Tasm - Tumblr Posts
Me at the slightest inconvenience :
Not what I usually post but Peter and Gwen!!!
Couldn't download the songs I actually wanted to use unfortunately:(
And I took the first clip from an edit hence the watermark. First edit so be kind!!!
Watching TASM 1 again last night reminded how horrible of a company Oscorp is in this universe. (We see more of it in TASM 2.) They don’t tend to treat their employees well, and they literally have like the worst security in the world. Peter was able to take someone’s identity and get into the building with no consequences or questions from the people working at Oscorp. Also, what the heck is their security system? Literally having a touch screen slide password like phones have. It seems like Oscorp rather spend money on their GIANT ILLUMINATED LOGO FLOATING IN THE SKY rather than their own security system. (Also they tend to treat their employees like crap. Connors and Max are a huge example of this. Connors is basically peer pressured into using the lizard serum when it was not ready, and Max was literally bullied.)
Someone asked for the original picture so here it is
Fucking stunning.
blood-splattered angels [tasm!Peter x assassin!fem!reader]
My own take on my TASM prompt challenge (open to anyone who feels like writing; it’s not a competition or exclusive).
Summary: THIS PROMPT - Spider-Man is kidnapped and held hostage by a mob. And then they make their biggest mistake - sending you the address.
Words: 3.8k
Warnings: John Wick-level violence, death, blood, gunfire, whump, torture, male nudity/degradation, panic attacks, noncon voyeuristic photography, mobster-style shootout, description of flu symptoms, vomit, strong language, badass!reader, OP’s awful attempt at writing broken English in a Russian accent.
This was bad. Really bad.
Peter was starting to come out of it, his dazed eyes flickering open—senses bombarded with harsh fluorescent light.
His face was wet with blood, sweat, and yes—he wasn’t ashamed to admit it—tears. The bile on his tongue was so putrid, he thought he’d throw up. Again. Maybe his actual stomach this time.
His body ached and shuddered uncontrollably. It felt like the worst flu of his life, and whatever he thought Ebola probably felt like. Every inch of his skin hurt. What little strength he had left in his muscles was depleting with every involuntary tremble.
He was having a very bad day.
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