#Midtown Eats

[xxplastic-cubexx]

MARVEL RIVALS NEW SEASON DROPS ON MY BIRTHDAY LETS FUCKIGN GO????????

[ashlee-simpson]

[raven]

"you're breathing the subway air already" not me im wearing a mask and will never take it off!

[walkingdetroit]

Fall in Midtown. 10/16/23

[waugh-bao]

A Day in NYC (2023)

[sreegs]

Sections of the Alphabet, a guide:

ABCDEF - The Grade Quarter. For obvious reasons these letters are associated with rank and quality. Though E is not a common grade it nevertheless is part of the territory.

GHIJK - The Working Class Neighborhood. In English these letters do a lot of grunt work. Their proximity to the grades make them overlooked but what would we do without them?

LMNOP - Midtown. When learning the alphabet this section gets a lot of attention due to its distinctive landcape and how it rolls off the tongue. Its vista of peaks and hills make it stand out as well.

QRSTUV - The Support Town. A land of contrasts. The heavy lifters in this area draw a sharp disparity with Q, which is unique for its specialist role.

WXYZ - The Outlands. A stretch of unusual landscape that is distinct for its cuisine. Everyone knows what kind of dish you're eating when it's got some of these letters in it.

[starseongs]

walking around manhattan by myself listening to ateez with a completely straight face but im experiencing more emotions and going thru more insane delusions than u can even imagine

[scarletttbitch]

the fact that i'm at work doing fucking Nothing instead of drawing stupid fanart in my room should be a CRIME

[melmedarda]

arcane ep 1 dashboard simulator

🌉 pilt-power Follow

did we all hear about the explosion in the kiramman building in midtown? somebody's getting fired and i hope its old cassie

🗝️ kirammankitty Follow

literally get off her case? yes it was an apprenta from her clan whos apartment was blown up but its not her fault. she is a mother and a fully functioning member of society you're just jealous you'll never be as rich and influential as she is

🌉 pilt-power Follow

don't know how to tell you this but she's not gonna fuck you.

#some people wanna eat the rich and not in the cannibalistic way #anways fuck the kirammans

🏚️ zaun-and-zest Follow

deckard won't admit it but he got his ass handed to him by a girl. so much for his hardass exterior

🥊 fist-in-your-face Follow

are you saying girls can't fight?

🌐 worldstarzaun Follow

i saw thatttt bro, she let him have it. we were like let him get up, let him get up #deckardassbeating

🏚️ zaun-and-zest Follow

no i'm implying he is weaker than a girl do not put words in my mouth i will enforce my foot up your ass

🍃 downthesump420 Follow

i swear to janna if that pleasure house yordle makes eyes at me again i'm jumping into the pilt and filing a restraining order

🏩 babettes-saggy-tits Follow

why is it you. what do you have that i do not?

👤 life-in-the-lanes-deactivated-3404985 Follow

those damn kids have got the fucking enforcers breaking down my door and for WHAT. this is why i don't want kids they are too much trouble. normalize celibacy

🍺 alkaholical Follow

you won't have that chance have kids bc nobody will sleep with you unless you pay them

👤 life-in-the-lanes-deactivated-3404985 Follow

my mother will know your name

🐹 deathtoheimer Follow

you aren't living in zaun if you don't have multiple organ failure!!!!

🐹 deathtoheimer Follow

👮🏾 grayson-fanpage Follow

Grayson sighted in the Lanes, at Benzo's shop.

🚨 graysonsulimatefanboy Follow

grayson pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me im on my knees pleace pick me plouse pick me come over i'm at 69 sidereal st

🫄graysoncocksleeve Follow

mommy longdick just landed back in the lanes!!!!!! welcome mommy longdick!!!!

🚓 graysontheemilf Follow

now what is she doing in the ghetto? free my milf!!! grayson come home baby, the kids miss you!!

🔗 graysons-left-asscheek Follow

humilating how you all are begging over an enforcer who enables piltover's unjust presence and occupation of zaun. disgusting!!! the gray has muddled your minds. that being said, i need grayson to dom me.

🚫 defundthenenforcers Follow

using this post as a blocklist, all of you are sick fucks

�� thelastfop Follow

fuck that piltie marcus his stupid face makes me want to kill someone

💦 dilfvander Follow

a fellow marcus hater on my dash??? legendary because i hate that sleeze bag too. i hope he stubs his toe every morning and gets an itch he can never scratch and falls into the pilt and is run through a ship propeller and his remains float out to bilgewater where he becomes fish food. dishonor on him and his family fr.

🍻 thelastfop Follow

bro said

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Just lunch.

tw - none

word count - 978

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

inspired by Only Tea from great gatsby the musical

—————————————————————————

The soft hum of Tony Stark’s voice filled Peter Parker’s Bluetooth earpiece as he maneuvered through Midtown traffic on his way home. The sky was painted in hues of orange and gold, but Peter barely noticed, too consumed by the whirlwind of emotions triggered by the phone call he was still reeling from.

“Relax, kid,” Tony drawled, clearly smirking on the other end. “It’s just lunch. A little bread, maybe some salad. You’ve had lunch before, right? You’re not gonna implode.”

Peter gripped the steering wheel tighter, his voice strained. “Yeah, but I’ve never had this lunch before, Mr. Stark! What do I even say to her? How do I start? Do I start? Should I bring flowers? Does she like flowers? Oh my God, what if she’s allergic to flowers and I kill her on the spot—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tony cut in. “Stop spiraling. First of all, nobody’s allergic to all flowers, Parker. And second of all, she’s not some stranger you met on Tinder. It’s Y/N. You’ve done this dance before.”

“But we haven’t,” Peter argued, his voice rising with panic. “Not since—well, not since she…”

Tony sighed, a rare moment of genuine understanding sneaking into his tone. “Look, I get it. Five years is a long time. But you’re forgetting one key detail here, kid.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“She’s Y/N.”

Peter blinked at the simplicity of it, his mind scrambling for a way to make sense of the statement.

Tony continued, his voice growing more patient. “You think she doesn’t remember you? Doesn’t care? Kid, the second she came back, I asked her what she wanted. You know what she said?”

Peter swallowed. “What?”

“She said, ‘Where’s Peter?’” Tony’s voice softened slightly, but his trademark sass quickly returned. “Not ‘where’s Dad?’ Not ‘how’s the company?’ Not even, ‘wow, what’s up with that whole universe-dusting situation?’ You. She wanted you.”

Peter’s chest tightened, his breath hitching.

“So, take a deep breath,” Tony instructed. “She’s not some long-lost pen pal. She’s your girl. And all you have to do is show up, eat some carbs, and let her remind you why you fell for her in the first place. Easy-peasy.”

“Easy-peasy?” Peter repeated incredulously. “Easy for you to say! You’re Tony Stark! I’m just… me. What if I mess this up? What if she realizes I’m not the guy she remembers? I’m a workaholic now! I wear ties!”

Tony let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, no! Not ties! How will she ever recover?”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead as he pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building. “I’m serious. What if she doesn’t… feel the same?”

Tony paused for a moment, and Peter could hear the faint clinking of glassware in the background, probably Tony making himself a drink. When he finally spoke, his tone was steadier, calmer.

“She will, kid. I promise you, she will.”

Later that night, Peter paced the length of his apartment, phone in hand, scrolling through Google for advice that no search engine could possibly provide. His thoughts ping-ponged wildly:

What should I wear? What’s the perfect “Hey, I’m a professional now, but I’m still your dorky Peter” outfit? A blazer? Too formal. Jeans? Too casual. Oh my God, what if she thinks I’ve let myself go? Should I do push-ups right now? Is there enough time to get in shape before tomorrow?

Frustrated, he flopped onto his couch and grabbed a pillow, muffling his scream into it.

He dialed Happy’s number on instinct, but when the man answered with, “This better be important,” Peter panicked and hung up immediately.

Instead, he called Tony. Again.

“Kid, I swear if you’re calling me about flowers again—”

“I don’t know what to say! What if I walk in and freeze? Or worse, what if I talk too much and say something stupid? What if I accidentally bring up the Snap? I can’t just be like, ‘Hey, remember when you disintegrated in my arms?’ That’s not lunch conversation!”

“Peter,” Tony groaned, clearly exasperated but still indulgent. “It’s only lunch. You’re acting like you’re about to propose or give a TED Talk on nanotechnology.”

Peter sat up straight, alarmed. “Should I prepare a speech?”

“No!” Tony practically yelled. “For crying out loud, Parker, if you don’t stop overthinking this, I’m gonna send Pepper to come knock some sense into you. Or Morgan. She’s scarier.”

Peter groaned, leaning back against the couch and covering his face with his hands. “I can’t help it, Mr. Stark. This feels… big.”

“It is big,” Tony said, his voice gentler now. “But you don’t have to handle it all at once. Just show up. Let it happen. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

The next day, as Peter drove to the lakeside cottage, his mind raced with every possible worst-case scenario. He was running early—so early, in fact, that he had time to pull over at a rest stop and scream into his jacket sleeve again.

When he finally arrived, Tony was waiting on the porch, sipping a cup of coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You’re late,” Tony teased as Peter walked up the steps.

Peter frowned. “I’m ten minutes early.”

“Yeah, well, you look like you’ve been marinating in anxiety for hours. Thought you might need a little nudge.” Tony patted him on the back and leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Remember: it’s just lunch.”

Peter nodded, trying to believe it.

But when he saw Y/N standing on the dock, laughing with Morgan as the wind caught her hair, his breath hitched, and for the first time in five years, his world felt whole again.

“Just lunch,” he whispered to himself, smiling despite his nerves. Maybe Tony was right after all.

—————————————————————————

[walkingdetroit]

Wide Awake

Awake Cafe, 4224 3rd Ave in Midtown

[the-badger-mole]

It's Time For Second...second....SECOND DATE UPDATE!!!!

{Transcript of Second Date Update from Tho and Due in the morning. Originally aired 1-/--/---

Good morning, RC! Thank you for tuning into Tho and Due in the Morning! I'm your host Tho.

And I'm Due! And it's time for Second Date Update! Today's first guest is Aang. Aang recently went on a date with a young lady that he says went really great, bu~ut he hasn't had any luck setting up a second date. {cue sad Aww! sound effect}

That's right. This situation is a bit different though. Usually on these calls, the first date is still the "getting to know you" phase for our couples, but Aang says that he and this girl had been friends for a while and actually knew each other pretty well before their first date. We're going to let him tell his story. Aang?

Thanks, guys. Yeah, Katara and I have been friends for about ten years now. We met when we were in high school, and I've been in love with her since the beginning. I had been trying for years to get her to go out with me, and she finally said yes!

Congrats! Tell us a bit about the date. Did something go wrong? Did she say anything to make you think she was upset at the end?

No! The date was amazing! I pulled out all the stops. We went to a nice restaurant, then a walk by the water, and dessert at this cafe that makes the best custard tarts in the city. We even kissed! But when I tried to make a second date, she said she was busy. I tried to talk to her when we were hanging out at our friend's house, and she seemed weirdly distant. I didn't know how to get her to talk to me, so I reached out to you guys.

Aw! Well, let's get Katara on the phone and see if we can't sort this out for you, alright, buddy?

{phone rings. rings. rings. ri-}

Hello?

Hi, is this Katara {last name redacted}?

Um...yeah? Who is this?

This is Tho from Tho and Due in the Morning on ZK100.

O-kay? What's this about?

You're on the air live with us on our radio show!

Radio show? Those are still a thing?

{Due laughs awkwardly}

Yeah, we're a hold over from the age of the dinosaurs. Anyway, you're on a segment we call the Second Date Update. We're calling you because we were contacted by a friend of yours. Did you go on a date with Aang a few weeks ago?

Yeah, I did go out with him once, like two months ago. What about it?

Well, Aang had a great time on that date, and he'd like to take you out again. We just wanted to know if you'd be interested.

No.

Oh, ouch! That was quick. Mind if we ask what happened? Aang said it was a lovely night.

{Tho laughs at Due}

Lovely night? Who are you? King Kuei?

Whatever man. So, Katara, did something happen that night that made you not want to go out with Aang again? From what he tells us, you two were already friends, so you like something about him, right?

He's...fine. Yeah, we're friends, but I didn't have as good a time that night as he seems to have had.

Oh? Do tell! He made it sound like a nice time. Dinner, a nice walk and then dessert. A kiss at the end of the night...

Ha! Okay, so the basics are right, we had dinner at this vegan spot in midtown-

Oof! Vegan! I see why you didn't want a second date.

What? No, no, that wasn't the problem. I'm fine with eating vegan sometimes, and it was a nice restaurant. But I made the mistake of telling him how much I liked my meal, and he launched into this long, preachy diatribe about the virtues of eating plant based, and how awful it was to eat meat. He stopped short of outright calling me a murderer, but only just. Then after dinner, he insisted he on what he called a short walk to a cafe for dessert. It was a mile through the most secluded part of Shori Park- you know, where they had that string of muggings over the summer? And I was in heels. I wanted to turn back and drive, but Aang kept insisting it wasn't much farther. I didn't feel safe walking back on my own, so I kept going. My feet were killing me and my shoes were ruined by the time we got to the cafe.

Yikes! That does not sound like the evening Aang described.

Oh, but there's more! It turns out Aang's a regular at this particular cafe, and he's very popular there. Very popular. He flirted with the cashier for like ten minutes. Then when he finally came back to our table with our orders, we kept being interrupted by all these girls who just had to ask him about random things or ask him to show them his marble trick- which by the way, isn't that interesting. I got a cab on Yip Yip, and it when it finally came, Aang was shocked to hear that I didn't want to walk back through the park to his car. He insisted on walking me out, and before I got in the car, he did kiss me. He smashed my lip into my teeth. I thought for sure I'd be bleeding.

Ooo...ouch!

Woah...yeah. I-I guess I can understand why he hasn't heard from you about a second date. But he'd been trying to get a date with you for a while, right?

No. I knew he had a crush on me at one point, but he never made a move. Then he suddenly asked me out. I had broken up with my ex a few months earlier, and Aang was the complete opposite of him. I thought why not give it a try with him.

Well, maybe he was nervous.

Trust me, if you had seen him in that cafe playing up for his crowd of admirers, nervous is the last word you'd use to describe him.

Wow... That sounds like a rough night. We actually have Aang on the other line. Would you mind if we brought him into the conversation?

{Katara heaves a heavy sigh}

I guess...

Alright. Go on Aang.

Hey Katara...

Hi, Aang.

I heard what you said about that night. I didn't realize you'd had such a bad time.

Well, maybe if you had let me get a word in edgewise.

I'm sorry I took you to a vegan restaurant. But you know I'm an ethical-

Ethical vegan. Yes. I know. I didn't have a problem with the restaurant. I had a problem with being browbeaten about eating meat. I respect the fact that you don't eat meat. You need to respect the fact I do.

That's like asking me to respect the fact that some people murder.

I can't have this argument with you again, Aang. I'm hanging up.

Wait! Please don't! I'm sorry, Katara. Can't we just talk this out?

There's not that much to talk about, Aang. Listen, you're a nice guy, but I don't feel that way about you.

How do you know after one date? I screwed up. I admit it, but I promise I'll do better next time.

Katara, we usually ask if you'd like to go on a second date. It would be completely paid for by the station. We'll even spring for a chauffeur so you don't have to worry about walking through sketchy areas at night.

No thank you.

Please, Katara! Give me one good reason you won't give me just one more chance.

I don't want to.

That's not a reason.

Okay, fine. You're self-involved to the point that you're boring. And you don't pay attention to anything I say. I've known you for almost ten years, and you brought me panda lilies for our date.

Those are very expensive flowers!

That I'm allergic to! Which you should know. You were there the first time I got hives from them.

No way!

Aaaahahahahaha! Aang! Buddy....!

I'm sorry! I forgot. I got nervous, and I wanted to impress you.

We've been friends for years. What made you think you had to put on some big production for me?

I-I just...

Yeah, great. Let it go, Aang. We gave it a shot, and it didn't work out.

That's not fair! You can't just throw away any chance of us working because of one awkward date. I've been waiting for years for this. It can't be over already, just like that.

I'm not arguing with you about this.

Wait, wait, wait! Come on, Katara! You have to give me another chance. We're supposed to be together!

Based on what?

On...well, haven't I been a good friend to you?

I don't know man...you didn't know she was allergic to panda lilies

Just because we're friends doesn't mean we're supposed to date.

I don't want to date you! I want to marry you! You-you're my Forever Girl.

{Tho, Due and Katara are all silent}

You can't be serious. I'm hanging up now.

If you hang up, our friendship is over.

Wow...okay. I didn't want to tell you this over the radio, because I thought it would hurt your feelings, but now I don't care. I'm dating Zuko now.

What?

Who's Zuko?

You can't be dating Zuko. You hate him!

I don't hate him. I've been friends with him for almost as long as I've been friends with you. We've been going out for a few weeks, and we just made it official a couple days ago. Even if I did want a second date with you, I don't think he'd appreciate me going out with another man.

Don't do this Katara! He's all wrong for you!

Good-bye, Aang.

Well, I think we lost Katara. Sorry about how that ended there, buddy.

There's plenty other girls. What about that cashier you were flirting with? In the middle of your date...

{Aang hangs up. Tho tries and fails to smother his laughter}

Well, that's all the time we have for today. Thanks for joining us on ZK100. Republic City's number one station for today's top hits, and the home of Second Date Update.

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME #11.5 SPECIAL

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Let’s start from the beginning one last time.

Word count: 5,800

Warning: Heavy angst and character death. Dead Dove do not eat.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Let’s start from the beginning one last time. 

My name is Miguel O’Hara, and in an experiment gone wrong, my genetic code was partially rewritten with Spider DNA, giving me superpowers.

My home is Earth 928-C where I was the one and only Spiderman... of my home dimension at least.

I invented and built a dimensional travel device that allowed me to jump between universes with the goal of exploring the limits of the multiverse. 

And then I met a woman in this other world who nearly died from a crazy freak accident.

I saved her of course.

Then I saved her again.

And again, and again.

... And again.

We fell in love, and I decided to stay with her in her world.

You know the rest. We got married. We had a life together.

I was happy. Really happy. 

For a while.

[Earth 383-D]

3 YEARS AGO

"Goddamn idiot bird," Miguel mutters under his breath.

Vulture is on the loose again, wreaking havoc on the city. The maniac is flying high above the city grounds, leaving a trail of mayhem in his wake. 

Miguel's been in pursuit for the better half of two hours. In that time, the bird has derailed the High Line, literally hit a traffic light and managed to knock over the spire on the Statue of Liberty as if he was flying under the influence.

Then somehow flew across town through Tribeca, along Lower Manhattan and Greenwich Village and now reached all the way to Midtown Manhattan. 

Dumbass ugly stupid bird. 

Miguel digs his claws into the exterior of the limestone and granite of the Empire State Building to steady himself, using the momentum to leap forward.

The Vulture crashes into a skyscraper 50 feet ahead of Miguel, and in the mad dash, he can see a man tumble out of the building head first to the ground from the 30th floor. 

Swinging forward, Miguel slings out a web from his palm, catching the screaming and sobbing office worker in midair and lands briefly against the windowpane. He ensures the man is secured to the building in a cocoon of webbing until the fire department can get him to safer grounds.

Miguel doesn't even get a second to catch his breath. From afar, he can pick up the sound of another window being crashed into by the unwieldy metal bird. 

Crap. 

It's impossible for Miguel to both chase the Vulture and keep everyone else in his path of destruction safe. One superhero can't be in two places at once (none that he has encountered).

Gritting his teeth, Miguel leaps off the building swinging freely into the air to make up on the lost ground between him and the metallic cuckoo bird.

He needs backup, and the backup is unfortunately running late.

Where is he? Why is he always late?

Does that man not understand that when someone calls for backup because of an emergency, the emergency part indicates that there's some urgency to it?

Flying through the air 100 feet above the ground, from the corner of his eyes, Miguel catches the familiar garish red flowing cape that billows from the cowl of the grand cloak and suit. 

Miguel would know that weird wizard get-up anywhere. 

"Strange!" Miguel calls out, and he can feel irritation rattle in his chest. "You're late! Where the shock were you?"

"The word you're looking for is 'fuck.' Where the fuck was I," the man responds with a sarcastic drawl.

Strange levitates through the air, effortlessly without expending any energy at all as he catches up with Miguel. "You gave me no notice. Be happy I showed up at all."

From a distance he sees the dumb bird soar high up into the sky and towards the all too familiar crowned roof of the Chrysler building. 

No. nononono. 

Why is he there? What is he doing there? Anywhere but there. 

His back flashes cold then burning hot as the Vulture makes a straight beeline for the familiar building.

It’s fine. Maybe he’s not going to fly in there. Maybe he’s just going to fly past it.

Miguel watches as the metallic bird soars up and up and up, past the midpoint of the building, past the 40th floor of your office and up to the 50th floor. The tight squeeze in his chest eases.

Then the vulture stops, mid-flight and looks down below, as if he changed his mind, before he descends again. 

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

He dives into one of the windows between the 40th and 50th floor. The sound of broken glass and shrill screams can be heard even from where Miguel is. 

Blood freezes in his veins and nausea overtakes him. Calm down. Breathe.. Maybe you’re not in. After all, Lyla’s security protocols would’ve been activated by now if you were. He would’ve been alerted. 

Soaring through the skies, Miguel reaches over to his wrist to punch in the dial for Lyla to check in and reassure himself you're safe. But his tracker blinks back in an alarming red, and he darts down his head towards the display.  

Error. 

His heart stops. 

The flying silhouette reappears through the shattered windows and the metallic harness strapped onto the vulture gleams bright against the sun.

It’s only then it hits him. Lyla's been deactivated by the madman's stupid Electro-Magnetic Harness. 

Why hadn't he foreseen that as a technical flaw?

Against the reflective glass panes, Miguel sees you, caught in the Vulture talons like a mouse captured by a large predatory bird. Every hair on his neck stands on end. His vision bleeds into red, blood roaring at the sight of it.

Kill him.

Miguel's gonna murder that freak for touching you. Crush his windpipe so he can't ever squawk again, then rip his throat out with his claws and feed it to the street pigeons for good measure.

Launching himself through the air, Miguel tears up the side of the building. The tempered glass beneath his claws and feet, shatters into sharp jagged pieces as he closes the distance. 

He is almost within reach. Only some 30 feet that still separates you from him. Leaping the final distance he slams hard into the side of the Vulture until metal crunches beneath his feet. 

Miguel roars until his throat burns with it. Palms gripping at the man’s jaw and prying it back to get at his bare throat. His fangs are ready to sink into the jugular. He can see the dark pupil of Vulture's eyes dilate with fear. 

Good. Miguel's anger will be the last thing this freak sees.

"Miguel calm down," Strange shouts at him from behind. "You're gonna knock her off."

Miguel freezes at the warning, forcing himself to hold still as he looks down to where you are dangling precariously from the Vulture's claws.

"Be ready," Strange shouts, and Miguel looks to him, not understanding what the hell he means. 

Strange rests his hand over the shiny blue gem hanging around a chain from his neck.

What does he mean by be ready? What is Strange going to do?

"What'd you mea–"

Miguel doesn't have a chance to finish the rest of his sentence. An unnatural force vibrates through him. A pulsating wave that pervades his senses, punching through his lungs and knocks him back. 

In an instance, you're propelled away from Strange and the Vulture, and you are freefalling towards the ground below.

Miguel leaps mid-air, arms outstretched to catch you as you plummet towards the ground below. His fingers clasps around your wrists, your warm skin against his fingertips.

He's got you!

Taking hold of you by the arm, Miguel pulls you into his chest as he wraps one arm securely around your waist.

Immediate relief fills him from the inside out as the adrenaline and the searing anger is already starting to fade now that he knows you're safe.

"You okay, nena?" he asks.

You nod, arms finding purchase around the back of his neck, and squeeze down tight. He swings you both to the safety of a nearby rooftop.

There's barely time for him to touch the surface, he hears the nearby explosion and sees Vulture crash into the concrete wall of the nearest building. 

Strange is levitating nearby, hands making wild gestures, presumably to perform some hocus pocus ritual. There’s a magical glow as strobes of light manifest out of thin air surrounding the Vulture from all sides and wrapping around him in a restraining bind.

Miguel sets you down. You're a little bit wobbly on your feet, and seeing you stumble the way you do has that protective streak spark anew in his chest.

Stupid Strange. He can't just do shit like that. 

What if Miguel hadn't reacted in time? What if you had fallen? 

This is why Miguel hates working with the guy, even if they’re friends. Always on his moral high horse about Miguel being reckless, then he pulls shit like this.

"Everyone alright?" Strange asks as he levitates through the sky to set feet close to you both on the rooftop.

Miguel grits his teeth with annoyance at the man’s casual demeanor when he nearly threw you out of the sky.

"Shock you, Strange," he spits out.

"Miggy..." you sigh in a reprimanding tone next to him. 

Stephen shakes his head at him. "I told you. It's fuck"

"Fuck you, Strange."

Sanctum Sanctorum is closer than home and Strange has, comfortable sofas in his ridiculously big mansion. Big enough sofas that Miguel can actually lounge in them comfortably without it feeling cramped. It's why, given the choice, he always prefer to regroup there, over your tiny apartment.

Besides, while the man's control over his magical powers can be suspect at times, he used to be a doctor. Supposedly one of the leading brain surgeons in the world, and Miguel is a lot more comfortable at the prospect of Strange giving you a checkover to make sure you don't need further medical attention than trying your luck at one of the local ERs.

"Follow my finger," Strange says as he shines a little flashlight into your eyes and moves his index from side to side. 

Your eyes follow him dutifully, and Strange proceeds with the rest of his medical check, asking you the boring standard questions. "Any symptoms of dizziness, lightheadedness, or a sense of vertigo?"

He fires them out in rapid succession, and a bit too perfunctory for Miguel's liking.

"Noticed any changes in your vision, blurriness or double vision, etcetera etcetera?"

Miguel's jaw tic in irritation at how Strange is putting in minimal effort and just going through the motions.

"Yeah, you're fine." Strange pats your knees, then whisks the flashlight away into nothingness with his cape.

That medical check wasn't anything close to thorough. Miguel crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you sure? Her feet were wobbly before, I wanted to make sure she didn't sprain her ankle."

"A little bit overprotective as always aren't we?" Strange says.

Miguel shoots the man a glare and Stephen sighs, "Her reflexes are fine, I don't think anything's sprained."

"Check again, you seemed sloppy," Miguel accuses.

"You know, I'm doing this as a favor because you’re a friend. Do you have any idea how much a medical examination by one of the leading neurological surgeons in the world would cost you normally?"

"I'll have Lyla transfer the money."

“No, it’s not actually about money just–" Stephen shakes his head, then sighs. "Nevermind.”

He gestures for you to drape your leg across his lap, then he reaches over to gently assess your ankle as requested.

"What is this necklace?" You ask. You lean closer to Strange, inspecting the blue gem where it rests against his chest.

Strange swats at your hand, the way an adult scolds a child with sticky chocolate smeared hands trying to touch the fine china.

"It's a protection amulet. When activated it forms a protective barrier that forcibly repels everything within ten feet of you."

"Huh," you reach back for the amulet undaunted by the earlier reprimand, fascinated and clearly enamored by it. "I'll give you fifty bucks for it."

Strange looks offended. "It's not for sale, and if it was it would certainly be worth a lot more than fifty dollars. It's a genuine magical artifact, not fake costume jewelry from the theater department."

You purse your lips, considering the amulet.

"Forty," you offer.

Miguel has to choke back a snorting laughter in his throat at the way Stephen's eyes goes wide in confused outrage.

"Wait, why is the price going down?"

“We’re in the middle of an economic crisis, Stephen,” you counter.  

Strange's head darts over to where Miguel sits, presumably for backup, but he's knocked on the wrong door. The man must be mad if he thinks that there is ever a world where Miguel would side against you.

"Strange, we both know it’s easier if you just give her the amulet." Miguel says. 

The man sighs, shaking his head in defeat.

"Be careful with it," he says as he drags the chain over his head to place it in your awaiting palms. "And don't lose it like the invisibility amulet with Mysterio. Had to spend a whole month clearing up your mess when that creep used it to get into the women's locker rooms at every local gym in Greenwich!"

"That wasn’t my mess! Miggy lost that one during an aerial fight. You can't blame that on me."

"You married him, so you're responsible for him. I consider you two jointly to blame."

"Now you're just lashing out," you shoot back.

Miguel watches the two of you in patient boredom, his head propped up by an elbow on the arm of the sofa. He expended way too much energy during the fight, and now he needs to refuel. 

If Miguel leaves you two to it, you'll spend an eternity bantering, the way you do. His stomach growls. He wants food. Wants wantons and beef ho fun and a dozen custard salted egg buns for dessert. And the longer you two are at it, the longer it's going to take for him to get it.

"Nena," he calls out, "I'm hungry. Are you two done? I want to go for dinner."

You shoot Miguel a quick smile, pulling out your wallet and take out a wad of green bills then fold it into Strange's hand with a happy grin.

Strange looks down at the crumpled up money in his hand. "Wait, you're only giving me thirty? I thought we said forty."

"You still owe me like ten bucks from mini golf last week."

Strange pockets the money with a grumble. "Unbelievable." 

“C’mon,” Miguel says as he stands up and gestures to the both of you with a curt nod of his head towards the door. “Let’s go. I’ll pay for dinner this time,” Miguel says, and that seems to abate Strange’s outrage somewhat as the man grabs your coat from the sofa cushions and offers it to you.

Life on Earth 383-D is strange.

Life here is borderline primitive. The technology is something out of the stone ages.

Social media is a wasteland. Reality TV is a dystopian concept. And he doesn't understand who Kardashian is or why everyone is obsessed with her and her family. 

He does like fax machines though. They are basically teleportation machines and it boggles him that the people of your dimension do not seem to understand its potential.

The one thing he will give this version of earth credit for is that the food here is nice. Everyone in his home dimension is too health conscious, and fried food has long been banned by the government for the long term damage it does to the cardiovascular system. 

He also likes the life that the two of you have built together here. You have a home in that tiny shoebox apartment. You have friends. Strange friends. Like the Doctor who flies around with the help of a magic cape and now practices the mystic arts after a gap year in Asia. A young girl whose main superpower is the ability to communicate with squirrels. Then there’s that ugly red-masked wise-cracking, katana-wielding maniac who never dies.

Sadly, your friends are not the only thing that is strange about your surroundings.

Miguel perches himself on top of the Chrysler building sitting hunched over on the ledge of the roof. He’s drained and bone-tired, chasing down a helicopter that had gone haywire and was hurtling towards your office building. 

Luckily Strange was able to assist and sent it through a magic portal to crash into the Atlantic without putting any lives at stake. 

"Just had to do some cleaning up," Strange says as he sets his boots back down on the ground. 

Miguel doesn't answer him, staring out at the city view and the setting sun as he takes a well earned breather for a moment or two. New York is a bit of a shit hole, but it does look pretty from a high viewpoint, especially when the sun is setting, Miguel has to give this city that.

It's silent between the two of them. Or at least it is until Strange decides to break it with a harkle of his throat. When Miguel doesn't react the man does it again, coughing discreetly in a clear attempt to get his attention.

Miguel doesn't say anything about the man's sore throat. He ran out of the lemon drops you bought him as snacks hours ago, but he does tilt his head up at the man.

"She's been getting into a lot of these incidents lately. More than usual, more than any normal human for it to be a coincidence" Strange says.

The whole of Miguel's back stiffens.

"Have you noticed the abnormal uptick in strange unexplainable supernatural occurrences lately? Indoor tornadoes. The rain of poisonous frogs outside of whole foods. A sinkhole appearing right next to the cafe your wife frequents."

Miguel doesn't love the insinuations. Even with his lips pressed tightly together, Miguel can feel the small muscle in his jaw flex like a nervous tic at the mention of it. Because yeah, he's noticed, kind of hard to miss when your wife's life is in constant peril at all hours of the day.

Ice storms in July that hit right outside your workplace. An inexplicable solar flare causing a blackout that had every single vehicle within a 5 miles radius go haywire in the dark near your apartment. A swarm of mutated mosquitoes with a venomous bite that chased you down Central Park. 

The incidents are occurring more frequently. They are also getting increasingly bizarre and dangerous.

No one can say it’s just bad luck when the daily occurrences around you are defying the very laws of nature itself. Something isn't right with the universe, and he's not sure what else there is to do except pretend that everything is still ok.

"What are you implying?" Miguel asks through gritted teeth. 

But for the first time in the years that Miguel has known him, Strange's talkativeness is nowhere to be found. He doesn't answer Miguel. He's smart that way, the clever bastard. Knows that if he says one wrong word, Miguel is going to unhinge his jaws like a feral alligator and snap at him. 

Strange has said what he needed for Miguel to know exactly what he's getting at. The man just meets his eyes with an intentional stare, not shying away from Miguel's glare.

It's not like the thought hasn't crossed Miguel's mind. Not like it hasn't been keeping him up at night, every night.

Even though you've always been accident prone and suffered from bad luck, at this point it's a mathematical impossibility that anyone would run into as many near death incidents as you have.

This isn't by chance. It's by design. Miguel's suspected as much for a while now. He just doesn't know whose design and why.

"It's not her fault," Miguel spits out.

"I never said it was."

"Even if what you are saying is true..." Miguel stops, and stares down at his fisted palms with a sinking feeling in his guts. "There's nothing she can do about it to stop it. You can't put that on her."

"Whether she knows about it or not, if it's true, none of this is going to go away.

Strange walks over to where Miguel is, sitting down next to him.

"It’s been escalating in severity," he continues. "There are strange universal energies attached to her. There’s warping of the universal order and space around her. We don't know how bad this can get, if we don’t do anything about this, it could unravel the fabric of reality itself."

Despite the calamity of what Strange is implying, his voice is even and calm as he says it as if he might as well be discussing the weather. That trait has always annoyed the shit out of Miguel.

"What are you planning to do if this continues?" Strange asks.

It's such a silly question. Strange says it as if this is a multiple choice question. But for Miguel there's only one correct answer. 

"Protect her. I have to. She's everything to me."

Miguel is staring into the sunset bu all he sees before him is your face even though you aren’t here. The happy smile that he wants to preserve forever. He tries to fight the ache that's building in him at the thought that it would go away.

"Strange, don't tell her. Please. She doesn't need that burden."

He fists his palms into his side.

Miguel never liked asking for help, but even he knows that if what Strange is saying is true. That if the universe for some unfathomable reason wants you dead, then he's going to need all the help he can get.

If Strange has figured it out. Then it's only a matter of time before others do as well.

Soon enough, you won't just have the universe coming after you but every superhero and villain combined in a united front to take out the common threat that you pose to this entire universe.

Even Miguel knows he can't do this alone and as much as that helplessness tastes like failure and bile in his throat, he can swallow his pride if it helps keep you safe.

"Stephen, you have to help me save her."

From behind, Strange rests one hand on the corner of his shoulder. The weight of it feels like a promise being made. For the first time in a long time, Miguel feels like he can breathe just a little bit easier.

"I will do what I can, my friend."

Weeks go by. There are more incidents. Runaway vehicles that go haywire. Electrical storm fires. Rain of poisonous locusts. 

Somehow he manages to protect you from it all. 

It just means that he has to be more vigilant, that's all. The universe doesn't rest and neither does Miguel now. Lyla has been set on constant alert to wake him up whenever he's napping at any small signs of abnormal occurrences happening near you, with an electric shock to make sure he wakes. Something the A.I. is taking a worryingly amount of glee in (which probably means he needs to retune her programming when he has time).

And today, today Miguel was meant to have a Sunday lie in. Universe be willing, his goal was to sleep all the way into the late afternoon and then you had promised to take him to IHOP and get him all the pancakes he could eat for late breakfast.

But right now he's not asleep. He's trying to. But there are hushed words and whispered murmurs, buzzing in his ear that keeps trying to drag him away from sleep.

It's you and Strange.

Judging from the distance of the noises, you're both standing outside in the hall. The fact that you two are trying to be quiet makes it worse. If you'd spoken in normal volume he could tune it out as white noise, but the conspiratorial quietness of it all makes the hair on the back of his neck tingle with alertness.

Fuck's sake. He swears to god if you two are gossiping and making fun of Hercules’ costume (or the lack of it) again.

It's too early for this crap. Don't you two know that people are trying to sleep? He was up all night chasing crazy Kraven worshippers releasing animals from the Brooklyn zoo. Miguel had to gather wild zebras and crocodiles all the way down East Village til 4am.

With a groan, he drags himself halfway up along the mattress, about to go and growl at you both to be quiet, when the cluttered noises register as words and the fuzziness of sleep clears momentarily.

"He'd destroy this world for you."

Huh? What are you two talking about?

Miguel's too groggy to make sense of the context of what's being said. Even with his super hearing he has to focus to make out the words.

"You can't let him."

Irritated, he gets out of bed and walks to the front door to swing it open. The first thing he sees is you standing with Strange in the hallway. You jump at the suddenness and look up at him with wide eyes.

You have the worst poker face of anyone he's ever seen in his life.

"What are you two jabbering on about this damn early?" he asks.

He'd expected the two of you to act coy, maybe a clever 'wouldn't you like to know' retort back from the Mystic. Instead, Strange's face is entirely inscrutable, tone serious as he responds.

"We were just catching up. Nothing important. I need to head back," Strange says, then he turns to you with a meaningful tilt to his head. "Think about what I said."

"What was that about?" Miguel asks you as he watches Strange step through a portal and disappear.

You don't say anything. There's a worried frown etched between your eyebrows as you bite down on your lip.

Something crawls under Miguel's skin at the whole interaction.

You're oddly quiet the whole afternoon. Deep in thought and walking around as if in a daze, which unsettles him.

It's not difficult for him to guess what's wrong. He might have been half asleep when you and Strange were whispering in the corridors, but Miguel can put one and one together. Having two PHDs and a lifetime's experience of working in theoretical physics gives you that leg up.

In a last ditch effort to get you out of the uncharacteristic blues, he orders a dozen of your favorite cupcakes from that tiny shop in New Jersey. It costs an arm and a leg to have it couriered, but it'll be worth it if it makes you smile. 

Then he sits down next to you on the bed and places the pink pastry box down on the mattress. It's your favorite place to eat cakes and it’s why you two always end up with crumbs and frosting all over the sheets.

You happily cram half a cupcake into your mouth in one bite as you eat, and he watches you contently. If there was any fairness in the world, this quiet idyllic moment could last forever. In a good world, Miguel wouldn’t have to burst this perfect bubble. 

Sadly, this world is neither fair nor good sometimes. 

"Strange said something to you right?" Miguel asks. 

You still next to him, clearly torn between whether or not to share what was said to you, probably in secret with the very intention of being kept away from him. 

“Nena,” Miguel tries again, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath, caving into his prodding. 

"Strange thinks that my incidents might be correlated with the strange natural occurrences lately."

That fucking asshole. He knew it. Irritation pings across his jaw, and Miguel bites it down. He tries to reel it, forcing back the rant that wants to surface. Instead he tries to focus on you instead of his own anger. 

"We don't know that. It could just be a series of coincidences," Miguel tells you. 

You nod, but Miguel's not an idiot and neither are you. He can see the worry creasing your eyes as you look down to your lap. 

Putting down the cupcake, he reaches over and links his right hand with yours. 

"Nena, don't worry.” He cups his free hand over your cheek to drag you up to meet his eyes.

“I'll fight the whole universe to keep you safe if I have to. Nothing's ever going to harm you so long as I'm here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. You're the most important thing to me."

You smile at him at the words, but there's a wistfulness to it that embeds a dull ache in his chest that he wants to physically rub away to make it stop.

You lean into his touch, until your forehead presses up against his and the physical touch blunts the ache in him for a moment, putting it on pause. 

"You’re the most important to me too," you say.

The sky itself cracks open not long after. 

It doesn’t take the combined forces and intellect of the entire world too long to hone in on you being the root cause. Soon enough every superhero, mutant, villain and alien starts coming after you. Because hero or villain alike, no one truly wants their world to end, not if it’s not on their terms. 

Mysterio tries to kidnap you by the elevator in your apartment building. The Human Torch even tries to burn the whole building down. The Punisher tries to murder you point blank outside your office.

Miguel can’t remember the last time he slept. He’s running on fumes. Day after day, he feels like he’s getting by on borrowed time. 

The friends and allies you have thin out fast as the threats to the world increase in severity. Miguel never imagined having Deadpool standing outside his door stating that the life of one single person cannot outweigh the universe itself. 

It’s all so stupid. None of them know what they’re talking about. A lynching mob with their torches and pitchforks. Never stopping to think whether harming you could trigger something much worse.

If Strange is right and you are the knot at the center of the fabric of reality that is coming apart, then ripping that out leaves a hole. Miguel gave up on explaining that fairly quickly because he realized that theoretical consequences doesn’t matter to an angry mob scared of facing the reality of extinction. 

It all becomes a blur. 

Exhaustion eats into his bones, until he can no longer tell the days apart. No matter how many times he saves you, disaster is always waiting just around the corner. 

And now he’s chasing down the Green Goblin to the top of the Chrysler building from the 61st floor, where the green freak has cornered you to the edge of the rooftop.

Miguel is already out of breath, running away from the coalition of superheroes and villains that are hot on his heels, trying to stop him from saving you. 

Adrenaline beats fast in his veins as he keeps running. Miguel is only able to make out those in pursuit in brief glimpses. The bright blue spandex suit of Reed Richards as his freakishly long elastic limbs stretch towards him. The blocks of metal hurtling towards Miguel, missing by inches and crashes into the side of a building as Magneto’s form hovers nearby. 

He ignores them all, not sparing a glance behind him. He just has to keep moving. It doesn't matter that his muscles scream and burn in exhaustion. Doesn't matter that his head dulls with a heavy ache from lack of sleep. He has to keep going for you. Has to save you.

He's so close, he's almost there.

From the corner of his eyes, he makes out the familiar garish red flowing cape fluttering against the blue sky.

Strange.

Miguel marginally relaxes, at the sight of the sole ally he has left in this universe. He leaps across the rooftop, into the temporary safety of the observatory deck.

His feet doesn't even reach the ground. Something restrains him from behind. Bright lights materialize out of thin air. It wraps around Miguel's limb with the strength of unbreakable manacles, hugging him so tight it restricts the flow of blood to his fingers. Then he’s brought down to his knees. 

Miguel whips his head back and Strange stands there, hands formed in a holding gesture.

“What are you–”

"I'm sorry," Strange says.

Miguel snarls at his restraints, wrenching and twisting in every direction he is able to even with the limited range of motion, but it's to no avail. The harder he struggles the more forceful the restraints seem to close in on him, mirroring his strength.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this. I really hoped there was another way but every life in the whole of the universe is at stake, Miguel."

Hot burning anger spears through him, and if he could he would raze it all to the ground with it. This place, this world and this fucking traitor standing there can all fucking burn. Miguel is gonna kill him. He's gonna kill this fucking bastard. He can't believe he trusted him.

“Strange, fucking let me… Stephen!”

He hears your pained shout and snaps his head towards the sound.

Miguel is only ten feet away from you. Ten measly feet from where the Green Goblin is holding you by the ledge of the rooftop. He can still reach you, if he can get free he can still save you. 

Tearing through the magical binds, there’s a bone-cracking sound in his shoulder. Searing pain spreads through his arm. For all his struggles, he doesn't know if he’s even an inch closer towards you. 

He watches you drop from the ledge. 

It's a pin drop moment where everything stops. His heart is no longer beating. 

No. This can't be how it ends.

He's moving forward, even as the sharp restraints digs into his limbs and flesh and burrows in with an excruciating ache. But the pain doesn't matter. All that matters is you.

It claws into him, and digs and tears, until he is sure that his entire limbs are going to be torn off, but he doesn't stop, keeps pulling against the resisting strength that surrounds him, rips against the hindrance embracing every ounce of the pain until finally, the pressure gives.

There's a cacophony of sound that's left behind him as he leaps through the air. He slingshots downwards, cutting through air as he tries to reach you.

Miguel catches your hand and relief fills his chest.

"I got you. I got you," he murmurs. He's not sure if those words are to calm you or himself.

Pulling you up in defiance of the pull of gravity, he tries to haul you up towards him. Your hand squirms in his, and if you keep going you're going to slip out of his grasp.

"Nena, don't move," he shouts in alarm, but you don't stop, twisting in all directions, making it harder for him to get a better grip.

What're you– You're resisting against his strength, why would you...

It hits him with a sickening realization.

You don' want him to save you.

"Stop!" he shouts. “Stop!”

You shake your head, tears filling the corner of your eyes that flow upwards and everything is upside down to him. 

"We’re out of time. You have to let me go,” you say. 

His fingers squeeze down even harder at your words, refusing to hear it. 

“There's still time. There are still other options. I can still save you!” 

Your hand reaches for the amulet pressed against your collarbone. Dread floods every nerve in his body as he sees your fingers squeeze around it.

"No!" He shouts. Screams it so loud it burns in his lungs. But deep down he knows it's not going to make any difference. "Nena, don't!"

The wind whips too loudly against his face. The sound of your heart pounding so painfully hard in his ear that it's deafening and he knows that sound will haunt him forever. 

You're scared.

He sees your lips move, but he can't hear what you're saying.

But he's heard these words so many times before from your lips that he knows them by heart. 

''I love you.''

An invisible force blasts away at him, it shatters through him through his limbs and torso into the very soft tissue of his stomach and makes his teeth shake. He's propelled upwards, unable to control his movements or defy the gravity that he's learned to navigate after all these years mid-air.

He holds on as hard as he can to your hand, but it doesn't matter. His fingers slip, his grip is lost.

You're falling through the sky.

Miguel doesn't remember much after that.

Somehow he makes it back onto the ground.

Somehow he finds you amongst the cracked dirty concrete. 

Somehow, despite falling from over a 100 feet your body is still intact where it lies lifeless on the ground.

Your bones are broken though. Body limp and soft in his arms in a way that has never felt more wrong to him. His only consolation is that you're still warm in his arms, and he thinks that maybe if he just doesn't let go, if he holds you tightly pressed to him the way he is doing now, it'll remain that way forever.

The sky has cleared above. There are no cracks in the azure blue canvas.

This world is saved. 

His world has ended. 

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To @thirstworldproblemss who has been with me on this journey since chapter one without her enthusiasm and her companionship and friendship and listening to my wild ramblings about this story, I would never have set out to write this thing. She gave me so much joy in the process, she also gave me her time and her skills and brainy talent to help me process and brainstorm this into a shape that I was excited to share with you all! You also have her to thank for that devastating last line.

@guruan who has been a constant well of inspiration with her amazing art, her bright sense of humor and her sharing of theories of what's going to happen! You've made writing this story so much fun!

Author's note: Here we go guys, we've officially entered the final arc now. With only three chapters to go! I am so excited to share the remaining puzzle pieces with you all!

[themculibrary]

Irondad/Parent!Tony Stark Masterlist 4

part one, part two, part three

5 Times Peter Didn’t Say He Was Struggling…And The One Time He Did (ao3) - Bladam_Shevine T, 16k

Summary: Peter had a knack for keeping things to himself, causing an unnecessary amount of stress for a graying Tony Stark.

5 Times Peter Sleepwalked And The 1 Time He Pretended He Did (ao3) - losingmymindtonight G, 8k

Summary: Peter sleepwalks, Tony stresses.

Accepting the Tides (ao3) - Emma_Anacortes T, 78k

Summary: Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May’s death. It was normal that he’d grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter’s life. Naturally he’d feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony’s gonna give him hell.

Atlas Held (ao3) - Grumperella T, 8k

Summary: OR, after an explosion brings down a building on top of them, Peter is the only thing between Tony, Natasha and certain death. Trapped under rubble together, well… nothing builds bonds like shared trauma.

built from scraps (ao3) - peterstank T, 138k

Summary: or: the one where tony was dusted instead of peter, so he and pepper try to figure out the whole ‘family’ thing together.

(oh, and it turns out that the man who died in peter’s arms on an alien planet is his biological father. who knew, right?)

Calm down Peter, its only the AVENGERS (ao3) - Idek_Anymore T, 98k

Summary: May Parker gets shot on her midnight trip to the local corner store for ice cream. Peter now had no living relatives left, and now he truly knew that nothing is worth living for. But then Tony Stark takes him in, with no hesitation of adopting him on the spot.

Ever since then, things go smoothly. Tony and Peter get closer than ever, and Peter even starts to call him dad (but only around the people he is close to, like Pepper and Rhodey, because no one can know that Peter is adopted by Tony). Actually, its perfect; Peter finally has a family and life. School ends as well, and summer finally arrives after a long wait.

Then the Avengers are pardoned, and Tony decides to house them in the tower with himself and Peter; basically opening his private life to a bunch of traitors. But it’s fine, he wants them back; he wants his old family back so much. Things only go haywire after that.

catch those pieces as they scatter (ao3) - lostintranslaation T, 75k

Summary: Five years. Five years of Peter’s life, gone. Everything he knows is in pieces. Thankfully, he has some people around him who are willing to help him pick up the shards.

Distracted by a Dime (ao3) - happyaspie T, 56k

Summary: Peter Parker thinks he has everything figured out. Where he can eat, sleep and make a little bit of money. What he needs to do in order to continue attending Midtown High and being Queen’s friendly neighborhood Spider-man. How to keep his entire situation under wraps and most importantly, who he can trust.

Then, along comes Tony Stark with an offer he can’t refuse. The plan is to remain professional, to not get too close to the Stark-Rogers’ family. Not getting comfortable means not slipping up and saying anything that he can’t take back.

…but for Peter- things rarely go as planned…

Five Times Tony Acts Like A Father (ao3) - buggieb peter/ned, pepper/tony T, 26k

Summary: And one time Peter acts like a son.

In which Peter, with the help of Tony, learns how to drive, survive, share, and - perhaps - how to love again. (Oh, also: he learns how to handle his liquor!)

From Now On (ao3) - buckleyirondad T, 201k

Summary: The Parker Family worked alongside the Starks since the creation of the company.

Following a tragic accident that leaves Peter Parker without a family, Tony goes against the pleas of the people closest to him and decides to adopt Peter. The duo fight against unpredictable odds as they enter a universe bigger than they truly understand. [Pre-Iron Man through to Endgame]

Hold Me Together (ao3) - An_Odd_Idea G, 4k

Summary: Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.

Like Father, Like Son (ao3) - An_Odd_Idea T, 7k

Summary: 48 hours to build a reactor. More accurately, 48 hours to talk Peter through building a reactor. And Tony is chained on the other side of the room.

Peter Parker's Sweet Soul (ao3) - happyaspie G, 7k

Summary: Peter Parker has always had what Ben told him was empathy towards his fellow Man. Science called a sympathetic response or emotional contagion. May called it a sweet soul and Tony called it having a big heart. But Peter? He called it annoying

Or:

5 times Peter hated how sensitive he was and 1 time that it was worth it.

Peter's Ghost and one (1) obnoxious orange stone (ao3) - Bean_reads_fanfic mj/peter, pepper/tony G, 19k

Summary: "Rest," she'd said.

Was this rest? It didn't feel like it.

...But then that's what you get when your soul is tied to Peter Parker's.

(In which Tony's unusual afterlife is explored, and things aren't as permanent as they seem.)

Shake My Hand(And I’ll Forgive You) (ao3) - Frogdottir T, 40k

Summary: “The audience laughed in approval; a sound reminiscent of the Truman Show. Peter dropped his pen. It slid off his notebook and onto the gravel below.

Everybody knew.

Peter tangled his hands in his hair and yanked in a helpless devastation. Happy, Fury, Rhodey, Pepper, the Avengers, Strange, Wong. Everybody knew. Even before the memory of Peter Parker had been wiped from the world. Everybody that mattered had known, and they had all kept it from him.”

or Peter Parker discovers that running from fragments of himself comes with a heavy price.

After all, what is sacrifice without consequence?

stark robotics and technology conference (ao3) - iron_spider T, 4k

Summary: Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

The Chasm Between (ao3) - TheSleepingOwl N/R, 60k

Summary: In which Peter is poor, and Tony is not, and sometimes it becomes a thing.

Tis the Damn Season (For a Christmas Miracle) (ao3) - peacockgirl pepper/tony T, 23k

Summary: Morgan just wants her big brother to come home for Christmas. Tony just wants to figure out why being around his daughter is sending him into a tailspin. And Peter just wants to survive his first Christmas alone without freezing to death in a graveyard.

Luckily Morgan Stark is very, very stubborn. And immune to Strange's spell.

What If? branching off of Long Story Short (It Was a Bad Time) Chapter 10, but you don't need to read that to understand.

[fandomnerd9602]

Planning Jitters

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

The colors are all wrong. I can’t find the right dress. These were the thoughts running through Petra Parker’s mind. She hadn’t had her prom yet and here she was planning her wedding to you, the son of the legendary Tony Stark.

The wedding, along with its usual stresses and jitters, had brought a whole new set of anxieties and worries to the forefront of Petra’s mind. It was all too much for her.

You were loving and gentle with her. Everything a young woman like Petra could want in a husband. The downside was the jokes and jeering that she got at Midtown High.

Guys were jealous of you and girls were jealous of her. There was constant snide remarks of how quickly you two were tying the knot. Rumors spread of her faking a pregnancy or how she was only marrying you for the money.

All of it along with the worries she had led Petra to sit on the Empire State Building. Her feet dangling over the edge. The wind in her hair. The distant sound of cars and people. It all allowed her mind to ease for five seconds or so.

Then came the metallic clank of a power suit behind her.

“Hey Spider Monkey” you said with a gentle smile. “Why do all our talks lead us here?”

“It’s a great view” she shrugged. Petra patted the spot next to her, silently inviting you to join her. You gladly did.

“So what’s eating you?”

“Our wedding plans.” Petra bit her lip, “and everything afterwards”

“O-oh” you blushed a little.

“It scares and excites me. I-I wanna spend my life with you. But are we moving too fast?”

“We don’t have to get married right after high school. We can wait til after college.” You rub the back of your neck. “It scares me too”

“Really?” She looks to you, her hazelnut eyes reflecting the sunlight perfectly.

“Dad gave me the talk when I was younger and I-I don’t want to hurt you. Both in the physical sense and the emotional sense.”

“Y/N…”

“I love you, Petra. But can I be the husband you need? I want to be but I…I’m scared.”

Petra wraps you in a hug as you hug her tight back.

“We’ll solve this together. Maybe we are perfect for each other” she giggles.

“I think we are.” You smiled back. “And don’t listen to those idiots in the hallway. I’ll buy out all their works when they’re older and then fire them.”

“Don’t!” Petra giggles. Her stomach grumbles, “aw crap. I didn’t have-“

You summon your suit and pull our two PB&J sandwiches. Your spider monkey can’t help but smile.

The jitters would pass as would the jeering in the hallway, but your love for Petra Parker will remain eternal 

Tags: @ma1egamer @jacenradio7 @supercorpdanbeau @multi-fandom-enjoyer @holiday-house-of-m @tokufighter @family-house-of-m @ab1nsur @russianredassassin @revanshand @iamnicodemus @iiconicsfan25

[takiki16]

Was watching Coyote Ugly and Bridget Moynahan, who plays Helen Wick, is in it. So now, I fully accept this movie as her origin story. x)

YOU. YES. THIS VIBES. IT FUCKS, EVEN. YEAH.

Loud, proud, angry early 00's fashion Helen, yelling snarky comebacks at her regulars and doing bartender juggling tricks with bottles that would never be allowed past the door of Continental. Helen, dancing on the bar top, emptying a bucket of icy water over her head and absolutely soaking John because he's staring like a fucking creep right up against the bar, horribly out of place and horribly in love. Helen, working the floor and picking up tips, striding boldly up to their nightly fancy suit creep and grabbing a hunk of his hair to pull his face down into the boobs he's been trying not to stare at all night. She waves a pair of scissors teasingly at the hooting night rush crowd, and feels the flinch of hard muscle beneath her hands as the guy puts his hands - not on her ass, but back on his knees.

Helen, after a long shift, standing in a ratty leather jacket outside the cafe as the fancy suit creep awkwardly tries to put the moves on her. She slips a hand into her bag for the brass knuckles her PO definitely doesn't know about.

"Look, dickbag," she says roughly as the guy just keeps staring. "I don't know what you think you're entitled to, but I can and will fuck you up. Move along, this doesn't have to get personal."

"Sorry," says the guy even more awkwardly. "I picked a bad time. I'm not very good at this."

"No shit," snaps Helen. "Now beat it, or I'll tell Romero to call the cops."

"Please don't do that," says Creepy Suit. He doesn't look scared, but the puppy eyes don't go away. Puppy eyes. Zoe would love him. Cammie would eat him alive. "If you don't want to see me again, I'll go."

Helen considers. Despite the creepy stare, the guy isn't bad-looking. Might even be cute, if he dropped the funeral director attitude. He's got an expensive suit on, as well as classy shoes and a watch that Helen knows she could hock for a nice handful of cash right around the corner. He clearly has a thing for her. Probably a repressed stockbroker from north of Midtown whose stuck-up wife wouldn't blow him. Worth at least a couple bills for her - maybe even a grand, if she played him right. If he got weird, she could kick his ass and send him on his way.

How dangerous could he be?

"I didn't say that," Helen says, and smiles. Cocks a hip. Lets him know that she sees him looking. Or not looking, whatever. He really is adorable. "Didn't catch your name."

"John," says Creepy Suit, and it turns out he can smile. "John Wick."