#and ned starts screaming. loudly.

[deithe]

hc that all the starklings had a musical education befitting a High Lord's kids (flute, lute, other instruments specific to the north like drums etc), except for jon. everyone assumes 'oh it's a bastard thing-' no. ned once saw jon playing a harp 2 months into his musical education with robb and almost vomited blood. he had every harp in winterfell thrown out alà sleeping beauty.

[solaiced]

CASE 11: SUKUNA RYOMEN'S PREY.

!content!: chasing, haunting adeline refs?, outdoor sex and pred/prey play.

wc: 900

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You don't think you've had to run so much in one go, at least not since high school. But you had a damn good reason. This gigantic man with pink hair, face tats and bulging muscles started chasing you out of nowhere, and usually, you’d be flattered, except this man looked fucking dangerous.

How you survived up until now? No idea. Adrenaline, whatever, kept you on your toes, keeping the pain and discomfort away.

You hear the man chuckle darkly near your ear, and you lost footing, surprised. So now, you were held up by his hand gripping your shirt.

"Now, now, dove, you seriously thought you could out run me?" He cackles. “Funny. Well, since you lost, time to give me my beloved prize." His red eyes rake over your barely covered body, tank top because your pesky roommates (who you now wished were home, earlier) had gone out, and its matching Hello Kitty booty shorts.

You were littered with bruises, cuts and blood. Usually, you were a pretty talkative person, but fear had rendered you completely speechless. What did he mean by that?

Oh. You’d just realize what he meant. Men were disgusting.

Fuck. If his dick was proportional to his body, it would reach your lungs.

…

Holy shit. You shouldn't have looked down. You can see it poking through his pants. You should start praying now, because if he doesn't show mercy, Hell, even Satan will. You look up at him, now facing this monster, chest-to-chest, with fearful eyes.

He grins, eyes crinkling at corners and you almost swoon. He was way too charming for your own good. You'd fuck him, out of free will, being honestly honest. (Was that a correct sentence? You didn't care, he was too hot to even think.)

"Speechless? Don't be, baby, I'll make you speak in no time. So, take off your clothes, or I'll rip them off myself, and you'll have to beg me to fuck you and let you cum.”

You exhale loudly, dead panning.

“Seriously Ryo?" He drops his

smile, wondering why you broke character. What had he done wrong?

“What?” Sukuna pouts, moving both arms to wrap around your waist.

"That line's so cheesy, find something better!" You complain, letting him catch you when you fall back into his arms.

"Don't care. Take off your damn clothes." He tugs at your pink shorts, not trying to be subtle when he slaps your ass, digging

fingers in your ass cheeks as he spreads them experimentally.

He looks devastating in the dark. His red eyes are almost shining in the dark. His nose, jaw and throat, are dimly lit by the light from your porch, highlighting every harsh detail of his face. You really got lucky. You have to thank God, soon. You hear your name and look up.

"Take it off." Sukuna repeats for the third time. You heed his words, because you didn't want to beg to cum, again. He was really cruel, when he wanted to. Once your clothes are off, your nipples perked up in the cold air, he lifts you up with ease, undoing his sweat pants as he presses your back to the tree, the bark scrapping you.

"Wait, Ryomen, wait!" Your head bangs against the tree when you throw it back with a scream as Sukuna plunges into you, your slick lubing him up.

"Ugh... I got too excited. You're too tight to move." He grumbles, as if it was your fault. You wince, tightnening more as your body tries to get the big intrusion out of you.

"Fuck, little prey, relax a bit, I know you're into it, but I don't wanna hurt you…Too much. " He grins as he mutters the last part. Your head folls forward, tongue out whilst your mouth dropped open.

Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, lifting your face to see your dazed eyes.

"My perfect dove. You want me to move, mhm, yes you do. " He makes you ned, hips rocking to stimulate you. Over and over, just to drive you absolutely crazy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, whining loudly like a dog, or rather, a bitch in heat.

You were going cum too soon, fuck.

"Fuck, Fuck, you feel too good. Are you gonna cum, or what?" Sukuna growls, trying to keep his voice in check.

You stutter, hands grabbing everywhere they could for support, ending up in his hair and on his bicep. He keeps scratching you with his nails, his hands also frantically moving everywhere to either stabilize you, or feel your soft body in between his fingers.

"'M gonna–hgnh, cuh-hum!" You whine, muttering his name rapidly.

In, out, in, out, again and again, fuck it was so hard to focus on your impending orgasm when his hand settles on your clit, pinching and flicking and stroking and-!

"Ryo-hh!" You wail as you release, bringing Sukuna along. His pull-out game sucked, he thought as he slams inside of you, knocking his tip against your g-spot while ropes of cum accumulated in you and spilled out of your pretty cunt.

Sukuna's forehead was on yours as the both of you catched your breaths.

"Hey," He starts, mouth open, close to yours, "Can you still walk? I think I'm into this." He chuckles dryly while you narrow your eyes and frown.

“Okay, okay, let’s go home.”

[hoosurdaddy]

Post Covid!Stan's group; Orgasm Control.

Pairing: Post Covid!Stan x Reader, Post Covid!Kyle Broflovski x Reader, Post Covid!Eric Cartmanx reader, Post Covid!Kenny McCormick x reader. (separate).

triggers: 18+, smut, orgasm control. Post covid!

Stan would love this idea so so much. He would tie you up and kiss you all over, until you're begging and whining for him TO DO SOMETHING. This shit would laugh and mutter about how impatient you were. Even though you'd want to touch him, you couldn't cause you're tied up. Stan would love hearing you beg and beg for him to touch you, until he finally gave into you. Stan would love how wet you were from his teasing. When Stan finally thrusted into you, when you were close to reaching your orgasm, he'd stop and tell you "be a good girl, or else you'll be punished more." He'd start thrusting into you, but you couldn't focus on anything else but you're in coming orgasm, but when Stan told you weren't allowed to cum, you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to disappoint Stan. But when Stan finally groaned, "cum for me now," You came at the same time.

Kyle would so do it when he was eating you out because hes a tease. This boy would you up so much that you would be squirming and moaning underneath him then he would stop or slow down. You'd beg and beg to go faster. Kyle would be smug asf but you nedded him to finish. He'd make you wait until he turns to you and say "say my name baby." and you would be chanting Kyle's name like a prayer. It got to the point where you were about to slide your fingers down to "Kyle, please. Kyle.“ And once he was happy, he would go back to sucking your clit so hard that you would see stars. You would be pulling his hair so hard and screaming. Kyle loved it, and you ofc

Cartman would probably start fingering at dinner with his mom or somewhere public, so you had to keep it cool while you get hot and bothered, then would stop when you were close to cumming, and you'd look over at him and he would laugh in your face. No one would know why Cartman was laughing, but he would continue to tease you some more, example, massaging your thigh but not touching you, until his thumb magically brushes over your sensitive clit, you would be clutching his wrist and chewing your jaw to stop the moaning. He'd love the power he has over you and your orgasms. Until he feels the zipper of his jeans coming down.

With Kenny since he's got such a high demand job, it would be right time right place. So after his week off you would literally turn around him; "please fuck me till i can't walk" and Kenny would be :O, he'd have no idea where this all came up, but he'd pick you up and throw you up the wall, thrusting into you, not breaking eye contact with you. It would be so good. When you reached closer to your orgasm, you'd tell him "Ken.. I need to.." and he would cut you off with a kiss, "not yet. not until i say." his hands are gripping your thighs while you held his shoulder as his thrusts got rougher, you can feel your stomach tightening. You want to cum so bad, but you didn't until Kenny finally told you to cum and when you do, it feels so so good. Kenny would be whimpering your name so loudly.

rip to me.

[atopvisenyashill]

What would happen if Joffrey executed both Ned and Sansa?

I mean…a small riot happens? but maybe not? things definitely get more tense between the north and the iron throne that’s for damn sure. There’s not a reason to execute Sansa - she cooperated, she tried to help Cersei, and she’s eleven, and Ned specifically confessed to keep Sansa safe. If Joffrey says “all traitors and traitor’s blood must die” and then has eleven year old Sansa’s head lopped off in front of a crowd, i do imagine this is gonna ruffle some feathers.

There’s a few flashpoints here - the actual execution, Robb’s reaction to it, and Tywin’s reaction to Robb. Take the execution first.

there’s not a lot Ned can do in this situation but if Joffrey is stupid enough to say he’s going to kill them both, Ned is not going to willingly walk to his death. He’s gonna start screaming that Joffrey is a bastard born of incest, or he’s going to insist that Sansa is innocent and he never told anyone of his treason, but either way he’s gonna get the crowd riled up and start acting up to get Joffrey to change his mind, and let us remember how recent it was that a stark father pleaded for the life of his child and a stark child pleaded for the life of their father In This Very King’s Landing. If this becomes A Whole Big(ger) Scene, that’s bad. If Joffrey kills Ned and THEN says “actually bring Sansa up here too”  - and doesn’t Sansa pass out at some point after Ned is killed?? - what does he do here? Has her woken up so he can kill her? has her executed while she’s passed out or heaving and sobbing and saying she never betrayed him and she loves him? I don’t think Joffrey has enough reason to execute her, and if Ned, Sansa, or both are yelling and pleading as they’re held down and executed, it’s gonna give a lot of people flashbacks. He can do it, of course, but I do think there will be some hesitancy, maybe some arguing, and probably some loudly expressed opinions. and meanwhile Arya is watching all of this happen with Yoren. What is KL going to even look like after this? by the time Tyrion gets there, what’s happened without Sansa there? Dontos is dead. Littlefinger has to go back to fixating on Catelyn. Joffrey has started sexually abusing random maids and ladies because he has had no Sansa outlet for his temper. They can’t hold onto staff because Joffrey put Sansa’s head on a spike and won’t take it down and it’s freaking people out. Cersei and Joffrey keep having knock out fights in public over what to do about Jaime. Joffrey is devolving much faster here, and Jaime’s life hangs in the balance. 

Then there’s Robb’s reaction to whatever the hell happens in this scenario. He has just captured Jaime, and remember Cersei was nervous about Joffrey killing Ned bc Robb might kill Jaime in reprisal. If Joffrey executes Sansa? I think without Sansa as a hostage, Robb gets more reckless on the whole. I don’t think he’ll do anything stupid - nor would the lords at Riverrun agree to anything they thought was stupid - but Rickard Karstark and Edmure Tully as well as several other lords, are pushing for Jaime to be killed. He’s not fighting to save anyone at the capital anymore; this has strictly become a rebellion. I’m sure the Lannisters would try to lie about having Arya but Robb has Jaime, he has Riverrun, he has the North, he has everything to lose, and the Lannisters have no bargaining chip. Even if you assume battles and tactics stay completely the same, would Catelyn release Jaime in this scenario, if she knows Sansa is dead, and they have zero proof Arya is alive and zero explanation for her disappearance? I think it’s more likely she’s either continuing to work as an envoy, praying she’ll get word of Arya from someone if only she keeps asking and searching, or somehow in contact with Tyrion, trying to get more information on what may have happened. It’s possible she still gets herself in trouble, but is she going to just randomly set Jaime free? No, not without proof Arya is alive. Robb could choose to use Jaime in his terms - acknowledge me as King in the North and of the Trident, get your people out of the Riverlands, agree to these borders, and I’ll give you Jaime back - or give into the anger of the people around him and send Cleos Frey back to KL with Jaime’s head and a note that says fuck you and your family. Even if Stannis and Renly are still acting dumb (likely), and Catelyn comes back with Brienne and a wild story, does Robb just send her back out as an envoy to someone else? I mean potential shadow baby assassins notwithstanding, Jaime’s presence at Riverrun (or death to lord over everyone) is useful for Robb here. 

(I keep dancing around Arya because - is Yoren unable to stop her from straight up storming the execution, if Sansa gets brought out? In the commotion of whatever scene is happening, does Arya get lost? Get caught? Get hurt? Are there more guards out looking for her because she’s the only chance Cersei has of trading for Jaime now? Can she even get out of KL? Is Yoren more desperate to hand her off quickly now that he’s seen Sansa get executed? Lots of factors here!) 

Then there’s Tywin’s reaction to Robb. Jaime may or may not have been executed but he’s certainly in a much more perilous situation. Even with Roose helping to sabotage shit (would Roose decide this is the time to enter his villain era or would he figure joffrey is too much of a risk, and bide his time a bit more??), even if Robb still sends Theon with the exact same deal, at the exact same time, and that happens the exact same way, Tywin has to take into account that Jaime is a hostage in Riverrun when he gets to king’s landing to scheme the red wedding up, OR he gets to King’s Landing ready to scheme the wedding up and devices something 100x more brutal because Robb killed Jaime. Lannister dynamics are WILDLY different here with Jaime not coming back with Brienne, too!! 

Uh anyways the point is I think most everything in Westeros is affected by this.

My opinion is that KL becomes much more stressful to live in, because Joffrey has to crack down on the population, because they didn’t appreciate him killing Sansa, and also Cersei is hysterically angry with him, Tyrion has a much harder time getting control of the city back, the Tyrells are much more nervous about negotiations with Littlefinger in Bitterbridge, and Catelyn does not set Jaime free, which puts both the Iron Throne and the North/Riverlands in a weird ass position. 

[azazelflare]

Sent Back To Love You Again Chapter Two

Catelyn hugs her now grown daughter as the men talk strategy and what to do about the couple. Jaimie slams his remaining hand on the table and starts to get angry at the words the two fathers were saying. 

“We will marry in the godswood at dusk tonight. If that gives you enough time to plan what to do about Joffrey and the others.” He walks out of the room and heads to his wife. She stands up and holds his head down to her chest in a mock intimate embrace. 

He breathes in and out trying to calm himself and realizes that he must get his father here so he knows that his son is marrying finally. He walks back into the room and tells the two men that they will wait until Tywin is there to give him away in the tradition of the north; also he can be told of the threat to the north. 

Jaime walks out and grabs his wife, with some protest from her parents, and walks to his chambers. He's not letting Sansa stay in that room again. 

They enter the room and start to tear at each other's clothes. She helps him take off the jerkin and trousers and he unlaces her dress. She steps out of her dress and starts to kiss him. He moans in pleasure and grips her waist. 

They release the kiss and maneuver themselves into the bed. He starts to kiss his way down to her womanhood and she moans and keens for him to continue. He finally gets to her clit and he gives it a hard suck. She screams out in pleasure and grips his hair begging for more. He stops and moves back up her body; she grips his shaft and guides it into her. They both moan loudly as they feel each other again for the first time since the war against the night king. He pumps into her and continues to do so until he spends himself inside of her hoping she gets pregnant during this time of peace. He knows she isn't finished yet when she flips them over. She straddles him and grinds into his dick. She puts the freshly hard cock inside of her and starts to bounce on it. She doesn't let him touch she knows if he does he really wants to be punished. She squeals and squirts on him; he finishes again inside her and they both nearly pass out from exhaustion. 

They scoot together and Sansa curls up against him as they both fall asleep for the night. 

BANG BANG 

They jump awake as Jaime rushes to get his pants on he opens the door to see Ned Stark with ice next to him “Hello Ned, What can we help you with this lovely morning.” “Where the fuck is my daughter Lannister?” Jaime turns around and checks to see if Sansa is dressed and opens the door a little bit further. “Sansa, Love your father’s here. Never thought I would be able to say that.”  Ned looks shocked at his daughter and soon son-in-law. “ We, uh, need you both in the solar. Ned says rubbing the back of his neck. He leaves and lets the couple finish getting dressed. They walk to the solar and sit in front of the king. Robert explains what they will be doing once Tywin gets here, starting with taking Jaime’s white cloak and ending with the marriage. Sansa leaves and talks to her mother about a dress. She wants to use black like the dress she wore for her last and final wedding since it was her only dress at the time but it made her look like the winter queen she was. Her mother looks concerned about the black since the stark colors were gray and white. Sansa seems very adamant about the black and so she goes to find black fabric.

[werewolfin]

dreams are something your subconscious tries to tell you

the earliest part i remember is trying to turn in homework, only to find that the rain had apparently seeped through the top of my (fully zipped) backpack during the walk up and ruined a massive textbook i needed for class. the homework isn't even done; this is a sheet explaining i did do it, in the teacher's writing, like i stole it off their desk, from another dream of doing the assignment.

"can you afford to replace this [text]? it's $50," the amalgamation of every female english teacher i've ever had asks. i've seen regular books go for that much but never school textbooks.

"yeah?" i respond because at the approximate time frame my family had steady income.

as class is otherwise setting up, i realize i'm missing my shoes and one sock. i steal one (teal, silk, ballerina-style) sock from a nearby desk cubby. i'm wearing it on the wrong foot; the bows are facing inwards rather than out. that's alright because i still got my regular sock on the other one.

dream time gets me and it is now the break between classes. i'm in the (autumn?) quad and someone who i'm supposed to know who now reminds me of ned from spiderman brings up an article about how my ex-girlfriend intends to sue me.

i've never had a girlfriend let an ex but okay, whatever. if she's an ex she's probably got me blocked everywhere. i don't know why this is an article but i start thinking about why it might be. i internally consult my mental soap opera manual.

next scene is me coming back to english class and teacher putting a very round bright green breathing mask on my face. it's not giving me more air, it's trying to vacuum out bad air from my lungs.

"breathe out as deep as you can," which i'm doing even as the teacher explains. i get the sense i probably did this that morning before class and dream time doesn't allow me to remember.

the air that comes out looks like the streaks frequent smokers leave in their clothes. pale dusty yellow-brown in smoke form.

teacher asks if i even brushed my teeth this morning to look like this and i respond that of course i did, idk why it looks that dirty. teacher says i must've (sinned?) done something i shouldn't have.

i immediately confess to looking up an ex on instagram because of an article about being sued (even though i didn't, it was just offered to me). suctioned air is now clear. i get the feeling i'm not only blocked but also under restraining order. i subsequently confess the sock stealing but no one pays it any attention.

next thing i know, it's dark outside the bungalow classroom and there's sound like someone is being beaten by a crowd of people. after a few seconds i recognize my own voice as the one being beaten. my (probably now ex) girlfriend is trying to get the crowd the stop.

teacher is obligated to go outside but instead finds an ipad loudly playing audio. (upon waking, this would mean someone was filming my being beaten and doing nothing; there were no doppler effects on the sounds to indicate rapid movement from recorder). as teacher comes back inside the class, the last bit of audio plays out: it's me screaming "I hate you!" and then the audio cuts.

presumably i went bugnuts and starting cracking skulls or something in retaliation. it'd explain why gf broke up and got a restraining order if the people beating me were people she knew. might even explain why she plans to sue me. doesn't explain why it's (years?) later. maybe it's just that i'm moving on.

periphery pathway lights come on around the quad, even though i've never seen a school that had them. being a bungalow/free standing building built on an accessory basketball court behind most of the school buildings, there should maybe be one singular field spotlight, not multiple tiny ankle-high lights.

i spot several ipads on the concrete at the quad's corners which is why the one by the door sounded like a surround-sound theater rather than a tinny-quality speaker.

me and the other students (mostly boys, some girls) are backing up on the wall further from the door since there are four people standing on the ramp up who are now visible from the low light.

the only door is now a walmart sliding double door which blocks nobody. these people are wearing glee-style pride shirts except they say what they're trying to do in comic sans: one says "kidnapping", another "upward mobility", a third "thesis paper". the one in front of me has one that says "ice cream banana split". i take a moment to say i like their shirt. there is no response.

they all immediately head for the other students, who in the five seconds i looked away from them have all become girls. since one shirt said 'kidnapping' i assume that's what's happening and shout, "get away from the girls!"

i expected SOMEONE to step up with me but no one did. even as i'm doing this, one girl is already being lead/pushed out the door, like i was moving in slow motion all along.

there's no one actually trying to do anything to me so i go to the door to see where everyone else is going, but all i see is a pop up tent with a bunch of elementary kids in it being ranted at by a guy in church formal clothing. what the fuck. (it's only as a i type this that i think everyone is being de-aged THEN kidnapped; i digress).

the teacher hadn't been one of the people pulled outside so i turn back inside to try to get her to help me get everyone back only to find her handing a literal baby to one of the kidnappers who is currently wrestling one of the elementary kids down to handcuff them.

in disbelief, i watch kidnapper roughly grab the baby from teacher's hands and just throw them to the floor in frustration. i lunge in a black out rage to catch them (i'm already too late) and wake up.

and this isn't even the first time i woke up in a rage this week!

THAT dream was me being in an airport with my little sister waiting for my little brothers to show up, only to see them both across the terminal with full length casts on arms and legs AND on crutches! the younger J is holding his older brother M up because J has only one arm and opposite leg in casts while M as them on all four limbs. (crutches are M's for some reason).

the flow of traffic hasn't stopped even though M is sobbing hysterically. i get closer in a hurry trying to find if someone tried to push them down going by but the only person i can make out in the crowd is an old man who is already hobbling with a cane.

i ask M and J what happened but i can't understand M through his crying and J is just shaking his head. following his line of sight I see another J but his casts are on the opposite limbs his doppelganger has.

i'm getting worked up asking who hurt them both but i'm not getting a clear answer and i wake up wanting to hit people.

[ultralightpoe]

Wretched Freak - Bucky Barnes

Description: PART ONE TO THE 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU SERIES!!!!!

Part 2 HERE 

Word Count:  1623

Warnings: cuss words 

Authors Note: I am not in love with this part, but I love what is coming. So please don’t judge based on the first part. 

“KATE BISHOP!” You scream across your house, checking your eyeliner in your nearby reflection as your bag swings from your shoulder. “IF YOU ARE NOT IN MY CAR WITHIN 2 MINUTES I AM LEAVING YOU HERE!”

“Do you really have to yell?” You mother laughs, coming in to inspect your outfit before you leave for the day, an odd look crossing her features as she took in your attire. 

She never approved of the darker look you went for, but you never really cared before, and you never would. Black nail polish and eyeliner were staples in your life, combat boots and glares were essentials. 

“Whatcha reading today?”

“Flowers in the Attic.”

“Oh? Something light and cheery then.” She teases as Kate bounds down the stairs, ponytail bouncing. 

“You stress me out in the mornings. It ruins my whole day.”

“You are going to make me late you craphead.” You snap, moving to the door with your keys swinging from your hand. “GET A MOVE ON LOSER!”

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

Avengers Highs parking lot was hectic, Yelena Belova notes as she strolls in the front doors of the school. Moving back in with her sister and her mom while her dad heads to Russia for a photography job was stressful enough, add in a new highschool and she was just about screwed. 

“Yelena! Hey!” Natasha smiles, moving to greet her at the door. Her sister had woken up early to get here for debate club, led by Mr. Fury, and it seemed that the early morning did nothing to throw off her groove. A serene smile placed on her features as she hooks elbows with the girl and begins leading her through the halls. “Alright lets see…..where to start-”

Yelena loses concentration as someone in a leather jacket knocks into her shoulder harshly in passing, snatching a prom poster down as they walk off without even looking back. “Yelena? Hey? You listening?”

“Yes.. I’m here.”

“Alright, here is the breakdown. Over here we have the jocks. Don’t speak to them unless they speak to you, better to avoid them all together. Especially their little leader Ikarus-”

“Is his name actually Ik-”

“Moving on. Over here we have the nervous geeks.” Nat smiles, bumping into a kid holding a star wars lego set. 

“S-sorry Romanoff.” He apologizes as his friend hits his shoulder. “Ned, don’t drop the set.”

“They are very scared. Don’t make any fast movements around them okay? Over here we have the science team. That is Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Co Captains but Tony takes most the control. Over there the debate team, the friend I told you about is over there. Hey Clint! But avoid Sharon Carter. We hate her, took my captain spot when I was out with the flu. I’ll get my revenge at some point.”

“Got it.” Yelena mumbles, shaking her head.

“Sweet athletes. Sam Wilsona and Steve Rogers. Um. oh! Okay! Now over her-”

“Oh my…..” Yelena gasps as the prettiest girl in purple passes by her, laughing at something her friend says. “Who is that and how do I get in her group?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“She is beautiful.”

“Kate Bishop. Forget it though. Everyone knows the Bishop sisters are not allowed to date.” 

“Yeah sure. Whatever.”

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

Mr. Fury was in a bad mood as always. 

Your foot taps on the floor beneath you as you wait for him to finish his speech on the novel he was forcing the class to read. John Walker breathing through his mouth behind her as loudly as he possibly could. 

If only you could kick him like you kicked Ultron last semester. 

“Any questions on shakespeare oh so lovely words?” Fury mutters, dropping the book onto the desk.

“I have a question-” You smile, raising your hand which has the man rolling his eye and mumbling a sarcastic response. “When are we going to read something actually worth our time?”

“I’ll be so interested in knowing what the freak Y/n considers worth her time.” John snarks. 

“Anything with a brain, and you do not qualify.” You snap and Fury smiles. 

“Both of you. Shut up. In fact, you’re both pissing me off. Out.” 

“What?!” You snap as John groans. 

“You heard me! Out!”

You roll your eyes, snatching your book bag and shoving John on your way out. 

“Ouch.”

“Bite me.”

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

The afterschool bell rings and Yelena finds herself rushing out the doors, looking for a moment to breathe as everyone does the same. 

She is just in time to see a black car nearly hit Nat on her motorcycle, the leather clad person from earlier sticking their head out to yell at her for not driving with her brain. “YOU SHOULD REMOVE IT FROM YOUR ASS BEFORE YOU START THE VEHICLE.”

With that it speeds off, followed by a red car carrying a blonde and Kate in the backseat. “Who is that?”

“That was John Walker, resident model boy.” Nat snarks as she looks over to Steve Rogers. “And the person in the first car was Kate’s freak sister Y/n.”

“Wait, the one that yelled at you was Kates sister?” 

“Indeed.” Nat laughs, starting her bike again. “Did some digging, found out that Kate is looking for a russian tutor. Had Steve give you her your number. Should be calling you tonight to ask.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” Nat laughs, zooming off. 

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

The Bishop house smelled like lemongrass when both girls arrived home. Which meant their mother was in a decent mood. “Hello Y/n? Make anyone cry today?”

“Not yet. But it’s only four.” You smile, kissing her cheek as you make your way through to the kitchen. “Anything come for me in the mail?’

“Just a package from Eternal Academ-”

“What?!” You blanch, running for where your mother keeps the mail. Your eyes zero in on the large packet and you rip into it within moments. It took two seconds for your eyes to skim the words before you were a screaming mess. “I GOT IN! I GOT IN!”

“Got in where?” Your mother asks the same time your sister enters the room.

“University of Eternals.” You smile, as your mothers face dropped. 

“I thought we agreed you would go to Hydra University ….. Like I did?”

“No. You agreed.  I listened.” You smile and just before she was about to argue you snap towards your sister. “Ask you Kate got a ride from today.”

“A ride? Who? Who gave you a ride?”

“No one.” She mumbles, flipping you off as your mother glares. 

“The airhead John Walker.” You answer, moving to sit on the counter as she rolls her eyes.  

“He’s not an airhead. He is going to be a general in the military one day.”

“Oh, wow. Good for him.” You snark. 

“Hey. Katherine. We have rules-”

“That are so unfair! Everyone else at school is dating mom!”

“Not me.”

“Because your a wretched freak.” She snaps which has you laughing. 

“Katherine, that is enough.”

“No! You’re so overprotective and you’re ruining my life-”

“Fine. New rule.” Your mother announces which has your sister shutting up in an instant. “You’ll get to date…….. When Y/n does.”

“WHAT?!” Kate yells as you laugh, watching your mother disappear to her office. Your sister whirls around to look at you, a deadly glare in her eyes as she watches you. “Can’t you get a fake boyfriend or something?”

“So you can date that loser John Walker? Unlikely.”

“YOU SUCK!”

“And you swallow.” You answer, walking out of the room. 

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

“Mr. Barnes. In my office once more. How lovely.” Agatha Harkness mumbles as he shrugs, rolling his eyes a bit. 

“You made the appointment.” It was true, Agatha requested to see him before school to talk about the most recent incident in the cafeteria. 

“You shoved a kids face in his mashed potatoes.” 

“At least they tasted good.” He mumbles, taking a seat. 

“Listen. I know you’ve had a rough time. With the accident and the family loss. But if you continue on this path then you’ll get expelled. Okay? Okay. Now leave so I can get back to work.”

“You have fun with the horny witches in westview.” He snarks, storming out of the office.

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

Yelena Belova nervously taps her pencil on the library table as she waits for Kate to show up for their tutor session. 

The brunette lands on the chair beside her, a whirlwind of excitement as she looks to you. “Alright. I have to be out of here in 10 minutes, Gwen and Flash are having a super argument right now and I cannot miss that.”

“Oh! Um- Okay.” Yelena mumbles, blushing a bit. “I was thinking we start with the basics. Pronouns and starter words.”

“Right now?”

“Well it doesn’t have to be right now. Maybe over like dinner, some mac and cheese?”

“Are…….are you asking me out?” Kate smiles, a surprised look coating her features at Yelena’s boldness. 

“Um- Yeah? I know you apparently can’t go out-”

“That rule changed. I can date when my sister dates.”

“Really? Then we definitely can do mac-”

“Problem. My sister doesn’t date. A wretched freak.”

“I noticed. Why is that?”

“No clue. She actually used to be loads of fun and super popular but she switched when she was a freshman. No one knows why.”

“Well I am sure there is someone at this school who would like someone like that…..”

“You think you could find someone who would do that?” Kate asks, a smile coating her features. 

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And you would do that for me?” Kate asks, a flirty tilt to her voice. 

“Without question.” Yelena blushes.

This would be an easy task, wouldn’t it?

[waitimcomingtoo]

Give Yourself a Try

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers

Synopsis: you and Peter hate each other, which becomes a problem when you’re given a group project

Part two and three

Masterlist

“Good morning Ned.” You kindly greeted as you took your seat in front of Peter in your first period physics class.

“Morning Y/n.” Ned said back, gearing up for what he knew was coming.

“I really like your makeup today, Y/n.” Peter smiled as he leaned forward in his seat. “Is it hard balancing your schoolwork with your job at the circus?”

“Not at all.” You smiled sweetly at him as you turned around. “I could get you a job there if you’d like. We’ve been needing something small to feed to the lions between shows. You’d be perfect.”

“Small? Darling, you must be mistaken.” Peter kept a sickly sweet grin on. “I’m bigger than your boyfriend of the week over there.”

“Silly goose.” You scrunched your nose at him. “Harry Osborn is not my boyfriend. And just so you know, steroids are really bad for you. I’m worried about your well being.”

“I’m not on steroids.” Peter hissed, dropping the act. “Stop trying to start that rumor.”

“Why not?” You shot back. “You had no trouble spreading the rumor that I was the one who killed Herbie the hamster when we all know it was you who left the door open after cleaning his cage.”

“Are you kidding me? That was fifth grade.” He whispered harshly.

“I will never forget it.” You snapped back.

“Ahem.” The teacher cleared her throat as she stared at you and Peter with an annoyed expression. This was an everyday occurrence in her class, and any other class you had with Peter. You hated each other and everyone knew it. You and Peter stopped arguing and slumped in your seats, giving each other one last look of disdain.

“Instead of a final exam this semester, I’ll be giving you a final project.” The teacher continued. “You’ll be working with one other student.”

“Nice. We can finally present our work on quantum physics.” Peter excitedly high fived Ned.

“Can you guys reschedule your virgin convention for later?” You asked seriously. “I’m trying to listen.”

“Because of the disappointing grades on the last project, I will be assigning your partners.” The teacher went on.

“Don’t worry.” Peter whispered to Ned again. “We could still end up together. We got an A last time so she knows we work well together.”

“We got an A last time.” You mimicked his voice and moved your hand like a puppet.

“Yeah. An A.” Peter said as he leaned forward in his seat. “You know, like your bra size.”

“What did you just say to me?” You snapped as you whipped around. He had on his infamous shit eating grin that you hated.

“Young man, can you please stop interrupting our conversation?” He said as he held up a hand. Your jaw dropped at the insult, face growing warm with anger. You decide not to give him the satisfaction of an insult exchange and turned around in your seat. Your teacher began to list off the partners for the projects.

“Leeds, Stacy.” She called out. “You’ll be working together.”

“Sorry, man. But also, not sorry man.” Ness frown quickly turned into a smile. “Gwen, over here!”

“Aw.” You snickered as you turned around on your chair. “I feel bad for whoever gets stuck with you now. That poor, unfortunate soul.”

“Parker. L/n. You’ll be working together.”

“What?” You and Peter screamed in unison. You gave each other an angry look before looking at your teacher in protest.

“You two are always holding up my class and I’m tired of it.” She held up a hand. “This project will teach you how to finally get along and stop disrupting me while I teach.”

“Mrs. Avery, with all due respect, I can feel myself getting more disruptive already.” You told her.

“I think that’s your STD.” Peter mumbled.

“You two need to learn how to be professional and amicable.” She ignored your protest. “You won’t always like your peers. But you will always have to collaborate with them at some point.”

“I understand that.” You assured her. “But if we do this project together, my fist is going to collaborate with Peters face.”

“That’s a threat.” Peter piped up. “I’d like to file a report.”

“And I’d like to take that report and shove it up your-“

“Enough.” Mrs. Avery cut you off. “You will be working together and that is final.”

You both shrunk in your seats, fuming with anger over the teachers decision. You didn’t cause any more disruptions throughout the class and quickly left once the bell rang.

Peter saw you at your locker, which was coincidentally next to his locker, spraying some perfume on.

“Darling!” Peter exclaimed as he stood next to you. “So good to see you! You know how much I love when you hog all the locker space and make the entire hallways smell like perfume.”

“Why, thank you.” You touched your hand to your heart. “As I’m sure you know, some of us prefer to smell like things other than Neosporin and baby powder. After all, that’s your signature scent and I’d just hate to step on your toes.”

“I didn’t know. Thank you for opening your gigantic mouth and telling me!” Peter said through a toothy grin.

“Oh, Peter.” You laughed airily. “You’re very welcome, you sad sack of shit.”

“Classy.” Peter faked a smile as he opened his locker. “Do you want to come over to my house after school to work on the project? I live walking distance from here.”

“What? No.” You scoffed. “You’re not getting me to a secondary location. We’ll work in the library.”

“Actually, we won’t, because it’s closed for maintenance.” He replied with a tight smile.

“I wish you were closed for maintenance.” Yoh grumbled as you zipped up your bag.

“Hilarious.” He fake laughed loudly. “Are you coming over or not?”

“Not.” You said in disgust. “I don’t know you or your parents. You might try to kill me as a part of some Parker family cult ritual.”

“My parents are dead.” He told you, unamused. “It’s just me and my aunt.”

“Is your aunt a cult leader?” You asked.

“No.” He groaned.

“Cult member?”

“No. All she does is cheat at cross world puzzles and shop at Whole Foods.” He said.

“So you lied.” You slammed your locker and looked at him. “She’s in the Whole Foods cult.”

“Can you try not to be difficult for two minutes, please? We need to get this project done.”

“Jokes on you, Parker.” You folded your arms. “Difficult is my lowest setting.”

“Ooo. Scary.” He mocked you. “What’s your highest? Because I’m pretty sure I saw it last Tuesday when your backpack got stuck on the door handle and you decided to blame me.”

“I know that was your fault. And I go from difficult to hooligan to the step mom from Parent Trap.” You shrugged.

“And they said women aren’t funny.” Peter replied as he slapped his knee. You raised an eyebrow at him, judging him for his material.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“You’re gonna be sorry.” You told him. “Where do you live again?”

“Waking distance from here. I said that less than five minutes ago.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Well I didn’t hear that because I tune you out when you speak. You know, like most people do.” You said sweetly.

“Wow, you’re so funny.” Peter said sarcastically. “If I meet you here at the end of the day, will you come home with me?”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I’ll go home with you. But if I start detecting any cult shit going on, I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you later.”

~

“Are you ready to go?” Peter asked after the last bell had rang. You shouldered your backpack and shut your locker, feeling unusually anxious around him. You could deal with Peter for 40 minutes at a time when all you did was trade insults. Something about walking to his home together and spending time alone knocked the confidence right out of you.

“I’m ready.” You nodded.

“What, no insult?” He asked. “No mocking of my voice?”

“We were assigned each other as partners so we could learn to be civil, right?” You shrugged. “I guess I’m just mature enough to give it a try.”

“There she is.” Peter smiled as you began to walk in the direction of his apartment. “There’s my girl.”

You looked to the side when you heard him say this, unsure of how it made you feel. You often called each other pet names ironically, but this felt different. There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you and it was clouding your judgment.

You let Peter do all the talking as you walked home, thankful that he lived so close to the school. He spewed out ideas for the project the entire elevator ride up and didn’t stop until you were standing outside his bedroom door.

Peter stopped talking and opened the door, gesturing for you to go inside. You made a face at him before walking, staying in one spot as he shut the door and sat down. You were frozen as you looked around his room, not liking how human it made him. He had notes from classes you didn’t have with him strewn around and an open first aid kit on his desk.

“You can sit.” He chuckled when he noticed how stiff you were.

“I’m scared to.” You admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly. Something about sitting on this boys bed with him seemed finalizing, like you’d be opening a door you couldn’t close.

“Just sit down.” He repeated. “I didn’t rig the place with boobytraps, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s what someone who rigged the place with booby traps would say.” You replied as you took a hesitant seat on his bed.

“There. Isnt that nice?” He asked sarcastically.

“No.” You said immediately. “Am I the first girl to ever sit on your bed?”

“Psh. No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes ma’am.” You mumbled.

“Whatever.” He replied. “What do you want to do the project on?”

“How about micropenises?” You suggested. “You won’t even have to do any research.”

“Haha. So funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You are so annoying it’s actually impressive.”

“Please.” You laughed. “You so have a crush on me.”

“What?” His entire face went red. “No I don’t.”

“No I don’t.” You mimicked his voice. “Yes you do. That’s why you’re up my ass all the time.”

“That makes no sense.” He scoffed.

“It makes total sense.” You insisted. “You know I’ll never like you back, so you made me hate you. That way, you still get to talk to me all the time. Genius, really. I applaud you.”

“That’s a nice little fantasy you’ve created for yourself. Is that what you tell yourself to help you fall asleep?” He teased you.

“Yep.” You smiled brightly. “Right after I finger blast myself to the thought of you in your Catholic schoolboy sweaters.”

“Oh my God.” His cheeks turned even redder at your inappropriate joke.

“And they said women aren’t funny.” You used his words from earlier.

“They were right.” He said, making you laugh.

“God, I love it when you talk down to me.” You fanned yourself. “Can you tell me how to change a tire?”

Peter began to laugh as well, looking at you as you both laughed. You quickly stopped laughing when you realized you just gave him a genuine smile and looked away.

“Do you want to do the project on tensile strength?” You suggested to break the tension. “I know you’re weirdly into that.”

“How’d you know?” He wondered.

“You almost popped a boner when we talked about in last month.” You teased him. “It’s just rope, dude.”

“It’s not just rope. It’s the force-“

“-the force required to pull something until it breaks. I know.” You finished his sentence. “I’m smart too, you know.”

“Oh.” He was dumbfounded that you knew something he was interested in. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Women use brain sometime. Woman say smart thing like man.”

Peter laughed again, realizing you were actually kind of funny when you wanted to be.

“I’m not a misogynist, you know.” Peter said after a beat. “You don’t have to make jokes like that. I may not like you, but I respect you.”

“You respect me?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“I respect all women. The strongest person I know is my Aunt. Plus, I’ve still never met anyone who was as smart as my mom. I wouldn’t be half the man I was if it weren’t for the women who raised me.” He shrugged. “But it would be ignorant and naive of me to only respect woman who are related to me in some way. So I respect all of them unless they give me a reason not to.”

“Have I given you a reason not to?” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Not yet.” He chuckled to himself. “You’re annoying, but you’re brilliant. I know you would never admit this, but we’re basically the same person. You’re just more extroverted so you have more friends and popularity. And you’re smart but you don’t make that your whole personality, so it impresses more people when you let your intelligence show.”

Your body language shifted when you realized he was actually a nice guy. He clearly paid attention to you and was impressed by what he saw. You didn’t say anything, so Peter kept going.

“People lean in to listen when you start speaking instead of tuning you out.” He brought up your insult from earlier, and you felt bad. You didn’t realize he admired you in any way and you felt guilty for always teasing him. Peter’s kept his eyes down, playing with his fingers to distract himself.

“You’re…you’re kind of every thing I wanted to be.” He said quietly. You smiled softly at him, but he didn’t see it. It was the first time you had a nice moment with Peter, and you didn’t hate it. You could tell he was beginning to panic for sharing so much, so you reached forward and tilted his chin up to look at you. His wide eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile.

“How did your parents die?” You asked quietly, immediately ruining the moment.

“Damn.” Peter pulled away with a shocked laugh. “When was your first period?”

“All right. I get your point.” You rolled your eyes. “That was a little abrupt.”

“You’re telling me.” He teased. You sat in silence for a moment, neither of you sure where to go from there. You knew Peter was still processing you touching his face, so you talked first.

“My parents are dead too.” You said without looking up at him.

“They are?” He asked, scooting a little closer to you on the bed.

“Yeah.” You looked up and gave him a sad smile. “But if you think we’re gonna take a turn and fall in love because we have similar trauma, you’re wrong. I can’t stand orphans.”

“But you’re an orphan.” He reminded you.

“And?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “I have a feeling I won’t be getting through to you.”

“Probably not.” You agreed. “Tell me more, though. Did your parents die doing something cool?”

“I don’t really know.” He shrugged. “It was a plane crash. That’s all I’ve been told.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Sounds lame.”

“What?”

“A plane crash?” You raised your eyebrow. “That’s so boring. Yawn.”

“Excuse me?” He laughed in shock again. “Fine. How did your parents die?”

“Firefighters.” You said proudly. “Died saving three children.”

“Wow.” Peter sat back, stumped.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I was one of them.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widened as he fought the urge to hold your hand.

“No. I’m fucking with you.” You began to laugh as he let out a groan.

“Why would you do that to me?” He whined. “You had me, for a minute there.”

“What can I say? I’m an actor.” You flipped your hair ostentatiously.

“What actually happened?” He wondered. You stopped smiling and bit your bottom lip.

“Drunk driver.” You told him. He didn’t fight the urge this time and reached over to take your hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, wondering if you should pull away or not. On the one hand, he was your enemy. But that didn’t make his warmth any less inviting.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “That must have been really hard on you.”

“You know the feeling, don’t you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I do.” He nodded. “And I know how much it sucked to not have someone who knew how it felt. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. Neither of us do.”

You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it, not wanting to ruin the moment again. The guy holding your hand was not the same guy who sat behind you in physics. This guy was someone you actually liked.

“I might have misjudged you, Peter Parker.” You laughed shyly. “You might not be as unbearable as I remembered.��

“And you might not be the frigid bitch I thought you were.” He matched your tone.

“Watch it.” You warned.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“You were right.” You said after a beat. “We are pretty much the same person. I never realized that before.”

“Maybe that’s why we don’t get along.” He shrugged, rubbing soft circles into your hand.

“I’d be willing to give it a try, if you were.” You said sheepishly. “Who knows? I might just like you.”

“You want to give this a try?” He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Why not?” You shrugged. “What do I have to lose?”

“Okay.” He nodded eagerly. “Then we’ll try.”

“Cool.” You smiled.

“Cool.” He said before leaning in for a kiss. Your eyes widened as his fluttered shut, making you realize you were on different pages. His lips made contact with yours for a few seconds before you pushed him off.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Kissing you?” He asked in confusion as hurt flashed in his eyes.

“Why the hell would you do that?” You exclaimed, still in shock. You got off the bed and backed away from him, trying to process what just happened.

“You said we were giving it a try!” He was shouting now too, but not out of anger. “I thought we were finally admitting that we like each other.”

“I meant giving friendship a try! I never said anything about a relationship.” You shouted. You quieted down when you saw the upset look on his face. “You... you like me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” He said quietly. “I-I thought you knew. You said it before and I just…I thought you knew.”

“Peter, I was joking when I said all that stuff.” You calmed down and sat back on his bed. “I didn’t actually think you liked me.”

“Oh.” He blinked a few times before looking down. “I…I do.”

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You reached for his hand again but his withdrew it.

“No, it’s my fault.” He shook his head and got off the bed. “I misunderstood the situation.”

“Peter, wait.” You caught him by the wrists and pulled him back down to the bed. He sat down again but looked anywhere but at you. You could see that his eyes were glassy so you put a hand on his face.

“You were right.” His voice wavered. “I did like you and I did think you’d never like me back. That’s why I always tease you. I just wanted you to talk to me.”

“Pete.” You whispered, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be here right now. I’ll email you my part of the project and-“

You cut him off by wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You both had your eyes closed this time and it lasted much longer. Your lips moved against his slowly and you could feel how inexperienced he was. Even so, it was perfect. You pulled away after a minute and looked into his eyes, feeling better now that there were no traces of sadness in them.

“You kissed me.” He said, dumbfounded.

“I can’t know I don’t like you back if I never give you a chance.” You shrugged as you withdrew your hand from his face.

“Well what did you decide?” He asked curiously. You puckered your lips and tilted your head, staring at him as if you were making a decision.

“I still think you’re super annoying.” You concluded.

“Okay.” Peter nodded.

“But it’s an annoying I’m willing to put up with.” You decided as you slipped your hand back into his. Peter broke out into a smile and nodded again.

“Okay.”

Tag List 🏷

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[nebulablakemurphy]

Forget Me Not Pt. 4

Summary: Y/N and MJ have been MIA for three days. Peter is desperate for answers.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Hi, it’s MJ. Leave me a message, or don’t.” Beep.

“Hey, MJ,” Peter sighs. “I don’t know what happened, I thought things were fine when you left now you won’t answer me. If you’re ignoring me can you at least let me know you’re ignoring me so I don’t worry? Call me back.”

He hangs up. It’s been three days of radio silence from Y/N and MJ. Maybe they forgot about him again. Maybe the spell reset itself and-

“Ahhh!” A startled scream from the streets below sends Peter to the window. Pushing it open and peeking his head out just in time to see a man zoom past him on a glider. It’s similar to the one Norman used as the Green Goblin.

This isn’t Norman though, the man is larger. Cackling like a maniac as he circles the building below. The jewelry store’s door is blown wide, the alarm screeching loudly. A woman with a long silver ponytail and a black cat suit is stuffing her bag full of goods.

A third party makes themselves known, creeping along the shadows with a dark suit not so different from his own. Something slightly sinister in their stance, but there is no tingle.

———————————————————————-

Y/N is shoveling fist fulls of bracelets and loose gemstones into her bag. She knows she only has a few more minutes before the police show up to bust her.

She runs as if on autopilot. She doesn’t actually want any of this. She steals it just to have.

“Don’t scream.” A voice gurgles from behind Y/N.

Naturally she doesn’t listen, the yelp of surprise is swallowed by the stranger’s hand when they press it over her mouth.

“It’s me.”

Me? Who the hell is me? Y/N struggles in their hold.

“I’m stronger than you, there’s no point in fighting.” The creature purs. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/N feels the tension release from her shoulders.

“You graduated from Midtown high school, about to start at M.I.T.”

That sounds right.

“Someone’s been messing with your head but you know me. Think hard.”

Y/N covers the intruders wrist, skating her fingers up their arms. “Michelle?” She says into the palm of her hand.

“MJ to you.” The words are soft despite the raspy, unrecognizable voice. Escaping from rows of jagged teeth.

“What is this?” Y/N asks, turning to face her. Running her finger tips over the fabric of MJ’s suit. It feels like a second skin.

“What is this?” She snaps the latex material against Y/N’s thigh.

“Touché.” Y/N frowns, she looks ridiculous.

“We gotta find Ned. We only have a couple more minutes before Peter shows up.”

“Are we not telling Peter?”

“I don’t know,” MJ shrugs. “If he’s so worried about us getting hurt that he was willing to never speak to either of us again, now’s probably not the best time.”

She’s right, Y/N nods. “What if he recognizes us?”

MJ looks down at her attire and then back to Y/N. “I think we’re good.”

They step out onto the street, turning their heads in either direction to scout the terrain.

The goblin guy is hanging out just above their heads.

“What the hell is that?”

“I think that’s Ned.” Y/N squints at him.

MJ cocks her head to the side. “Sure.”

“Hey!” A voice calls from down the pavement. “Stop right there.”

“It’s him.” Peter.

“Get Ned outta here,” MJ shoos Y/N in the opposite direction. “I’ll entertain Spider-Man.”

Y/N nods, taking off toward Ned’s shadow. Waving her arms beneath him like she’s signaling for a rescue. “I need a ride.”

From the board Ned spots her, swooping low and snatching her up like bird with a worm.

“Thanks man.” Y/N says a bit breathlessly.

“What do you want, kitty?” This is definitely not the Ned she’s known for years. He would never, ever call her that.

“To get you out here.”

“You’re no fun.” He decides, taking Y/N higher up.

“I’m fun!” She protests, taking hold of his waist.

“This is more fun.” He tosses her off.

Y/N screams, hurtling toward the ground. If she’s a cat she must have nine lives, right?

“Hang on!” A voice. His voice.

Peter’s arms are around her then. Swinging the pair of them safely to the ground.

“Thank you.”

“Who are you?” He asks.

“I’m…black cat.” Y/N says, hoping he won’t know she’s just made it up.

“I saw you rob that jewelry store.”

Y/N is distracted by sight of MJ slinking up a lamppost and jumping up to grab the edge of Ned’s glider. When he spots her there he begins waving it from side to side, in the hopes of dislodging her.

“I shouldn’t of broken into that store, you really scared me straight.” Y/N is laying it on thick. “But if you could just help me make sure that my accomplice does not fall to her death and detain the real threat without hurting him, that’s all I ask of you.”

“Is that all?” Peter asks sarcastically. He can’t tell if she’s lying or not, his tingle is broken.

“For now.”

———————————————————————

After a while they were able to secure Ned long enough to make an escape. Dragging him back to their apartment and barricading him in his room.

Y/N flops down on the couch. Peeling herself out of the skin tight suit and flicking off the tiny shred of a mask. Her hair returning to its original state as it flies across the room.

She kicks it off, hoping never to find it again. Now standing in just her undergarments she feels Michelle’s eyes on her.

The brunette swallows hard. Her suit is entirely gone, replaced by her jeans and tee shirt.

“How did you change so fast?” Y/N wonders, feeling self conscious as MJ’s gaze lingers at the bruise on her hip.

“Put your clothes on. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

“I don’t need-“

“Yeah,” MJ breathes closing the distance between them to run her finger along Y/N’s jaw just under the gash on her cheek, “you do.”

Y/N draws back, hoping there’s no other signs of damage as she makes her way to the bedroom and settles in her favorite loungewear before returning to the sofa.

“Step into my office,” MJ pats the couch cushion beside her. Their medical supplies on the coffee table in front of her.

Y/N smiles, despite the protesting burn from her face. “What do you think Doc?”

“You’ll live.” MJ shrugs, reaching for the peroxide.

“Ahh,” Y/N hisses as Michelle disinfects the gash on her cheek.

“Sorry, baby,” she frowns, blowing softly against the abused flesh. “Next time you should leave the advanced stunts to those of us with super human healing abilities.”

“I’m all fairness, I didn’t know what my strengths and weaknesses were before Ned whisked me away and then tossed me from a ten story.”

“Mmm,” MJ raises a brow. “I see your point.”

There’s a thud from Ned’s room. He’s trying to bust down the door.

“Pipe down in there!” MJ yells back. “Destruction of your own property isn’t covered by our renters insurance.”

This continues for a few moments as she applies the butterfly bandages to Y/N’s face with care. MJ’s expression is dark, her eyes almost in a trace. She shakes her head to clear it.

“You ok?” Y/N squeezes her knee.

“I’m fine.” MJ forces a grin, “just worried about you.”

“We’re gonna have to call Peter. See what he can do about Ned.”

“Yeah,” MJ’s tongue darts across her lips to wet them. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“When you put on the catsuit and your hair gets crazy, does it feel like there’s something inside you?”

“In-inside me?” Is this a trick question.

MJ rolls her brown eyes. “Do you hear someone else’s voice inside your head.”

“No,” Y/N draws back slightly. “I mean everything was a little hazy but no voices.”

MJ nods. “Good.”

“Do you-“

Just then the door to Ned’s room comes flying off the hinges. He’s barreling toward the front entrance.

“What are you doing?” MJ demands, tossing her arms in the air.

“I’ve got to get out of here.” Ned replies frantically.

“Calm down.” Y/N attempts to soothe him.

Ned darts like a bat out of hell and Y/N lunges at him in attempt to stop him. But he’s too strong, to determined.

MJ runs to the kitchen, returning with a single item in hand. “Look Ned, I’m really sorry about this.” Thunk, the frying connects with the back of his head.

“Michelle!” Y/N scolds, watching his unconscious body sink to the floor.

“I had no choice.” She shrugs, leaning down to check his pulse. “Call Peter.”

Y/N takes out her cell, thumbing through the call log to his contact information. It only rings once before he answers.

“Y/N.” He sounds…different.

“Hi Peter. I’m so sorry we’ve been MIA.” Y/N apologies immediately.

“Are you ok?” Peter asks.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathes, “I’m ok.”

“Is MJ ok?”

“She’s fine.” Y/N confirms, pushing aside her guilt about not being there for days after he just got them back. “If I text you the address can you come over?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’ll explain everything, I promise. Just bring your suit.”

Part 5

[oriigirii]

Streamer MC headcannons with the brothers 💞

"You were quite a known face on social media back in the human realm, playing games, doing unboxings, just vibin in general, fans around the globe looked forward to your streams a lot! However, considering the sudden (unannounced) invitation to the exchange program, you had to leave all of that behind out of the blue. It wasn't as bad at first, but you have to admit you do miss the feeling of being able to do goofy shit online. Luckily for you, with the advance technology of Devildom and some spicy magic, the internet had synced with the human realm, and thats when you decided to finally re-enter the streaming scene. How will the brothers react upon seeing your peculiar past time?"

Head empty, No thoughts aside from the brothers just bothering the MC while they stream so here you go haha

Warnings: None, just crackhead energy and a lotta mispellings

Gender: Neutral!

Hotel: Trivago

* [ ಠ╭╮ಠ ] Lucifer *

{How did he know about your career?}

I honestly don't see him as someone who goes on the internet a lot

(He screams boomer to me, change my mind)

He doesn't have the time either, he's too focused on work!

So him finding out is gonna take a while

But! He did find out the hard way when shrilled screaming was heard from your room when he was passing by with some paper stacks in his arms (courtesy of Diavolo)

This man felt his instincts kick in, he ran as fast as he could, papers forgotten, and he immediately slammed your door open. Splinters scattering around, your door definitely damaged, as his eyes held a glare and his demon form was out, wings spread in a threatening display.

He was ready to beat someone's ass as he had thought someone had hurt you in here.

But all hes met with is you, infront of your chair and PC, and a game over on the screen...

To say he was unamused was an understatement cause you just lost your internet priviliges for giving him a heart attack (He said it was because you were being rowdy and noisy but with what you saw you knew that wasn't the case)

Good luck tryna puppy-eye your way to his heart to let you continue streaming lol.

If by some miracle you managed to wriggle your rights back from his hands, he'd warn you not to be so loud next time.

You already learnt your lesson though~ (Hopefully)

{How does he feel about your streams?}

Not everyone's the same, so if you were the shy soft streamer who does more art streams or something akin to a podcast, you can bet that Lucifer will be putting you on while he works, he kinda knows your streaming schedule at this point and if you were running late, he'd force one of his brothers to take over your dish washing duties or any chores you were stuck with

If you were the loud obnoxious meme type, hed still try to watch out of curiosity, and as much as he appreciates that you were getting comfortable here in Devildom with how you laugh and joke around, he still can't approve of it. Its too loud, its much like his brothers energy and he has enough of that already, so he probably doesn't watch as much.

He has countlessly came to your room to shush you and at this point your fans had made a compilation of each time Lucifer had barged in to tell you off

Look he likes it when you scream, but not when hes in the middle of work okay--

At this point, chat has deemed Lucifer as dad and you as their mom/dad.

If he ever catches wind of this he'd definitely be teasing you in private for centuries to come.

Overall fine with it, as long as don't do something stupid on stream.

* ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Mammon*

{How did he know about your career?}

I would say he found out by him crashing into your streams midway but that's too predictable, hence why you've Mammon-proofed your bedroom during streaming hours!

Thanks to our wizard daddy, you have managed to cast a simple lock spell on your door and as well as a sound proofing

You love your broke idiot, but you did wanna keep the tone of your stream today a bit more chill, you wanted to have a proper Q&A with your fans to hopefully clear any bad vibes around your 3 month disappearance.

When Mammon has learnt your door was locked he definitely was a bit pissy, he knocked on your door loudly even and was calling out for you to let him in, but to no avail.

Bro he's scared.

He usually was allowed to enter, and you usually answered if you did need to be left alone for a bit, so just leaving him hanging got his mind racing and he had to press up his ear on the wooden door to try and hear if you were okay

When this continues on he finally resorts to getting help, but the only one in the house ws Levi, so he kicks down HIS door.

Levi boutta summon Lotan for interrupting him honestly

But as Mammon exclaim you weren't answering and he worried for your wellbeing, Levi rolls his eyes and scoffs,

"Idiot Mammon, they're streaming don't bother them…"

Streaming? why didn't you tell him???

Rude much.

He did huff and now was forcing his way to use Levi's PC for a moment

Can Levi stop him?

Nah.

He was busy on his console, and if he stood up now hed be breaking his world record so he was at a terrible state so he just resorts to threats of him drowning the Avatar of Greed if he does anything stupid on his PC.

He immediately logs in to your streaming platform and he watches for a bit,

You were more dolled up now just to look decent on stream, and he felt this jealousy rise as you interact with your chat, especially to those saying I love you's and stuff, and you even said it back? the audacity! You were his werent you? Were you replacing him with these nobodies?

He huffs as he realized that those who paid got their message highlighted, and thus, he starts donating. (Mind you this was Levi's account...)

"Mcccccc Open the dooorrr"

"Ill behave i promiseeeee"

"Cmon pleaseeee?"

Chat is c o n f u s i o n

NGL, they thought Mammon was a creepy stalker and red flags were being waved everywhere

but as chat was pondering who the hell he was, you can only sigh and look at the camera with that unamused expression, but ugh! you just KNOW hes doing that kicked puppy expression of his, and maybe it really wont be so bad

So you snap your fingers and say, "Okay MonMon, its open, Im giving you 3 seconds"

Mammon wasnt deemed to be the fastest out of his brothers for nothing

As soon as you got to '2', you were already tackled by the white haired male and chat went wild.

Now that you've shown your life in Devildom, maybe its time to introduce chat to your boyfriend no?

{How does he feel about your streams?}

You get paid to sit infront of a camera, do I have to say anything else?

But really though, as much as he enjoys the thought of getting so much cash from something so simple, he prefers the joy of being able to proudly exclaim that he was your first man!

ohhhh he thrives on the salt of your overly attached stans

but for those who fully support you, he always feels so mushy and shy when they say the ship you guys so hard

The fanarts has him WEAK (he may or may not have saved a few)

You usually do streams alone, but now you've allowed the door to be left open to let Mammon join whenever

Chat pogs when he enters with so much confidence, only for it to crumble when you kiss his cheek on stream.

Overall finds it fun to spend time with you, but just dont play scary games cause Lucifer might hang him upside down on stream.

* ▘▂▝ Leviathan*

{How did he know about your career?}

He is honestly the most attached to his D.D.D and he catches wind of almost anything going down in the internet, so your 'revival' being hyped up was something he definitely saw and he was just s wo o o ned

His Henry 2.0? a famous streamer?

Were you truly a blessing gifted upon him or was he dreaming?

He definitely didn't bring it up at first as he didn't wanna make it a big deal, but you notice hes been more in his head lately, and you have tried asking him what it was but to no avail.

You have to corner this little snake if you want answers and he eventually admits that he knew of your persona online and was incredibly shy to ask you to stream with him

He's a streamer himself afterall but maybe he doesnt stream as much as you do nor does he have as large of a following, so his intrusive thoughts attacked him and made him think that maybe since he wasnt as famous he didnt deserve to be in the same stream as you

Please tell him to join you and gib him kiss U3U

He'll absolutely m e l t

But now, as you make the announcement to your viewers and Levi to his, the internet explodes as a special collab stream was hapening between the expert gamer and avatar of envy of Devildom along with the beloved exchange student and streamer of the human realm

Your usual viewers reach between 10-15k, but as you start stream, that number boosts higher and beyond

Before streaming though, Levi was incredibly nervous, he'd picked the games for you to play that he knew you would enjoy with him, but his mind kept racing about whatthe fans thought, he didnt wanna disappoint them

But you had to remind him that whatever they say will not matter in the end as this was merely for fun, this was YOUR stream and you guys were gonna do what you want and nobody can have a say on it. (Maybe except Lucifer)

You usually talk for him with your bubbly personality, and to calm his nerves, he hs your pinky wraped around his where the camera can't see it.

Regardless, his thoughts subsided as you two delve into your stream that lasted a solid 7 hours, you definitely promised your chat that you and Levi will be doing more streams together from now on.

Once the cameras cut and yall are left alone, Both of you collapse on bed, and despite you being asleep already, Levi was just far too giddy as everything dwells on him.

Having a player 2 by his side now had never felt so intoxicating and he as just so lucky to have you.

{How does he feel about your streams?}

He obviously adores it, although some streams he wouldnt join just so he can play games on his own

He's still an introvert afterall, he needs his alone time

But he prefers that alone time with you, his Henry.

So when youre about to go stream, he kinda becomes a bit pouty, but with a simple promise of kisses (and maybe even more if youd like) he would let you go, but his attention would disappear from his game altogether.

He might just end up watching you instead

May or may not, at some point, just chat you and ask if its too late to join you

You do allow him to join you and play from the comforts of his room as both of you can simply play via internet, you give him the comfort to not turn on his mic or webcam either and you have no idea how he appreciates that.

Will definitely fight someone online when they start claiming you as theirs (-cough- stans) Please make sure it doesnt escalate to him summoning Lotan

Although the comments would often get to him, and as much as he can fight them online, he still does find himself pondering if they were true, so you need to give him a lotta lovin and reminder that he is your player 1 and no one else can ever fill that place.

------

Wow 3 brothers this time, what an improvement, anyways hope yall enjoy! I think its pretty clear who I simp for depending o nthe length of each lol, but do let me know if you guys want a part 2 for the rest of the brothers, or even the undateables!

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Catelyn II (Chapter 22)

She woke aching and alone and weary; weary of riding, weary of hurting, weary of duty. I want to weep, she thought. I want to be comforted. I'm so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that's all . . . a day . . . an hour . . .    

Nooo! Stop this madness! Don’t you realize you won’t know rest until your tears reach the Vale of Arryn?

+.+

Her son had looked at her unhappily. "There is no one else. I cannot go myself. Your father's too ill. The Blackfish is my eyes and ears, I dare not lose him. Your brother I need to hold Riverrun when we march—"     

(...)

"I said nothing of Harrenhal," Robb said. "Now, will you go to Renly for me, or must I send the Greatjon?"                 

The memory brought a wan smile to her face. Such an obvious ploy, that, yet deft for a boy of fifteen. Robb knew how ill-suited a man like Greatjon Umber would be to treat with a man like Renly Baratheon, and he knew that she knew it as well. What could she do but accede, praying that her father would live until her return?

Say whatever you want about Hoster Tully, sending her across the continent while her father is on his deathbed is super cold.

Also, please take note of the fact that a king couldn’t possibly get up and leave his army in the middle of a war to go treat with another king. Ahem.

+.+

"A tourney," Hal Mollen declared. He had a penchant for loudly announcing the obvious.    

(...)

Another man was fallen, trapped beneath his injured horse, both of them screaming in pain. Squires rushed out to aid them.    

Wow that’s crazy, I didn’t expect to see Harry Hardyng competing.

+.+

This is madness, Catelyn thought. Real enemies on every side and half the realm in flames, and Renly sits here playing at war like a boy with his first wooden sword.    

Oh Catelyn, you’re entirely too smart to not realize he’s biding his time, waiting for Tywin and Robb to eat each other.

Remember, when there are no battles to fight, men start to think of hearth and harvest. He has to keep them entertained somehow.

+.+

In their midst, watching and laughing with his young queen by his side, sat a ghost in a golden crown.                 

Small wonder the lords gather around him with such fervor, she thought, he is Robert come again.

This might be the most blatant foreshadowing I’ve ever seen.

+.+

The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses.

Pffftbwahahahahaha

+.+

"When I take King's Landing, I'll send you Cersei's head."

And will that bring my Ned back to me? she thought.

You notice how of all the Starklings, it’s Catelyn who is the least hungry for vengeance? :(

+.+

Tell me, when does your son mean to march against Harrenhal?"    

(...)

"So long as he leaves a few Lannisters for me, I'll not complain. What has he done with the Kingslayer?"    

Lol, who are you kidding right now?

+.+

The steel was polished to such a high sheen that she could see her reflection in the breastplate, gazing back at her as if from the bottom of a deep green pond. The face of a drowned woman, Catelyn thought. Can you drown in grief?

+.+

Of food there was plenty. The war had not touched the fabled bounty of Highgarden. While singers sang and tumblers tumbled, they began with pears poached in wine, and went on to tiny savory fish rolled in salt and cooked crisp, and capons stuffed with onions and mushrooms. There were great loaves of brown bread, mounds of turnips and sweetcorn and pease, immense hams and roast geese and trenchers dripping full of venison stewed with beer and barley. For the sweet, Lord Caswell's servants brought down trays of pastries from his castle kitchens, cream swans and spun-sugar unicorns, lemon cakes in the shape of roses, spiced honey biscuits and blackberry tarts, apple crisps and wheels of buttery cheese.    

Renly Baratheon is currently blocking the supply of food to King’s Landing.

+.+

The rich foods made Catelyn queasy

It should.

+.+

Out in the field, another man lost his seat to the knight in the rainbow-striped cloak, and the king shouted approval with the rest. "Loras!" she heard him call. "Loras! Highgarden!" 

x

He was indeed as comely as Catelyn had suspected he might be. When not glazed, his eyes were lively and intelligent, his hair an artless tumble of brown locks that many a maid might have envied.

x

From time to time, King Renly would feed Margaery some choice morsel off the point of his dagger, or lean over to plant the lightest of kisses on her cheek, but it was Ser Loras who shared most of his jests and confidences.

Catelyn’s radar is pinging.

+.+

The height of folly was reached when a plump fool came capering out in gold-painted tin with a cloth lion's head, and chased a dwarf around the tables, whacking him over the head with a bladder. Finally King Renly demanded to know why he was beating his brother. "Why, Your Grace, I'm the Kinslayer," the fool said.

"It's Kingslayer, fool of a fool," Renly said, and the hall rang with laughter.

I find this so confusing. Clever misdirection?

Jaime’s beating on Tyrion, and calling himself a kinslayer, but take a good long look at the word bladder.

+.+

"Because it will not last," Catelyn answered, sadly. "Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming."

"Lady Catelyn, you are wrong." Brienne regarded her with eyes as blue as her armor. "Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining."

Winter comes for all of us, Catelyn thought. For me, it came when Ned died. It will come for you too, child, and sooner than you like. She did not have the heart to say it.    

My sweet Brienne, you remind me so much of someone.

She heard it as she had never heard it before, and there were other sounds as well, grunts of pain, angry curses, shouts for help, and the moans of wounded and dying men. In the songs, the knights never screamed nor begged for mercy. - Sansa IV, AGOT

Winter is definitely coming for you Brienne, and it’s holding a crown.

+.+

I'm told he left King's Landing vowing to take up service with the true king. That cloak Brienne claimed today was the one I was keeping for Selmy, in hopes that he might offer me his sword.

We must never forget Barristan Selmy is a gigantic loser, who was ready to serve true king Viserys Targaryen like a little bitch boy.

+.+

"Ned refused you." She did not have to be told.         

"He had sworn to protect Robert's children," Renly said. "I lacked the strength to act alone, so when Lord Eddard turned me away, I had no choice but to flee. Had I stayed, I knew the queen would see to it that I did not long outlive my brother."

Had you stayed, and lent your support to Ned, he might still be alive, Catelyn thought bitterly.

Trust me Catelyn, I was there, you can’t blame Renly for anything.

+.+

"I have twice that number here," Renly said, "and this is only part of my strength. Mace Tyrell remains at Highgarden with another ten thousand, I have a strong garrison holding Storm's End, and soon enough the Dornishmen will join me with all their power. And never forget my brother Stannis, who holds Dragonstone and commands the lords of the narrow sea."

"It would seem that you are the one who has forgotten Stannis," Catelyn said, more sharply than she'd intended.

Prince Doran's grievance against House Lannister goes back only a generation, but the Dornishmen have warred against Storm's End and Highgarden for a thousand years, and Renly has taken Dorne's allegiance for granted. - Tyrion V, ACOK

Taking Dorne for granted is one thing, but treating Stannis like an ally is astounding. This all bodes well. Great things always happen to those who are this overconfident.

+.+

Renly shrugged. "Tell me, what right did my brother Robert ever have to the Iron Throne?" He did not wait for an answer. "Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it. Robert won the throne with his warhammer."

Great point Renly, though the key difference here is that Robert took the throne, while you’re sitting on your ass, waiting for it to fall in your lap.

For the record, I’m not saying it’s a bad strategy. Do you buddy, keep your men alive.

+.+

If your son supports me as his father supported Robert, he'll not find me ungenerous. I will gladly confirm him in all his lands, titles, and honors. He can rule in Winterfell as he pleases. He can even go on calling himself King in the North if he likes, so long as he bends the knee and does me homage as his overlord. King is only a word, but fealty, loyalty, service . . . those I must have.

Take it and run!

+.+

I mean to be king, my lady, and not of a broken kingdom. I cannot say it plainer than that. Three hundred years ago, a Stark king knelt to Aegon the Dragon, when he saw he could not hope to prevail. That was wisdom. Your son must be wise as well. Once he joins me, this war is good as done.

+.+

"Your Grace." The rider spurred his mount closer. "I came swift as I could. From Storm's End. We are besieged, Your Grace, Ser Cortnay defies them, but . . ."    

"But . . . that's not possible. I would have been told if Lord Tywin left Harrenhal."

"These are no Lannisters, my liege. It's Lord Stannis at your gates. King Stannis, he calls himself now."    

Oopsie! Did a king take for granted his own castle was properly safeguarded?

Is one brother attacking another brother’s castle, while it lays unprotected? 

Catelyn, take a second.

Final thoughts:

People who believe Renly would be a great king are deluded. Isn’t the whole point he’s exactly like Robert, only more frivolous and less into women?

I never noticed we get Meera and Brienne back-to-back. Our little fierce Starkling defenders!

-> return to menu <-

[screeching-painter-witch]

ADHD Peter Parker, please! Like ADHD underestimation. I wanna know how Tony would help Peter with his underestimation. I also wanna know Peter's stims he does. If you can that would be great!

Remember to drink water! -💜

when did you send me this ask? i did not get a notification so i didn't see it, i'm so sorry /gen

without further ado:

adhd peter parker headcanons

- peter gets understimulated very easily, more than most people with adhd even. it might be because of his powers or his genius mind, or a combination of both

- both peter and tony have hyperfixated on the band queen (tony got peter into it but now they're both equally obsessed), so whenever peter is understimulated tony reminds him that he can listen to queen (peter, like most people with adhd, forgets he can listen to music to seek stimulation)

- brian may's guitar playing, roger taylor's falsetto voice, and freddie mercury's voice in general are auditory stimulation heaven for them (i will admit i am projecting here)

- they listen to queen, but also to other artists together and happy stim!! (peter got tony into conan gray and olivia rodrigo, tony will not admit he loves their music to anyone else)

- peter has a science fiction special interest/hyperfixation, and tony happily listens to his rants and theories (tony is always more than happy to listen to peter, but he often brings up peter's hyperfixations to cheer peter up when he's sad)

- like the gen-z transmasc he is, peter listens to the magnus archives (a horror anthology podcast), though he can only listen to it in bus or car rides or when he's exercising, otherwise he can't focus. he also has a vocal stim where he hums the intro music, and another stim where he talks in jonathan sims' accent sometimes,,, he also listens to the podcast when he's understimulated. tony has often walked in on peter, working in the lab, with a very eery, unsettling story being heard very loudly through the speakers, along with creepy string music playing in the background. he doesn't know why peter like this stuff

- he is hyperactive, and rarely hyperfixates on things or activities he needs to stay still for a long time for, like reading. the only book he hyperfixated on was red, white and royal blue (mj and ned got him into it and he loved it)

- peter definitely stims by jumping up and down (no this is not just me projecting /s),, he also jumps up and down on any surface he can stand on (e.g. walls or the ceiling)

- he also like,,, wiggles his shoulders as a stim, that one is usually for listening to good music

- he has many vocal stims, though because of ableist society (f*** ableists btw) he only feels comfortable stimming vocally when he's alone

- some of his vocal stims include: humming whatever song he's obsessed with at the moment (a lot of the time it's "discord" or "my ordinary life" by the living tombstone)

- another vocal stim of his is just,,, screaming, usually to relieve stress

- he has many fidget toys, although they tended to break easily until tony made him fidget toys that withstand his super strength (this idea is one i've mentioned before, and @human-salt-shaker-aka-cf-fighter was the one who came up with it, it's an awesome idea /gen)

- he also really likes blue things, idk if it's a visual stim but it makes him feel calm

- he has a very secret crystal and rock collection that started from his witchcraft hyperfixation but the crystal obsession kept resurfacing even after he decided witchcraft isn't for him (he does sometimes stir intention into his coffee or tea but shhh no one can know)

- he has a pressure stim which is partly the reason why he "forgets" to take off his binder after 8 hours of wearing it (tony, may, happy and ned are worried and so am i)

ok so these are just a few unorganised and messy thoughts, and i probably went off-topic a few times but hey-ho. i'm sorry i took so long to reply, i literally did not know this was in my inbox??? anyway, i hope you like these headcanons, and if you have anything more specific in mind, feel free to send another ask (also: thank you for reminding me to drink water/gen)!

[jackoshadows]

Hello! I'm so glad to have found a fellow book!Jon fan in this cursed fandom 😭

If you don't mind me asking, what do you think about Jon's dreams about the crypts of Winterfell? Will he find/discover something important there? Aaah, I'm so curious about it!

The most popular theory is that Jon's crypt dream have to do with the mystery of his parentage. We see little hints of this.

"Sometimes I dream about it," he said. "I'm walking down this long empty hall. My voice echoes all around, but no one answers, so I walk faster, opening doors, shouting names. I don't even know who I'm looking for. Most nights it's my father, but sometimes it's Robb instead, or my little sister Arya, or my uncle."

Jon shook his head. "No one. The castle is always empty. Even the ravens are gone from the rookery, and the stables are full of bones. That always scares me. I start to run then, throwing open doors, climbing the tower three steps at a time, screaming for someone, for anyone. And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It's black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it's not them I'm afraid of. I scream that I'm not a Stark, that this isn't my place, but it's no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream." He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. "That's when I always wake."

Last night he had dreamt the Winterfell dream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he'd heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch-dark, his heart hammering. Even when Ghost leapt up on the bed to nuzzle at his face, he could not shake his deep sense of terror. He dared not go back to sleep.

This is Ned's dream of the crypts:

He was walking through the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood. Eddard Stark jerked upright, his heart racing, the blankets tangled around him. The room was black as pitch, and someone was hammering on the door. "Lord Eddard," a voice called loudly.

Bran's dream of the crypts

The mention of dreams reminded him. "I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad." "And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube.

"It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams.

And finally Jon again:

He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. "Father?" he called. "Bran? Rickon?" No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. "Uncle?" he called. "Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me." Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place.

I think these dreams are telling Jon that he's not a Stark, but not for the reasons Jon thinks. And considering that some of Jon's other dreams are prophetic in nature possibly due to his Targaryen lineage, there's a good bet that the secret hidden in the crypts that he is terrified of is his parentage.

There's a good bet that Jon Snow will be in Winterfell in TWoW. There's a good chance that he will be King in the North and Lord of Winterfell by Robb Stark's decree, signed and witnessed by the Lords of the North and the Riverlands. That decree is currently with whom?

Q: I have a question, since Robb actually  legitimized Jon and named him his heir for Winterfell and the North  before the Red Wedding (granted no one knows about this and is still  alive or free, the Greatjon knows as does Edmure, but I dont see them  getting out of the Twins any time soon and Catelyn would probably die  before telling anyone) does this make Jon’s rejection of Stannis’ offer  moot?

A: Edmure and the Greatjon are prisoners, true… but you are forgetting  the envoys that Robb sent to Howland Reed… Galbart Glover, Maege  Mormont, Jason Mallister… they are all alive and free… As to what is and is not moot… the key point is, only a king can legitimize a bastard……

GRRM SSM, 2000

We are already seeing a convergence and involvement of Northerners in the plot to get rid of the Boltons in ADwD. Stannis frees Deepwood Motte with the help of the Mountain clans and Jon Snow's advice. Robett Glover is with Manderly and Alysane Mormont with Stannis. In the Riverlands, Edmure Tully and Jason Mallister - witnesses to Robb's decree - are still alive, though prisoners. Though not for much longer with the Brotherhood plotting to free them.

SENTRY BOX BOOKS SIGNING (CALGARY, CANADA)

We will meet Howland Reed, but not in the next book… he(Howland) knows just too much about the central mystery of the book…

We  will learn lots about the Harrenhall tourney in the next three books,  so, any prequel work he is considering will strictly be the continuation  of the Dunk and Egg stories… - November 16, 2000

At the Berkeley meeting, I asked if we’d be able to meet Howland Reed and while he said that there wouldn’t be a POV most likely, we would get to know more about the man and his connection/knowledge to the Tower of Joy and Ned at Starfall. Well, I asked about his connection with Ned and at Starfall so he just said yes, we would, basically. - SSM, 11/11/2000

It had been stated that Howland Reed would come out in The Winds of Winter, which is the 5th book. Will he still come in the 5th book (A Dance with Dragon)?

GRRM: He will appear eventually. - SSM, 9/1/2001

If there is any time for Howland Reed to make an appearance, I would think it would be in TWoW, along with Maege and Glover and the decree. So we would have Jon Snow and Howland Reed in Winterfell.

Imagine Jon feeling the satisfaction and happiness of finally being Lord of Winterfell - as he's always wanted. And Howland takes him down to the crypts and tells him the truth and it all comes shattering down.

I am pretty sure Rickon will be with him in Winterfell. I can only hope that Arya makes her way there soon and is present when Jon's entire world comes falling down.

[johannepetereric]

What if the Venom movie happened pre-2000s, and Peter's the Symbrock mpreg half-human, half-alien child? Something happened, and they had to reluctantly leave Peter with the Parkers before he could even remember stuff (mostly likely as a baby). Venom was screaming most loudly in despair and agony like he does, being Overprotective.

In addition to getting those Spidey Powers from the spider, Peter already could turn into goo and possess people and eat people like Yum and have tentacles and be a scaring looking black/red slime tentacle monster with white horror eyes. But those are mastered already, cuz he was born with them.

It's the writer's choice if Symbrock comes back for whatever plot reasons pop up (or Aunt May's dead and they're called back to look for their hellspawn).

Or they can skip all that angst and leave it as Symbrock raising Peter from the start, like they should.

IDK whether Ned would be in the know by the time Civil War/Spider-Man 1 starts.

[gazpachoandbooks]

HC that some lords or whatever visit Winterfell for the first time since the Starklings have been ruling there. They've all heard a great deal about every single one of them, how they are legends who battled the dead and lived to tell it, how they took back their father and brother's kingdom, how they faced the wars in the South and gained independence, how they are fearsome skinchangers, and above all how they would defend each other fiercely, until the last breath. How there is magic in Winterfell once more.

So they are extremely shocked to find the White Wolf and his She-wolf little sister with swords in the courtyard, the fight looking a lot more intense than a training exercise, both swearing loudly at the other until they come to a halt.

"Enough!" yells Arya Underfoot, her famous Needle pointing at the shape of her brother. "Confess, heathen!"

"Fine, I did it" says the Bastard of the Wall, apparently not afraid of facing his fate.

"No, you didn't " comes a voice from the ramparts, and to their surprise it is the Red Wolf herself speaking, she who can see through the eyes of the eagles. She is half-laying against a column, her Tully hair shining in the sunlight as bright as the songs claim it does. "Arya did."

"Blasphemy! Have I not beaten him in the very first round? The gods guided my hand!"

"He beat you in the second-"

"The gods guided my hand first!" Arya the Fearless proclaims, ignoring her sister, and if the lords didn't know better they'd say everyone in that courtyard is trying their very hardest to hold back their laughter, but the Lord Commander and his sister look deadly serious. Would brother and sister, both well renowned for their protectiveness of one another, unseath steel to settle a mere quarrel? The Water Dancer raises her sword to point ar her brother once again. "Do you still refuse to accept the truth of your crime?"

The Lord Commander meets her gaze with a glower of the same intensity. "I don't. I did it."

"No, you didn't, Arya did" the Mockingjay's Bane repeats from up above. Arya the Featherfeet throws her hands up in the air. "Unbelievable! Justice is staring you in the eye and you are still too blind to see it. Very well, then. If the gods guiding my hand-"

"And Jon's. In the second round."

"-IF THE GODS GUIDING MY HAND FIRST IS NOT ENOUGH" she insists, "then we must settle this the old way. Let the gods guide the hand of every last warrior who chooses to follow me."

A silence spreads through the yard. "Careful, little sister" He Who Came Back From The Lands Of The Dead says. "Do not start something you can't finish."

"Oh, fear not. I'll finish it alright."

The lords look around themselves and watch men and women eyeing each other, forming small groups, and with a shiver they realise they're picking sides.

"You should hide somewhere" a kitchen boy whispers behind them, and they are about to do so when they see coin changing hands. "They're betting?" One of the lords demands, outraged. The kitchen boy merely shrugs. "Might as well, m'lord. It happens at least once a moon."

Once a moon?!? The lords exchange shocked glances. They haven't heard of such infight in the very heart of the North. In fact, they've been repeatedly informed of the fondness with which Ned Stark's children treat one another. How are they only hearing of this now?

"Alright. If this is your wish, then you shall have it" says the Ghost Commander, a wolfish grin settling on his features that his sister quickly matches with one of her own.

"A piece of advice, m'lord" says the boy. "You should choose a side right now, m'lord, or hide. And, under any circumstance, don't. Trust. Anyone. People here change cloak each time it happens. You can never know who to trust, not really."

The lords can't believe what they're seeing, but they stand their ground all the same. Who must they choose?

"To the death" says Arya.

"To the death" her brother agrees, shaking her hand shortly. The lords have still been unable to decide when a giant mountain of snow lands from the rooftop, right where Lord Snow was standing. "BRAN!" Sansa screams, looking up from the edge of the railing, and a red head appears on the periphery of the roof, followed by a grinning face. "In the name of all that is good, how did you get up there?"

"I had help" says the man who can only be Bran Stark, the Winged Wolf, gesturing behind him. Another red head appears, this one belonging to a smaller lad that can only be Rickon the Wild, and another head still, this one filled with small braids that remind the lords of the way Ironmen like to keep their hair away from their face during battle.

The Red Wolf doesn't seem fazed. "Rickon, Theon, pull Bran down from the ceiling or I swear-" but then Rickon throws a snowball over the edge, and it lands right in his sister's face. The lords stare in horror as the Lady of Winterfell wipes away the wet water on her face, and then serenely says "very well" as a terrifying smile lightens her face. "TO THE DEATH!" She screams at the top of her lungs. And then all hell breaks loose.

Arya has used the distraction to get as far away from Jon as she can, her sword now sheathed at her hip, and gather as much snow as she possibly can in her small hands. She doesn't get to finish her task. A snow-soaked Jon appears behind her and shoves a handfull of snow under the collar of the back of her tunic, making her wriggle as she tries to get away, her laughter ringing in the courtyard. Every man and woman around them has left what they were doing to eagerly throw snow at each other, some betraying their team as soon as they have the chance. Lady Sansa is using a barrel to propel herself onto the roof, while in the other side of the walkway Greyjoy and the youngest Stark are trying to pull Bran down to escape from his sister's wrath, but laughter seems to be taking away all of their strength. A one-handed man with a familiar face races across the yard, closely followed by a tall, armoured woman with short blonde hair and a massive amount of snow in her hands that looks like she is having the time of her life. A redheaded giant throws an enormous proyectile at Jon, who is now trying to evade his and Arya's snowballs.

This is ridiculous, one of the lords thinks, just as a snowball hits his back. He turns around furiously, only to find his wife waiting, a devilish smile dancing on her lips, and his resolve crumbles. They are right, he thinks as he grabs snow from the ground and sprints to catch her. They pass the legendary Starks on their way, now all battling each other in the grounds of the yard, and hear the breathless laughter of the Red Wolf as she tries to squirm from her sister's tickling hands. "FINE, I DID IT!" Sansa yells, tears in the corners of her eyes and a wide smile across her face. "I ATE THE LAST LEMONCAKE! I REGRET NOTHING!"

The lord doesn't slow his pace to witness the repercussions of her confession. They are right, he thinks again as he chases after his wife. There is magic in Winterfell once more.

[marvelobsessedteenager]

All The Hurt - Chapter 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”

Word Count: 4.1k

A/n: The amount of love I've gotten is absolutely incredible. Thank you guys for the support! Enjoy :3 -----------------------------------------

Flash had suggested driving both him and yourself to Liz’s house, and you agreed, simply because car rides with him were more fun. You got there earlier than anyone else, giving Flash time to set up his DJ equipment and speakers while you helped Liz and Betty set up the lights, food, and drinks.

Not an hour later and the house was full of people that you knew and didn’t know, but welcomed anyway. Everybody walking around was having a good time, drinking soda out of a red solo cup and dancing to Flash’s party music. You would be lying if you told yourself your eyes weren’t examining the dance floor for a particular bed of curls.

In your mind, you knew there was no way Peter knew Spider-Man. You saw it in the way he told everyone he did today at the gym. His left hand was wildly shaking — a clear telltale of nerves you’d figured out long ago.

Something else was bothering you, though, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

That bruise. You knew for a fact Peter wasn’t a fighter, mainly when it came to bullies - words or actions. He never retaliated, which is why people considered him an easy target. You wouldn’t put it past him to allow himself to get beaten up, but you would have known if that’d happened. Flash was definitely his number one bully, but he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on Peter, and neither would any of his friends, especially since they all knew your history with Peter.

They were all bark and no bite, which meant that there was another explanation for it, but for the love of God, you couldn’t figure out what it was.

And speak of the devil.

You smirked as you caught sight of him, worried thoughts vanishing as you weaved your way through the crowd to Flash, whispering in his ear about your discovery. He flashed you a wicked smile, turned down the music, and grabbed the mic.

“Penis Parker! What’s up?” Flash yelled into the mic, causing Peter to freeze and turn to look at Flash, who was pointing right at him.

“Hey, Y/n,” Flash pretended to search the crowd then turned to you, “Where do you think his pal Spider-Man is?” He placed the mic below your lips and waited for your preplanned answer.

“Hm, let me a guess.” You sweetly said, tapping your chin like you were thinking, “in Canada with his imaginary girlfriend?” You raised your eyebrows, eyes boring into Peter’s with fire burning behind your pupils, your brain ignoring your heart that was begging you to stop upsetting him as you caught the flash of hurt that crossed his features.

The crowd laughed and “ooh” ed as Flash played a “burn” sound effect, “That’s not Spider-Man,” He jutted his chin towards Ned, “that’s just Ned in a red shirt.”

You watched him walk away from the giggling crowd, fuming, and you bumped your fist with Flash's in victory. He turned up the music, and you made your way to the dance floor with your friends, as you swayed your hips to the loud tune. Your group sang loudly to the songs, and though it was deafening and off-tune, you never felt freer than when you screamed the lyrics with them.

At some point, your voice started sounding raspy, and your throat was begging you for some sort of liquid to heal the ache. You excused yourself from the group, walked to the kitchen and grabbed a solo cup, filling it with cool water and chugging it down.

But, of fucking course, someone had to ruin your night and your favorite white dress by bumping into you and spilling coke on your outfit. That someone was a girl with piercing blue eyes and brown hair — someone you didn't recognize. It was clear she didn’t go to Midtown considering she squeaked an apology and ran to her friends, who glanced back at you and immediately dashed out of the house.

Great.

You would ask Liz for another dress, but you weren’t exactly tight with her. You’d also ask your friends to take you home to change, but as you looked at them jumping around and bobbing their heads to the music, you figured they were having too much fun, and you didn’t want to ruin it.

You would normally call your driver, but you hadn’t had the chance to set up your new phone just yet.

Sighing, you grabbed your denim jacket you hid below the counter earlier, put it on, and began your journey home on foot. Your house was located about thirty minutes away from Liz’s, which wasn’t really a big deal for you.

About fifteen minutes of strolling in silence and kicking any rock that caught your eye, you passed by a playground that looked familiar. It was the very same playground you and Peter would play in when you were children. You’d take turns pushing each other on the swing, and when you were old enough to do it yourself, you would both compete to see who’d go higher and who could jump off the swing the farthest. It always resulted in an injury, but you two always laughed it off, especially when Jane would run over worriedly with a first-aid kit.

As you went into your early teenage years, you’d meet at the playground alone and climb to the top of the dome climber with different (and disgusting) flavored milkshakes, exchanging it with each other every now and again, and watch the river flow peacefully.

The same river in which Iron-Man is flying out of with Spider-Man in his arms.

Wait, what?

You snapped out of your reverie and did a double take before you quickly dove into one of the many bushes, the quick rate of your heartbeat becoming a distraction from the fresh cut on your exposed neck from the sharp branches.

You could see everything that was happening in front of you, but not necessarily hear everything. Your wide eyes curiously peeked over the bushes, watching as Iron-Man placed Spider-Man on the dome. And maybe it was your hearing, but you swore you knew the high pitched voice that was exaggeratedly saying something.

You saw Spider-Man tug his mask off and wring it out, which made the back of his head incredibly visible. Brown hair. Or maybe black. It was too dark to see the difference. You debated moving a little closer to hear the conversation.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t right. Spider-Man was entitled to protect his identity. But you could keep a secret. Besides, maybe this could be the moment you’d thank him for saving you. You doubted he’d remember what he did, but you’d never forget.

So, you crept a little closer to make out the words, despite your gut telling you you shouldn’t.

“What were you thinking?” Iron-Man asked in a way that made you believe Spider-Man was in trouble.

“The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons, I gotta take him down!”

Wait. That sounds like-

“Take him down now, huh? Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing.” Iron-Man said, waving his arm around.

“The Avengers?”

“No, no, no, just a little below their…pay grade.”

“Anyway, Mr. Stark, you didn’t have to come all the way out here, I-I had that. I was fine.”

But that was all you could hear. Because as the conversation went on, the gears in your head begun turning, the dots seemed to connect faster than you could comprehend.

The strange bruise on his jaw after it was shown on the news that a certain superhero fought robbers at the bank across Delmar’s. Him running out of school once it was over. The fact that he left school for two weeks and mysteriously came back. Him ‘allegedly’ saying your name when he saved you. All the times he ditched you in the past were the same times Spider-Man was on the news for a heroic saving. You remembered because you’d send the news to Peter. The “Stark Internship” excuse wasn’t real.

But this was.

Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

Peter Parker saved your life.

The amount of information was loud. So, so, loud. You couldn’t hear the bickering that went on. A rush of emotions went through you. The first was rage. Is this it? Is this is his reason for letting you go? He couldn’t have just been honest and told you? You bet he told Ned. But he couldn’t tell you, could he?

But just as quickly as it came, your anger left you, instead being replaced with worry. You hated to admit it, but you were worried about him. How could he go out there every day and put his life on the line like that? What about his wounds and injuries? Did he suffer through those alone? Or did May help him heal?

Does May even know? Does anybody know?

Lastly, panic, and that was the strongest of them all. Holy shit, you thought, I just found out that my ex best friend and former crush is a superhero. He shoots webs out of his hands or something and sticks to walls and saves strangers and fights criminals and-

And Iron-Man is flying away.

And Spider-Man is walking in your direction.

I need to go.

As soon as you turned around, still crouched but ready to fucking bolt, you accidentally stepped on something hard, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your hissing inside. Once the pain slightly subsided, you looked downwards and moved your head closer to the object. A loud purring sound was emitting from it, and if there was anything in this world that screamed danger, it was this.

You were careful to pick it up and examine it. In the middle of this..machine was a bright purple stone and it was fucking glowing. You looked around you and caught Spider-Man muttering something to himself right before an obnoxious ringing made its way into your ears, prompting you to cringe and put your hands over them as you crouched.

It’s the same annoying fucking ringtone as Peter’s.

You waited for him to move a little farther, and when he did, you peeked from behind the bush. He had just closed the phone and continued his walk. You didn’t know if this thing was a bomb or something explosive, so throwing it in his direction was already ruled out. Besides, he was already beyond throw distance. You knew the safest way to get it to him.

You knew what to do. You hated that you did, but you had to do it.

Maybe hearing him talk to you would confirm or deny your hypothesis. Anybody could have brown hair, a high-pitched voice and the same ringtone as your ex-best friend and be a superhero that saved you two weeks ago.

You took a deep breath to calm your hammering heart from ripping through your ribcage and escaping. “I hate my life,” you mumbled as you rose and followed him with your heart still beating out of your chest, almost sure it was louder than your barely audible footsteps.

Don’t trip, don’t trip.

When you got close to him, close enough to tap him on the shoulder, he quickly turned around and got into a fighting position with his fists ready to punch. You were so shocked that you dropped the object and backed away with your hands up, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy. ”

Upon seeing a citizen (that he knew too well) he dropped his stance, “S-uh..sorry. I-I thought you..uh..” He cleared his throat, “Sorry, ma’am. How can I help you?” He said, very clearly thickening his voice and awkwardly placing his hands on his hips.

But you knew that sound anywhere.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. It is him.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you felt it clogging your ability to breathe.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/n.” You mentally smacked yourself. He already knows you, dumbass.

Should you tell him he knows you, though? Should you tell him you know him? No, what? You vehemently shook your head.

“A-anyway I, um, found this-” You picked up the object and turned it around in your hands, “-on my way home and I think it’ll help you? I don’t know, it’s definitely not man-made, I suppose. I’m not exactly an expert but I thought you’d be and you just so happened to be in my neighborhood and I am, too, and this thing is glowing and-”

His spider..eye..thingies were as wide as saucers, and it was only now that you noticed you were rambling. Your cheeks flushed, and you immediately cursed at your body for betraying you.

This is worse than tripping.

“Sorry,” you looked down at your shoes, "I babble when I’m-“ Nope. Not letting him know you’re nervous. Not that he doesn’t already know. You found yourself regretting telling him all your triggers and quirks in the past, because right now, you couldn’t tell whether he could figure you out or not.

He probably could, though.

This night just kept getting worse. Pack it up already.

You cleared your throat and straightened your shoulders in the most confident way you could, “Here,” you outstretched your arm to him, waiting for him to grab the foreign object, but all he did was stare, and stare, and stare. You didn't really know where to look, and you didn't know if he was gazing at you or not, but before you could say anything, he snapped out of whatever he was in and took a hold of the object. You tried not to think about his masked fingers that grazed yours.

“Thanks, uh, Y/n.”  He said, not as intrigued by the object as you thought he’d be. Instead, he seemed to be looking at you. Or behind you. You still couldn't tell. You were too caught up in the way he said your name. It felt strangely familiar, and comforted you for a moment. It made you feel safe and wanted. Loved.

Before the memories reminded you of what he’d done.

“Sure,” you nodded, slowly backing away, “um, see you...around.”

“Yeah.”

As you turned on your heel to continue your trip home, he pipped up, “Oh, um, would- do you want me to walk you home? It’s really dark out here.”

You entertained the thought in your head for a second. "What could possibly happen if he walked you home, besides guaranteeing you safety?” Your heart spoke.

"Oh, I don’t know, you could accidentally blurt out that you know him, and then things will get even more awkward than they already are.” Your brain fought back, stubborn as ever.

Yeah, you’re definitely just going to pass up his offer.

“I’m, uh, I’m good. Need a little time to myself.” You nervously chuckled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah.” He repeated, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he watched you walk away from him.

Like he’d done to you.

The rest of the fifteen minutes passed by faster than you anticipated, but maybe it was because you were too preoccupied considering you just confirmed your ex-best friend was a fucking superhero with fucking superpowers. As the confirmation made its way into your brain, you noticed that the signs were right beneath your nose, but you weren’t observant enough to figure it out. They started before he left you.

How did it start to begin with? Has he always had these powers?

Wait, no. Because Spider-Man wasn’t always around. And even if he really did have them for a long time, why leave you now? It must’ve been recent, you concluded.

But how? How does one go from an ordinary, lanky teenager to a robust superhero who can stop a speeding bus with his bare hands?

As one question was answered, another one took its place. The list just kept going and going, without a clear sign of it stopping.

In all honesty, you thought the videos that popped up on your YouTube recommended page of a web-slinging human were staged. In your defense, he seemed quite small to be a hero, and it wouldn’t be the first time some kid tried to fool the world with “a new superhero". You remember sending it to Peter and asking him if he thought it was real.

He never answered.

You hadn’t realized you were standing on your porch, staring at the overly large mahogany door in front of you. You sighed and took out your keys, placing them in the lock and twisting it.

You were lucky today was the beginning of the weekend. You wouldn’t be able to face him after seeing what you just saw. You didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t know what to do. Should you let him know that you know?

Should you let anyone know that you know?

That was the worst part about this whole thing. You had no one to turn to. No one to talk to about this, and there definitely wouldn’t be a wikiHow page on how to deal with something like this.

So, you ruled it out. One of the choices was obviously keeping the secret to yourself and not telling Peter you knew his identity. It would keep things from getting too awkward to handle and would keep him safe.

The other choice, the really horrible one, was to let everyone know. A part of you was still mad at what he’d done. You mean, he didn’t even try to apologize as he should’ve. That evil part of you, the hurt part, wanted revenge — wanted you to ruin Peter like he did you.

You knew people would believe you if you told them. You knew they’d find their ways to figure out if it’s true or not. But for some reason, you were hesitant. Yes, Peter ruined your life. Yes, Peter broke you in ways you believed were beyond mendable.

But Peter was also the boy who gave you his last Iron-Man bandaid when you scraped your elbow the first time you met. He’s the boy who pushed your bully and got punched in the face for it when you were ten. He’s the boy who saved your life the other day - the boy who saves dozens of strangers every week.

It was clear which option was better.

Keeping his secret didn’t mean you forgave him, though.

After everything, you didn’t know if you allowed yourself to forgive him. Part of you wanted you to, pleaded you to for the sake of moving on, but the more stubborn part of you remembered the pain you went through; the nights you spent crying yourself to sleep, the newfound insecurities of not being enough for anybody, the fear that others will leave you behind like he did.

Hell, you had a locked note in your notes app that contained a long speech about how you felt — about how he made you feel. The one you were to send him — but ended up deleting.

You groaned and rubbed your head, feeling an oncoming headache from the questions. You stayed in your house that weekend, trapped with a racing mind and no answers to slow it down.

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You started noticing Peter act differently towards you when your freshman year of high school was close to ending. It started off with him rescheduling long-awaited plans and then showing up late, but you didn’t mind. He had told you he scored an internship at Stark Industries, and you swore you’d never felt prouder in your entire life.

He informed you that he could be called in at any given moment, which was his reason for leaving in the middle of your hangouts. You understood, and so, you encouraged him to do so.

But then, as time went by, you noticed a change. Instead of postponing the plans, he’d cancel them all together and wouldn’t make up for them. And sometimes, in the rare occasion in which he did postpone them, he’d stand you up, keeping you awake until you were on the brink of sleep.

He apologized multiple times for doing so, blaming it on the time the internship took for him, and you let it go, even when it became a pattern to leave you stranded.

You were okay with it.

Until it became too much.

During lunch, you could never find him, which ended up with you eating alone. During the only class you shared with him, he’d zone out while you were talking and completely ignore you. You’d normally come out of your last period ready to see him standing by your locker to begin your journey home, but he stopped being there, and you would walk home alone.

Texts and calls went unnoticed, and you felt the barrier he had placed between the two of you grow higher and higher as the time passed by.

What bothered you is that it was just with you. He acted completely normal around Ned. You often saw them chatting and laughing while you watched from afar, heart breaking into two as you wondered where you went wrong. You inspected every text message you sent and every conversation you had, often staying up late re-reading it until you reached the top. You just didn’t understand what happened.

One day, you approached him after school, running after him as he bolted through the school’s gates into the outside.

“Hey!” You called as you caught up to him and grabbed his arm, which flexed beneath your grip. You sighed and slightly loosened your grasp, “Can, um, can we talk?”

Peter visibly gulped, hesitantly nodding as his eyes bounced around your figure, never looking at you.

“Peter.” You ran a hand through your hair, carefully choosing your next words as to approach this topic cautiously, “What’s going on with you? You..you’ve been acting weird and distant. D-did do something?”

“I’m not acting weird,” Peter said, almost offendedly, quick to defend himself.

“Peter we haven’t hung out in weeks because you’ve been canceling them.” You retaliated.

“I told you, I-it’s the internship.”

You frowned, heart clenching at the tiredness that seeped into his voice, “I know.” You gave him a small smile, hoping for one in return, “I’m your best friend. I’m always here for you, you know.”

“I-“ He sharply inhaled, scratching the back of his head with his shaking left hand. “I don’t want you to be.”

Your smile instantly dropped, feeling a painful nudge in your stomach, “What?”

“I don’t..this isn’t working, Y/n. We can’t be friends anymore. I’m done.” He said. And so easily, too.

I’m done, he’d said.

Your heart stopped for a moment, taken aback by his bluntness and the harshness that came with his words, “What? Why? N-no.” You denied, "You’re just gonna leave? You can’t do that, I..What did I do?”

“Nothing. It’s just..it’s just better this way.” Peter visibly gulped, looking around the streets like he wasn’t standing there, breaking your fragile heart into pieces while you were trying your hardest to not fall apart right in front of him.

Dignity was still a thing. But so was your friendship.

“I can’t fix this if you won’t let me, Pete.” You pleaded, hoping he’d admit that something was wrong - that it wasn’t you that he was pushing away, that there was a reason for him doing so. You could fix this. You could.

“There’s nothing to fix. I don’t want to be friends, that’s it.” He shrugged, shuffling backward, getting ready to make a run from it.

“No,” you stopped him, grabbing his hand softly, despite the tears that already ran down your face, “There has to be a reason! Y-you can’t just leave like that! Give me a reason! WHAT DID I DO?!”

When he didn’t respond, you gave his loose hand a squeeze and wiped your tears with your sleeve, already feeling stupid for the amount of vulnerability you were displaying, especially when you weren’t getting any sort of reaction out of him besides coldness.

“Peter. Peter, please, just l-let me fix this.” You said, voice cracking, "You’re all I have left. Please don’t do this.”

You were begging. You knew you were, but you couldn’t let him leave without putting up a fight. You were a step away from begging on your knees, but you didn’t. You were able to stop yourself from doing so, but you still believed you could get through whatever this is - you were so sure of it.

But you never did.

And you swore he had ripped your heart from your chest, stepped on it, and nonchalantly walked away, leaving you to deal with the pain of the heartbreak on the sidewalk.

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