#but man waking up to the idea that ned is back. do not recommend

[matrixrry]

.

[lennyinlordran]

The Zaradus Regime [Parts 1-2]

Part 1 A news broadcast from Donna Luther’s favorite televangelist, Reverend James.

“We have to interview a local with evidence of a diabolical extraterrestrial conspiracy, introducing John Doe!”

Leo, talking on the phone with Sasha, blithely asked, “So, know about any alien plots to destroy the town?”

“No. Well, outside of my selling the extracts of Venusian Fruit as an antidepressant, with FDA approval, no.”

“Right. Just checking.”

On the news, the nonsense continued. A recommendation that all the “good, honest Christians” wear metallic head coverage during an upcoming concert for local bands. Some poorly evidenced nonsense. The only real draw being “a man of god says it.”

Later Sasha was out for a walk, when she noticed that several people were wearing tinfoil hats, and several more were glaring at her with strange suspicion.

Sasha saw a guy on a street corner yelling “get your hats here! Tinfoil lined and socially accepted!”

Sasha made a mental note to investigate this “John Doe”

She hadn’t gone to a church in years. She had renounced her faith in Zhal'lel, and saw no reason for faith.

This would be a strange encounter indeed. Sasha went into church after the service to see Reverend James hanging out with church staff, chatting it up sharing jokes.

Sasha opted for the direct approach.

“Reverend James. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

James turned to look at Sasha, his face shifting from Merriment to a leery glare.

“And you are?”

“Sasha Kramer. On your morning news, you interviewed a man named ‘John Doe’.”

“Named what?”

“John Doe. Do you think-“

“Never heard of him.”

Sasha stopped. “I see. Good day.”

She left and went to speak with Rhett.

Late that night, she broke into the local television Centers. With a new gadget at her disposal- a piece of sophisticated spyware developed by the Rhumerians during-

Basically, it mimics the FaceTime functions of a cellphone, and has no other features. Shaped like a Polaroid, but with a microphone attached.

Sasha had her friend Rhett “on call” here.

However, their combined deductive powers couldn’t find any sort of alien tampering.

“Looks like the Broadcast is genuine”

“So Reverend James is a damn liar. Guess I’ll have to locate ‘John Doe’ some other way.”

Sasha cut the call and left. How best to go about the investigation… she had an idea.

Part 2 She returned to her attic base crawling up the side of the house and through the balcony.

In the room, Racks of soil filled with plants under otherworldly lights from machines lined one wall, an set of storage boxes sat in the corner. From the balcony, moonlight streamed into the room, highlighting the curled nest of the room primary occupant. Next the nest, a low table occupied by strange instruments of glass and metal, in various states of dis-and-reassembly.

On the side of the table adjacent to the nest, Ned was sitting down playing on a game boy.

“Sasha, why don’t you have any family photos?” he innocently asked.

“Not your business. Can you get out of here? Please?”

“Why?” Asked Ned.

“Some of the plants here are- I’ll explain later.”

“Do you have a boyfriend? And why are your eye whites… not white?” Asked Ned.

Sasha struggled to refrain from giving out a growl of vaguely sociopathic hatred, and said, in a monotone of polite dismissal,

“No. Don’t want one either. Please leave the room.”

“You sound like a serial killer.” Said Ned. “I’m bored. My mum’s asleep and I want a bedtime story.”

“Just a moment.” Sasha slithered back out the window. She wanted to do the pragmatic thing, slapping a sleep patch on him and then letting exhaustion take her. She opted to do the “right thing”

Sasha crawled onto the attic ceiling, then proceeded to crawl down the attic stairs.

When she returned, Ned was patiently waiting for an actual answer. She sat down in her nest, opened up a picture book, and motioned for Ned to sit on her lap.

After waking up the next day with an unconscious 10-year-old and children’s storybook on her lap, Sasha briefly wondered where this newfound maternal side came from, before opted to clear her brain and get to work.

She went checked over her weaponry. She still had the .5 kilos of thermite, she still had the stun-pistols, and the sleep patches. Mind you, the patches and stunners only worked on humans.

And the Portal-projector.

She noted that this was the second to last day before the concert.

She went to the concert hall, to examine the equipment there.

[spicler-man]

I have been looking for NWH fics forever but I haven't been able to find any. Would you recommend some, please?

Have a nice day!

oooooh Yes here! i hope you enjoy!!

All I’ve ever known (is how to hold my own) by notapartytrick

Peter Parker fishes out a five. “Thank you.” MJ stows it, feeling like an interaction like this can’t just end here. But here they are. “No problem.” “I’ll, uh, see you around,” he tells her with a little tilt of his head as he turns away. And before he goes, he fishes something out of his back pocket and shoves it in the tip jar without looking at her. He speed-walks out. MJ stares at his retreating back. Then she stares at the tip jar, no longer empty. She fishes out the bills: a ten and two fives. A ten? And– Peter Parker just tipped her twenty dollars.

---

Michelle Jones, begrudging waitress at Peter Pan Donuts, comes across a customer who feels strangely familiar and decides to do what she does best - solve the case.

Loved You To Pieces by GingerQuery(PeppermintTeagan)

But time is on nobody's side --- Peter Parker keeps coming in to the bake shop, keeps invoking deja vu in Ned and MJ, keeps walking out with a sad smile, a coffee, and a pleasant goodbye. Well, Ned Leeds has some new tricks up his sleeve and wants to know just who this strange stranger is. The answer only leads to more questions.

mongoose dreams by sushicorps(Inclinant)

The formidable Morgan Stark - also princess, miniature terror, little miss, baby mo, precious Morguna - has also once been described by someone (actually one formerly existing Peter Parker) to be as headstrong as a wild mongoose.

So at the grand age of almost six years old, Morgan has now decided (declared) that she wants her entire family at her birthday party.

Yes, including her big brother that no one seems to remember.

Hold On To It All My Son by for_the_night

*NWH SPOILERS* Tony wakes up one day feeling like he’s missing something. He couldn’t understand why he risked his life inventing time travel for Spider-Man when he didn’t even know the face behind the mask, so Tony makes the decision to find out. He gets more than he bargained for.

…

“That’s you isn’t it? Wow look at you go.” The overwhelming feeling of deja vu almost made Peter’s knees buckle. He couldn’t go through this again.

Where Is My Brother? by eliotandq

They were supposed to celebrate Christmas together, but neither Peter nor Aunt May ever showed up. And then Happy came and told them the sad news of Aunt May's death, but no one mentioned Peter. No one has ever mentioned Peter, and when Morgan asked about him, everyone pretended not to know him.

Except they didn't pretend and she was the only one who remembered Peter. Her brother.

If This Is What I Get, I Will Take It by mikimouze16

NWH Spoilers

Peter had been putting of visiting Ned and MJ because he wasn’t sure if he could handle them not recognizing him. Thankfully, their bond is stronger than any magic spell that can be cast.

Or where I fix the ending scene because it’s been weeks and I’m still broken, thank you very much.

even from the stars, he loves you 3,000 by rainbowanatomy

Between studying for the GED and taking care of the neighborhood, Peter Parker babysits for a pair of twins. Who happen to be friends with Morgan Stark. Which is why he's at a birthday party. Morgan Stark's, specifically.

Marshmallows & Chocolate Shavings by spideybegins

“This is you, isn’t it?” Tony held it out. Peter reached out, his hands shaking as he took it from him.

It was the picture they took at Stark Industries. They needed proof for May that he was working as an intern there, so Tony had a certificate made. It was Peter’s idea to give each other bunny ears, but Tony was the one who held the certificate upside-down. They’d barely known each other then, but they’d both laughed when they realized his mistake.

A couple of tears ran down his cheeks as Peter gripped the frame. “Yeah,” he choked out. “That’s— That’s me.”

Peter knew Tony had the photo. He kept it in his lab. Once the spell was set and done, he figured Tony would’ve thrown it out. Why would he hang onto a picture of someone he didn’t recognize?

Peter never told him, but knowing it was there made him feel so important. He should’ve told him.

“You’ve shivering,” Tony commented, just like Pepper had. His anger had turned into a shade of worry and concern. With a small shake of his head, he moved out of the way. “Get in here.”

—

Or the one where the world has forgotten Peter, and Peter still finds himself at the Starks' cabin anyway. Set after Spider-Man: No Way Home. Spoilers ahead.

and a liiiiittle self promo 

the day the universe forgot by littlepogchampion

Peter is starting to forget. He can't remember why he's in his suit, or the crimes he's stopped, or little details about people he loves. What's happening? Why does he have to lose everything?

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs

I haven’t done this in a while, recommending fics. But there were some fics these past couple of months that put a smile on my face, so I want to spread that joy to others. Seriously, they’re so good and I want to shove all these recs at people and have them appreciate them as much as I do. Everyone stay safe and I hope these recs make staying home easier for everyone!

-

[Fullmetal Alchemist]

maestoso by novalotypo

Edward Elric is about eleven when he stands up, makes an extended effort to knock as many books off the old bastard’s shelves as he can, and says, “Fuck the military. Al, you interested in music at all?”

Everybody's got their own ideas of retirement.

The Elrics don't even do retirement, what with the world trying to blow itself up every other month, but this shit has got to take the fucking cake.

(You want a fic that’ll make you cry tears of uncontrollable laughter? I point you to this fic. The shenanigans, the fact this is a time travel fic, the fucking headaches the Elrics cause, the I-Have-No-Fucks-To-Give attitude. Legend.)

-

[The Magnus Archives]

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way.

OR: in which Jon is not the only Archival monster for very long, Sasha James is competent, Tim Stoker finds some catharsis, Helen Richardson is sexy, Melanie makes a very successful youtube channel revamp, and Martin Blackwood gets to brew a lot of new friends tea.

(This is literally the most creative, fucking inspired tma fic I’ve ever read. You literally will never be able to guess what happens next and it’s just so much fun.)(Kinda Time Travel, you’ll understand what I mean if you read it, it’s so well done and amazing.)(The characterization for Sasha makes me want to weep, I’ve never seen her characterized this way before and it makes SO MUCH SENSE.)(@savrenim you are a QUEEN and you inspire me to be a better writer.)

-

[Marvel]

Crash Landing by Nyxelestia

"You could've left me there," Adrian murmured, jerking his head back towards the burning beach in the distance. "For Stark and his DODC people to find me. Liz and Doris' lives would've actually fallen apart with my arrest, and all my work to take care of them would've gone to waste. You could've just left me there...but you didn't. So I'll make you another deal."

Peter clenched his hands, fists shaking hard. "I'm giving you a second chance - but if you go back to what you were doing...I can't make any promises."

"It would be stupid of me to expect you to, after all this," Adrian said. He looked at Peter, at the hints of bruises and all the blood. He had trouble reconciling this fragile-looking kid with the superhuman who's been destroying his business, his daughter's homecoming date with the boy he'd nearly killed. "That's not my deal. My deal is, we both walk away, and neither of us say a word about any of this to Liz. Anything else - we'll cross those bridges as we come to them."

Swallowing, the boy nodded.

Instead of gift-wrapping the Vulture for Happy to find, Peter lets Mr. Toomes go.

(Honestly, I’m disappointed in the fact there’s not many Vulture-centric fics out there. This was so great and Peter was wonderfully characterized here along with Ned.)(I have a deep craving now for more Adrian Toomes fics and I blame this fic for that. I don’t regret it one bit.)

-

[The Witcher]

all some children do is work by some_stars

It's two children, he realizes as they slowly sit up. They look about eight or nine, not that he's much judge of children's ages. One is a girl, dark-haired, in a shabby dress. The other is a boy. His clothes aren't much better, and his hair isn't much lighter than the girl's, but his eyes—

His eyes, Jaskier realizes with a distant sense of horror, are gold like a cat's. His mind makes one more valiant effort to keep from connecting the obvious dots and recognizing them, and then it finally does.

"How in the unholy fuck," Jaskier says to no one, "did this shit happen?"

(So sweet it’ll give you cavities. Break your own heart reading this, I dare you.)

of music and motion and love by WriteThroughTheNight

When Jaskier was four, he slipped his mother’s watch and went to the field to gather a bouquet of dandelions. He climbed back into the yard, as stealthy as a child really cared to be, and crept over to the barn. In the barn, lived a secret. (The man he thought his father said the secret was a monster, a plague. His mother said the secret was his sister.)

OR

Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother.

(YENNEFER AND JASKIER AS SIBLINGS ENOUGH SAID. FIENOWPAFE)

to render it transparent by theundiagnosable

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

(Where Geralt wakes up in the future and Jaskier and Geralt live at the Coast.)(They are Disasters. What else is new.)(Everything’s lovely and emotionally repressed.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

if I give you my heart, will you promise not to break it? by janie_tangerine

Ship: Brienne/Jaime

“It’s not broken,” she protests.

“Please,” Ronnet goes on, “it’s all red. Red hearts like that are broken and their owners are either useless or more effort than they’re worth. ‘Course you would get a broken one, who else would want you?”

“It’s not,” Brienne hisses, and at that he stops talking. She realizes her voice had turned cold. Very cold. A coldness that doesn’t belong to her, she’s never sounded like that, but it seems to come from the pulsing warmth in her hands, again - “and the day I find him you’ll see he’s not broken or damaged or unworthy. And I sure as the seven hells hope no one got saddled with yours.

in which soulmates find each other through one of them having the other's heart.

or, in which Brienne gets a mostly broken one the day Jaime Lannister kills Aerys Targaryen.

(So this is a series, just want to put that out there. And I read through all of them cause I just couldn’t do otherwise. Brienne is obviously the bravest, most noble, most amazing of course. And Jaime makes me want to punch a wall because feels.)(This soulmate idea is so creatively and well done, has become one of my favorite soulmate tropes.)(There are a lot of interesting pairings in this series and the way the author went about the relationships and this expanding world has me giving all the yeses.)(Please read!!!)

-

[Gilmore Girls]

Weather Me by missgoalie75

Ship: Paris Geller/Jess Mariano

A year in the life of Paris and Jess.

(PARIS GELLER AND JESS MARIANO AT THEIR VERY BEST HOLY SHIT!!! I can hear their voices in every line, every thought, every damn interaction and I am so in love it's ridiculous. Paris in particular won me over, I have become incredibly fond of her and it's honestly brilliant! And Jess has a beautiful mind and I love him, I do. God, do I.)(missgoalie75 did it again.)

Living With It by thesaltyavocado

Ship: Lindsay Lister/Jess Mariano

#Future Fic, #Post-Season/Series Finale, #So Your Ex is Now Your Step-Cousin, #And You're Dating Her Ex's Ex!, #A Step-by-Step Guide to Getting Over It

(There’s no summary, it’s a series, and I’m in LOVE. I am a sucker for really, really well done rare pairs, and this is the rarest of them all. Go for it. It’s beautiful.)(Also, the author is literally the BEST, the VERY BEST at making me want to ship people I never even thought of. They’re awesome.)(check out all their fics, I went on a spree and you should too.)

-

[The Hunger Games]

Speechless by thesaltyavocado

Ship: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket

Effie was kind, she was warm, she offered comfort to anyone who needed it, microphones be damned. She had a reputation for generosity amongst the Victors that Haymitch hadn't paid any attention to, because he was so paranoid about showing his hand that he barely even said her name around other people, barely even acknowledged her existence. Everyone thought he hated her, Beetee had explained. Everyone knew the stories about how he'd made her cry in the sponsor's lounge at the opening of the 61st Games, how he'd blown up at Cecelia that time when she'd asked him to pass a message onto Effie for her. Is that why none of you assholes ever liked me? Haymitch had asked. No, we didn't like you because you were a prick, Beetee told him, which was fair enough.

(The best, and I mean the best fic I’ve ever read regarding this pairing. Nothing is ever going to top this. Nothing.)(The WORLDBUILDING. FUCK.)(Literally everyone is perfectly characterized in new, heartbreaking ways and I just, fuck. Fuck.)(I don’t care if you’re not into the fandom, this will make you fall in love and see the characters with new eyes and it’s absolutely stellar.)(I want to cry.)(You don’t even have to be here for the ship, just be here for the writing, characterization, the WORLDBUILDING, fucking everything.)(Please.)(This fic NEEDS more love.)(I have fallen in love with Effie Trinket.)(This is my life now.)

-

[Harry Potter]

Walkabout by thesaltyavocado for teethandstars

Ship: Hermione Granger/Sirius Black

"You are always far too handsome for your own good," Hermione says, "in any timeline."

(The author strikes again when it comes to shipping people I don’t expect to love, yet here it is. Such an interesting fic where the time travel already happened and it’s the aftermath that the fic covers.)(Again, characterization off the fucking charts and I just want to wrap myself up in their words and live there.)(A story about broken people trying to find peace within themselves.)

-

[Stranger Things]

and you hunger for the time by missgoalie75

Ship: Steve Harrington/Kali Prasad

after the battle of starcourt, steve figured the rest of the summer would involve not working, waiting for his busted ribs and face to heal, hanging out with robin and the party, and trying to ignore the panic he feels whenever he thinks about his future. All that does happen, but other unexpected things happen too.

(Bet you didn’t see this ship coming, did you? Neither did I, yet here we are.)(missgoalie75 is the gift that keeps on giving.)(But in all seriousness this is my favorite characterization of Steve, hands down.)(This fic needs more kudos and comments and basically all the love it deserves.)(God tier characterization and relationship development.)

-

[Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas]

nfwmb by perennial

Ship: Eris/Proteus

The goddess of discord isn't careless enough to fall in love with a do-gooder mortal prince—unless, of course, she doesn't know it's happening.

(Okay, hear me out. I know it’s weird, I can feel the judgement coming from my screen. But I am weak in the face of rare pairings that actually work and the fact I fucking loved this movie ever since I was a kid, okay? So if anybody else loves this fandom as much as I do, stand up and take notice of this. I am here to tell you there are worthwhile fics to be read in this very, very small fandom.)

I'll keep turning down the hands that beckon me to come by deavors

Ship: Marina/Proteus/Sinbad

“Jealous?” Sinbad says, voice easily and casually mocking, but there’s something else under there, an undertone that speaks of so many things Marina isn’t even close to understanding.

“Extremely,” says Proteus, cracking a half-smile, but Marina feels like he’s not joking.

They stare at each other for a few moments. Marina’s gaze flickers between them. Sun and moon. She wishes—she doesn’t know what she wishes. Her heart is twisting again, but in a different way from before: as though it’s half-empty and longs to be full.

(You have no idea how in love I am with the idea of these three being in a poly relationship. No idea.)(I’ve been shipping all of them the moment I was introduced to the idea of polyamory relationships.)(This is THE poly ship for me.)(Nothing’s ever gonna come close. Nothing.)

-

[Crossovers]

Trust Me, I'm an Alchemist by metisket

Fandoms: Yuri!!! on Ice, Fullmetal Alchemist

In which Yuri Plisetsky began life with the name Edward Elric, and this has made the world of figure skating a significantly stranger and more alarming place.

“Are you saying you lived a life of crime before you began skating?” “I’m gonna have to check the statute of limitations on a couple things and get back to you on that.”

(Meme Alien Edward, Ninja Alphonse who’ll smile at you as you Perish, Disaster Gay Victor, Disaster Gay Maniac Yuuri.)(If this isn’t incentive enough, the Elrics traumatizing and delighting social media with their Life Stories and their Life of Crime.)(Feral Elrics being Feral Elrics.)(It’s the kind of fic that gets better with every chapter, cause the shenanigans just keep ESCALATING.)

[samsterham]

The Fuckening, Entry # 1

Despite the novel covid-19 being around for a pretty hot minute now, I have only been self-quarantined about 6 days. There have been several confirmed cases in my county, and today the county had it’s first death.

If it’s not apparent by the title, I’ve decided to officially from here on out refer to this entire debacle as The Fuckening. I will swear. A lot. 

I figure it might be somehow lucrative to record my experiences throughout the pandemic, at least as it is pertinent to my country & area. Aside from broader, more public events, it might be interesting to someday look back on my day to day & how we dealt & felt & what we did. I should have been keeping a diary of my life anyway & had intended to despite never making it a priority. Now is as good a time as any.

Anyhow, I anticipate this being a rather disjointed project, variable in moods, topics, formats, etc. & rife with grammatical errors. I haven’t decided how revealing of my identity & location I would like to be, I suppose that’s something I’ll decide as I go. All I’ll reveal for the moment is I live in the U.S. in Pennsylvania.

Recapping what I can right now:

I’m in about day 6 of self-quarantine. All schools have cancelled regular classes and have gone exclusively online, as has happened pretty much everywhere else. My community college also followed suit along with probably every college & university at this point. I’ve had a little over a week off for faculty & staff to prepare for the shift. Class resumes this upcoming wednesday online for the rest of the semester. Curious to how they’re going to structure & grade our biology lab credits. 

Bars & restaurants have been state-mandated to shut down except for take-out. Now the liquor stores have shut down as well. Somehow the beer distributor down the street is still open however...

Me & K (boyfriend) haven’t gone nuts with preparations, but we did have 1 significant shopping trip before the state officially began recommending social distancing. We got enough non-perishables for several weeks. We’ve made a couple mini trips for things like milk & fresh veggies. 

I also have a few immunocompromised friends who I’ve gone shopping for. I expect to continue doing so as needed. One such friend has a bitch of a rare disease which is frankly on the verge of killing her if she sneezes or coughs too hard. There is so, so much more to it than that, than I dare go into here for privacy reasons but I have spent the last month as one of her actual medical advocates. She is partly the reason I would like to focus my education and eventual clinical research on rare diseases such as hers. Anyhow, despite it being flat out unsafe, she was discharged from the hospital yesterday as my city prepares to get slammed with covid-19 cases.

Both my cats got a stomach bug just 2 days into self-quarantine. It began with Crowley puking, then what looked like bloody emesis & trip to the emergency vet. Sent home with stomach meds & instructions for supportive care before jumping into more than basic testing. He was fine within 36 hours, just in time for Aziraphale to become a little vom-bomb. This lasted for 3 days, with many debates as to when we should finally get her poor little fuzz butt medical attention. She thankfully healed on her own, just as I was about to break down & take her to the vet.

Not to make light of the fact that they were sick, but Zira’s throw-up noise is THE FUNNIEST sound I’ve ever heard in my life. It begins with that usual choppy but also deep guttural *hork hork hork* followed by a very abrupt & very loud  scream “rrRAAHH!” as things made their way up & out. I couldn’t help but kinda lose my shit as I pet her & cleaned up the mess. I’m probably going to hell for this.

Me & K have enjoyed spending more time together during quarantine. We have only had 3 friends over since, all being of our regular weekly crew of Sarah, Greg, & Amanda, & all of who are otherwise self-quarantined. Sarah & Amanda came over last Saturday, Sarah made “Quarantinis,” a goddamn delicious cocktail of vodka, lemon, honey, & crystalized ginger. Us girls & K got quaran-trashed, ate dinner together, played Cards Against Humanity, & watched Waking Ned Devine.

We have been making the FUCK outta some food. This is easily the healthiest we’ve eaten in a long time. Thank God we both can cook.

The weather has been fairly forgiving & the two of us have made efforts to get outside as much as possible while it’s nice. K works from home with some good flexibility & I was fired about a month before corona shit hit the fan. We’re enjoying the local parklette & the humongous cemetery in walking distance from us. 

Yesterday was mostly blustery & rainy, save for a 2 hour break in the weather where it was sunny and around 70 degrees. We trekked through said cemetery. As we were on our way out, we rounded the bend of one of the long paths, along the side of a large grassy hill. From that initial perspective of the hill, there was a large pile of indiscernible objects about halfway up the hill. As we came around, we noticed the pile was next to a grave very freshly covered in dirt. Upon closer inspection it became apparent that the “pile” was actually a man wrapped in blankets, with one arm stretched over the dirt of the grave. On the road at the bottom of the hill was what I assumed to be his car. I don’t know who he was, I don’t know who he lost, but they’re burned into my memory forever. It was one of those sights that breaks your entire heart. I cried a little & held K’s hand a little tighter as we made our way toward the gate. K kissed the top of my head & gave me a loving squeeze.

 I didn’t get fired over anything serious; my chronic migraines plus a personal failure to obtain intermittent FMLA in a timely manner resulted in termination. My bosses didn’t want to let me go, but you can only fight HR of a corporate health system so much. Oh well. I wasn’t happy there anymore anyway. After 3 years I was bored, having trained up as much as possible without my degree. Some toxic personalities made their way onto our floor staff in the last year which made some shifts absolute hell despite my efforts to avoid them & remain utterly professional. Aside from running out of money, I’ve been incredibly relaxed since being let go. I’ve even lost 4 pounds in the last month. My hair is currently a weird ginger-pink, the result of a failed self bleach job, but it’s not entirely embarrassing so I’m going to let it recover before I try it again & go teal.

I never got around to watching Breaking Bad when it was popular, but last night I finally saw the first episode. K has seen it before, it’s one of his favorite tv shows & he’s ecstatic to watch it together. One episode legit got me hooked already. I know the premise of the show & I can’t wait to see how it pans out.

The political fuckery around this has been.... ugh. I wanted to say “staggeringly defunct” but what else is there to be expected from this current administration? I have designed most of my tumblr to be apolitical but that will change with these specific entries. I’m politically outspoken on Facebook & Twitter & I wanted one or two platforms that could just be fun and neutral. My current politics are very leftist, a head-spinning 180 degree turn from my upbringing & early voting habits. The last four years have sent me purposefully, intentionally & determinedly headlong into the progressive movement, feminism, and hunger for democratic socialism. The only conservative thing left about me is my stubborn remaining infatuation with firearms & gratitude for the 2A. Counterintuitively I’m very pro-sensible gun control, but having the discussion with either side of the issue mostly leaves me wanting to knock heads together. 

I digress, the administration’s response to the pandemic has been unsurprisingly subpar, yet somehow not as awful as I expected. Trump went from “not a big deal” & “liberal media hoax” to “oh shit, I actually better get my shit together for this” real quick. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an election year or if there’s actually a shred of competency that’s been hiding under the comb-over but I’ll take what we can get from him, including that $1000 check. Getting unemployment has been a bitch. None of this however, changes the fact that Republicans have known about the crisis since December & instead of preparing the public, decided insider trading was a better idea. This doesn’t change the fact that the DOJ is trying to invoke indefinite detention as a “crisis response” and the only thing standing in the way are House Democrats. And it doesn’t change the fact that our hospital system is overloaded & underfunded, and the Republican controlled government would still rather bail out large corporations as we plunge into an inevitable recession. 

I’ve spent too much energy fighting ignorant shit sticks on the internet over all this, including people I know in real life. I gotta keep remembering that all I can do is my best, that you can’t change the world but you can make a dent. On that note, I finally introduced K to Danny DeVito’s cinematic masterpiece Death To Smoochy.

Today I finished reading Darker Than Amber by John D. MacDonald. Quick, fun read, definitely a product of it's time.

That’s all I have in me for today. My neck hurts. Sleep sweet and WASH YOUR FILTHY PAWS. 

[thundrpilot]

Marvel Fic Rec 5/∞

Marvel Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a link for the entire Masterlist. ( ** =  favorites ) 

       **Circles of Rust by keroseneSteve

Word count:  57,815 (22/22)

Summary:  Yinsen dies too soon, and Tony doesn't know how to deal with what he realizes will come if he ever makes it back to America. Instead, he uses his escape to confirm his supposed death, moving to urban India to start a new life as a mechanic with a secret past time of blowing up every piece of Stark weaponry Stane Industries can throw at him. Audis, cats, SHIELD, Bruce, a fair amount of explosions, snark from all sides, ghosts, art, and palladium poisoning with a side of terrorism and a certain defrosted Cappucino.

Comments:  Part 1 of the Drought series. Definitely one of my all-time favorite Marvel fics. The Tony and Bruce bromance gets me every time. 

       Peter’s Emergency Contact by tamaranianprincess

Word count:  4,267 (3/?)

Summary:  Peter’s school doesn’t believe Tony is actually Peter’s emergency contact. When Tony clears it up, he and Peter will have to deal with the public aftermath.

Comments:  Part 2 of the Emergency Contacts series.

  Stellar Forge: From the Ashes by Bragi151

Word count:  3,670 (1/1)

Summary:  As the ashes of the Civil War settle, Tony Stark, rather than deal with the phone and olive branch sent to him by Steve Rogers, decides to focus on those left behind. After all, he won't be the only one looking for them, and they're far safer with him than they are with Thunderbolt Ross.

Or

How Laura Barton Took Over Tony Stark's Life

Comments:  Gen. Part 1 of the We Are All Stardust series.

    Poison Apple by whumphoarder

Word count:  5,229 (2/2)

Summary:  “I-I think something’s wrong with me.”

Ned gives a short laugh. “Pretty sure we established that when you puked in a corn maze. You’ve got like, food poisoning or something.”

Peter shakes his head. “No, not that.” He takes a few short breaths. “Chest feels weird. Kinda hard to breathe.”

Or

A field trip gone wrong leaves Peter and Ned wandering through a seemingly endless corn maze. This would be bad enough, but when Peter starts getting seriously ill on top of that, it all goes to shit.

    The Decathlon Team Field Trip by HolyKingWasteLand

Word count:  8,150 (1/1)

Summary:  Tony is Peter's guardian, and has been for a while. The two have gotten so used to each other that they refer to each other as father and son. While on a field trip to the Avenger's Facility, Peter calls him dad.

    It Was Probably The Pudding by Serendipity_Cometh

Word count:  77,286 (12/12)

Summary:  Given that over the course of the past eleven months Peter Parker hasn't contracted so much as a head-cold, the teenager thought it safe to assume that the whole 'irradiated spider bite' gig had equipped him with an immune system of steel that rivalled Captain America's.

So when he wakes up one night in the midst of the worst asthma attack he's suffered in almost eight years, neither he nor the rest of the team can think of a logical explanation.

And everything sort of goes downhill from there.(Set in an Alternative Universe where Peter moved into the Avengers’ Tower following the events of The Amazing Spider-Man.)

Comments:  Angst oh my god. Sickfic.

     Mr Stark Enough For You? (another field trip fic bc we don’t have enough) by Livinei

Word count:  7,054 (1/1)

Summary:  Peter isn’t worried because he thinks Tony won’t say yes, he’s worried because he’s sure Tony will. And he’s not sure how he feels about having his entire class waltzing around the place where he spends practically more time than in his own home, where he has his own room, and where he regularly eats Lucky Charms with one of the most influential men in the country, in his pajamas. Not that they’d ever know any of that. Tour groups don’t go to the living quarters of the Tower anyways, they hardly ever go past the 50th floor, Peter knows that. And it isn’t fair to his class if he doesn’t ask just because he…spends a lot of time there? Yeah, Peter sighs, he has to ask. He promised, anyways. 

      Basically a Detective by petreparkour

Word count:  14,394 (5/5)

Summary:  Flash knows there’s something up with Peter Parker. He knows. There’s no way he actually has an internship with Tony Stark. There’s no way that he knows Spider-Man.

He’s going to prove it. Now, if only he could actually find out where Peter keeps going... 

     Omnia Ex Nihilo by Daniela_is_not_amused

Word count:  5,157 (2/2)

Summary:  Pepper thought it would be a great way to kill two birds with one stone: first, explaining why this one particular kid was always hanging around the tower and Tony Stark himself without directly mentioning the rumours and speculations that the public had been throwing around and, second, to show people that the new Junior Intern programme is interesting, safe and a great advantage for every high school student that’s into science.

Or

I watched those interviews where Tom and RDJ highjacked each other's interviews one too many times, drank way too much coffee and this happened. I'm not sorry.

Comments:  Part 3 of the Life is whatever we conceive it to be series. 

     Repeat After Me by battybatzgirl

Word count:  3,896 (1/1)

Summary:  Tony’s face hardens as he says, “What kid.” “I don’t know, some twelve year old—” Below him, the kid coughs out, “Fifteen.” “—Fifteen year old—” Tony scrubs a hand across his face. “Don’t tell me he’s wearing a dorky shirt with a chemistry pun on it.” Rhodey frowns. That was oddly specific. Glancing down, he looks at what little he can see of the kid’s shirt—which isn't much since there’s so much blood now, but what could be once called a cartoon joke is printed on it. “Um, yeah?” “Son of a bitch.”

Otherwise known as how Rhodey finds out about how old Peter is, and how badly he needs to beat Tony with a stick. 

     Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain

Word count:  3,422 (1/1)

Summary:  Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.” 

     **Elevator Mishaps and Identity Reveals by HolyKingWasteLand

Word count:  6,325 (1/1)

Summary:  Peter takes a moment to take a good look at those around him. They're all terrified; even MJ looks a bit nervous, although she's hiding it well. Guy doesn't look calm anymore, his eyes are wide and frightened, and he flinches at every creak and shift. They're all breathing heavily as they try to stay calm, and it works somewhat, but not a lot. The box makes an ear-piercing screech, followed by a loud scary grinding noise and then.. they were falling.

OR;

Peter gets the Decathlon Team a tour at Stark Industries and something goes wrong, leading to the reveal that Peter is their friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. 

     Permission Slips Please by ShadowsintheClouds

Word count:  3,283 (1/1)

Summary:  The obligatory field trip to SI fic with my own twist on it. Takes place after chapter 24 of my fic "More Than He Seems" so it's recommended that you read that. 

     I’m the satellite (and you’re the sky) by CamelotQueen

Word count:  45,453 (12/12)

Summary:  When Tony went to the Parker household to recruit Spider-Man, he had no idea what he was signing up for.

AU where Tony is Peter's biological father and neither of them know. 

     Marvel Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a link for the entire Masterlist.

[txnysheart]

let’s get on with living (while we can) [5]

chapter 5: you fill up my senses

word count: 8368

warnings: cancer, angst, sad, throwing up, chemo side effects, dissociation, anxiety attacks (good times lmao)

summary: both tony and peter struggle with their mental health. ned and mj come for a visit.

read on ao3: x

playlist: x

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9

series masterlist | masterlist

━━━━━━━━

Forty-eight miserable hours later, the migraine let go when Peter threw up everything in his stomach. Tony hadn’t slept at all, on constant alert if anything should happen to his son. Steve had dozed off once for a couple of hours, leaning against Tony who was relieved to see him resting. As much as they wanted to squeeze Peter between them to comfort him, they mostly left him alone so he could rest. Only going into his room to give him water, try to coax some food in him, make sure he took his pills, or replace the cold compress that the boy said made it a little better.

It was FRIDAY who alerted them that Peter was throwing up. They ran from the living room to discover that he’d made it to the bathroom by himself, and was knelt in front of the toilet. It was obvious he was in discomfort, tears streaming down his face, and he could barely get a breath in. Steve crouched down next to the boy, cooing and stroking his back comfortingly while Tony dampened a washcloth and got a glass of water ready for the boy.

The vomiting stopped, but he dry heaved for a little while before he sat back, out of breath. Steve gathered him up in his arms while Tony washed his face, smiling softly at his son. “You feeling any better?” he asked, brushing sweaty curls away from his pale forehead. Peter nodded. “Mhm, head feels better,” he mumbled with his eyes closed, “I’m tired.”

“You can go back to bed in a minute. Maybe brush your teeth first?” Steve suggested, and the boy nodded again, getting up on his feet with some help. Minding his mouth sores, he brushed away the acidic taste in his mouth before heading back to bed.

“Wanna take a bath when I wake up,” Peter yawned as Steve tucked him in, feeling gross, but too tired to do anything about it. “Sure, Peter Pan,” Tony smiled, stroking his hair soothingly. “Get some sleep,” Steve whispered and gave him a kiss on the forehead. The two men walked away from the bed to give their kid enough peace and quiet to sleep.

“We love you,” Tony spoke from the doorway, leaning into his husband who had an arm around his waist. “Love you too,” Peter responded, sounding fatigued, yet happy. With the door closed, Tony dropped his head to rest on Steve’s shoulder who then moved his hand up to his hair in an attempt to comfort. Tony hummed affirmatively, leaning even more of his weight on him.

If it hadn’t been for Tony sighing, straightening himself up and heading for the living room, Steve honestly would’ve scooped his sleep deprived husband up and carried him to bed. The tugging on his hand prompted him to follow him into the living room where Pepper and Happy were still sitting. Steve let Tony give them an update on how Peter was doing before he announced that they’d be going to bed, which Pepper was very pleased to hear.

They took a shower together; really just holding each other, whispering endearments, assuaging. Maybe they cried a little. Even if they did, there was no evidence of that when they had made their way into bed. There were only lazy smiles and loving eyes. A moment with just them. Thumbs stroking cheeks, lips brushing against each other and entangled limbs. They soothed each other to sleep.

──────── 

With the room being light proofed, Tony had no idea what time it was when he slowly opened his eyes, face smushed in his husband’s chest. Shifting so that he could see Steve’s face, he smiled when he saw his eyes were closed, heavy breaths coming out of his slightly open mouth. And he just looked at him. God, he loves him so much that it hurts.

Tony’s stomach growled, and he noticed how hungry he was, which meant that Steve would, without a doubt, be hungry as well. So he gently woke him up by pressing light to his neck and poking his face. “Honey, it’s time to wake up,” he mumbled against his soft skin, and got a tired groan in return. “What time is it?” Steve asked, pulling Tony to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Tony smiled, and tilted his head up for a proper kiss before answering. “Don’t know, I haven’t checked yet. FRI?”

“The time is currently 11 am. You’ve slept for approximately 12 hours. You both needed it,” the AI informed them, and Tony scoffed playfully at that last comment.

“Is Peter awake?” Steve asked.

“No, sir, he’s still deeply sleeping. I recommend not waking him.”

“Thanks, FRIDAY.”

Once again, Tony’s stomach growled. “You hungry? Wanna get some food?” Steve chuckled. “Let’s just stay here a little longer,” Tony decided, entertaining the feeling of escaping reality if they just stayed in bed. “Sure, doll,” Steve agreed, despite being quite hungry himself. Anything for Tony. Plus, he didn’t really mind just lying in bed with his husband. In fact, he adored it.

What finally roused them out of their drowsy state was FRIDAY informing them that Peter was beginning to wake up. “Let’s go. He said he wanted a bath, but I wanna get him to eat something first,” Tony said, pushing himself up with his good arm, and pulled a too big sweater over his head. “You like my sweater?” Steve asked, not really minding at all. It was one of his favorite things, seeing Tony in his clothes. “Oh, this is yours, dear? Well, gosh darn, I had no idea,” Tony teased. “I know you love it,” he added when he saw his husband just shaking his head fondly. He pulled some comfortable jeans on, Steve helping him with the zipper, button and belt. It had proved to be pretty tricky with a cast, but Steve was happy to help out in any way that was needed. He lifted Tony’s - his own - sweater up just a bit, pressing a sweet kiss to his hipbone before standing back up.

“We can do this,” he said, reassuring smile on his face as he held Tony’s cheeks. “Yeah? ‘Cause I’m not so sure,” Tony lamented, leaning into the touch. “Shh, none of that. We have a son to feed,” Steve whispered, letting his hands linger before dropping them from his face, one of his arms wrapping around the smaller man’s waist. “We sure do.”

Peter was sitting up, and smiled at his dads when they walked into his room. “Good morning,” he beamed, looking almost normal. “Good morning, sweetie. C’mon, let’s get some breakfast,” Steve said, grabbing Peter’s soft bathrobe and a pair of slippers for him.

A rush of dizziness passed through Peter when he stood up, thanks to how little he’d eaten. He held onto Tony’s hand as they walked, slowly, to the kitchen.

“What’re you hungry for, Petey?” Tony asked, opening the fridge.

“Take a wild guess,” the boy chuckled as he adjusted to sit more comfortably in one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

“Whatever could it be?” Steve joked, voice laced with fake confusion.

“I think it rhymes with groggy horn snakes,” Tony smirked, sending a playful wink to his son who giggled. He got the milk out of the fridge and looked over to his husband. “Omelette?” he asked, and Steve nodded with a soft smile on his face. “I’ve got it. Make the boy some groggy horn snakes,” Steve said, grabbing the eggs from Tony who snorted out a laugh.

“FRIDAY, add corn flakes to the shopping list,” Tony spoke up when he noticed they were almost out. “Corn flakes added,” the AI confirmed. “While we’ve got you here, FRI, why don’t you put on Pete’s favorite playlist?” Tony added while pouring milk over the corn flakes, his heart maybe skipping a beat when he saw the genuine smile on Peter’s face. FRIDAY didn’t answer, only streaming the playlist at a comfortable volume in the kitchen.

“Thanks, Dad,” Peter said when his bowl of cereal was placed in front of him, and mumbled the lyrics to You Make My Dreams between small mouthfuls of food. He ate all of it. He even drank some of the milkshake Steve had whipped together to be especially easy on his mouth sores.

“Can Ned and MJ come here this weekend?” Peter asked, both looking and sounding hopeful. He really wanted to see them before his hair started falling out. The thought made his stomach tighten. “Of course. Just text them and have them check it with their parents. I’m sure Dad will have someone drive them up here,” Steve confirmed, and Tony nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll send Happy down.”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t have to go all the way there and then back again. Can’t anyone else do it?” the boy inquired, not keen on inconveniencing Happy.

“Sorry, kid. I don’t want them to be driven by someone they don’t know. Happy’s the most reliable of ‘em all. I only want the best for your friends,” Tony explained. Sure, he could’ve hired another chauffeur for that particular drive, but MJ and Ned were just kids. Kids he’d grown to care about, as a matter of fact, and he knew he could trust Happy to get them from A to B safely. In response, Peter only shrugged, opening the group chat with his two best friends. At least he’d tried, and he could tell there was no changing his mind.

All of them having finished their breakfast, Peter squirmed a little when he brought his hands up to fix his hair. Ugh, gross, he thought when he felt how greasy it was. “I think I’ll have that bath now,” he said, nose scrunched up a little.

“I’ll come with you. Gotta make sure Dad’s cast doesn’t get wet,” Steve decided and put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Yeah, I’ll build us a fort in the meantime,” Tony grinned at his boy. “I’m not five,” he complained, albeit with a smile. “No, but you still love it,” Steve chuckled, and met Tony’s eyes, “and mind your arm, honey.” Tony playfully saluted the two before heading to the living room to get started on his project.

Without it needing to be said, Steve held his hand out for his son who held onto it all the way to the bathroom. But Peter was considerably less faint than the last time he took a bath, and managed to undress and climb into the tub by himself. His face scrunched up again when he realized he hadn’t had a proper bath since the day he got back from chemo. “What’s wrong?” Steve asked from where he was sitting next to the tub. “I just remembered that it’s been like five days since I last had a bath,” he explained.

“Huh, I didn’t realize. Not exactly the first thing on any of our minds right now.”

“That’s true. Maybe we could make, like, a schedule? So I remember to have baths and to eat and take my pills and stuff like that.”

“That’s a really good idea, Pete. Yeah, we can definitely do that.”

Peter hummed in response, feeling so relaxed in the warm water. It made Steve smile, and he squeezed a blob of shampoo into his hand to wash the kid’s hair. Once he had rinsed it out, he washed it again. And, as always, Peter loved the feeling of having his hair played with, but it also made him a little anxious.

“How does it work?”

“How does what work, sweetie?”

“My hair. How… how fast?”

“Oh. I’m not sure. It’s not gonna come out all at once, but I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“Okay.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay. If you want, we can… we can shave your head when it starts falling out. Only if you want to. Your choice.”

“I think I want that. I don’t wanna- I just… It’s- I-” Peter groaned in frustration at not being able to arrange his thoughts into words.

“Hey, you’re alright. Deep breaths. We don’t have to talk about it anymore right now.”

But Peter had already been pushed over the edge, and was struggling to get a breath in. Steve noticed his chest moving up and down too fast, irregularly, and the way he was clenching his fists. He hated how used he was to recognizing and soothing anxiety attacks. Tony was an anxious, PTSD-ridden mess, and their boy had always been anxious as well; long before Steve came into their lives. Always a little hesitant, sensitive to the world and his own mind.

With Tony, he’d just have to be there. To be an anchor to keep him from slipping too far away. It was different with Peter. Still so young, still getting to know himself and didn’t know what to do when it felt like he was having a heart attack and his lungs seemed to shrink with each breath. He needed someone to guide him back.

While many shied away from physical contact when having an anxiety attack, Peter desperately needed it. Steve didn’t even have to think before he got in the bathtub, fully clothed, pushing Peter forward gently so he could hold him from behind. Putting grounding pressure on the boy’s chest with steady hands, he spoke with a calm, yet clear voice into his ear.

“Five things you can see, sweetheart.”

Peter fought to get enough air to speak, trying so hard to follow the rise and fall of Pop’s chest behind him. “M-my hands. Showerhead. Sham...shampoo. Wall. Cabi...net.”

“Good. Four things you can touch.”

“Tub. Water. T-towel. Your hands.” Shaky fingers brushed over Steve’s hands before he dropped them back into the water.

“Three things you can hear. You’re doing so good, baby.”

Peter let out a short sob and immediately heaved for his breath. “Pops, I-I-”

“You can do it. I promise. Three things you can hear.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fan. You… you breathing. I don’t- I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do, you’re doing amazing. So good.”

“Water.” He had kicked his legs, causing some water to spill over the edge, splashing on the floor.

“I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell now. Really focus, Petey, and you’ll be alright,” Steve encouraged.

He felt a little clearer. “Soap. You.”

“Good, Peter. One thing you can taste.”

“Banana.” The milkshake Steve had made for him.

His breathing was still unsteady, but Steve exaggerated his own ones while keeping hold of the boy. Peter had explained that it helped because he felt as if he were about to just float away and that was scary. He whispered encouragements into his ear, rocking them gently from side to side for several minutes until he felt Peter hands on his own again; this time they weren’t shaking as bad.

“You with me, Peter?”

“Yeah, Pops. Thanks. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, nothing’s your fault.” He loosened his grip a little.

“Your clothes are soaked.”

“I have other clothes. And these’ll dry up. No damage at all done.”

Peter’s head slumped to rest on Steve’s shoulder. “As much as I want to let you sleep, you have to get out of there first,” he said, gently pushing him up so he could get out himself first to get a towel for him. Peter climbed out after him, closing his eyes when he was wrapped up in the towel. Anxiety attacks always wore him out. They drained him. He heard Steve talking to FRIDAY, mentioning Tony, as he mindlessly got dressed.

The bathroom door opened, and when Peter saw his Dad, he lazily leaned into him, sighing in relief when he felt him holding him securely. The two husbands had a silent conversation, which ended with Steve kissing the back of Peter’s head and then Tony’s cheek. “I’ll be right out,” Steve promised, ushering them out to the bedroom so Peter could lie down.

FRIDAY had alerted Tony about the situation mid-fort-building, causing him to slump down in the couch. He reminded himself a hundred times that Peter would be okay and that Steve was taking care of him in order not to end up panicking himself. Successfully, he kept himself relatively calm and was ready when FRIDAY told him that Peter was okay, but that they needed him.

The second Tony got under the covers, Peter buried his face in his chest. Tony’s left hand went to the boy’s hair, carding through it gently. By the time Steve joined them, Peter was positively asleep. Lying on the other side of Peter, Steve put an arm over both of them, caressing Tony’s shoulder. “You okay, darling?” Steve whispered, noticing his husband’s blank gaze. It took Tony a second, but he pulled himself down, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Yeah.”

“Are you grounded?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Promise.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

──────── 

Three and a half hours later when Steve woke up, it was almost four in the afternoon. Peter had turned around, now clutching at his shirt, but Tony’s hand hadn’t left the boy’s hair. Briefly, he considered getting up, but decided against it when Peter let out a huff and cuddled closer to him. He smiled, running a gentle hand down his arm before reaching over the boy to rest it on Tony’s waist.

A soft-spoken FRIDAY reminded him that it was nearly time for Peter to take some pills. As carefully as he could, he loosened Peter’s grip on his shirt, and pulled his arm out from under the boy’s light body. Peter mumbled something in his sleep, but otherwise stayed still. Rubbing his eyes, Steve tiptoed out of the room to get the pills needed from the kitchen.

Hopeful that Peter might even have an appetite, he dished up another smoothie for him, bringing that, the pills and a glass of water back to the bedroom. None of them had moved even an inch in their sleep, and Steve wished he could just let them be, but took a deep breath before gently shaking the boy’s shoulder.

“Peter, sweetie. You gotta wake up.” A small groan made him chuckle. “C’mon open your eyes, I can tell you’re awake,” Steve laughed, but Peter just groaned again, burying his face in the pillows. “Don’t make me bring out the tickle machine, kid,” Steve playfully warned, wiggling his fingers when Peter peeked up at him. Peter only yielded when he could feel fingers brushing over his sides.

“Okay, okay, I’m up!” he shrieked, and jerked away from Steve, startling Tony awake as he tried to cling to him for protection. “You good, Petey? Any reason you’re acting like a koala?” Tony laughed sleepily, but wrapped his arms around his son, making sure not to accidentally hurt him with his cast. He may or may not have - not on purpose - punched Steve in the face in his sleep several times. Steve could confirm that it hurt.

“Pops was trying to tickle me awake,” Peter giggled, sending a not at all harsh glare in Steve’s direction. “Oh, no, what a monster,” Tony gasped, clutching Peter to him even tighter. “Why was he waking you in the first place?”

Steve rattling a bottle of pills had Tony realizing the reason. After kissing his son on the forehead, he let him go so they could both sit up. Taking the pills noticeably affected the boy’s mood. He made a small grimace each time he swallowed one.

“Want a smoothie?” Steve offered him when he was done, holding it out for him. “Sure! Thanks, Pops,” Peter smiled. Genuine, but dulled. Eyes glossed over by lethargy. He drank it slowly, finishing the entire thing before sliding down to rest his head on Tony’s lap. The man carded his fingers through his son’s hair, a melancholic smile on his face as he heard soft snores coming from his mouth.

──────── 

The atmosphere was a lighter one that it had been a couple of weeks ago. They’d all gotten over the initial shock, and into a new rhythm. This was the way things were, and there was nothing to do but just live.

But Tony and Steve were a little worried about how Ned and MJ, who’d arrive at the compound in less than an hour, would handle it. First of all, they’d not seen him in weeks, and back then, he looked much healthier than now. The two dads weren’t sure how jarring of a change it was as they saw him every day. And, then, on top of that, were all the things that could go wrong. What if Peter got a migraine? Or puked his insides out? Or what if he simply had no energy to do anything but lie in bed? They were his best friends, they’d stay with him through anything, of course, but they were just kids. Or, what if one of them got a cold, and they’d have to send them back home immediately because Peter could not get sick.

“At some point, we’re gonna have to talk to their parents. Ask how much they think is okay for them to… to see,” Steve settled on, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I know. Let’s just let them enjoy this weekend for now, and I’ll set up a conference video call next week,” Tony agreed, sitting down on the other side of the kitchen island, facing his husband.

“How far out are they?” Leaning his chin on his right hand, Steve sported a lazy smile as he looked at Tony who unlocked his phone.

“About half an hour, loverboy.” When he had closed the app that showed Happy’s location, he met Steve’s loving gaze with a smirk of his own. “You’re very handsome, have I told you that?” Steve spoke with a low voice.

“Just every day for the past five years,” Tony laughed, reaching out to hold Steve’s hand. “Can’t believe I’m banging the Star Spangled Man with a Plan,” he teased, barely able to contain his laughter, making Steve snort. “You sure do know how to be romantic.” Steve got up to pour out his lukewarm coffee, stopping by Tony to kiss his temple, and leaned down so his lips were leveled with his ear. “And don’t kid yourself, doll. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan is the one banging you,” he whispered, poking his side, and chuckled smugly when his husband choked on his own spit.

“I’ll go get the kid,” Steve announced in an overly casual fashion. “Jeez, Steve,” the smaller man laughed breathily, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. Shaking his head with a grin, he stood up, getting the pills for Peter ready. Just as he sat a glass of water down on the counter next to the pills, he heard two pairs of footsteps getting closer.

“Let’s pop some pills!” Peter exclaimed with fake enthusiasm when he spotted the bottles lined up. “Love the eagerness, let’s get to it,” Tony laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair when he’d sat down. Taking those pills were routine now, and part of that schedule he’d created with his dads. Tony had connected it to FRIDAY as well, so the AI notified Peter whenever he forgot something; like eating or if he went a little too long without a shower or a bath. He’d had a go at taking a shower instead of a bath, much to his dads’ apprehension who had stood right outside the bathroom door the entire time. It would be an understatement to say they were relieved when he admitted to it being a bit too taxing for him and that he’d much rather have baths.

“They’re here!” Peter burst out excitedly after having been on his phone for a little while. “MJ texted me saying they just parked.” The boy was beaming, but had to stretch out his limbs to try and make his achy bones feel a little better. Thankfully, it wasn’t nearly bad as it could be. He couldn’t help but let out a giddy laugh when he heard them just outside the door, and he stood up to go greet them.

Happy had made sure both teens were healthy before bringing them, explaining that just a cold could be dangerous for Peter. Ned solemnly swore that he was, and MJ just mumbled “same”. No matter how hard she tried to act indifferent, Ned could tell she was excited - and nervous - to see Peter again.

It showed particularly well when she raised herself slightly up on her toes as Happy unlocked the front door of Peter, Tony and Steve’s apartment. He let them enter first, just as Peter rounded the corner and came face to face with them.

“Ned! MJ!” he exclaimed happily, scurrying over to pull them in for a group hug. He didn’t even have to persuade MJ this time. She willingly brought her arms around the two shorter boys. “You look like hell,” she smirked, arms crossed over her chest when they’d pulled away. “Thanks,” Peter laughed, pleased that MJ was acting like… well, like MJ.

With smiles on their faces, Tony and Steve watched them reunite. When first greetings were over and done with, MJ picked up her bag and turned to look at the two men. “Sup, guys?” she said casually. “Nice to see you again, MJ,” Steve chuckled, and then ruffled Ned’s hair. “And you, Ned.” Tony shook his head fondly, and made eye contact with Happy who was standing just inside the door. “They behave nicely on the way up?” he asked playfully. “Mostly, except for when they harassed me into getting them sundaes from McDonald's,” Happy faked annoyance.

“What were you expecting? We’re kids,” MJ deadpanned, but Peter was sure he saw the right corner of her lips lift just a tiny bit. The two boys had become quite good at reading MJ to understand her actual sentiment. “Come on, I’ll show you where we’re sleeping,” Peter said, motioning for them to follow him. He only had one bed in his own room, so he’d asked very nicely if the three of them could use the biggest guest room where there were two king sized ones. He’d share with Ned, as they’d done hundreds of times throughout the years.

Apart from seeing the obvious physical change Peter had gone through since they last saw him, MJ noticed very clearly how slowly he was walking. She was used to a ball of energy who took long, quick steps, but now he was shuffling along at a much slower pace. His baggy clothes hid how skinny he’d actually gotten, but his gaunt face and bony wrists were good indicators. Ned frowned when he saw Peter kept squeezing his right forearm as if it was hurting, but didn’t say anything. Because Peter looked so happy. He understood why his mom had warned him that it would be different.

As soon as they’d settled in, the three of them sat on Ned and Peter’s bed, watching a vine compilation, acting them all out. “Oh, I forgot, you guys are probably hungry if you only had an ice cream earlier,” Peter suddenly remembered, adjusting his position to relieve some of the pain. “I could eat,” MJ shrugged. “Yeah, same,” Ned agreed.

“Pizza?” Peter suggested, to which he received two affirmative nods. “FRIDAY? Ask Dad or Pops if we can order pizza.”

“Will do,” the AI confirmed, and in the few seconds it took for her to get back to them, he confirmed that Ned wanted pepperoni and MJ wanted vegetarian. Nothing had changed there.

“Just let me know what you want, and the pizza will be here less than half an hour,” FRIDAY explained, and so Peter did just that. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to eat any of it, but he was happy to get his best friends the food they wanted. He wasn’t about to serve them soggy corn flakes.

──────── 

“Okay, that is just miserable,” MJ commented, her mouth full of pizza as she watched Peter eat his cereal. “So I’ve heard,” Peter laughed as he took another bite. “I can pick off everything on a piece for you if you wanna try it?” Ned offered, feeling bad for his best friend.

“Thanks, Ned, but chemo kinda makes things taste weird,” Peter declined, deliberately leaving out the mouth sores. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted them to know. How much they could hear before it made them pity him even more - which he most certainly did not want. What they could see without being told seemed to be enough.

So he didn’t tell them that his bones and muscles were aching. That he could barely keep his eyes open. When he had to take pills before going to bed, he only told them he was going to say good night to his dads. And he didn’t say anything when MJ and Ned put on a movie he was too tired to even register the name of. He only fell asleep against Ned’s shoulder, who in turn carefully manoeuvred him down so he was comfortable, and tucked him in. MJ watched on with a skeptical face. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel, and she didn’t like that.

Before Ned could notice the look on her face, she scooted down in her bed, turning to face the wall. “Good night,” she said, barely loud enough for Ned to hear, but he whispered back. “Night, MJ.”

──────── 

Peter woke up at four thirty in the morning. It took him a few seconds to figure out that what had woke him up was… nothing? Both of his friends were deeply asleep, snoring lightly. Only thing he noticed was that he had to pee a little. So he got out of bed, tiptoeing to the en-suite.

With an empty bladder, he returned to bed. But as he laid there, bones still aching a little, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep.

Forty five minutes later, Steve and Tony were filled in on the situation by FRIDAY, the AI having been updated to notify them when something was out of the ordinary with Peter. You could say that the two dads had grown a little paranoid.

“Right, uhm… What about Ned and MJ?” Tony yawned, not overly concerned. Peter was just awake. There wasn’t anything wrong.

“Both asleep, sir. Would you like me to wake them?”

“No, let them sleep. Thanks, FRI. Let us know if Peter is still awake in half an hour.”

“Got it, boss.”

“He’s been sleeping a lot lately. Maybe he’s just not tired,” Steve attempted as an explanation as to why their son would be awake at the ass crack of dawn.

“Hope so,” Tony sighed, cuddling up to his husband. He always felt so right with Steve’s arms around him. “You better not keep yourself awake just in case Peter’s not falling back asleep,” Steve warned, burying his nose in Tony’s hair.

“I won’t,” Tony sighed, aware of the fact that Steve had become the master of soothing him to sleep. The larger man hummed in acknowledgment as he ran his fingers slowly up and down Tony’s back, satisfied when he felt his breathing slow down. Steve soon followed him in his light slumber.

Not that it lasted very long. Just as instructed, FRIDAY notified them again, thirty minutes later, that Peter was still awake.

“I’ll just shoot him a text. FRI would’ve told us if anything was wrong,” Tony mumbled, rubbing his eyes, to which Steve agreed.

──────── 

dad: You alright? Fri says you’ve been awake for a while

Petey: yeah im fine

Petey: just cant sleep

dad: You sure? I can bring you some food if you’re hungry?

Petey: nahh i dont really have an appetite right now

dad: Alright, bud. Let us know if you need anything, okay?

Petey: okay i love u guys

dad: We love you too

Petey: oh and dad?

dad: Yeah?

Petey: go to sleep

dad: Ditto, kid. If you can

──────── 

“What’re you laughing at?” Steve smiled, to which Tony turned his phone, which felt strangely light in his hands, for Steve to see better. Reading over the texts quickly, Steve chuckled. “I agree with him, hun.” He grabbed Tony’s phone, putting it back on the bedside table before pulling him close again.

“It’s a miracle how well you’ve been sleeping these past few weeks,” Steve mumbled, lips brushing over Tony’s temple. They both knew too well that his insomnia thrived whenever he was stressed.

“Guess there’s no room for it.”

He sounded so drained, it made Steve’s breath hitch ever so slightly. “Is it crowded in there?”

“Yeah. Empty too.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can.” Tony’s voice was distant with a hint of fear. Steve furrowed his brows, moving so he could see his husband’s face. More specifically his eyes. They were distant too. He’d only seen that look in his eyes and heard him talk like that once before. That was very early in their relationship, when the nightmares and the panic attacks - which he hid from Steve - about flying through a wormhole became too much and his brain floated away. Everything existed through a lense.

“Tony. Tony, look at me,” he demanded gently when he didn’t meet his eyes like he usually did.

“I’m- I’m going, Stevie,” Tony whispered, the words not even feeling like they came from his own mouth. His fingers curled, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t remember having told them to do that.

“You’ll push through it. You did it last time.”

“Mhm.”

“Go to sleep. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’m right here, and you’re right here. I’ve got you.”

“I love you.” The words spoke themselves, leaving Tony with a confused look on his face.

“I love you too. You’ll push through.” Steve sent him a look of concern. Last time it had taken three days. Tony had no memory of it, except for how overwhelming snapping out of it had been. How loud, bright, clear and solid everything was.

──────── 

“Peter? Why are you awake? It’s only nine,” MJ whispered as not to disturb Ned when she had opened her eyes, looking over to the bed next to hers. She knew Peter liked to sleep in late when he could. Peter shrugged. “Woke up, and just couldn’t sleep,” he explained.

She studied him with a suspicious look, but deciding to let him off the hook, she didn’t say anything. “Wanna put on a movie?” Peter suggested, knowing Ned was a heavy sleeper. “Sure,” she yawned, relaxing back against her pillow.

“FRI? Just put on… I don’t know, Mulan, I guess?” Peter spoke, at a low volume, and turned over to see if MJ agreed with his choice. She sent him a thumbs up. FRIDAY turned on the TV, and made sure it wasn’t too loud, as she had detected how quietly Peter spoke to her.

By the time Mulan had flawlessly wiped all her makeup off, MJ had fallen back asleep. With a sigh, Peter decided to get up. Steve was a morning person, maybe he was up? Peter shuffled to the living room, but found no other people awake, so he just plopped down on the couch, telling FRIDAY to keep playing Mulan, but on the screen in front of him instead of the one in the bedroom.

Steve joined him not much later, pulling his son to him so his head was resting on his chest, and he could run his fingers through his hair. Tony was still sleeping, and Steve hated that he dreaded him waking up. He didn’t want to see his husband struggling to even just function, and he was desperately hoping that dissociation would let him go as soon as possible.

“Where’s MJ and Ned?” Steve inquired softly.

“Still asleep. Didn’t wanna wake them yet.”

“And you couldn’t sleep?”

“Guess I’m rested,” the boy shrugged.

“You sure? ‘Cause when you came to say good night, it was almost one am, and you woke up before five.” Steve was concerned.

“I know.” Peter didn’t want to talk about it, cuddling closer to his Pops instead.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Steve smiled, and kissed the top of the boy’s head.

“Captain, Sir just woke up,” FRIDAY informed them. It made Peter scrunch his face in confusion and look up at his Pops.

“Why’s she telling you that?”

Steve lied on the spot. “So I can haul him out of bed and make breakfast for all of us. Why don’t you go wake up Ned and MJ, and FRIDAY will let you know when food’s ready,” he grinned, ruffling the boy’s hair carefully.

The man kept the smile on his face until he heard the door to the guest room close, and then dropped his cheery facade. He’d asked the AI to let him know when Tony woke up because he remembered how stuck he was last time when he woke up alone.

It only hurt a little when he was met with Tony lying flat on his back, staring at what looked to be the ceiling. However, upon getting closer, it was clear that he wasn’t really looking at anything.

“Hey, Steve. I love you,” Tony mumbled, his lips moving by their own accord. His head fell to one side, eyes meeting Steve’s. They were filled with nothing; seemingly a void of the man they belonged to. In an attempt to make him feel real, Steve cupped one of Tony’s cheeks - the one that wasn’t smushed down in his pillow, that is.

“Hey, Tony. I love you too.”

Present him Tony, mid-anxiety attack, and he’d know exactly how to make it better. But, this - Tony dissociated, distant, barely present in his own body - this was foreign. Having only seen it once before, it was all trial and error. It was to Tony, too. It was only the third time it had happened to him. The first time was when he’d escaped the Ten Rings and was wandering aimlessly through the desert. Rhodey had managed to snap him out of it when he put his hand on his shoulder. Not that he knew that back then. In fact, he still didn’t know. Steve didn’t know about that either.

In other words, he had no idea how to get himself out of a dissociative episode. First, it had been Rhodey, and then there was Steve.

“How’s Peter?” Tony asked on autopilot, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to try and make everything a little clearer. Steve sported a painful smile.

“He’s okay. It’s almost time for breakfast. You need to get up.” He’d learned not to give him a choice. Last time, it seemed to only make it worse. He couldn’t find his own mind, so Steve guided him instead.

With an affirmative hum, Tony pushed himself up, feeling light. Steve made it better, so he reached for his hand, closing his eyes when he felt him taking hold of his. “You’re right here,” Steve promised.

“I know.”

“I know you know. But look at me, honey.” Steve cupped his face to get as much attention as Tony could muster. “You’re here,” he briefly removed one hand from face to guide one of Tony’s hands to his chest. “You feel that? That’s your heartbeat. And you breathing.”

“I know. I love you”

“I love you too.”

Tony knew these things. That’s why they were so hard to grasp onto. He knew his heart was beating and that he was breathing. Those were constants. Just like Steve. He couldn’t seem to hold onto him either. He was always there. But he did his best. Even though it felt like he was watching through a window, he tried to cling to his husband’s voice. His promises and reassurances and his voice. It was all so safe. But he still couldn’t seem to get back into his own brain.

Getting up, Steve quickly picked out something comfortable for Tony to wear, which he changed into fairly quickly. “C’mon,” Steve encouraged, grabbing his husband’s right hand. Gently, he pulled him along, but stopped in his tracks when Tony winced and let out a swear. He turned around to see what had happened.

“Went to itch my eye, forgot about the cast,” Tony mumbled, and started walking again. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, Tony.” Steve was curious if that was an attempt to snap out of it, but didn’t ask. Tony had told him that he loved him three times in the last ten minutes, his brows furrowing a little each time.

“What’s for breakfast?” Tony asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. He was trying so hard to pull himself together for Peter’s sake. Didn’t want to let his little boy know anything was wrong.

“Pancakes. I thought I’d ask if Rhodey wanted some as well.”

“Good.”

While having Rhodey over was always a delight, this time it was to see if he could help Tony. Steve told FRIDAY to invite Rhodey over for breakfast, and a few silent seconds later, the AI informed him that he’d be there in ten minutes time.

Even though it was through a filter, the sound of Peter’s laugh never failed to make smile. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he grinned when he saw his son. “Mornin’, Dad,” Peter beamed back, his two friends following right behind him, mumbling out good mornings of their own. The three teens sat down at the kitchen island, Peter next to Tony, and the other two facing them.

MJ got back up again. “I can set the table,” she offered casually.

“No, it’s okay,” Steve assured her.

“You’ve literally set the plates ready on the counter, I think I can manage,” she decided, picking them up, and placing them on the kitchen island. “Where’s the cutlery? And drinking glasses?” she asked, making it clear that Steve was going to let her set the table.

So Steve reached over to open one of the cabinet doors to show her the glasses, and then pointed to the drawers right next to the girl. “And cutlery’s right there. Thank you, MJ.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it,” MJ brushed it away, and finished the task in no time, soon back to sitting next to Ned.

Tony hung onto the three kids’ rambling, finding it comforting. He did his best to act normal, mostly just smiling at their antics. Ever the observant one, MJ could tell something was off, her eyes lingering suspiciously one the man’s distant eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Peter hadn’t noticed, and neither had Ned.

The front door opened, and soon after, Rhodey walked into the kitchen, big smile on his face when he saw all of them. “Long time, no see,” he exclaimed, standing behind Ned and MJ, one hand on each teen’s shoulder. He chatted to them about what they’d been doing since he last saw them. Ned did most of the storytelling, MJ shooting in a sarcastic comment here and there, or correcting Ned whenever he got too dramatic.

When about half of the pancakes were done, Steve put a plate with them on in the middle of the kitchen island, telling them to help themselves. Peter even grabbed one, taking a small bite, looking pleased when he’d swallowed it.

“Did you like it?” Steve asked, doing his best to hide how delighted and surprised he was by occupying himself with getting a place set for Rhodey as well. Stuffing another bite into his mouth, Peter nodded with a smile. The texture was soft enough, and the flavor wasn’t overwhelming. Steve was relieved to have discovered another food his son would eat. Passing his husband, Steve whispered discreetly in his ear to remind him to eat. Tony blinked once and picked up his utensils, eating away at the two pancakes on his plate.

──────── 

The day flew by, the kids spending it inside - eating snacks, watching movies, playing video games, and the occasional board game. You might think MJ would be good at chess, but no. Ned was even worse, and just watched as his two best friends played round after round - Peter was having a lot of fun. He’d won four times in a row, but MJ didn’t seem to mind.

“Checkmate,” Peter smirked, again, MJ rolling her eyes playfully. “Wanna go back to the PlayStation?” he asked, which had the girl’s eyes widen.

“Yes, please!” she agreed immediately. Peter furrowed his brows in confusion at how relieved she sounded. MJ noticed, and explained. “Losing to you was starting to get boring.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Peter fretted, feeling really guilty.

“You were having fun,” MJ shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She made it clear that that conversation was over when she made quick work of putting the chess board away. Then she handed each boy a controller after having grabbed one for herself.

Meanwhile, after hours of trying to act as normal as possible, Steve had brought Tony outside in an attempt to help him. Rhodey was with them too. Steve had explained the situation when they’d finished breakfast. “Do you feel the wind?” Rhodey asked, flinching when a particularly cold gust of wind hit them. Tony didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah,” he whispered, even so. He could feel himself cooling down and the way it was blowing his hair in all directions. They walked around, Steve steering them from lawn, to gravel, to asphalt and back around again. When he was getting too cold for comfort, he figured Tony and Rhodey would be as well, so he cocked his head towards the building - a silent question to Rhodey who nodded in response.

“Feels nice,” Tony commented when he felt the warm air inside.

“It does,” Steve agreed, proud smile on his lips.

Realizing it was almost eight already, Steve set course for the kitchen. Rhodey gently pushed Tony in the same direction, and they followed the larger man.

Lasagna was on tonight’s menu. Steve had Tony smell every ingredient to stimulate his senses as much as possible. Whenever Tony slipped a bit too far away, Steve grabbed his right hand firmly, cupping his right cheek with the other to reel him in. It made Tony smile each time, and even brighter when he kissed his forehead. If Steve didn’t notice, Rhodey would sling an arm around his best friend and squeeze his bicep, speaking softly to him.

With only a few minutes left until the lasagna was done, Steve cooked some noodles for Peter before getting FRIDAY to tell the kids to come to the kitchen for dinner.

Peter greeted them with a yawn and a wave. “Tired, Pete?” Tony asked, putting a hand on his shoulder when he sat down next to him; the same place they’d sat at breakfast. “Just a little,” the boy admitted, leaning into his father, who wrapped an arm around him. Steve was proud. And it went up for him that Peter was what helped him the most in situations like these, even if the boy had no clue that he was doing anything at all.

This time, Steve had set the table before telling the kids to come to the kitchen, and received a smirk from MJ. He chuckled at her, patting her shoulder when he walked past her to get the oven mitts.

A nervous look on his face, Peter didn’t seem up to eating the lasagna. Before the boy could say anything, Steve put the bowl of noodles in front of him. “Thanks,” he simpered.

Ned hadn’t even swallowed his first bite when he complimented the dish. “I say this every time, but this is even better than my mom’s.”

“Thank you, Ned,” Steve laughed heartily.

“You’re still not allowed to tell her, though,” Ned warned with a smile playing on his lips, making Steve raise his hands in surrender.

“I would never,” the man swore, making the sign of the cross. Peter giggled at their antics, and was, as always, genuinely happy that his friends got along so well with his family.

──────── 

Come two am, and Peter was still wide awake. Ned and MJ were too, refusing to go to sleep before their best friend.

“Just go to sleep, I’m fine,” Peter argued, repeating himself for the fifth time that night.

“So are we. Let’s put on another movie. FRIDAY, uh… The Philosopher’s Stone,” MJ decided, the movie soon playing on the TV in front of their beds.

“Seriously, guys, I appreciate, but I don’t wanna keep you up and ruin your sleeping, you’ve got school an-”

“Shh, I’m trying to watch,” MJ interrupted him, and he let out a long sigh. He felt really bad for them.

Ned knew his best friend like the back if his hand, and decided to try one of the things that always helped him fall asleep - playing with his hair. “Put your head on my lap,” he quietly told Peter, who happily did as he was told.

“Yer a wizard, Harry,” Peter mumbled, closing his eyes for a second when Ned started massaging his scalp, and running his fingers through his curls.

Ten minutes of that, and he should’ve been asleep, but he was still wide awake, getting a little annoyed that he couldn’t even manage to fall asleep, but had a nice time watching Harry Potter.

He was brought out of his calm state when Ned let out a whimper. “MJ,” he quavered, and it caught her attention immediately, having never once heard Ned speak like that. She looked at them for a good five seconds before hurrying over to their bed.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, sitting up, the way they were acting making him really anxious. None of his two friends knew what to say, but then he spotted Ned’s hand, and something dark in the middle of it. Peter touched it, and realized that it was a clump of hair. His hair.

[sanjuno]

How about Star Wars for the got meta game

2/7 GoT Crossover Fix-Its: Bringing Balance Between Fire and Ice

Willas Tyrell was always an odd boy, more interested in his books than jousting. Spending more time on his animals and his garden than on learning his lordly duties. You would think that it would make him weak, but Willas never skipped his arms practice or his lessons. He simply surpassed his teacher’s ability to instruct him so quickly there was little point in him lingering on the subjects. Mace Tyrell tried to be a good father, but it was obvious he had no idea how to connect with his son. Oleanna had an easier time of it, even if she constantly despaired of her grandson’s distinct lack of political ambition.

(Feemor had known his time would run out one day. He had been lucky, from a certain point of view. Feemor had never participated in the battles, had been largely unknown to the Clones. Feemor, and many others like him, had instead devoted their energies into helping the refugees and bombed out planets recover after the battlefront moved on. So it was a surprise to wake up again after being shot by Stormtroopers. Especially since he was now an infant on a primitive world. Still Human, and the Force sang strongly here. Feemor did not think that this is quite what the Masters meant when they told him that there was “no death”.)

Garlan Tyrell was his older brother come again in a slightly shorter body. Garlan had a more martial bent than Willas, was better skilled with his sword and with battle tactics. He still doted on his horse, and expressed verbal distain for the Game of Thrones even while making some of the most masterful moves Oleanna had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Garlan was constantly out and about in Highgarden, speaking with the garrison and the small folk. Garlan reached his majority with a great many interesting friends in a great many interesting places.

(Obi-wan could only feel relief when Vader struck him down. The children were safe now, and Vader would not be able to use Obi-wan against them. Vader had killed any chance of convincing the twins to join him by striking Obi-wan down. Leia would destroy him for Alderann. Luke would see justice done for his Aunt and Uncle and Master, just as Obi-wan had once brought justice to the Sith who kill his loved ones. Oh, Anakin, his life was all Obi-wan could offer in return for all the pain his dear one had suffered. Obi-wan had expected to wake up as a Force Ghost, as he had been training for with Qui-gon. A flicker, a flash, the sight of Anakin’s funeral pyre before his Padawan became one with the Force. Obi-wan then woke up in the body of an infant. The blast of shock disturbing the Force around him and drawing his older brother into the nursery. Feemor had laughed at Obi-wan before explaining what he could about their new situation. Really, this was most undignified.)

Margary Tyrell was her grandmother’s child in every possible way. From the way she managed the men in her life to the deft way she navigated the politics of Court and the Realm. The only odd stroke in the picture of a perfect Highgarden Lady was her insistence in learning how to use bow and dagger. Needlework had not saved Elia Martell, the girl told her grandmother, so she needed to be able to kill from a distance and from up close. Oleanna was simply glad the girl didn’t want to learn the sword and lance too. Margary retorted that the Tyrell House had supported the Targeryns, and so she needed to be able to kill anyone sent after her. Oleanna agreed that this was sensible and discretely hired an arms tutor for her granddaughter. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know that Margary was capable of defending herself. Keeping the skill secret might be the edge she would need to survive.

(Padme died with longing for her husband in her heart, wishing for the return of the sweet, protective boy she had met before war and Sith manipulations ruined him. Poor Obi-wan, this must be breaking his heart. Padme breathed again in the body of an infant, born in a world where women were bought and sold like artwork. It was appalling, but perhaps no worse than was her due after the way she had ignored the plight of the clones. An army of slaves, their lives bought so that free men did not have to risk their lives… was it any wonder they had turned on the Jedi? On the Republic? She was lucky to have Feemor and Obi-wan with her. Her brothers promised to keep her safe, to ensure that she got the betrothal she wanted and not the one their affable fool of a father would try and make. Mace was easy to misdirect even without Mind Tricks at their disposal.)

As if to make up for his elder sibling’s easy natures, Loras Tyrell was a brat of the highest order. Just as clever and skilled as his elder brothers, but loud about it when they were humble. Oleanna had no regrets about sending him to squire with Renly Baratheon as part of their reparations to the Crown. The ravens flew constantly between the siblings, and surprise visits to Storm’s End and later the Red Keep became commonplace. Oleanna was pleased with the loyalty her grandchildren showed one another and wondered perhaps if Mace had saved up all the intelligence he should have inherited from her in order to pass it on to her grandchildren.

(Xanatos woke up as an infant in an appallingly primitive world. At least he was born nobility, so it wasn’t as horrid as it could have been. His father still tried to manipulate him, but Mace was so clumsy about it that Xanatos couldn’t even take offence. The man was a fool, but he did at least love his children as much as his ambitions. That was a change. Oleanna was a different creature entirely. Obi-wan compared her favourably to Mother Talzin of the Nightsisters. Given his rather dramatic Fall into madness, Xanatos accepted the nearly-smothering affections of his siblings with all the grace he was capable of. They wanted to be sure of him, and if letting them kiss his head gave them that assurance, then Xanatos would allow them the privilege. Blood was blood, and it was important to have trustworthy allies in societies as war hungry as the Seven Kingdoms.)

The Tyrell siblings grew, making friends and allies with deft skill and grace. Always, somehow, in exactly the right place at exactly the right time for them to see things turn out for the best. The one thing that made them stand out was their obvious lack of faith in the Seven. Margary’s Septa despaired of the girl. She was lovely and knew all her courtesies, but just like her brothers she treated the Faith of the Seven like an amusing children’s tale. It was Willas who eventually admitted that they all felt more faith in the Old Gods than the New. Mace had trouble with this, Oleanna understood that Faith was a private thing and stated that as long as they kept up appearances they could worship however they liked.

(When the Court made plans to travel to Winterfell in the North, where the Old Gods were still properly cared for, Feemor jumped at the chance. The Old Gods and their worship echoed strongly of the oldest versions of the Jedi Code and the Force. His siblings all went North with him, determined to gather enough Weirwood saplings for a proper Godswood. Everything they had heard about Weirwood implied that the trees were Force conduits, if not Force Sensitive, and they had felt the changes in the Force around them these last several years. Something was going to happen, and soon, and the Jedi needed to be ready. The Jedi were needed in the North, now, and the Force was insistent about it.)

With the addition of the Tyrells to the party, the events that took place in Winterfell changed greatly. The Tyrells took one look at the Stark siblings and their Direwolves (noting the Force Bond between each child and their wolf) and immediately made friends. Constant questions were asked about the Old Gods, the Godswood, the Direwolves, the Heart trees, the legends passed down from the First Men. Old Nan was delighted to have a new audience for her stories. Willas respectfully asked Lord Stark for permission to take a few cuttings so that they could have proper Heart trees grown in Highgarden and whichever future keeps the other Tyrell siblings would hold. Ned agrees, and recommends going to the Isle of Faces if their cuttings fail on the way back South.

(Xanatos has been busy charming the oldest Stark girl, knowing that Sansa is the kind of innocent that is Joffrey’s favourite victim. He’s also aware of Joffrey’s parentage, which he’s informed his siblings of. Being who they are, teaching linage is more important than bloodlines for them, so they decided to wait and see how the kids turned out. Even if the inbreeding defects mean there isn’t much hope for them. So for now the Tyrell siblings are waiting for Robert to pass on, at which point they will declare for Stannis as King and Renly as his Heir. Xanatos sort of loves Renly and is sort of using him to keep House Tyrell in a position of strength. Feemor mostly just wants to take care of his Garden, while Obi-wan and Padme are determined to stabilize the Realm into something peaceful so they can start working on social improvements. At any rate, Xanatos is walking with Sansa when the Force screams a warning in his ear.)

Sansa is showing Ser Loras the grounds of Winterfell when the knight suddenly breaks into a run. She startled, and slow to follow, but she tries her best to keep up. So she arrives in time to see Ser Loras catch Bran in his arms. Her little brother’s momentum is so great the knight is thrown back, and they tumble several lengths along the flagstones before skidding to a halt. Sansa screams, the wolves are howling and she looks up to see Ser Jaime pull back from the window of the Broken Tower. Sansa’s heart turns to ice. It’s possible that the man was trying to help, but Sansa has heard her father’s warnings about the Lannisters. Even though she had dismissed them until now. But she knows Bran didn’t fall. Bran was thrown from the tower. By a Southern Knight and Sansa hates him. He tried to kill her brother. The wolf blood in Sansa wakes up, and she wants to tear out Ser Jaime’s throat with her teeth.

(Xanatos is pleased with the outcome of his little bout of heroics. The Queen and her brother’s liaison has been exposed, the parentage of her children thrown into doubt. It’s Padme who hammers in the last nail of their coffin, bringing up her research into the Houses and pointing out that there have never been Baratheon’s with blond hair. Not in over thousands of years of intermarriage. Robert is, of course, pissed beyond words. Jaime and Cersei are stripped of their titles and imprisoned. Ned manages to calm Robert down enough to keep him from making Tywin his enemy. Jaime and Joffrey are sent to the Wall, Cersei and Myrcella shipped to Casterly Rock. Tommen is sent to Old Town to train as a Maester.)

Willas and Garlan are a boon during the dramatic events following the revelation of the Queen’s cuckholding of the King. They council Robert not to remarry so quickly, as it’s obvious that he’s not in the right spirits for it. They urge him to name Stannis his Heir, and then name Renly as heir to Stannis. The Baratheon’s of Dragonstone and Storm’s End are raised to Princely Houses, and Sansa Stark is betrothed to Renly Baratheon, with Loras Tyrell as their sworn sword.

(Padme sits Sansa down and has a very frank discussion with her. Will Sansa be able to handle joining the already established relationship? Because neither her brother nor Renly are likely to give one another up, not for a wife chosen for political reasons and not love. Sansa is still young and romantic enough to prioritize a love story, and she’s already half-infatuated with the Knight of Flowers. So Sansa gets the kind of education young Ladies never get from their Septas about how to please her husband in the marriage bed.)

Renly is mostly okay with his betrothal, given that Sansa hasn’t even flowered yet so he’s still got a few years until the girl is old enough for bedding. Loras approves of her, and she’s already written to Renly assuring him that she knows about Loras, and that she would never intrude on their love. And did Renly know that the First Men had a marriage ceremony that handled this sort of situation? Would he like to hear more about it? Renly is charmed by the Northern girl’s frank discussion of how to handle their rather complicated relationship situation and decides that if he has to marry a girl, at least Sansa Stark won’t expect him to love her just because they get married. Renly actually thanks Robert for arranging the match after meeting Sansa, because even though Renly doesn’t lust after women Sansa Stark is the closest a woman can get to his type without being a man.

(Heeding the Will of the Force, the Jedi group starts to meddle a bit more overtly. Padme decides that she’s going to marry Robb Stark, so long as her brothers have no objections. There are none, so Padme takes things a step further by sharing the secret of her self-defense training with the Stark girls. The same arguments that convinced Oleanna work on Catelyn, so Sansa and Arya get a “dance teacher”. Arya of course takes it a step further and gets rapier training, but Padme manages to convince her that being a woman is not a bad thing. An agreement is struck between Arya and her parents that she’ll get her pick of the Northern Lords sons. Her choice, but it has to be from the pool of candidates agreed on by her parents. With Padme’s example to follow, Arya is content with this arrangement, and Catelyn is just relieved that Arya’s finally growing up.)

Given the loss of what they thought were three Baratheon Heirs, Robert decides to legitimize Edric Storm, the only bastard he has that was got on a noblewoman. Since the boy is both Florent and Baratheon, and because Stannis approves of the boys upbringing as a ward of Storm’s End, Edric is betrothed to Shireen to keep Dragonstone in Baratheon hands. Edric is excluded from the succession of the Iron Throne, and his children will be last in line, but it eases some of the insult Robert caused in the events of Stannis’ wedding. The Tyrell’s proceed to give everyone the gift of a Weirwood sapling, grown from the cuttings taken of the Heart tree in Winterfell. Everyone is very impressed by Willas’ ability to grow the trees South of the Neck.

(Feemor is determined to plant as many Weirwood trees as possible. Each sapling he plants in a Godswood strengthens the Living Force around him. Padme is pleased with her match to Robb, and with the attitudes of the North when it comes to giving women equal voice in regional politics. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than in most of the other Kingdoms. The Mormonts and the Reeds are by far her favourite Houses though. Obi-wan is happily running around making friends and influencing people. It’s very possible that he’s going to end up North of the Wall and seduce Val by being his loveable self, at which point the Wildlings will be brought South of the Wall and settled in the Gifts under the Lordship of the Blue Rose. Obi-wan gets along with them because they’re very much like Mandalorians. Xanatos is busy tending to his relationship and researching the First Man wedding ceremony meant to bind several people together in equal status and legitimacy. Good thing they’ve all already publicly converted to the Old Gods years ago. That makes things simpler on a social front.)

Garlan’s marriage to a Wildling Princess comes with the knowledge that the Others are real and are marching on the Wall. He negotiates passage for the Wildlings through the gates and settles them into both the Gift and the New Gift with promises of support for the Wall in the form of manpower and supplies. A new House Tyrell is founded in the North with a Blue Rose banner. Sansa Stark asks King Robert to legitimize her brother Jon as a wedding present. Jon Stark is serving as a squire in the Northern House Tyrell when he meets Ygrette, and she’s very determined to have him as her husband. Garlan laughs until he cries when Jon’s dragged to the Heart tree. Luckily Lord Stark and Arya were visiting at the time so they got to be there for the wedding. Ned gives Jon a keep and lands reasonably close to the Wall and the Gifts as a wedding present.

(The Force is pleased with the efforts the Jedi have taken to promote peace and harmony among the Seven Kingdoms. Tywin Lannister has all but withdrawn entirely from politics, leaving everything in the hands of Kevan and Tyrion. The Martells are a bit of an afterthought at this point, even with their scheming. Seeing Tywin Lannister to badly shamed to even show his face at Court is perhaps the best revenge they could ever have on him, even if it was not accomplished through their own efforts. The knowledge that no Lannister blood will be seated on the Iron Throne is even better. The punishment fit the crime perfectly.)

Daenerys Targaryen arrives in the Seven Kingdoms with her dragons and is quickly educated on the reality of the Rebellion. Her father was a monster, her brother was mad and obsessed with prophecy, and no one cares to see her on the throne. Her best bet, if she wants to avoid testing all her food for poison for the rest of her probably-short life is to assist the forces at the Wall with destroying the Others. When Daenerys starts to try and gather support for her claim to the Iron Throne, someone suggests that she marry Robert to cement things. Willas offers arguments in support for this, despite Daenerys’ very vocal protests, asking why she wants to win through bloodshed when a wedding will give her the result she wants without needing to kill countless people. It will be Targaryen blood on the Iron Throne once again, and everyone’s loyalties are satisfied.

(Feemor is aware of the fact that Daenerys is infertile and barren. It’s not an unexpected result from all the inbreeding and her getting pregnant so young. The Force readings Feemor gets off the Mother of Dragons are very clear on the fact that she can’t have any children, so Feemor works with Xanatos to arrange things for a peaceful resolution. The Baratheon inheritance is already sorted out, so Daenerys marrying Robert will keep the various Houses in the Seven Kingdoms from starting a Civil War.)

Since she can have no human children, Daenerys cannot inherit a ruling seat and she’s useless in a normal marriage alliance. It takes a lot of repetition from a lot of different sources, but Daenerys eventually comes to learn that despite having dragons at her disposal, she herself is still human. She will die one day and without an heir to inherit after her everything she built will fall to ruin as people contest for the Iron Throne. Marrying Robert is her best choice, because it both makes her Queen and the Baratheon’s were founded by a Targeryen offshoot, as well as Robert having a Targaryen grandmother. Ironically, it’s Ned Stark who makes the biggest impact on Daenerys. His father, elder brother, and only sister were killed as a direct result of Targaryen madness, and Daenerys, with her stubborn, misguided, singleminded goal of ruling the Iron Throne herself, is giving the impression that she’s just as mad as the rest of her House. The Targaryen name will die with her, so why does she think that she has any right to what they lost through their own dishonourable actions?

(The Force Provides, and the Jedi are pleased with how neatly things are coming together. Without the Council to stifle their actions they’ve managed to keep the Realm stable and strong enough to beat back the White Walkers. Obi-wan captures a Wright and sticks it in an ice block to take South to prove that the Others have returned. With Daenerys married to Robert and Sansa’s children set to inherit the Iron Throne, Ned tells Jon about his true parentage. Jon tells the rest of the Starks, and they all agree to keep it secret. They arrange for Jon’s eldest daughter to wed Sansa’s eldest son to tie everything together, just in case the truth ever comes out. The Jedi are working with the Stark’s warging powers. The Tyrells are honest about the fact that their powers are better suited to gardening than animal handling. Jon manages to warg with Daenerys’ dragons, and the Force gives the impression that Sansa’s children will have that power as well. This will thankfully keep the dragons under control once Daenerys passes on.)

Then there’s a big dramatic fight against ice zombies and dragons raining fire from the sky and the Jedi teachings spreading under the guise of worshipping the Old Gods. I have no idea who Willas-Feemor ends up marrying but I’m entertaining the thought of him romancing Asha Greyjoy just because Yoda’s lineage has a thing for grey morality.

[monaisme]

Day 7: poisoning

Day 7: poisoning

Mr. Warren was sick, which wouldn’t have been a big deal except for the fact that his replacement was ‘Libby.’

Libby was 28 years old, blond, blue eyed, and had traveled all over South America over the last two years even though she was “only supposed to be there for six weeks, but then Raoul happened, and how could anyone resist because—c’mon, it was Raoul! And then there was all that stuff with the passports, but Daddy had fixed all of that up so whatever...”

From the sound of it, ‘Daddy’ had decided that Libby needed a taste of the real world, cut off her access to the credit cards, and told her she needed to get a job.

Fun fact: Libby still had the tan.

Oh, and she was a virgo.

Needless to say, she was an interesting sort of person—and not in a good way.

To be fair, Peter was already feeling off kilter. Ned was out sick with the flu which meant that Peter would be taking notes during their biology lab instead of performing the dissection Mr. Warren had planned. Of course, this also meant Flash had been especially heinous during their lunch period—going so far as to inspire MJ to start a whole new crisis sketchpad just for Peter. And then there was Libby. Every time Libby walked by his lab table as she relayed her ‘background,’ he could have sworn that his spider-senses were going off. They screamed danger, but all Peter could see was, well, her.

Maybe he was just irritated that a sub meant delaying their lab time

Libby made her way back up to the front of the class and called everyone to attention. “Okay, children!”

They all looked at each other in disbelief. Really?

“Alright, if I have everyone’s attention, we can discuss how today is going to work.” She smiled big and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have spoken with Ray, and know you were all looking forward to today’s lab. After some discussion, Ray and I both feel confident that I can do this lab with you.” She giggled and continued. “Believe it or not, I actually did some pre-med!”

They all looked at each other again. Yeah. They’d go with ‘not,’ thank you very much.

She clapped her hands to bring their focus back to her. “Now, I have trays prepared and ready for one member of each pair to come and collect. Before you decide who, please take this time to clear off your tables. Put all supplies in your backpacks or under chairs so you don’t contaminate any of your personal items.”

One last time, they all shared a look, but this time it was one of shared optimism. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad?

From behind the front table, she produced nine separate trays for the supposed nine pairs—but with Ned home sick...

“Alright, someone from the front two tables come up and grab your items, please, and then when they’re back, the next two and so on until everyone has a tray.” She clapped her hands again, “Chop, chop, everyone! Time’s a’wasting!”

Table by table, the teens went and gathered their items with Peter sitting back and wondering which group he’d be dumped on.

When all of the tables were done, Libby stood before them all with one final tray. “Oh, it seems that...” her eyes roaming the classroom for the reason for the... “A-ha! There you are!” She pointed to Peter, then frowned. “Oh, dear. You don’t have a lab partner today. What should we do about that?”

Betty raised her hand, “Peter can join our group, if he’d like!”

Libby smiled at her, “That’s so kind of you, but I’ve prepared the tray and maybe we can have Peter be my helper today instead?” She looked to Peter, who could nothing more than nod in agreement.

What did he have to lose?

He approached the front table with caution. His spider-sense was blaring, but there was no way this woman was any sort of villain! A painful stereotype, yes, but he couldn’t imagine her as anything more nefarious than that.

She excused herself as he stepped closer, “BRB, ‘kay?” and she bounced to the supply cupboard at the side of the room, “I’m allergic to latex so let me grab some nitrile gloves and we’ll get going!” she explained.

“No problem,” Peter mumbled and put on his own standard latex gloves that had been given with their supplies.

The lab itself had gone well. Libby, it turned out was just as squeamish about dissection as Ned would have been and Peter got to do all the cool stuff—and, by the way, was the reason why she’d dropped out of pre-med. Even the smell of formaldehyde that permeated the room was a challenge for her, but she’d muddled through for the sake of cool substitute teacher points.

Libby had also studied botany when she’d been travelling through South America and had developed a love and appreciation for plants and their healing potential. And, well, Raoul was still Raoul.

It could have been an awesome class, save for the whole spidey thing. He tried like crazy to shake it off, but by about three-quarters of the way through class, he felt like he was battling an anxiety attack. He was working extra hard to draw in a breath, and was wholly convinced that an invisible elephant was sitting on his chest.

He just needed to calm down and he’d be fine.

Libby chose that moment to point out something on the diagram they’d been working off of, and Peter tried to blink away a couple of black spots.

Fresh air was sounding like a really great idea. He turned his head to check the clock on the wall and swayed. He caught it, and braced himself on the counter.

What the heck?

Libby noticed the clock, too, missing Peter’s near swoon, and gasped. “Oh, my! Where has the time gone?!”  She called everyone to attention, “Okay, everyone! Ray has assured me that you are all aware of disposal and clean up protocols. Let’s wrap up our note taking and get this all cleaned up so we don’t horrify the poor custodial staff after class is over!”

She observed the class for a moment to ensure compliance and then turned back to Peter. “Are you okay to manage this on your own?” She asked and gestured to the tray. “I’d like to help but, well...” she made a barfy face to make her point.

Peter chuckled... well, maybe he choked a little instead, but it sounded like a laugh and that was all that mattered. “Sure,” he gasped out.

Libby smiled big, “Awesome! I’m gonna just take a second to leave some notes for Ray and everything will be good to go!” She took that moment to pull off her gloves, and the smell was—

“Wha—what’s that smell?” Peter mumbled.

Libby heard him. “Oh, it’s rose oil.” She held her hands out for him to smell. “It’s really great for people with pain management issues and it’s ‘shark week’ and all so...” She smiled at him, “Why? Do you like it?”

Peter didn’t get a chance to answer her as he struggled both for breath and consciousness—and then stopped struggling at all.

* * * * * *

Peter didn’t have much memory of the time after.

He didn’t remember hitting the floor.

He didn’t remember Flash’s taunts that Penis had passed out doing a dissection.

And he definitely didn’t remember Libby and the teacher from the classroom next door having to perform CPR while they waited for an ambulance when he’d stopped breathing.

He may have had a brief recollection of Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant Bucky Barnes hijacking said ambulance, but that’s only because Captain Rogers had said a cuss word.

Being diverted to the Avengers Tower and being treated by Dr. Cho, however, was a huge blank.

All of this was why Peter, when he finally woke up, was very, very confused.

The hiss of the oxygen pressing into his mask was the first thing he heard.

Why was the mask so loud?

He tried to lift a hand to pull it off, but someone took hold of it and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Sorry, kiddo, you gotta leave that alone.”

Peter whined in protest.

“I know, kid, but it’s helping. Trust me.”

A kiss pressed to the back of his hand again, “Hey, Spider-Man, are you back with us yet?” the voice whispered.

Peter knew that voice, “Ms-r S-k?” he rasped.

“And there you are.” Tony sounded pleased. “Can you open your eyes for me, buddy?” he pleaded, “Just for a second?”

Peter groaned this time. He lolled his head to the side and squinted up at his mentor. “Hmm?”

“Hey, bud.” Tony smiled. “How are you feeling?

Peter had to think about it for a minute. There seemed to be a disconnect that had nothing to do with pain killers. He just couldn’t figure it out. “Ches’ hurts?”

Tony frowned, “We figured, but you’re on the mend and then we can figure things out, okay?”

Figure—what? “Wha’ happened?” He needed to know, but his need for rest seemed to be taking precedent. He blinked slow. Tony saw.

He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair, “Why don’t you rest, and we’ll talk the next time you wake up.”

Peter didn’t like not knowing. Did that mean he wasn’t safe? He pulled his eyes open wide, hoping to convince his body that he was alert.

Tony chuckled. “You’re safe to go to sleep, Peter. I promise. We have a little time now, okay?”

“Safe?” Peter grunted out.

“Yeah, you’re safe, bud. Promise,” Tony repeated, and that was all Peter needed to drift off into slumber.

* * * * * *

The next time he woke up, Peter was definitely more coherent, still exhausted but definitely more aware. He’d been downgraded to a nasal cannula which was infinitely less noisy than the oxygen mask he’d been wearing earlier. He didn’t see Tony around either, so he started to pull himself up to sitting.

“Stop right there, Mister Parker!” A voice called out. Peter froze. Dr. Cho appeared from the inside of some strange contraption to his left. “I would highly recommend that you stay lying down for the time being. We’ve only just stabilized your oxygen levels and I do not want to see that fudged up because you’re feeling fidgety.” She looked down to the tablet in her hand and tapped something quickly before fully devoting her attention to him.    

He laid back down on the bed and looked around the room. He still couldn’t remember what had happened to land him here... but it must have been something serious, from the sound of it.

“I’m sure you have questions, Peter, but I’ve let Tony and Captain Rogers know that you’re awake and they’ll have some answers for you, I hope, but for now, I’m going to do a quick exam before they get here, okay?

Peter nodded and allowed for himself to be poked and prodded by Dr. Cho and two of her nurses—anything to get this done quickly.

The nicer of the two nurses, Peter thought her name might be Nicole, was removing the rubber tourniquet from his blood draw when the two men entered the room. Captain Rogers spoke up first. “Are we okay to be in here?” he asked, “Or do you need a few more minutes?”

Dr. Cho smiled at the consideration, “We’ve just finished up.” She answered. “You’re good to go, and please forward any relevant information when you have it.” She patted Peter on the leg. “Peter, make sure they go easy on you, okay?  I’ll be back in an hour to do another check.”

He nodded that he heard her and waved as she turned and walked away.

And then focused his attention on the two Avengers now seated at his bedside. Both of them wore looks of concern on their faces and, if Peter was being honest, it was a little unnerving. “Um, guys? What’s wrong?”

Captain Rogers sat down in the seat on Peter’s right, while Mr. Stark took his left, though he chose to stand and take Peter’s hand instead.

He looked back and forth between the two of them. “Um, no offense, but you’re... freaking me out...” Why was talking so difficult? Still, he pressed. “Is everything okay? Is it—“ Hold on? He sat up with a start. “It’s May, isn’t it?!... Did something happen?!”

An alarm blared from beside Peter’s bedside.

Mr. Stark squeezed his hand and stopped that train of thought pretty quick. “Your aunt is fine, Pete. Promise!” He assured him, but Peter was having some difficulty catching his breath. Mr. Stark pushed Peter back to the bed and rubbed a hand through his curls to calm him. “Relax, kid. You need to take a deep breath, for me buddy.” Tony pressed a button on the bed. “She’s asleep upstairs, Peter. You just keep missing her Spider-babysitting shift, is all. She is safe and fine. Take a deep breath for me, kiddo.” Mr. Stark was looking between the monitors and Peter. Was he worried? “You’ve got this, deep breath in for me.”

The alarm continued to sound and another nurse, Peter thought this one was Laura, but he couldn’t remember came rushing in and the black spots were back and he was trying to breath but then the nasal cannula was being removed and that really loud mask was back on his face and he felt a rush of warmth in his arm and he didn’t remember things being so fuzzy before, but maybe it would be better if he just closed his eyes and then it would all. go. away.

* * * * * *

The third time Peter woke up, he was wearing an oxygen mask, just not the really noisy one. He flashed on the last time he’d been up, and figured out all on his own that he needed to leave it alone.

May was asleep in the chair that Captain Rogers had been sitting in earlier and Tony was pacing along the window on the far wall, clutching a tablet and looking like he had something on his mind.

“Ms-r Stark?” Peter called out to him.

Mr. Stark turned to see Peter awake and rushed over to his bedside. “Kid! You can’t do that to me! Geez!” He smiled fondly down at the boy, who was still clueless as to why he was there.

“Tell me.”

Mr. Stark looked at the monitors, seemed satisfied with what he saw and began, “Well, Peter, it seems that you have been poisoned.”

Mr. Stark paused there, giving Peter a chance to process what he’d said.

“Poisoned?”

Mr. Stark ran his hand through his own hair, “Yup. It seems to be some sort of inhalant and it bound itself to your red blood cells and messed with your oxygen intake and all sorts of awful stuff that you’re probably not in the mood to hear.”

Peter blinked up at him. “Poison?”

Mr. Stark frowned down at him, “Yeah, buddy, that’s what I’m saying. Cap needs to have a chat with you so we can figure out where you were and who might have had a chance to get to you without anyone knowing. And then we’ve got to figure out how they figured out who you are ‘cuz this was Peter time and...”

Peter’s mind had been running a mile a minute—well, maybe a couple of feet a minute with how drained he still felt, but suddenly it all clicked. “Rose oil.”

It was Mr. Stark’s turn to blink at him. “Say that again?”

And so Peter did, “The bio sub was using,” he drew in a deep breath, not wanting to get excited again, “said it was for shark week... made me feel,” he gestured to his chest, “wrong.  Spidey sense said so.”

May stirred in the chair, “I did not just hear you say ‘shark week,’ Peter?” She looked serious, “Because I don’t care if you’re dying in that bed. I taught you better than that. Be respectful.”

Peter huffed behind the mask. “Her words... Not mine.” He threw his hands up in surrender and then looked at Mr. Stark once more, “So yeah... rose oil.”

Mr. Stark nodded his acknowledgement and then started tapping at the tablet still in his hand. “huh.” He looked down at May. “I’m going to go talk to Dr. Cho and get Cap to stand down before Midtown becomes a scene out of CSI.” And then his attention swung back to Peter. “And do not think that I missed the fact that your spidey sense was telling you something was wrong and you ignored it. Expect to revisit that when you’re on your feet again, kid.” And with that ominous warning, Mr. Stark left the room.

May stood up then and came to his bedside and looked at her watch. “I think Dr. Cho will be in soon for your next treatment,” she said.

“Treatment?”

She looked down at him with a sadness borne from the stress of the last...

The last...?

“May, how long?”

“How long is the treatment? I think she’s got you down to half an hour in the hyperbaric chamber—with your healing factor and all—“

Peter cut her off. “No. How long have I been... here.” He waved to the room.

“It’s been eight days, honey. You woke up yesterday... they didn’t know what had happened or how your body would take treatments and so everyone had to be cautious.”

“Cautious?”

It was her turn to run fingers through his hair, “Yes, because we all needed you to be okay. Okay?”

Yup. Peter was definitely feeling overwhelmed.

“Um, I think I need to sleep... is that okay?”

“Of course, honey,” May assured him. “We’ll wake you when it’s time to head in.”

He looked over at the contraption he’d seen before and suddenly understood the purpose behind it. “Hyperbaric... chamber?... Really?”

“Tony’s been looking out for you, sweetheart. Whatever it took to do it, he did.”

Peter moved his attention away from the machine to May, not sure what to say, but she saved him from trying to find something.

“Go to sleep, Peter. I’ll be here.”

And so he did.

* * * * * *

“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that I’m allergic to roses?”

Mr. Stark tapped something on his tablet, scanned the screen quickly, and then answered. “No. You are not allergic to roses. This is not an epi-pen situation. Roses will laugh at your epi-pen and then kill you.”

“What? No! It’s lavender and peppermint that I have to watch for! All the websites say so!” Peter argued, even though he was still recovering from being literally poisoned only two weeks earlier.

“Look, kid,” Mr. Stark shut him down, “Apparently there are old wives tales, and then there are REALLY old wives’ tales, and we sir, are looking at the latter.”

“But wouldn’t this have happened before now?”

May was sitting on the couch next to Peter. “I’ve never had roses in our apartment, kiddo. Ever. Too expensive.”

“Really?” Peter stared at her in disbelief.

“Really. Honestly, I think they’re kind of bougie so I’ve never been a fan.” She shrugged and looked over to Mr. Stark. “No offense, Tony.”

“None taken,” he replied. “I’m of the same school of thought. Howard always insisted that our house be filled with them—turned me off something fierce.” And then he smiled. “And Pepper loves tulips and daffodils so it’s a win-win for me.”

Peter thought on it for a second. “So my cool sub almost killed me.”

Mr. Stark scowled. He’d met Libby after everything had settled but before they’d discovered the culprit behind the chaos. What he’d hoped to be a quick, but sincere, “Thanks for saving my intern,” had turned into a conversation about how this had confirmed to her that she had a “calling” and that she’d be “devoting” her life to teaching the children...

Yeah, he’d made sure that Peter had heard everything about that meet up.

It was fine, though.

Peter knew he had a few more days before he’d get the go-ahead to go back to school, so he’d just sulk about how the whole ‘roses’ thing sort of sucked and then things would go back to normal—while avoiding florists for the rest of his life.

And besides, what were the odds that he’d ever meet Libby again?

 @febuwhump

[pinetree-in-hatchetfield]

I’m Nothing Like They Picture Me To Be - A Spideychelle Fic

A/N: Inspired by the song Colder Quicker by Real Friends. I highly recommend it. Also this is my first attempt at angst, and I’m so sorry. This is either going to suck or be sad. No matter which, I’m sorry. (I blame @parker-is-full-of-shit) Future Author Speaking, Spoilers, I failed. It’s fluff.

It seemed like a normal day. Why wouldn’t it? Wake up, tea, class, lunch with the losers, more class, and she’s out. By all accounts it should’ve been a normal day. But it wasn’t. 

Because on this day, for some reason, some big goon decided to pull Michelle Jones into some random alley on her way home. He really seemed like he was making an effort to be a stereotype. Dark jacket, dark beanie, striped shirt, everything a cartoon burglar wore. If that wasn’t enough he started off with the standard, “Gimmie all your money.” 

She rolled her eyes. This guy really needed to get out more. But first, MJ would have to deal with him. She knew she couldn’t just punch her way out, this guy was at least a head taller than her and all muscle. So she went for the standard weak points: Groin, eyes, neck, and gut. She was almost out of there before suddenly someone came up behind her. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in her side. Like what the fuck just happened to my entire body, pain. Then she couldn’t move much, she couldn’t even stand. She heard faint shuffling and then shouting as everything went black for her.

She woke up (from what she could gather a few hours later) in a hospital bed. Everything was groggy and there was a large pain in her head, the pain in her side was duller though. She looked around to see that the chairs in the room were filled by her parents, sister, and a few classmates. Namely Ned, Charles, Abe, Betty, Cindy, and the one person who moved their chair so it would be closer to the bed, (nerd.) Peter Parker. 

She groaned as she slowly sat up, which made Ned shout “She’s up!” Suddenly the room was staring expectantly at her.

“’Sup?” She asked weakly, which earned an equal amount of smiles, stressed laughs, and relived sighs. “So what happened?” she asked legitimately this time.

“You are attacked,” her father began “From what we could tell it seems like it was a team mugging.” She groaned out of annoyance. ‘Of course it was. Why the hell not?’ She thought. Her father gave a small, tight smile before continuing again, “Apparently Peter found you there and called the authorities.” He finished gesturing to Peter, who was on the opposite side of the bed. Peter gave her a wide, genuine, and relieved smile.

Of course. Of fucking course. Peter god damned Parker. Stupid Peter Parker. Too pure for his own good. Too helpful. Too wide-eyed. Too everything. That boy was too much. Trying to pretend like he didn’t go around the city in tights. His stupid noble actions, little acts of selflessness, making her fall for him. What a jerk. She tried to pretend that smile didn’t do anything as she looked to the nurse that was entering the room.

The nurse explained how there was something on the knife she was stabbed with. Something that he or anyone else in the building weren’t quite familiar with. But something they were breaking down to find solutions to. For now they simply advised rest.

Not too long after that people started wishing their best and filing out one by one. Even her family had gone home. All that remained were Peter Parker and Ned Leeds. Eventually she convinced Ned that he needed sleep and made him go home too. Peter wouldn’t budge though. Peter insisted on staying. She argued with him, but eventually she fell asleep herself. The next morning she found Peter sleeping in that same chair he sat in last night. 

Days came and went in spurts. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness, but from what she got during the short periods of being awake her family and classmates visited regularly. Most days they brought flowers, despite her insistence that it wasn’t needed. Peter never left though. Peter fucking Parker kept staying right by her side. Eventually nurses took pity on him and brought him jello so he wouldn’t die in that stupid chair, he never left it though. 

After days upon days of this MJ was sick of it. She was sick of this. She hated everything. She hated how her family pretended she didn’t exist half the time. She hated that she was starting to care about people at school who would just leave her anyway. She hated that they cared about her. She hated that Peter thought she didn’t know about his secret identity, like he was any good with secrets. She hated that she was bound to this stupid bed. She hated this stupid grey room. She hated the default cable constantly on the TV in the corner. But most of all she hated, hated, hated, that Peter fucking Parker, after weeks of talking to her less and less, was suddenly acting like she was the most important thing in the world. She was sick of it.

And one day, when she was all but back to normal, and Peter was staring at her, with that stupid little smile, during one of their lulls in conversation, she blew. Everything came out. She groaned in frustration threw her hand in the air, “What the hell is your problem, Parker?” she shouted. Peter looked confused and scared. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” he asked

“You and your stupid sudden care! You don’t talk to me for weeks on end, then suddenly you’re first on my crime scene and you don’t fucking leave my side. You never fucking leave. You fucking flip flop on not giving a shit and caring more than any human being should be able to. It fucking hurts, Peter! What’s your god damned issue? Why are you hellbent on hurting me?!” She shouted at him. He looked flabbergasted, bus she wasn’t done, “I’m not a fucking idiot, Parker! You’re not hiding shit, so just tell me the truth. I know, so why won’t you fucking tell me?!” 

Peter stared at her in silence, seemingly starting a million sentences, but deciding against each one. She huffed in annoyance, “Fine, go.” she stated as she faced away from him.

“No, MJ, please, I can-”

“You can what? Because unless you’re gonna explain it to me, I don’t want you here.” She could hear him sigh and practically thinking. 

“MJ..” He never finished the sentence, because after a pause, deep breath, and a gulp, he slowly stood. 

“Leave, Peter.” She all but whispered, and he did just that. ‘Good riddance. Asshole.’ she thought. But still it hurt, she didn’t want to, but she did miss him. She cried herself to sleep that night.

The next morning she found a small box of stupid Valentine’s chocolates. Not just any chocolates. This box had a Spider-Man design on the cover. Now the dork was teasing her with it. What an asshole. 

A few hours later there was a small knock on the door. “Who’s there?” she asked

“Someone who has something to admit.” Said Peter as he entered the room. MJ rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t say you could come in.” She said, mostly nonchalantly, slightly annoyed. 

“...Can I?”

She didn’t want to look at him right now. He was the ass that thought she was dumber than a third grader and toyed with her emotions she had spent years trying to destroy. But the small part of that she wished she could smother with a pillow, wanted him here. So with a light huff she gestured to the chair to her right. Peter tried not to appear giddy, and MJ pretended not to notice.

“So, you’re right. I do have something to tell you.” Peter said slowly. MJ gave him a ‘Duh’ look and held up the box of chocolates. “Oh good, you got those.” He smiled and she nodded. “Then you probably know what I’m going to tell you.” She nodded giving another ‘duh’ expression.

“I’ve known for months, loser.” 

Peter winced, “Really?” She nodded again. “I thought I was more graceful than that.” She shook her head. Peter sighed.

“But still,” He continued, now struggling to make eye contact. “it should be said properly.” He took a deep breath before saying, “Michelle Jones, I am so very, un-coolly, deeply in love with you. I know you don’t feel the same way or anything, which is totally fine, so I’m sorry if this changes things or anything like that.” MJ had no idea how to respond. She sat staring at him for a moment before slowly holding up the Spidey themed box again. 

“I meant the swinging side-gig.” She managed. Now it was Peter’s turn to be shocked. His eyes bulged out of his head. 

“Y-you meant. The, Spider, right. Of course you did. Of course you knew.” Peter was standing now, panicking and slowly trying to back out of the room “I-I’m just. I’m sorry. Can we pretend none of that happened?” MJ took a second to think about it.

“Only if you pretend I didn’t say I felt the same way.” Peter’s eyes bulged out again. A grin quickly spread across his face. He walked back to the bed.

“Y-you? And you just, I don’t. Really?” Peter asked and MJ gave a small smile.

“You’re gonna have to stop that, Parker.”

“Stop what?” He asked tilting his head slightly

“Just, that.” She said, gesturing to all of his face. “I can’t deal with that right now.” Peter laughed, “What did I just say?” His smile widened, almost mockingly now. That simply wouldn’t do. She grabbed both sides of his stupid face, pulling him down, and tried to kiss that ridiculous smile off of it. It didn’t work. 

Eventually they pulled away, not by much, but the kiss had stopped. “We should talk about this.” Peter stated. MJ shifted on the bed to make room for another person and patted the empty spot. Peter took the signal and sat next to her.

“Tomorrow?” She asked. Important things could be handled later, this was a good moment as is. Peter smiled and gave a small nod as he rested his head on her shoulder. 

“Tomorrow.” He agreed, she smiled. 

[sweetlysilent]

Carry Your Throne

Requested: Yes

Based off a prompt list linked here

#29 “You said my name in your sleep.” #26 “Help me I’m stuck.” and #86 “Why are you walking around naked?”

I also recommend listening to the song Carry Your Throne by: Jon Bellion

The song is also what influenced the title of this imagine.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: You had found out Peter’s secret, to say you were outraged he had kept it from you so long would be an understatement. He tried to tell you he did it out of protecting you, but you weren’t buying it. You spent the night that night, waking when you heard him say your name. He didn’t remember that though, so it was your own secret. Weeks passed and you and Peter got even closer, a little bit too close.

Warnings: Light swearing

Word Count: 2,483

A/N: Surprise! I combined all of those prompts into one imagine. I think overall it turned out pretty well. I think this imagine is super dorky honestly but I love it so much. Anyways I hope you enjoy! :)

You stormed back and forth in Peter's room, his eyes wide watching you try to process what you had just witnessed.

You didn't expect to encounter what you did that Friday night, you had decided to surprise Peter with a movie night, but ended up finding something else a bit more interesting.

May had let you in, saying that Peter would be right back, so you had decided to wait in his room.

Needless to say seeing Spider-Man crawl through his window on his ceiling did a few numbers on you.

He took his mask off, revealing Peter, who didn't once notice you sitting on his bed.

Until that is he turned around, meeting your bewildered expression on your face.

"Y/N! What they hell are you doing here!" He whisper shouted at you, making you blink rapidly.

"I uh..I came by to surprise you with movie night.. May let me in.." You trailed off, your eyes starting to squint at the brunette in front of you.

You slowly stood up, pointing at Peter.

"You're the Spider-Man from YouTube aren't you!" You started putting the pieces together, making Peter's eyes widen.

"No, what no." He tried to play it off, putting on a gray shirt and throwing his suit into the closet.

"Yes you are! Oh my god." You covered your face with your hands, not able to believe this was actually happening.

Peter just stared at you, not knowing what to say, this isn't how he planned on telling you.

"Wait, hold on.. How long have you been keeping this from me?" You crossed your arms, making him shift awkwardly.

"A few months.." He bit his lip nervously, as your eyes widened.

"I'm sorry, a FEW MONTHS?" You shouted at him, your arms failing everywhere.

"Y/N! Quiet! Aunt May could hear you!" He rushed over to you, holding your shoulders.

"Trust me, I wanted to tell you, but I only didn't because I wanted to protect you." He sighed, stepping away and running his fingers through his hair.

You let out a laugh, unable to hide your feelings at the moment.

"Like I'm supposed to believe that?" You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"Yes! You are! It's the truth Y/N, I deal with some bad people out there and if they figured out who you were they would hurt you, and I couldn't let that happen." He rushed out, making your heart melt a bit.

"Does anyone else know?" You questioned, sitting down on his bed.

Peter sighed, walking over and sitting down next to you.

"Just Ned, and well Mr. Stark obviously."  He let out a small laugh, making you smile slightly.

"Wait- Ned- He's known this whole time!" You smacked his shoulder, annoyance in your voice.

"Ow! And yes, it actually happened like this.. Man, I really need to work on being more stealthy." He muttered, rubbing his shoulder.

"I still can't believe this.." You groaned, looking down at the floor.

"I know it's a lot, but I will protect you okay?" He wrapped an arm around you, making you lean into his side.

You blinked a few times, before sitting back up.

"I know you will Peter." You smiled slightly, playing with your sleeves.

Peter gave a reassuring smile, but that immediately changed when you started smacking him.

"How could you do this to me! Now I'm always going to be worrying about you!" You smacked his chest, making him try to fight you back, but he only grabbed your wrists and pulled you close to him.

You were exhausted, no doubt, so when Peter made you go to sleep, you did.

You didn't know how long you were out, but you awoke to the sound of Peter talking in his sleep.

"Y/N.. I told you.." He mumbled, making your eyes widen.

He was dreaming about you?

You sat up, making sure you heard him correctly.

"Y/N, we've been over this.. You can't wear the suit.." He mumbled again, making you roll your eyes playfully.

"Dork." You muttered, laying back down next to him and drifting back off to sleep.

After that night you never did tell Peter he was sleep talking, you decided to have a secret of your own, something you could hold over him if ever need be.

However, ever since that day you found out his true identity you two got closer.

You started to hangout more and more over the weeks passing, Ned even mentioned to Peter how close you two were getting.

Peter brushed it off, not believing him, but he would be lying if Ned didn't get into his head a bit.

That week was a lot of mind games for Peter, every time he saw you Ned got into his head, making him see a different side of you.

A side that he secretly loved about you.

The way you'd call him a dork, or how you'd hit his shoulder if he'd made you mad, even when you laughed and your nose did a cute little crinkle that Peter loved.

Everything was making him feel different, and it scared him.

So, Peter decided he was going to test his true feelings out one night. 

Peter had invited you over to do a study session one night for your Biology exam.

Peter figured he had enough time to shower before you arrived, but that quickly changed when he felt someone in the need of saving.

He didn't have much time, so he slipped on his suit and was out the window in seconds.

Two crowns and a gold cup,

And they're coming for the throne, love.

Aunt may had let you in, you made your way to Peter's room, your textbook in your hand, all ready to go.

You knocked on the door, only to hear Peter swearing.

"Of all the times I put a lock on this damn window." He muttered, trying to squeeze through the tight space.

"Well look what the spider brought in." You smirked, making him roll his eyes at you.

"Y/N, help me I'm stuck, please." He begged, making you smile.

"Of course, but first I need to ask you something." You grinned, making him groan in annoyance.

"Can't you after you get me out of this window?" He muttered, making you laugh quietly.

"No way, because then you won't answer my question." You crossed your arms, making him motion for you to continue.

"The night that I stayed over here, I woke up during the middle of the night to find out you said my name in your sleep." You raised your eyebrow at him, his cheeks instantly becoming flushed.

"I think you misheard things Y/N." He tried to blow it off, but that only made you laugh more.

"No, I didn't actually because I had to hear it for myself, and sure enough, it was my name." You teased, making him groan in embarrassment.

"Okay, fine, maybe I did, maybe I didn't, can you let me out now?" He glared at you playfully, making you smile and release him from the window.

"You're mean you know that." He teased, poking your side.

You swatted his hands away, making him laugh.

"I know, but you love it." You smiled, walking around his room.

"I uh.. I was actually about to shower before you got here.. do you mind if I.." He motioned towards the bathroom, making your heart beat a bit faster.

"N-No, I mean, go ahead." You smiled, biting your lip slightly.

He smiled, going into the bathroom while shutting the door.

You didn't understand what was happening, you've never felt this way before.

They try to break inside the walls with,

These lies but I'm pulling up the draw bridge.

In that moment it was as if all your emotions flowed through you like water.

It was also that moment you decided to go get water, you needed to think.

You stood in the kitchen the entire time he was in the shower, your mind on warp speed.

You heard the shower shut off, which to you meant he was out of the shower.

You walked back to his room, opening the door, only to reveal a naked Peter.

You spit out water from shock and embarrassment.

"Y/N! Oh my god!" Peter exclaimed, grabbing clothes off his bed and quickly putting them on.

"Peter! What the hell! Why are you walking around naked?" You screeched, your cheeks red with embarrassment.

"I just got out of the shower! I didn't exactly expect you to walk in on me like that!" He rambled, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you saw all of him.

But at the same time you wouldn't be lying if you didn't admit that you checked him out.

Peter was attractive you weren't going to lie, and now that you saw him fully naked you couldn't get that image out of your head.

Peter quickly put on clothes, his cheeks still flushed red, he couldn't believe that just happened to him.

You blinked rapidly, unsure of what to do, you hadn't prepared yourself for that.

Hell, nobody could have prepared themselves for that.

You snapped out of your thoughts, hearing Peter speak up.

"Well, should we.. uh.. study?" Peter swallowed awkwardly, motioning towards the books on his bead.

"Yes. Yes that's a good idea." You nodded, giving a thumbs up, avoiding eye contact with him.

Peter slowly sat down on his bead, you nervously sitting beside him.

You two studied for what felt like hours, but turned out to actually be just a few minutes, this was driving Peter crazy, he had to do something, so he cleared his voice, grabbing your attention.

She looked back, said, baby this is your kingdom.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something, and I'm not sure how you're going to react, but after everything today I'm not really sure of anything anymore." He laughed slightly, looking at you.

You smiled, laughing with him, but motioned for him to continue.

"Over the past few weeks Ned brought something to my attention, and the more time we spent together the more I realized it was true." He rambled, making you smile at how dorky he was.

"Basically what I'm trying to say is Y/N I really like you." He blurted out, making your heart stop for a moment.

We rose this love from the dirt now.

You couldn't believe it, Peter actually liked you back.

"I like you too Peter, I actually figured that out in your kitchen, not going to lie." You laughed slightly embarrassed.

"Oh wow, before you walked in on me." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You playfully shoved him, muttering how much of a dork he was which only made him smile more.

After that night Peter and you were inseparable, Ned and Michelle said they 'called it' when you two officially got together.

This only made you all laugh, you were so lucky to have such uplifting friends and a wonderful boyfriend who was always there to protect you and love you.

It was moments like those that you realized you couldn't imagine a life without him in it.

He was there for your darkest times and you were there for his, you two treated each other like royalty, everyone could see you two were the perfect couple.

And hell if there wasn't one time you didn't carry your throne around school, being the couple everyone was jealous of, you loved it, just like you loved Peter and he loved you.

You got nothing but my crown on.

[pintokoat-old-blog]

ALL THE #'S YOU DIDN'T DO YET

HOLY HECK BRO!

alright alright alright I’m doing this.. under a cut lmao. I’m pasting others’ too, so they’re all in one spot. (this is actually ridiculous lmao ?? thanks)also, sidenote: pasting? pasteing? pasting looks so... strange.. what..

Questions from the Identity Ask post 

> 1. if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Read: The Raven Cycle series by Maggie StiefvaterWatch: The Iron Giant? lmao, i mean it was my childhood soListen To: my “U Kno” playlist on Spotify, probably

> 2. have you ever found a writer who thinks just like you? if so, who?

Alright so I love the style of Maggie Stiefvater’s The Raven Cycle, but a book/writer that I really vibed with a couple years ago was It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini

> 3. list your fandoms and one character from each that you identify with.

I mean, top three:The Raven Cycle - GanseyPercy Jackson and the Olympians - PercyBoku No Hero Academia - Deku

> 4. do you like your name?  is there another name you think would fit you better?

Yea, I’m cool with it!  

> 5. do you think of yourself as a human being or a human doing? do you identify yourself by the things you do?

I mean, I am both human and doing things. I try to play an active role in my social/personal/etc environment, tho. If that.. clarifies

> 6. are you religious/spiritual?

Not by like, a standard definition? I guess not

> 7. do you care about your ethnicity?

I care about my ethnicity in that I know I have a lot to learn, you know? - I’m white, and I care about that because it means I’ve got to keep myself and my privileges in mind and in perspective. 

> 8. what musical artists have you most felt connected to over your lifetime?

A bit back I really liked Watsky and The Killers. Also had a big ole My Chemical Romance, Bring Me the Horizon, and Sleeping with Sirens phase a couple years ago if you wanna count those haha. But right now its not really a set of artists, just whatever friends/Spotify shows me that I end up liking.> 9. are you an artist?

Yeah! Got an art blog and everything> 10. do you have a creed?

I used this in question no. 30 earlier but honestly? It sums up things pretty well:“I’m gonna sleep and I’m gonna wake up and I swear by everything in this deadly horrible universe i’m gonna make someone happy.”> 11. describe your ideal day.

Personal or social ideal day? I mean, probably just chilling n hanging with friends you know? Maybe going out to a park or movie or bookstore n screwing around with terrible book recommendations or “hey I dare you to down that entire smoothie in one go” “$5 and consider it Done.” Dumb stuff.A game of like, smash bros or mario cart. Or an intense monopoly showdown -  movie w popcorn or whatever other snacks, possible blanket fort shenanigans or just this giant mess of covers on the ground everyone’s sitting on. Lying down n sharing cool ideas about space. Or earth. Or that weird looking bug you saw that one time and it _might_ have been a leaf, but who really cares? It looked cool and makes for a neat story. You know?I dunno

> 12. dog person or cat person?

CAT i’m cool with dogs for shorter periods of time but i could live three-hundred years with a cat

> 13. inside or outdoors?

Summer? indoors. Winter? outdoors. Florida? Indoors 24/7 

> 14. are you a musician?

Man i Wish! I’ve tried guitar, drums and piano but to no avail. I’ve got a hand-me-down guitar tho, so I do wanna pick it back up at some point.

> 15. five most influential books over your lifetime.

1. It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini2. The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater3. Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Adam Douglas4. Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan5. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

> 16. if you’d grown up in a different environment, do you think you’d have turned out the same?

I would have a much, much lower heat tolerance. Like, jeez. 

> 17. would you say your tumblr is a fair representation of the “real you”?

To some extent, yea

> 18. what’s your patronus?

A lizard, probably

> 19. which Harry Potter house would you be in? or are you a muggle?

Slyherin

> 20. would you rather be in Middle Earth, Narnia, Hogwarts, or somewhere else?

Probably Camp Half-Blood! Or Henrietta

> 21. do you love easily?

Platonically? Definitely.

> 22. list the top five things you spend the most time doing, in order.

1. Sleeping2. Social Media3. Art4. Watching/Reading things5. Drinking espresso to stay up lmao

> 23. how often would you want to see your family every year?

Dunno, haven’t been away for a long time before

> 24. have you ever felt like you had a “mind-meld” with someone?

oh HECK yea. Totally drift compatible

> 25. could you live as a hermit?

At one point I probably could’ve? But heck nah probably not today.

> 26. how would you describe your gender/sexuality?

Gender: Male. Sexuality:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

> 27. do you feel like your outside appearance is a fair representation of the “real you”?

Yea! I’d say so

> 28. on a scale from 1 to 10, how hard is it for someone to get under your skin?

7? There are a few things I go from 0 to 60 (which i need to chill with, honestly.) but the majority of things don’t fall into that category. So normally, pretty hard. But when you do end up hitting a nerve, it’ll probably show

> 29. three songs that you connect with right now.

The Moss by Cosmo SheldrakePilot by Amber RunEarth by Sleeping At Last

> 30. pick one of your favorite quotes.

I used it in no. 10 so here’s another: 

“If you can’t be unafraid, Henry said, be afraid and happy.” ― Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven King