khalixascorner

[khalixascorner]

Ahhhh just read this a second time and I loved it even more. Thank you so much for this wonderful fic (and sorry I forgot to leave a message the first time I read it).

Peter's Stand

A gift for @khalixascorner, inspired by Will Smith slapping Chris Rock at the Oscars

also on ao3

(this one's not very team cap friendly, sorry!)

“Tony, are you sure about this?” 

Peter had posed the question more times than Tony could count, which was a rather impressive amount in his opinion, but Tony couldn’t fault him for wanting to make sure. The Rogues had left him wounded in every sense of the word. If their positions were reversed, Tony wouldn’t have allowed the Rogues to return even if the president himself demanded it. He understood the wariness on Peter’s part and was comforted by his concern.

“Yes,” Tony confirmed, though he didn’t look happy to do it. “I don’t want them near me, but we need to work with them if we want to keep the world safe.” 

Peter took hold of his hands. “Don’t feel pressured to see them more than you absolutely have to. I’ll try to stick by you whenever you go to the compound.” 

For emphasis, he allowed his fingers to stick to Tony’s hands, trapping them in his grip with his spider-like capabilities. 

Tony smiled, clinging on tighter. Peter’s grasp was one he would never try to escape. “You don’t have to do that, Pete. I can handle them.” 

“I don’t want you to have to,” Peter argued. “I’ll be with you every time. Tell them I’m a controlling boyfriend if they need an excuse.” 

Tony outright laughed in his face. “Like you could ever be controlling.” 

“They wouldn’t know either way,” Peter said slyly. 

Tony tugged him into his chest, taking advantage of their glued hands. Peter let go and wrapped his arms around Tony instead, his head gravitating towards the crook of Tony’s neck without a thought. 

“I love you, you know that?” Tony asked quietly. “Thank you for supporting me.” 

Peter pressed a soft kiss onto Tony’s neck, relishing its gentle warmth. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. Alive. 

It hadn’t been that way the last time Tony saw Steve Rogers. And now, Steve was coming home, free to haunt Tony as he pleased. 

Not if I have anything to say about it, Peter seethed. 

-

The UN thought it would be best if the Rogues and Avengers had their reunion in the public eye, during a fundraiser. They figured it would be the simplest way to keep matters cordial and polite. They couldn’t exactly have a brawl if they were surrounded by press and young fans. 

Peter understood the logic, but it didn’t stop him from yearning for a private meeting. He didn’t want Tony to have to face the Rogues in front of an audience after all the time they spent apart. He wanted Tony to be able to speak his mind freely, to have the option to leave if he got overwhelmed. 

That wasn’t possible, so all Peter could do was hover over Tony, antsy on his behalf. To his credit, Tony remained cool and collected in the face of shouting paparazzi. His press smile was on full display when children, teens, and adults alike scampered up to him with phones in hand. 

It was only when he caught sight of Natasha that he faltered. 

Peter placed a soothing hand on the small of his back. If Natasha was here, Clint was bound to be nearby. Where Clint was, Wanda was likely to be, and with Wanda would be Steve. Bucky and Sam couldn’t be far-off. Their reunion was fast approaching. 

“We can leave any time you want, okay?” Peter murmured, voice low. “The UN will get over it.” 

Tony gave him a strained smile in return. “You go have fun. This would be a good chance to network.” 

“There will be other events,” Peter dismissed. 

“Not with all these politicians,” Tony pointed out. “It helps to have the government in your pocket.” 

Peter eyed the room with a grimace. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The obtrusive grumble of a throat being cleared behind them derailed any further attempts Tony might have made at convincing Peter to leave. They turned towards the sound at once, identical expressions of dread on full display of their faces. Peter’s hand moved from Tony’s back to grip his waist, reminding him of his presence. Tony wasn’t alone anymore and would never have to be again if Peter had a say in it.

Steve Rogers stood before them, blond hair gleaming beneath the light, broad-shouldered and handsome as ever. The smile he graced them with was almost patronizing in its wideness. 

“Hey, Tony.”

Tony stiffened beneath Peter’s hand, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. Peter gave him a reassuring squeeze and stepped forward, pulling Steve’s attention to himself. 

“Peter Parker,” he introduced himself. “Tony’s boyfriend.” 

He made no move to offer Steve his hand, but Steve had no qualms about acting buddy-buddy. He stretched his hand out toward Peter, his pearly whites on show as he waited for Peter to clasp it in his. Peter reluctantly took hold of his hand, making a point of squeezing it just tightly enough to make the super soldier wince. 

Steve let go, rubbing his hand. “You’re enhanced?”

“I’m still discovering my limits,” Peter admitted, a thinly-veiled threat in his voice. 

It did not go unnoticed by Steve, who said defensively, “I would never hurt Tony.” 

“Again, you mean?” Peter scowled. 

“All right, boys, let’s not do this here,” drawled Natasha. Peter had hardly noticed her appearance, focused as he was on Steve. “Steve, you’re up on stage in five. They’re looking for you.” 

Steve nodded at them curtly and strode away, immediately swept into the sea of people surrounding them. Peter felt Tony relax a miniscule amount once Steve was out of sight. 

Natasha faced them now, looking Peter over curiously before turning her gaze on Tony, who met her eyes head-on.

“Tony,” she acknowledged. 

Tony pursed his lips. “Romanoff.” 

“Peter,” Peter piped up, unable to help himself despite the gravity of the situation. His small outburst was worth the embarrassment for the smile that twitched on Tony’s lips.

Natasha turned to him. “Peter Parker, was it? And you’re enhanced. I suppose Tony never could’ve dated someone normal. You’re a good match.” 

Peter preened. Getting the people in his life, as well as the watchful public, to accept his relationship with Tony was a battle and a half. To have acceptance be so readily granted to him was refreshing. 

“We’ll be finding our seats now,” Tony said tersely. “See you around.” 

Without further ado, Tony steered them toward their assigned table, leaving Natasha behind. Mercifully, the Avengers weren’t seated with the Rogues. It would have made for an uncomfortable dinner on all sides. Peter’s hand fell from Tony’s waist at last, reaching for his hand instead. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured. 

Tony gave a jerky nod. “Never better.” 

“Don’t do that,” Peter pleaded. “You know I’m not falling for that.” 

Tony sighed deeply. “I’m fine, Pete. I’ll let you know if I need a breather.” 

Peter pressed a kiss to his cheek as they reached their table. They were seated side by side, the only other occupants of their table a diplomat from Germany and a woman Peter vaguely recognized from a movie. The moment they took their seats, a waiter rushed forward with a bottle of champagne, filling their glasses wordlessly and retreating. He was gone before Peter could thank him. 

Tony exchanged pleasantries with their tablemates, who were understandably more eager to meet him than Peter. They gave him cursory glances in an effort to be polite, but Peter didn’t mind the lack of attention. He wanted Tony to get his mind off of the Rogues. 

The chatter in the room lessened when the lights focused on the stage. A woman stood at the center with a microphone in hand, offering the crowd an excited smile. Peter wished he could share in her excitement. 

“Good evening,” she began. “It’s undeniable that the past couple of years have been rough, what with the Avengers disbanding due to the legislation being pushed by the UN. Fortunately, the Avengers and the UN have worked closely to create a version of the Accords they all find agreeable. Today, the Avengers reunite once more and we get our heroes back!” 

The audience clapped, although some of it seemed half-hearted. Tony’s hands remained limply in his lap. 

“Allow me to welcome on stage Steve Rogers, our very own Captain America.” The woman stepped to the side, handing the microphone to Steve before he claimed his spot at the center. 

Steve brandished a wide smile at the cameras. “Hey, everybody. Thanks for coming out. The team and I are happier than you can imagine to finally be home. We appreciate all the support and patience we were given during these trying times. 

“As you know, tonight is about more than our reunion. It’s about helping those in need. The Avengers and Stark Industries are hosting a fundraiser in an effort to give young minds the education they deserve.” 

Steve paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as if searching for his next words. Peter could feel Tony stiffen beside him, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table.

“And I have to say,” Steve continued, “working with Stark Industries again is a privilege. I’ve known a few Starks in my time, and while they all seem to have a thing for fast cars, pretty women, and big explosions, one thing is clear—they know how to gear up the team and open their wallets when it counts.”

The crowd chuckled, a polite, hollow sound that stung in Peter’s ears. He glanced at Tony, who was sitting rigidly beside him. Tony’s jaw was clenched, his fingers drumming restlessly on the table. There was no humor in his expression. No smile, no acknowledgment that Steve’s words had any weight. Just the mask of a man who had been torn apart and glued back together a thousand times.

Peter’s hand found Tony’s knee, squeezing gently, but Tony didn’t look down. His eyes remained on Steve. Peter knew it wasn’t just about the words. It was everything Steve represented—the betrayal, the old scars, the things Tony would never be able to forget.

Peter felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t let Steve keep going. Not like this.

Before he could second-guess himself, Peter was on his feet, moving toward the stage. He didn’t hear the murmur of the crowd, didn’t see the flash of cameras. All he saw was Steve, that self-assured, arrogant smile, the same one that had haunted Tony for years.

Steve turned at the sound of Peter’s footsteps, brows raised in surprise. “Peter Parker,” he said, his smile only widening. “Didn’t see you there.”

Peter didn’t wait for him to finish. His fist landed squarely on Steve’s jaw with a satisfying crack. The mic went silent as Steve stumbled back, blinking in shock.

“What the hell—” Steve started, but Peter didn’t give him the chance to speak. He grabbed the mic, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” Peter’s voice rang out, steady despite the rush of adrenaline. “You don’t get to reduce him to some outdated caricature while standing on a stage funded by his generosity. You don’t get to ignore everything he’s done. Everything he’s sacrificed.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, but Peter wasn’t backing down. He stepped forward, staring him down. “He’s saved the world more times than anyone can count, and you—” Peter pointed a finger, voice growing sharp with each word. “You think you can just make jokes at his expense? Think again.”

The crowd was silent. Time seemed to stretch, hanging in the air, thick with tension.

Peter let the mic drop, the thud of it hitting the stage floor echoing like a punctuation mark. He turned on his heel, walking back toward Tony with his head held high. He could feel the weight of every eye on him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need to look back.

When he reached the table, he didn’t say a word at first. He just held out his hand to Tony, who was still frozen in his seat, eyes wide but a faint smile playing on his lips. Peter didn’t wait for Tony to stand. He pulled him into a quick hug, pressing his cheek against Tony’s.

Tony’s hand rested lightly on his back, fingers digging into his shirt, but there was something new there—something softer, something like gratitude.

Peter pulled back and whispered, “Let’s go, yeah?”

Tony’s gaze softened as he met Peter’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said, the word coming out more like a sigh of relief. “Let’s go.”

With that, they turned and walked out together, leaving behind a room full of shocked faces, the echoes of their quiet defiance ringing in the air.

[khalixascorner]

source

[khalixascorner]

[khalixascorner]

i dont consider myself a 'fashion guru' by any means but one thing i will say is guys you dont need to know the specific brand an item you like is - you need to know what the item is called. very rarely does a brand matter, but knowing that pair of pants is called 'cargo' vs 'boot cut' or the names of dress styles is going to help you find clothes you like WAAAYYYY faster than brand shopping

[khalixascorner]

[khalixascorner]

i'm a writer irl (can't say who because my agent would put me into a blender and press go) and honestly the funniest and most humiliating incident of my life was the time my finished manuscript triggered a plagiarism flag with the publisher for two lines of prose in my literary fiction novel...

.... which was word for word similar to a paragraph in a certain explicit work on FFN starring elrond and his batsman from the hobbit films, aka that one elf that looked like he ate panic attacks for breakfast (i forget his name but it's Figwit II) where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment.

and if you think i had to sit in front of one if the biggest publishing companies in the world and admit that it was, in fact, me who wrote the fic where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment in order to avoid being wrongly flagged for plagiarism, you would be absolutely correct.

(yes they published the book)

[khalixascorner]

Broke af?

But still interested in feeding yourself? What if I told you that there’s a woman with a blog who had to feed both herself and her young son…on 10 British pounds ($15/14 Euro) per week?

Let me tell you a thing.

This woman saved my life last year. Actually saved my life. I had a piggy bank full of change and that’s it. Many people in my fandom might remember that dark time as when I had to hock my writing skills in exchange for donations. I cried a lot then. 

This is real talk, people: I marked down exactly what I needed to buy, totaled it, counted out that exact change, and then went to three different stores to buy what I needed so I didn’t have to dump a load of change on just one person. I was already embarrassed, but to feel people staring? Utter shame suffused me. The reasons behind that are another post all together. 

AgirlcalledJack.com is run by a British woman who was on benefits for years. Things got desperate. She had to find a way to feed herself and her son using just the basics that could be found at the supermarket. But the recipes she came up with are amazing. 

You have to consider the differing costs of things between countries, but if you just have three ingredients in your cupboard, this woman will tell you what to do with it. Check what you already have. Chances are you have the basics of a filling meal already. 

Here’s her list of kitchen basics. 

Bake your own bread. It’s easier than you think. Here’s a list of many recipes, each using some variation of just plain flour, yeast, some oil, maybe water or lemon juice. And kneading bread is therapeutic. 

Make your own pasta–gluten free. 

She gets it. She really does. This is the article that started it all. It’s called “Hunger Hurts”.

She has vegan recipes.

A carrot, a can of kidney beans, and some cumin will get you a really filling soup…or throw in some flour for binding and you’ve got yourself a burger. 

Don’t have an oven or the stove isn’t available? She covers that in her Microwave Cooking section. 

She has a book, but many recipes can be found on her blog for free. She prices her recipes down to the cent, and every year she participates in a project called “Living Below the Line” where she has to live on 1 BP per day of food for five days. 

Things improved for me a little, but her website is my go to. I learned how to bake bread (using my crockpot, but that was my own twist), and I have a little cart full of things that saved me back then, just in case I need them again. She gives you the tools to feed yourself, for very little money, and that’s a fabulous feeling. 

Tip: Whenever you have a little extra money, buy a 10 dollar/pound/euro giftcard from your discount grocer. Stash it. That’s your super emergency money. Make sure they don’t charge by the month for lack of use, though.

I don’t care if it sounds like an advertisement–you won’t be buying anything from the site. What I DO care about is your mental, emotional, and physical health–and dammit, food’s right in the center of that. 

If you don’t need this now, pass it on to someone who does. Pass it on anyway, because do you REALLY know which of the people in your life is in need? Which follower might be staring at their own piggy bank? Trust me: someone out there needs to see this. 

[khalixascorner]

[khalixascorner]

does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver

[khalixascorner]

Broke af?

But still interested in feeding yourself? What if I told you that there’s a woman with a blog who had to feed both herself and her young son…on 10 British pounds ($15/14 Euro) per week?

Let me tell you a thing.

This woman saved my life last year. Actually saved my life. I had a piggy bank full of change and that’s it. Many people in my fandom might remember that dark time as when I had to hock my writing skills in exchange for donations. I cried a lot then. 

This is real talk, people: I marked down exactly what I needed to buy, totaled it, counted out that exact change, and then went to three different stores to buy what I needed so I didn’t have to dump a load of change on just one person. I was already embarrassed, but to feel people staring? Utter shame suffused me. The reasons behind that are another post all together. 

AgirlcalledJack.com is run by a British woman who was on benefits for years. Things got desperate. She had to find a way to feed herself and her son using just the basics that could be found at the supermarket. But the recipes she came up with are amazing. 

You have to consider the differing costs of things between countries, but if you just have three ingredients in your cupboard, this woman will tell you what to do with it. Check what you already have. Chances are you have the basics of a filling meal already. 

Here’s her list of kitchen basics. 

Bake your own bread. It’s easier than you think. Here’s a list of many recipes, each using some variation of just plain flour, yeast, some oil, maybe water or lemon juice. And kneading bread is therapeutic. 

Make your own pasta–gluten free. 

She gets it. She really does. This is the article that started it all. It’s called “Hunger Hurts”.

She has vegan recipes.

A carrot, a can of kidney beans, and some cumin will get you a really filling soup…or throw in some flour for binding and you’ve got yourself a burger. 

Don’t have an oven or the stove isn’t available? She covers that in her Microwave Cooking section. 

She has a book, but many recipes can be found on her blog for free. She prices her recipes down to the cent, and every year she participates in a project called “Living Below the Line” where she has to live on 1 BP per day of food for five days. 

Things improved for me a little, but her website is my go to. I learned how to bake bread (using my crockpot, but that was my own twist), and I have a little cart full of things that saved me back then, just in case I need them again. She gives you the tools to feed yourself, for very little money, and that’s a fabulous feeling. 

Tip: Whenever you have a little extra money, buy a 10 dollar/pound/euro giftcard from your discount grocer. Stash it. That’s your super emergency money. Make sure they don’t charge by the month for lack of use, though.

I don’t care if it sounds like an advertisement–you won’t be buying anything from the site. What I DO care about is your mental, emotional, and physical health–and dammit, food’s right in the center of that. 

If you don’t need this now, pass it on to someone who does. Pass it on anyway, because do you REALLY know which of the people in your life is in need? Which follower might be staring at their own piggy bank? Trust me: someone out there needs to see this. 

[khalixascorner]

[khalixascorner]

A child goes missing late one night after investigating a light emanating from their closet. The Child's teddy bear and the monster that lives under the bed must put aside their differences and form a truce in order to rescue the child.

[khalixascorner]

I'm sure many people have already shared this here, but I think it's important that people here on Tumblr need to see this.

"I disagree with Kamala's position on the war in Gaza. How can I vote for her?" by US Senator Bernie Sanders

[khalixascorner]

And now for a different kind of robot! 

[khalixascorner]

it was a stroke of genius to give James T Kirk a bitchy flip phone in the 60's, truly amazing to watch him slam it shut like a pissed off socialite girl in 2000's teen shows