Herbe
the dave of guy
- Pronoun
- xe/xem (plural)
Prologue:
I won't lie and say that this fic isn't escapism for me right now. This story is set before the events of Spiderman: Homecoming (and CA: Civil War to a point), but if they were already 16, almost 17, and stuff was a bit different.. I reserve my right to artistic liberties - it's not really canon-adjacent. The premise is based off the trans spiderman headcanon that I personally have (along with plenty others) about Tom Holland's MCU Spider-Man.
Chapter One's a bit of a prologue/tease, tbh. I'm posting the chapters here as I finish them, so this is obviously a rough draft.
In the corner of a dimly-lit underground pharmaceutical compounding agency, a glowing arachnid crawled into a cardboard box filled with sterile vials.
“Oh, they were over here,” the pharmacist called to her assistant as she picked the box up and carried it to her and her partner’s workstation.
“Oh, what a relief. Although the base parts were ridiculously cheap from Alchemax anyway, so it wouldn’t have been a big hassle to reorder them if they got lost.” Her assistant, a young, blonde man with ear gauges, opened the box and lifted the tray of chemicals out to set them down on his workstation.
“That was odd, wasn’t it? I mean, lucky, for sure. But it feels like they were practically giving their stock away –“
“Well, that’s a win for both us and our patients. The sliding fee scale can only be slid so far, unfortunately.” He spoke that last sentence as if he knew that pain firsthand.
They both worked together to compound the testosterone cypionate, exchanging light banter between themselves here and there. They failed to notice the miniscule arachnid, who had already pierced the top of one of the vials and injected it with venom.
The pharmacist’s assistant picked that vial up and scrutinized it for a moment. “Does this vial seem to be more… luminant? than the others?”
“I wish you’d stop complaining about the haphazard lighting in here. We’re trying to keep overhead to an absolute minimum.” That wasn’t what the assistant meant, but he took that as his cue to shut up and get back to work.
I won't lie and say that this fic isn't escapism for me right now. This story is set before the events of Spiderman: Homecoming (and CA: Civil War to a point), but if they were already 16, almost 17, and stuff was a bit different.. I reserve my right to artistic liberties - it's not really canon-adjacent. The premise is based off the trans spiderman headcanon that I personally have (along with plenty others) about Tom Holland's MCU Spider-Man.
Chapter One's a bit of a prologue/tease, tbh. I'm posting the chapters here as I finish them, so this is obviously a rough draft.
Chapter One: Alchemax
In the corner of a dimly-lit underground pharmaceutical compounding agency, a glowing arachnid crawled into a cardboard box filled with sterile vials.
“Oh, they were over here,” the pharmacist called to her assistant as she picked the box up and carried it to her and her partner’s workstation.
“Oh, what a relief. Although the base parts were ridiculously cheap from Alchemax anyway, so it wouldn’t have been a big hassle to reorder them if they got lost.” Her assistant, a young, blonde man with ear gauges, opened the box and lifted the tray of chemicals out to set them down on his workstation.
“That was odd, wasn’t it? I mean, lucky, for sure. But it feels like they were practically giving their stock away –“
“Well, that’s a win for both us and our patients. The sliding fee scale can only be slid so far, unfortunately.” He spoke that last sentence as if he knew that pain firsthand.
They both worked together to compound the testosterone cypionate, exchanging light banter between themselves here and there. They failed to notice the miniscule arachnid, who had already pierced the top of one of the vials and injected it with venom.
The pharmacist’s assistant picked that vial up and scrutinized it for a moment. “Does this vial seem to be more… luminant? than the others?”
“I wish you’d stop complaining about the haphazard lighting in here. We’re trying to keep overhead to an absolute minimum.” That wasn’t what the assistant meant, but he took that as his cue to shut up and get back to work.