#“THE MCU TREATMENT”??!!!!?!!!!!!!!

[wykwryt]

saw the words “knives out needs the mcu treatment” injured and bleeding heavily

[deanpinterester]

i cannot stress this enough: if your reasoning for clowning on the mcu is "they overwork their cg artists and animators" i 1000% guarantee that a show or movie you have been stanning for years also abused their artists and you just haven't heard about it because the production companies aren't in the spotlight like mcu productions are. that cartoon for kids? that incredibly animated movie? that non-marvel superhero movie? i've seen people declare their hatred for the way the mcu treats their workers and then turn around and gush about a show that i know for a fact was hell for the artists attached

and no this is NOT me saying "this means you should stop hating on the mcu uwu" it's me saying you gotta be aware that this shit is an INDUSTRY WIDE PROBLEM. you CANNOT "fix" it by refusing to watch mcu movies and feeling good about it. you have to be aware that it's EVERYWHERE. why do you think so many animation and vfx productions are sourced in canada? in india and the phillipines? we are not unionized.

i know it's hard to face the idea that your favourite show might have been made unethically especially when you've spent so much time hating the mcu for doing the same thing. you don't have to start hating your favourite show. just like...be aware. don't be smarmy about it. don't claim without research that a beautifully animated movie Must mean the animators were not working 16 hour days and weekends. i do think we can fix this 👍 but we can't fix it if 90% of us don't even realize what the problem really is

[incorectquoteswlw]

Nat: I can't believe Yelena told me to 'keep an eye on you' it's so weird, you're an adult!

Kate: Yeah, I know, it's so weird! Hey, can you hold this?

Nat: Sure. Like, what is she worried about-? Kate, why did you give me an EpiPen?

Kate: (opening a jar)

Nat: What is that? Are those peanuts?

Kate: Yelena doesn't let me have them

Nat: Are you anaphylactic? Are you- don't eat the peanuts!

Miles away, Yelena gets a text. It is a photo of Nat and Kate in hospital, Kate giving a thumbs up, and Nat looking severely unimpressed.

Yelena: (heart reacting) Fucking peanuts.

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

princess treatment

pair: Tony Stark x reader

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Tony Stark was not known for being soft. In fact, his reputation screamed billionaire genius, playboy, philanthropist—emphasis on playboy. But since you walked into his life, everything had shifted. He wasn’t entirely sure when it happened, but one day, he woke up and realized that he’d do anything to keep you happy. And right now, as he looked across the table at you, smiling sweetly while biting into your breakfast croissant, he felt that familiar warmth bloom in his chest.

You were younger than him by more than a few years, which had initially raised his concerns. He wasn’t the easiest man to be with, but somehow, you made it seem effortless. And in return, he decided you deserved everything. “Hey, princess,” Tony called from across the spacious penthouse kitchen, his voice teasing yet warm. You looked up from your plate, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Yes, Tony?”

He smirked, pushing his chair back. “I was thinking… how about we skip the work for today?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You have a board meeting in an hour.”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “Board meetings are boring. Let’s blow it off and do something more fun.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Fun like what? You always have something in mind.”

“Oh, I definitely do,” Tony replied, already getting up. He moved swiftly around the counter, stopping right behind your chair. His hands fell onto your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. “But first, I’m thinking you deserve a little extra pampering today. You’ve been putting up with me, and that’s a full-time job in itself.”

You laughed again, but he wasn’t done. Tony leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, then moved to take your hand, guiding you up from the table. “Come on, let’s start with something simple.”

“Simple?” you echoed, already intrigued.

Within a few minutes, you found yourself standing in front of Tony’s giant walk-in closet, where he was rummaging around like a man on a mission.

“Tony, what are you doing?” you asked, watching with amused confusion as he threw around designer shoes, jackets, and shirts in search of something specific.

“Hold on, hold on. Aha!” Tony turned around, holding out a small box with a flourish. “I was saving this for a special occasion, but I think this morning qualifies.”

You eyed the box suspiciously before accepting it, opening it slowly. Inside was the most stunning necklace—delicate and sparkling, clearly worth more than most people’s houses.

“Tony…” Your voice trailed off, a little breathless. “This is beautiful.”

“Only the best for my princess,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here, let me.”

Tony took the necklace from your hands, gently sweeping your hair to the side and clasping it around your neck. His fingers brushed lightly against your skin, making you shiver.

“There,” he whispered, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

You glanced in the mirror, and Tony was right. The necklace was stunning, but what made it even better was the way Tony was looking at you now, like you were the most important person in the world. “Okay, what’s next?” you asked, turning to him.He grinned, taking your hand again. “Next? A princess needs a proper throne, doesn’t she?”

Tony led you out of the bedroom and toward the living room, where he gestured grandly to the large, plush couch that overlooked the stunning New York skyline. With a playful wink, he said, “Your highness.”

You rolled your eyes but giggled as you sat down. Tony, ever the gentleman, took it upon himself to kneel in front of you and lift your feet onto his lap. He gently slipped off your slippers, his fingers rubbing small, soothing circles into your calves.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, though the attention felt incredible.

“Ridiculous? No, no, this is what you deserve,” he countered, eyes shining. “In fact, I think it’s about time we take this whole pampering thing to the next level.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Tony stood up, disappearing into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a tray that held your favorite snacks and a cup of tea, perfectly brewed.

He carefully set it in front of you, adding with a smirk, “Fit for a queen.”

You shook your head but couldn’t help the wide smile spreading across your face. “Tony, you’re spoiling me.”

He shrugged, clearly not bothered. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. If I’m not spoiling you, then what am I doing?”

He sat down beside you, pulling you gently into his arms. You curled up against him, resting your head on his chest as he stroked your hair softly. “Besides,” Tony said after a moment, his voice quieter now, “you’re worth all of it.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his warm brown eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

“Not possible,” he murmured, kissing your forehead. “You deserve the world, and if I can’t give you that, I’ll settle for pampering you as much as possible.”

You let out a content sigh, nestling closer. “You know, you don’t have to buy me all these fancy things to make me happy.”

Tony smiled softly, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “I know. But I like seeing you smile. And I like being the one who puts it there.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Tony Stark, the man who was known for being closed off, tough, and impossible to read, had somehow become the one person who made you feel like the most cherished person in the world. And in moments like these, you realized just how lucky you were to have him.

“Okay, Mr. Stark,” you teased, poking his side playfully. “What’s next in my princess treatment itinerary?”

Tony chuckled, his hand never leaving your waist. “Well, I was thinking a bubble bath with rose petals, then maybe a trip to Paris, but, you know, we can ease into it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You really are ridiculous.”

“Only for you, princess. Only for you.”

[rynrising44]

Danbeau vs. Valcarol: There is no competition. They both mean the world to me.

At around 6am while on my Zoo med rotation, I was running treatments and ruminating about Carol Danvers, as I normally do. I started thinking about Carol and Valkyrie, and then Carol and Maria, and then Carol and her relationship with Monica. I was thinking about a few posts I've seen regarding Danbeau vs Valcarol with some discourse over which one is right, and which one is wrong, and I found myself asking the question, "Why do you write about Valcarol so much? Why does their possible relationship mean something to you, when Carol and Maria literally started raising a child together, before Carol left?" and then it kind of hit me.

Carol died.

I knew this. It's something that drives a lot of my works, but I really just let it soak in:

Carol Danvers- the hot-headed, stubborn woman who never thought twice about doing something she knew was right- died. The light speed engine killed her. The Kree stripped her of her memories, revived her for the sole purpose of weaponizing her powers for their racist genocide, and then shaped her into a murderer. In the end, she beat Yon-Rogg's ass, saved Earth, and re-united with her family, but her memories were still gone. She left, not truly realizing what Maria and Monica meant to her; and then- due to a variety of poor decisions and an overwhelming sense of guilt- she never came back. She never really remembered, either.

Monica grew up.

Maria moved on- became a hero in her own right with SWORD. Kicked ass as a mother and as director of a freaking intelligence agency.

Fast forward a few decades, and here you have an anxiety-ridden, effectively immortal, still half-amnesic Superhero with a shit-ton of guilt and a self-sacrificing complex. Maria is dead, and Carol refuses to reach out to Monica, for fear of roping her into all of Carol's mistakes. She's running from planet to planet in a chaotic pattern of, "I need to make up for Hala. I need to make things right," and self-isolating herself as a form of punishment.

Enter Brunnhilde, a woman who literally self-isolated for like a thousand years on a murder planet. A woman who knows loss, who is extremely long-lived, and who drank to shove away her past, because she couldn't handle the memories. She's got a shitty history as well, filled with regret and poor decisions.

While Carol has no memories, Brunnhilde has too many.

Carol latches onto the past, Brunnhilde tries to ignore it.

While Carol is a nervous wreck of, "I have to fix it. I have to do better," Brunnhilde was the, "Maybe if I ignore everything, it'll go away," variety, that has now turned into the, "I am responsible for literal warrior children and a country full of theme-park goers. Oh gods, what have I done?"

They're both utter messes in their own right. They're both foils of each other: soft and hard, dresses and suits, expression and repression, patterns and solids, past and present, and to me, they just... fit. Maybe it's a combination of my own trauma that draws me to them. Maybe it's because I love a good tragedy, I don't know, but the thing I'm trying to get at is this:

I love Maria and Carol for who Carol was. For that fireball of a woman who never second-guessed herself. The person before the Kree, and Hala, and space- whose biggest concerns were proving the Air Force wrong, changing diapers, and finding a babysitter for Monica on date nights. Bars and alcohol and baseball caps. First loves and long drives with the windows rolled down. Two women with an equal lifespan, who could live and die together like normal, beautiful humans.

And I love Carol and Valkyrie for who Carol has become. An immortal PTSD-ridden warrior. Someone who second-guesses everything. Whose concerns now involve about a hundred planets, Titans, gods, Accusers, etc. She's nostalgic for the 90s. She wears god-awful crocs and yells at her cat. She's in a fake-relationship with a random Prince because she "felt bad" and hooks herself up to fracking pods every night because she clings to the past like it's all she has. Valkyrie tethers her to real life... shows her that healing is possible and encourages her to open herself up to others again, even if it hurts.

To me, both pairings are beautiful. Both are valid. Both have their place in discussions, fanworks, and canon, and in everything I write, I aim to treat them with love, respect, and devotion.

Because these three women absolutely deserve it.

[nicomoon69]

watching a video abt queer comic characters 😁😁 they start talking abt how tim and kon should’ve ended up together 😞😞

[witchqueenvisenya]

Finally watched Dune 1 and 2 and I wish everyone who ever compared Paul to Daenerys is ingested by a sandworm like people will see any bitch with semi good hair commanding people and think they're Dany. Literally just based on nothing but wanting to justify Game of Thrones the absolute mother of all bad adaptations.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Just so we clear: playing You Should See Me In A Crown just because Billy is now wearing a magic crown like his mom (btw rip his crown from comics we losing on a general magic users and Thor nerd here) is definitely among the cringy moments the MCU has done.

[benjinoff13]

from what i’ve seen from secret invasion i’m so scared they’re only gonna use maria for nick’s character development and i’m so nervous about this 

[liaswritesrobots]

More pride icons!

Headcanon: Windblade is a lesbian!

[raywritesthings]

Also what in the Tony Stark have they done to the sonic screwdriver

[noys-boise]

remember when Howard the duck was a protagonist? when he was allowed to have his own story instead of being a joke character in mcu movies? remember when he actually had compelling relationships instead of marrying darcy lewis in an alternate universe as a joke? i feel like I'm going crazy

[deanpinterester]

i know we all know this by now but any time you go into the post of a popular post u come to the realization wow. a lot of people get so mad they forget how to read

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 11

#11- Medieval Treatment

“Hey, Peter,” Ned called out into the boy’s locker room, “Are you still in here?”

Peter groaned from the stall he was currently sitting in. “Yeah,” he called out. “Can you tell everyone I’m sorry and to start without me?” Peter shifted in discomfort. “I’m definitely gonna be a bit longer.”

“Aw, man. That sucks.”

“I know.” Peter whined. “I don’t get it, Ned! Since the...  you know...” Peter’s voice dropped low for that part, “My stomach is just—” Peter tried to find the right word but, as though being summoned by its mere mentioning, Peter’s stomach gurgled. “fucked.” His face flushed red, not that anyone could see it. “Just go, Ned. You don’t want to be in here for this. I’ll come out when I can.”

Peter heard a couple of shuffled steps come closer, and then, “Have you thought about talking to Mr. Stark about this?”

Peter’s face flushed even more. “Yeah, that’s a hard pass. Gosh. He hardly talks to me now?! Can you imagine that call? Hi, Mr. Stark, it’s Peter Parker. So my tummy is rumbly and— oh gaw—” Cramps flashed like lightening across Peter’s abdomen. “Please go, Ned. We’ll talk later!”

“Got it,” Ned replied and hurried away, wishing he could figure out how to help his best friend, but at a complete loss.

The worry must have still shown on Ned’s face as he re-entered the gymnasium because before he could even make his way across the gymnasium, Abe had looked over to him and piped up, “Uh, oh. Something’s wrong.”

Mr. Harrington shushed everyone’s whispering with a look, but their attention still shifted as Ned walked over to the group. Ned kept his focus on Mr. Harrington. “Uh, Peter’s sorry, sir, but he’ll be a little late. He says he doesn’t think we should wait for him and to just get started.”

Mr. Harrington had picked up on the concern. “Oh, dear, should I go check on him?” he asked quietly.

But Ned knew better. “I think he just needs some time to work things out?” he replied awkwardly. How would one convey that his best friend’s digestive system was rebelling in the most horrible way imaginable for no reason that Ned could share? “He, uh, probably wants to be alone for it, you know?”

Mr. Harrington looked sympathetic. “Okay, then. I can respect that.” The teacher then turned away from Ned, and clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Alrighty, Aca Deca! Let’s turn our brains on to maximum output and get this practice started. Captain, the floor is yours.”

And just like that, everyone moved on.

It took longer than he’d hoped, but Peter joined everyone about twenty minutes into the hour long practice, looking pale and shaky enough that even Flash bit his tongue and left well enough alone.

Mr. Harrington cast a questioning glance at him, but Peter gave him a quick nod of assurance and practice was back on track.

Ned, however, needed to hear the words for himself, “Are you going to be okay, Peter?” Ned leaned over to whisper once Peter had sat himself tentatively in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Peter answered back softly. “I’m just gonna get through this and then head home and lie down for a bit.” He huffed a little laugh. “There are some soda crackers in the cupboard I’m praying my stomach won’t totally hate me for.”

Ned cringed, nodded, and gave Peter an awkward shoulder pat in support. What else could he do?

MJ cleared her throat and glared at the pair.

Peter must have looked really bad if MJ was letting their chatter slide with nothing more than that.

Crap.

It was all they could do to turn their focus fully to MJ and the remainder of the rapid fire Q & A that she’d prepped for their practice. It wouldn’t have done Peter or Ned any good to have MJ murder them for not focussing when those crackers were suddenly sounding so good.

Finally the last buzzer had been buzzed and the lot of them had proven their worth to MJ once more. To say that Peter was relieved that he’d redeemed himself with his responses was an understatement, especially after the debacle in D.C. Peter was determined to prove his worth—if only his stupid stomach would cooperate.

“Come on, buddy. I’ll walk you home, okay?” Ned patted gently him on the back and picked up both of their backpacks. Peter nodded and started the shuffle toward the gymnasium doors.

“Hey, guys, wait up a sec!” Betty Brandt had been speaking to Charles across the gym, it seemed, but called out to them as she bolted toward them before they could exit. “Peter! I wanted to talk to you!”

Both of the boys glanced at each other questioningly and stopped in their tracks.

“Oh! Good! Thanks!” Betty smiled brightly. “I’m not going to take long, I know you’re not feeling great. I just—” Betty, it seemed, had just realized what she had planned to say, “Oh, gosh. It’s just that we- I mean, I’ve noticed that you’re having some ‘stomach issues,’” Betty blurted, “and my uncle is a chiropractor, so...”

Peter was tired enough from all of the discomfort and overall grossness of what his life had become that he almost wasn’t bothered by her slip of the tongue and the newfound awareness that everyone was talking about this... subject... almost. Peter blushed, but needed to cut her off. “Uh. No offense, Betty, but what does my back have to do with my...” He couldn’t help but be suspicious.

“Well, my uncle took a couple of extra courses about nutrition and such and he swears that if you drink apple cider vinegar every day, it will help to regulate your digestive system. Like, in your stomach and intestines and all that. He explained it to me, and I was looking over my biology notes last night and, well, the science works in theory so I thought that maybe it was worth mentioning? Or you could maybe do some reading, too, I guess? Check it out?”

“Uh, thanks,” Peter smiled weakly. “We’ll definitely do that.” Peter looked at Ned then back to Betty. “So, uh, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Betty grinned big, obviously pleased with herself for performing her good deed for the day. “Awesome! See you tomorrow!” She nodded at Peter in farewell, then grinned even bigger for Ned, “I’ll see you, too, right?”

Ned shrugged, “Yeah, sure,” then hooked his arm through Peter’s and ushered them both away.

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” Ned whispered when he knew they were far enough away that Betty wouldn’t hear them. “I’m feeling like I’m missing something... it wasn’t just me, right?”

Peter chuckled. “Oh, that was weird, all right, but I wanna know if she was right about the—” Peter’s forehead scrunched as he tried to remember what exactly Betty had suggested. Focussing for MJ decathlon was one thing, but Betty had been a bit of an unexpected blur after the stomach talk. “I know she mentioned apples and vinegar?”

“That’s about all I got out of it, too,” Ned pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up a search engine as they walked, “Huh? Cool beans! Apparently vinegar was used to treat the black plague during medieval times. It had to do with balancing the humours and all that sort of stuff.” Ned hefted the two backpacks he still carried a little higher then started scrolling down the page. “I need to look into becoming a chiropractor! This is straight out of D&D, Pete!”

Peter’s stomach did a warning lurch. “That doesn’t sound too promising.”

“I hear you, man, but Betty did say she checked it out and she is the go-to for bio notes. You know that computers are my thing. Anything else is gobbledygook until I have to study for a quiz... and then I go to Betty!” Ned thrust his phone in front of Peter, “But here. You can read the article while we walk and you can tell me what you want to do.”

Peter pushed Ned’s phone back towards him. “I just want to go home, crawl in a corner, and die.” Peter replied. His stomach swooped and he looked to see how close he was to home. “You know what, Ned?” Peter suddenly didn’t have time to waste. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, yanked out three one dollar bills, and passed them over to Ned. “That’s all the cash I’ve got. Gimme the backpacks. I’m gonna head back to my place before I become the stereotypical New Yorker. Please, Ned, just... I can’t take this anymore. Go find somewhere that sells vinegar. If it’s more than three dollars, I’ll pay you back when I get my next allowance.” Peter was on borrowed time. He took both of the backpacks and started walking faster. He couldn’t wait for an answer. The discussion was over. “Don’t forget about the apples! Thanks, man. I owe you!” And Peter was off.

/-/-/

It was only thirty minutes later that Ned arrived at the door to the Parker apartment carrying his bounty and executed his special knock.  

“Hey, Ned. It’s open.”

Ned frowned as he came in. “Dude? Come on! I get that you’re Spider-Man, but this is still the city,” he chastised his friend as he walked past the couch, into the kitchen, and pulled open the cabinet door hiding the glasses. “What if I’d walked in and decided to murder you dead—” Ned grabbed a glass and turned, intending to head to the dining room table, but caught sight of his friend. “Peter?”

“Hey,” Peter dragged himself up off the couch he’d been lying on. “You were way faster than I thought you’d be.”

Ned couldn’t take his eyes off of Peter, who had shucked his bulky sweatshirt, long sleeved tee, and jeans in exchange for a plain black tee and sweats. How had Ned not noticed that he’d started to lose weight? “Dude?” Ned was more than worried now. “Are you sure we shouldn’t call Mr. Stark? I’m starting to feel like—”

Peter frowned. “I already told you, he doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“But—”

“No!”

“But, Peter! Something’s wrong!”

“Yah! And we’re trying to fix it! So did you find the vinegar or not?”

Ned nodded. “Uh huh.” He lifted up his arm to show the plastic bag hanging off his wrist. “Mr. Delmar had some hiding on a shelf somewhere in the stockroom. When I told him it was for you, he went and dug it out.”

Peter’s dulled eyes brightened. “Awesome! And the apples?”

“One apple, and it is also in the bag,” Ned walked the last steps to their dinner table and placed the bag and Peter’s three dollars in front of him. “AND it was all free of charge, so you know. Mr. Delmar said the vinegar is about to hit its best before and he wasn’t gonna be able to sell it anyways, and he says you need to eat more fruit and vegetables so the apple’s on him.”

Peter smiled wider. “He’s so amazing. I’ll be sure to say thanks the next time I go get a sandwich.”

Ned didn’t say anything else as he pulled the dusty bottle of vinegar and the apple out of the bag, but there was no hiding the fact that he was second guessing this. “Maybe I should read another article before we get started?”

Peter frowned at the hesitation, “C’mon, Ned. How bad can it be? It’s vinegar. It’s in practically everything we eat... and I’m guessing the apple is to, like, get the taste out of your mouth?”

Ned shrugged. “Makes sense, but...” he moved to pull his phone out of his pocket.

Peter crossed his arms, getting frustrated. “Stop it, Ned. This’ll be fine.”

Ned crossed his arms, getting frustrated, too. “This could also be so bad, though.”

Peter tried to crook an eyebrow. (He was still working on perfecting that particular skill.) “How’s about this—” Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket and placed it on the table next to their supplies. “As a precaution, if something goes wrong, you have official permission to try calling Mr. Stark. I am telling you that nothing will go wrong—but if it does... it’s not like he answers now, so.” Peter shrugged.

Ned did manage to crook his own eyebrow. (As the Guy-in-the-Chair, he had more downtime to work on it.) “I hear you... and if he doesn’t answer, I’ll call Aunt May’s cell and pray for mercy. What is Mr. Stark listed as in your phone... just so I’m ready.”

“Currently?” Peter attempted another eyebrow crook, paused for effect, and answered, “Dr. Dolittle.”

 Ned exhaled slow and loud. “That’s deep, dude.”

“I know,” Peter looked impressed with himself. “But we can talk about that later. I’m ready to get on the path to—what did you say it was? Balancing my humours?” Peter grabbed the bottle of vinegar and twisted the cap open. “Phew,” Peter’s eyes watered as the vapours escaped into the air. “Maybe we’re supposed to mix it with the apple instead?” He wondered aloud, then poured a small measure into the glass. “I think Aunt May picked up some juice boxes?”

Ned walked back over to the kitchen, already knowing exactly where they would be if there was, indeed, apple juice. “Aha!” He shouted out in victory. “One brand spanky new pack of ten apple juice boxes. Dude, your aunt is a goddess!” Ned pulled out a single juice box, set the remainder on the counter, and returned, triumphant.

“I know,” Peter smiled, “now hand that over.” He made grabby hands, “I’m so over this.”

“I’ve got you, Pete,” Ned removed the straw from its plastic and poked the box open. “Do you think a one-to-one ratio would be best?” Ned asked as he squeezed the juice through the tiny hole and added it to the vinegar.

“Did it say anything about it on your phone?”

Ned shook his head, ‘no.’ “Not that I saw?”

“Well then, let’s start with that and see what happens.”

“If you’re sure...?” Ned was looking hesitant.

“Sure that I’m ready for this to be over? Absolutely.” Peter picked up the glass and gave it a swirl. “Think I can do this all in one go?”

Ned cringed at the thought of actually consuming the concoction, “For the sake of your taste buds, I sure hope so.”

“Me, too.” Peter took a couple of deep breaths, mentally preparing himself before one last thought came to him, “Oh! If I die, you can have my Funko Pop collection, okay?”

“PETER!” Ned hollered at him, “Don’t even joke about that!”

Peter snorted laughed, “Okay, I’ll haunt you and Betty instead.” With a final nod, Peter exhaled, raised his glass to Ned, smiled, and downed the glass in one great gulp...

And then everything went to hell.

/-/-/

Peter came back to himself all at once.

And by all at once, he meant it was with an attempt at a deeper than normal breath once he’d apparently been taken off the ventilator. Instead of relief, he struggled to breathe through a coughing fit for the ages, while wondering how he’d been made to swallow glass while simultaneously drinking gasoline and then setting his stomach on fire.

“ugh.” Peter rasped, then curled into a ball—well, he tried to. The tugs of the IV line and various monitors stopped him in his tracks, and that was when he remembered his everything in a flash of jumbled memories, “Oh.”

Even the click of the leather heel of Mr. Stark’s shoes sounded fancier in what Peter could guess what the medical floor of... somewhere? “Oh?” Mr. Stark came up to Peter’s bedside. “That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

“Uh. I guess vinegar’s bad?” Crap, did his throat hurt.

Mr. Stark laughed, “Yeah, you can say that again.”

Peter rubbed at his throat and shook his head, “Nope.”

The brief look of amusement on Mr. Stark’s face shifted into one of regret, “Kid...” Mr. Stark shifted from one foot to another as he tried to come up with something to say, then finally spoke again, “I think I owe you an apology.”

Peter blinked in confusion. “Wha—?”

“No! Please. Stop talking before Dr. Cho kills me for messing up what’s healed so far. Just...” Mr. Stark sighed. “Please know that realize now that I should have been around more to help you out with... things. And I especially should have made myself available for you when you starting having issues with your mutation. I’m so sorry.”

Peter frowned and opened up his mouth to speak again when Mr. Stark stopped him. “Wait, really! Let me get something for you to...” he glanced around the room, but found nothing, so he pulled his own phone out of his pocket and opened up a blank screen. “Just, no talking. Type... please?”

Peter typed, fumbled a bit in his exhaustion, backspaced, then typed some more before eventually handing the phone back to the man. “Does have something to do with the whole spider thing? Am I dying?”

Mr. Stark almost choked as he read Peter’s words aloud, “No. Why would you think you were dying?!”

Peter put his hand out for the phone. He typed back, “You’re THE Tony Stark—and apologizing?!”

Mr. Stark’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Well, yeah. When my asshole ways almost get you killed because I can’t be bothered to answer your calls... I can admit that I screwed up. AND,” Mr. Stark kept going, “I’m going to do better. While Pepper won’t let me buy back the tower, I am going to set up a base camp of sorts, somewhere closer to home so when things go to shit, we don’t need to fly you outside of the city via the Iron Man express to get help for emergencies.”

“WHAT?!” Peter couldn’t help his reaction, but wished he had as the pain flared enough that his eyes watered.

“Whoa, kid, relax... deep breaths! You’re okay... just breathe.” Mr. Stark instructed as Peter tried to get the pain under control. “That’s it.” He’d obviously had little experience in comforting, but he was trying, even as he rubbed Peter’s back.

“Peter?” A younger voice called out from somewhere behind him. “Mr. Stark? Is he awake?” Ned popped up beside Mr. Stark. “Oh, thank god! I thought we’d killed you! Did Mr. Stark tell you about it all yet? It was like out of a horror movie, man, blood spewing everywhere! And vinegar! Did you know that vinegar kills spiders? And peppermint? And cinnamon? And lemon! Dude! Everything you were eating was making you sick! Did Mr. Stark tell you about that? Man, oh, man! Good luck finding something to eat at the cafeteria now...” Ned finally trailed off once he noticed both Peter and Mr. Stark staring at him in awe.

“Did you even take a breath there?” Mr. Stark had to ask.

Ned just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a gift.”

“Well, I was just about to tell Peter,” Mr. Stark brought his attention back to the boy in the bed. “That we’re going to do some testing before we send you home so you and your aunt can keep you safe. Okay? If that means that I have to hire you a private chef to make you specialized meals, then so be it, but for now, we’re gonna keep things super simple and wait on your gut to heal a little more before we go too crazy.”

Peter nodded, then picked up the sound of a woman’s footsteps coming down the hall.

Oh, no.

Peter’s brain flew into survival mode. He frantically tapped something out on the phone. “ned howdid you ge there”

“Oh, yeah.” Ned was pickin’ up what Peter was layin’ down. “Mr. Stark grabbed you, and then Aunt May and I came together in her car and, uh...”

Peter knew he shouldn’t have put it off, but he hadn’t wanted to worry her with anything else and he had it all under control until they’d decided to...

Even Ned looked nervous, and he’s had a head start! “Yeah. Sorry, Peter. She knows about everything... and she’s pissed.”

[peterbwatsonparker]

things that annoy me about fanon portrayal of peter parker #1265

inability to properly portray his superpowers and also skills. guys. guys. why is he getting knocked around by like. 5 run of the mill crooks. guys. why did he break his arm falling a grand total of two stories. guys. how is he actually getting beat up getting hit by sir normal ass man. guys. why is he seriously out of commission for over a week.

just say the only powers you remember are wall crawling and spider sense and go

[dayisfading]

im watching legend of korra which is not as bad as i remember and iroh just showed up in the spirit world and i started sobbing IMMEDIATELY