#Some people write peter super helpless

[celestialseawitch-ff]

People freaking out about describing men in "feminine" ways. Like. Like can we not? Can we not get mad about a writer describing someone "blushing" as "being flushed." Can we not immediately say this can only be used to describe women in a romantic sense?

Like please don't sexualize my characters when they're in a platonic/familial scene because you think boys aren't allowed to be flushed when they get complimented.

Let boys blush! Let them be soft and happy! Let them be okay with physical affection with other family members!

It is 2023 and I should not be receiving hate because I write boys that are in touch with their feelings and like hugging their family members.

[goodstories08]

Mafia Bosses Son

Peter Parker (Tom Holland) X Male Reader

Request: No

Description: You were the son of a famous and dangerous Mafia Boss who trained you to bee an assassin at a young age. You still loved to have fun, and on one of your heists you were caught by the one and only Spider-Man.

The moon cast its bright light onto the New York City skyline. You watch the cars rush through the busy streets, horns honking as pedestrians walk along side them. You scan the stores from the building you stood on top of and watched as people walked in and out of the jewelry store you were planning to rob. Your dad didn’t know you were out since you snuck away for the night. When ever you felt stressed a calming simple robbery was good enough to calm you down.

You had gotten into an argument with your dad since he wanted to send you on a mission that was not good enough. You had abilities that could be used for some of the greatest heists of all time and he wanted you to go retrieve another kid he adopted. I mean sure it would be cool to have a sibling, but another kid with super powers just didn’t sit right with you.

After a few minutes you finally climbed down the fire escape ladder and snuck into the jewelry store. You step into the store causing the bell on the door to ring, there were rows of glass cases filled with gold and diamond chains. The rings and bracelets were shimmering, a small plump man with coke bottle glasses popped up from one of the counters. “May I help you?”

You grin and start to lightly chant something below your breath, “Listen to my words, fall into my grasp, the diamond necklaces are mine, hand them over.” You kept repeating the same sentence over and over, a stream of sound waves escaped your mouth and filled the mans ears. His face fell into a trance as he opened the cases and pulled out a dozen diamond necklaces. Once he handed them to you you rushed out of the building, quickly climbing back up to the top of the buildings. You started to run across the top of the buildings till you heard someone following you.

You stoped on-top of one of the buildings and looked around, “Who’s there?” You heard something move behind you but before you could check it someone leaped forward and pushed you. You rolled onto the floor and hit the floor so you would fly back up to your feet, “It’s just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” He says with his arms raised, you grin and begin to whisper something.

“Yea you can stop, I know all about you. I’ve been trying to catch you for weeks and know all about your weird hypnosis thing,” the boy said sounding really proud of himself. “Ok cool, we’ll I got to go now so,” you say while turning toward the ledge of the building. “N-no wait your not!,” Spider-Man kept toward and pinned you to a nearby brick wall. You smiled and looked the boy in his sits eyes, “I like it when you pin me, makes me feel soooo, helpless.”

The boy started to stutter, his face was red beneath the mask and you felt his grip loosen, you took advantage of this and swung around him. You flipped him back to the floor and straddled his waist, pinning his arms above his head with a swift motion, also pulling his mask up to his nose. His exposed lips were quivering a bit and you noticed the boys cheeks were red. “Uh… um,” the boy stuttered, you rolled your eyes and lean onto him.

You connect your lips to his and make out with him for a minute. After he got more comfortable he pulled his arms back and started to wrap them around your waist. Before he could you pulled of and flipped him back, sliding one of his web slingers of in the proses. You shoot a web at him and giggle as he struggles, “Sorry Spider but I gotta go sell these.” You hold up the necklaces, “Your a good kisser, thanks Spider Boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter ran across the roof tops, wiping web off of him as he ran. He had to lay there for a whole two hours waiting for the webs to dissolve, while laying there he had time to replay the kiss in his head. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time, you were a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and on top of that you were a guy. Peter never thought he would enjoy kissing a guy but he loved it better than any girl he had ever kissed, which wasn’t that many but you were still the best kiss he’s ever had.

Once Peter reached his apartment building he climbed down toward his window. He climbed through his window and walked on all fours across the ceiling. He dropped down, when he turned around he saw Ned there sitting on his bed. One of his spare Spider-Man masks was being worn on Ned’s head. “Ned! You scared me,” Ned tore the mask of with a massive grin plastered on his face.

“So where were you?,” Ned said while wiggling his eyebrows. Peter blushed for a second, thinking back to the kiss he shared with you. “Ahh it’s nothing,” Peter says while looking down to the floor, “Pete the last time I saw you blush like that was when Lisa Johnson kissed you in the 5th grade.” Peter grinned and decided to tell Ned about you. “Dam, now what do you do. This is like a classic enemies to lovers story. And how do you know that he actually likes you, what it’s was just to get your guard down?,” Ned started to ramble before Peter shut him up. “It’s fine, I’m gonna try and catch him tomorrow. I think I know we’re hell strike next,” Peter says as Ned nods along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night Peter waited at one of the most expensive jewelry stores. He wanted in the alleyway without his suit on. He noticed a dark shadow moving across the roof tops, he aimed a web slinger up and shot it at your figure, he tugged down. You fell down from the buildings but Peter caught you before you hit the ground. “What the? Wait a minute,” you pick the webbing of your cloths and stare at the boy holding you.

“Spiderboy?,” he nods and sets you down. “Yea that me,” you felt yourself blush a bit which was surprising to you. “Well I-I just wanted you t-to know that I enjoyed the kiss,” you look away for a second and shuffle up and down a bit. “And I-I know that you probably did it just to get my guard down but I really liked it and…” you cut him off with a kiss, he quickly leaned into hit and his arms went to wrap around your waist. You pull back and look into his eyes, “Bye bye spider boy.” He ruffled his eyebrows before you started to whisper in his ear, he fell a sleep after a few seconds, “Sorry my little Spider.” Let’s just say Peter never gave up, he wore you down till you finally did agree to go on a date with him. Now you were one of the most famous Avengers, living your best life.

[hughiecampbelle]

Homesick (Peter Parker Oneshot)

((NO WAY HOME SPOILERS))

Character/s: Peter

Word Count: 1,426

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writinqss @brithedemonspawn @ladyeliot @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston @diana-westmoon @glitchybrit @lost-girl-of-onceuponatime

A/N: This wasn't the fic I wasn't planning after I saw the movie, but I can't pass up the idea :) I'm not super crazy about the writing style, but I think that's just me being a lil too critical. Hope you like it my loves!!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!!! 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLIST / TAG LIST

There it is again.

This indescribable feeling. This sudden want to sob. To scream. To cry. The urge to seek shelter in the nearest set of brown eyes, to cling to the forearm of the nearest brown-haired boy, to find yourself lost in the gaze of coke-bottle glasses. Running up to strangers, unsure of why, unsure how to stop yourself, so overcome with this inexplicable joy until they shatter your heart, stepping on the pieces as they jerk away. When they are too tall, when their voice isn’t right, when something is missing from them, something you can feel, but could never begin to put into words. You back away, a wounded animal, stuttering through an apology. "I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else. . ." Someone without a name, a face, an identity. Someone who never seemed to exist at all. Is this a trick? Some sort of sick joke? Is the world fucking with you? You can’t trust your mind anymore. Your instinct to call out a name that never existed at all is too much, too powerful. How can you find him if all you have to call him is silence? The absence of a name? You know it’s real, that whatever used to exist was real, there’s not enough proof to convince anyone else. There are gaps in memory, in your life, things that feel out of sorts. This boy, you know him. He makes your heart pound out of your chest. He makes your knees weak. You lose sleep over him, restless in this abyss of questions, of uncertainty. Who is he? Who was he to you? Where is he now?

The city’s too big. Full of too many people almost like him, as if they know you’re looking, as if they’re taunting you. A laugh, you think ,so similar to his it’s criminal. It doesn’t come from him though. It never does. Someone on the subway, the bus, walking through the sidewalks. They make you want to break out into a sprint. They make you want to stop traffic, to stop time itself. Sometimes you catch up to them, look them in the eye, only to be let down. There is something about him, you remember, something sweet, something kind, something that made you feel safe. These boys, these men, these strangers, they don’t have that. They smile at you, thinking they’ll have a chance, promising they could be this mysterious guy that’s got you going crazy. They wish, you wish, too. On shooting stars, on planes in the sky, hoping against hope that he will show up any moment and explain everything. Sometimes they get away. Disappearing around corners, in the crowds, disappearing as if he never existed at all. It leaves you hurt, helpless, fearing your one chance slipped away from you and you let it. Some, without even intending to, show you they are not him. They do something bad, something wrong, something you know your boy would never do. It disgusts you to watch. It makes you miss him even more, whoever he is.

They think you’ve gone mad, that you dreamt about him and now you’re following a figment of your imagination. Friends try to be supportive. They try to look on the bright side, they try to joke that one day they might find this mysterious love like you have. They tease you in the only way they can, as a means of expressing their affection, but it can’t fix the shame and embarrassment that spreads across your inside like a plague. Family brush it off as unrequited love, a crush you had you can’t seem to get over. They point out anyone who fits his description, laughing, trying to get a reaction out of you. It’s no use. Maybe you shouldn’t have told anyone. Maybe you should give up. How many times have you tried? Something, someone, always brings you back. A phrase you know he used to say, a song or movie he liked, it pulls you back in every time. Libraries, malls, stores, and movies. You have looked everywhere, you have asked everyone. No one knows who you’re talking about. No one understands this gnawing feeling in your bones that’s telling you you’re so close, but so far away.

He used to be one of you. The suit, the gadgets, the blood. You remember him in the way your body aches, in the tears you have yet to sew up in your suit, in all the names you’d tried out before deciding on one officially. The only person who understood your double life. Your pride, your envy, your anger. The one who could laugh with you, and at you, when you tried to be something, someone, you weren’t. Neither of you were big heroes yet, but you wanted to be. You would be. For now, the neighborhood. In the future, the world. No one knew this, though. No one knew who you were when you put on the mask, no one but him. You’d sit on the bridge together, watch over all the cars, waiting for something. You faced danger together, life and death, but it’s all so muddied. Hazy. as if it had all been a dream. Anything, to happen. The pit of your stomach relieves it every time you think of him; something horrible happened, to him, to you, and because of it, you can’t remember. It’s the only sensible conclusion you’ve come to. It’s the only one that holds weight to it. Your boy was there. He was there, and he was real, and he was a hero. So why isn’t he here now? Why can’t you find him? When did the skyline start to feel so empty?

He never wanted this. He tried so hard to keep it the way it was, to prevent this very reality from coming true. In the end, it was better for everyone if the whole world forgot who Peter Parker was. It took some trial and error. It killed him to do it, but he had to. You, MJ, Ned, you all deserved better. So, he said his goodbyes. He wrote these long, detailed letters, intending to read them off to you one by one, to try to get back what you had, but when he saw them, his best friends, they were so happy. What kind of person would he be if he ruined that for them? It wasn’t right. He smiled, he grit his teeth, he made out the door without letting them notice he was crying. He’s tried to face you, to want to explain, but nothing ever sounds right. There’s nothing he could say or do to explain all those moments you had together. Even when he's Spiderman he keeps his distance. He goes to all the places you used to, he watches you when you’re up there, wondering if you know, if you could ever understand what you lost. He says nothing. He moves on. He lives his life, tries to get by, tries not to drown in all the possible what if’s. He does his best, all while carrying the memories of an entire lifetime of friendship, of something more. Someone had to. He understands this is his burden to carry.

You spot him one day. Somewhere innocuous, somewhere you never gave a second thought about. Somewhere you never expected. You’ve given up. Another failure. How much longer can you keep going on like this? How much longer can you search? He is always there. There is always someone who could be him, who wants to be him. It’s no use. You want to call it quits, you want to focus on the real world, a place you haven’t really been living in these past few months. That’s when he shows up. Close enough to see, to recognize, too far away to reach out to, to grab, to see if he’s real. You stare at him, wide eyed, and he looks back. For a moment, you feel like you’re dreaming. The excitement, the joy pulsing, it’s unbelievable. You swear you catch him smile, if only a moment, before he realizes what he’s done. He drops it, as if it’s a mistake, turning away. He’s too fast. It’s too late. It’s always too late. He’s gone. Disappeared. Wherever he went, wherever he came from, you need to find out. You need him. You have a feeling he needs you, too.

He recognized you. He knows you. He knows what’s going on.

It’s all the proof you need.

[xycuro-illuminati]

Why do you dislike the way mcu fans portray fratt, I'm assuming you don't completely hate the ship but hate the portrayal by most fans.

I've answered this before in a few details in asks here and here but I will continue them with more info on this ask: Fratt was originally p niche in terms of mlm pairings for Matt, but unfortunately as more m/cu fans got into it, they began writing horrid fanfics including them either being extremely abusive, abo shit, ooc hell where it reads like the authors have never watched the show and only took context from gifsets of the netflix show on tumblr, to straight up ableism in terms of how they portray Matt in these stories. A lot of the good fratt writers I enjoyed have moved on from the pairing so it's just a cesspool at this point (I don't check the tag anymore but unfortunately, some of them add the daredevil comics tag and it'll sometimes show up). This goes for m/cu dd fans in general, bc the type of woobification and ableism stretches over to the m/cu mattfoggy fandom and other pairings. However, in my experience, it's so much worse with fratt. I don't see this type of portrayal when it comes to pairing Frank with other male characters, it's only when he's paired off with Matt. Examples of this type of ableism is def how fratt fanfic writers love to portray Matt as the helpless blind man that cries and whines about everything and he needs big strong Frank to be there and take care of him despite the fact that he's a grown man who is able to take care of himself. A lot of caretaker fetishes as well since they love to imply that Matt is significantly younger than Frank despite their age gap not being that huge both in the show and the comics (both of these men are in their 40s/50s) and this goes hand in hand with the infantalization. M/cu fratt fans also love to use the terms top and bottom as if they were secondary gender norms bc I've seen too many where Matt is written as the "woman" of the pairing, which is not only homophobic but ableist as well. M/cu dd fans also believe that the whole dynamic that Daredevil and Punisher has an extremely black and white in terms of their morality when it's a lot more gray than that. A lot of Catholic™ Matt Murdock tags used to the point of ooc both in terms of the show and comics which is just overall super annoying to read, especially when making some type of conflict with Frank. It literally feels like I'm reading the current dd run written by Zdarsky which btw is Not Good in terms of how he's writing Matt as a character.

Not only that, m/cu fratt fans literally write about the same fucking thing over and over again. It's either a season 2 rewrite but Frank patches up Matt, throw in some Catholic shit and ooc talk about redemption, and then they fuck. Or it's just porn with no plot. I've also seen horrible takes on the tumblr tag ranging from "Matt and Frank would adopt Peter and hang out with Tony Stank" to "Matt is in love with Frank bc he reminds him of his father/kinda looks like him too bc daddy issues 😍" to someone straight up suggesting that there should be more fics of the REAL LIFE ACTORS being together, and so many more. A lot of them def taking the whole top/bottom thing as if those are personality traits and more posts that infantalize Matt. Not only that, a majority of fratt fans are just gross in general and I don't want to interact with them overall. It's thanks to what the fratt fandom has turned into that I no longer enjoy the pairing and I'm now starting to hate it as a whole. It's no wonder why comic dd fans call it the gay ship for straight people. Looking through the fratt tag anywhere now will give you psychic damage from all the nonsensical garbage there is. If you still enjoy this pairing, then okay, good for you ig. But don't expect me to make more content for it anytime soon and I will not pull back any punches on my honest opinions about it, especially the opinions I have towards certain fans. Sorry for this super long answer, anon, but hopefully I got out all of my gripes with the pairing and how its on par with how I feel about m/cu dd fans overall too.

[birlwrites]

prev corruption commenter here. i think the way people weigh different things in a narrative is part of what makes reading and writing enjoyable, so i enjoyed your analysis. i guess for me, corruption doesn't necessary need to be overt? or even a matter of good/bad? it could be a new point of view or a major internal shift of priorities? in james' case i think he would be very concerned that sirius, who has already been through so much, continues to suffer, and james is not there for him (1/2)

and i think that he's the kind of person who would make a promise to himself when his family took sirius in. being unable to keep internal vows and feeling helpless can make/break a person in the most interesting ways. i think it might make him implacable, which i think can be a very disconcerting thing. when violence is normalized, witnessing unmovable conviction in face of it might be scarier/unfathomable. what would james be personally willing to give up? what would he go through? 2/2

-

huh interesting - for me, corruption arcs definitely carry with them a sense of being overt (because i usually think of them as including a rejection of something the character had previously been a part of), but i think that's also partly due to my taste in stories in general (and the phrasing of that hero corruption post definitely makes me think 'villain arc' in particular, which is a very specific type of corruption, although one that receives a lot of visibility)

i'm super curious about what you mean by james being implacable - if you get a chance to expand on what you think that would look like/how it would manifest i'd love to know!

looking at it the way that you're describing it, i TOTALLY see what you mean about the new point of view - i feel like that would be almost obligatory, knowing that everything that james and sirius are willing to put on the line for dumbledore (AND PETER) isn't really reciprocated

and also i feel like james having that room to. re-analyze? what he actually thinks? would just be really interesting in general. the way i view him, he's gotten a lot of very particular messaging about what's good and what's bad and how to be a good person/what makes you a good person and what 'trying to do the right thing' means. and ngl i think he's largely just swallowed that hook line and sinker, and i think it would be super interesting to have him look at it again and like... stumble through figuring out his own system and his own definitions

even if james HADN'T made some sort of internal vow when sirius moved in with him, i think he'd definitely have some sense of 'sirius is safe now,' and that would be overturned

i also think it's interesting to make him confront the idea that not everyone he has placed his trust in is in fact trustworthy (at least, not with regard to him). some people would react to that by deciding not to trust anyone, and i think that even if james had a sort of knee-jerk initial response in that direction, it wouldn't be his permanent way of addressing the possibility of betrayal (even if the betrayal is in the form of not attempting to help, rather than actively harming)

questions of trust are really interesting to me and i think it would be FASCINATING if james like. knew what peter would do (not necessarily due to seeing the future - maybe just due to figuring out that he was the spy), BEFORE peter had actually told voldemort where to find the potters

i think james finding this out before the fidelius and after the fidelius have two very different connotations (and there's also the question of *when* peter became a death eater spy - before or after he became the potters' secret-keeper?)

and so just like how james would respond to that would be super interesting imo

the OTHER thing with regard to sirius is that like - i feel like james and sirius would have kind of different responses to learning about sirius's (canon) fate? so assuming james was the only one who found out, he'd have to make decisions about who to tell, and THAT would be interesting

yeah overall i think we're on the same page about james undergoing some pretty big changes in light of knowing what happens to sirius after his death - the only real difference is that i'm not sure *i'd* call that a corruption arc in general, although i think certain ways of doing it would fit my mental model of one. labels are just labels though

[kyber-crystal]

➳ good enough || s.r.

summary: after a long week you’re left completely exhausted. steve comforts you and helps you unwind. 

words: ~1.6k 

warnings: slight mentions of violence, angst, angst-to-fluff, a lil friends-to-lovers (i’m SORRY literally all of my oneshots are some variation of this but i just can’t resist), minor age gap? (if you call 5 years a lot). also civil war happened but they resolved it so 2017 au teeheeeeee

a/n: this sucked omg. why is my writing going downhill. also this is a red-room-turned-agent-reader who helped steve adjust when he came out of the ice bc i love cliche love backstories hehe...i tried to be very descriptive here but that failed oops. this is prolly one of my worst fics ever (it’s unedited) but my other one got deleted so i’m uploading this in its place!

Steve knew something was wrong the minute you came back from your mission. You always acted a bit off the first few days following your return, but for some reason, today seemed different. For the past week you'd been blatantly avoiding his gaze, refusing to meet his eye unless forced to. 

You don’t even return Sam and Bucky’s sarcastic one-liners - and you always make sure to send a cheesy joke right back at them. It’s not typical for you to be so quiet and reserved like this; frankly, it scared him. 

He knows that as a former Red Room assassin, you never had it easy. As the youngest of the twenty-eight dancer-disguised warriors, you were merely eight years old when you were admitted (Natasha was thirteen). At eight, there was much you didn’t know. You were naive, easily shaped to conform to the strict rules they’d set out for you. 

But despite all the hell you’d gone through in the past, you managed to find it in your heart to forgive and create a compassionate nature towards others. Especially him. He always wondered what he deserved to get someone like you-- he felt more than lucky to have you in his life.

It was 4 a.m, and his insomnia was at its worst. It had peaked ever since he’d come out of the ice - he was 27, had so much of his life before him before it was abruptly put to a stop. But then he met you, with your warm eyes and kind smile that was such a sharp contrast to the girl you used to be. 

The sound of muffled shouts coming from across the compound makes him look up - he sets down his mug of coffee and immediately heads down the hall to see what’s going on. 

Steve carefully pushed open the glass doors to the training facility, seeing you standing in front of a punching bag and attacking the hell out of it with an almost murderous look in your eyes - one he’d never seen before. The tape around your knuckles were splattered with your crimson blood. Despite the dim lighting, he could see the outlines of fresh bruises all over your arms and shoulders. The sight made bile rise up in his throat. He felt his heart break.

Every heavy blow of your fists was accompanied by a ground-shaking boom that echoed across the gym, unleashing the monster trapped inside. You pick up the pace and increase your speed, channelling all your pent-up anger and frustration and guilt into what you were doing. 

It hurts. You would give anything to get rid of the pain. It hurts like hell, but you would trade living a regret-ridden life for a guilt-free one in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Besides, you’ve experienced far worse before-- six-inch knife wounds, bullets to the abdomen and upper arms, broken ribs and noses. This should be a walk in the park.

The concerned super-soldier stood several feet away and observed you, silently watching you murdering the poor punching bag that’s barely withholding all the fury you’ve poured into pummeling it; it was about to burst at the seams.

“Y/N.” You didn’t hear him and kept going, so he repeated himself again. “Y/N.”

“What?” you snapped, keeping your gaze trained in front of you. “What the hell do you want?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s late. What’s keeping you up at this hour?”

“Nothing,” you replied plainly, but he caught the brief flash of a grief-stricken look cross over your expression and your eyes glaze over, “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“You clearly aren’t. Y/N, talk to me. Please.”

“I told you, I’m,” you increased the force of your fists with each word you spoke, as you felt your eyes stinging, “just, fine!”

“Y/N...” he whispered, so softly, as if he was afraid he’d break you with a single sentence. 

That was the last straw. The tears spilled over. Your vision began to blur as you didn’t even bother to wipe them away. The broad-shouldered super-soldier, your fists, and the punching bag and everything insight are turned into blurry, shapeless blobs. You try blinking them away but it was no use; but you keep going. 

“Please tell me what’s going on. Tell me what’s wrong...please don’t shut me out. I only want to help.”

“Leave me alone,” you repeated with a growl, arms now aching with the pain of a thousand tiny needles. But he doesn’t, and he stays firmly rooted in his place. You hastily wiped at your nose with your hands. “For gods’ sake, Rogers, leave,” smack “me,” smack “alone.”

Your last punch was so hard the walls shook and caused Steve to take a step back in alarm. But after that, all the fight is gone from you. Your knees buckle from underneath you and your shoulders slump in defeat and you crumble to the floor. A sound so raw and hoarse escapes your lips and it sounds nothing near human. 

The metallic scent of blood mixed with your salty tears and sweat overwhelms your senses and makes your head spin. Suddenly the act of taking in a single breath seems impossible and your chest tightens, preventing you from being able to breathe properly. 

The ever-so-fragile wall that had been struggling to hold your tears at bay finally broke. 

Heaving, wrenching sobs clawed their way up your throat and tore through your already weary heart - escaping in broken, agonized cries and heart-wrenching howls that make Steve feel like his heart is deliberately shattering into a million, tiny fragments of glass. He doesn’t know what to do because for the first time in his life, the woman he’s always seen with her head held high and an unmatched confidence that could almost put the President to shame was vulnerable, letting it all out at once. 

Steve doesn’t ask any questions nor does he push to to speak up, but silently comes over to you and wraps you into a tight hug, cradling you against his chest. Your arms find their way around his torso, pressing your forehead against the soft cotton of his T-shirt as his free hand makes a gentle trek up and down your back. 

As if you were a delicate flower, he carefully brought your head closer and pressed a kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger for a second longer than normal to reassure you. To reassure you that everything would in fact, be okay. Because he was there.

“Don’t leave me...please don’t leave me,” you choked out as he tightened his hold on you. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t, darling, I promise,” he cooed, lips brushing against your forehead, “it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay, we’re okay. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Then, the suffocating pressure is eased off your chest, little by little. You began sinking into the comfort of his warm arms and soothing words. And with his reminder that you didn’t have to go through hell and back alone, because he’d be there, you began to heal. 

...

ONE YEAR LATER

“...Joining the Avengers has been one hell of a ride. I went through hell and back, had my fair share of ups and downs and fought in countless wars. But along the way I’ve been blessed with the privilege of getting a built-in second family and making some of the best friends I’ve had in my life. I met my soulmate.” Steve gazed down at you warmly as you spoke, “I honestly had no idea things would ever work out like this but now, I can’t imagine a life without knowing who all these amazing people are.

“It’s been 15 months since the day he saved me.” Everyone immediately fell silent. "I had hit a very, very low point in my life and I was just about ready to give up. It was like I was screaming into a void and nobody was there to catch me when I fell. I felt so helpless and lost. Stuck. If Steve hadn’t come along at the time he did...I don’t know what would’ve have happened instead. So, Steve...I want to thank you...for everything. I can’t even begin to list all the things you’ve sacrificed or done for my sake and I owe you. From this point forward I promise to always stick by your side no matter how rough things get. I promise to love you at your best and your worst; whenever you need me I’ll always be here. No amount of anything I do will ever match what you’ve done, but I can promise you this: I’ll love you until the day I die, ‘til death do us part.

“’Till death do us part,” Steve repeated, smiling through the tears in his eyes. “God, I love you.”

You broke into a gorgeous grin that had him weak at the knees.  “I love you too.”

“The rings, please,” Fury nodded over in Peter’s direction, and the teenager handed them over to the two of you. “Agent Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Captain Steven Grant Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you said softly, as you put on Steve’s ring.

He turned to the super-soldier. “And Captain Steven Grant Rogers, do you take Agent Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Steve took your hand in his and slid the diamond ring over your finger, “I do.”

“Very well, then,” Fury smiled widely, a rare sight. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Steve rushed forward and pulled you close, dipping you down low before bringing you back up and kissing you passionately. 

His warm lips serving as a reminder of all that you still had left to live for, that you had so much of your life ahead of you. A life with him.

...

general tags(this is from my old taglist spreadsheet, including mutuals who might be interested): @rynhaswritersblock @purpleskiesstorm @pies-writes-and-more @wxstedhexrt @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @patzammit @capcapcapsicle @wheresmyjae @thinkingofbuckybarnes @carryonmywaywardbucky @musicalkeys @buckybarnesthehotshot @tombob2005 @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sylvie-writes @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild​ @sunstalgia​

steve rogers/chris evans tags: @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @stainedsouvenir @marvelfanatic16

permanent tags<3: @poesflygirl @sandwitch-god

[keepyourlife]

What fics do you like/read/recommend?

Difficult question, cause recommendations I can give but only very limited.

What I like? Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, damn it I also read Smut sometimes, AUs (I mention something about that later). Basically: I want to suffer, I want to cry, but give me a happy ending. I LOVE good interpreted characters and I LOOOVE well-written relations. What I mean by that is, basically, if a sibling relationship is weirdly written, I tend to just.. not read the story at all. Does that make sense? Whatever.

While I read a lot, I rarely save what I read and more often than not I kind of.. lose half of the fics I read? There’s one I am currently obsessed with, which I found via @worstloki:

doubt truth to be a liar. absolutely amazing tbh. it’s about a younger Loki suddenly appearing in the Avengers Tower, without any memories about what happened (post Ragnarok), it’s got trans Peter & cultural differences between Asgard and Midgard I find quite interesting. Cause while I do know that comic Loki mentioned that the concept of gender and sexuality do not exist in Asgard the way they do on Midgard (I think that is what he said), I found the differences portrayed in that story very believable and also super interesting, cause I didn’t think of that? Especially interesting when you know a bit about the Viking age and its culture, which MCU Asgard clearly was set to resemble.

So, next I need to put a little disclaimer about myself: I normally do not like Reader fics, because more often than not they’re super ooc and I just find this whole.. “y/n” thing kind of offputting and it just makes me uninterested very often. However I have a friend who do likes these kind of stories. And she lets me know. And she needs someone to talk about these stories, so there’s that. And I read a handfull of them and tbh only those I actually find 1. well-written, 2. well characterised & 3. no darn use of “y/n”, cause no I never imagine myself there, I create characters in my head for each story.

A Job Million PRs Would Die For by @saiansha. Jesus fucking christ the amount of times I re-read this story. Honestly, it is, I think, the first Reader fanfic I read in my entire life, was super weary at first cause. idk. I know some people on this website (and AO3, let’s be real) that just post very weird stuff. This one has an interpretation of Loki that I can 100% believe and it is one I support. That was one of my main reasons to continue reading, but it’s also the general writing style that I like and that there’s a Reader character, who is not a helpless damsel in distress. Ultimate proof of that was the most recent chapter. (dear author knows my thoughts, I dared to dm cause I was just. very enthuasiastic about this story)

Broken Crown by @michelleleahhh​. Second one I started reading at one point cause my friend kept asking me to read it. a kind-of AU? It’s set in Asgard. That’s what you need to know. Again, a story that had me from the beginning, once I started. For the writing style and for the characterisation. The story really had me guessing sometimes, cause,, well-written! and really good dialogue!! damn you Freya!! and a decent Reader character that doesn’t have me ripping out my own intestines. (also very enthusiastic about this story, yes this phrasing as a meaning)

Foruneyti by Evaldrynn or @foruneyti (I tagged the blog for the story here, too, don’t mind me pls) Also kind of an AU, basically just Asgard. Anyway, I am so in love with the aesthetic this story gives me. It’s hard to explain, but after 85 chapters I just have this very clear picture in my head of what I think this story looks like. Now, Reader here is also good and well-written, the Original Characters are likeable and not super overpowered, neither is Reader. The canon characters are, in my humble opinion, interpreted nicely and tbh for some reason I just always imagine them in this comic style, rather than the way the films portray them.

Of Different Emotions by @wanderingworldwarrior. my. goodness. I am in love with these stories and I am just. so desperate for an update. idk if we will ever get one, but honestly, I re-read it this week and. Just stopped after the second part, cause I can’t deal with the pain of the third part one more time. First part is set pre-Thor 1, second part is set during Thor 1 and the third during The Avengers. I love the Reader character a lot and the Original Characters just. belong so much to the story. idk I just love the way this story is written, I love the characters, I just love it a lot, alright.

Onwards to anime. Bungou Stray Dogs:

where your loyalties lie by writingfromtheshadows. this!! story!! it’s so good!! it’s a Yakuza!AU and oh my gooood. It’s all just so so well put, compared to canon and I love the dynamics Dazai and Chuuya have here.

Forgettable Significance by Witheryvine. THIS STORY. took my sanity, threw it out of the window and then spat on me. It broke my heart so very often, cause it manages to make you question yourself. morals about relationships out of the window. I re-read this story like five times.

still still still by toriosaurus. I was waiting, desperately, for every single chapter. This AU gives me everything I need and more. I remember doing fanart for this story and being very proud of it, even though it did no justice to the original story. Normally I am not a fan of, idk what to call it, no power AUs because most people just do the thing wrong for me. But this one hits.

If I recommend Twist and Shout now I get thrown into Turbohell, so idk if you want a very sinful Destiel fanfic, then read

Hot Water by Chiyume. I was 16, I decided to read Destiel fanfictions and this one kind of did it for me.

Don’t @ me. I really read a lot more than this, but I suck at organising myself and I just barely ever save shit. Also it’s late, I’ve been on a video call with my friend for over three hours now and I just like to clown when I am tired. Anyway, I used to bookmark Destiel fanfics back in the day and the rest is just. Read it, kudos, comment, and then I forget to save. The multichapter fics are often still in my subscribes, but sometimes. just.. not.

[aion-rsa]

How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling

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J.J. Abrams’ spy drama Alias, which turns 20 this week, was a lot of things: high-octane action-adventure series, twentysomethings relationship drama, occasional National Treasure homage. It was also, surprisingly, a spiritual predecessor to today’s hyper-saturated superhero movie and TV universes: A preternaturally gifted fighter, Sydney Bristow (Jennifer Garner) inhabits comic-book-esque alter egos to infiltrate secret missions related to ancient artifacts and promised immortality, all while ensuring that her nearest and dearest don’t know how many times she’s saved the world—or which side she’s really on.

Like the series’ MacGuffin-generating Nostradamus figure Milo Rambaldi, Alias has proven to be somewhat prophetic itself about what makes for the kinds of superhero stories that land today. With some 20th-anniversary hindsight, let’s look back at what made Sydney’s story so super and what lessons Abrams’ ridiculous(ly fun) series can still impart to the current crop of superhero sagas.

The Secret Identity as Kiss of Death

The highest priority that spies and superheroes share is that they cannot get made—that is, have their identity as a larger-than-life individual linked to their “normal” selves. They must always keep their personal and professional personas separate, lest they risk losing the people who know both sides of them. Alias establishes this difficult lesson in the first half hour of the pilot, when Sydney reveals her true work (she thinks SD-6 is just a covert branch of the CIA) to doctor fiancé Danny, only for him to blab about it later and get bloodily taken out in their bathtub. It’s the first time that SD-6 treats its sweet protégée harshly, making clear the consequences of her actions should she open up to anyone else in her life. And then she defects to the CIA, which will be a death sentence for her if SD-6 ever finds out.

Yet beyond the specter of grisly assassination, what the series really digs into is Syd’s growing ethical dilemma about being a double agent where it concerns the actually good people at SD-6, primarily her longtime partner Dixon (Carl Lumbly) and sweetly awkward Q stand-in Marshall (Kevin Weisman). It would be too easy if the series were only about her getting long-game revenge on SD-6 director Arvin Sloane (Ron Rifkin); the real conflict comes from Sydney lying to Dixon’s face on every stakeout, knowing that he still thinks he’s working for the good guys and she can’t ruin that fantasy for him without potentially turning him into collateral damage.

Similarly, the moments in which Sydney’s two (or three) lives begin to collide have other heartbreaking consequences: While the scene in which her best friend Will (Bradley Cooper cast as the friendzoned buddy, amazing) gets kidnapped and sees Syd saving him, is one of the decade’s best laugh-out-loud moments, it also leads to Will going into the Witness Protection Program. His life ends, in a sense, because Sydney couldn’t keep everything compartmentalized. And we haven’t even gotten to the awful fate that befalls her best friend Francie (Merrin Dungey)…

What Alias Predicted: The beating heart (or arc reactor) of many a superhero story is this tension between selves—which means that the big reveal of a secret identity has to be carefully timed and deliberately presented. It’s as emotional as Peter Parker’s (Tobey Maguire) mask getting ripped away when he saves the subway car of people in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2, as big as Spider-Man: Far From Home doxxing that Peter Parker (Tom Holland) in a commentary on fake news, or as pure and simple as Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) outing himself as Iron Man in the very first installment of the MCU. You cannot unring that bell, so it better be a memorable moment.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Rev the secret identity stakes back up! Captain America: Civil War ably took on the game-changing Marvel Comics arc of the same name by having heroes collectively unmask, and movies like Spider-Man: Far From Home are still playing out those ramifications. But mostly we see the dangerous ramifications of heroes doxxing themselves, without really digging into the strain for heroes to constantly have to lie about the things that truly matter to them.

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Campy Disguises and Clever Aliases

If you’ve watched Alias or were even vaguely aware of it, no doubt the first thing you envision is Sydney in black leather and bright red hair, a.k.a. her iconic look from the pilot. Her non-SD-6-sanctioned, under-the-radar disguise (impersonating Will’s sister) displays her ingenuity and establishes the series’ brand: attention-grabbing hair paired with increasingly ridiculous outfits, from chain mail waitress ensembles to rubber dresses. She’s played punks, rich bimbos, alluring businesswomen, escorts, and all manner of female personas upon which her marks would project their assumptions—all of which belied her true strength and cunning.

Even when future episodes riffed on the color wheel with teal, magenta, purple, and good old-fashioned blonde wigs, it was still within a clear spectrum established on that pivotal mission, when she channels a silly girl who cares more about the color of her hair than her safety, only to pin her torturer with the same chair to which she’s bound.

What Alias Predicted: I would hazard a guess that Natasha Romanoff’s first appearance in 2012’s The Avengers—a seemingly helpless redhead tied to a chair, about to be nastily interrogated—was a nod toward Sydney’s triumphant pilot mission. What’s more, despite the first ten years of the MCU leaning toward sleek costumes, later phases (like WandaVision‘s cheeky Halloween callbacks) have realized that they can embrace the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Better to lean into the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material than to go for more sleek and cool. WandaVision did this, albeit cheekily and using the excuse of Halloween, but the nod toward Scarlet Witch’s original outfit was well received. Because any superhero can look cool in leather, but only the standouts can rock color.

Rambaldi Artifacts, Immortality, and Clones

While replicating the romantic dramas of Felicity, Abrams was also playing with early iterations of his signature “puzzle box” narrative style: The pilot has Sydney chasing after the mysterious Mueller device, which turns out to be… a floating red ball… which bursts into water the moment she tries to remove it. That head-scratcher of a device is only one of many inventions belonging to Milo Rambaldi, a fictional Renaissance-era philosopher whose sketches and writings all pointed toward the ultimate endgame: immortality. You know, just normal spy thriller things.

The series saw Sydney and co. chasing after all manner of Rambaldi MacGuffins, from a clock to a kaleidoscope to a music box to flowers that either demonstrated proof of eternal life (by never wilting) or amped up human aggression. Through all of this, it becomes clear that Sloane helped found SD-6 in order to collect all of Rambaldi’s artifacts and capture immortality for himself—even and especially at the cost of people like his daughter, Sydney’s half-sister Nadia Santos (Mía Maestro).

Before we get more into Rambaldi’s prophecies about the sisters, we can’t forget the parallel fever dream of the series: clones! Or, rather, secret agents genetically modified to look like anyone—which means everyone is a suspect. This constant paranoia quickly got out of hand on the series, but its first reveal was perfect TV drama: There’s not an Alias fan who doesn’t remember “Francie doesn’t like coffee ice cream” and the complete devastation that followed—the knock-down, drag-out fight that destroyed Sydney’s apartment just as badly as Danny’s death, but also Sydney’s heartbreak upon realizing that her best friend was already long dead.

What Alias Predicted: The Infinity Stones themselves are less interesting than in various superheroes’ personal connections to them: Loki (Tom Hiddleston) tempted by the tesseract in Thor: Ragnarok; Star Lord (Chris Pratt) and the Guardians of the Galaxy channeling their friendship to withstand the effects of the Power Stone; Wanda Maximoff’s (Elizabeth Olsen) stages of grief as she copes with trying to keep the memory of Vision (Paul Bettany) alive even without the Mind Stone. In short: grounding the most out-there plotlines in the personal ensures they will always land.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Ground the most bonkers of plotlines in the personal, and they’ll always land.

The Chosen One and the Passenger

This is when the Rambaldi business started getting less National Treasure levels of charming and more outright weird. Turns out the team wasn’t just recovering a treasure trove of artifacts, but also Rambaldi’s prophetic writings—including the mysterious “Page 47,” which featured a drawing of a woman known as the Chosen One… who bears quite the resemblance to Sydney herself. That would be easy enough to dismiss as a strange doppelgänger coincidence, but then comes the reveal of “Project Christmas”: When Syd discovers that she didn’t just stumble into the spy life on her own, but was actually trained as a sleeper agent from childhood, it only amplifies her fears that she has no true agency over her life.

Further Rambaldi writings center Sydney and Nadia into predestined roles as the Chosen One and the Passenger: supposed foes who are fated to clash, with one dying. Nadia getting injected with “Rambaldi fluid” in order to tap directly into the long-dead man’s consciousness (contained within another artifact known as the Sphere of Life) only earns her some nasty apocalyptic visions. But despite their genuine friendship that comes from bonding over their fucked-up childhoods, Sydney and Nadia are forced into that preordained confrontation when the latter is injected with a compound that reduces her to a mindless killing machine… all while a giant red ball is hovering over a city in Russia, because why not. Even after Nadia dies, and is brought back to life, then dies again, with her ghost haunting Sloane as he finally attains immortality, she remains a presence on the series.

There are certainly echoes to Black Widow and how it handles Natasha and adoptive sister Yelena’s (Florence Pugh) strained reconciliation after the older sister got out of the Red Room while the younger was still caught in its web. Their bickering banter about vests and poses, their differing memories of their false childhood, and their respective feelings of abandonment are what elevated Black Widow’s standalone outing—and made it even more tragic, on multiple levels, that this was the only time we would see the two of them in a movie together.

What Alias Predicted: Sister stories are gold! The Rambaldi storylines would mean nothing if they didn’t hinge on a tragically preordained confrontation, just as the MCU’s Red Room depiction seemed overdone until it was presented within the context of multiple generations’ differing experiences with its bloody legacy.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: More stories about sisters! With Nat dead not long after she and Yelena had just started to bond again, it’s vital that Yelena’s future MCU appearances show her still grappling with the little time they got together.

After all, the best superhero stories are the ones that can feel just as fresh now as they did 20 years ago.

Alias is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

The post How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[missingrobin]

Freaks (Peter Parker x Genderneutral!Reader)

Warnings: Fighting 

WC: 2628

Loosely based on: Freaks by surf curse  (I highly suggest you listen to it!!!)

A/N: I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long guys! I missed you so much and I’m back to writing more consistently. If you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them my way!

Masterlist

Your day started like any other, you rolled out of bed, got ready for your day, grabbed your bag and roamed to the nearest coffee shop. Still only half awake you ordered your tea  and sat outside at the table farthest from people possible. Birds chirped loudly and swarmed the pretty blue sky that rested above. You slurped your tea and checked your phone. You scrolled through Instagram looking at friends from high school and how they were doing in college. You felt a small wave of sadness wash over you as you thought about how you would be starting college  in the fall and how you would have to leave your family behind. Your eyes were constantly heavy and felt like the weight of the world was sitting on your face from worrying about school and life in general. Nothing had been the same since you started experiencing small changes in your body. Your head would be pounding and it would like you were being run over by a truck. Your hands would start changing faint colors of purple or blue when you weren’t even doing anything, and worst of all sometimes you would stand up and instantly black out.

You felt a dizzy spell coming on so you decided to walk back to your apartment. You walked slowly and hazily till you reached your door, but still the banging in your head wouldn’t stop. You stumbled inside and fell on your couch deciding to rest for a while.

Meanwhile at the avengers compound…

“Tony we’ve been tracking Y/n for 2 weeks already, we can’t just sit around and wait till they start attacking innocent civilians,” Steve said while resting his head in his hands from frustration. Nat walked in and heard all the commotion but decided to walk out before things got too ugly.

“Steve please shut it, I know but I don’t want to make the wrong move and get us all killed because you wanted to be impatient,” Tony rolled his eyes. Rhodey and Bucky sat at the kitchen table listening into one of Tony and Steve's many fights.

“Then what are we gonna do Tony!” Steve snapped at Tony. 

“We're gonna send the kid in to capture the other kid,” Tony smirked and did his I told you so face while the room got quiet. 

“Tony I’m not so sure about that, do you really think the kid could do all that?” Steve questioned with judgmental eyes. Rhodey and Bucky looked at each other and then looked away, everyone was completely lost in their thoughts questioning if this plan would work.

“Yes I’m sure,” Tony remarked after a few minutes. “It’s pretty hard to mess up a kidnapping when you’re an Avenger,” Tony pushed his glasses up to his face and everyone eyed each other looking for what to say. By this time Nat was back and decided to sit in the living room and listen in as to what was being talked about.

“Tony you’re helpless,” Steve stormed out of the room and decided to go train.

Tony rubbed his hands together and yelled at Friday. “Friday send Parker his assignment and tell him if he messes this up I’ll put a bomb in his suit. 

“Okay Mr. Stark your message was sent.”

Queens, New York(Peters bedroom)

“Yeah Ned, I told Flash not to eat Safeway sushi but do you think he’d actually listen to me.” Peter sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

A flash came out of his closet doors from his suit and he jumped up instantly. 

“Hey buddy I’ll call you back, Stark sent me a mission.” Peter squealed and jumped up and down like a little kid. 

Peter walked over to his suit and pressed the intercom. A hologram shot out and appeared right in front of Peter.

“Kid your mission is to go capture this mutant,” Tony held up a picture of you and Peter gawked and your beauty. “They’re highly dangerous and don’t know how to control their powers just yet but we’re capturing them to train them and recruit them for the avengers, Oh by the way they can control your mind and heal people with water so maybe try and get on their good side.” Tony smiled nervously and the hologram faded away.

“Fuck how do I always get left with the shittiest jobs possible,” Peter raked his hands through his hair and flopped dramatically on his bed. “I’m not so sure if it’s right just to go kidnap someone if I don’t even have a motive, I’m pretty sure that's illegal but I need to impress Mr. Stark.” Peter flopped on his bed and questioned whether he should or shouldn’t try and kidnap you.

After an hour of pure mind riddling thoughts Peter stood up and decided to get this over with. He pulled on his suit and shot out his window, he hesitantly followed the his built in GPS that led to your apartment.

When he arrived he tried to climb through the back window that led into your bathroom but missed and went through your bedroom window. He crept around slowly and tried to see if you were home. He checked your bathroom first, then your kitchen, then finally your living room. You rested uneasily on your couch tossing and turning almost every other minute. You spoke softly in your sleep and occasionally snored. 

“Well this wasn’t too hard,” Peter chuckled while  shooting a tranq dart at you. Too bad it wasn’t that easy for him though. You physically weren’t awake but your brain could sense if you were in danger at any time so your eyes shot open and you rolled off your couch before the dart could strike your skin. 

You rose and started floating. A thought popped in your head that you should throw him out a window and that you did. You flicked your hand softly to the left and Peter was sent flying out of your apartment. He crashed on the pavement and civilians screamed. You felt bad for flinging him out a window but it had to be done. Then you screamed.

“What the actual fuck, how’d I do that?” You looked down at your hands and flipped them over almost 20 times trying to find a logical explanation as to how you just threw some guy out a window. 

Something in your brain didn’t let your guard down just yet. There was still some type of danger around and you needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

You dashed out of your back door trying to avoid the street but you were met with Black Widow and Captain America. 

“Fuck,” you sighed in defeat while they both stunned you with electric pods. You passed out and hit the ground hard, fading off into another restless slumber.  

When you woke up you were in a metal room that had no doors or windows. It was cold and empty other than a metal chair that you were chained to. You slumped over into a proper position and tried to focus your eyes but you just couldn’t.

Outside the box

“Are they okay?” Peter questioned with sorry eyes. There were bruises all over his body and a small cut on his face. Peter pushed the hair out of his face and stared at his battered fingers.

“They’re fine kid, but why’re you so worried about them? Didn’t they throw you out a window or something?” Tony eyed Peter and waited for his answer but it never fully came. Just small stutters fell from Peters lips and confusing glances shot Tonys’ way.

“Ooooh I get it you think they’re attractive don’t you,” Tony raised his eyebrows and smirked while elbowing Peter in the side causing him to start coughing. “Shit sorry kid didn’t mean to kill you but at least my plan worked out,” 

Peter craned his neck around and his eyes shot open. “What do you mean your plan worked out Mr. Stark, I literally was thrown out a window.” Peters’ hands started getting hot and his heartbeat fastened. 

 “Kid keep up, out of all the Avengers I sent a literal child to go capture a super powerful mutant, why would a billionaire, playboy, genius do that when I knew that they could literally kill you. Hmmm let me think, I did that because I knew they wouldn’t see you as such a huge threat compared to Natasha or Bucky. Look I’m not saying that I don’t believe in you or that I think you couldn’t do it I’m just saying that I’m smart so I sent you in first. Then I let the adults handle it.” 

Peter pushed himself off the couch and stormed off to find where you were being held. Tony groaned knowing that he really just messed up. Peter wandered the hallways till he could find any clue as to where you were being held.

“Hey Bucky, can I pretty please ask you a super secret question?” Peter flashed puppy eyes at Bucky and did a tiny smile. 

“They’re being held in the basement by the gym, anything else?” Peter's jaw dropped instantly. 

“I- um how exactly did you know that I was going to ask that,” Peter nervously racked his hands through his hair and a faint tint of pink graced his cheeks. 

“I heard some of what Tony said and I know what it's like to be held captive by someone, so get them out of here kid. I know that we’re the avengers and all but we don’t have the right to make decisions for someone like that, Unless they’re actually trying to harm people and the only reason they harmed you was because you tried to capture them, and I’d do the exact same thing if I were them.” Bucky ran out of words to say and looked away. Slowly he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. 

Bucky and Peter were never really close so it baffled Peter that Bucky would go against Tonys’ orders to help someone he doesn’t even know, but Peter could see the pain in Buckys eyes when he talked about being held captive. Maybe this was the wrong choice and it  would cause a lot of tension between Tony and Peter but it was a risk that Peter was willing to take to do what is right. 

Peter stormed down to the Basement and eventually located the holding cells. They were in one long hallway that extended about 100 ft. The hallway was lined with cells that had  transparent barriers that would instantly burn anyone who tried to go through them. Peter searched every cell till he got the very last one which was a metal door that had no handle. 

Peter kicked the door and your head shot up instantly. You tried with all your might to shake out of the chains that bound you and your chair to the floor but it was no use. Panic filled your veins and your hands instantly started to sweat. Then suddenly you were met face to face with the most gorgeous boy you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi I’m Peter, Peter Parker,” the charming boy flashed you a bright smile and you looked at him shocked. 

“Um hi I’m Y/n nice to meet you I guess,” you smiled a warm smile but you were still hesitant of the stranger that stood in front of you.

Peter stood awkwardly still and stared at you like you were a shiny diamond. 

“So Peter, I’m guessing you didn’t kick a hole in that wall just to say hi, so what exactly do you want?” You straightened up in your chair and eyed Peters’ body, he wasn’t skinny or super buff but the perfect in between. He had the most perfect brown eyes and hair, and whenever he didn’t know what to do with himself  he racked his hands through his hair. 

“Oh right I’m here to save you Y/n,” Peter smiled warmly 

“Well what the hell are you waiting for,”  you giggled softly. Peter rushed forward and ripped the chains that attached you to the floor right out like they were merely plastic. You stretched your arms and legs but you nearly tumbled over from not walking for a few hours. 

You and Peter rushed out of the metal room and tried to weasel your way out of the compound. You snuck around corners and hid by houseplants trying your best not to be spotted. When you finally got out of the compound you didn’t know what exactly to do. Your head was spinning from all the crazy shit that happened today. You were kidnapped by the Avengers, then unkidnapped by the Avengers. You felt like you might explode. 

“Okay Peter, I need answers right now, Who the fuck are you really? Why did you help my escape and how did you even know where I was in the first place?” Wrapped your arms around your torso, taking a step back from peter.

 The sun was finally starting to set and the cities’ lights started shining in the sky. 

“Okay first things first, I’m Spiderman and I know you might hate me a ton for attempting to kidnap you butttt I was just trying to win Mr. Stark's approval because I kinda care about what he thinks of me, and I knew where you were because Bucky told me where to find you. Oh shoot you know Bucky right,” You shook your head super confused. “Okay so Bucky is the Winter Soldier, and he wanted me to help yo-”

“Okay Spider boy slow down, I get the most important parts,” You were still quite confused as to why Peter would break the trust of someone he cares about the most just to save you. 

“So why did you betray Stark, you barely even know me,” you sighed softly waiting for Peters’ response. 

“I saved you because before you threw me out your window the look in your eye made me believe that you didn’t actually want to hurt me but you were just scared like I was, and I couldn’t just sit by while you were being held prisoner for no apparent reason that’s totally against my morals,” Peter flashed a quick smile and you could tell in your heart that he was one of the most genuine people in the entire universe. He wasn’t lying at all about anything  that he just said and he was actually worried about what would happen to you if he didn’t step in. 

“Thank you Peter, that’s definitely one of the kindest things anyone’s ever done for me. I just don’t understand what's going on with me, I’ve never thrown anyone out a window before and I keep getting weird feelings everyday. My life is just really going downhill,”  You found your way to a park bench and decided to sit for a second, Peter joined you.

“Hey Y/n we’ll figure out what's going on with you and I promise to keep you safe, I’m pretty sure this super shitty traumatic event at least ended with a friendship right.” You laughed calmly and soon Peter joined in. “Yeah this definitely bonded us for life Peter.” You both stared at the stars that now fell all over New York. They shined so bright that you almost forgot about all the shit you just went through together. In that moment it was just you and him. All the buildings and commotion faded away and the sky became your home.

The comfortable silence was ended by you softly. “So Peter what exactly do we do now?” you questioned sending a slight shiver down your back. 

“ Now we try to hide you from the Avengers.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this story and If you’d like a Part 2 please comment below!  

Have a great day, see you soon <3

[brianwilly]

Game of Thrones did the thing that a couple of shows do where...it likes feminism.  It understood that feminism is important.  It wanted to be feminist.  It was cognizant of the fact that its setting was brazenly and intentionally misogynistic, and so it was even more important for its independent narrative to empower its female characters instead of mindlessly reinforcing the toxic beliefs of its own fictional world.  The whole point of the story, after all, was “this society is toxic, can our heroes survive it?” and so the narrative was voluntarily self-critical.

And so it knew to give us badass assassin Arya.  It knew to give us stalwart knight Brienne.  It gave us the pirate queen and the dragon queen and the Sansa getting revenge after revenge upon all the men who’d wronged her, and far more besides, and it talked big about breaking chains and how much men fucked things up and how great it would be if only women were in charge and et cetera et cetera.  And it’s, in fact, all actually really good that it had those things.  And because there were so very many moving parts of this story, it was super easy to look at those certain moving parts and think, yeah, they’ve done it!  They done good!

And it’s easy to forget and forgive -- to want to forget and forgive -- all the dead prostitutes that were on this show and the rapes used as motivation and fridgings and objectifications and the...y’know, whatever the hell Dorne was and Lady Stoneheart who? It’s easy to forget that this show actually played its hand a long time ago in regards to, like, what its relationship with feminism was going to be, and then kept playing the same hand again and again, to disappointing results.

Game of Thrones likes feminism.  It wanted to be feminist.  But its relationship with feminism was still predicated on some of the same old narratives and the same old storytelling trends that have disempowered female characters in the past, and so any progressive ideas it might have about women in its setting were nonetheless going to be constrained by those old fetters. As a result, its portrayal of women varied anywhere from glorious to admirable to predictable to downright cringeworthy.

New ideas require new vessels, new stories, in which to house them.  And for Game of Thrones, the ultimate story that it wanted to tell -- the ultimate driving force and thesis statement around which it was basing its entire journey and narrative -- was unfortunately a very old one, and one very familiar to the genre.

“Powerful women are scary.”

(Yes, I’m obviously making Yet Another Daenerys Essay On The Internet here)

So we have this character, this girl really, a slave girl who was sold and abused, and then she overcomes that abuse to gain power, she gains dragons, and she uses that power to fight slavery.  She fights slavery really well, like, she’s super hella good at it.  Her command of dragons is the most overt portrayal of “superpowers” in this world; she is the single most powerful person in this story, more powerful than any other character and the contest is not close.

But then...something really bad happens and oops, she gets really emotional about it and then she’s not fighting slavery anymore...she’s kinda doing the opposite!  This girl who was once a hero and a liberator of slaves instead becomes an out-of-control scary Mad Queen who kills a ton of innocent people and has to be taken down by our true heroes for the good of the world.

That’s the theme.  That’s the takeaway here.  That’s how it all ends, with one of the most primitive, archaic propaganda ever spread by writers, that women with power are frightening, they are crazy, they will use that power for ill.  Women with power are witches.  They are Amazons.  They will lop off our manhoods and make slaves of us.  They seduce our rightful kings and send our kingdoms to ruin.   They cannot control their emotions. They get hot flashes and start wars.  They turn into Dark Phoenixes and eat suns.  They are robot revolutionaries who will end humanity.  Powerful women are scary.

And let me emphasize that the theme here is not, in fact, that all power corrupts, because the whole Mad Queen concept for Daenerys actually ends up failing one of the more fundamental litmus tests available when it comes to representation of any kind: “would this story still happen if Dany was a man?” And the fact is that it would not.   And indeed we know this for a fact because “protagonist starts out virtuous, gains power in spite of the hardships set against him, gets corrupted by that power, and ends up being the bad guy” didn’t happen, and doesn’t happen, to the guys in the very same story that we’re examining.  It doesn’t happen to Jon Snow, Dany’s closest and most intentional narrative parallel.  It doesn’t happen to Bran Stark, a character whose entire journey is about how he embroils himself in wild dark winter magic beyond anyone’s understanding and loses his humanity in the process.  In fact, the only other character who ever got hinted of going “dark” because of the power that they’re obtaining is Arya, the girl who spent seven seasons training to fight, to become powerful, to circumvent the gender role she was saddled with in this world...and then being told at the end of her story, “Whoa hey slow down be careful there, you wouldn’t wanna get all emotional and become a bad person now wouldja?” by a man.

(meanwhile Sansa’s just sitting off in the side pouting or whatever ‘cuz her main arc this season was to, like, be annoyed at people really hard I guess)

‘Cuz that’s the danger with the girls and not the boys, ain’t it?  Arya and Jon are both great at killing people, but there is no Dark Jon story while we have to take extra special care to watch for Arya’s precious fragile humanity.  Dany has the power of dragons while Bran has the power of the old gods, but we will not find Dark Lord Bran, Soulless Scourge of Westeros, onscreen no matter how much sense it should make. “Power corrupts” is literally not a trend that afflicts male heroes on the same level that it afflicts female heroes.

Oh sure, there are corrupt male characters everywhere, tyrants and warlords and mafia bosses and drug dealers and so forth all over your TVs, and not even necessarily portrayed as outright villains; anti-heroes are nothing new.  But we’re talking about the hero hero here; the Harry Potters, the Luke Skywalkers, the Peter Parkers.  The Jon Snows.   They interact with corruptive power, yes; it’s an important aspect of their journeys.  But the key here being that male heroes would overcome that corruption and come through the other side better off for it.  They get to come away even more admirable for the power that they have in a way that is generally not afforded towards female heroes.

There are exceptions, of course; no trends are absolutely absolute one way or the other. For instance, the closest male parallel you’d find for the “being powerful is dangerous and will corrupt your noble heroic intentions” trope in popular media would be the character of Anakin Skywalker in the Star Wars prequel trilogy...ie, a preexisting character from a preexisting story where he was conceived as the villainous foil for the heroes.  Like, Anakin being a poor but kindhearted slave who eventually becomes seduced by the dark side certainly matches Dany’s arc, but it wasn’t the character’s original story and role.  And even then?...notice how Anakin as Vader the Dark Lord gets treated with the veneer of being “badass” and “cool” by the masses.  A male character with too much power -- even if it’s dark power, even if it’s corruptive -- has the range to be seen as something appealingly formidable, and not just as an obstacle that has to be dealt with or a cautionary tale to be pitied.

And in one of the few times that this trope was played completely straight, completely unironically with a male hero -- I’m thinking specifically of Hal Jordan the Green Lantern, of “Ryan Reynolds played him in the movie” fame -- the fans went berserk.  They could not let it go.  The fact that this character would go mad with power because a tragedy happened in his life was completely unacceptable, the story gained notoriety as a bad decision by clueless writers, and today the story in question has been retconned -- retroactively erased from continuity -- so that the character can be made heroic and virtuous again.  That’s how big a deal it was when a male hero with the tiniest bit of a fan following goes off the deep end.

To be clear, I’m not here to quibble over whether the story of Dany turning evil was good or bad, because we all know that’s going to be the de facto defense for this situation: “But she had to go mad!  It was for the sake of the story!“ as if the writers simply had no choice, they were helpless to the whims of the all-powerful Story God which dictates everything they write, and the most prominent female character of their series simply had to go bonkers and murder a bajillion babies and then get killed by her boyfriend or else the story just wouldn’t be good, y’know?  Ultimately though, that’s not what I’m arguing here, because it doesn’t actually matter.  There have been shitty stories about powerful women being bad.  There have been impressive stories about powerful women being bad.  Either way, the fact that people can’t seem to stop telling stories about powerful women being bad is a problem in and of itself.  Daenarys’ descent into Final Boss-dom could’ve been the most riveting, breathtaking, masterfully-written pieces of art ever and it’d still be just another instance of a female hero being unable to handle her power in a big long list of instances of this shitty trope.  The trope itself doesn’t become unshitty just because you write it well.

It all ultimately boils down to the very different ways that men and women -- that male heroes and female heroes -- continue to be portrayed in stories, and particularly in genre media.  In TV, we got Dany, and then we also have Dolores Abernathy in Westworld who was a gentle android that was abused and victimized for her entire existence, who shakes off the shackles of her programming to lead her race in revolution against their abusers...and then promptly becomes a ruthless maniac who ends up lobotomizing the love of her life and ends the season by voluntarily keeping a male android around to check her cruel impulses.  Comic book characters like Jean Grey and Wanda Maximoff are two of the most powerful people in their universe but are always, in-universe, made to feel guilty about their power and, non-diegetically, writers are always finding ways to disempower them because obviously they can’t be trusted with that much power and entire multiple sagas have been written about just how bad an idea it is for them to be so powerful because it’ll totally drive them crazy and cause them to kill everyone, obviously.  Meanwhile, a male comic character like Dr. Strange -- who can canonically destroy a planet by speaking Latin really hard -- or Black Bolt -- who can destroy a planet by speaking anything really hard -- will be just sitting there, two feet on the side, enjoying some tea and running the world or whatever because a male character having untold uninhibited power at his disposal is just accepted and laudable and gets him on those listicles where he fights Goku and stuff.

In my finite perspective, the sort of female heroes who have gained...not universal esteem, perhaps, but at least general benign acceptance amongst the genre community are characters who just don’t deal with all that stuff.  I’m thinking of recent superheroes like Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel, certainly, but also of surprise breakout hits like Stranger Things’ Eleven (so far) or even more niche characters like Sailor Moon or She-Ra.  The fact that these characters wield massive power is simply accepted as an unequivocal good thing, their power makes them powerful and impressive and that’s the end of the story, thanks for asking.  And when they deal with the inevitable tragedy that shakes their worldview to the core, or the inevitable villain trying to twist them into darkness, they tend to overcome that temptation and come out the other side even stronger than when they started.  In other words?...characters like these are being allowed the exact same sorts of narrative luxuries that are usually only afforded towards male heroes.

The thing about these characters, though, is that they tend to be...well, a little bit too heroic, right?  A lil’ bit too goody-two-shoes?  A bit too stalwart, a bit too incorruptible?  And that’s fine, there’s certainly nothing wrong with a traditionally-heroic white knight of a hero.  But what I might like to see, as the next step going forward, is for female heroes to be allowed a bit more range than just that, so that they’re not just innocent children or literal princesses or shining demigods clad in primary colors.  Let’s have an all-powerful female hero be...well, the easiest way to say it is let’s see her allowed to be bitchier.  Less straightlaced.  Let’s not put an ultimatum on her power, like “Oh sure you can be powerful, but only if you’re super duper nice about it.” Let us have a ruthless woman, but not one ruled by ruthlessness.  Let us have a hero who naturally makes enemies and not friends, who has to work hard to gain allies because her personality doesn’t sparkle and gleam.  Let her have the righteous anger of a lifelong slave, and let that anger be her salvation instead of her downfall.

In other words, let us have Daenerys Targaryen.  And let us put her in a new story instead of an old one.

[spellbound-banshee]

Reaching - Peter Parker

hey y’all! before i put the summary or anything i just want to let you guys know that there is a major trigger warning for this fanfiction. it was super hard for me to write, but i think this could be comforting to a lot of people who are struggling especially at a time like this. it’s a self-harm trigger warning, so please do not read this fanfiction if this is going to upset or trigger you. i hope all of you are staying safe during this quarantine and my inbox is always open if you need to talk about anything at all. i love you all, take care of yourselves <3

Request: hi hi! could you possibly write something where reader self-harms and peter finds out? like she fell asleep on his couch n her sleeve rolled up, n he comforts her n promises not to leave her? if this makes you uncomfy and it’s not healthy for you to write i totally understand!! ik this is a pretty heavy subject 😅 i’ve just been not doing good lately n i need petey boy to comfort me n hold me :)) thank u so much love xx

of course i can, and although it’s very hard for me to write i think i’ll be okay. if you need to talk, never hesitate to message me.

Summary: explained above!

Warnings: fluff, trigger warning, mentions of self-harm, descriptions of cuts and trauma, very sad, angst

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

“Hey baby, sorry I’m-” Peter walked into his apartment, immediately taking his mask off as he swung in through the window. He’d been on a nightly patrol and completely forgot about your coming over, but he texted you - and you being the amazing partner you were, understood completely. When it got later and later you started to get worried, but tried to keep yourself occupied with whatever was on the TV. Now, you were sleeping soundly on his couch with the occasional flash of the TV illuminating your face.

He smiled, pressing the spider button in the middle of his suit, causing it to fall to the floor. He picked it up and walked back into his bedroom, picking up a t-shirt to throw over his head, shaking his hair out of it’s pressed-down form. Wanting to let you sleep, he washed his face in the bathroom and washed some of the dirt and grime off his body.

You stirred when he came back into the room, but didn’t wake up, being too tired to even sense him there. He noticed you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, always wondering why as it was summer, and clearly you were hot inside and outside. Nevertheless, he respected your choices when you said you didn’t want to talk about it.

He reached over the couch to find one of the blankets hanging on the back, making a quick move to drape it over you. It was a light blanket, and he figured it would be nice to have something to cuddle with if you were sleeping alone. He noticed one of your hands exposed and in a strange position, and he always liked to come home and kiss your hand whenever you came over. Smiling, he reached for your hand and brung it up to his lips, and the loose sweatshirt on your body caused the sleeve to fall down. He began to chuckle, until he turned your wrist around to start kissing the other side.

It wasn’t super clear in the light, but as his lips touched your skin, he noticed something bumpy and uneven about the texturing of the anatomy, so he pulled back to take a closer look. He gasped when he saw them, lines running down the skin of your wrist, some spread out and some closer together. He wasn’t sure how to react, his tears filled with eyes at the overwhelming amount of emotion plaguing his mind. The anger, the confusion, the sadness, it all meshed together in one big ball.

His gasp startled you awake, and once you got your bearings you squealed and pulled your wrist back, eager to cover what damage had already been done. But he saw them, and he definitely knew what was happening, and by the look on his face, he wasn’t sure how to react. He looked broken, like he was spinning out of control, but overall he just looked sad. Sad that you didn’t feel safe enough to talk to him, sad that he couldn’t see what was going on earlier rather than letting the signs slip right past him. He began to blame himself.

“Peter I-” You started, beginning to draw back on the couch, no longer feeling safe, feeling trapped and pressured even though he hadn’t said anything. “I don’t...” You didn’t know what the hell to say, you were going to tell him, you swore to yourself, but it never felt like the right time. And you definitely didn’t want him to find out like this. 

Peter slowly turned his gaze towards you, tears glossing over his honey-brown eyes, his bottom lip quivering. He felt helpless, he knew nothing in the world would be enough. Or so he thought.

“(Y/n)...” His voice cracked, tears making their way through, “why didn’t you tell me?” That probably wasn’t the best place to start from, but his mind was practically bursting with this new information, struggling on how to process. 

You paused, physically and mentally restrained from answering for a few moments. “I didn’t... I didn’t know how.” Your voice was also cracking, unsure of how to respond to such a question and how you were going to respond to all the questions he probably had to ask. He nodded his head like he understood, but his eyes were still wide and his tears began to flow now.

“(Y/n).” He reached for your hands put you pulled them back, and just that simple movement caused his little heart to break into a thousand bits. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.” He looked down at his hands, which flopped helplessly in his lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs, I’m sorry I didn’t see enough to understand what was going on.” He shook his head, running his hand through his hair and feeling lost, utterly lost. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve seen and I’m sorry I didn’t, I’m so sorry.”

“Peter, it’s not your fault.” You decided to get off the couch and kneel with him to be at his level, and now he felt bad for making this about him.

His hesitant hands reached out for you, and though you pulled them back a bit at first, you reluctantly obliged. Carefully, he ran his fingers up the sleeve of your shirt and out of habit, when he pulled your sweatshirt up you flinched and pulled back, “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” He reassured, even though you didn’t need to hear that to understand - he would never hurt you. He just wanted to find a way to make you feel better, he know he couldn’t heal you or take away your pain, he just wanted to be there.

He saw the lot of them. Some were whitened with age, others seemed new... fresher. His brain short circuited. He couldn’t understand how he could be so blind to the signs if there were any at all, he couldn’t see how someone that seemed so happy could be so... broken. Peter looked up at you, and you were quietly sobbing, unable to maintain eye contact with him, and he could tell. He pulled your sleeve back down, giving the arm a kiss over the sweatshirt and running his thumb over the marks as if to sooth them away.

“Hey, don’t be scared.” He attempted to keep his voice soft and steady, but inside he was breaking apart. “I’m not going to leave, I’m right here.” He let go of your arm, placing it gently back on the couch and shuffled over to your face - he placed his hands on your cheeks and ushered you to look at him. Your cheeks were sticky and you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes once you saw his. “I want to help you... but I... I don’t know how.” You could hear it in his voice, he was helpless, unprepared, and most of all scared - he could’ve lost you and he wouldn’t have seen it coming.

“Listen, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you.” He took your hands in his, “please, I know it’s hard. But I’m here. If you need me, please just... talk to me. It’s not easy, but... I’m an asset. I can’t stand seeing you hurt especially when you do it to yourself. I love you, (Y/n). With all of my heart.” His voice broke, and he tightened his lips in a thin line, trying to hold it all together. 

“I don’t care where you are, I don’t care what time it is, I don’t care what I’m doing, I’ll come to you. Day or night, rain or shine, I’ll be there. I know I can’t make you promise me you won’t do it again, it takes time to recover and... and you’re going to have relapses.” You sobbed, and once again he tried to keep everything inside, continuing to hold your face softly. “But I want to be there, I’m in this for the long haul, honey. I’ll never leave you, no matter what. I can promise you that.”

You didn’t know what to say, how to thank him, you were so overwhelmed with confirmation and happiness that you were completely tongue-tied. “That was a lot of information I just dumped I’m um,” he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a chuckle akin to a sob, “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, bringing your hands up to his face as well and wiping away the tears that had fallen during his speech. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, and just smiled down at him, shaking your head.

“Thank you.” Was all you could say, and he could live with that for now. In the morning, he would do nothing but research to figure out ways to help you, he would stay by your side for as long as you needed him, and he would check in - something he forgot to do.

“What can I do for now?” He leaned into your touch, placing one of his hands over yours and rubbing it with his thumb. “Please, just... tell me what you need. Anything I just...” He was overwhelmed, so you just shushed him - both of you were exhausted, emotionally and physically.

“Can you just hold me for now?”

“Of course.” He nodded, wiping the rest of his tears off his face with his flannel sleeve and opening himself up to the blanket. He got behind you on the couch and pulled you into his arms, pressing your back against his chest and placing his head on your shoulder. Peter kissed the fabric of your sweatshirt gently, his hands still trembling and his heart still pounding.

“I love you, Peter. I can’t thank you enough. You’re too kind to me.” You articulated with a yawn, and he smiled down at your tired figure.

“Never.” He whispered, kissing behind your ear and nuzzling against you. “You don’t have to thank me... I love you.” You would start crying again if you had it in you, but instead you just tugged him closer to you, kissing one of the broken knuckles on his hand.

“And I love you.” You mumbled a somewhat coherent response back, already feeling yourself drift off into a slumber. Peter’s eyes were heavy from the tears, and his body felt weighted as he lied with you, unable to fall asleep with you on his mind but body begging for sleep. As he heard your soft snores, he slipped his hand in between yours and kissed your temple.

And he stayed awake to watch over you. Not because he didn’t trust you, or to watch you in a creepy way, just to make sure you wouldn’t leave and to make sure you were always comfortable, dreaming. And in the morning, the sleepless Peter Parker drifted out of your arms and into the kitchen. He prayed nothing major would happen in Queens, and prayed everything would work itself out in your favor.

Because you deserved the world.

-

sorry it took so long i had to take breaks :)

[ftb-writes]

And the truth is revealed! I was waiting to post the Marvel fic for Captain Steve Rogers's birthday! Happy Birthday, OG Cap! And the next fic will be Skyrim!

No, but in all actuality, everyone. This was a really difficult fic for me to write, purely because it dealt with some darker themes, and very heavy-handedly. I had trouble writing this 'What if?' fic because it was so dark, and right from the get go. I had to put it down for a couple days at a time as I was writing. So, before you go into this, a few warnings. There is a bit of body horror, though I tried not to get too detailed. There is child death. There is implied (though not *directly* witnessed by the characters) torture. Of both adults and children. Admittance to suicide ideation. Implied cannibalism, and something that ended up sounding like a weird, pseudo-magical prion disease. Implied (though not stated) sexual torture/abuse. This fic is very dark. Please, proceed with caution.

*Please. Please, sir; kill me.

** Thank you.

It is dank in the cramped cellar-turned-laboratory of the crumbling Erskine estate. The age of the damp air hits Steven like a steam train. He chokes on the smell of death and rot wrapping cloyingly around him and the other Avengers. Next to him, Sam and Bucky are gagging, and he hears Tony curse quietly. For once, Steve lets the foul-mouthed inventor be -- the stench is bringing bile to the back of his throat.

The lights don't flick on, despite all the others in the abandoned estate working, and Steve sighs as he flicks the switch up and down a few times ineffectually. The agents with them silently pull out torches. Steve feels his mouth from a grim line as the artificial light washes away the perceived innocence of his old friend.

Abraham had shelves of jars lining the walls, all filled with formaldehyde and bits of human tissue, organs, even a whole fetus suspended in one. The cells on the other side of the ring of light the agents wield are rusty and blood-stained, and have rotting remains still trapped inside. Steve can't bring himself to look at the rib bones jutting up.

As they make their way deeper, the team quickly discovers that the celler opens up into a much larger space -- larger than was reported. They split up and begin to look around, and both the Avengers and the agents accompanying them are horrified by some of the remains they are finding. No one comments on how young the victims all are.

Steve steps around a shelf and notices another victim, this one tacked to the wall and opened up like an anatomical doll. He feels himself heave, and only just avoids puking. There's still some form, but she's mostly sludge by this point. It would have been a gruesome way to go.

To his horror, the girl lifts her head, and Steve chokes on a scream that threatens to tear out of him.

"Bitte," the little girl wheezes. "Bitte, Herr; Töte mich."*

Steve doesn't realize he's crying until after he's fired. He hears one of the nearby agents uttering a prayer for her. "This was a mistake," he tells the team. "We shouldn't be here. This place should have been left to hell."

No one responds.

A few minutes later -- and Steve's morbidly relieved none of the other victims still live -- Bucky mutters a curse of his own. "Stevie, you'll want to see this. Can I get a medic over here?"

Steve weaves his way around shelves, cells, and even a chain-covered operating table. Bucky motions him over to one of the cells, and Sam is just breaking the lock.

Inside the cage is Johann Schmidt, bound, bloodied, and bare. He barely reacts to their presence, but Steve can still see the small flinch. The German isn't looking at any of them, staring out the opposite side of the cell into the dark.

It's Steve's turn to swear. "Get a blanket," he tells the medic that's arrived. As they hurry off, Steve cautiously climbs in with Schmidt and starts cutting away the ropes.

"He's still alive," the German whispers. "Erskine. The fools used the wrong bullet."

"He's delirious," Sam huffs.

"That monster did all this," Schmidt continues, as if Sam hadn't spoken. "And now he's going to do it all to you, Rogers. You should not have come."

The medic returns at that moment, and Steve takes the offered blanket and wraps Schmidt up, before carefully lifting him. "What do you mean?"

"He's still down here," Schmidt breathes.

All the torches go out simultaneously. One of the agents yelps, and then gurgles. Schmidt begins to shiver.

"Please," he whispers. "Shoot me. I can't-"

Steve sets the German on his feet and draws his gun, but catches Schmidt as his legs give out. To see the once proud founder of HYDRA helpless -- Steve doesn't dare think what must have happened to him down here, alone and in the dark.

"Can you walk?" Steve asks, and Schmidt shakes his head.

"Can't feel my legs," Schmidt grunts, and Steve hates the spike of pity and fear that lurches through him.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Steve murmurs.

"I'm a dead man, Rogers. Finish the job and save yourselves. He's not even human anymore."

"What-" Steve starts to ask, and a massive black shape lurches out of the darkness and sinks long claws into the flesh of Schmidt's thigh.

The German screams, and as Steve empties the rest of the magazine into the thing's face, Schmidt pulls the shield free and slams it into the beast's chest. Sam and Bucky are shouting.

"I don't want to be hurt again," Schmidt wimpers, just loud enough for Steve to hear.

He reloads as best as he can one handed -- there's no way he's letting Schmidt go now -- and fires directly into the thing's wrist. It howls, but releases Schmidt and Steve scoops the German up and runs.

He can hear the thing barreling along behind him, whatever it is. Steve hadn't gotten a good look at it, but it reeks of decay, with a bleached skull for a face, and thick, dark fur. It looks like something out of a bad horror film, only real, and Steve can hear agents behind him screaming, and his team calling directions to the exit. Schmidt is sobbing like a child in his arms.

Somehow, in the dark, Steve manages to find the doorway, stumbles up the stairs, out of the cellar. Peter is right behind him, no doubt shoved ahead by Tony, and right behind Peter is the inventor himself. The rest of the Avengers make it out all right, but they've lost most of the agents, and the medic that had brought Steve the blanket. Thor slams the door shut, and the silence is deafening. The group slowly makes their way out to the trucks, stumbling over their own feet as the adrenaline wears off.

In the bright, summer light, Dr. Banner begins to look over Schmidt's wounds, and Steve asks about that beast.

"They have many names; none should be spoken aloud. They eat us mortals, Rogers. Erskine is a monster now. I came -- I was looking for signs of my son. For his sake, I hope the boy's long dead. I -- He-"

Bruce shushes him gently. "Once we get Erskine cleared out, you can search for his remains."

"Danke," Schmidt murmurs, "but he's probably been eaten."**

Steve shakes his head. "I'm so sorry," he tells Schmidt, and means it. "How long had Erskine been torturing people? When he-?"

"Even before he left Germany," Schmidt whispers. "That's why -- I wanted everyone to see what me and the others saw. They're all buried around out here, now. I'm the only one left."

"The others?" Steve prompts.

Schmidt swallows thickly. "When the Nazis were financing the super soldier program, and they had just signed Erskine on, there were about fifty-seven other kids that had been shipped out here. For… experimentation. I happened to be the most fitting candidate. So he didn't kill me, but I wish he had. I suffered so much under his thumb. Am still suffering."

"Other kids," Sam asks. "What do you mean, other kids?"

Schmidt looks at them in shock. "You mean, you didn't know? No one over there knew?"

"Knew what?" Steve hands him a bottle of water, and Schmidt sips from it before he answers.

"Rogers, I was only fifteen during the war. Three years younger than you. I was selected because I'd been an orphan for most of my life by that point. I arrived when I was, I'm not sure, maybe eight? By twelve, I already wanted to die." Schmidt seems concerned. "Did none of SHIELD really know how old I was?"

"No," Steve sighs, and he feels guilty now. If he'd known all of this during the war, he would have tried at least a little bit harder to de-escalate things between him and Schmidt. Maybe, the German might have been talked out of world domination. But then again, if he'd known all this during the war, a lot of things would have been different.

"I can see those sad puppy dog eyes from over here, Rogers. I assure you, nothing you could have said at that point would have stopped me. As I said, I wanted to die. At least as the Red Skull, no one would hurt me."

Before Steve can think of a response, Schmidt clears his throat. "We should come up with a plan. Before it gets dark. Things like that can't come out during the day. However, once it gets dark…"

Peter raises his hand quietly, as if trying to ask a question in school. "I'd rather not be eaten thanks," he admits, "I have a math test next week."

Schmidt laughs, surprisingly. "A good head on his shoulders, Junior," he says to Tony. "Now, do any of you have silver bullets?"

One of the remaining agents laughs, but as Schmidt silently turns his attention toward the agent, they realize no one else is laughing. The chuckles awkwardly trail off. No one actually answers Schmidt.

"Well then, the best thing we can do is leave to get some, and try to make it back before sundown. Otherwise he might just run off, and we'll never see him again."

"I'll go," Steve offers. "The rest of you, stay here and make sure he doesn't leave. Schmidt, you want to come with me?"

Schmidt hesitates, obviously a bit uncomfortable, but he shrugs and nods. "I'd rather be as far away from -- the thing Erskine has become as possible."

"We'll take care of it," Steve promises Schmidt, as the two climb into one of the trucks. "That thing, whatever it is, isn't natural. That's for sure."

"No." Schmidt shifts in the seat, clearly trying to get more comfortable while also favoring his injured leg. "No, it's not."

[awake-dearheart]

Show Me What You’ve Got [p.p.]

Summary: Mary Jane asked Peter to help train her so she can survive in an increasingly dangerous New York City.

Word Count: 1250ish

Pairing: Peter Parker x Mary Jane Watson

Warnings: A couple punches, minor angst, mostly just sass

A/N: Originally posted 8/9/19 as my entry for @tomhollandd​‘s writing challenge. This is the first time I’ve done a challenge and it was really fun. I like dis. Prompt is in bold. If you’d like to be added to my permanent taglist, just send an ask.

Also I went with Mary Jane and not Michelle only because I’m playing Spider-Man on PS4 currently and she’s in the game. I love Z and movie MJ I just didn’t have the brain energy to remember Michelle’s quirks when Mary Jane was in my face.

“I’m still not sure this is a great idea…” Peter winced. MJ stood in front of him, her red hair braided down her neck, fists raised. It had been her idea to start training. New York was getting more dangerous by the day and MJ knew if she was going to survive then she couldn’t afford to always be waiting around for Spider-Man to save her. In the time since Peter had gotten his powers she’d been kidnapped by the Green Goblin, Scorpion, Doc Ock and Kraven. Waiting on the sidelines wasn’t an option anymore. She had to be able to take care of herself. But as Peter stared at her in front of him, her fists balled and her face set, he knew he couldn’t do this.

“Ugh, Pete!” MJ groaned and dropped her head back. “I thought we talked about this?” Peter sighed and chewed his bottom lip. They had talked about it. At great length. For days. And as much as Peter hated to admit it, she had a point.

“I know, I know, I just…” Peter trailed off. MJ saw the conflict dancing across Peter’s face and sighed. Taking his face in her hands she forced him to meet her gaze.

“Pete,” she started softly, “I know this is scary. But our world is scary. Even if I wasn’t dating Spider-Man it would be. There are new bad guys popping up every day and you can’t be everywhere at once. If I’m in trouble I need to be able to save myself instead of hoping you’ll swing in and web up the bad guys. And you need to be able to focus on saving the city without worrying about whether or not I’m in danger.”

“MJ, you aren’t equipped to go toe-to-toe with the people that come after me,” Peter said flatly.

“I’m not talking about trying to take on supervillains!” MJ countered sharply. “I’m taking about the regular non-super powered douche bags who roam around. Those guys, I can handle.” Peter sighed and looked into her eyes. The thought of MJ getting into a fight tore him apart, but not nearly as much as the thought of her getting hurt.

“You’re right,” he conceded.

“This is all going to be a lot easier once you realized I always am.” She smiled and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Now teach me how to kick some ass.”

Half an hour and some wounded pride later, MJ was flat on her back for the fifth time. This time it was courtesy of a leg sweep.

“Jesus Pete!” she huffed.

“Sorry, shit. Sorry! Are you ok?” Peter’s face appeared above her own, etched with worry.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she answered. “Just give me a sec.”

“Maybe we should-“

“Peter Parker I swear to god if you say we should take a break one more time I’m not having sex with you for an entire month!” MJ heard him suck in a breath and took that as him agreeing. Groaning, she got back to her feet. “Let’s go again.”

“MJ, come on. At least drink some water,” Peter pleaded.

“No,” she said sternly. “I have to do this.” She readied herself again and arched an eyebrow at Peter, who begrudgingly complied.

“Ok fine. Now, square up your hips…good…don’t get jumpy. Let them make the first move. Anyone who comes at you is going to be bigger than you. Bullies go after people they see as weaker and they’re going to think you’re helpless. Let them. Use that to your advantage.” MJ listened intently, absorbing everything she could.

“How do I do that?”

“You keep moving. Use your feet and get them off balance. Big is only good when you can hit your target so make ‘em work for it. Keep moving and watch the hands. Wait for an opening and make your move. Got it?” She nodded. “Ok…here we go.”

Peter swung with his right fist and MJ danced backwards out of his way. He spun back to her with a mix of surprise and admiration on his face.

“Great, MJ! Again.” He swung and MJ dodged him again. Pete threw a couple more punches that she managed to avoid, albeit with a couple of pretty close calls. As his hand flew past her face again she saw her chance. She swung her right arm hard and heard a THUD as her fist connected with Peter’s jaw. He staggered back cupping his cheek. MJ’s hands flew to cover her mouth. “Oh my god, Peter! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” She moved towards him but he waved her off.

“First rule of fighting: Never apologize to your opponent,” he laughed. “Even if it’s your boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry you just said look for an opening and I saw it and-“ “MJ,” Peter interrupted her babbling. “I’m fine. You did great.” A red spot was blooming on his cheek and MJ couldn’t help but feel a small bit of pride mixed with the guilt. She walked towards Peter and ran her fingers over his cheek. “Does it hurt?” she asked. Peter shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard is all.” MJ beamed at him.

“Well that was the idea, wasn’t it?” Standing on her toes she placed a small kiss where her blow had landed. “Come on, let’s go again.”

“Hey MJ, can I ask you something?” MJ rolled her eyes. Peter was blinking rapidly, a telltale sign he was fighting back tears. She must have hit him harder than she thought.

You go MJ, she thought. She raised her brows at him and waited for him to continue.

“Is all this…are you just looking for a reason to get Jameson to send you on some bigger assignments?” Peter’s voice was so small that for a minute MJ was looking at the shy boy she knew in high school, not the man she’d been living with for 3 years. She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. It was true, but she was hoping Pete wouldn’t figure it out. She’d been working for the Bugle for about a year now and her boss, the positively cavemanish J. Jonah Jameson, still kept feeding her puff pieces and safe stories. His excuse was always the same: A woman of your demeanor can’t handle the big stuff. If he weren’t such a complete tool it would be almost impressive how he could be so condescending and misogynistic at the same time. Peter cleared his throat still waiting for an answer. MJ sighed.

“It is and it isn’t. I meant what I said. I don’t want to have to rely on you to save the day, but if me being able to fend for of myself means I get some bigger stories then that’s just a bonus.” MJ wrapped her arms around Peter’s waist and rested her chin on his chest. His warm brown eyes gazed down at her as he pulled her close. “Plus once triple J finds out little Miss Mary Jane Watson punched Spider-Man right in the face, he’ll be tripping over his feet to give me the good stuff.” Peter’s smile fell and MJ stepped back laughing.

“So you’re just using me for bragging rights at this point?” Peter asked, feigning offense.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ok…ok well put ‘em up Miss Watson. From here on out, no more Mr. Nice Spider.” Peter raised his fists and she mirrored him. “Show me what you’ve got.” MJ smirked.

“Come and get me, tiger.”

Permanent taglsit:  @spideyboipete @marvelxholland @gyllenwh0re  @hollandraul @sunflower-spideyy @sunmoonandbucky @angelhaz11@thefridgeismybestie @fairytaleparker @afictionaladventure16 @missmeganrachel @geeksareunique @captainsteveevans @dasexydevitt13 @my-drowning-in-time @creepylittlemarvelgirl @stabbyhat @heyhihellowhatsup0​ @stretchkingblog97​ @sebbbystaaan​ @willowtree42095​ @yourmum792​ @piper-koko-barnes-rogers​ @just-the-hiddles​ @lyniboy​

[saintlavrents]

Together [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Prompt: “Do you trust me?”

Summary: Peter’s been putting you on the sidelines and you were tired of it.

Words: 1,254 (probs the longest ive ever written so far omg)

A/N: FFH SPOILERS!! hi this is super late but this is my entry to @definitely-not-black-cat​‘s writing challenge. and this is quite meh bc I am so out of practice but im so busy with college n stuff so yea. enjoy??

Upon noticing that Peter had walked out of the opera, Y/N followed him out, but far enough that he didn’t notice her following him. She soon lost him as the streets were crowded due to the festival, so she decided to suit up.

She flew for a bit before seeing him on the side of a building, in a full black suit. She decided to land in an alley near the building he was at. Upon hearing the familiar sound of an iron suit, Peter swung down on his web and walked over towards where she landed.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

Her helmet dissolves, “I came to help you.”

“No, Y/N, it’s too dangerous.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh, c’mon, not this again.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You should be with the others in the opera.”

“I’m sick of being on the sidelines and doing nothing, Peter. I want to help. Don’t you trust me?”

He walked closer to her and puts his right hand on her cheek, “Look, it’s too dangerous, okay? I don’t want you t-”

The two broke it off as the huge fire monster started to appear from beneath the ground. Mysterio had also arrived on the scene and started to shoot it, whilst telling Peter through the comms that they had to prevent the fire monster from absorbing metal. Y/N tried shooting at it from above, whilst Peter tried to get the metal away from it in order to stop it from getting even bigger.

Y/N spotted Ned and Betty on the Ferris Wheel, but since Peter isn’t wearing the Iron Spider suit, there’s no way for her to tell him to get it as far away as possible from the Ferris Wheel, so that she could have enough time to get Ned and Betty out of there. So, she flew down.

“Peter! Ned and Betty are up there. I’m going to get them out of here.”

“Okay!” And with that, Peter swung a huge rock towards the monster, making it stumble back and turning its full attention to Peter, whilst Y/N flew towards the component, where Ned and Betty were at.

“Guys, hold on!” She yelled at them as she reached both her hands over, trying to carry them both at the same time. She had both of them holding her suit arm tight and flew towards the opera building, as it was quite far from there and dropped them off at the entrance before going back to the fire monster.

Y/N came back to the sight of Mysterio flying towards the fire monster and turning the glowing orange creature to green. Before the monster exploded. And the next thing she knew, Mysterio was lying on the ground, as Peter tried to help him up.

And soon enough, Fury and Maria Hill came and Y/N walked away from the scene as Fury, Maria and Mysterio started talking to Peter. She went back to the hotel, her suit dissolves into her necklace and she walked over to her shared room with MJ.

“Hey, where have you been?” MJ asks the moment she walked into the room.

“I tried to help, with the fire thing.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. You?”

“I managed to get out of the carnival the moment I saw the thing come out of the ground, so I’m okay.”

“Good.” She nodded.

“The trip’s over, by the way.”

“I heard. Ned told me on my way in.”

“Oh, and I found this while I was running away.” MJ dug through her bag and handed Y/N a strange looking object.

“Where did you get it?” She asks, as she took the object from MJ’s hands.

“In an alley, not that far from where the monster was.”

Y/N inspected the object in her hand before she was interrupted by a knock on the door. She shoved it inside her bag. MJ going to the door to see who it is.

“It’s Peter. Should I open it?”

“Sure.” And MJ opens the door and before he could even ask, she pointed at Y/N, who’s started packing some of her things into her suitcase.

“Hey, Y/N, can we talk?”

“Okay.”

Y/N walked out of the room and crossed her hands over her chest as she waits for Peter to say what he wants to say.

“I’m so-“

“Do you trust me, Peter?” She interrupted him, knowing that he’s going to apologize yet again.

“Of course, I do. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

She scoffed. He has been doing this ever since her father died and it annoys her that he’s treating her like some helpless child, when she can definitely fight and defend herself.

“Y/N, please, you have to understand that this is for your own g-”

“Stop treating me like a child! I can fight and I’m not the fragile thing you think I am!” Her raised voice got a few head turns to the two from a few of the people in the hallway of the hotel.

The two paused for a bit. “We should probably finish this somewhere else.” Peter suggested.

She nodded before going back into the room to grab her bag and out of the hotel with Peter towards a quiet and empty bridge. The two walked in silence as neither of them knew how to continue.

But Peter was the one to break the silence, “Look, Y/N.” The pair stopped in the middle of the bridge, Y/N finally turning to him.

“I… I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to lose you too, Peter. That’s why I wanted to help.”

“I lost my parents, my uncle and Tony. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Y/N look down at the mention of her father. She still misses him. She could feel the tears building up on her eyes. Peter placed his hand on her cheeks, which made her look up at him. He wiped the teardrops that were already falling down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Pete. I know it’s for my own good. I just… I just felt like I had to do something to help, you know. To keep his legacy alive. And I’ve just been so angry all the time. It’s like I’m mad at myself for not being able to accept that he’s gone. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

“I’m sorry too, Y/N.”

Peter leaned in and kissed her and the two hugged, embracing each other’s presence and warmth in the cold night air. The two pulled away from each other and Y/N wiped the rest of the tears from her face.

“Oh, by the way, MJ found this. She gave it to me earlier.” Y/N reached into her bag and handed Peter the object.

“What’s this?”

“No idea.” And suddenly the object came on and there was a huge projection of the fire monster from earlier along with Mysterio.

“Wait, so it’s fake?”

“Oh god, no.”

“Peter, what’d you do?”

“I gave him E.D.I.T.H. because I figured Tony would want me to give it to a more responsible adult.”

“Oh my god.”

“I gotta get to Germany.” Peter said as he started to walk towards the direction of where the hotel is, with Y/N following beside him.

“Why?”

“To tell Fury.”

“Then, let’s go together.” She smiled at him.

The fear of losing her will always be there and she will also feel the same about him. But what matters is, sticking together through it all.

[n8thegr8]

My Avengers Academy Chapter 2: And Along Came a Spider

“This. Is. So. Cool!” Peter couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The lobby of Avengers Tower looked like something out of Star Wars, but it still had that Stark Industries feel to it. Holographic images of Tony Stark played welcoming whoever walked through the door. The floor was gold stained marble, and Peter could see his own reflection. They probably deep wash this floor every night! He saw multiple strangers littered across the entire room: business people, the media, some students, and even some pro heroes.

“Oh my God, Ant Man is literally twenty yards away from me,” Peter mumbled, absolutely star struck.

“Jeez dude, you ‘aight? You seem really uh…” Pietro trailed off. 

“Eager, to say the least,” Wanda cut off Pietro. She planted her hand on Peter's shoulder and almost flinched; he was shaking and quivering. To be fair, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, considering how excited he must be. He was excited. Wanda would describe Peter as a young child being brought to his favorite toy store. She knew how important this was to him;it was important to her as well. She wanted to be a hero who could magically whisk away people’s problems. If Wanda couldn’t do that, then she wanted to help as much as she could. 

“I know how excited you are, but keep it down a level or two. We can talk about all this...” Wanda’s gaze scanned the giant room, “...really,'' her journey stopped when she saw golden statues of Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, The Hulk, the first Ant Man, andThe Wasp respectively. They weren’t massive, which allowed for them to be placed near the enterence to the staff and student only elevator. “...cool,” her gaze wandered over to see a rather attractive man in a blue uniform with a red flowing cape. “Oh my God, it’s Doctor Strange.”

“Oh my God, he’s right there.” Peter pulled out his hero notebook.

“Oh my God, he really is.” Pietro’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Oh my God, shut up,” a fourth voice spoke up.

The trio turned their heads to see Flash. His face was plastered with a smug grin. Pietro stood forward, pushing Peter and Wanda behind him.

“Oh please, Eugene. You wanna get into Avengers Academy too,” Pietro spat back, “You gotta be a little excited, right? Or is that impossible for someone with a cold dead heart?”

“Tch.” Flash put his hands in his pockets and walked past Peter and Wanda. Pietro mimicked his movements, effectively acting as a wall between the two and Flash. Flash looked at Peter, “How’s the hand, wall-crawler?”

Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His eyes opened back up and he pointed to Flash’s arm. “J-just fine. How’s that bruise on your arm?”

Flash’s eyes widened and lifted his left arm to inspect it. What he found was right under his short sleeve; a dark red bruise. He put his arm down and glared at Peter with a ferocious intensity. “You should get better material, Parker,” he growled, “Whatchya lookin’ at me so much, huh? Peekin’ out from the cracked closet door?”

“Enough.” The four turned once again to see their chaperone towering over them. “If you four aren’t on your best behavior, believe me, I will personally see that each one of you is punished. Got that?”

“Yes, sir…” all four replied.

Peter watched as the chaperone walked away. Yeah, just ignore the casual bullying, nothing to see here. Peter groaned in annoyance.

Flash sighed and started his walk towards the main group, bumping his shoulder with Pietro as he did. “I’ll catch you later, Wall-Crawler.”

Peter felt so helpless when he called him that. It just reminded him of that day.

“Jeez Peter, you’re so weak!” a young Flash Thompson said while on top of a wall.

Peter glanced towards the ground in embarrassment. He has been trying to climb the wall for the past ten minutes, but he kept falling. “I can’t do it, Eugene! I-it’s too, um… slippery!”

Flash rolled his eyes. “Stop making excuses, Peter! Come on!”

Peter’s mind raced as he looked upon the wall again. It towered over him, making him feel so small. He couldn’t do this there’s nothing to grab on to. “F-Flash, I’m just gonna go around.”

“Ugh Peter, don’t be such a sissy.”

“That’s not a nice word,” Peter muttered.

“Come on! Just do it!”

Peter winced at Flash’s command. Why couldn’t Flash just let him go around? Peter couldn’t climb it; it’s too steep and slippery. He’ll just fall again. He didn’t want to make Flash mad, but no matter what, Peter just couldn’t climb it. 

“Hey! What are you doing you wimp?!”

Peter snapped back into reality and noticed that Flash was gone. W...where did he go? he thought. 

A scream deafened Peter’s ears. “Flash?!” Peter called out for his friend.

“Stop! Stop please!” the screaming continued, “Daddy! Help me!” the screaming was coming from the other side of the wall. 

Peter didn’t think when he heard those screams. He vaulted himself onto the wall and started to climb. Digging his fingers into the cracks, pushing up off the ledges under his feet, reaching for the deformities to climb up. “Flash, I’m on my way!” He got to the top and then looked down behind him. He… he did it! He climbed the wall. “I… I did it.” 

“Hey, Peter-“

“-are you okay?” Wanda’s voice suddenly entered the picture, and Peter jolted out of his dreamlike state. No longer was he at a park in the year 2021. Instead,he was back in Avengers Tower in the year 2030. 

He turned his head to look at her and nodded. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay,” Peter gave a big smile, “Let’s go and enjoy this!”

Wanda flashed a smile back at Peter. “This is gonna be great!”

The tour of the facility was structured into three sections, and each section had been allotted an hour. The first section of the tour was dedicated to the general history of the Avengers, its founders, and the history of heroism. 

“Our tour guide is Hawkeye?!” Peter gushed excitedly to Pietro, who returned his excitement.

“I know! Dude, do you think he really has a quirk?” Pietro asked inquisitively.

Peter closed his eyes and put his hand under his chin. He then went into deep thought. “I actually never considered that. If he doesn’t then it would definitely be a scandal in the superhero society. However, he claims that he never misses, and his quirk is called ‘Dead-Aim’ when he was being interviewed by the Daily Bugle top journalist Eddie Brock he has never released his blood examples to the public. It’s not like he’s contractually or legally obligated to. The Super-Human Registration Act never forces you to make anything about yourself public, and even then it’s highly unlikely-“

“Hey, kid! Yeah, you! The one next to the white-haired boy an’ the brunette, would ya mind shuttin’ ya trap? I’m tryin’ to give a tour here!”

A jolt of surprise ravaged Peter’s body as he was interrupted by the very subject of his mumbling. His gaze was met with the intense gaze of Hawkeye himself, who had conveyed annoyance from his posture. “I-I-I,�� Peter stammered as his body stiffened, and his face turned a shade of crimson red. 

“Yeah yeah, that’s what I thought, just keep your mouth closed alright?”

“Y-yes, sir…” Peter said with his face hung in embarrassment. He averted his gaze to the right and noticed Wanda gritting her teeth.

“Asshole,” Poison dripped from her tongue as she said this.

Peter let out a small chuckle and pulled out his hero notebook. He opened it to Hawkeye’s page, and added, ‘Rude,’ under his personality profile. Definitely not asking him my question… 

“Tch,” Peter looked up from his notebook to see Flash looking directly at him. He then shook his head, putting his attention to the tour.

The second section of the tour was a showcase of the academy. The group was stuffed into a large elevator and was lifted up to floor 63. From there, the tour continued to the vast array of classrooms. Peter was astonished from the sight. It was the end of lunch for the students, and they were all headed back to their classrooms. “So many students, and they’re all gonna be heroes…” Peter murmured.

“They’re all so well dressed…” Pietro added, “Ugh, do I have to put the effort into how I look when I go here?”

“The day when you put effort into your appearance is the day when hell freezes over, Pietro,” Wanda jabbed, “Maybe if you do, you’ll actually get a girlfriend.”

Peter tried so hard to keep in his laughter, but his body betrayed him. Pietro then shot Peter a dirty look that screamed, “Are you for real?” Pietro was wearing the bare minimum in terms of fashion. He bore a logoed t-shirt with bright blue jeans and basic white gym shoes. Compared to Wanda’s more fashionable choice of a black undershirt, a red jacket, ripped dark jeans, dark gym shoes, and a red bandana wrapped around her head in a nice bow, Pietro’s fashion was basic and uninspired.

“Nah, I don’t have to put effort into my appearance,” Pietro scoffed, “I’m already perfect as is. The girls are gonna run at me.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at Pietro’s egotist statement. “How am I even related to you?”

“Wanna have a detailed explanation?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Guys, Beast is in the class next to us,” Peter whispered, peeking into a classroom.

Pietro and Wanda dropped their sibling banter and joined Peter. There they saw Dr. Hank McCoy, also known as Beast. He had a heteromorphic quirk, which meant that he looked different from “regular” humans. 

“He’s huge,” Peter gasped. He stood at 6’8,” and was covered head to toe in blue fur. He had fangs, sharpened claws, and had muscles that were reminiscent of an ape. Peter pulled out his hero notebook once more, and wrote down what he was observing.

“Jeez, he’s intimidating,” Pietro blurted quietly.

“Y-yeah for real,” Wanda stammered.

Peter was writing in his notebook with a fervor that was never experienced by man before. He wrote down every detail he saw: how he was reading a book as he was hanging upside down from the ceiling, how even though he looked like a monster he still had to wear glasses to read, how he was now right in front of him? Wait, what?

Peter’s soul nearly jumped right out of his body as he came to the discovery that the Pro Hero Beast was now standing right in front of him. He looked to Wanda and Pietro, who were shaking in their soles.

Beast opened the door that separated him from the trio. “Hello! How may I help you, children?”

He’s so polite! Peter, Pietro, and Wanda had the same reaction.

Beast took a deep look at the three children that were in front of him, they all had a mixed look of terror, anxiety, curiosity, and amazement plastered onto their faces. He noticed their lack of uniform and came to the only rational conclusion.

“Ah, you must be on tour!” He clapped his hands together and laughed. “I know how overwhelming this school can be at times, with all the pro heroes and promising students treading around.” He kneeled down to be at Peter’s eye level. “But you should know that at the end of the day, we’re all human. We’re just like you, and that’s why we’ve become heroes in the first place.”

As Beast was giving his small lecture, Peter wrote every word he heard, all while maintaining eye contact with him. Beast took note of this. “Ah, a fine learner, I presume?” 

Peter stopped writing and tried to stammer out an answer. “I… I… I…”

Beast gave a hearty laugh. “Oh don’t be embarrassed, my boy! Be proud of your sense of curiosity and love for learning.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him for years!” Wanda chimed in gleefully.

“Oh, and you have support as well, young man! By just looking at you three I can tell that you are all extremely close.” Beast took a hand each of the trio and put them together, the trio now in a position reminiscent of how sports teams break in their huddles. Peter’s face was cascaded in red as he took Wanda’s hand. “Cling on to this kinship that you all have, children. If you wish to graduate from this school and become a hero, having friends you can trust is the most important weapon to fight evil that you will ever have.”

Peter, to say the least, was starstruck. An esteemed hero, such as Beast, was giving him and his best friends life advice to become heroes! He didn’t ask if he was quirkless, and he didn’t assume anything negative. Peter had to ask him his question. Beast was the right person to ask.

“D-Dr. McCoy I-” Peter felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, which shocked him deeply.

“What did I say about being on your best behavior?”

Peter, Pietro, and Wanda turned around to see their chaperone, who wore a very annoyed look on his face. 

“Sorry, sir.” The trio hung their heads in shame.

The chaperone huffed. “I apologize for the annoyance, Doctor.”

Beast laughed once again. “Oh do not apologize, my good man. These children are just starstruck!” Beast smiled warmly. “It’s not every day that you get to see a pro hero so up close.”

The chaperone sighed. “Well, you’re not wrong.” He motioned to the trio to go back to the group. “We’re waiting on you three.”

Peter, Pietro, and Wanda said their goodbyes to Beast and headed off on their way. Peter excitedly opened up his notebook yet again and turned to Beast’s page. He wrote the word “kind” under his personality profile. 

“Jesus Christ.” Yet again, Peter perked up to see Flash looking at him yet again. Flash looked away, then, as if nothing happened.

Peter suddenly had a horrible thought. Was Flash going to do something to him on this field trip? There are so many people around, though. Was Flash growing bolder? Did he think he can get away with hurting Peter without anybody noticing? No, he’s not that stupid. There are too many people, plus Wanda and Pietro are here. Peter shook his head and walked with the tour guide to the last section on the itinerary.

The final section of the tour was a scientific demonstration by Dr. Bruce Banner and Tony Stark, also known as Hulk and Iron Man. The demonstration was held in the school’s auditorium, and it was the biggest room that the group had ever been in. They sat in three seats next to each other in the front row of the auditorium.

Wanda reached her hand towards the ceiling. “It’s so tall...”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Pietro sneered, “Anything else painfully apparent that you wanna point out?”

Wanda shot a dirty look at him. “You’re an idiot who’ll run into a ditch on your first day of being a professional hero, and you’re going to fall into obscurity as I rise to the top.”

“Ouch.” Pietro dramatically clutched his chest. “These hot takes are giving me a strong case of ‘You’rejustjealousthatIhaveacoolerquirkthanyou-itis.’”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that! There’s a vaccine for it, it’s called a ‘reality check.’”

“I like Hex more than Super-Speed, I gotta admit,” Peter chuckled.

“No, not you too, man!” Pietro reached out to Peter. “Don’t tell me she brainwashed you!”

Peter showed Pietro Wanda’s page in the hero notebook and pointed to the ‘potential’” section. “I mean, Hex can probably make her fly and that’s automatically awesome.” Peter flipped the page to Pietro’s. “While your quirk is astonishing, and you’re only going to become stronger with more practice, I don’t see you flying. Sooo, yeah.”

Pietro’s face drooped with disappointment. “Yeah, thanks for the ego check, man.”

Peter smiled brightly. “You’re welcome!”

Wanda snickered.

“Oh my God,” Pietro sighed.

“Hey Pete, can I see my section?” Wanda held out her hand.

“Yeah!” Peter handed Wanda the notebook. “Here.”

Wanda flipped to her section of the notebook. She scanned the page and saw that the ‘Potential Hero Name was filled with different options. “Wow, there are a lot of names.”

Peter scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Yeah, like a week ago I sat at my desk and made all of these potential hero names for you. Some of them are cool, but the others… not so much.”

Wanda gave a small chuckle as she scanned the names. One name, in particular, caught her gaze. “The Scarlet Witch?”

“I actually really like that one!”

“Sounds like a villain’s name, to be honest.” Pietro chimed in.

“It sounds cool but…” Wanda pulled a pen out of her purse and added a new name. “How about this?”

Peter and Pietro leaned in to see the name “The Crimson Sorceress.”

“That’s just ‘The Scarlet Witch’ with different synonyms, sis.”

“Yeah, but it sounds more heroic.” Wanda acted like she was putting up a magic barrier between her and the boys. “More magical.” 

“I like it!” Peter exclaimed.

“Yeah, of course, you would.” Pietro sank into his chair. “Whipped,” he whispered. 

Suddenly, a stinging pain found its home on the backside of Pietro’s head as Wanda’s hand slapped it. “Ow! What the hell?!”

“I heard that, you dick.”

Peter tilted his head in confusion. “Heard what?”

“Don’t worry about it, Pete.” Wanda winked, but only for a moment.

The lights in the auditorium dimmed and brightened, signaling that the demonstration was going to begin. Peter put on his glasses and pulled out his camera. He wanted to take pictures of the event, and maybe get a better photo of Dr. Banner and Iron Man for his notebook.

Wanda turned to Peter. “Make sure the flash is off, okay?”

“Yeah, ya don’t wanna cause any difficulties, alright bud?”

“Don’t worry, I turned it off before we even got on the bus,” Peter confirmed.

The curtains rose, and there he stood: Dr. Banner, the Incredible Hulk. He stood even taller than Beast did. Peter’s estimate put him at least seven feet tall. Dr. Banner wore a suit that had to have been tailor-made for him, considering how buff he was. He wore heavy rimmed glasses, which Peter appreciated. Like Beast, he looked intimidating, but he emanated this feeling of kindness and sincerity. His appearance showed the strength of his character, as for many years, the Hulk was called a menace to the Earth. Dr. Banner has made many TV appearances to talk about his beginning years as the Hulk. How he fled to South America to escape the United States Military, how his childhood trauma fed into the alternate persona that the Hulk adopted, how dealing with anger management is important, and how living with a split personality disorder is just another facet of the crazy experience called Bruce Banner’s life. When he merged himself with the Hulk, he explained that he felt whole, but sometimes when pushed to the edge the other personality comes out. He went on to explain that the Hulk wasn’t a bad person, far from it. In reality,the Hulk was actually a really kind and gentle creature that just wanted to be left alone. In fact, The Hulkstill had conversations with him about the meaning of life, the ins and outs of heroism, and even what they were going to have for lunch that day. Ever since then, Dr. Banner has been a pioneer in not only the genetic and radiological sciences ,but also in mental health and the understanding of all kinds of disabilities. Whenever Dr. Banner had an interview, Peter made sure to either watch it live or record it; he loved hearing the man talk.

Peter heard the audience murmur about the missing hero who was supposed to be with Dr. Banner on stage: Iron Man. The most popular hero, not only in the USA, but in the entire world. The story of how Tony Stark, a weapons dealer and billionaire playboy philanthropist became the Invincible Iron Man. Everyone knew how it went: Tony Stark was a selfish CEO of Stark Enterprises, and only looked out for himself until he was captured by terrorists in 1998. The terrorists used missiles that were designed by Stark himself and were struck in the chest by shrapnel but were saved by a man who managed to create a magnetic field inside his body to keep the shrapnel from reaching his heart. He was forced to build a new type of weapon for the terrorists, but what he really did was build a suit of armor that augmented his quirk: Arc Reactor. He then became the Invincible Iron Man, and escaped the terrorists’ base  making it back home to the United States in one piece. He put a stop on all weapon construction, changed Stark Industries to become a humanitarian company, and registered as a hero. He became a cultural icon; everyone knew  of Iron Man and his heroism. He wasn’t Peter’s favorite hero, but he still held a place in Peter’s heart as a founding member of the Avengers, and a great hero all around. He hasn’t made a public appearance in a while, though, Peter thought.

Dr. Banner stepped up to the mic, tapped it just so slightly to see if it was on, and had to catch it because it almost tipped over. “Sorry, over thirty years of being in this body, and I still can’t gauge how strong I actually am.” The audience was filled with laughter. Dr. Banner waved his hands to signal the audience to calm themselves. “You might be wondering about the lack of an overinflated ego that’s trapped in a yellow and red suit of armor.” He took the microphone and started to walk across the stage so that he wouldn’t stay static during the presentation. “Unfortunately, about thirty minutes ago, Iron Man was called for duty, and it’s my off day.I’ll be damned if they call me in.” He played with the wire of the microphone. “I never get called into work, I mean,” he chuckled, “Would you want to be the one to tell The Hulk that he has to come in on his day off?”

The audience burst into laughter once again, which showcased how strong Dr. Banner was as an enter, Dr. Banner knew how to keep the audience entertained. Peter had a hard time getting a good shot due to his own chuckles. 

“I never knew he was such a personality on the stage,” Wanda whispered to Peter.

Peter turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Wanda, we watched like five of his interviews two nights ago.”

Wanda’s face was struck with confusion. “We did?”

Something told Peter that Wanda wasn’t paying attention that day, and that made him a bit sad. He soon forgot about it though, considering how  the actual presentation began.

“Now, onto the real show.” Dr. Banner walked towards the podium that was on his left. “As we know, quirks are genetic in nature, but scientists haven’t figured out what they really are yet.” A projection of a DNA strand appeared behind him. “However, we do now know that the quirks have a very similar genetic make-up to that of gamma radiation.”

“Hey, is that true?” Pietro asked Peter in a whispered tone.

Peter leaned his into Pietro to speak directly into his ear. “Yeah, last year they found out that his irradiated genetics are comparable to quirks. He wasn’t born with a quirk, remember? It was the gamma bomb that did it.”

“So, to pursue the hypothesis that quirks were birthed from a gamma event, the Avengers Institute and Stark Enterprise partnered with Oscorp to explore this line of thinking.” 

A sudden thought rushed through Peter’s head, Oscorp? That’s Harry’s dad’s company… I haven’t texted him in a while. I should see what’s up with him when I get home.

“Just recently we made a gigantic scientific breakthrough, we found out how to create quirks.”

The audience erupted in disbelief. Soft mumblings filled the auditorium. Some were in disbelief, while others questioned the ethics of such a practice. 

“Nah, that’s impossible, man.” Peter turned his head to Pietro. “There’s no way that you can create a quirk just like that.ike, an actual quirk, not a superpower born from an explosion or from an experiment, but an actual quirk? I call BS.”

“Would you just shut up and watch?” Wanda spat.

“And, this, right here, is the fruit of our labor,” Dr. Banner declared as he pressed a small clicker in his hand. “Oh, it didn’t break it this time, thank god.” 

The stage floor opened up. Peter heard the machinery in the under-stage doing its work. Then, out of the blue, he saw a very odd-looking machine rise up. The machine had two parts to it: two pillars stood erect parallel to each other. Each pillar curved into each other, at the end of both points were bright red spheres. Various ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were delivered from the audience.

“This, my eager audience, is ‘The Quirk Accelerator,’ and we are going to make a quirk, right here, right now.” Dr. Banner clicked the clicker once again and a thick sheet of glass separated the stage from the audience. “Man, I’m on a roll today,” he stated proudly. “Now, once I press this button again, we will create an entirely new quirk.” 

“Dude, you have to  get a shot of this,” Pietro demanded.

“Yeah, Pete! Ooo, this is gonna be cool!” Wanda exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Peter excitedly pulled up his camera, but not before double-checking to see if the flash was turned off. He put his eye up to the viewfinder, and pointed his shot towards the Quirk Accelerator. As he took multiple shots of the machine itself, he noticed something that wasn’t supposed to be there. It was small, but he saw it. A spider, that was lowering itself from the ceiling with a single strand of its web. Peter didn’t know why he focused on such a minuscule thing, but he took a picture of it anyway. Who knows, maybe it’ll get him an award or something. That’d be nice, he thought to himself.

“Strap yourself in folks, ‘cause this is gonna be one hell of a frickin’ light show!” Dr. Banner shouted with excitement.

With yet another click, the Quirk Accelerator hummed. All of the lights that illuminated the stage shut off, and the thick sheet of glass tinted itself to a rather dark degree. Dr. Banner’s description was very apt. In between the two pillars, extremely bright electricity flowed and clashed with the two red spheres. Muffled crackles of thunder were heard as the light got brighter and brighter. Peter, in desperation, shot a picture aimed right in the middle of the action. The sheet of glass got darker as the light emanating from the experiment got brighter. The light show got to its final performance as the light suddenly turned a bright green. The light soon disappeared, though.  stage lights were turned back on, and Dr. Banner stood there with a big smile. It faulted for a moment, before returning to a grin. “Now, the quirk will be collected. Since we don’t have any machine assistance here on the stage, I’ll have to collect it myself.” Dr. Banner took a small capsule out of his pocket and walked between the two pillars of the Quirk Accelerator. The audience immediately went into various chatter.

Pietro turned to Peter. “Hey, do you think if any of us go blind because of that, Tony Stark will pay us boatloads of money in settlements?”

“'No, we signed away our right to sue in the event of an injury. It's not like Stark would give you anything. It's better for all of us if you were blind.".” Wanda shook her head.

“It’s true.” Peter nodded.

“Aw, man, that can’t be legal can it?”

“It’s totally legal.”

“Ah, so…” Dr. Banner’s voice cut the audience’s murmuring down to silence. “Apparently, this is our first failed test.”

“Told you he was full of-” Pietro was then cut off by a swift kick to the shin, courtesy of Peter. “Ow!”

Dr. Banner walked back to the podium. “But this is to be expected with any realm of science, that is why we go back to see what went wrong here.” He clicked the clicker for the last time which resulted in the Quirk Accelerator being lowered back into the stage. “We do have various quirks in storage, but live testing hasn’t been authorized by the government yet.” He walked downstage to where the mic stood and put it back in place. “We’re getting closer to unlocking the mystery of quirks every day. Maybe one day we can even track what the very first quirk was, but for now all we can do is theorize and experiment. I apologize that this was a failure, but I’m very glad that I was able to show you our latest endeavors here at Avengers Tower.” Peter took a shot of Dr. Banner as he said this. “I hope to see some of you attend the school next yearand that I sparked a wealth of scientific curiosity within you. Thank you so much, and have a good day, everyone.”

The curtains cascaded down upon the stage, and with that, the demonstration came to end. The lights illuminated the auditorium and people got out of their seats and headed towards the exit. Some were bummed, and others were ecstatic to be in the same room as the Incredible Hulk.

Pietro snatched Peter’s camera right out of his hands. “Dude, did you get the shots?” 

Peter jumped in surprise when he realized that when he blinked, his camera was no longer there. “P-Pietro! Be careful with that!”

Pietro shot a genuine smile at Peter. Pietro was tossing the camera up and then catching it with the same hand without looking at it, showing off his dexterity. “Don’t worry, man! I’m the most careful person in the world.” 

Wanda crossed her arms. “You literally broke a plate at dinner last night.” 

“A one-time incident, won’t happen again.” Pietro tossed the camera up again and waited for it to come back down, but it never did. “Wait, what the hell?”

“Interesting camera you got there, Maximoff. I’m surprised you could afford something like this.” 

Pietro groaned as he recognized the voice, he turned around to see Flash going through the pictures on the camera. “That was a lazy insult you had there buddy. Let me guess, did the parasite come up with that one?”

“Funny,” Flash grunted. 

Peter stood in utter fear as Flash held his camera. The phrase, Why does he have it? Why does he have it? kept repeating in his mind. This was his biggest fear. 

“Here ya go, Parker.” Flash held out the camera in front of Peter. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any weird pics of me.”

“O-okay.” Peter hesitantly reached out to grab the camera. “Thanks, Fla-“

A thud. A crack. The sound of plastic falling onto marble flooring. Glass shattered. Peter’s gaze peered downward to see his camera in pieces. 

A devious smile crawled onto Flash’s face. “Whoops.”

Peter was stunned. Did that actually just happen?

“Thompson!” Pietro grasped Flash’s shoulder and forcefully turned him around to face him. “What the fu-?!” 

A black tendril shot itself out of Flash’s body and hit Pietro square in the face. He backed up, holding his nose in pain. “Don’t touch me, you freak.”

“Pietro!” cried Wanda.

“That’s it!” Pietro pushed against his right nostril and exhaled from his nose, a clot of blood flew out of his left nostril. “I’ve been playing nice for Peter’s sake, but you just crossed the damned line, Thompson!”

“Pietro, stop this!” Wanda exclaimed with a desperate expression on her face. “Don’t fight him!”

Peter backed up against the wall of the stage. His legs quivered beneath him. A fight? Here?

“Nah, nah, sis!” Pietro rolled up his sleeves as he walked towards Flash. “This guy has been a pain in our asses for years, I’ve been wanting to put him in his place.”

Flash took his stride over to Pietro. The symbiote crawled itself onto his skin and up his neck. “Let’s do this, wuss. Show me you’re a real man and not some pathetic bitch.”

“Bring it on, douchebag.” Pietro leapt forward at Flash in less than a second. Fists flew, and the fight began.

“Pietro, no!” Wanda rushed towards the scene.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Peter muttered over and over. He curled himself into a ball. His breathing became fast and uneven. He felt light headed, too. A sensation of dread and anxiety swept up his body in a hurricane of fear. “Nononononononono.” Why did this always have to happen? Today was supposed to be a good day, for crying out loud. Why did Flash have to ruin it again? Pietro was just making it worse. He won’t be allowed back into Avengers Academy. Peter thought about his camera, and the thought alone forced him into a shaking fit. He was glued to the sight; his precious camera, it was in pieces. It used to belong to his mother. The name: Mary Fitzgerald, was written in sharpie on the side. Why did this always happen to him? Why did he bring bad luck wherever he goes? Why was he so useless? Why was he quirkless? Why am I just human? Why do I-

Peter felt a stinging pain on his right hand and slapped it. “Ow!” He looked down and his hand and saw a giant bite mark, and the corpse of the spider he just squashed. He sighed. “This day’s just getting better and better.” Perhaps the spider bite was a blessing in disguise, it broke him out of his panic attack. He sighed again and steadily began to stand back up. He started walking towards Wanda, but with every step he began to slow down. He felt as if there was a giant weight on his shoulders. His legs turned into jelly. He started to shake violently. “Wh-what’s happening to me?”

“-eter? A-e -o- oka-?” 

Is that Wanda’s voice?

“W-ah! B-o yo- goo-?”

Pietro?

“Y-! Wa-cr-ler! Th- -ck’s th- ma-er?!”

Flash?

His vision started to become blurry, and darkness crept in from the edges of his eyes. “Wanda, I… I don’t feel so good.” Peter lost all control, and immediately lost consciousness as he hit the ground. 

“Peter?!”

To be continued…

[too-many-baes]

That Couple

Pairing: fem!reader x Peter Maximoff

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count: 1.6K

Request: I just found your blog and read for stories in a row, you are so good xxx Can I please request a Peter Maximoff x fem!reader super fluff in which they have been going steady for years but they still behave like cute couples in the honeymoon phase and everybody else around is annoyed and ask for advices at the same time? xxx - by Anon

A/N: I hope this is fluffy enough for you Anon! Thank you for your request! (also I kinda loved writing squad convo’s with the X gang)

On a seperate note - it’s been brought to my attention that a lot of my works (mainly my Peter M. ones, but most of the work I’ve posted) do not show up under their tags. I would usually never ask, but on the off chance you read my work and happen to like it, a way you could help me out would be by reblogging my work. Otherwise there’s not really a way for my writing to reach other people. Obviously this is completely optional and you are absolutely not obligated to do so, but if you enjoyed it enough it would been a lot to little ole’ me. Hugs and kisses xxx

Masterlist     Requests Open

                                                      **********

The quiet hum of the television. The dim light of the fire. Peter’s strong arms snaked around your waist as you lean your head on his shoulder from your spot on his lap. This is how you wish you could spend all of your time, engulfed by the boy that makes everyday a new adventure. The boy who brightens up your life just by being at your side. When you were with Peter it felt like nobody else existed, it was just you and him and everything was perfect.

Without warning Peter starts tickling your waist. You are helpless to do anything but squirm and laugh as you’re totally trapped within his grip. You writhe and laugh, pleading with your boyfriend to stop.

“You guys, do you mind?” Scott’s voice prompted Peter to stop but not before giving your waist a final squeeze. You had almost forgotten Scott was even in the room. In fact, all of the young X-Men were. It was movie night which brought all of you down into the shared living space. Kurt was seated beside you on the couch, and although he was too polite to say anything, he had a clearly irritated look on his face from being kicked by your flailing feet.

“Sorry Scott, sorry Kurt.”

“You’re such a party pooper man.” You and Peter spoke in unison, showcasing your different dispositions. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have what we have babe.” He says into your ear, causing another giggle to bubble from your throat.

“Not deaf Peter.” Scott grumbles from his spot on the sofa neighbouring the two seater you and Peter were on. “I also have a girlfriend”, he says raising the hand joined with a less than interested Jean’s, “in case you forgot.”

You and Peter weren’t listening, having already retreated into your bubble again. Scott rolled his eyes at you both, not that you could tell through his glasses. Despite the teasing and the annoyance, Scott couldn’t help but admire what you two have. Looking at you no one would guess you’d been together for years. In fact, when you’d first gotten together your peers in the mansion had speculated amongst themselves that it would be a fling and nothing more.

“I dunno Ororo, it just feels like we’re always going to be like this” you remember musing to your friend. “That’s what they all say Y/N.” Despite all their doubt and bets on when you’d end you had proved them all wrong. You never stopped holding hands down the hallway. You never stopped placing kisses on the others cheeks whenever you could. Most importantly, you’d never left your honeymoon phase, every week passing feeling as though you were reliving your first week together over and over. Your friends were outwardly sarcastic and snide about your ‘too good to be true’ relationship, but inwardly they were happy for you, if not puzzled. How did you two do it?

“Am I sneaking in tonight?” You whisper to Peter as you make your way upstairs, the movie you had paid no attention to now over. “Of course. Give it an hour, Scott should be snoring by then.” You kiss his cheek closest to you, his cheeky grin making the apples of his cheek prominent. This has been your little habit of late. You’d wait until Scott was fast asleep, slink into bed to cuddle with Peter, and there you’d stay until the gentle morning rays awoke you with the reminder you’d have to return to your own room, lest you should be caught in the act.

You were smiling at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth in the communal girl’s bathroom, already counting down the minutes until you’d be in Peter’s arms again. His head resting atop yours and his lips pressing light kisses on anywhere he could reach; the memories and anticipation causing butterflies to take flight in your stomach like a school girl with a crush. You guess in some ways you were. Was it lame to say you had a crush on your boyfriend? Maybe. But who cares? Certainly not you.

“Hey Y/N?” Jean’s voice pulls you out of your daydream. “Can I ask you something?” She queries as she washes her hands. Your nod prompts her to continue, “You and Peter... How do you do it?”

“What do you mean?” Your words barely make a coherent sentence past the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. “You know what I mean”, she’s reluctant to say what she’s thinking, the confused look on your face forcing her to, “how are you guys still so happy after so long?” She’s embarrassed, her eyes darting all around the bathroom. You spit out your toothpaste before answering, deeming a clear voice was probably necessary for this unexpected conversation.

“Are you and Scott-” “No no, we’re fine it’s not that”, she interrupts, “it’s just we’re still new. I want what you guys have when me and Scott have been together for that long.” The two were still a relatively fresh couple of the mansion, only having been dating five months by this stage. Honestly, you don’t know how to answer her question. You didn’t think you did anything, you were just happy. “I mean, there’s no magic rule we follow or anything...” you don’t know what to tell her without making her want to vomit in her mouth. “Just don’t take him for granted. Appreciate the other person for who they are and let yourself be happy. Don’t let little things get between you, that’s all we do”, you surmise with a shrug of your shoulders. The flush of a toilet and opening of a stall makes you realise that Ororo was in the room the whole time.

“Good thing I’m not lactose intolerant”, she says washing her hands, “otherwise I’d be even sicker than I already feel.” Despite her words there was a smile plastered on her face, making Jean snigger and you shrug. “Well consider yourself lucky”, you say as you exit, toothbrush in hand, “that was me going light on the cheese.”

Time tics by slowly as you wait, minutes seemingly taking hours as you wait for the small digital clock to flick it’s digits over to 11:00pm, the time that would ensure Scott and your roommate Ororo were both asleep. The soft breathing coming from the other side of the room indicates you were safe on your end, and when the clock finally ticked over you were gone, stepping softly and silently down the hallway to Peter’s room. You stealthily open and close the door without making a sound. The dark proves no obstacle as you make your way to his bed, having done it so many times now you’re sure you could make the journey blindfolded.

“What took you so long?” He’s made that joke enough times that you really shouldn’t laugh, yet you just can’t help yourself as you slide into his waiting arms. “Traffic was crazy”, you say as you snuggle down, his arms securing their permanent position around your waist as he kisses your shoulder blade. You and Peter loved to spoon. While sometimes Peter enjoyed being the little spoon, most of the time you happily took that position, just like tonight. You take a moment to enjoy the mere feeling of being snuggled next Peter, as you usually do, the butterflies still in flight within your stomach now mixed with the little exhilaration at the idea you could get caught.

“So Jean asked me an interesting question on the bathroom today.” You have your whispering down to a fine art. While you were sure that a bomb could go off and Scott’s snoring would still continue, it wasn’t a chance you overly wanted to take. You move your face to see his hovering over your shoulder, his eyebrow arched suggestively, earning a small flick upon his nose. “Nothing like that you pervert”, he rolls his eyes at your name calling, “she was asking how we were so happy”, you regale.

“That’s funny”, you widen your eyes a little in intrigue to prompt him on, “Kurt asked me the same thing in the guy’s bathroom.” You look at each other in the eyes, flicking back and forth between each pupil. You both crack at the same time, letting your shared giggles fill the air around you. You both encouraged the other to stop, but nothing quelled your laughs except time to let yourselves calm down. “What’d you tell him?” Your curiosity almost too much to bear. “Uh-uh”, he tsks, “ladies first.” You roll your eyes playfully yet oblige his request regardless, recounting every sentiment you had passed on to the girls. “Your turn.” You wriggle around in his arms to face him, eager to hear what he’d said.

“Nothing.” You furrow your brow in confusion. “Nothing”, you repeat in disbelief, “you had no advice for the poor guy?” He shakes his head at your misunderstanding. “I told him that when you find someone who makes you this happy”, he brushes his nose against yours briefly, “that there wasn’t anything you had to do. I do nothing every day and I reckon I’m the happiest guy under this roof.” You laugh, his words vacuous to some made your heart swell. He was right, you’d spent many a day doing nothing at all, yet you felt like you could have been a top the Eiffel Tower or in a gondola down the canals in Venice for how full and happy you felt.

“How did we become that couple?” You ponder out loud. Peter shrugs, his bottom lip slightly sticking out in wonder. “You like it don’t you?” The glint in his eyes tells you the answer before he even says it.

“Is it bad that I kind of love it?” His questions almost rhetorically.

“Not at all”, you bury yourself into his chest, ready to nod off in the secure hold he has around you before continuing, “I hope we’re always that couple.”

                                                    ************

Tagging:

@evanpeters-petermaximoff  (cause I know you’re still feigning mister Maximoff  😘)