Ellie williams ! good influence ۫

Spider-girl isn't really that good of a good influence. The beloved friendly neighborhood hero might be a role model to kids and a symbol of hope to the city, but even she has her own side of "bad deeds"—like technically trespassing on crime scenes, or bending the rules when no one's looking. And when it comes to unwinding, her methods of relaxation aren't exactly the kind you'd expect from that type of public figure. Now, with a close friend caught up in her orbit, those little secrets are about to be shared. In the end, maybe she isn't such a good influence after all.

Ellie williams ! good influence ۫

Spider-girl isn't really that good of a good influence. The beloved friendly neighborhood hero might be a role model to kids and a symbol of hope to the city, but even she has her own side of "bad deeds"—like technically trespassing on crime scenes, or bending the rules when no one's looking. And when it comes to unwinding, her methods of relaxation aren't exactly the kind you'd expect from that type of public figure. Now, with a close friend caught up in her orbit, those little secrets are about to be shared. In the end, maybe she isn't such a good influence after all.

"So, you probably heard I fought those guys yesterday."

Ellie's voice comes muffled through the mask, words breaking slightly with the wind as she swings you high above the city. Your arms are locked tight around her, her free hand steady on your waist. Close enough that, even with the rush of air in your ears, you catch every word.

Yeah, you heard. It was all over the news—like always.

The wind whips through your hair, stings at your eyes. You press your face into the crook of the hero's neck, both to shield yourself and to stay hidden. These little trips aren't new—she picks you up, you cling on, the city blurs beneath you. Not exactly subtle. It doesn't take a genius to notice the friendly neighborhood spider-girl swinging through the sky with the same civilian again and again.

Sure, people could believe she was saving you. But this often? Nobody's that naive. Neither are villains.

Eventually she slows, lowering you gently to the ground.

"Well, there I found this," she says, letting go of your waist before walking ahead.

You watch as she grips the chain and padlock on a warehouse door, snapping it like it's nothing. Inside, the shadows spill back to reveal rows and rows of plants—an illegal, very obvious weed grow-op.

You cross your arms, brow arched at her. Spider-girl. The hero. The supposed role model.

She shrugs. "C'mon, it'd be a waste of good weed."

Wandering deeper, turns on the lights then snatches up a sealed jar, packed tight with rolled joints. She tries to twist the lid, jaw flexing under the mask.

"Uh—just a sec," she mutters, pretending like she's not putting her normal human whole strength into it. When it doesn't budge, she curses under her breath, frustration flaring. A little too much pressure later, glass splinters in her palm, scattering across the floor.

Rolling her eyes, she plucks one joint from the mess and shakes the shards off.

"As I was saying, it'd be a waste..." she tugs her mask up just enough to bare her nose, brings the joint close, inhales like she's critiquing fine wine. "Besides, no one's gonna notice if a single one goes missing."

Well, a whole jar.

Ellie thrusts it toward you, backing up until she drops onto a ratty old couch in the corner.

"Don't tell me you don't want some," she teases, holding a lighter out in your direction, the flame-ready hand stretched your way like she knows you won't deny it.