#Peter and peaches against the world

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Peter is yelling, hands cupped at his mouth.

Howie is on his feet, cheering.

Clint’s on the ring edge, calling out tips.

Steve’s staring down the opponent’s boyfriend.

Bucky watches her dodge right, hands up protecting her face. Her knee comes up, connecting with the girl’s side. She stoops, her first mistake. Y/N grabs the back of her head, her toes barely touching the ring mat, before her knee comes back up faster this time. Y/N slams the girl’s head down, meeting her knee. Shoving the girl back, into the ropes, when she stumbles from the knee to the face, Y/N winds up, throwing an absolute ruthless right hook to the jaw.

Her head snaps back, blood spraying, her body goes limp, hitting the mat with a thump.

The Ditch goes nuts, screaming from all sides. Cheering, celebrating, talking shit.

TC dips under the ropes, grabbing Y/N’s hand, holding it up, cheering just as loud.

When the Stark’s meet eyes. Howie and Peter are on their feet. Y/N bounces on her toes, all three at the same time, flex inward, with a loud “AHHHHH!” at one another.

“That’s our girl!” Becca is on her feet, screaming for her best friend.

He grins when his girl locks eyes with him. She grins, rolling her eyes at him.

They still went to The Ditch, sometimes TC worked the decks there. Mainly when Y/N wanted to beat on bitches for kicks. She was getting Becca into it now. Only Y/N’s now fighting top fighters from other areas, coming to see what she’s made of.

Sure she might be taking over the table, running her own mafia, and be the most feared thing in Saints high school, but she’s still the girl that needs a good fight to feel calm. Compromises were made between him and her when they started settling into life together. Like her training with Frankie and TC, after the battle for her, she never wants to be underprepared for another fight. He couldn’t blame her, encouraged her.

The memory of her in the hospital, damaged and broken, burned into his mind for life.

A tight feeling appeared in his chest, worrying about his baby sister taking over.

“Boss man?” She’s next to him, Clint cutting the tape off her hands. Steve, cleaning up the few cuts on her.

“The right hook, baby girl.” He shakes his head, smirking at her. “I’d say it’s blessed by Satan.” He chuckles, leaning into kiss her.

“But I am Satan.” She laughs against him, kissing him again.

“Don’t we know it.” Clint snorts.

“Unlikely to ever forget it.” Steve shakes his head.

“And if you do, I’ll remind you.” She sasses, like a snotty teenager.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” The two mutter at the same time, laughing.

“Ah.” Steve pauses.

“What?” He asks.

Steve scratches the back of his head. “Is that new or old?” He cut his eyes to her thigh and back away.

Fingerprints, on the outside of her thigh, a thumb print on the inside of her thighs.

“Old.” She grins in Steve’s face.

“Scarred for life.” Becca whines, walking away.

Clint looks down and back to her. “That’s hot.” He grins.

“Fuck yeah.” She laughs, they high five.

“Alright, enough of that.” He pushes Clint away, making him laugh.

-----

The house party loud and packed. The typical Friday night high school parties for them. He sat on the couch talking with the guys. “What’s the policy for fighting here?” Howie laughs, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Don’t. Why?” Steve smirks.

“Cause if Smalls sees that girl eye fucking Bucky, that policy won’t matter to her.” Peter laughs.

“Does any rule?” Bucky sighs.

They all laugh.

“Boss man.” She saunters up to them. Dark cut off shorts, a cut short red T-shirt, with a black sports bra underneath. Her ball cap turned backwards, dark hair in messy waves.

“Doll?” He smirks up at her when she comes to stop the side of the couch, he’s on.

She leans down, black fingernails tip his chin up towards her. Her eyes cut to the side and instead of kissing him as he thought. She licks him, from his jaw to his eyebrow. Staring down the girl watching him. She looks startled before she bumps into someone trying to get away.

“Much better.” She smiles pretty walking away.

Peter’s brow yanks down. Howie looks confused. Steve and Clint are unbothered.

“Did our baby sister,” Howie blinks.

“Lick you?” Peter’s eyelids flutter quickly.

“Yup.” Clint and Steve reply, throwing back shorts.

“What in the fuck?” Peter laughs.

“Not new.” Clint shakes his head, downing his beer.

TC is moving towards them, a look of worry on his face.

“What?” He puts his cup down.

“Pretty sure Eddie is across the street.” He jerks his thumb backwards.

They exchange a look between the five of them before jumping up and hurrying out of the house.

Indeed, on the other side of the road, sits Eddie parked, leaning against his car. He smirks at them, as they come to stand on the walkway of the house.

“Gwen get in the house.” Y/N’s voice hits his ears.

“Y/N.” Gwen sounds nervous.

“Wanda stay here.” Y/N orders, he can hear her coming up behind them. She cuts around him, walking down the path, they follow her. She stops on the edge of the curb.

Eddie flicks his eyes from her to Becca, standing next to her.

“Try it.” Y/N warns him.

Eddie smirks, cutting his eyes back to Y/N. They stare back at one another.

She stares him down, Buck looks from Eddie to Y/N, something dark and dangerous in her brown eyes.

It’s Eddie who blinks first, looking away. Suddenly he gets back into his car, leaving.

She turns on them, staring at each of them for a moment.

“Something you boys need to tell me?” Her brow lifts, Becca looks tense next to her.

“We don’t know what that was about.” He assures her.

She nods slowly. Cutting between them heading back towards her girls at the door. The six of them exchange a look, heading for her. She pauses, taking the cup from Gwen, she turns to them standing above them on the front stoop.

“You better swear on whatever god you believe in, Boss man; you didn’t lie to me.” She repeats the saying from the beginning, when they first started out and Ben Rielly and Sina were causing issues for them. The ice cold look in her eyes, makes his steps stop suddenly.

“I’ll make your life hell, James Barnes, you think before was rough, you haven’t seen shit yet.” She warns him. Turning, she steps into the house between her friends, walking away.

Fear creeps into his chest.

He swallows hard.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @nunu2888 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @destiel-artemis @hookslove1592 @CallSign-Vesta @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[darkspellmaster]

Wish is just a normal Disney film just like all the rest.

Wish is actually a damn good movie, there I said it!

I'm going to start by saying this much, it's very odd to me that so many people are now screaming for a love story from Disney, when not even five or ten years ago there was shouting from the roof tops about Disney doing TOO MUCH romance. For the longest time it was "I wish Disney wouldn't do pairings" "Ugh another romance, can't the princess not." Etc. Now everyone wants one, even though Romance isn't really as big a Disney trope as people think.

Actually let's go through the animated catalogue and see how frequently the love story is centered as the main conflict and asperation to the character. In this case it's the key thing, not a 'Oh they happen to like each other in the end' situation, it's THE thing, the point of the movie is their romance. Then let's see how many have it as the secondary aspect, and let's see how many have it as not important at all. (And we're talking romantic love, not family love)

Romance (Total number: 15)

Snow White, Lady and the Tramp, The Aristocats, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Secondary Characters hook up so this is a weird one), Doug's First Movie, Tarzan, Lizzie McGuire the Movie, Enchanted, The Princess and the Frog (Only from Naveen's POV), Tangled (could be seen as secondary too)

Secondary (Total Number: 25)

Fantasia, Bambi, Make Mine Music, Fun and Fancy Free , Melody Time, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, Cinderella Sleeping Beauty

One Hundred and One Dalmatians , Robin Hood, The Rescuers , The Fox and the Hound , Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Rescuers Down under

The Nightmare before Christmas, The Lion King ,Hercules ,Mulan ,Fantasia 2000 , Dinosaur, Atlantis the Lost Empire , Meet the Robinsons , Frankenweenie ,Frozen, , Strange World

Not in it at all (Total Number: 42 -including Wish)

Pinocchio, The Reluctant Dragon, Dumbo, Saludos Amigos, Victory through Air power, Three Caballeros, Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan

Sword in the Stone, The Jungle Book, The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, The Black Cauldron, The Great Mouse Detective

Oliver and Company, Ducktales the Treasure of the lost lamp, A Goofy Movie, James and the Giant Peach, The Tigger Movie

The Emperor's new Groove, Recess School's out, Return to Neverland, Lilo and Stich, Treasure Planet, The Jungle Book 2

Piglet's big Movie, Brother Bear, Teacher's Pet, Home on the Range, Pooh's Heffalump Movie, Chicken Little, The Wild

Bolt, Winnie the Pooh, Wreck it Ralph, Big Hero 6, Zootopia, Moana, Wreck it Ralph 2, Frozen 2, Raya and the Last Dragon, Encanto, Wish

These are just the animated not live action, and not live action with animation movies. All in all it's more common to see a Disney film with NO romance in it at all then a romantic one.

So why is it that people keep saying, but we're missing the romance, it's because of the fact that most of the time the Parks and other media pair the characters together. Take Peter pan, in the movie, the boy is utterly oblivious to Wendy's affections, to the point of pissing her off enough that she leaves the party that the tribe is hosting. In the parks, and other media (the plays, other movies) the romance is in your face, because people want them to be a couple, but in the movie itself you never see it.

Star, based on the making of book, was supposed to be a younger version of Asha's grandfather, which fits the theming of the movie. However, from what I understand, one of the reasons why they went against is was because it was hitting to close to Genie in the shape shifting. On top of that, the character of Star, seems heavily inspired by the art work of William Joyce, who created Night Light.

This is him and Katherine (Future Mother Goose) who is basically Star in a lot of ways. He lights the night to keep the nightmares away. These two eventually grow up (He remembers He's jack frost) and they end up as a couple.

It would be apping off of that story, and sadly people didn't give the William Joyce movie Meet the Robinsons a chance (don't sleep on that folks please! It is a good story.)

Also straight up give more love to the Guardian's of Childhood, you'll be happy while you read it.

I'm not saying don't ship it, what I am saying is that please don't go saying this was planned when it really wasn't. That was supposed to be her grandfather there.

And I'm not against the art work, I find it very cute and sweet and lover the designs. But I do think that the whole, "WE WERE ROBBED!" thing isn't being at all fair to the creative team behind this story, as again, *points up* they were following the tradition of a story that doesn't have a love interest, which is the vast majority of the stories that they tell.

Wish perfectly falls in line also with Disney's normal length of animated movies.

Wish was 1 hours and 35 minutes

The movie that came out before it clocked in at

Strange World = 1 hours and 42 minutes

Moana = 1 hours and 47 minutes

Frozen = 1 hours and 42 minutes

This Hour long movie thing started really with Atlantis the Lost Empire = 1 hours and 36 minutes

While Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Mulan, Lilo and Stitch all clock in around =1 hour and 30 at most, some are even less than that. Wish's run time is equal to that of Atlantis, or Aladdin, or Treasure planet. So I'm a bit perplexed on the "It's too short" thing. Maybe growing up just before and during the days of Little Mermaid and Aladdin made me like the shorter tales.

Which is another point. With a shorter movie, you never get complete backstory. It's a fairy tale! I mean, look at Little Mermaid. Seriously can you Name any of her sisters from the opening song.

Like seriously, I don't really know a lot of people who can tell me anything about Aquatica, for example. Unless you actually read the books or watched the TV show. And before then we had nothing. Nothing on her mom, nothing on her sisters.

Then there's the town Belle comes from, what do we know about it? Not much, not even who governs the damn thing. Howe about Aladdin before the TV series and King of thieves cleared up everything. We didn't know who his parents were, nor Jasmine's mom. Hell we still don't know anything about Cinderella's father from the animated movie.

Point being, a lot of information, much like Wish, got cut for time. In Snow white we were supposed to be given a longer back story for her father and mother, that was cut due to it being to long, it's in the golden book though. Prince Florian (Yes that is his name) was supposed to have Prince Phillips escape, but it was deemed to hard to animate at the time.

Also there was one that was dancing on the clouds, with STARS, around them that looks very much like you know, our Star.

So basically, he's a nod to what could have been for Snow White all those years ago. Cut for time.

Aladdin had a whole cut song because they chopped his mother out as she was supposed to play a part in the movie and help her son with the Genie.

Zena is her name and she was cut to streamline the film.

Maid Marian in the original Robin Hood was supposed to protect him after his plunge into the water, and protect him from King John while he's threatening her. King Richard appears in the end and scares him into stopping but she's willing to take a dagger to the chest to protect Robin.

This is when Richard meets Robin with Marian telling him all about what happened.

All Disney movies change. Isabel in Encanto was supposed to have a nerdy boyfriend that the family disapproved of.

Hell, Frozen was at one point going to be the Bad guy wins the guy, the hero (Gerta) that we followed all the way to the end rooting for her, was supposed to be a gold digger, and Kai was supposed to say "Nah, I'm gonna stick with the Snow Queen" because she's sad and your a bitch. (Thanks Eisner, I hate it!)

So yeah, there's probably A whole lot of cut content that was supposed to go in, but to streamline it to 95 minutes, you have to cut! At least it's not what happened to the Black Cauldron. No I will never forgive Katzenburg for that travesty!

Disney always used Popular Music over Broadway

Honestly this is the one complaint that I hear that kills me the most about this movie, that the studio went with a pop music team. As if this is not a common thing for Disney movies!

Fun fact, the team behind most of the musical scores up until the 1960s were all composers and musicians that wrote songs for the radio. Or song writers that did radio music. If I listed every single one we'd be here for ages.

The Sherman brothers actually wrote pop tunes for the Teen sweetheart Annette Funicello and several other well known singers and actors of movies.

The first major Broadway group was Ashman and Menken, Followed by Miranda, and the Lopez's. Most, if not all of the biggest Disney songs were written by pop songwriters, whos goal it was to get that song played on the radio.

Hell The Lion King, Tarzan, The Emperors New Groove, and Treasure planet to name a few were all done by Pop musicians. I didn't hear complaining about it back then! What's the difference now? Because the team is not Elton freaking John, or Sting?

All of Oliver and Company was pop songs. Several movies didn't have songs, or only had one.

If we're going to celebrate a studio that helped bring an artform out of it's infancy and show that you could do a full movie of animated pictures where you get emotions out of it, we need to celebrate all aspects, and that includes things we may not realize are kind of unique.

When Hercules and Hunchback came out, people complained about them not being "Traditional" Disney. It was Gospel, it was too dark, or in the case of Tarzan, why are we following a boy, or Treasure planet, "Yuck a space story". Now people adore these movies. People who grew up with them want to celebrate them, and sometimes they don't realize that they were once derided as hard or harder than Wish is being right now.

I just wish that people would give these movies a chance rather than not let the creatives tell their story. We had a whole damn section of 2D animation in Strange World! No one talked about it! No one went "More of this please". Give me these stories, let me enjoy a original fairy tale, because if we keep rehashing things, there's going to be little to celebrate when the next 10 or 20 years rolls around.

Sorry for the kinda rant. This has just been on my nerves for a while.

[ghelgheli]

The Stuff I Read in January 2024

bold indicates favourites

Novels

Death's End, Cixin Liu

The Maze Runner/The Scorch Trials/The Death Cure, James Dashner

Echopraxia, Peter Watts

Other Long-Form

Against the Gendered Nightmare, baedan [anarchist library]

Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism, Lenin

What Is To Be Done, Lenin

Yuri/GL

Ring My Bell, Yeongol

Dallae, Choonae

Now Loading! Mikanuji

Even If It Was Just Once, I Regret It / Ichido Dake Demo, Koukai Shitemasu, Miyako Miyahara

Maka-Maka, Torajirou Kishi

Blooming Sequence, Lee Eul

Love Bullet, inee

Honey Latte Girl, Ayu Inui

I'm Sorry I Know / Wakatte Iru No Ni Gomenna, Ayu Inui

Night and Moon / Yoru to Umi, Goumoto

Handsome Girl and Sheltered Girl / Ikemen Onna to Hakoiri Musume, Mochi au Lait & majoccoid

The Forbidden Peach / Suimitsutou Ha Shoujo Ni Kajirareru, Iroha Amasaki

Goodbye, My Rose Garden, Dr Pepako

Blood Lust, yoshimired [link]

Palestine

The Grim Reality of Israel's Corpse Politics, Jaclynn Ashly [jacobin]

Mohammed El-Kurd and Ahmad Alnaouq on the complicity of mainstream media in Israel’s genocidal attack on Gaza [link]

Inside Israel's torture camp for Gaza detainees, Yuval Abraham [archive]

The Work of the Witness, Sarah Aziza [link]

Who profits from keeping Gaza on the brink of humanitarian catastrophe? Shir Hever [archive]

Misreading Palestine, Max Ajl [link]

A Pediatrician's Two Weeks Inside a Hospital in Gaza, Isaac Chotiner [link]

A Palestinian Meditation in a Time of Annihilation, Fady Joudah [link]

Gender/Sexuality

Assigned Faggot: Gender Roles, Sex, and the Division of Labour, Sophia Burns [link]

Gendered Bodies: The Case of the 'Third Gender' in India, Anuja Agrawal [doi]

Paola Revenioti: The Greek transgender activist on blowing up sexual taboos in the name of art, Hannack Lack [link]

Wages Against Housework, Silvia Federici [pdf]

My Words to Victor Frankenstein above the Village of Chamounix: Performing Transgender Rage, Susan Stryker [pdf]

Race

This is Crap, Hannah Black [link]

Social Constructions, Historical Grounds, Shay-Akil McLean [link]

White Psychodrama, Liam K. Bright [doi]

‘I don’t think you’re going to have any aborigines in your world’: Minecrafting terra nullius, Ligia López López, Lars de Wildt, Nikki Moodie [doi]

Singular Purpose: Calculating the Degree of Ethno-Religious Over-representation in the US No-Fly List, Matteo Garofalo [doi]

Iran

Samad Behrangi's Experiences and Thoughts on Rural Teaching and Learning, M. H. Fereshteh [jstor]

The "Westoxication" of Iran: Depictions and Reactions of Behrangi, al-e Ahmad, and Shariati, Brad Hanson [jstor]

Geographies of Capital and Capital of Geographies: Reckoning the Embodied City of Tehran through Cosmetic Surgeries, Marzieh Kaivanara

Economics

China in Africa: A Critical Assessment, Ahjamu Umi [link]

Small Scale Farmers and Peasants Still Feed the World, Report by ETC Group [link]

16 Million and Counting: The Collateral Damage of Capital [link]

The Keynesian Counterrevolution, Mike Beggs [jacobin]

Jobs For All, Mike Beggs [jacobin]

Other

How This Climate Activist Justifies Political Violence, David Marchese interviewing Andreas Malm [NYT]

Against Domestication, Jacques Camatte [marxists dot org]

The Annihilation of Caste, B. R. Ambedkar, [archive]

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Safe

Wikipedia calls Todd Haynes’ SAFE (1995, DVD) a psychological horror film, while the IMDb lists it simply as a drama. To me it also has elements of high comedy, albeit a fairly wintery one. Carol White’s (Julianne Moore) development of an undisclosed illness disrupts the carefully sculpted lives of her upper-middle-class cohorts. It queers their socially sanctioned domesticity, which reflects one of the basic conflicts of the horror film. At the same time, her character, a woman who’s been raised to be the object of someone else’s life and has neither thoughts nor words of her own, could be viewed as a horror. Her body becomes the monster rebelling against social repression.

Moore lives in a world of peach and teal, as well as numerous chemicals, from the automobile exhaust on the Southern California streets and freeways to the sprays and cleaners her housekeeper uses right next to the family’s food. When she starts feeling ill, she can’t describe her symptoms concretely because she has no words of her own. So, her husband and friends view her malaise as an annoyance, and her doctor decides she needs a psychiatrist. Then she sees a sign offering support services for people with multiple chemical sensitivity and not only attends sessions but also moves to a New Age community in the desert that’s as rigidly structured and unforgiving as the suburban life she’s had to escape. The guru (Peter Friedman) teaches the residents their medical and mental problems all stem from lack of self-love. But how can Moore love a self that doesn’t exist?

Haynes does his best to distance us from Moore’s character. There are very few closeups in the film, and he times scenes to throw in a dash of absurdity at the end. When Carol’s husband (Xander Berkeley) has sex with her with no regard for her needs, she finishes the encounter by patting him on the shoulder. Friedman makes big pronouncements about learning not to blame others for your problems, but then Haynes undercuts him with a cheesy group sing or a reaction shot from Carol’s visiting stepson, who can clearly see what he’s full of. And just to make sure you don’t miss the point, there’s a quick shot of Friedman’s home, a mansion in the hills looking down on the cheap cabins where the paying customers stay. Haynes also has an uncanny sense of detail.  The suburban houses, all in in the same colors, seem to have been decorated impersonally (a friend in the catering business has said that some of his richest clients simply hired people to fill their homes with objects that had no personal meaning to them). And Carol’s move from her suburban world to the support groups and retreat is reflected in the change from women around her who look like dolls — all with similar hair, dresses and makeup — to women who look like human beings, with faces and bodies society would view as imperfect.

Moore’s characterization is conceptual. She speaks in a high-pitched, breathy voice and keeps her eyes wide open. But she also manages to live within those technical choices. At times she seems to be giving Shelly Duvall’s best performance. There’s also gemlike supporting work from Friedman, Kate McGregor-Stewart as the retreat’s enthusiastic administrator, Jessica Harper as a fellow patient dealing with her young son’s death, Mary Carver as a resident angry about her husband’s death and James Le Gros as a resident who’d like to break the retreat’s no-sex rule with Moore. The film is a trifle too long. Haynes makes all the points we need about Carol’s home environment and then keeps going. And some critics found the ending too ambiguous. I thought it was a fascinating capper to the way Carol can only express ideas she’s already received. It may be the film’s most horrifying moment.

[mimicteruyo]

Closing Time

The night had grown old, and the first signs of dawn were already threatening to spill over the horizon. Accordingly, the bustle around Mystia's cart had long since petered out.

As it happened, Mystia had rung the bell to announce she was closing over half an hour ago, but still two customers remained. She sincerely hoped they weren't planning to dine and dash — between them, they had ordered enough food and drink for eight.

She wiped the counters again, neatly dodging around Kyouko as she entered the cart to escape the bugs outside. It was her policy to keep serving until the very last customer paid up, and she wasn't quite bored enough to revoke that policy just yet. She could wait for as long as it took. Or for at least another fifteen minutes.

She hummed under her breath as she worked, replaying sections of her new song in her mind over and over. She had it almost right by now. She couldn't wait to surprise Kyouko with it.

"How long are they gonna take?" Kyouko kept tapping her foot while simultaneously idly banging her tray against her leg. "Soon I won't make it back to the temple before I need to start sweeping the courtyard."

"You can go. I can handle two customers alone."

Kyouko paused in her fidgeting to shake her head. "It's okay, really. I wanna see how much our total for the night is."

"I've already estimated it." Mystia grinned. "We just might have enough."

Kyouko's ears perked up. She was at least as excited as Mystia was that they just might be able to buy the extremely cool Outside World guitar with its even cooler flame decals in time for their next concert. When she resumed drumming her leg, she did so with a song on her lips.

Mystia paused and listened to her closely. The tune sounded good. And completely unfamiliar.

"...Duelling new songs?" she finally asked, tilting her head.

The surprise on Kyouko's face quickly morphed into delight. "Just wait till you hear mine! It's gonna wake up everyone in Gensokyo when we play it!"

They were grinning at each other, already picturing the roaring smash concert, when there was a heavy thump against the cart. Mystia jumped without meaning to as they turned their heads just in time to see a clawed hand latch onto the door frame.

The person who dragged herself into view was a kamaitachi not much larger than Mystia and Kyouko. She was unsteady on her feet, and the corners of her lips were shiny with grease. "I wanna isshue a complaint."

Mystia resisted the urge to sigh. "If you could first move to the front of the cart, dear customer. Then I'll be happy to hear your complaints."

The kamaitachi didn't budge. She swayed in the doorway like a reed in heavy wind before rising to her full, still not particularly impressive, height. "The food here'sh dishgracheful."

Now that was just plain rude. "I'm sorry to hear that, b—"

"The menu'sh all wrong," the kamaitachi lamented as though she was beginning a long tale of woe. "There ain't anything shweet on it to go with my drinksh."

Mystia and Kyouko exchanged looks.

"I will keep that in mind the next time I revise it," said Mystia. "If you want something sweet now, I could try making you a peach sa—"

"And another thing!" The kamaitachi interrupted. "Where'sh all the chicken?!"

It had been a while since Mystia had last been asked about the lack of poultry on the menu. She hadn't missed it at all. "We don't serve bird meat here. How about some grilled lam—"

"I already had lamprey!" The kamaitachi said in a voice halfway between a growl and a whine. "'Shnot the shame at all! I want chicken! Or shome other bird, at leasht."

Mystia had heard it said that the customer was always right. She suspected whoever had coined the phrase had never dealt with a drunk customer only a few moments away from suggesting she could go for some grilled shop owner.

She glanced at Kyouko again. The situation wasn't necessarily dangerous yet — she could still play her ace in the hole and offer a free drink  — but with the kamaitachi so firmly blocking the only way out, she was starting to have a less than great feeling about this.

As it happened, Kyouko looked just about ready to shout. Knowing that would definitely start a fight, Mystia hurried to speak. "Dear customer, how about we—"

Before she could finish, the kamaitachi yelped as she was swept away from the door. A spray of red and yellow bullets shot into the night after her.

"She told you there's no chicken," a voice rang from without, chirpy but almost rivalling Kyouko's bellows in resonance. "Let it go!"

"What'sh the big idea?" The kamaitachi stumbled back into view, more startled than angry. "I ain't looking for trouble. I jusht wanna eat chicken! Even ya musht...er..."

With a look of dawning horror, the kamaitachi vanished into the night.

Mystia stirred as she heard running footsteps heading away from the cart and rushed outside. "Hey! You can't leave without paying!"

The kamaitachi didn't even slow down. There was a tinkling of coins as she threw something haphazardly onto the grass. "I'll pay the resht later!"

"...Oh no." Mystia already knew she would never see the rest of the money. She could eat the loss, but it was situations like these which made her wish she had higher profit margins.

"...I'll go see what she left behind." Kyouko had hurried over to Mystia's side and now scurried into the shadows.

Before Mystia could follow after her, the lone remaining customer seated herself by the bar. The small chick dozing off in the soft confines of her hair accessory opened its eyes and made a small peep.

"Go back to sleep." The mysterious customer stroked the chick gently with her index finger as she gave Mystia an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I ended up causing you trouble. I didn't mean to."

As nettled as Mystia was, she found herself sighing. "No, I understand why you spoke up. I really do."

The customer nodded with the same solemnity as Wriggle did whenever she and Mystia got together to lament the challenges faced by insects and small birds respectively. "I'd like to make up for it anyway."

"That's very generous of you, Miss..."

"You can call me Kutaka!"

Just then, Kyouko stumbled back into the cart, cupping her hands. "I think I got all of it. The grass is pretty tall so I can't be sure, but..."

Mystia studied the miscellaneous small coins on Kyouko's palms. While she still couldn't make heads or tails of written language, she had always been quick at counting. "It's better than nothing." She peered closer. "And the bits of coloured glass?"

"Maybe they're supposed to pass for jewels?" Kyouko took one of the smooth-edged glass drops between thumb and forefinger and brought it closer to the nearest lantern. It shone like a ruby in the light. "I don't think even fairies would fall for these, but they're still pretty."

"By how much did she leave you short?" Kutaka asked, leaning across the bar.

"Only a little." Mystia said, giving Kutaka a resigned smile. "You don't have to worry about it."

"I want to take care of it! I need to pay now anyway."

Mystia could have continued to demur, of course, but it would have felt churlish. Besides, fancy guitars didn't pay for themselves. "In that case, thank you."

Kutaka smiled as she paid, almost as if she loved using money. "Thanks and goodbye!"

Just like that, she was back on her feet and gone with a cheery wave.

"Um..." Kyouko blinked like someone waking up from a dream, then gave Mystia a worried look. "Is it enough?"

Mystia laid the money on the bar so that Kyouko could see it for herself, then remembered she wouldn't know the total. "It's enough."

Kyouko's ears rose. "So that means..."

Mystia grinned. "The guitar's ours."

"YES!" While nowhere near her maximum volume, Kyouko's cry of joy rang out far and wide. Without further warning, she threw her arms around Mystia and squeezed her tight. "Can we go buy it tomorrow?"

Mystia hugged her back, laughing. "Of course! And then we'll practise our new songs!"

"The next concert's gonna be the best one ever!"

They kept laughing for a long while. Only after they pulled apart did Mystia notice something strange. "Hold on. Where did the tray go?"

"Oh no!" Kyouko stared into the night, then dashed out of the cart. "I'll be right back!"

---

By the time the tray was found and Mystia and Kyouko had hauled the cart to its usual spot at the edge of the clearing, Mystia could taste daylight in the air. "I'm going to be so tired tomorrow."

"Me too." Even as she said it, Kyouko was smiling. "It's gonna be worth it."

They parted ways with a wave and a promise to meet up again as soon as possible.

Mystia watched Kyouko vanish down the path before turning towards her home. As she walked, she tossed the glass jewels Kyouko had graciously left in her care in her hand. She smiled at them, wondering if real rubies, emeralds, and sapphires would actually be a disappointment in comparison.

Just as she thought that, the shadows shifted by the tree to her right. She jerked back, immediately regretting she hadn't been holding a spell card instead. Her horror diminished as she saw pale wings and an earnest smile. "Miss Kutaka? I thought you'd gone home."

Kutaka beamed. "I was waiting for you."

"Um... why?"

"Actually..." Kutaka tilted her head to the side rapidly as if trying to dislodge something stuck to the side of her head. "I forget why. I know there was a reason, but..."  Eventually, she simply shrugged. "Since I'm here anyway, how about we walk together?"

Mystia hesitated. But then, why not? Kutaka didn't seem like someone who was simply biding her time to mug Mystia. "I'm not going far, but I'd be glad for the company."

Kutaka joined her side. For a few minutes, they simply walked without speaking. The silence lasted long enough for Mystia to start feeling awkward, and to allay the feeling, she focused on the chick in Kutaka's hair. It was fast asleep now and looked very cosy as it bounced up and down with Kutaka's steps. Mystia envied it a little.

Kutaka noticed Mystia's stare and smiled again. "I gave it some morsels from my dish. I've never seen a chick peck at anything so eagerly before."

"I'm happy to hear it."

"You're a wonderful cook! The noodles were so tasty."

"Um, thank you." Mystia peered at Kutaka in confusion. Maybe instead of a mugger, she was a confidence trickster. Even with that suspicion, Mystia saw nothing but sincerity in her expression. "I think it'd be even better with some seaweed powder in the sauce, but that's hard to come by."

"I see." Kutaka stared up at the pale dawn. "If I ever see some, I'll keep you in mind!"

"You don't have to."

"It's selfish of me, really. I want to know what your sauce will taste like with it!"

Mystia found some of the tension she had been unknowingly carrying in her body evaporate. "If I find some myself, I'll make sure to save it until your next visit."

"It's a promise!"

They continued talking for the remainder of the short trip, soon finding a rhythm of conversation that suited them both. In fact, by the time they parted, Mystia found herself with too much left to say.

"I hope to see you again soon!" she said quickly, hoping it wasn't too weird.

Based on the jaunty wave Kutaka gave her, it wasn't. "I don't have a lot of spare time, but I'll do my best! Take care!"

Mystia watched Kutaka go, then flew up to her house. As long as the night had been, it had been a good one. The next day would be phenomenal.

She got ready for bed in record time and was soon dozing off, thinking drowsily about food and music and having fun with her friends.

Oh, that's right. I forgot to invite Kutaka to the concert. But that could wait until another day and another closing time. For now, it was time for night sparrows to sleep.

[roguestorm]

in case no one's answered your tags about the new ultimate universe (6160) yet: yes, it's different from old ults (1610)! it's been going on since late last year, i'm personally loving everything so far, and i think you'd specially enjoy the x-men title!

the connection between the two universes is that 1610!reed (the maker) escaped from prison and travelled to a different dimension where he manipulated everything so that most heroes never got their powers or decided to fight crime. things happen, and the heroes that would become the ultimates start giving out powers and guidance to the would-be superheroes, in hopes they would decide to join their cause and "fix" their world (all of this is from ultimate invasion 1-4 and ultimate universe 1, both by hickman). the ongoings so far are:

ultimate spider-man (by hickman), where peter is married to mj, has two kids, and works at the bugle where he's basically family, but he feels like something is missing from his life. then he gets a mysterious orb and a message about how he was destined for something greater and had this stolen from him. inside the orb, there's a spider.

ultimate black panther (by bryan edward hill), where wakanda is basically the only place where the maker's forces haven't managed to conquer, despite the efforts of africa's overseers (a duo that calls themselves moon knight). this isolation is disrupted when a suicide bomber kills t'challa's father, and he leaves the country to investigate what is going on outside the border. there, he meets and partners with two rebels fighting against moon knight's men: killmonger and storm.

ultimate x-men (by peach momoko), which is set entirely in japan (here known as hi no kuni) and stars a young hisako ichiki dealing with the recent suicide of a close friend. it's quite different in tone from what you'd expect, very self-contained and skewing more towards horror than action as a genre. we haven't gotten there yet but apparently the x-men in this universe are going to be a teenage japanese girl gang.

and the ultimates (by deniz camp), which only had its first issue released this month, so there's not much to say yet, but some character choices seem very interesting.

Yes, someone had answered my question, but thank you for all this information! A very helpful breakdown :)

I have to say that as a marketing move I think it is an astonishingly bad idea to call your second smaller interconnected universe the same thing as your first. Especially if they’re trying to appeal to new fans? Although, to be fair, I don’t know if that is the pitch.

It being Hickman might explain why I haven’t paid attention — I tend to tune out when they announce a new large Hickman project.

I definitely will check out Momoko’s X-Men series, and I might read the Black Panther as well. I’ve liked enough of Hill’s work in the past to give it a chance.

[comicweek]

ULTIMATE UNIVERSE: A NEW ERA BEGINS | Official Trailer | Marvel Comics

ULTIMATE UNIVERSE #1 Written by JONATHAN HICKMAN Art by STEFANO CASELLI Colors by DAVID CURIEL Cover by BRYAN HITCH On Sale November 1

ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #1 Written by JONATHAN HICKMAN Art and Cover by MARCO CHECCHETTO On Sale January 10

Revolutionary writer Jonathan Hickman and acclaimed artist Marco Checchetto (DAREDEVIL) bring you a bold new take on Spider-Man, with the debut title of the new line of Ultimate Comics! After the events of ULTIMATE INVASION, the world needs a hero… who will rise up to take on that responsibility? Prepare to be entangled in a web of mystery and excitement as the all-new ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN comic redefines the wall-crawler for the 21st Century!

Teasing the series, Hickman said, "ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN is a book I never thought I'd be writing. It's a bit of a Peter B. Parker situation..."

ULTIMATE BLACK PANTHER #1 Written by BRYAN HILL Art and Cover by STEFANO CASELLI On Sale February 7

In the wake of ULTIMATE INVASION, Khonshu and Ra—the force known together as Moon Knight—are seeking to expand their brutal control of the continent of Africa. In response, the lone bulwark against them, the isolated nation of Wakanda, will send forth its champion…its king…the Black Panther! From the creative minds of Bryan Hill (BLADE, KILLMONGER) and Stefano Caselli (X-MEN RED, AVENGERS) comes a bold new take on the world of Black Panther and Wakanda!

"I was invigorated by this opportunity because in addition to my immense respect for Jonathan Hickman’s detailed storytelling, the idea of shepherding this bold new take on Black Panther in this event gives me a platform to do the kind of broad, epic, storytelling I’ve always wanted to do in comics," Hill said.

“My influences range from the history of BLACK PANTHER comics to Ryan Coogler’s incredible work with the recent films, to Frank Herbert’s worldbuilding capacity of Dune," he added. "This is something people won’t expect, in the best of ways, and full credit to Marvel and editors Wil Moss and Michelle Marchese for bringing this creative possibility to me."

ULTIMATE X-MEN #1 Written by PEACH MOMOKO Art and Cover by PEACH MOMOKO On Sale March 6

Visionary creator Peach Momoko reinvents mutantkind for the Ultimate age! In Japan, when a young student named Hisako Ichiki develops armor powers, she discovers she’s a mutant—and she’s not the only one! Meet a new generation of mutants, filled with original and familiar X-Men characters. Together, they’ll learn what it means to be mutant in the Ultimate Universe as they explore their emerging powers and the startling ways they connect to folklore, legend, and magic!

“I am very honored to be a part of the new Ultimate Universe,” Momoko said. “I am very careful in delivering the unique X-Men mutant elements while still being true to my vision and voice."

"I am also very proud (and surprised) that I was given enough freedom from C.B. Cebulski and Jonathan Hickman to create a brand-new X-Men character," she shared. "It might not be the normal portrayal of a super hero…but I am excited to introduce everyone to a new chapter to my Momoko-verse.”

[hinataxsunshine]

alt! - tell me all about them

|| ooc ; all about them ?!? spoiling me for real. oh my gods I have so many to choose from. So I’ll try and keep it short by choosing three of my faves. Click Read More cause it’s gonna be a lot. This is seriously long. Be warned

slight edit after writing all of these characters; I have a type of character I like to make and somehow chose my three big ones that share that type. Oops.

a. Elliot Ballard - Stranger Things

OKAY! Technically my second OC for Strangee Things but I love this boy okay?

006 was one of the early experiments much like Peter/001. At a young age, he clung close to Peter and would not want to leave his side. He’s able to harness and manipulate sound and energy— and it’s highly unstable as a kid. He would have frequent outburst so much that Brenner decided to do what he did for Peter and chipped 006. He gave him the name Elliot and he became a orderly just like Peter.

Peter seemed to be the only one who could calm down Elliot, even after being chipped. Elliot had drawn sort of an obsession with the older male and it got so bad, that he would do anything. No questions asked. The night that he was sent to the upside down, before the incident— 011 had removed the microchips from both of the orderlies.

011 had a close relationship with Elliot, and Elliot even thought of her as a little sister. So he didn’t know how to feel as he watched from the window of the door as she sent the one who he cared about (a little too) deeply into a portal. He fled from the scene, sneaking out through the vents and hiding away in the woods.

There’s many paths that I have Elliot take. One is where he stays hidden and out of view till what would be s4 of Stranger Things, and he’d try to infiltrate the group, befriending Mike on the plane ride and performing tasks for Vecna. Another path is he’s found by Hopper and taken in. And well Elliot’s obsession starts projecting onto Hopper and acting like how he would with Peter

Basically Elliot is a dangerous lovesick boy, who would do anything for the one he loves.. maybe I have a archetype.

b. Olive Salinger - You

Like Stranger Things, I have many OC/Variations for the You Universe. But Olive is probably my main one. He’s the younger brother of Peach, and he’s kind of a playboy. He has frequent parties at his suite and never has a boyfriend longer than a week. But that changes when he meets his close friend Beck’s boyfriend, Joe.

He’s enamoured with Joe, but since Beck is one of his only true friends— he won’t try and take him. But he knows his friend, and knows that Beck won’t keep him long. She’s not the type to stay with good guys.

At one point, Joe tries to pin Olive against Peach by telling him that she’s obsessed with her— and would happily give him up for her. But Olive loves Peach, even if she is a major bitch. But he also like Joe. I don’t have much planned about S1 with Olive and Peach, as I’ve been rewriting him but long story short after the events of s1, and Joe leaves— Olive travels the world

Towards the end of s3, Olive arrives in the town of Madre Linda, and runs into Joe.. Quinn-Goldberg? Olive is coy but he says nothing. He knows Joe’s true nature now, but he still likes Joe— even if he’s married now and has a kid. So he’s civil with Love, but he doesn’t like her as much. He’s heard of her before, through the vine. And before Love can do any sort of background check, her life is already falling apart and s3 would be finish.

Olive leaves with Joe, opting that even though he knows there’s no romantic chance ( or.. romance route. possibility. ) with him, he wants to help. Be his aide basically. And they arrive in London. Since I haven’t finished s4, his story isn’t finished. But basically he helps Joe/Jonathon settle into the rich world since he’s used to it.

c. Caspian Covington - DND

I fucking love DND, and he’s one of my favorite favorite boys so I wanted to talk about him— since technically he’s an OC.

He’s a Water Genasi who he grew up in the royal life. He’s a Younger Twin to Castor— his favorite brother. Growing up, Caspian knew something was wrong when he was a young child. The guards always looked at him weird, and so he tried sneaking around and learning more. But he learned too much, and his father was cruel. So from childhood to his teen years, Caspian was succumbed to torture by the guards or even his own ‘father’

Caspian has found out that him and Castor were not true heirs to the throne. They were swapped at birth. But yet, he said nothing. For punishments on anything he did.. or even sometimes for fun— his hands would be scarred or even once his hair was shaved. So he would wear fancy gloves to hide his scars. He never told Castor anything, because although he was the youngest— he had the urge to protect his brother. Castor fit well into the life, and he would ruin that with his problems. His only three ally’s were his brother, his younger sister, and his human trainer Varian— who was captured when Caspian was a young teen and tasked to train Castor and Caspian. But Caspian sucked at swords.

But on their 18th birthday, it was revealed the truth. And the two were cast out of the castle. Castor, having the idea that he could make things right by finding the original twins— proposed the idea of being pirates. He didn’t like it at first, but he’d do anything for his brother. So they become pirates, the two amateurs managing to take over the ship called the Angel Storm and became the captains

During his journey, he discovered that he had been born with Magic, but was dormant until he had needed to protect his brother. Caspian is a good captain, but he follows his brothers lead— using his magic to help and fight. Caspian also now has a father figure— Everand who is there quarter master, and Angel and Dashie who are close friends of his.

Now, he is currently fighting his wild magic and constant breakdowns as he is focused on finding Castor— who was taken in the void after a task by a captain who they have a contract with. He has given up the title of Captain temporarily— and given it to Vee/Varian. He now spends his time researching his magic and new ways to find Castor

…I’m sorry for the long post, I just love talking about my OCs and to anyone who will listen

[hatingwithfears]

BOOKS READ IN 2022

Here’s the complete list of books I managed to read in 2022.

168 books. 54,494 pages.

Renata Adler- Speedboat

Kendra Allen- The Collection Plate

Jonathan Alter- His Very Best: Jimmy Carter, A Life

Kenneth Anger- Hollywood Babylon

Jason Bailey- Fun City Cinema: New York City and the Movies That Made It

Peter Baker, Susan Glasser- The Divider: Trump in The White House 2017-2021

JG Ballard- The Atrocity Exhibition

Julien Barnes- Elizabeth Finch

Brit Bennett- The Vanishing Half

Charles M. Blow- The Devil You Know: A Black Power Manifesto

Anthony Bourdain- Medium Raw

Anthony Bourdain, Laurie Woolever- World Travel: An Irreverent Guide

Box Brown- Cannabis: The Illegalization of Weed in America

Mariah Carey, Michaela Angela Davis- The Meaning of Mariah Carey

Nick Cave & Sean O’Hagan- Faith, Hope, and Carnage

David Chang- Eat a Peach

Dan Charnas- Dilla Time

Leonard Cohen- A Ballet of Lepers

Lee Cole- Groundskeeping

Teju Cole- Black Paper

Ray Connolly- Being Elvis: A Lonely Life

Brian Contoir- Practical Alchemy

Antoine Cosse- Metax

Charles R. Cross- Here We Are Now: The Lasting Impact of Kurt Cobain

Daniele Cybulskie- How To Live Like a Monk

Travis Dandro- King of King Court

John Darnelle- Devil House

Michael Deforge- Heaven No Hell

Rita Dove- Playlist for the Apocalypse

David Duchovny- The Reservoir

Jennifer Egan- The Candy House

Robert Evans- The Kid Stays in The Picture

Scott Eyman- Cary Grant: A Brilliant Disguise

Nicolas Ferraro- Cruz

Mark Fisher- Ghosts of My Life

Mark Fisher- Capitalist Realism

Johnathan Franzen- Crossroads

Harry Freedman- Leonard Cohen: The Mystical Roots of Genius

Matti Friedman- Who By Fire: Leonard Cohen in the Sinai

James Gavin- George Michael: A Life

Lizzy Goodman- Meet Me in The Bathroom

Andrew Sean Greer- Less

Dave Grohl- The Storyteller: Tales of Life and Music

Joseph Hansen- Troublemaker

Joy Harjo- Poet Warrior

Robert Harris- The Ghost Writer

Noah Hawley- Anthem

Wil Haygood- Colorization: One Hundred Years of Black Film in a White World

Clinton Heylin- The Double Life of Bob Dylan

Andrew Holleran- The Kingdom of Sand

Michel Houellebecq- Serotonin

Sean Howe- Marvel Comics: The Untold Story

Dorthy B Hughes- In a Lonely Place

John Irving- The Fourth Hand

Walter Isaacson- Leonardo Da Vinci

Kazuo Ishiguro- Klara and The Sun

Junji Ito- No Longer Human

Robert Jones Jr- The Prophets

Saeed Jones- Alive at The End of the World

Stephen Graham Jones- My Heart is a Chainsaw

Rax King- Tacky

Stephen King- Billy Summers

Katie Kitamura- Intimacies

Chuck Klosterman- The Nineties

TJ Klune- Under The Whispering Door

Karl Ove Knausgaard- The Morning Star

Hideo Kojima- The Creative Dream

Milan Kundera- Slowness

Wally Lamb- I Know This Much is True

Yiyun Li- Dear Friend, from My Life I Write to You in Your Life

Thomas Ligotti- The Conspiracy Against The Human Race

Roger Lipsey- Make Peace Before the Sun Goes Down

Patricia Lockwood- No One is Talking About This

Ling Ma- Bliss Montage

Stuart B MacBride- Halfhead

Michael Mann & Meg Gardiner- Heat 2

Greil Marcus- Dead Elvis

Mike McCormack- Solar Bones

Jennette McCurdy- I’m Glad My Mom Died

Janelle Monae- The Memory Librarian

Ottessa Moshfegh- Lapvona

Leila Mottley- Nightcrawling

Alan Moore, Melinda Gebbie- Lost Girls

Grant Morrison- The Invisibles

Mannie Murphy- I Never Promised You a Rose Garden

Sequoia Nagamatsu- How High We Go in The Dark

Joyce Carol Oates- Blonde

Joyce Carol Oates- American Melancholy

John O’Connell- Bowie’s Bookshelf

Ryan O’Connell- Just By Looking at Him

Jenny Offill- Weather

Paul Ortiz- An African American and Latinx History of The United States

Hiroko Oyamada- The Factory

Hiroko Oyamada- The Hole

Helen Oyeymi- What is Not Yours is Not Yours

James Patterson- Hear No Evil

Larissa Pham- Pop Song

Brian Phillips- Impossible Owls

Stephanie Phillips- Why Solange Matters

Keith Phipps- Age of Cage

Michael Pollan- This Is Your Mind on Plants

Richard Powers- Bewilderment

Questlove- Music is History

Kristen Radtke- Seek You

Sue Rainsford- Follow Me to Ground

Claudia Rankine- Just Us: An American Conversation

George A Romero, Daniel Kraus- The Living Dead

Karen Russell- Orange World

George Saunders- A Swim in a Pond in The Rain

George Saunders- Liberation Day

Samantha Schweblin— Fever Dream

Leonardo Sciascia- Equal Danger

Mark Seal- Leave The Gun, Take The Cannoli

Seth- Clyde Fans

Alan Sepinwall- Breaking Bad 101

Zadie Smith- Feel Free

Won-Pyung Sohn- Almond

Bob Spitz- Led Zeppelin: The Biography

Elizabeth Strout- Oh William!

J Randy Taraborrelli- The Secret Life of Marilyn Monroe

Herve Le Tellier- The Anomaly

Manjit Thapp- Feelings

Olga Tokarczuk- The Books of Jacob

Jia Tolentino- Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self Delusion

Leo Trezenick- The Confession of a Mad Man

Stanley Tucci- Taste

Una- Becoming Unbecoming

Ocean Vuong- Time is a Mother

Chris Ware- Rusty Brown

WC Ware- Jimmy Corrigan

John Waters- Liarmouth

Peter Weiss- The Shadow of The Coachman’s Body

Missouri Williams- The Doloriad

Antoine Wilson- Mouth to Mouth

Sarah Winman- Still Life

Laurie Wollever- Bourdain: The Definitive Oral Biography

Kenneth Womack- Solid State: The Story of Abbey Road and The End of The Beatles

Hanya Yanagihara- To Paradise

Ed. Jelani Cobb & David Remnick- The Matter of Black Lives

Ed. Sinead Gleeson & Kim Gordon- This Woman’s Work: Essays on Music

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 15

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Another Monday of Stepping into Saints, another day closer to graduation. Y/N steals Clint’s hat, flipping it around, setting it on her head. Big patches ripped out of her jeans, hug her hips, her white T-shirt, tied up, exposing skin and reads Same Shit, Different Day, in blue. She winks at him, catching him checking her out.

Throwing his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into him, making her laugh. Like typical fashion, the crowd’s part, allowing them to move down the hall.

Peter is whispering only God could know what in Gwen’s ear, but she laughs, smacking her hand into his chest, making him laugh. Howie has Becca pulled in close to him, back on track and where his ass is supposed to be. Bobbi’s hand is laced with Clint’s, her first day in Saint’s now that their promise has been approved by Y/N and the table.

As the crowd parts, Steve catches his eye, glancing at those watching them. TC is scoping the other student’s paying close attention or lingering too long. TC’s eyes slip to Y/N before cutting up to him, he nods. Knowing what he was doing, what Steve was doing. Steve tips his chin, pulling TC and his attention to what he’s looking at.

Ben Rielly, leaning against a set of lockers, watching them. Only he’s whispering to the girl next to him. Jet black hair, in a ponytail, her Cheer Team, T-shirt, cropped just above where her jeans start. She’s glaring at their group as well.

“Since when does Sophia hang with Reilly?” Y/N asks.

“Boss,” TC steps in closer “her father is Daniel.” He explains to her. Her head tips thinking this over. “The man at the table that made a comment about you being a woman.”

A grin spreads over her lips. “Oh, this gets better and better.” She whips around, grinning at the girls. Becca slips away from Howie, hurrying to Y/N’s side. Wanda is eager to join, leaving Sam behind, looking confused. Bobbi looks from Clint to Y/N, before she grins leaving Clint behind.

“One wicked ass grin and she steals all your girls.” Steve laughs.

“Hey!” Peter looks over.

“Oh, if my ass wasn’t pregnant, I would have beat Becca there.” Gwen laughs.

Peter’s head hangs, knowing it’s true.

“That’s right, no throwing down for you child bride.” Y/N nods, leaning back against him.

“Wait till your ass is knocked up, Sweets.” Steve laughs.Y/N falls silent.

Clint looks nervous.

TC’s brow jumps up.

Peter and Howie exchange a look.

“That’s going to be a rough nine months.” Sam laughs loudly.

She tips her head back, looking up at him. “No kids.” Making him laugh.

“I’ll beat up someone for you.” Becca shrugs.

“Oh.” Y/N perks up.

“Umm.” Howie’s brow drops down.

“Hey!” Gwen squeaks at her.

The girls laugh.

“Big man,” Y/N turns her attention to Steve

“Sugar,” he smirks at her.

“Push up on Sophia. See what she knows.”

“Oh, I can do that.” He grins, leaving the group.

“Packman,” he can hear the grin in her voice “TC.”

They both smirk at her.

“Wail on Reilly?” Clint lifts a brow.

“Make sure he’s being a good boy, would you?” She asks sweetly.

“Hell yes.” TC grins, backing up, Clint chuckles slipping away.

Sam looks around confused. “What did I just watch happen?” He laughs softly.

“Running with the head of the table and Saints own personal terror.” Wanda laughs.

Sam shakes his head. “God damn Y/N, I didn’t realize you got it like that.” He smirks.

“Of course I do, Sammi.” She laughs.

“Cause if she doesn’t, people get beat up.” Peter laughs.

“Shut up.” Y/N shoves her brother away, making him laugh harder.

“Oh no I believe that.” Sam nods.

“I will beat your ass again.” She points a finger at Sam.

“Oh alright.” Bucky presses her hand down. “Time for class, Chaos.”

He laughs, nudging her towards the girls. “Good luck with her today.”

They all laugh before splitting up and going other ways.

Walking out the main doors of Saints at the end of the day. Peter pauses, putting himself in front of Gwen. Howie’s steps faultier, pulling Becca back to him, their eyes on something off to the side. Buck steps down, level behind them, seeing what they see.

Eddie is leaning against the hood of his own car. Arms folded over his chest, watching them, watch him. His head snaps over as the doors open, TC ushering Y/N out, taking one look at him, TC cups her elbow, holding her back.

“What?” She looks from her right hand to him.

“Eddie’s here.” He warns her.

She looks from her brothers to him. Scoffing loudly, Steve, Clint and Bobbi appearing behind her. Rolling her eyes, she shakes off TC’s hand, coming down the steps of Saints. Pulling her sunglasses from her bag, slung over her shoulder.

Slipping them on, she looks over to where Eddie is watching them. A wicked grin on her lips, as she starts down the sidewalk, towards her car. She lifts both hands, flipping her middle fingers to Eddie. She turns when her back would go to him, still holding them up for him to see.

“Did she just flash her dick better than you boys?” Bobbi grins, coming down the steps, looking at them. “Maybe I picked the wrong Saint.” She shrugs. Becca laughs loudly, Gwen smirks as she passes her husband.

“Did she just tell me she should have picked Chaos?” Clint looks around confused.

“She’s a great choice.” He shrugs, looking at his friend.

“She basically called you pussies, and you let it happen.” TC looks at them with raised brows.

Steve’s brow drops down. “We’re not.” He looks around them, “Are we?” They look to the girls in one car, pulling away, Y/N’s middle finger out the window for Eddie to see.

“We might have gotten soft.” Peter drops his hands to his hips, looking around their group.

“If we didn’t have the girls, a baby on the way, wives, how would we handle this?” Howie folds his arms over his chest.

“Before?” Buck smirks. “Knock him the fuck out for so much as looking at her.” He shrugs, walking away.

“Factor rest boys!” Clint laughs, hurrying after him.

Moving towards Eddie, still leaning against his car.

“Saintz property, east side trash isn’t welcome.” He warns, pointing a finger still coming at Eddie.

He shrugs looking around. “What did you think you were going to do about it?” Eddie chuckles.

Howie plants his feet, pulling back. The hit throws Eddie’s body back, into the hood of his car, stumbling to get his feet under him. He attempts to push himself up, only to meet Buck’s fist next, slamming his head down into the hood.

“You come back again, and you better bring some back up. We’ll relive the night in the parking lot again, you know when you tucked tail and ran back home after getting knocked the fuck out.” Clint laughs, shrugging his shoulders. His poster filled with cockiness. Eddie’s mouth drips blood, splattering on his hood.

“Hell next time we’ll let our girl curb stomp you too.” Steve chuckles. His eyes cut to them, glaring. Holding himself up with one hand planted on the hood of the car.

“Then you can say you got your ass beat by the whole Brady Bunch.” Peter mocks with a smug smirk.

“Next time we see you, I’ll break your jaw, if you’re so much as looking at my wife, or sister.” Bucky pats Eddie on the shoulder, still leaning over his hood, wiping blood from his mouth. They leave him there, heading for their own vehicles, to follow their girls.

---------- Everything Peaches 9/21/2024 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @babizza @coley0823 @destiel-artemis @royal-sunflower @camelliasblossom @shinycupcakebaker @purpleeclipseeggsland @daughterofthenight117 @hisredheadedgoddess28

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @jbbarnesgirl @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love @otterlycanadian

[amortentiaparker]

peach lip balm ❊ p. parker

peter has always hated anything and everything about peaches, what happened?

pairing: peter parker x fem!stark!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: mentions of making out, choking (not in the way u think hmm), you'll get whiplash from the switching of y/n and peter's pov

A/N: just a short little something i came up with i hope y'all will like it <3 also not me projecting into this bc i use peach lip balm

my masterlist

Usually, the sight of your best friend greeting you with a mischievous wiggle of their eyebrows would bring one's self a sense of excitement. The promise of an incoming conversation sharing non-sense with the people closest to you. Peter felt the opposite when he saw Ned from across the cafeteria.

He knows that the wiggle in his best friend's eyebrows meant that Ned wasn't there to laugh with him, but to laugh at him. To congratulate and tease him for obviously leaving the class early to have a secret rendezvous with you.

But despite the dread whirring in his gut, Peter knew that not a single negative feeling in the world could topple how elated he felt. It is a normal reaction to having just made out with his girlfriend.

The thought of your soft, delicate hands clinging onto him ran a shiver down his spine. So did the taste of you that lingered on his now glossy lips.

You were still in the empty handicapped bathroom stall, trying to smooth out your wrinkled blouse and skirt. You let Peter go to lunch first because even though you weren't opposed to walking in together, you're still Y/N Stark and it would be controversial for you to go out in public with smudged lipstick.

After making sure you looked presentable, you took a second to slump your back against the wall and take a moment to live in post make-out bliss. You were pretty sure your hair was messed up to the point that any hairstyle wouldn't be able to salvage the frizz, but it didn't bother you knowing that your boyfriend had a perfectly good reason to run his hands through them.

You closed your eyes and the memory of Peter's hands on your waist, thighs, and well.. everywhere burned your eyelids. You opened your eyes once more, knowing that if you continue to recall his warm breaths over your throat or the groans Peter let out as you kissed on the sweet spot just right below his ear—

Save it for later or else you'll be knee-deep in trouble.

Betty and MJ spotted you immediately in the hallway outside the bathroom. You only hoped they wouldn't notice your flustered appearance.

"You're glowing," Betty pointed out with a genuine smile.

"Post-coital haze," MJ said with a single shrug of her shoulders.

"MJ!"

Peter and Ned saw the three of you as soon as you entered the cafeteria. They were currently sitting at a table near the back but that didn't stop them from waving their hands around as an invitation for you to join them.

"Like puppies," You whispered under your breath, causing Betty to giggle and agree with you.

Peter didn't waste a second. As soon as you arrived, he tugged at your wrist to pull you to sit down next to him. He usually saved his clinginess for private moments, but the series of mind-blowing kisses you two had just shared repeated in his head like a catchy song. You currently applying the familiar colored lip balm did not help his case.

"Wanna get some food?" You asked. You chuckled as Peter nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, his soft brown hair tickling you.

"No, wanna stay here," He mumbled, words almost incoherent as he pressed a kiss, softer compared to the heated ones from earlier. "You can ask for some of Betty's."

Betty had been doing this thing of bringing her own food to school in order to save money and so that she gets the liberty to choose healthier options. You didn't blame her, for a science school with research to back up how bad junk food is to the body, it still continued to serve it.

"I'm not doing that, she loves her fruits." You said, gently pushing Peter away so that you could stand up.

"Well, more for me then," MJ piped in. You turned to see her already holding a fork in her hand.

"Have you been eavesdropping all this time?" Peter asked.

"You say that as if you aren't sitting in front of me," MJ retorted, reaching for a fruit on Betty's tupperware. Peter eyed her movements carefully, "Oh, grow up, Spidey. These are good and I don't get why you hate them so much."

You stifled a laugh as MJ brought the fruit to her mouth, obviously taunting Peter's hatred and tendency to gag at the taste and scent of peaches.

Peter confided in you before, telling that despite its slimy texture, he managed to choke on one as a child, thus leading to his lifelong protest against the existence of the fruit. He also had an affinity to slightly gag at the sight of it too, which led you to request to your Dad to remove peaches from the Avengers compound grocery list. Sam wasn't too happy about that.

And even though Peter should've focused on what MJ called him, the need to prove himself got the better of him.

"Actually, I have actually acquired quite a taste for peaches," Peter said matter-of-factly, starting to stand up next to you.

You looked at your boyfriend in surprise. He never mentioned anything of the sort and you were sure he would say something about overcoming this thing in his life. Was it momentous news that would change the course of reality? Well, with your dramatic boyfriend it probably could, but that's beside the point. Everyone else also looked just as confused as you.

"How'd that happen?" Ned asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

For all the years he'd known Peter, the hate towards the certain fruit was just a thing in their friendship. Their bond was too strong, to the point with Ned also developing a habit to refuse anything peach-related. And with how close-knit your friend group is, everyone was aware of this fact.

"Y/N happened."

Was all you heard before you were engulfed into a kiss, nothing filling your senses but Peter, Peter, Peter. You sighed in between kisses, and even mustered the courage to bring your hands to his soft chocolate hair to pull him closer.

It didn't matter if you were locking lips in the middle of a crowded space, especially not with the love of your life softly trailing his tongue over your bottom lip; the weight of your peach flavored lip balm sitting forgotten in your pocket.

tag list (also tagging people who i hope will like!) @woahmrstark @elios-timotea @decadentwastelandtrash @thevery-firstpage @xetherealbeautyx @love-you-to-saturn @givebuckyhisplumsnow @imawhoreforu @ysywyw626 @spideyspeaches @bakugouswh0r3 @lauramacch @moonykiss @616films @vendettaparker @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @alinastarkrovs @daiiybuugle

[privateanxieties]

The Zombie Apocalypse ft. Peter Parker (Part 2)

Summary: It’s been weeks of living in the post apocalypse, and life at the Parker house might just be the way to get through this, until it isn’t. All it takes, it seems, is a moment of weakness - or, as it were, strength. May Parker is stronger than the best of them.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (she/her pronouns); established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst.

Warnings/Spoilers: high-tension situations, zombies? Some violence, but nothing too graphic. The topic of having children is brought up.

Words: 5.6K

----------------------------

Five weeks into the zombie apocalypse, there was good news and bad news.

The good news was that zombies had a limited shelf life, with reports of many of them having started to die off circulating among the remaining population.

The bad news was that the remaining population had decreased by at least half.

A lot of people were either dead for good, or… for all intents and purposes.

Anyone who hadn't yet turned appeared to have a natural immunity against the airborne virus, but they could still meet their end between clanking teeth.

Those still alive had seen horrors untold, and for most, going forward in life would be done in the same way they used to do it in the Dark Ages. No mercy, no hesitation, and no crying over what was lost until rebuilding started.

May Parker was not most people.

---------------------------

It was, funnily enough, the beginning of May. You'd have thought no one noticed the blooming trees or the serene skies, but at the end of the world, one had to find glimmers of hope wherever they chose to manifest.

The most beautiful peach tree sat just outside Peter Parker's bedroom window, so close that its branches kissed the side of his childhood house. A longing gaze fell upon it from the woman occupying the room, hands working of their own accord on the surface of a small wooden desk. She hadn't drawn in so long.

Even before the collapse of society, hobbies hadn't ranked particularly high on her list of priorities. There was a life to live, but one had to survive first, and thus a living had to be earned. The end times weren't very different, except now she had time she hadn't seen since she was a child. There was a bitterness in the realization that an apocalypse allowed for more leisure than capitalism ever had, but then again, she was lucky. She had a good support system.

Half of it was missing at the moment, and maybe drawing was less of a pleasant pastime than she made it out to be. Maybe it was needed in order to keep her nerves steady while Peter was out for a supply run.

They were few and far between, but all were the same kind of high-tension events. The stress of waiting for him to return was harrowing, but knowing there'd be nothing she could do if he didn't was the real psychological strain. The city was a minefield, and the first time he'd gone, he returned with a look she'd never be able to forget. That was at the very beginning, which already felt like a lifetime ago. They were all becoming more resilient in their own ways, all assigned their responsibilities and tools, and all with a solid structure to their days. Supply run days were the exception, as neither of them could think properly with Peter out there.

May was a trooper, all things considered. Resourcefulness could have been her middle name, for all that she'd managed to accomplish since the beginning of the end. The knowledge she possessed thanks to her nurse training was not even the most valuable - no, it appeared her fifty years of experience as a homemaker were far more necessary, and she was sure that without May, she and Peter would have either starved long ago, or would have had to leave for food every other day. May's special skill was making something out of nothing, materializing items out of thin air whenever the occasion called for it.

She was grateful for the older woman's presence, and even more grateful that Peter had her near, because she could see the sedative effect May had on him. And although she knew her own family was safe in another state, having had time to prepare for the apocalypse with ample warning, it was taxing to be away from them when there was no telling how long it'd be before they saw each other again.

She was surprised with how often she sought out May's company, not only for her kindness, but for the comfort of having a female figure in her life during extenuating circumstances. Peter was her everything, but Peter was also her partner, and she felt she had a responsibility to be strong for him, just like he was strong for her. It was an unfair exchange, she thought, given how much he was doing and how his abilities tore at him. He couldn't sit still and hide away, knowing there were people who could use his help, but he also couldn't sleep at night.

The thought of anything happening to either May or her took its toll, with many nights spent practically over top of him, much like a weighted blanket, at his request. He could sleep better knowing she was right there, her weight infusing his subconscious with calm. She guessed it had something to do with his powers, a pretty good clue being that she always awoke stuck to him, unable to move until he came to. They truly were learning much about each other these days.

For example, she was learning that Peter could find things to be embarrassed about even during the apocalypse. Since his childhood bedroom remained essentially untouched during the years he spent away from it, there was an abundance of… interesting paraphernalia lying around. She'd been cleaning out the space between his bed and the wall to make room for some weapons to keep nearby, when she came across a tattered little magazine holding all sorts of things. It wasn't Playboy. No, Peter's sensibilities were of artistic inclination. The shots were very tasteful, as she made her impression known to him with mirth.

It didn't stop him webbing the magazine right out of her hand with a furious blush. She'd never seen him blush. It was adorable.

However, the thought of him… perusing the pages with intent was less adorable, and that night the weirdness between them reached a peak when they realized that they were both thinking the same thing. It turned out that one could still be irrevocably horny during the apocalypse, perhaps even more so than usual. Life or death being the general modus operandi, you get a little anxious with the passing days. You also lose some of your inhibitions, which wasn't really in their favor when they needed to be mindful of another person in the house. May was very gracious not to say anything about their activities, because it was unquestionable that she'd heard them. Multiple times. And in any other world, she would have been mortified, even unable to meet the woman's eyes.

At this moment, though, she kind of missed her. With Peter not supposed to arrive for another hour, she figured she could go see what May was up to.

Satisfied enough with the progress on her sketch, she left the papers where they were, thinking she could come back to them later if she convinced Peter to keep the window uncovered for a little longer. He usually conceded, but only when he was around. He understood that it was hard to not leave the house for so long, because even if he dreaded the things he saw on supply runs, he was grateful for the outings nevertheless.

Stretching her most tense muscles, she placed the mechanical pencil behind her ear and returned the web shooters to their now familiar place around her wrists. They were old ones that Peter had refurbished into something a little easier to use and more sensitive to pressure. Peter's own web shooters were a lot tougher to press, having been built to account for super strength. He's pressed them accidentally one too many times.

These old ones were his first pair, having been sewn together awkwardly by a seventeen year old, the dark brown leather sourced from his father's briefcase - one of the only things of his that Peter had left. Their significance made her look after them with care, feeling emotional whenever she truly pondered their newfound home around her wrists.

With a final stretch and a look towards the window, she left the room to search for May, not surprised at her presence in the living room, where she'd been spending the past few days sorting through old boxes to keep busy.

"Hey May", she greeted.

The brown haired woman looked up from the clothes she was folding on the couch, a smile lighting up her face. She motioned to the spot next to the clothes in invitation, greeting her in return. Taking a seat with the pile between them, she noticed what sort of garments they were.

"Baby clothes?"

May nodded.

"Peter's?", she asked again, brows raised. She thought Peter had been left in the Parkers' care when he was about eight. May noticed her confusion.

"Oh, his parents got them, of course. No, these just… well, you know. Mary kept all of them and I just couldn't let them go when Ben sold their house.", she explained, reaching into the box in front of her and holding up a beige onesie with a matching cap, red dots all over it. Handing it over, she recalled the details of the outfit.

"He wouldn't wear anything else for weeks. I got this one for his first birthday. I thought it was the most fashionable one at the store - Ben said it looked like a mushroom to him."

Leaving a pregnant pause, her eyes ran over the garment with adoration.

"He was right."

The women shared a light-hearted chuckle before moving on to the next piece, one that left no doubt as to its purpose.

"No", she gasped, jaw hanging open in delight.

"Yes! He was a little platypus for Halloween! He was crawling everywhere by then, and it was his favorite animal. His father, bless him - he had this tail attached to the back that moved, and I don't know how he built that thing, but I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. Just all around the Christmas tree, squeaking as he went.", May said.

Laughing along , she almost made a joke about how Peter still crawled everywhere, just maybe with less squeaking. Still, she held back, because although May had warmed up to the idea of Spider-Man, she was not fully on board, at least not with her entire heart. She was proud of him, but worried all the same. Even though they shared in that worry now, the young woman was much more used to it, because she knew what Peter had gone through as Spider-Man and what he could withstand. May had comparatively known for a much shorter time, and needed to get accustomed to it at her own pace.

They continued along in higher spirits than they would have on their own, until May got a look on her face that spelled trouble.

"What is it?", she asked the older woman, overplaying the apprehension in her voice.

"Oh, honey, I don't - You know me, I don't stick my nose in other people's business, but I'm just so… emotional, I guess. And I can't help thinking about when all this will be over… I just don't know what to do with these clothes."

It didn't take long at all to work out what May was alluding to, and to her great surprise, she wasn't put off by the indirect personal question. It could have been because she and Peter had discussed kids before, so it wasn't too big a step to relay to May some of what they were thinking. Still, she wasn't sure how to phrase an answer to a question that hadn't been asked, so she resorted to unguarded honesty.

"We want kids. I mean, I guess you knew that Peter does, because he told me he's always wanted to be a dad.", she said, pausing to watch May nod in confirmation.

"Yeah. I want them too, and we've talked about it a few times. Obviously, not… lately, though. I don't know what this means for us. I don't know how safe the world will be in a few years, but… safe enough, I hope.", she added quietly, a small smile blooming when May took her hand in hers.

"I'm so happy he has you.", was all May said, the emotion in her voice conveying the rest.

When the moment passed, May proposed that they look through some old photo albums, unable to believe that she had yet to show her photos of baby Peter. However, with the albums upstairs in the attic, she offered to go get them instead while May offered to make them both coffee.

With the location of the albums indicated with surgical precision, the young woman made her way upstairs. May continued on to the kitchen, where she plugged in Peter's makeshift induction plate into some kind of contraption he also invented to power it up. Since the power and gas had been cut weeks ago, her boy kept coming up with all sorts of interesting solutions to practical problems around the house, and it instilled more confidence in May that he'd be alright. It wasn't easy, living with this anxiety, but she was glad her nephew had a good partner to keep him grounded and centered in this new world.

With the plate heating up, she recalled how Peter introduced it as a way to maintain some sort of normalcy, but one look at him had her figuring out the real reason behind it.

May didn't even care much for things like tea or coffee, and she could go without warm food for longer than a week.

No, May knew that Peter had been thinking of his love, who was all about little rituals to bring people together. Sharing a hot drink or having a conversation over food preparation were the ways the young woman kept sane, along with taking on the things others would have a hard time doing.

Even now, she was intent on May keeping her joints free of pressure by climbing the attic ladder herself, and the woman was truly glad Peter had found her.

Her mind swimming in sentimentality, May initially thought the noise she heard was from the water starting to boil. However, moments later, she heard it again, and this time it was not something she could mistake for an inside source.

Cautiously, May approached the kitchen window, looking through the small opening in the webbing on the left side. At first, there wasn't anything she could see, so she moved to the other window and its own tiny opening, heart beating faster. Even if she had not yet seen, she couldn't mistake those cries for anything else.

She knew that boy. Even from several houses away, May could recognize her best neighbors, and the Stevensons were among her favorites. A kind couple with the sweetest boy in the world, who always greeted her politely and helped her shovel the snow from the front of the house.

That was Tommy Stevenson out there, crying and screaming something awful, and May couldn't have done anything other than what she did next.

-------------------------------------

The attic was dusty, no question about it, and moving about without disturbing anything was easier said than done. She didn't want to navigate up there without a light source, and since there was no electricity, her phone would have to do. These days, the flashlight on it was the only useful feature, and one of the only reasons she kept it charged. The other reason was pure nostalgia. Even if she hated her phone back when it was indispensable, she couldn't deny a bit of aching for whatever made her feel like nothing had changed.

She'd never been so grateful for Peter's intellect and his knack for inventing. She didn't think she'd have ever managed to hold it together as well as she did without him and his relentless optimism.

Careful not to step on any floorboards that looked unsafe, she quickly spotted the set of crates that May had indicated, as they were the only items left uncovered by tarp.

Of the three crates, she picked the smallest one as indicated, noticing it was also the only one not sealed with nails. Resting the lid atop another box, she immediately realized it was the wrong one. Nearly overflowing with CDs, comics and everything in between, the box presented an irresistible temptation, because she knew they must all have been Peter's. On the one hand, she didn't want to be invasive, and if she asked she was sure Peter would tell her about the things he used to like, but on the other, she had none of her own things here.

Weeks ago, on his first run out in the city, Peter had asked her what she wanted from her apartment, and she didn't have it in her to name anything other than clothes, distraught as she was by horrific news. Peter brought her clothes, laptop, and a lipstick tube he found on her vanity that made her tear up and kiss him silly.

Maybe they could look through those together when he got back, and from what she could already spot lying at the top of the pile, their teenage era tastes were not that disconnected. Once the lid was placed back, she wondered which of the other two boxes was supposed to be the correct one, because both of them needed prying open with a crowbar. May forgot to mention that part.

"Hey May?", she called out, hoping the older woman would hear.

When there was no response, she tried again, walking back to the opening through which she'd come.

"May? The photos aren't where you said they are."

Realizing she would have to go back down to get an answer, she pocketed her phone and mounted the ladder, quickly descending and making her way to the kitchen.

Whatever her face morphed into when she saw the front door wide open, it must've been a sight to see.

Her first instinct was to shut it, as soon as her brain started working. But she knew. She knew that May was not in the house, and she knew that the door was not kicked in. She would have heard something like that.

The closest weapon was the baseball bat in the corner of the living room, leaning up against the wall where it hadn't been touched in a while. It was the first thing she grabbed before stepping outside.

Nerves already stretched to the max without having even left the porch, the silence of the street was the worst thing she could've encountered.

She hadn't been outside since the very first day Peter brought them there, but what little of the street she could see still looked different to her. Maybe it was just that she was expecting danger to come barreling towards her just like that first day, or maybe she was already thinking of the worst scenarios, but the facts remained the same.

There was no sign of May anywhere around the house, so she would have to stray further to look.

She had to. She'd never forgive herself if she didn't. Peter was still not meant to get back for a long enough period of time to make her unable to sit still. Anything could happen in that time, and she wasn't about to look him in the eye and tell him she didn't know where his aunt was.

Where the hell could she have gone? How did things escalate to monumentally fucked in just ten minutes?

Leaving the door open was just as risky of a move as closing it, because having to make a run back only to find it shut and waste precious seconds opening it could be the difference between life and death.

At the same time, going back inside towards what you think is safety but is just an ambush would also be unpleasant.

She chose to leave it in between, remembering what Peter told her about so-called 'smart ones'. There was nothing more terrifying than a zombie with the ability to reason, even briefly or superficially.

She wanted to call out, but it would've been a horrible decision - second only to leaving the house without telling anyone. She was really struggling to keep it together and move along.

The last step off the porch was the strangest she had ever taken, and feeling the concrete beneath was even stranger. Her knees almost tickled through her jeans, involuntarily recalling the feeling of getting into a fight with the pavement and losing.

The silence was getting more deafening by the second, and looking around only enhanced her paranoia and tightened the grip she had on the bat. It was brand new - in the sense that it had never been used since it'd been given as a gift to Peter by Ben, over nineteen years ago. He'd been too scared to play baseball.

She was too scared to breathe properly.

With every moment that May didn't make herself visible, she was feeling the dread building up in her chest.

And then, a scream, muffled and heart-stopping.

But not May's.

She was sure it wasn't hers, and she was also sure it had come from several houses over to the left of their own.

There was no choice, not in the grand scheme of things. With adrenaline circulating unimpeded and the ultimate prerogative of finding May, it didn't even occur to her to not go in the direction of the sound.

But at least she wasn't stupid. She took the unconventional route, just in case the child who was now fully screaming could've been a trap. People have done lots of messed up things for resources since everything started happening.

Down the middle of the street was the worst place to be, so she went next to the fences of the gardens across, sacrificing some speed to be able to duck low. It proved a good decision, for horrifying reasons she soon came to learn.

She knew. She knew that going towards a source of sound, especially one calling out in a very obviously human way, was a bad idea. But at least she found May.

Eight houses away from where she'd started, behind the fence she was peeking through, May was huddled together with a little boy screaming his lungs out, inside a car that was parked in front of the garage.

The other horrific sound was the zombie trying to tear through metal to get at them.

Mind freezing temporarily, she pinched her own thigh hard to help herself focus.

At least there was only one, but time was not a friend in these circumstances. More would come. More would come.

She was chanting Peter's name in her head to calm down, hoping to borrow some of his herculean strength for what she was about to do.

Easily distractible. Less coordinated than the average person. Not subtle.

Those were some characteristics of zombies that she'd learned from Peter. A plan was devised in less than a minute, but she'd only know if it was good when executed. Hopefully it wouldn't end with her execution.

Now fully crouching by the fence in a spot covered by greenery, she made her way closer to the open gate, a classic white picket. Passing the bat to her left hand, she stretched out her arm, finding her placement the way Peter taught her.

Aim just slightly off where you normally would.

Web shooter ready, she took a short breath to steady herself and pressed the mechanism, a web flying off with still shocking speed, attaching itself to the very last wooden plank in the gate.

She'd have to do everything perfectly, or it would backfire miserably.

Pulling forward hard, the gate slammed into place, rattling the entire fence and successfully attracting the attention of the zombie. To get him to move towards it, she used the web still attached to open the gate slowly, and he took off running in a second that stretched eternally.

She released the web with a double tap, gripping the bat with both hands again and pleading with herself to not fuck this up.

One, two, three ragged steps more was the best timing she could estimate, getting up from her hunched over position and planting her legs firmly, bat pulled back.

She swung with everything she had, and maybe even a little harder than she should have, because although the zombie was struck, she momentarily lost her balance.

Still, she recovered faster than he did, able to swing again.

And again, and again, and again, until the pavement was colored black with brains.

These things were nearly tar on the inside.

Shaking in place and almost unable to refocus, the thing that brought her back to semi-awareness was May's call of utter … something. She wasn't sure what the emotion in her voice was.

"Oh! Oh, sweetheart! Honey, oh my God… oh, thank God!"

The hug she subsequently received was even better for her shot nerves, and little by little, she managed to come back to herself and look May over, and only when she was sure the woman was fine did she finally set her gaze on the boy hiding behind her.

He couldn't have been older than nine, maybe even younger.

They both looked like they awoke from a nightmare, tears in their eyes and a disheveled appearance from thrashing about in the car. It knocked the wind out of her and put a fierce protectiveness in its place, at once tethering her mind to the present and sharpening her senses.

"May, we need to get back. Right now. Let's go!", she said harshly, grasping May's wrist and reorienting herself towards their house, but the moment she stepped forward, she felt resistance, followed by a determined 'no!'. It didn't come from May.

Incredulous, she turned back, seeing the boy hold on to the woman's midsection fiercely. Desperately. She didn't understand, but May was already explaining.

"Honey I tried, I tried! But Tommy wouldn't go with me. He says his parents are still inside the house and he doesn't want to go anywhere without them! And then that - that thing - it saw us in the street. I didn't know where to go, and then we got trapped and…", she said desperately, a hand coming up to wipe at her face.

The new information was not able to change her mind about the urgency at hand.

"May, listen to me. We are out in the open right now. We're in danger. You made a lot of noise. I made a lot of noise killing it. More will be here soon, we have to move!", she exclaimed, struggling to keep the volume down while feeling like she was sitting on a bomb.

"I can't leave him here!", May retorted, just as desperate.

It was her grief-stricken face that telegraphed precisely what was going on in May's head and heart.

She knew exactly what she was thinking.

Closing her eyes for a long second, the young woman worked out the things that needed to happen and in what order. Determination was the only thing she clinged to, because any other emotion would have tripped her up. She needed to get them to safety. Now.

Grasping May's left upper arm, she looked directly into the woman's eyes and spoke with a tone she'd never heard herself use.

"I'll get him. You get inside. Please, May, just get inside."

It was too late.

Zombies are not subtle. You can hear them coming before they're near you, but it isn't much of an advantage if the things can still run.

The ones coming at them from down the street certainly could.

The one good thing was that they were coming from the opposite direction. They'd have been screwed if they were approaching from the direction of the house they sought shelter in.

"Run! Run!", she called to both of them, pushing them forth.

May broke into as fast a run as she could muster, pulling the young boy along with her, and the fear of seeing how many of those things were coming at them must've made him forget his protests.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, all at various distances from them.

May was not fast enough.

It wasn't so much a decision as it was an instinct. She couldn't describe it any other way, because it was quite simple. There was no thinking involved when she slowed down, no thinking when she stopped and turned.

She tried to do some thinking when she aimed, and it resulted in two of the closest ones having their eyes webbed up, but it didn't so much stop them as made them angrier.

She wasn't good enough to aim for their fast moving legs, so she didn't even try. No sense wasting time on futile actions.

With two somewhat out of the game as they'd started veering off course, she looked back to see May and the boy had covered half the distance. Taking off running herself, she was caught off guard by a new one that came from between the houses on the right, much closer than the others. This one, she had to kill. She had to.

Stopping once more, she shot web after web as well as she could, enough to make it easier when it got close enough.

She made the swing by the skin of her teeth, or rather, by its teeth.

They lunged with their heads, most of them.

Having time for just one more swing to make sure it didn't get up after her, she took it, splattering more brains on the pavement and inching herself a little closer to a breakdown.

She could hear the snapping jaws mere feet away, indicating that she'd taken a bit too long. It was hard to accurately estimate how much time you had before being made into a zombie meal.

Running at her top speed, she just about caught a glimpse of the boy entering the house, with May soon to follow. With the snarls too close, she took one more chance out of pure fear that one of them would pounce and she'd go down without having a chance to defend herself before she got teeth stuck in her neck. It was better to face them up front with a bat than get thrown to the ground.

The proximity being what it was, shooting webs came much easier, and the aim was much better. Too bad she only had time to web another two of their faces, this time including their mouths, before she was forced to swing again.

A split second miscalculation.

There were three left with unobstructed vision, and she couldn't possibly take on the other two even if she hit the closest one. Her mistake caused enough fear to make her arms drop the bat completely and her legs to move faster than they ever had.

If they gave out like that day, that would be it for her.

It almost looked like the time-space continuum itself was dilating, stretching ad infinitum to make May's house unreachable. It was like running in a dream, when you can't actually move.

The road, the houses and the sky disappeared. There was nothing but the house, getting ever farther away.

Until it was there. Right there.

Right there, as she rounded the corner. Right there, as she climbed the front porch steps in one lunge. Right there, as she slammed the door closed behind her and aimed a web at it.

But she missed.

She missed, because her hands were shaking too much, and that was all it took.

No time. No time.

She was halfway up the stairs when they came barreling through, vicious and making the worst sounds she'd ever heard, because this was supposed to be a safe place. Terror felt inside your house was the worst kind.

With the last bit of strength she had left, she yelled at the top of her lungs for May to shut the door to the bedroom, and for better or worse, she listened, a horrific sound leaving her.

Peter. Peter's room. Their room.

Past the bathroom, past May's room. She hoped they came after her and forgot about May.

Throwing herself in and slamming the door shut just in time, she pushed her shoulder against it with all her might, twisting the lock on the knob with horribly trembling hands.

It was just like that day at the ice cream shop.

The banging. The demonic noises. The terror of being trapped.

One didn't manage to break through that day, but today there were three, and this was just a wooden door to a childhood bedroom, in a house much older than her.

And though she tried to web whatever she could of the hinges and lock, it wasn't them breaking through that ended things.

It was the mistake of leaning her head against the banging door for one moment, trying to put more force into her push, that cut out the light. She hit the ground with blurry vision and snarls in her ears, and for another moment, she wondered if she'd feel it when they tore into her.

- to be continued -

A/N: Part three coming tomorrow ( April 1st) or earlier. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you on a cliffhanger for long. As always, your thoughts are very precious and appreciated. Thank you for reading.

[waitimcomingtoo]

touch

chapter four: closure

Synopsis: you love him but you can never touch him

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Op. Timers up.”

You rolled off of Peter and reached for your phone to turn your alarm off, sighing sadly as you did.

“I hate that sound.” Peter groaned as he rolled onto his back. “That sound should be illegal.”

“Well if you feel that strongly about it, you can gather a group of strong willed individuals and start a petition.” You teased him as you sat up.

“Are you sure that was 20 minutes? That went by really fast.” He pouted as he rolled onto his side. He lazily played with your fingers as he looked up at you with puppy dog eyes. You sighed deeply, eyes filling with regret as you pulled your hand away.

“Pete.” You said apologetically. “It was 20 minutes. No more touching.”

Peter nodded in understanding and withdrew his hand, letting it rest on his chest instead.

“It’s not long enough.” He mumbled as he stared out the window. “No amount of time is long enough.”

“I know.” You agreed with him. “But it’s better than how we used to be. At least we get to touch now.”

“For less than half an hour a day.” He grumbled as he sat up, his mood entirely altered now.

“It’s for the best. You don’t even know what I’d do to you if I could touch you all day.” You smiled coyly, trying it bring him back to a good mood as you stood up on your knees and crawled towards him. Peter perked up with a curious gaze as he turned his body to face you.

“What would you do?” He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned towards you but didn’t make contact.

“I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You teased him before swiftly pulling away. Peter groaned and threw a pillow at you before his mood shifted.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” Peter said apologetically as his eyes softened. “This is so much better than what we were doing before. I would prefer if I had all the time in the world to touch you, but I’ll take my 20 minutes. I’m lucky I get even that.”

You bit your bottom lip and checked your phone, seeing that it was two minutes past your allotted 20 minutes.

“We still have a minute.” You lied, focusing all your self control on not hurting him as you leaned in to kiss him. Peter eagerly kissed you back, rising on his knees to hold you closer to him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m never going back to what we did before.”

“Me either.” You smiled fondly at him as you stroked his face with your thumbs. “Okay, times really up now. No more touching.”

Peter pouted and let go of you before flopping on the bed with a huff.

“No pouting either.” You teased him as you rubbed your aching temples.

“It would be a lot easier to stop touching you if you weren’t so pretty.” Peter chuckled as he watched you get dressed.

“Sorry about that. It’s all my fault.” You sighed dramatically as you pulled your shirt over your head.

“It is.” He nodded repeatedly. “It’s unbearable trying to resist kissing you every time you walk into a room.”

“I know the feeling.” You told him as you looked at him through the mirror on his dresser.

“Don’t look at me like that, peaches.” He warned. “The 20 minutes are up.”

“I know.” You smiled a little sadly. “I’m just looking.”

“I have to get to training.” Peter sighed as he checked his phone. “I’ll see you after, okay?”

“I’ll see you later, lover.” You blew him a kiss. He caught it, despite how corny it was, and held it against his heart.

“You make it so hard to leave.” He whined as he walked up to you, leaning his hands on either side of you but never touching you.

“Go. You don’t want to be late.” You reminded him playfully. “I’ll see you soon.”

“All right.” He jutted his bottom lip out. “Bye.”

As soon as Peter left the room, you ran to the connected bathroom and threw up in the toilet. You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush he had left there before sliding against the wall and putting your head in your hands. Your brain was pounding in your head, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. You rubbed your temples as hot tears of anguish rolled down your face, the pain worsening before going away.

~

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked once he noticed the pained look on your face in the living room.

“Nothing.” You shook your head as you sighed. “I just have a headache.”

“Again?” Bruce began to worry. “You’ve been complaining of one all week.”

“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s probably just a cold.” You lied as you adverted your eyes. Bruce didn’t buy into your lies and pressed a hand against your forehead. You immediately jumped back, fearful that you’d hurt him.

“Y/n, you’re burning up.” He really began to worry now.

“Careful, Br. Banner. It’s not safe for you to touch me.” You reminded him as you kept your distance.

“Could I run some labs?”

“Is that necessary?” You asked. “It’s just a headache.”

“You’ve only been using the stun gun once a week right? Like I told you?” He asked making you stop in your tracks.

“Yeah.” You lied. “Just once a week.”

“Alright, good.” He sighed in relief. “I made it with gamma radiation, you know. Too much of that will kill you.”

“Kill me how?” You wondered as your mouth went dry.

“Well, you were born with your powers.” He explained. “Your abilities are a part of your nervous system. Temporarily taking your powers away for 20 minutes holds up with nervous system. Too much radiation will slowly weaken you until you die.”

“Oh.” You nodded slowly. “I see.”

“But once a week is fine.” He assured you. “That shouldn’t do too much damage. It might give you a headache though. Would you mind if I ran some labs?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.” You said quietly as a panic set it. You used the stun gun 7 days a week and you we’re finally feeling the consequences.

“Let’s go.” Bruce escorted you to the lab.

An hour later, you left the lab with an anxious feeling in your tummy. You ran into Peter in the hallway and plastered a fake smile on so he wouldn’t worry.

“There you are.” Peter smiled as he approached you. “I burnt my hand on the oven again.”

“You did?” You worried as you tan to him. “Let me see.”

You took Peters hand in yours and squeezed it but didn’t feel his pain transfer to you.

“That’s weird.” You blinked in confusion. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Hm.” Peter fought a smile. “Weird.”

“You’re such a liar.” You playfully hit him when you realized his trick. “You didn’t burn your hand.”

“No. I just wanted to hold my girlfriends hand. I’m sorry.” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes, still holding your hand.

“I forgive you but don’t do it again. This isn’t a game, Peter. I could seriously hurt you.” You reminded him. You began to worry he was gonna make a habit out of tricking you to touch him. You were feeling horribly sick, and you were a fast healer. You had no idea what would happen to Peter if you accidentally transferred your pain to him.

“I know.” Peter smiled apologetically. “I think I have a paper cut, though.”

“Where?” You raised an eyebrow, not believing him.

“My lips.” He said sheepishly.

“Uh Uh.” You shook your head teasingly. “Not fooling me, Parker.”

“I thought that would work.” He whined. “Fuck me.”

“Aw, I so would but we already had our 20 minutes today.” You teased him, making his jaw drop.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.” He narrowed his eyes at you. Before you could respond, you heard your name called from behind you.

“Y/n.”

You turned around, your smile immediately fading when you saw Bruce standing there with a frown.

“I’ll catch up with you.” You told Peter before jogging over to Bruce.

“Hi Dr. Banner.” You smiled weakly. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry.” Bruce whispered, looking incredibly guilty as he held your lab results in his hands.

“What happened?” Your mouth went dry.

“There must be something wrong with the gun. I must’ve calibrated it to disperse more gamma radiation than I intended. Your whole body is full of it. There should not be this much. I don’t know how this happened.” He apologized as a sick feeling settled in your tummy.

“Dr. Banner, it’s okay.” You assured him. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I must’ve gotten the calculations wrong or left out a variable or-“

“I use it everyday.” You blurted, cutting him off. Bruce’s face twisted in confusion as he processed what you said.

“What?”

“The stun gun. I use it everyday so I can touch Peter.” Tears came to your eyes as your confession came out. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Y/n, your body needs at least a week to recover from a blast of gamma radiation.” Bruce told you. “That’s why I told you to only use it once a week. Your body can’t heal in just a day, even with your enhanced abilities. Every time you use the gun, you make yourself sicker. Your ability to heal quickly is the only thing keeping you alive right now.”

Your jaw locked in fear as the tears fell down your cheeks. You didn’t say anything as you sucked in a shark breath.

“Hey, it’s all right.” Bruce rubbed your shoulder. “My body is full of it too.”

“I’m so sorry. You told me it was dangerous and I did it anyway. I’m so stupid.” You whimpered as you wiped your face on the back of your hands.

“You’re not stupid. I’ve been here before.” Bruce sighed. “I pushed people away, even when I really loved them, because I was scared of hurting them. You’re not a monster for wanting to be loved.”

“Am I gonna die?” You whispered.

“I don’t know.” Bruce answered honestly. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Everyday for the last three months.”

“You should stop for at least 6 months then, and we’ll reassess then.” Bruce advised. You felt the air get knocked out of your chest when Bruce told you you wouldn’t be able to touch Peter again for 6 months.

“Dr. Banner, I can’t go back to how I was before.” You protested. “I can’t do that to Peter.”

“The only other option is poisoning yourself with the radiation until you die. I think Peter will understand.” Bruce told you.

“What about me?” You shrugged sadly. “What if I don’t understand?”

“Go talk to him.” Bruce advised. “Just have a calm, adult conversation.”

“Okay. Calm and adult.” You nodded. “I will.”

You immediately went to Peter’s room and knocked on his door, waiting to enter until he told you to.”

“Hey, peaches.” Peter smiled brightly as you shut the door behind you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Peter we have to break up.” You blurted out, making Peter sit up and go to the edge of his bed. So much for your calm and adult conversation.

“What?” Peter’s face fell at your words.

“I…I did something really bad.” You shook your hands as you began to panic. You paces around his room as the guilt and anxiety ate away at you.

“Peaches, it’s okay. Talk to me.” Peter reached out to touch you but quickly withdrew his hands when he remembered he couldn’t.

“I lied to you.” You confessed as tears came to your eyes.

“About what?” Peter asked slowly as you stopped pacing.

“Dr. Banner told me I could only use the stun gun once a week. I knew it was dangerous to use everyday but I did it anyway and it’s killing me.”

“Killing you?” Peter’s eyes darkened.

“The radiation. Dr. Banner said if I keep using it, it’ll kill me. I’m so sorry.” You began to cry, wishing more than anything that you could reach out and touch him.

“Then we just won’t use it anymore, peaches.” Peter said calmly. “Not if it’s killing you.”

“But we can’t use it for at least 6 months.” You cried. “You said so yourself, you hated the way we were before. You don’t want to go back. So I’m letting you go. I’m not gonna make you stay in this relationship if we can’t touch each other.”

“Peaches, I don’t love you because I get to touch you.” Peter chuckled softly. “And don’t get me wrong, I love getting to kiss you and hold you, but just being with you is my favorite part. I can go another 6 months without touching you if it means you’re still my girlfriend.”

“But…but you said you’d never go back.” You calmed down long enough to realize Peter wasn’t mad.

“I’d never go back to us being just friends. I can go back to us not touching if it keeps you safe. That’s all that matters to me.” Peter promised you.

“Really?” You asked hopefully.

“Really.” He nodded. “I love you in any way I can have you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled gratefully at him before pulling him into a kiss. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t think about the pain you were holding inside and kissed him deeply. Peter kissed you back for just a moment before you heard a small gasp emit from the back of his throat. You felt him slid off your lips and opened your eyes to see him collapsed on the floor.

“Peter?” You asked as you knelt down beside him. You rolled him over and let out a gasp when you saw how pale he was.

“Peter?!” You shook him aggressively. “Peter?!”

When Peter didn’t respond, you let out a guttural scream for help.

“Dr. Banner!”

Bruce rushed into the room when he heard your scream, stopping shortly when he saw Peter.

“What happened?” He asked as he knelt down beside you.

“No no no the radiation.” You cried as you shook Peter. “I just gave him the radiation.”

“Okay, calm down. Let me get him to the lab.” Bruce instructed as he grabbed Peters feet. You hooked your arms under Peter and helped Bruce carry him to the lab. You laid him on the table and stood anxiously as Bruce hooked Peter up to a monitor.

“You said the only thing keeping me alive was my healing abilities.” You worried as you chewed on your nails. “He doesn’t have that.”

“But he has something like it.” Bruce reminded you. “He’s still enhanced. He might not die from this.”

“Might?” You whispered at the little hope he was able to offer you. Bruce gave you an apologetic look as he continued to work on Peter. You felt useless as you stared at Peter’s lifeless body until you got an idea.

“Wait.” You spoke up. “Let me take his pain. I’ve done it before.”

Bruce was quiet for a minute as he stared at Peter’s monitor.

“He’s not in pain.” He said quietly.

“He has to be. He has to be if I was.” You reasoned.

“Y/n, Peter isn’t in any pain.” Bruce repeated. You realized he had stopped working on Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your tummy.

“Why?”

Bruce looked away from the monitor and took his glasses off for full dramatic effects.

“Because he’s dead.”

“What?” You shrieked as all the color left your face.

“I’m kidding. Was that a bad joke?” Bruce grimaced as you gasped for air. “You can take his pain. It’s just gonna hurt a lot.”

You gave him a frustrated look before placing your hands on either sides of Peter’s face.

“Come on, Peter.” You willed him. “Come on, Spiderman.”

It took a minute, but his pain slowly drew out of his body and into yours. Your veins darkened to a jet black as the radiation seeped back into your body, making you let out a scream.

“Y/n, be careful.” Bruce warned as Peter’s vitals began to improve.

“It’s killing me.” You screamed in agony as the color began to return to his cheeks.

“Because it’s three months worth of radiation at once. You’ve been building it up.” Bruce grimaced when he saw the toll it was taking on you.

“It hurts so bad.” You cried.

“It’s almost all out.” Bruce told you. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“Dr. Banner, I need you to do something for me.” You said breathlessly, your body beginning to shut down.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I need you to recalibrate the stun gun to permanently remove my powers.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “Why?”

“So nothing like this ever happens again.”

“Then you can’t be an Avenger.” Bruce protested.

“But I can be a human being.” You shouted. “I want that more. I want that most.”

“But-“

“Please.” You cried. “Just do it.”

“Okay.” Bruce agreed. “I will.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I’m gonna pass out now.”

“Okay.” Bruce told you, but you had already hit the floor.

~

Once Peter’s vitals were stable, Bruce transferred him to his own room. As soon as he was awake and responsive, you went to visit him.

“Hey.” You greeted Peter in a soft tone as he woke up from a nap.

“Hi peaches.” Peter lit up when you sat on his bed. “I’m surprised you came to see me. I’m…I’m really glad you did.”

“Why wouldn’t I come to see you?” You smiled teasingly

“Dr. Banner told me what happened.” Peter admitted. “I thought you were going to blame yourself for what happened and be too scared to come near me.”

“Are you scared that I’m near you?” You asked him softly as you kept your eyes down.

“No.” Peter shook his head immediately. “I want you to be near me.”

“Good. I want to be near you too.” You chuckled as you laced your fingers through his. Peter looked at your hands in happy shock before giving them a squeeze.

“You’re touching me?” He asked happily.

“After what happened, I had two options.” You explained. “I could’ve shut you out to ensure I never hurt you again, or I could make sure I never hurt anybody again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had Dr. Banner remove my powers.” You smiled sheepishly. “I told him to take them all away, but he found a way to let me keep the healing aspect. I can still heal, but I can’t hurt.”

“You had him take away your powers?” Peter asked in shock as he sat up straighter. “Why?”

“Because human beings need to be touched.” You shrugged. “I didn’t want to live without that anymore. I didn’t want to be allotted 20 minutes a day to touch the boy I love.”

“You did this for me?” Peter asked fondly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“No.” You shook your head. “I did this for me. I didn’t want to worry anymore. I wanted to be free.”

“So this means…” Peter raised an eyebrow. You nodded a little before leaning in to kiss him, feeling weightless as the fear of hurting him was long behind you.

“It means we get to do this all the time, lover.” You whispered against his lips. “Anytime we want.”

“Anytime we want?” He asked for comfirmation.

“Yup.” You popped the p for emphasis.

“In that case.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “What were you saying before about what I couldn’t handle?”

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[my-simp-land]

You Cheeky Slink

Bucky comes to you in the night to tell you about his latest google dive and maybe something more. Bucky x reader fluff. 1508 words. This is highkey self indulgent so get ready to read the fantasy thats been living in my head lately. Thanks :))

“Doll?”

Bucky stands at my door with just his head stuck into my room.

“Bucky, what are you doing? Where’s your shirt? You’re going to catch a cold wandering around with no clothes on,” I mumble from my pillow and plushie covered bed.

He smirks. He always does that smirk when he’s about to give some smartass response. That stupid lopsided smirk with he petal pink lips surrounded by the beard he’s been growing out. It’s kinda gangly but in a good way.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to come in then, so I don’t catch a cold in this freezing hallway. You know, you don't actually catch colds from being co-”

You had to stop the groan from falling past your lips. “Buck, love you and all, but now isn't the time to drop some of your newly found knowledge on me. It's...what time is it? Bucky, it is past midnight. Please tell me why you’re in my room at 12:38 a.m. talking about colds.”

Peter and I have been teaching Bucky how to use the internet and his phone, and We introduced him to Google a few days ago. Ever since then, he’s been catching himself up on most of what has happened in the last 70s years. It’s really heartwarming to see his interest in aerial technology and space exploration. We’re all glad that Bucky is adjusting well, but he’s been bombarding us all with random knowledge he’s found on the internet.

“Well, in all fairness, you were the one that invited me in, angel. I’m just doing what you said.” The smirk again. It’s too dark now that he's standing in my dark room, but I know the smirk. It bleeds into his voice. It makes him sound more...confident. Or cocky. “But dollface, we’ve explored more of space than we have the ocean. We don’t know what all is living in the deep parts of our ocean, but we know that you’ll get spaghettified if you go into a black hole. Some people think black holes are portals and some think they’re dying stars.”

“Wait, what? Buck, where are you getting your info?”

“Google, of course. Can I sit?”

“Sure.” The heavy weight of a giant man and his absurdly heavy metal arm rests on the corner of my bed. He almost seems hesitant to sit. I can immediately feel his warmth through the blanket. Despite me keeping my area freezing, Bucky always stays warm. “But Bucky, you went to a site to read these things. You used google but from there, what did you do?”

I can hear the wheels turning in his head. “Uh...the interesting looking ones?”

“You can’t believe everything you read on the internet, Buck. Anyone can put whatever they want out there. When you’re doing this research you’ve got to use reliable sources.”

“Reliable sources? Can I lean against the wall and stretch my legs?”

“Sure. Friday will help you with that, but Peter and I, and even Dr. Banner could help explain that to you in more detail tomorrow at a reasonable hour.”

Bucky shuffles his way across my bed to rest against the wall. He’s cautious of my legs as he makes his journey. It’s almost like he goes into assassin mode. Even though I know he’s moving, he tries his best not to disturb me.

“Well, did you know the footstep on the moon will likely stay there for at least 100 million years? There’s no wind on the moon, so it can’t be blown away. And did you know space is completely silent? There’s no air, so the sound waves have nothing to travel through so no sound.”

Bucky carries on with his space talk. Not long after we became friends, he shared that as a child he was interested in planes. He wanted to be a pilot growing up. That quickly became an awkward conversation. Now, Bucky is learning to fly with Sam, but once he learned our travels expanded into space, his dreams were out of this world. Bucky would start his google dives asking about some random thing, but without a doubt, he would end up on space exploration. Peter and I want to see how he’d do in a Wikipedia race. Peter thinks he would be amazing at it, but I know he’d get carried away and go down his own rabbit hole.

“Doll, Neptune has storms big enough to swallow the entire Earth! Can I get under the blankets?”

I hummed my approval and rolled over. Bucky’s voice is deep and raspy, and something about it can lull me to sleep. Usually I can’t sleep with any noise but Bucky is different. He could probably do audiobooks. Steve’s school videos and Bucky’s audiobooks. That’s quite a pair.

Bucky carries on with his space dump until I ask him. “Bucky, Russia got a satellite in space first. Sputnik. Would you have had anything to do about it? Idk. That might be a rough question but…”

He thinks, and he thinks hard. I can imagine his brows would come together, and he would bite at the right side of his lower lip. His Neptune blue eyes would move like he’s reading words off an invisible piece of paper laid before him. He would usually run his fingers through his hair, but Sam mentioned hair loss and that made Buck a little self conscious. I told him not to worry, but I’ll catch him catching himself.

“I’m not sure, angel. I don’t remember anything being about space, but maybe i just didn’t know it was about the space race. That is bizarre though. I was around when we made it to the moon, but I wasn’t. Can I get under the blankets?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck starts to talk again as he pulls the blankets over himself. He worms his legs undermine. “Bucky, get your popsicle legs off me. Go put those things on Steve.”

He lets out a small laugh before he continues his ted talk of everything. Bucky has been taken with space, but he’s interested in cooking too. He loves to sit and watch The Great British Bake-Off or MasterChef or Top Chef. It was quite sweet and funny when he tried to recreate one of the meat pies from season two of TGBBO. He was so confident, and his bottom was so soggy.

“We should grow a fruit salad tree. We’ve got to do something to a fruit tree, but we’d be able to make it grow up to 6 fruits! You could have peaches, Steve gets apples, Sam gets...I don’t know, and I get plums. We’d have to think of something for Pete. But imagine it, a huge fruit salad tree orchard behind the compound!”

“If it’s an orchard, why don’t we just plant a whole bunch of different trees?”

“Bragging rights. Can I lean on these pillows? I’m just gonna lean here.”

“Sure Buckbeak.”

“Hmph. Us having a fruit salad tree would be like the animals in Harry Potter.”

“Yeah?”

Bucky carries on, but his closeness and warmth are enough to lull me to sleep.

I woke up not too much later. Bucky has slowly made his way to fully laying between me and my pillow mountain. He’s pulled me in close to him and nuzzles his face into my neck. He somehow got his arms fully around me with my noticing. Our legs are intertwined, and thankfully, Bucky’s feet have warmed up. I can hear his heart beat in this position. Despite the torture and darkness he’s witness, his heart still beats like a young bird’s wings. His body and mind is old, but his heart is young. A young man from the 40s thrust into the 21st century. It is a cruel fate, but I know Bucky is strong enough to carry this burden. A heart is a heavy burden to carry.

I wake with the sun; a curious beam has made its way directly into my eyes. I go to grab a pillow to cover my face, but I seem to be in the death grip of a certain super soldier. I’m able to shimmy my way around to look at him. He looks at peace. Bucky always carries his anxieties and burdens, but in this moment, he looks youthful. He isn’t a super soldier who lost himself for 70 years. He isn’t a man who is widely hated and has to redeem himself. He isn’t a man with blood on his hands. He’s just Bucky; a great guy that will hold you when you cry or share a big bellied laugh with you.

“See something you like, dollface?”

“You slithered your slinky way into my bed.”

“No, no, no. You invited me in, so I wouldn't catch a cold. I just made myself not cold.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You were obviously the best solution, cuddle bug. Your heart is so full of love and compassion that it’s gone hot.”

“You’re a big sap.”

“Only for my best girl.”

[blazingparker]

But When My Time Is Up, Have I Done Enough?

tag list: @pantastic-peach @winterthal

here it is - the fic inspired by They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera. I cried while writing it, so I apologize in advance for any emotional damage I do with this one. idk I hope I wrote it well enough to make people upset, as bad as that sounds!! If it’s any consolation, they don’t both die in this one.

read it on ao3!

trigger warning: death

---

Present Day

How do you live in a world fixated on death?

That was the question everyone was asking themselves these days, what with the creation of The List.

The List had popped up overnight a year ago, a website with a mile-long list of names, under three simple words: Rest In Peace.

At first, no one thought anything of it. Who cared about some random, anonymous person who had compiled a list of names with a slightly ominous header? If anything, some people found it fun to look at the list and see if their names were on it.

Until they found out what The List was for.

Every day, without fail, every person on the list passed away. Some died of old age and natural causes, some in tragic accidents. The first time it happened, it was dismissed. It was scary, sure, but it had to be a cosmic fluke. But when the list continued to predict the deaths every single day with unfailing accuracy, things changed.

The list was posted at midnight exactly, and most stayed up until then, anxiously refreshing the page before scanning it for their names. In cities across the world, sighs of relief and sobs of anguish escaped. Some retreated to the sanctuary of a warm, comforting bed while others placed frantic calls to loved ones.

Each day was supposed to be treated like a blessing, but it was hard to truly live when constantly surrounded by the reminders of death. The List was seen by many as a blessing - a way to tie up any loose ends and spend your last day on Earth doing everything you’d always wanted to do. But sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder - wouldn’t your time be better served doing all those things before your name ended up on The List?

That was how Peter and Tony always tried to live each day.

They checked The List every day like everyone else, knowing one day one or both of their names would be on it. They were Avengers, for crying out loud. They were at risk of death far more than the average person, and had had several close calls. When their names weren’t on it, they shared a soft kiss, murmured to each other about how grateful they were for another day, and headed off to bed to curl up in each other’s arms and drift off, comforted by the promise of another day.

That didn’t happen this time.

A few minutes after midnight, Peter reluctantly removed himself from where he was plastered against Tony’s chest while they watched a movie together.

“Excuse me, I don’t recall giving you permission to leave,” Tony protested, holding his arms out to the sides in the universal what the hell gesture. Peter just smiled back at him, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

“I’ll be right back. You know I have to check,” the younger man insisted before silently padding off to a different part of the penthouse. Tony sighed, pausing the movie and fiddling with his phone as he waited for Peter to come back.

His entire world slowed to a stop when, instead of feeling Peter settle back in his arms, he heard sniffling. Despite the icy chill of fear rapidly making its way through his body, Tony sprang up and turned around to see Peter standing behind the couch, eyes red and rapidly filling with tears.

“Peter?” Tony whispered, unable to take even one step forward towards his boyfriend. He knew what this kind of reaction meant. “Which one of us is it?”

Instead of giving him an answer, Peter averted his gaze and bit his lip. “What would you do if it was your last day?” He asked, voice cracking in the middle of his question as tears began to silently stream down his face.

Tony inhaled sharply. It was his name, then. Why else would Peter be asking him that question?

As long as Peter lived on, Tony could live with this fate.

It’s not like he’d have to live with it for very long anyway.

“Well,” he started, feeling tears prick in his own eyes but he did his best to shove them back. “Luckily, I have a boyfriend who encourages me to live every day to the fullest anyway. So I don’t really have a long list of things I’d want to make sure I’d do.” Tony’s feet finally unfroze from the ground and he made his way to Peter’s side, wrapping an arm around him. How many more times would he get to do that?

“Sounds like a good boyfriend,” Peter whispered back with a wet chuckle, looking up at Tony. The older man gently wiped his boyfriend’s tears away, leaning in to press a long kiss to his forehead.

“I think I’d head to bed, wrap my arms around him for a while. And then, when the sun starts to rise, I’d suit up and enjoy the sight with him. You know why?” Tony smiled as he leaned in and pressed another kiss to Peter’s cheek.

“Why?” Peter asked like he didn’t already know the answer.

“Because the only thing prettier than a sunrise is you,” Tony murmured, finally capturing Peter’s lips in a soft kiss. Their bodies pressed together as their mouths moved, everything tender and nothing urgent even though now they both knew their time was rapidly running out. Peter was the first to pull away, sniffling and managing a small smile.

“That’s still just as cheesy as the first time you said it,” he said with another little laugh, and Tony shrugged.

“It got you to go out with me, didn’t it?” He asked, and Peter rolled his eyes. Tony took his hand and led them to the bedroom, laying down and drawing Peter into his arms. Peter, for his part, latched onto Tony with all the stickiness he had, and probably a little super strength, too. The two laid like that for a while, relishing in the sound of each other’s breathing and the soft thump of their heartbeats.

---

4 years earlier

“You know, I think May would have wanted you to get out there more.”

“Oh hell no, you are not using my dead aunt as a way to flirt with me. Right, Tony?”

Peter fixed Tony with a glare from where he was sitting across the lab, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the billionaire currently leaning back against a table, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow cocked confidently. The eyebrow slowly slid back down as Tony’s eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly.

“No! Of course not.” Peter huffed out a breath, turning his gaze back to his web shooters.

“I’m using your aunt to explain why you should go out with me.” Peter dropped the parts he was holding in shock, eyes immediately moving back to fixate on Tony.

“Anthony!” He yelped, picking up the pieces of his web shooter with a muttered curse. For his part, Tony simply chuckled and made his way over. While Peter tried to collect the pieces of his work with trembling hands, Tony leaned down, resting his elbows on the lab table and looking at the younger man intently.

“I’m being serious, Peter.” Something about his tone made Peter freeze, looking over at him with wide eyes.

“Um, what?” He asked intelligently, a blush rising to his cheeks as Tony laughed.

“Go out on a date with me. One date, and if you hate it I promise I’ll drop it. Just give me a chance?” He looked so eager and earnest that Peter found himself unable to deny him.

“What would this date entail?” He asked first, wanting to play with Tony a bit, as the older man had just done to him. There was no way he’d actually planned something out - spontaneity was a hallmark of Tony’s personality.

“Easy,” Tony said, starting to tick items off on his fingers. “Pick you up, which is slightly ridiculous since we both live in the tower but whatever. Flowers. Lilies specifically, since I know those are your favorite even though you tried to tell Barton you didn’t have a favorite.”

Peter blushed.

“A picnic date on the rooftop around six. I’ll make you that pesto pasta that you love so much, and chocolate covered strawberries because even though you try to hide it, I know you have a sweet tooth. Then, talking as you watch the sunset and I stare at you.”

“Stare at me? Why?” Peter couldn’t help but laugh.

“The only thing prettier than a sunset is you,” Tony shot back smoothly, a small smirk forming on his face as Peter blushed even darker and looked away. He’d walked right into that one. Taking a few deep breaths, Peter looked back at Tony and stood up.

“What about a sunrise?” He asked. One last attempt to make Tony slip up.

“It’s got nothing on you.” Peter smiled a little bit to himself.

“Great. I’ll see you on Friday,” he said before making his way to the door of the lab.

Thanks to his super-hearing, he didn’t miss the celebratory whoop that Tony let out when the door closed behind him.

---

Present Day

“Tony?”

Peter’s voice brought him out of his head as he stared at his clothes. They were supposed to be getting dressed, but how could he do that knowing that this was the outfit he’d likely die in? Tony just looked at his boyfriend, unable to put his feelings into words. Peter, ever the angel, understood without him having to say anything. He moved to Tony’s side, looking over the options before picking up a hanger holding a navy blue long-sleeve shirt.

“You know, I’ve always loved how this looks on you,” he said. That was all the encouragement Tony needed to take it from him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, drawing Peter in for another soft kiss. Before things could heat up, Peter pulled away with a whispered reminder of their sunrise date. The two finished getting dressed then, grabbing some fruit from the kitchen and putting it in their picnic basket. After that first date, which Peter had loved so much, Tony had kept a picnic basket on hand for whenever the urge struck them. With how much they loved to watch sunrises and sunsets together, it had been a good investment.

The pair made their way up to the roof, sitting further back from the edge than they normally did but still staying pressed close together. They ate in silence, the air charged with all the things they wanted to say but couldn’t. Couldn’t because they didn’t have the words. Couldn’t because it would make things all too real.

The sky grew lighter, painted with soft pinks and yellows, and an ever-deepening shade of blue as the sun steadily rose higher in the sky.

Not a bad last sunrise, Tony thought to himself.

The city started to wake up beneath them - if it had ever slept. Peter could hear it far better than Tony could - car engines sputtering to life as people climbed in for their daily commute; the bell ringing on coffee shop doors as others headed in for their much-needed caffeine boost. The fluttering of bird’s wings as they awoke and began their journeys for the day, the whistles to hail a taxi and the hum of constant traffic.

New York City was coming to life just as Tony’s life was coming to an end.

The thought was almost too much to handle.

“I love you,” Peter said softly, breaking the silence just as Tony’s thoughts were on the verge of spinning out of control. Their eyes met, and Peter looked like he was holding back tears again. “I just-I really need you to know just how much I love you, okay? I never thought I could love someone this much. It’s just one of so many things you’ve shown me over the past five years, and-” Peter swallowed down a sob, “and I’m so grateful. I love you.”

Tony was speechless, leaning in to give him a long, searing kiss. When he absolutely had to pull away, he whispered his words against Peter’s lips.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

---

3 years earlier

“Do you ever wish you didn’t live in New York?” Peter asked one day. Tony reached out and caught the hacky sack his boyfriend had been repeatedly tossing up towards the ceiling and then catching as it fell back down.

“What makes you ask that?” He asked, peering down at where his boyfriend’s head rested in his lap. Peter shrugged.

“I’ve never lived anywhere but here. I know you’ve got the place in Malibu, and it’s awesome, but you don’t live there. So I guess I was just wondering if you stay here because you want to, or because it’s where the Avengers are.”

Tony hummed softly, contemplating his response before realizing that his not knowing the answer was the answer.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I mean, this is where I grew up. It’s where the Avengers are, where the company is. Most importantly, it’s where you are.” Peter blushed, smiling softly to himself at that. “I don’t think I’ve ever wished to live elsewhere, but I never exactly chose this place, either.”

“You fell into it,” Peter said with a nod of understanding.

“Exactly.”

There was a pause then, where Tony gave Peter his ball back but the younger man only squeezed it gently, gazing up at the ceiling.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that oversized brain of yours?” Tony asked, poking Peter’s cheek gently and laughing when the man attempted to nip his finger.

“I never really chose this place either. I was born in Queens and when I was younger I had grand plans about seeing the world. But then I became Spider-Man, and…I couldn’t do that, you know?”

Tony didn’t know.

“Why not?” He asked, thoroughly confused.

“They needed me, and it’s not like I’ve ever had the funds to do something like that anyway,” Peter explained with another shrug. “Just a silly dream.” He squawked indignantly as Tony stood up, abruptly dislodging him from where he’d been resting comfortably. “Hey!”

“Come on, Parker,” Tony said, standing before him with an outstretched hand. “Time to go plan that dream.”

“What? Are you serious?!” Peter asked, and Tony nodded. “Holy shit!” Peter yelled in excitement. “Holy shit, this is crazy! Oh my god, I love you!”

They both froze.

Neither one of them had said that before.

Peter, to his credit, didn’t shy away or take it back. He looked Tony in the eyes and opened his mouth to repeat himself. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words fell from Tony’s lips so easily he couldn’t believe he hadn’t said them before. “Fuck, Peter, I love you too.” He fell back onto the couch, hands grabbing desperately at Peter’s shirt as their lips met.

---

Present day

After their silent breakfast on the rooftop, Tony and Peter retreated back to the penthouse and laid down on the couch together. Their hands wandered over each other’s bodies, just exploring and attempting to commit every little detail to memory.

“What else would you do on your last day?” Peter asked eventually, voice soft as he looked up at Tony.

“I think I’d make a fantastic lunch. All our favorites, you know? Maybe even bake something. I know my boyfriend has a sweet tooth.” Tony winked down at Peter, whose smile was rapidly becoming even larger.

“Well, what are we waiting for then?” He asked, hopping off the couch and holding out a hand. Tony took it, kissing the back of it reverently before following Peter to the kitchen. The smaller man headed their box of recipe cards, Tony protesting that he could get it and Peter turning around and ignoring him in favor of getting it anyway.

Well, fine. It wasn’t like Tony was going to complain about the view.

“So, when you say all our favorites, you mean…?” Peter asked, trailing off as he placed the box on the counter and looked at Tony.

“I mean all of them,” the other man said seriously. “The pesto pasta you love, my mom’s lasagna, that salad we made one time with the almonds and the feta cheese,” Tony said, listing off their favorite dishes to have.

“Well, it’s a good thing we went grocery shopping, then!” Peter said with a laugh, opening their recipe box and pulling out the cards they needed. Tony smiled, watching him for a moment as he started to read over the ingredients and flutter about the kitchen, pulling out various spices and pasta boxes and meat.

The two cooked the way they always had - with JARVIS playing some music quietly in the background so they could take frequent breaks to grab onto each other and sway, dancing in their kitchen like the lovesick couple they were. Sauces were smeared on cheeks, and laughter echoed throughout the penthouse.

The laughter and conversation flowed easily on through lunch, nothing like the near-silent breakfast on the roof. Tony could almost forget what had happened that morning, and what was to come later. He distracted himself by watching Peter’s tongue dart out and lick his lips as he finished his meal and set down his fork.

“And what will we be having for dessert, Chef Stark?” He asked, eyes twinkling as he teased Tony.

“If I’m lucky? You,” Tony said, allowing his gaze to rake up and down Peter’s body appreciatively. Peter gasped in mock scandal, placing a hand to his heart as Tony walked over to him, pulling him to his feet and pressing close.

“That’s not a proper dessert,” Peter tried to tease again, but the effect fell flat when his voice came out breathy and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh yeah?” Tony murmured, moving his hands to hold onto Peter’s hips and leaning in to kiss at his neck. “Then why does it always taste so good?” He emphasized the last two words by rolling their hips together.

Peter struggled to answer, breathy moans falling from his lips as he tried to think of words. “Um, because-because-”

“Tell me all about it once we’re in bed, my love. If you can say anything but my name,” Tony all but growled into Peter’s ear before picking him up and carrying him off.

---

One year earlier

“What the hell were you thinking, Tony?! You could have been killed!”

“Oh, so this is my fault, now? I was attacked!”

Peter and Tony were standing inches from each other in the living room of the penthouse. Both were dirty and a little bloody, Peter still in his Spider-Man suit and Tony in his regular clothes. The Mark XV had long been sent down to the labs for repairs.

“Yes, you were attacked, but your response should have been to play defense and wait for me! Not go flying off into a horde of zombie creatures on your own!” Peter yelled.

“My name’s not on The List today, I’m not going to die! I was fine - I am fine!” Tony shouted back, gesturing to himself.

“Who gives a fuck about The List, Tony? You gave me a heart attack! You could have turned into one! You could’ve gotten really hurt and died tomorrow instead! How do you think that would make me feel? You can’t do this to me, Tony! I’ve lost everyone - I can’t lose you, too!” Peter screamed, and Tony immediately took note of the tears streaming down his face.

Well, shit. He felt like a total asshole now.

“Peter-hey, Peter,” he said, voice infinitely softer now. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

“Really?” Peter asked, hiccuping as the tears came a little faster. Tony would have laughed if his boyfriend wasn’t in such deep, genuine distress.

“Yes, really. That was stupid and reckless of me, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like I was a solo act. I’m not anymore. We’re a team, and I should have waited for you. I won’t do that again, I promise. I swear to you that I won’t.”

Tony meant it.

Peter was right, he had lost everyone who loved him. It was selfish of Tony to take off into battle without considering how Peter might feel or the effect it could have if something happened to him.

He was part of a unit, and he needed to start acting like it.

“You’d better not. If you do, I’m gonna kick your ass,” Peter said, deadly serious for once. Tony nodded.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. But, I’ve made you a promise. I don’t intend on breaking it. I know how important this is to you.” Tony held his arms out, and Peter only hesitated for a second before leaning in and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend in return. The two stayed like that for a while, hugging in the middle of the apartment with Tony rubbing Peter’s back and whispering affirmations of how much he loved him as Peter tried to take deep breaths and slow his tears.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered eventually, pulling back from the hug just enough to lean up and give Tony a quick kiss.

“Now do we get to have the makeup sex?” Tony asked, and Peter was unable to keep his laugh to himself. He decided not to speak, simply pulling away and walking towards the bedroom. He pretended not to smile as Tony eagerly chased after him.

---

The alarm signaling an Avengers-level threat started blaring through the tower, disrupting Tony and Peter from their hazy cuddling.

“Why?” Tony groaned, dragging the word out as he threw a pillow towards the door to their bedroom, as though he could hit some magical switch to turn it off. “Come on, it’s almost time for dinner. Why do we have to deal with this?”

Peter just giggled, leaning in and nuzzling him, peppering kisses over his cheeks and jaw.

“Because we’re Avengers, and that means we never get a good moment to ourselves,” he joked before reluctantly leaving the bed. “Come on, let’s go.”

They’d had an excellent afternoon, all things considered. After the amazing sex, they had laid there for hours, talking about everything and nothing all at once. For a few moments, they’d gotten up and danced slowly around their bedroom before falling right back onto the mattress. It was everything Tony could have ever wanted.

As they suited up, Tony couldn’t help but think that if he had to die today, then saving people wouldn’t be a bad way to go. Not after a day like today.

“Ready to go, Iron Man?” Peter asked as they entered the elevator, smiling up at Tony. His mask was in his hands, and he looked slightly pale. Tony would bet good money on the reason for that paleness.

“Always, Spider-Man,” he replied easily as the elevator brought them down to the helicopter landing pad. Tony leaned in and stole a kiss from Peter, leaving his boyfriend breathless and blushing like a teenager as the doors opened.

“Alright, now that you two are here we can get started. We won’t have to travel far, since the problem is right here,” Steve started as soon as Peter and Tony walked up to the group of Avengers waiting for them. If anyone had seen his name on The List, no one said anything. No one made a snarky comment about Tony wrapping his arm around Peter’s waist, either.

“There’s a group of aliens-”

“Sakaarans,” Thor supplied helpfully, ignoring the slight look of annoyance on Steve’s face at being cut off.

“They’re wreaking havoc across the city. Let’s handle this like we did with the Chitauri a while back - just take them out. They’re a finite group with a ship, no portal this time. Just good, old-fashioned combat,” Steve explained. “Rhodey, I want you dealing with that ship. Everyone else, fan out and take out as many as you can.” He looked around, seeing the nods from their group of heroes. “Alright. Avengers--”

“Assemble!” Tony cut in. At the look of annoyance he got, he started backing towards the edge of the landing pad. “Uh oh, I’ve pissed off the Capsicle,” he snarked. “Let’s go, Spidey.” Peter quickly hopped up, sticking to the back of Tony’s suit in a hilarious version of a piggy-back ride. Tony blasted off, heading straight for Central Park where a large group of Sakaarans were terrorizing civilians and destroying anything that dared get in their way.

“You guys have absolutely no respect for park maintenance,” Tony quipped as he zoomed in closer. Peter hopped off his back, shooting a web and swinging through the trees as he webbed up Sakaarans. Tony simply weaved straight through them, blasting as many as he could with his repulsors and straight-up body slamming the ones that got in his way.

Not unlike the Battle of New York, the chaos and destruction extended in every direction. Avengers and SHIELD agents alike were bringing down as many of the Sakaarans as possible. Only when Rhodey radioed in and confirmed the destruction of the massive ship did anyone breathe a sigh of relief. The fight was far from over, but at least now they knew that no more were on their way.

Slowly, the Avengers worked their way towards each other. They finally met up a few blocks west of Central Park, where Tony and Peter had first started their fight. The remaining Sakaarans advanced from every angle. There weren’t many left, but they were deadly and most of the heroes were sporting injuries that proved it. Natasha was favoring her right foot over her left, Steve had a deep gash running the length of his forearm, and even Rhodey’s suit was looking worse for wear.

“Alright, let’s take these guys out,” Tony said, mimicking cracking his knuckles. He turned to Peter, faceplate flipping up long enough to give him a meaningful look. Though Peter couldn’t take off his mask, Tony didn’t miss the minute movement of the eye pieces or the slight tilt of his head.

The first of the Sakaarans charged at them, weapon out and ready to blast. The Avengers leaped into action, each doing their damn best to keep themselves from harm and protect their teammates.

Thor got hit first, grunting as he bent over and took a minute to recover.

Agent Hill went down next, Fury covering her body and shouting for a medic.

Facing down the last handful of Sakaarans, Tony knew there were too many weapons trained on them for the odds to be in his favor. There was no way all of them would miss him.

This had to be it. Tony knew it, and he was ready.

What he wasn’t ready for was their abrupt change in position, the Sakaarans shooting upwards as Peter swung past.

He wasn’t ready to watch in horror as one blast hit its mark, hitting Peter in the chest and sending him flying back, slamming to the ground and rolling across the pavement before coming to a stop.

He wasn’t ready for Peter to lie still and not get back up.

“No!” Tony yelled, pure rage and fury in his voice. He could see the Avengers quickly dispatched the last Sakaarans, but he didn’t focus on that. The repulsors flared up as he shot across the street to where Peter was laying.

“Peter, hey. Peter. Peter,” Tony said, the armor opening up as he reached Peter’s side. He all but collapsed next to his boyfriend, whose chest was barely rising and falling. Tony felt tears pool in his eyes, ignoring the blood as he drew Peter into his lap and ripped off the man’s mask.

“Hey,” he whispered, choking on a sob. “Come on, talk to me.”

Peter’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and he looked up at Tony. The little shit had the nerve to give him a sad smile, his hand reaching up. Tony immediately caught it in his own, his grip gentle.

“Hey Tony,” Peter whispered back, drawing in another shaky breath. Tony felt tears streaming down his face, dripping onto Peter’s suit. “It’s okay,” he murmured.

“It’s not okay! This was supposed to be me!” Tony whispered. He would have screamed it if he could have. It was like someone had sucker punched all the air out of him.

“No, it wasn’t,” Peter murmured, trying to shake his head.

Tony couldn’t breathe.

All day, he’d thought it was his name on The List.

And all this time, it had actually been Peter’s.

“No,” he breathed, hating how Peter nodded in response. “No-why did we spend your last day doing all the things I wanted to do, then? Why weren’t you selfish? Why didn’t we do what you wanted? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony gripped Peter’s hand a little tighter.

“You’re what makes me happy,” Peter wheezed out. “I didn’t care what we did, as long as we did it together.”

Tony actually did sob out loud at that.

“I can’t lose you,” he gasped out, holding onto Peter tightly.

“It’ll be okay, Tony,” Peter whispered back. “I love you so much, and I know it’s going to hurt. I lived through it. But you’ll be okay.”

“How can I be okay in a world without you in it? I love you so fucking much. How could I ever be okay again?” Tony asked, voice smaller than it had ever been.

“You’ll learn how. I know you will.” For a moment, there was silence. If Tony couldn’t see Peter’s chest rising and falling, he would’ve thought he was gone already. Peter’s eyes shifted from his face to the sky, taking in the changing colors.

“It’s a pretty sunset,” Tony forced himself to say.

“The only thing prettier than a sunset is you,” Peter whispered back. The two locked eyes, and Peter took one more stuttered breath before letting it out.

He didn’t take another breath in.

[lizzy-williams]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐭

🍎Warnings: dark!peter parker, manipulation, innocent!reader, smut, triggering themes, oral (male receiving), HOLY FUCK THIS IS WRONG. But holy hell... is it erotic 😏

🍎Read at your own risk!!! You’ve been warned, don’t wanna see it then don’t read it.

🍎Masterlist

🍎A/N: I am kinda in love with the dark!peter genre of fanfic, so behold the first of many 🙃 THE READER IS IN COLLEGE

“Professor?”

The voice was soft, but with an empty classroom, it was heard by the only one left in the room after his last period, his eyes averting his paper that he was grading.

As her eyes met his from the doorway as she made a soft smile, her bag slung over her shoulder as she held a few books in her hand, her demeanor calm and gentle.

“Miss [l/n], what might I be able to help you with,” the young professor spoke, a genuine smile crossing his face, setting his red grading pen down on his oak desk.

The girl peeked her head past the doorframe, hoping that the classroom was truly cleared out. She was shy, and if there was even one person, she would mutter out a ‘never mind’ and go back to her dorm and settle for the evening. But luckily the room was desolate besides the one person she truly wanted to see.

But Peter was more excited to see her than he should have been. [y/n] was his favorite student, and after things fell out with MJ, he was actually quite lonely. But [y/n]... she was perfect for him. She was brilliant, stunning, but most of all she was innocent.

In the smarts department she was a genius. But when it came to everything and anything to with adult life and culture, she was naive. And a teacher was always up for teaching the inexperienced by any means.

“P-Professor, I was just wondering if you could help me with this paper. I just wanted you to proof read and tell me what I can do to improve it,” she went on, slowly walking towards Mr. Parker’s desk.

“Yes, I guess, I need a break from grading anyways,” he acted thoughtful, even though grading papers was the last thing that he wanted to do.

“Thank you,” she gave a small smile, taking a seat in front of his desk.

But what made his breath hitch made him want to shove everything off the desk and take her right there.

As she bent down to unzip her backpack and get her folder holding said assignment, Peter could see right down her shirt, her breasts on full display, the white bra she was wearing being exposed.

I wonder what color her panties are, so fucking pure, I wonder what noises she’ll make when I-

“Mr. Parker?” [y/n] spoke, visibly concerned, snapping him out of his lust-induced funk he was in, making him blink.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “please, why don’t you read it to me?” He suggested, resting his chin on his knuckles, his full attention on her.

“Oh, um, okay, yeah of course,” she laughed nervously, glancing down at her almost masterpiece.

But as she began to read the words in front of her, Peter was focused on something else more... distracting.

Even though only she torso could be seen over the top of his desk, his gaze trailed up and down her body, practically undressing her with his eyes, taking in every part of her, from the way her breasts looked against her sweater, or the way her hair perfectly fit her face, but most of all her lips.

He couldn’t help but think the most sinful things about them. What it would be like to kiss them, what they would look like wrapped around his cock or sucking on his fingers, or what they would look like if he came all over them.

He watched them as they moved, pronouncing each word with ease, the words she was speaking being practically unheard as she went on. And he didn’t miss the skirt that she was wearing when she walked in, perfect and white, something that just screamed “virgin”.

Time seemed to fly by as his thoughts drifted to sinful things, thinking about taking her on every surface in his classroom. On his desk, against the wall, even on top of the desk she sat at everyday in the front of the room.

“So,” she began to speak, Peter snapping into the real world again, “how was that? I think paragraph two was a little strange sounding, but does everything else sound okay?”

She was like an anxious puppy, emotionally vulnerable to criticism. But she was willing to take help if it would make her paper better. But that was in the back of the professor’s mind.

“It sounds amazing, you’re a really good writer, [y/n].”

This was the first time that the professor had used her first name, usually addressing her formally. It was strange to her, making her shift in her seat.

“I’ll tell you what. I have a special course,” he began, and of course, [y/n] always eager to learn, she perked up, “it a special one-on-one course. I save it for the smartest in each class.”

[y/n] was now completely focused on what he was going to say next, not knowing that this was the thing that would take a toll on her life as she knew it.

“That means you get a good grade on your paper there and even extra credit. It’s a little interactive, if you’re okay with that.”

[y/n] nodded hesitantly, Peter giving a smile that was hard to read, but the red flag went over her head, thinking that it was just another one of his friendly grins.

“Well, Miss [y/n], if you’ll take a seat at your normal desk, we can get started.”

She stood, making her way to her usual desk, taking a seat, Peter giving a shake of his head.

“No, no, take a seat on top of the desk, if you will,”

Without a word, she shifted, propping herself up on the flat surface, her hands folded in her lap, her legs swinging as her ankles crossed.

The position made Peter eager to get this going.

“Alright. Now, I’m going to do something, and I need you to understand that this is for a completely educational purpose, okay?”

[y/n] nodded, letting out a gentle “uh-huh,” before Peter got closer, a comforting expression visible on his face.

He nudged her thighs apart with his hands, treating her as if she might shatter. When he was finally positioned right where he wanted to be, he placed a hand on the small of her back, pressing her against him, her breath hitching, trying to keep the whimper she wanted to let out in her throat.

“I’m going to do something else now, then we can start the lesson,”

And without a response, he leaned in, his face going into the crook of her neck, laying a soft kiss. But one kiss turned into three, and soon the kissing turned into licking and nipping, the whimper now finding its way out of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Peter was in heaven. Her skin was as soft as it looked, her scent smelling like peaches and cider, and he loved the way her neck felt under the mercy of his mouth.

“Your doing wonderful, [y/n],” he muttering into her skin, the vibration making her arms wrap around him, similar to a hug.

He continued, and just before he stopped, me stuck out his tongue and licked a strip up her throat and up to her earlobe, before mumbling, “I think you’re ready to start the lesson now...”

Before she could respond, he pulled back, beginning to speak again, her arms loosening from his torso.

“Now this is a lesson that most people learn in college, but they never learn it the right way,” he began, her anxious gaze meeting his calm and collected one, “what I’m going to give you is a gift. An opportunity not many girls your age get.”

“W-What class is this for...?” [y/n] muttered nervously, “I don’t know if I want this-,”

Peter’s eyes darkened, not liking the sudden disobedience. And she was doing so good...

“You want the extra credit right? Would hate to see what it would do to your perfect grade if you missed out on an opportunity like this,” his voice was dark as he looked into her wide and frightened eyes, “don’t you want a good grade?”

[y/n] nodded, hating to think that there was ever a chance she would get a less then satisfactory grade in her favorite class.

“Good girl,” his voice softened, his hand running up and down soothingly as she began to lose tension, “I just want what’s best for you. You are my favorite student after all.”

[y/n] whispered a small ‘thank you’ but her breath hitched as she felt his hand drift farther up her thigh, up and under her skirt. With a small whimper, he touched her covered clit, making her jump.

She had never even touched herself there, the only thing close being when she would drive over a steep hill and she felt a strange feeling in her gut.

“What are you doing?” She anxiously whispered, Peter shushing her.

“Shh, this is the first lesson. Repeat after me. Pleasure is key.”

She silently repeated. She had never really had a class about something close to this accept for the sex talk they gave whatever many years ago in high school.

She felt so dirty. But what he was doing felt so good.

His actions progressed, pulling her panties to the side, his index and pointer fingers drifting across her folds. She whimpered, her nails latching onto his shoulders, her forehead now resting on his shoulder as she tried to wrap her head around what she was feeling.

“Look at you, your so wet... virgins get wet so easily...,” he growled, finding her clit quickly, making her grasp tighter onto him.

She felt as if she was in a movie. A dirty movie that her friends would sometimes put on. And every time, [y/n] would close her eyes during the sex scenes. But now it was like she was in one.

“I need you to slip off your skirt and your panties, alright? It’s time for another part of the lesson.”

Her nod was full of reluctance, but she did as she was told, her body betraying her mind. Peter watched as her clit was exposed, and absolutely hairless.

He felt like a kid on Christmas. All that time waiting, and finally seeing his gift. And it was just what he had asked for.

“I’m going to slip off your shirt and your bra now. This part requires you to be completely nude,” he said sternly.

Before she would absorb his words, her arms were pulled up, her sweater slipping off, her bra not too soon after. And unlike any other boy would, Peter removed it with ease with no trouble at all.

He stepped away, looking at his favorite student. Her hair was ruffled, her clit swollen as she stayed with her thighs spread, her breasts looking more perfect in person then he ever thought they would.

So many nights had he stroked his cock to the thought of her. The thought of what her body would look like. What sounds she would make. And most of all what she would look like on her knees.

“Absolutely stunning. Get on your knees, princess,” he pointed in front of him.

“Why?”

As soon as it left her mouth she wanted to stuff the word back in, the look in her professor’s eyes making her stomach tense.

“Get. On. Your. Knees.” He gritted, “I won’t ask again.”

She then scrambled to the ground, on her knees and looked up at him, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing against her bottom lip, her doe eyes attached to his wandering ones.

“Pleasure is key, remember? And because you don’t have a partner, you’ll be mine. Now the first part is with your mouth. I’ll show you how to do it to me. And then I will do it to you, understand?”

“Mhm.” She nodded, his hands reaching for his belt, unbuckling it slowly, her eyes glued to his hands.

As soon as he pulled both his pants and boxers down, stepping out of them, [y/n] was transfixed at the sight of such a falic part of the male body.

She had never seen one up close and in person before. It was flushed pink and twitching as if it had its own heartbeat.

“Take it in one of your hands,” and she did as he said, “now cup my balls princess,”

The instructions were easy enough. But it was hard to do. For her at least.

The contact to his cock and the sight of his favorite girl on her knees for him was enough to get him to cum on the spot. But he would rather cum down her throat.

“Open your mouth, [y/n].” He instructed, and she did as he demanded, tears almost forming, “now stick your tongue out,”

She looked so perfect like this. He was ready to make this angel a little less holy. To teach her that this was only something he could give her.

“So good for me,” he weaved his hand through the back of her head and in her hair, pulling her in closer, “put it in your mouth, princess, I’ll do the rest, yeah?”

She couldn’t help but lick it first before putting the tip in her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, hoping that she was doing a good job.

But she was suddenly jerked foreword, his cock going into her mouth, his tip poking at the mouth while she gagged. Tears welled up in her eyes, making Peter reach for her hand, holding it as he pulled back out, before sliding right back in roughly. Soon he set a steady pace, the girl below him desperately trying to steady her breaths.

Tears streamed down her face, her mascara ruined, her lips swollen, her hands holding onto his thighs to anchor him. She whimpered and whined against him, wanting to stop but the vibrations from her protest only spurred him on, fucking her face, his perfect little toy.

This was everything he had imagined and more.

“Such a good girl, just like that, you’re doing amazing - fuck -,”

A few more thrusts and he was right on the edge, his hand gripping on her hair tighter and his pace faster.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum down your throat, princess, just keep going-,”

When the warm liquid finally oozed out, she began to cough in her desperation for air. He pulled out, grabbing her jaw as he came on her face as she coughed up his cum, sobbing as she gasped for air.

And even though she was almost choked to death by her teacher’s cock, she still managed to let out a rough whimper: “Did I do good?”

“Yes, [y/n], you did absolutely amazing.” He panted, his face flushed, “I think you’ve learned enough for today, we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.” He sighed, grabbing his pants and slipping them back on and the girl scrambled to find her clothes.

Soon enough she was fully dressed, grabbing her bag. But she was soon pulled back by her arm, now facing Mr. Parker.

“Remember, [y/n], this club is only for my best students. Nobody else can know, or else they’ll all want to join. We can’t have that...,” he said quietly, giving a sweet kiss to her forehead as she closed her eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Parker...,” she muttered, hugging him gently, “thank you for the opportunity.”

“Of course. You are my favorite student after all.”