#I love drawing peter as a complete dweeb

[jasperlore]

More Peter doodles and Matt and Foggy lmao Me and my bestie have decided that peter is dating both wade and matt, but wade and matt arent together :3c bc we're silly like that

[soybeantree]

revenant

pairing: grimreaper!do kyungsoo x cemeteryworker!(reader) genre/warning: eventual fluff  word count: 2k+ description:  the surplus of spoopy ghost dramas as of late brought this little gem around. totally normal for a paranormal story in january, right?  a/n: january installment of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. hana promises that there will be a part 2 because b if there ain’t imma flip. she loves the angsty cliff-hangers. i HATE them. - em

Your mother always said the benefits to living in a rich city were innumerable. That’s a bit strong of an adjective, but you can agree that there are many benefits. You have access to great shops and great food, top rated schools, and the city is beautiful. Every building, street, and sign look like they were plucked from some children’s book. The city officials take great pride in the city’s appearance. Too much pride though, which is why you’re waking up at 9:30 in the evening for your 10:00 shift at the cemetery. The cemetery is one of the city’s top tourist attractions. The above ground mausoleums, the grand tombstones dating back centuries, they draw in countless visitors each day. As such, the city officials expend great effort and money to maintain the grounds and keep the stone gleaming. However, since appearance is everything, the cemetery’s caretakers, aka you, your father, and your grandmother before him, must only work at night. After all, what tourist wants to see a sweaty, mud-begrimed worker pushing a cart around the cemetery?

Despite the ridiculousness of the arrangement, you enjoy working at night. Grabbing a beanie, you pull it over your ears as you head out. A thin fog is your only companion as you walk the short distance to the cemetery’s back entrance. The lack of tourist makes your work easier and more bearable. If you had to do double duty as caretaker and tour guide, many tourists would find a new home in a mausoleum. Another benefit is the hefty paycheck. The extra money though is due less to working at night and more to the fact that the cemetery is haunted. Heading towards your tool shed, which is cleverly disguised as a mausoleum, you pass several spirits. The newer ones acknowledge you with a nod while the older ones wander by lost to themselves. During your school days, your classmates gave you a wide berth. They held the ignorant opinion that spirits followed you to school. However at that point, they would have had to follow your dad home then attached themselves to you then follow you to school. None of which made any sense. Ghosts rarely travel far from their resting place. Explaining that to your schoolmates though was a waste of breath, so you stopped. The caretaker position became yours by default. You went away for a few years after college, but real world jobs are too boring. When you came back, the city council all but kissed your feet. The slew of caretakers who came in after your father retired had lasted only days at a time. The cemetery was a mess. The city council was at its wits end. You could have asked for anything. In the end, you settled for the fat paycheck and complete autonomy. Pulling out your cart, you begin your work. The fog slips through the cemetery obscuring the paths and adding to the whole eerie haunted vibe. Your feet know the pathways, and you hum to yourself as you walk. On today’s “to do” list, you have polishing the mausoleums by the eastern entrance. Some city council dweeb had complained that they looked weathered and dingy. You wish he had said it to your face rather than hide behind an email, but he was probably too chicken-livered to step foot within the cemetery. “Good evening, caretaker.” The singsong voice grates against your ears. You stop in front of the first marble facade and pull a rag and polish out of your cart. “What has fouled your mood? Receive another rejection from a suitor?” “I’d have to have a suitor to be rejected by one.” You grunt as you crouch down to start on the base of the first column. “True.” She giggles. The ghost hovers beside you, the hem of her ethereal gown brushing against your cheek. You sneeze. “What has soured your mood then?” Sighing, you stand and move to the top of the column. With a huff, she floats to your other side and folds her hands in front of her. She glances over her shoulder then back at you. “The cemetery is awful quiet tonight.” You skirt around her as you move onto the next column. Beside the few specters you passed when you arrived, you have yet to meet another of the cemetery’s occupants since beginning your work. “Have you no curiosity for the cemetery’s silence?” “I assume it’s because Mrs. King started on about her grandkids again.” “Indeed not.” She simpers, peering at you from the columns other side. You divert your attention to your task, scrubbing an obstinate stain. Clearing her throat, she continues. “Mr. Long in plot 112 has gone malevolent.” Your hand stills. In addition to the high pay and freedom from human interaction, there is a third benefit to working nights at the cemetery. Arguably the best benefit, and one of the main reasons you returned. Of all the days to roll out of bed and throw on clothes, it had to be today. Yesterday, you had showered and worn decent clothing, not the stained cargo pants and t-shirt which you pulled from your laundry basket. You groan and toss your rag into the cart, fighting the urge to kick one of the wheels. Your work boots would easily protect your toes, but you’d rather not give your companion the satisfaction of seeing how deeply her news affects you. She smiles smugly at you. “I’m sure a reaper will take care of Mr. Long. You might want to make yourself scarce. I’d hate for the reaper to see you and take you with Mr. Long.” “Surely, you know which reaper has come.” She floats through the column to hover beside you. Often during your life, you have wished for the ability to slap a ghost. Today, the wish twitches your fingers, but you keep your hand by your side. Only reapers can touch ghosts. Of course, you know which reaper has come. The cemetery has a single reaper assigned to maintain order. He was in charge even before your grandmother’s time. His name is or was Kyungsoo. All your grandmother and father would say about him was that he was the cemetery’s Reaper, and it was best to leave him to work in peace. Which would be easy, if you hadn’t developed a crush on him when you were four. “Mr. Long is the first malevolent spirit since you started, correct? Which would mean this is the first time Reaper Kyungsoo has made his appearance?” Her smile widens. “How many years have passed since last you saw him? Surely, you wish to renew your acquaintance.” “Surely, you wish to mind your own damn business.” You hiss. Of all the damn ghosts to witness the first time you met Kyungsoo, it would have to be this bitch. She chuckles, and you shake your head. Stupid. However, now there’s no point in pretending you don’t care. Leaving the cart and your responsibilities behind, you race across the cemetery to plot 112.

-

A malevolent spirit is frightening to anyone who hasn’t grown up around ghosts. The normally human-appearing spirit transforms into a towering demon. There’s a lot of ear-splitting screeching and gusts of wind which dig into the ground spraying rocks and dirt into the air, and an overwhelming sense of dread fills your chest and tugs at fear. However, growing up around ghosts, you learn when you should be afraid and when the malevolent spirit is just a pissy, windbag. Mr. Long is the later. Sitting on the tombstone of a spirit who long ago passed into the beyond, you watch the skirmish between spirit and reaper. Kyungsoo rushes forward scythe in hand. His black robes billow out behind him as he leaps forward. The scythe slices through Mr. Long as he passes him. A final screech peters to a whimper as Mr. Long returns to himself. Kyungsoo lands, spinning the moment his feet touch ground. He faces his opponent, his scythe posed behind him, ready for the next swing. Mr. Long stares forlornly at the reaper then at the mess he has made of his burial site. He whimpers again. The sound tugs at your heart strings. While you are the one who will have to put the area to rights, you sympathize for the spirit. He’s new to the cemetery, two years in the grave. You didn’t know him when he was alive, and you haven’t spent much time around him since he arrived. However, you know his grave marker cost less than two hundred and that he never has flowers placed on it. He stands beside it during the day, staring at the cemetery’s entrance. Kyungsoo relaxes his stance. His scythe disappears as he steps forward. From this distance, you fail to hear the exchange between reaper and spirit, but you can see the relief in Mr. Long’s shoulders. A reaper’s duty is to ferry the dead to their final resting place and protect the living from the dead. Kyungsoo will allow Mr. Long to remain in the world of the living and will not resort to drastic measures to protect the living. You’ve heard of reapers who decimate a malevolent spirit without a thought. Kyungsoo has never been like that. Even that first time you met him, he brought the spirit back to sanity. Back then, you had thought he was some kind of superhero. He appeared from nowhere and rescued you and the monster. The conversation ends, and Mr. Long disappears to wherever ghost go. You asked both you grandmother and father where ghosts go when they disappear from the living world. Both blustered without giving a satisfactory explanation. You assume they go rest in their graves. “You’ve returned.” The voice is soft like the footsteps which brought it near you. Glancing up, you find Kyungsoo standing a few feet from you. Your heart quickens and rises through your throat, blocking all words. So you nod. “I am happy to know your family will continue to oversee the cemetery. The caretakers after your father had no place here.” Your head bobs along as you force your heart back into your chest. “I guess not everyone is cut out to work with the dead.” He smiles, and your heart rises once again. You cough and look away. “Your father is well?” You nod, keeping your eyes on the rows of tombstones. “He retired to a beach somewhere.” In a whisper, you ask, “My grandmother?” “She passed beyond when she died. I saw her off well.” As you had thought, your grandmother wasn’t one to linger in the living world. She had done her work and been satisfied with her life. “I look forward to working with you.” His words nearly force your heart from your body. You choke on it, falling off your perch from the violence of your hacking. “Are you unwell?” He crouches before you ensuring you meet his gaze. “Fine.” You croak as you push yourself off the ground and put distance between you two. “I also look forward to working with you. Not that I hope you come a lot because malevolent spirits are bad, but also when you do come I won’t be mad.” Your words peter out, and you wish you could have choked again. Kyungsoo maintains the distance you set, his lips curving down into a pout as you rambled. “Thank you for helping Mr. Long. I’ll take extra care to check on him.” You swerve the conversation. His lips turn up into a soft smile. He glances behind him at plot 112. “He is a good man and will find peace if he allows himself.” When his attention returns to you, you can feel the charge in his eyes. A caretaker’s job is more than maintaining the cemetery’s appearance. The truest duty is held within the title. You must take care of the spirits and help them on their way. You nod. “Thank you.” He bows his head. “I must be going.” In the next instant, the space before you is empty. You remain staring at that space, a forgotten smile on your lips. “I am beginning to understand your lack of suitors.” Your smile sours. You really wish you could slap a ghost.

[fishy12233]

Chronicles of Sturgia

Prologue Part 1: “The Garbled Gossip”

In order for a story to make sense, the reader must know who the main characters are. After all, the main characters are the ones who drive the story. Imagine a middle school cafeteria, bustling with chatter, like a theater before the show. The cafeteria is bright and cheery with its checkered floor and artistic walls. Hundreds of children are chattering at once, some talking about the newest member in a famous band; others are talking about mysterious rumors of aliens, but everyone knows rumors like that are only real in comic books and movies. The chatter continues, an endless garble of noise. Anyone in the cafeteria can see a variety of different students. Six girls walking by while wearing coordinated outfits, a typical guy surrounded by his strange friends, a girl who chooses to doodle on her tablet by herself. However, none of them are our main characters.

As lunch begins, a girl sits down at an empty table with her lunch. Her name is Maddie, and she is the first of our six main characters. She wears a school uniform in a school that doesn’t require school uniforms and has a poppy in her hair. Her eyes are dark, mysterious, and a little sleepy, though her left eye is partially covered by her one-sided bangs. Maddie prefers to spend her time reading spooky novels or playing spooky video games. Her lunch is chopped beef with a slice of devil’s food cake on the side. Maddie isn’t the one who talks very much at her table, but when discussing her interests, she takes full control of the conversation. During an everyday conversation, Maddie is the type of person who tends to listen and observe. This is great for Maddie since she always knows exactly what type of gifts to give her friends on their birthdays.

The chatter continues. Sometimes, when you listen closely, you can listen in on gossip. This can tell someone a lot about what others think of them. Gossip isn’t always the best form of entertainment. But passing students continue to eavesdrop nonetheless.

“Did you see Maddie? She’s so elegant and graceful!”

“She’s like everyone’s big sister. They shouldn’t need to be so dependant on her! She acts like some concerned mom sometimes.”

“But she’s a total goth too! Have you seen her clothes? She looks like she came right out of boarding school! I bet that she’s secretly a witch or something.”

The children continue with their daily routine. The coordinated girls eat healthy salads. A nerdy girl talks to her friends, making sassy remarks with a deadpan voice. Meanwhile, a bratty kid is playing pranks on other people. But none of them are our main characters.

A second girl sits down to eat with Maddie. Her name is Susan. She’s Maddie’s little sister and her total opposite. Susan wears a purple A-line dress with pink flowers on it and keeps a white lily in her hair. She also wears black stockings and flowery shoes. Her eyes are bright, happy, and excited. Susan loves cute things, especially cute things from Japan. She likes doing things like watching cute anime or buying cute plushies. Susan makes her own Japanese bento lunch, complete with octopus sausages and onigiri. But sometimes, Susan decides to go all out and create a cute and elaborate bento lunch with cute characters and a large variety of food. When Susan first saw how cute bento boxes could be, her eyes sparkled with awe. She saved up her allowance so that she could buy her own genuine bento box. Her friends always love her bento box designs and ask her if she could make lunch for them. Susan is extroverted, which in this case means she loves to talk, but is overly dependant on others and sometimes comes off as rude and annoying. Anyone who calls Susan annoying isn’t her friend. During an everyday conversation, Susan is the type of person who gets distracted by her surroundings and always carries the conversation. Susan truly cares about her friends, but always forgets things like their birthdays. Fortunately, she has her sister Maddie to help her remember.

The garbled gossip goes on and on. Everyone wonders what people think of them. They get self-conscious and anxious just thinking about it. Gossip is always behind one's back, but it’s not always well hidden.

“Have you seen Susan? OMG! She’s soooo cute!”

“She may be cute, but she’s annoying. Why can’t she just leave us alone? She should just go back to relying on her sister for everything.”

“She’s also a total weeb! Susan is so into anime and cutesy stuff, it’s sickening! Also also, she totally copied my style!”

While the peanut gallery rambled on, the kids kept eating their lunch. One of the coordinated girls finishes eating and walks over to another table to talk to her other friends. A snarky girl who looks rather similar to Susan gossips and acts as if the leader of her group, even though she’s not. Meanwhile, two sisters and their friend talk about the latest horror movies. But none of them are our main characters.

A third kid sits at the table with the sisters. This time, the kid is a boy named Peter. He wears a propeller hat and a shirt with a smiley face and blue-and-yellow-striped sleeves. Peter also wears a heavy backpack, filled with a ton of schoolwork, his lunch, a bunch of colorful yo-yos, some robot parts from the robotics club, and a huge album of trading cards. His eyes are simple, yet optimistic and determined. Peter likes geeky things like robots and trading cards. He always has the coolest toys. His favorite food is ground beef and rice with ketchup that his mom makes for him. During lunch, he also likes to have a grilled cheese and pizza bagels alongside the beef to share with friends. Peter and his friends love to trade and share their lunches. Peter is outgoing and friendly but sometimes is too distracted with building robots to talk. During an everyday conversation, Peter is cool with listening to others talk, but he can easily carry a conversation if needed. People like talking to him because conversations with him are never boring.

The students continue to talk incessantly. Not everyone who talks with friends is a gossip. Sadly, many girls tend to be labeled as gossips just for being outgoing. The saying, “It takes one to know one,” definitely rings true here.

“Peter’s kind of cute. He looks really cool with his gadgets and toys!”

“Are you kidding me? Peter’s a DWEEB!”

“Geez, shut up! Takes one to know one, dweeb.”

Lunch continues on. The coordinated girl and one of her friends decide to do their friend’s hair in wacky hairstyles. A cooler girl sits with the snarky girl that looks like Susan and chat about other people. The bratty kid gets into an argument with some other students. But none of them are our main characters.

A girl named Lisa, the fourth friend, sits at the lunch table. She wears a large tie-dye shirt and worn bell-bottoms. Lisa wears way too many bracelets and keeps her curly dyed hair up in two large pigtails with scrunchies. Her eyes have more makeup than her friends’, which makes them look more flashy. Lisa likes doing fun things like having parties and playing dolls. She likes playing dress-up and usually likes having sleepovers with Peter. Sometimes, Peter and Lisa would play shovelware games and laugh at them during their sleepovers.

Lisa always likes to sneak candy into her lunch, which usually has fun, bizarre food. She always trades food with Peter. Lisa is chatty but very kind, even to people who don’t like her. During an everyday conversation, Lisa is usually the one to start it. She always talks about the latest trends, but Lisa always gets bored from running out of things that she wants to talk about. Lisa knows that people think she’s a girly gossip, but she really wants to get rid of that view people have on her so that she can live a more free life.

The chatter continues. Some people don’t really care about gossip. They’re the smart ones, ignoring others’ opinions and focusing on being themselves. Like a stone wall, harsh words don’t get through to them. But even a stone wall wears down over time.

“You know Lisa right? That weird girl with the flashy accessories?”

“Yeah, what’s her deal anyway? Who’s she tryin’ to impress?”

“I heard that it’s Peter, they always hang out together. What losers!”

Lunch continues, but there are still some students waiting in line for their food. The sister of the girl with the wacky hairstyle writes in her journal while listening to emotional music. While the girl who looks like Susan continues to gossip, the true leader of her friend group sits quietly. She writes poetry and hums a familiar song. The girl with the tablet continues to sit alone and draw in peace. But none of these students are our main characters.

A fifth student sits with Maddie, Susan, Peter, and Lisa. She is carrying a tray piled with food along with her lunch box. Her name is Annie, and she’s wearing a faux raccoon tail hat and a worn plaid shirt with worn jeans. Annie’s eyes are stern but friendly. She’s a tough girl who loves camping and tasty food. Her dad has taken her out hiking and fishing countless times. She’ll eat anything for lunch. She loves meat, and is always down for eating out. Annie’s eyes are much larger than her stomach. This always results in Annie leaving lunch too full and having lots of leftovers to give to her friends. But she doesn’t really mind. Annie volunteers at the local food bank every day, which gives her the opportunity to donate any extra food that she’s gathered during lunch. From time to time, Annie’s friends also volunteer at the food bank. Annie is strong and motivating, but can be insensitive at times. During an everyday conversation, Annie always finds a way to brighten someone’s day. She tends to rush through life, but her friends help her to slow down and appreciate the world around her more.

Almost everyone has settled down to eat. Many students have already finished their lunch. But the chatter is louder than ever. In the end, others’ opinions don’t matter. But even still, when a person spends too much time taunting people and belittling friendship, they get annoying. People start ignoring them and getting bored of them. Sometimes, one has to wonder if that person turned out well.

“Do you know Annie?”

“Yeah, she’s that tomboy. What’s her deal?”

“She can be so insensitive, giving false motivation. What a hypocrite.”

Lunch begins to close. Students are finishing their food and packing up. The coordinated girls reunite and begin heading back to class. The strange friends of the regular guy begin finishing up, but still chatter. Everyone else, including the bratty kid and the artistic girl, throw out their trash and begin to leave. But none of them are our main characters.

Before lunch begins to end, one last person sits with his friends. He arrives at the table with Annie. His name was Chris. Chris is considered a nerd. He wears large glasses, a bowtie with a school uniform, and has his hair slicked back. Chris is shorter than his friends. He’s a studious kid who loves reading and math. Chris was the last to join his friend group. When he first joined, he was apprehensive. He was too scared to ask them to let him join their group. But what he wanted more than anything else was to have a group of friends he could be a part of. He simply needed to build up his courage. His lunch normally consists of hard boiled eggs, tuna, and salty crackers. Chris is kind, but is also shy and awkward. During an everyday conversation, Chris is the type of person who listens, but really wants to speak. He may be shy, but he has his friends to take care of him and help him become more social.

The cafeteria is almost empty, but the chatter still lingers. The students walk back to class, yet our six main characters still remain, being the last ones to pack up and leave. In the end, gossip doesn't matter. Only your own actions matter. In the future, things may get better. Sometimes, it doesn't get better. The best we can do is make the best of it. But we must also strive to improve our lives for the better.

“You know Chris, right?”

“Who?”

“The kid who always follows Annie around. He's like her minion or something.”

“Oh yeah, the egghead! He just, like, doesn't stand out to me a lot.”

Finally, everyone leaves, heading back to class and taking their noisy chatter with them. The garbled gossip fades away, leaving the cafeteria empty. But just because lunch is over doesn’t mean that the story is. A show always begins on an empty stage. Just like a play, the story is only just beginning...

[psychicrunawaybouquet-aus]

I’m back again with a tiny spideychelle fic. I really don’t proof read or beta so hopefully it’s legible...

I love these lil beans so much ughhhhhhh.

Graduation:

Something Peter had begun to view as a distant, temporary outline for his future. In his head, he would either be an avenger, or dead at the hands of Thanos before he had the chance to attend his graduation. In some ways, that’s exactly what had happened, he had been an Avenger and he had been dead, yet here he was walking up to the podium to accept his high school certificate.

The moment passed in a surreal blur as students and parents cheered, but when all the speeches were done and ceremonies performed, all Peter could think about was everyone he had lost. So he looked down at his hands and pushed through, until he looked up again and suddenly he was in front of May and stood next to Ned, all of them a little out of place from the rest of the crowd.

‘I can’t believe you still got Valedictorian.’ Ned said a little pensively. Peter honestly hadn’t even registered that he was valedictorian, he didn’t even remember getting up and receiving his plaque. Yet when he looked down into his hands, there it was along with his certificate.

‘I bet MJ is seething.’ Ned added elbowing Peter gently. Before Peter could open his mouth in response, Michelle just quite literally materialized next to May, wearing a puffy garishly pink dress and combat boots, and said.

‘I wouldn’t say seething Leeds. But don’t think I won’t be asking the school to open a non-biased enquiry into our grades. I’m fairly confident that my English marks were better then Peter’s.’ May jumped a little at MJ’s words, also clearly shocked at her sudden emergence.

Peter smiled at his tall, curly haired friend and said ‘Well I’m fairly confident that your physics and chemistry marks weren’t as strong as mine.’

No expression other than boredom crossed MJ’s face as she lazily chewed a piece of gum and said. ‘Ok loser you tell yourself that.’ And then just as quickly as she appeared she was gone. The three looking at each other, confused before Peter said ‘I’m never going to understand that girl.’ He saw Ned nod in agreement before May added thoughtfully as she shrugged ‘I like her.’

….

He thought that would probably be the last he would see of Michelle Jones and something about that thought made a little place inside his chest ache, but when he finally got home and crawled into bed, taking off his fancy suit jacket and carelessly throwing it on the floor, he noticed a small piece of folded white paper fall out of his pocket. Rising from his bed, Peter strode the small room to pick it up. It was a little scruffy but as Peter turned it over he immediately recognized the handwriting. They had shared too many study notes for him not to recognize it. ‘Dear Peter.’ it said, so he gently unfolded it and was met with a drawing, finished with vibrant red an blue colored pencil. It was him. Or more to the point in was Spider-Man, swinging from a building with a Midtown backpack on whilst holding a cat. Down the bottom was MJ’s messy scrawl, all it said was ‘From MJ.’

Peter gasped and immediately dropped the paper. MJ knows. How did she know? Why didn’t she mention it before? How long had she known? So Peter did the first thing that came to his mind, he called Ned.

He had to ring twice before his friend answered the phone.

‘What’s up man, I’m watching a movie with mom and dad?’ answered the cheery familiar voice of his friend.

‘Sorry!’ Peter exclaimed hurriedly, ‘But this is an emergency.’

‘Do you need me on the computer? I didn’t get a Karen alert?’ He asked concerned.  

‘No no,’ Peter said, ‘I’m not in the suit, but this is about Spider-Man... MJ knows.’ Peter added bluntly.

‘What? How?’ Ned asked, Peter could hear him let out a little gasp.

‘I don’t know how but I just got home, and I found that she somehow left a note in my jacket pocket. The note was just a drawing of Spider-Man and it said From MJ.’

There was a momentary silence on the other end of the phone.

‘Ok, maybe she doesn’t know, maybe she just thinks you’re a big Spider-Man fan.’ Ned said hopefully.

‘NO Ned, she knows, now I’m thinking about it I think maybe she has known for a while, she behaves strangely and sometimes offers weirdly applicable advice.’ Peter said, as he fiddled with a pen on his desk anxiously.

‘MJ is always strange I wouldn’t worry. Anyway I’m sorry Peter I have to go my parents are calling me.’ And with that he hung up the phone. ‘Damn it.’ Peter said to himself.

So he tried to go to sleep, but he couldn’t, it was too early, so he watched a movie, and played Nintendo, but still all he could think about was how on earth MJ knew. So in the end he gave up, and reached under his bed for his suit. Quickly he undressed and put it on, quietly he exited through his bedroom window and begun to swing in the direction of MJ’s house.

She only lived 3 blocks away in a small apartment, he knew because they had studied at her house before, her room was on the left side of the building, three stories up. And sure enough as he slowly and covertly scaled the building and peeked inside her window, he was met with the site the he remembered. One violently orange feature wall on the left side of the room and one seriously large and over crowded bookshelf on the right. Rather than attempt to knock on her window, Peter just checked to see if the glass pane would slide open. To his surprise it did.

He paused for a moment, considering his options. Again he peered into the room, his eyes just peeking over the windowsill. She didn’t appear to be home. Should he come back later? Or should he just crawl through the window and wait for her to come home? Not wanting to wait, his stomach churning with anxiety, he decided to just crawl through the window. He silently slid the glass pain and quickly crawled into the room. Her bed was under the window, so he landed ungracefully, causing the springs to make a squeaking noise. He froze and glanced around quickly. ‘Hey Karen.’ Peter whispered. ‘Is MJ here?’ ‘I am not sure Peter.’ Karen responded. ‘I will run a scan on the building.’ Before Karen could come back with her results the bedroom door opposite the bed swung open with a loud creak. In the door way was MJ, arms crossed, clothed in fluffy purple pants and a baggy black T-shirt. ‘Hello Peter.’ Was all she said.

Peter tripped over her bed sheets and landed in a mess on her floor at her feet. Quickly he got up, trying to recover from the embarrassing situation. Clearly he had been right, Michelle knew. So he stood in front of her and took off his mask. She looked completely unfazed to see his face, her body language still one of mild irritation and stoicism.  

‘How did you know?’ He questioned. It was then that her expression changed, her face cracking into a laugh.  

‘How did I know? The question is how am I the only one at Midtown that does know? In fact it’s amazing the whole world hasn’t figured it out!’ she retorted. Her wild hair seemingly exacerbating her emotions. 

Peter just stared at her for a moment before he said ‘You aren’t the only one at Midtown who knows.’

‘Ahh yes,’ MJ said ‘Dweeb number 2 is also in on your spider activities.’

Peter blinked and said. ‘How long?’  She appeared to soften a little, her arms relaxing from their tight cross against her chest and her lips curling into a smirk. ‘Since not long after your uncle died, I had suspicions, and then after the stunt in DC, I knew for sure that it was you.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ He asked, still shocked.

She just shrugged and said ‘I wanted to wait and see what happens. I thought maybe eventually you would tell me yourself.’

‘I would never of told you.’ He said forcefully, he noticed for a second that she flinched, her expression hinting that she was pained by his words.

‘Wait no!’ Peter quickly said reaching out to her. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I would never have told you because, I have never told anyone. Everyone that knows, was an accident. I think I would still rather no one knew, because then everyone is safer.’ She smiled at his words in a way that could only be described as gentle and affectionate and then glanced down at her arm.

It was then Peter realised that he had placed his palm against her forearm. He too also looking down at his hand, there was an awkward static moment before he yanked his hand away and anxiously ran it through his hair, shaking it a little.

They ended up talking for hours. About school, about Spider-man and eventually about Thanos. He filled the gaps in on things she hadn’t been able to figure out, and she explained watching his behaviour from the outside, piecing together the puzzle. To his surprise, talking to MJ about Spider-Man and Thanos was different from any other person. She didn’t cry and hold him like May, she didn’t ask for details like Ned. She just listened and occasionally asked questions. She let him just be free in his feelings for a moment, the two then side by side on her spongy double bed.

‘What was space like?’ She said after a moment of silence, somewhat lightening the mood from death and despair. And then the conversation was re ignited again, he steered the topics away from him, and asked her all the things he had wanted to know about the mysterious MJ. She didn’t answer many things readily, but there was a strange intimacy and freedom, that came with tiredness and the silence only found at 4am in the morning. She did admit to having a crush on Zac Efron growing up, and she touched on her family life, opening up some of the pain and loneliness that had been put upon her.

Eventually she asked. ‘Did you love Gwen?’ Immediately Peter tensed, but then her soft slender hand was over his, gently squeezing in support. And so Peter relented. ‘Not as much as I should have.’ He mumbled as a tear rolled down his face. ‘She deserved better.’ He added, his voice catching. He cried silently for a while, allowing himself to go to the place of grief and guilt he specifically locked away for Gwen. He felt MJ roll into him and nuzzle her face into his shoulder, draping one arm over his torso in silent reassurance and comfort, before long her warmth lulled him into dreams.  

He was pulled gently from sleep for the first time in years. As his eyes fluttered open, he noticed the sun was filtering through MJ’s window and illuminating the soft honey tones in her brown hair. Her mouth was slightly curled into a smile, although her cheek was pressed into his shoulder, causing her face to be a little augmented and squished. It was wonderful to see her like this, vulnerable and soft. so Peter burned the image into his memory and enjoyed his quiet reverie before she would inevitably wake up. He gently bent his elbow, which was held under her body, allowing his hand to make contact with her back and rub soothing circles in her skin.  He smiled again as she nuzzled closer into his neck. 

It was then that Peter realised that he was in MJ’s bed, easily holding her in his arms, thinking about how right it felt. MJ. Michelle Jones. Michelle ‘MJ’ Jones, his friend and Academic decathlon captain. She stirred a little next to him as he began to awaken to something he should have realised a long time ago, his epiphany hitting him like a truck. All this time she knew he was Spider-Man and all this time he was in love with M.J.