"I EAT DRYWALL"
Picture this:
The most beautiful, gorgeous, jaw dropping, cunt serving, bootylicious, gigachad, alluring and ethereal model looking woman in front of you. She is Aphrodite, building and molding herself into your perspective of undeniable beauty. She is Venus, unabashedly the finest being you have ever laid eyes on. You’re hard, or wet, or whatever you’ve got going on down there. But you won’t have a lot going on up in your head, because all the blood in your body is parting like the Red Sea and flowing like the 2004 Sumatra, Indonesia tsunami down into your nether regions. You can’t help it, you look-no, stare at her. You’re eyeing her, albeit incredibly and utterly, to the 10th power, respectfully. But you’re still looking everywhere you can. Your eyes trail up her beautifully sculpted body, and you see Spider-Man’s head.
Wait. *angelic music stops* *record scratch*
Spider-Man’s head?
Well at least you didn’t have to actually picture this in real time. James however, did.
This was a new low. Wet dreams about some guy that hates him.
Actually, that part wasn’t a new low, James had that shit happen to him all the time. The having-a-wet-dream-about-a-superhero-who-was-bitten-by-a-radioactive-spider-and-is-therefore-also-biologically-part-spider- and -hates-him was a new thing.
“I- what?” James croaked, shooting upright in the bed. He checked under his sheets and looked down below his torso to see that something else has shot upright as well.
“ Whattt.” He groaned.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, grabbing his phone and muttering.
“Hey author, can you, like, skip this part and get to the part where I’m being all cool and heroic?”
Fine, James, you wuss.
(But James did end up searching ‘how to get rid of raging morning wood’ and end up down a rabbit hole that had him up at 6:00am doing abstract pelvic floor exercises.)
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
“I- dude, bro, come on man, get out of there.” James sighed, picking at the wrinkles in his suit.
“Never!” He heard a muffled voice from inside the contraption.
“Where are the police, I’m only here to stand around and look pretty,” he huffed before walking closer to it.
Some idiot had built a roomba looking vehicle. Okay, perfect, fine, probably illegal in some way but whatever. The real kick was, this idiot had strapped knives to it. Like butter knives and bread knives and cleavers.
James appreciated the creativity, but he didn’t appreciate this loser driving it around the streets.
“Okay everyone, let’s get outta here, don’t worry, you don’t have to tip your waiters, this isn’t America!” He called out to the pedestrians eating brunch.
They started filing out, quite used to people trying to get a rise out of superheroes and coming up with the fucking weirdest ways to attempt to do it.
“What’s it gonna take to get you outta there? Because my limits are pretty high. Just don’t ask me what 7 times 8 is.”
“Fuck off!” The voice from inside called.
“Ooh, that’s another one of my boundaries. Sorry, I don’t do that.” He ran into the roomba vehicle thing, remembering that the knive stab wounds won’t even show up tomorrow.
He started grabbing the knives and throwing them away, before realising that it might be a hazard to have an assorted array of knives on the streets.
Still, better than an assorted array of licorice.
He leaned down to pick them up instead, holding them like a bouquet. Perfect for if you married your abusive ex.
Once he was leaned down, this incel dude drove knife-first into him.
Not into James, but into James.
Iiiinto James.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up, rubbing his ass in pain. “Right, that’s it, no more Mr Nice Guy,” he growled, running headfirst into the vehicle, pouncing on it and ripping the knives off, which were molded (?) into the contraption.
Luckily, most of the pedestrians were out of the way and retreated back into their houses and cars.
All except one.
One Regulus Arctittyus (or however his middle name goes) Black, headphones on, looking down at his camera, messenger bag on and a signature furrowed brow. Walking directly towards them, not a care in the world.
“Yo Regu- I mean random citizen that I have never nor will ever have any connections with and I do not know or fraternise with anyone who also knows! Get the fuck outta the way!”
His eyes looked up at the situation James was in without moving his head through his eyelashes, rolling his eyes and walking over further to the vehicle.
“I- what! No! Stop! Doooon’t do that! Don’t do the opposite of what I just said!” Oh damn, this is what Spider-Man feels like 24/7. “Sirius is so gonna kill me if I indirectly kill his baby brother,” he grunted under his breath, hopping off where the guy was trying to drive the death machine into him and trying to stop Regulus.
Regulus wrenched the car door open, grabbing the guy inside by the collar and dragging him out.
To harden the blow on both the guy and James’ ego, Regulus kicked his side with an unbelievable amount of force for someone looking so nonchalant.
“Fucking pussies,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking back off.
James blinked at his back for a few seconds before coming to his senses, getting rid of the maniac dude and getting rid of the machinery.
At least Sirius definitely wasn’t killing James (well, Deadpool, but quite literally same thing) because his ickle baby brother got stabbed by some tosser who built an actual monster truck.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
remus masterbaiter 3000 (real)
jamie poo
yk how much we’re in love right
ofc siri poo
what is it tho
okay so yk my brother right
Fuck. How does Sirius know?
i don’t recall a brother
james u silly goose
but
i baked
YOU BAKED REGULUS INTO A PEACH COBBLER PIE
WHAT NO
WGAT
JAEMS
i made cake
with no human body parts
and i was thinking i should take it to him
cause he like doesnt eat
but then
i remembered
class smh
so
you want me to do it
precisely
love ya jamie poo
luv u too sirius
James reached up to wipe genuine sweat off his forehead. As long as Sirius never found out Regulus had almost been killed, James was intact.
Not that James being physically torn up before changed anything.
But he’s sure Sirius would find a way to make it permanent.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Half an hour later, James was outside as his ordinary beautiful hot gorgeous human self minus the latex and leather, holding a cake with messy frosting on it, walking to Regulus’ place.
What does that even say? he looked down at the messy scrawl on the cake that read “I EAT DRYWALL”.
That checked out.
He was walking down the street, admittedly an optimistic skip in his step, when he got American rugby tackled to the ground.
KAPLASH!
Okay, maybe that wasn’t the sound it made, but it felt like it.
James had thrown the cake up in the air, prepared to catch it when he was on the ground, when he saw a suited hand reach out and grab it midair.
“Uh… this is yours.” Spider-Man’s skeptical voice echoed in his ear.
He started getting war flashbacks of that wet dream he had that morning. His eyes looked down Spider-Man’s body, just making sure he wasn’t actually built like a Victoria’s Secret supermodel. Nah, he’s good.
Spider-Man’s as sturdy and male as ever. Not that his build wasn’t kinda…
“Hello?” Spider-Man waved his other hand in front of James’ eyes, which was roughly when James realised he was staring unabashedly at Spider-Man, as the guy who tackled him lay groaning on the floor, while thinking yum yum yum, slutty waist.
“Um- I… yeah, thanks, man. Or should I say, Spider-Man,” he took the cake and chuckled awkwardly and grimaced at his finger guns. Fuck off, James, you loser.
“Is that- is that cake yours?”
James looked down at the frosting that quite clearly said “I EAT DRYWALL” and blinked violently. “Uh… no?”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because I probably do give off the impression that I eat drywall quite often.”
“Precisely,” Spider-Man shrugged, looking down at the guy who was still writhing on the floor in pain. James noticed he was holding a canvas bag with a money symbol on it.
“Is that-?”
“Yeah,” Spider-Man nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s just embarrassing at this point.”
James reached down and pulled the guy up with one hand, ‘giving’ him to Spider-Man.
“Thanks, um-… ”
“James.”
“Thanks James.”
Spider-Man dragged the guy off as James resisted the urge to slap himself across the face on the street, deciding that he was just going to give Regulus the cake the next morning.
What the fuck was that? Now Spider-Man hated Deadpool and found James annoying.
Honestly, it’s giving 14 year old Lily. He just couldn't win, huh?
Well at least James could say that he could pursue a career in American rugby, ‘cause that guy was out for a while, although he could’ve been knocked out by James’ incredible good looks and huge dick (meaning that he wouldn’t be the first person knocked out by James’ huge dick) .