where I stood.


I'd defeated a supervillain not a month ago. I fought crime on a daily basis. I could dodge gunfire. I was not going to be intimidated by—oh god she's looking at me!

---​

Ned's confused stare darted from his large, grinning friend to the small (yet secretly badass) one currently frozen in shock, as if facing down a hungry dinosaur.


"...mind telling me what that was about?" he managed to get out.


Kong grinned. "I just saw a girl giving Petey the eye during the movie."


"Girls give Pete 'the eye' at school all the time."


"This was different, Neddy." Ned cringed a bit at the diminutive, but Kong slapped one big arm around his shoulders and was all smiles. "Those girls look at Petey like he's radioactive. This one was licking him with her eyeballs."


"Ahh… I get it." He didn't, not really, but he knew Kenny was pretty good at picking up on this kind of thing and thus trusted him. "And the whole picking him up and dropping him in front of her thing?"


Kong shrugged. "You know Pete. You think he'd have done anything if I didn't push him a little? Besides, she had the same deer-in-the-headlights look he did." That insolent grin was back and downright gleeful. "It's a perfect match!"


Ned would have facepalmed if his arms weren't full of ridiculously upcharged popcorn and half a gallon of soda. He settled for a mental groan and pressed on. "So… what? You thought you could get them to be awkward at one another?"


Kong glanced back at the still unmoving pair. "Not like it could hurt anything. Look, she's smiling! He must've said something. Progress!"


Ned sighed. "Kong, she looks like she's gonna hurl."


"Nah, it's fine. He looks the same."


"Dude." Ned wriggled the bags of popcorn into his friend's hands specifically so he could wave his own around. "He's stuck in place like she's a T-Rex looking for her next meal. Like he forgot she can still see him even if he doesn't move!"


Kong stared at the two for a moment, brow furrowing. "Ah crap. I guess I'll have to give him a helping hand." Ned rolled his eyes as Kong expertly popped out his phone and fired off a text.

---​

They only see movement! Wait, no, stop with the stupid dinosaur analogy, that's Ned's thing. Focus! Focus Peter, you can—


I don't know how long we'd been staring at one another, wondering what to do, before my phone buzzed in my pocket. I scrambled to pull it out and check the message.


<ask her her name, dingus.>


I stared at this arcane message for a moment before something in my brain clicked and I looked back up at her. Her glasses were a bit thicker than mine used to be, but she didn't have the horn-rimmed frames I got stuck with for a good chunk of middle school. The girl was still frozen in place, eyes locked on mine, and I could just about feel her heart pounding away at a thousand miles an hour as I tried not to stare too much. My senses had gone into overdrive picking up her slightly baggy jeans — freshly washed — and loose hoodie with the hood still pulled around her dirty blonde hair.


She's cute.


The girl swallowed and before I could get a word out, she blurted "HeyIamDebrahicallmeDeb!"


"....Hi. I, uh. I'm Peter?" Why was that a question? Come on, Parker… this isn't that hard. Really. My phone buzzed again and I glanced down.


<did you get her name?>


<Deb. Her name is Deb.>


Somewhere behind me, I heard Kong say "I'm so proud!"


<offer to buy that weird alien skull slushie>


<What?>


<look at her hoodie! not her boobs, the shirt. she has the same one you do! she'll dig it! now stop texting me and talk to her.>


I glanced up to see the gir—Deb, to see Deb looking at confused as I felt. "Um..."


"Do you want something to drink?" I was quite proud of myself for having managed to enunciate what was undoubtedly word vomit. "I mean, they have these, uh, these blue raspberry slushies in alien skull mugs and I saw your, I mean, our shirt! We have the same, we, uh, same shirt? I really like the Alienator movies, they're really cool—not cool, just, enjoyably bad? I mean the effects are really cool, I like practical effects—" Shut up Parker, wrap it up!!! "—So...slurpee?"


Deb seemed to relax a bit once I'd stopped spouting my entire vocabulary. She smiled and nodded. "I, um… yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."


Ten minutes later we were sitting next to one another trying to avoid brain freeze and sharing a tub of popcorn. She'd insisted on buying it and a box of raisinets after I bought the drinks. Kong and Ned had rather conspicuously not sat with me—us? Sat with us. Kong just gave me a double thumbs up whenever I looked back at him.


"I guess I got into them because I like the mechanical stuff? CGI can look cool but it's kind of boring." She said quietly.


I nodded, reaching for more popcorn. "Yeah. I like practical stuff. It just feels—"


"—More real?"


I felt my fingers brush hers in the popcorn bucket and somehow she didn't scream or run away, though I felt like I was going to about half the time. Ugh, I have no idea what I'm doing. Our eyes met and we both looked away. Thank the gods the lights started to dim before she could see how red I was — sitting so close together, I couldn't even tell if the thudding in my ears was my heart or hers. Thanks a lot, super-senses.


Actually, now that I was thinking about it, I could smell her deodorant. There wasn't a lot of scent to it, just a slight hint of lavender mixed with the glycols and paraben overlaying her own fairly distinct sce—stop smelling a girl you just met, you spider-dolt! I stuffed popcorn in my face to distract myself, tasting just a bit of sweet chocolate alongside the salt and butter.

---​

Three hours and two more schlocky movies later I stood outside the theater, hands in my jacket pockets. "So that was… nice." Nice? Ugh, no wonder I nearly hit a B in English last year. I'm clearly a scholar.


Deb smiled, fiddling with her glasses. She'd pushed her hood back, revealing a loose ponytail that fell to the middle of her shoulders. "Y-yeah, it was fun. It's nice to talk to someone about this who likes it for more than just the bad gore and wet t-shirts."


I think we both went a bit red once we'd processed what she'd said.


"Yeah." I said, intelligently. Words. Words are hard. What even are words? "I...um. I'd like to talk about it some more? Sometime? If you want?" Ahh, smooth as sandpaper, Peter.


Deb fidgeted for a minute before darting forward. She grabbed my hand and scribbled a number and a name on it in sharpie.

"T-there's my phone number! I'd love to talk about this, or, uh, you know. O-other stuff? Anytime! Really, just, just text me! Please text. Don't call." She stepped back and waved. "I...gotta go before my mom freaks out. I, um… itwasreallynicetomeetyouPeter!"

With that, she turned and ran off. I stared after her for a moment, before looking down at my hand. I kept my eyes on the name "Debra Whitman" and the number beneath it in a chunky scrawl until I felt a heavy weight settled on my shoulder.


I looked up to meet Kong's gaze. "Put the number in your phone before you do something stupid like wash your hands and lose it." He said gravely, before a broad grin utterly ruined his serious demeanor and he grabbed me in a bear hug to swing me around. "Ahahah! I'm so proud of you!"


The both of us were still grinning when his mom dropped me off.

---​

I had managed to get home, wash up, and crawl into bed at a reasonable hour. And yet I was completely failing at sleep. I couldn't help but smile as I looked at the name in my contacts list. Deb Whitman, sitting at the very bottom below Ned and Aunt May. My thumb hovered over it for a moment, but I hesitated. Wasn't there some rule about waiting two days? I've read that somewhere, right. Or was it in a movie? Wait, wasn't it that movie that was making fun of the stupid dating rules… wait, was that a date? Are we—no, we just met, there's nothing going on except the exchange of snacks and bonding over an idiot who turned squishy aliens and their equally squishy victims into works of art.


Ding!


<I know you're having a meltdown. chill, shoot her a text so she has your number, then put your phone away, Romeo>


...which one of us was supposed to have superpowers again? I shot back a thumbs up to Kong and slid over to Deb's name again. My finger hovering over the screen, hesitated for just a second before taking the plunge. Fortune favors the bold and all that.


<Hey, it's Peter from the movie marathon. Just texting so you have my number!>


I managed to hit 'send' before I could have another panic attack and set my phone down on my nightstand. I pulled the covers up and and closed my—


Ding!


I snatched it up, my heart thudding so hard I could feel it in my ears.


<thank you, I had fun! I hope we can hang out again soon.>


Ding!


<have you seen the Alienator TV show? it's so bad>


I smiled at my phone and started to type back.

---

one week ago​

Smoke and broken mirrors — it felt like an appropriate metaphor as I felt broken glass crunch beneath my boots. Beck was slumped against the far wall, the fishbowl dome that seemed so goofy to me when I first saw his get-up all but shattered, his HUD blinking in and out as he shook the cobwebs loose from the explosion. He grunted as he tried to sit up, but the weight of his suit kept him firmly pinned against a wall. After struggling for another moment, he finally gave up and slid back to the ground.


"Damn."


"Yeah." I said as I plucked a small rock from the ground and tossed it at Beck's chestplate, where it bounced off with a mighty THUNK!


"Hey!"


"Sorry, Sparkles,"—two quick shots to his hands stuck them fast against the wall—"but I didn't want to take any chances this time."


Beck grimaced for a moment before he broke into a weary grin. "Fair enough. Now what, hero? Planning on taking me in like some common crook?"


"I don't know if you noticed, but you kinda are a crook."


"Please." Beck scoffed. "I gave this city something it's never had before. A villain with class."


"You're actually calling yourself a villain now?"


"Why not? I knew when I went after Klum I was going all in." He wheezed, his head lolling backwards against the wall. "I was too small potatoes for the big dogs, so I figured I'd be able to make a mark while getting the money I needed for a real comeback." Beck closed his eyes as he gave a mirthless chuckle. "So much for that, kid."


"Well, if it's all the same to you, mind doing me a favor?" Beck's eyes narrowed as I thwipped a web line to the corner of the room and yanked my backpack into my hands.


I pulled my well-worn copy of Alienator VI: The Awakening out of my bag alongside a silver sharpie and held them out for him to inspect. "Think you could sign this for me?"


"Just my luck. Of course it'd be a fan." He drawled, his dry chuckles turning into full-blown laughter. "Sure, why not? Mind getting this glove off for me? I don't think I'm going anywhere anyway."

---
​

Up Next... Issue #3 BONESAW IS READY!!!

​

(A/N... thank you all for your patience! This particular chapter was like pulling teeth, but with a million thanks to @Duelist925 for co-writing this issue with me, it managed to come together rather nicely! The wait for the next chapter won't be nearly as long, so stay tuned, True Believers! I'm sensing Peter's life is about to get much, much more complicated. Also, if you haven't seen the artwork of Ned Leeds and Kenny Kong, check it out here! Another big round of thanks goes out to @Ezra, Emerald Oracle, and @scriviner for their help conceptualizing this thing. See you soon...)

 

[Glyn]

This fic feels more...real. Nicely done
The characters feel like real people, not just something to get the story going.
Love it

 

[Lab_Accident]

Great use of C-list Spider-man characters! I knew Debrah Whitman was a character in the Spider-man mythos, but I had to google her to actually remember who she was. Using these almost-unknown characters makes this fic feel fresh, a Spider-man story off the beaten path. Can't wait to read the next installment.

 

[Mujaki]

This fic feels more...real. Nicely done
The characters feel like real people, not just something to get the story going.
Love it

Click to shrink...

I'm glad you dig it! Spider-Man's characters have always been what made the stories for me, so getting to dig in and really see what makes them tick is half the fun. Glad to have you on-board!

Great use of C-list Spider-man characters! I knew Debrah Whitman was a character in the Spider-man mythos, but I had to google her to actually remember who she was. Using these almost-unknown characters makes this fic feel fresh, a Spider-man story off the beaten path. Can't wait to read the next installment.

Click to shrink...

I'm planning on using as many C-list characters as I can to flesh out this little AU... Peter doesn't go after the Big Bads every day, after all. I'm hoping to make the "big name" villains feel more like an event rather than just a throwaway fight to fill time in a chapter.

From the outset of this thing, I really wanted to use Deb Whitman. 616!Deb has a really unfortunate story arc and was a waste of a character, to be honest. I grew up watching the 90s Spider-Man cartoon, where she was actually fleshed out and given a personality beyond "hysterical lady", so I'll be taking a few cues from that while going in a new direction. This certainly isn't the last we've seen of her...

 

[Dmol8]

"Besides, we haven't out in a while and it's time to fix that." Ned said as he twirled around in my desk chair.

Click to shrink...

"we haven't been out in a while" not "we haven't out in a while"

Also interesting use of fanboying. Not something I buy in for every character, but you sold me on this instance of it. What's next?

 

[Duelist925]

*snip*
Up Next... Issue #3 BONESAW IS READY!!!

​

(A/N... thank you all for your patience! This particular chapter was like pulling teeth, but with a million thanks to @Duelist925 for co-writing this issue with me, it managed to come together rather nicely! The wait for the next chapter won't be nearly as long, so stay tuned, True Believers!

Click to shrink...

I'm just glad I could poke you to do the thing! It was fun. Besides, I have omakes I wanna write. So I'mma keep poking at you until the next chapters done. And the one after that.

Awkward Pete is always amusing

I'm sensing Peter's life is about to get much, much more complicated. Also, if you haven't seen the artwork of Ned Leeds and Kenny Kong, check it out here! Another big round of thanks goes out to @Ezra, Emerald Oracle, and @scriviner for their help conceptualizing this thing. See you soon...)

Click to shrink...

You and I both know how much of an understatement that is. =P