#but maybe also if the timeline hadnt been shoved so close together

[tempestaurora]

in light of the final chapter i wanna add that i think rei should've got the same attention as him. that i think one of the fatal flaws of this series is how storylines are ignored or dropped or just not given time because the central cast is 30+ characters strong.

rei should've had her monologues and flashbacks and chances to make changes in her life. we should've gotten to see what the hospital was like for her - i never understood if endeavor put her in there or if she did it herself. was she allowed to leave or forced to stay? there should've been time spent on her and her feelings, her life, her children. and at the end, she should've had the time and space on the page to say why the hell she was staying with endeavor, and pushing him around his wheelchair, or if she wanted to leave

endeavor is a deeply complex and interesting character imo, and shoto and touya are just as interesting. i think its a shame that we didn't get time spent on natsuo, fuyimi and rei, because their stories would've also been really interesting to read about.

that fatal flaw damages everything in my hero i think - every story could've done with more time to stretch its wings, but because there were just so many other characters, all of them are dropped too soon

bold of me to say something with nuance on the no nuance website but like. I fucking love endeavor. I think he's top 5 most interesting chapters in my hero. a man blinded by desire and ambition destroying his family in pursuit of perfection only to never reach the number one spot until number one vacates. its unearned, in some ways, he's been earning it for two decades in others. and then his youngest child, his perfect creation to take over from him when he's done being almost perfect himself, tells him that he's wrong. that he's a monster and he did bad things, and he tailspins. his eldest is alive with a grudge. his wife is getting better in the hospital he put her in. his daughter wants to make them a happy family, his third son wants to never see him again. he destroyed the thing that shouldve mattered most and didn't realise how important it was until it was already shattered.

and yet.

time and time again. he commits to atoning.

he's fucked everything beyond belief. he has permanently damaged multiple people he shouldve been caring for. and he sees it. and recognises it. and apologises. he tries to do better and be better and spend time with them and give them space and builds them a new home that he doesn't live in and tries like hell to stop and save his eldest all at once. and he just keeps going. even in the aftermath, in the epilogue, he recommits to atoning again. he will show up every single day to talk to his dying son, even after all the harm that son has caused. because of all the harm that son has caused. because he wouldn't be this way had endeavour loved him properly. because he does love him, and he may be unrecognisable in almost all ways, but that's still his son and he's been given a second chance with the boy he thought he'd lost forever.

and frankly, I want atonement for him. for that family. I want him to do better and I want them to be able to find peace and move on and forgive him and want to be around him again. I want them to be there when touya finally flatlines and I want them to find comfort in each other. I want endeavor to use this second chance to the best of his abilities and love and support his family in the way he failed time and time again to do. because he WANTS to do better, he WANTS to be better. and I think he's fully capable of it, especially when the top of the mountain is no longer begging for his attention. he can now see that the mountain could've been a worthy, honorable climb, but he didn't make it one.

and fuck, man, but I want him to be able to have a good life after this. he wants to atone, and he is the sort of man who follows through on the things he wants.

[angrylizardjacket]

when i said it i thought it was true [4] {Ben Hardy}

A/N: 2973 words. Listen, I massaged the timeline a little bit, just suspend your disbelief, perhaps it only takes 4 months to be in post production. Also yes I know X-Men didn’t actually film in Egypt, but I didn’t know that at the start of this fic and now I’m sticking with my mistakes because momma didn’t raise a quitter but she did raise a fool.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

“You’re not proposing to me in a sheer shirt.” The moment the makeup team leaves, you turn on Ben, amusement tugging at your lips as you cross your arms, cocking your hip.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, the picture of innocence as he fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. You raise a singular eyebrow. “I think you do like it.” He hummed, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. When you refuse to break eye contact, your silence is answer enough. “I think you like it a lot.” 

It’s been almost a four months since shooting officially wrapped, two since you’d filmed the last of the pick up shots they’d needed, and a full month since you and Ben seen each other in person; you’d been busy with a Netflix series, and Ben had been in talks about a new project, and you’d been messaging every day but seeing each other in person is... well there’s something different. Playful. Easy. Somehow neither of you seem worried about the looming proposal, and are just making up for lost time.

“Love, you’ve gotta take it up with the stylist, not me.” He shrugged, as if helpless, and turned, making his way to the door, knowing without even looking that you’ll be following behind him. He’s chipper, brimming with excitement and looking damn good, and once he gets to the elevator and pushes the button, he offers you his arm while he waits.

“Marry me.” He says it suddenly, watching the numbers of the elevator tick up to your floor. There’s no-one around, and the ring is still in his pocket.

“What?” With a frown, you step into the elevator, and press the button for the lobby, still tucked up against him.

“What if we just show up engaged?” He asks, hand in his pocket where he’s fiddling with the ring box. He’s not nervous, just contemplative.

“And deprive Swarovski of their moment?” You scoffed, and he tipped his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in exasperated amusement.

“I know you hate the ring, ‘too gaudy, too ostentatious by half’, isn’t that what you said?” He snickers after doing as half decent imitation of you. Giving him a shove, you duck your head to hide your embarrassed smile.

“It’s so ‘look at me! Look at me!’” You huff, and he can’t help but laugh at that. The sound of it, in person rather than over Skype, made you feel, for lack of a better phrase, like you were home. Not that there really was a better phrase, you just didn’t want to think about or admit how much you’d missed him.

“Sorry to say, dude, but there’s nothing more ‘look at me! Look at me!’ than a red carpet proposal.” And yeah, okay, maybe he had a point, but that was one night, you had to wear that ring until... they hadn’t told you the DVD release date, but you’re pretty sure it was some time in the New Year. When you bring this up, he just rolls his eyes. “You’re not the one getting down on one knee for a fake proposal; I’m gonna look like an idiot when this is all over.” 

“Well fine, if you’re so worried, I’ll propose.” Instead of dwelling on his words, you step away, holding your hand out expectantly. When he just stares at you, bewildered, you motion for him to hand the ring box over, and he finally cracks a grin, shaking his head.

“If you think I’m gonna be caught dead in that ring you’re wrong.” He spluttered, and you can’t help but laugh at that.

“Fine, I won’t take your first proposal away from you.” You hum with a smile, tucking yourself back against him. He goes very quiet. It takes you a few moments, but you look up at him, brow furrowed. He seems lost in his own thoughts. “It- Ben you’ve never been engaged before, I feel like I’d know if you had been.” Your words snap him out of his trance and he looks at you with wide, bright eyes, and an unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, no, I would have told you by now otherwise.” The silence that falls around you in not a comfortable one, and you’re glad when the elevator comes to a stop. “I got close once, though.” He admits, quietly. You don’t know how to respond to that; you hadn’t considered how much those words would hurt. You want to ask with who, but you already felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy at the thought of someone else stealing his heart enough for him to want to be with them forever. Unreasonable jealousy.

Filming for X-Men started a week ago and he’s only called you once; he’s on a film lot somewhere in Canada and his hair is curly and god he looks cute but the apartment feels so empty. He’s bright eyed and excited. He’s rambling about how busy he is, and he’s still wearing his makeup. The call lasts five minutes; the cast are going out for dinner. You tell him to have fun, but you’re heart’s not in it; he can sense it, and promises to call you tomorrow, before he hangs up.

He doesn’t call, part of you isn’t surprised.

“Marry me.” He asks again, voice low in your ear. The others in the car can’t hear him, but part of you is afraid they might. They don’t technically know it’s not a real relationship, though part of you thinks Gwilym has his doubts, not that he’d ever voice them.

“Not the time.” You shoot him a warning look, and he just slings an arm around you, leaning back in his seat. 

“You’ll regret not letting me be low-key about it.” He warns in return, giving you a blithe smile, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Low-key about what?” Lucy asks, and you elbow Ben in the ribs. He keeps smiling, though his mischievousness slides to something more fond as he actually looks at you.

“About anything.” You say by way of explanation, and though she, along with the rest of the car, still look confused, they don’t push it. There’s reporters everywhere when you get out of the car, and you and Ben are the last ones out.

“Last chance before this becomes a spectacle.” He murmurs when he steps out after you, straightening the back of your dress just a little, and he sounds amused, but there’s something genuine in his voice, and you take a moment to pause, turning back to him. His hands land on your hips, his touch light, and his expression is so familiar it hurts, and you realise he is a little nervous; it’s a very public setting for what should be a very private matter. With cameras going off all around you, you pull him in for a kiss, and he relaxes somewhat, kissing you back with his grip tightening on your hips.

“We’re being paid to be a spectacle.” You remind him, and he nods, smiling softly, and the two of you make your way down the red purple carpet together. You have to stop every few feet to do interviews, and soon enough you had pulled ahead of Ben; he had a much larger part in the film that you did, it wasn’t surprising the reporters wanted to monopolise him. It still felt strange, to turn and not have him there. Sometimes you’d do interviews with the other boys, sometimes he’ll be there, and as the main photo area loomed, you could finally feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Soon.

Perhaps too soon.

“What do you mean you’re going to Egypt?” You snapped, wishing your internet connection was better so he could see you glaring clearly.

“I told you about it ages ago.” Ben sighs, clearly tired. It’s there in his eyes, how drained he is, how hard he’s been working, and your expression softens.

“That’s exciting,” you force yourself to take a breath, it was the first time you two had spoken that fortnight, neither of you needed this to be hostile. The days had started feeling so long when you don’t hear from him; all you want is a damn hug and he’s on the other side of the world. “What if I come visit you?”

“In Egypt?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“In Egypt.” You confirm, a weak smile on your face, he doesn’t look thrilled by the process.

“Don’t bother.” He sighs, and the moment he sees your expression fall, he realises how his words had sounded, and he’s sitting up straight, panicked look on his face, spluttering his way through an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just busy and it’s going to be hot and-”

“No, I get it.” Your dejected sigh was followed by a yawn, and you hovered over the end call button. “When you’re less tired I think we should talk.” You tell him, and you see the confusion, fear, and resignation pass over his face in quick succession.

He agrees quietly, and neither of you really say goodbye before hanging up.

He was tapping on your shoulder as you were halfway through talking to E! News, and you’ve never been more anxious and excited in your life, and never so thankful to not be at the main photo area on a red carpet. His timing was perfect.

“So sorry, could I borrow Y/N for a minute?” He smiles charmingly at the reporter, and his expression softens when he sees the relief in your eyes. 

Before he even starts, it feels off, feels wrong, feels like a performance for the cameras more than anything else. 

“Don’t get teary on me, I know how hard your makeup artists worked.” He begins, and you make sure the cameras catch your surprised confusion. He’s takes one of your hands in his, linking your finger together, and the other holds your face. There’s a moment that passes between you two, his expression softens as he looks in your eyes and it’s as if he’s looking past everything that had happened, the whole setup you’d found yourself in; he was seeing you. 

“This is probably the biggest night of my life,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “for more than one reason; you’re my best friend, you’ve been there for some of the highest points in my life, and some of the lowest. I know you, Y/N, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I want to. I want you there by my side for the rest of it,” it sounds... so much more planned out than you’d expected, so much more heartfelt, and you’d be damned if there weren’t tears in your eyes. Despite the fact that this very private moment had a huge audience, which included a reporter muttering ‘holy shit, is this what I think it is?’, you could only see him. Damn if it didn’t feel real.

“I love you; I’ve loved your since-” his voice catches in his throat, and you see a hint of pain flash across his face before he’s smiling again, “since I first saw you in that damn wig they put you in,” it sounds like an addendum, like he doesn’t really mean it, or like it’s not the whole truth, but it’s enough to make you laugh, and when you look down to hide your embarrassed smile, your tears fall from your eyes, “since you agreed to all of this,” he gestures to himself with a self-deprecating grin, though his double meaning is not lost on you, though his expression turns serious after a moment, “since I first kissed you on set, though that feels like a long time ago.” Your breath catches in your throat, and he sounds like he hadn’t mean to say that last part, his voice too raw, his heart too honest for it to be a truly fake statement. You can do little more than whisper his name in reverence. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head, his thumb wiping the tear track from your cheek. 

“Marry me?” It’s a question this time, and when you look at him with confusion, disbelief written on your face at the way he chose to word it, he laughs softly, sinking to one knee and pulling out the ring box, and revealing the single most frivolous ring you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Will you marry me?” He corrects softly.

The crowd behind you is going absolutely mad behind you, and cameras are going off at an almost blinding rate, but his eyes don’t leave yours. Nodding, you can’t even form words, so caught up in the moment, and he stands, pulling you into a kiss. The flash of cameras surround you like a sea of stars and Ben’s the only thing keeping you on solid ground. His grip is tight enough that he almost lifts you off the ground, and you’re on your tiptoes with his arms around you before his grip loosens, his hands sliding down the small of your back, and for the first time since this whole fake relationship began, he doesn’t hesitate before he deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint and you’re so glad you’re wearing that twenty-four hour lipstick or you know you’d be a mess, and when you pull back, you’re both out of breath, looking at each other with a something akin to awe in your eyes.

You’re pretty sure, in this moment, you love him; nothing fake about it. And you can see it in his eyes that he loves you too. This is dangerous territory for you both.

Stepping back, he takes your hands again.

“I told you not to cry, love.” He laughs gently, voice so soft as you dab at your eyes with your right hand, watching as he slides the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand.

“What can I say, you have a way with words; how long were you working on that speech.” You sniffle, grinning brightly as you examine the ring, still holding his hand. After a beat too long of silence, you look up to see him smiling softly at you.

“A while.” He admits, and something about the way he says it makes your chest ache. The moment passes and he looks down at your joined hands. “That’s fucking hideous.” He whispers, shaking his head at the sight of the ring, and you giggle, preferring to throw your arms around him, kissing him again.

The two of you are the last two to arrive at the formal photo area, with the logo backdrop, and Joe’s grin is confused where he greets you both at the edge of where everyone was in a line getting a group shot.

“What was all the commotion over there?” He asked quietly, and Ben stepped into position easily, slipping an arm around Joe’s shoulders and pulling you in. You were still beaming, you couldn’t help yourself.

“We got engaged.” Ben murmurs to Joe, careful not to draw attention to them, which was immediately counteracted by Joe’s loud ‘What the fuck?!’ “Calm down, man, we didn’t want to take all the focus off of the premiere, you know?” 

As soon as the big group shot was taken, you stepped off to the side as the four boys had their photos taken, and you could see Joe murmuring to the others, while Ben just smiled for the cameras and tried not to blush.

Photos were taken with Brian and Roger, of Rami and Lucy, and even some of you and Ben, and when you posed, you both had an arm around each other, and you leaned into him, resting your hand on his chest with your ring on clear display.

There’s congratulations all around as you’re heading into the theatre, but the biggest shock of the night comes in the form of Roger Taylor wrapping you up in a hug while you’re still glowing with pride.

“Before we go in, I want you to know you did an incredible job, dear. You’re a stunning performer and I never had any doubts about you.” As he says it, you can feel Ben give your hand a gentle squeeze. You’re pretty sure you’ve got shock written all over your face. “I’m very proud of you both.” He claps Ben on the shoulder, and Ben thanks him quietly. It looks as though he’s about to head in, but he turns back. “Be good to her, you hear?” He says to Ben sternly, but there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes, and Ben rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He’s still holding your hand.

“What was that?” You breathed as soon as Roger had left; you feel like you’ve been doused in cold water, though you can’t help but smile.

“Well I think he definitely approves of you playing Amanda.” Ben moves to wrap an arm around you as the two of you head into the theatre, searching for your seats. “And I think... I think he gave us his blessing?” That sounds more confused than anything else, and you don’t know how to respond one way or the other, apart from softly laughing as you sit down next to Lucy. Part of you, the largest part that had stayed sane and not drunk on this fake engagement, is pretty sure Roger’s going to be the hardest to break it to, when everything’s over; part of you worries that without Ben, you’ll lose his approval, which you didn’t realise you’d been craving until you’d received it. There’s an anxiety that builds in your chest as the lights go down, but Ben’s hand is in yours and you lean your head on his shoulder, and you can ignore that little worry for now.

the rat pack: @hotspacedeacon @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @itssaje @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine @i-padfootblack-things @deaconsroger @spookyfrances @holyurlbatman @your-idiotic-excellency @cosmicsskies @chlobo6 @screaminggalileochickenwrites

(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire (117/155)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Sixteen

Strange was on the ground but he was awake and Peter stood a few feet away, the iron legs gone back into the suit and his mask pulled back. The cape flew away from Peter where Peter had been greeting it to Strange as Tony approached and let the nanotech in the suit pull back entirely as he walked towards them.

“We’ve got to turn this ship around,” Strange said.

It was Tony’s first instinct too. Figure out how to turn the ship around and go back home. It was sort of his main instinct because Peter was on the ship. The only thing was that he didn’t know if they could or if it was the right thing to do. Maybe there was something to the idea of catching Thanos unaware because the last thing that he was probably expecting was for them to show up wherever the ship was headed. After all, they were already headed to space so maybe they just needed to stick with that trajectory since Strange had gotten them into this situation in the first place by not leaving when he could have.

“Stark, we have to turn the ship around.”

“Yeah. Now he wants to run. Great plan,” Tony muttered.

“No,” Strange grounded out. “I want to protect the stone.”

Tony really just -- he hated how arrogant Strange was even after Tony had gone to the trouble of saving his life. He headed towards what looked to be the controls of the ship.

“And I want you to thank me. Go ahead. I’m listening,” Tony added as he walked away.

“For what? Nearly blasting me into space?” Strange asked as if he hadn’t been surrounded by needles just a few minutes earlier.

It was as if he wasn’t taking into consideration at all that Tony and Peter had had to leave Earth to save him because he and the Time Stone around his neck had gotten captured and taken onto an alien ship.

“Who just saved your magical ass?” Tony asked and he turned because he knew that Strange had walked after him. “Me.”

“I seriously don’t know how you fit your head into that helmet,” Strange said and Tony thought that he must have said it solely to irritate him. He really couldn’t stand this man.

If Strange had only listened to Tony while they were on Earth when Tony told him to leave it was possible that they wouldn’t be in the situation they were finding themselves in now on some alien ship in space headed to -- well, Tony had no idea where they were headed.

“Admit it,” Tony said. “You should have ducked out when I told you to. I tried to bench you. You refused.”

Dr. Strange scoffed and it was clear that he was too arrogant and too determined to disagree with Tony and at least bickering with him took his mind off of worrying about Peter and the outcome of the situation they were in. From the looks of it it the ship was on some sort of autopilot. Tony had no way of knowing where it was headed but there was certainly a destination.

“Unlike everyone else in your life,” Strange said, “I don’t work for you.”

“And due to that fact, we’re now in a flying donut billions of miles away from Earth with no backup.” That was the part that really rankled Tony if he was honest. He had no way to contact the team -- to let them know what was going on or that they were okay. No way to figure out a plan together and really decide what their best choice would be. They were on their own. He and Peter were on their own with Strange.

“I’m backup,” Peter spoke up from behind Strange.

Tony didn’t want to be angry with Peter. He didn’t want to be upset at him for staying on the ship when Tony had been sending home and yet it was there under the surface because Tony had to think about the universe as a whole and his mind just kept going back to protecting his kid because to him that was the most important thing and yet -- Peter’s well being couldn’t be the priority. Not this time.

“No,” Tony said, addressing Peter, “you’re a stowaway.” And for good measure he pointed at himself and Strange. “The adults are talking.”

Peter’s shoulders dropped a little and he looked like he was ready to argue back, but he seemed to rethink it.

“I’m sorry,” Strange said. He was looking between him and Peter with some interest. “So, I’m a bit confused as to the relationship here. What is he? Your ward?”  

“No,” Peter said. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” Tony said. “After all, everyone knows I have a son.”

Granted, most people didn’t know that his son was Peter and that his son was Spider-Man, but Strange wouldn’t care one way or another.

Strange grunted. “I don’t actually follow your media coverage, Stark,” he said. “So this is your son, then?” Strange looked Peter over, seemingly taking the moment to really look at him before he let out a breath. “I’m Doctor Strange,” he said directing it at Peter.

Tony busied himself looking at the controls of the ship, trying to figure out how they worked and what they might need to do to get control of the ship and maybe get it off of autopilot too.

“Oh,” Peter said, “we’re using our made-up names. Um, I’m Spider-Man, then.”

Tony tried not to laugh. He wasn’t sure if Peter had said it because he was serious or because he was getting some amusement out of confusing Strange.

“The ship is self-correcting its course,” Tony informed them. “It’s on autopilot.”

Tony still wasn’t sure if they should head back home. The father in him said yes -- that it was the best thing to do. It would mean being back somewhere familiar where they could figure out what to do with the Time Stone. It would also mean having Peter back on Earth and having the option of trying to keep Peter out of trouble. But he couldn’t make that decision based solely on what was best for Peter. He couldn’t be a dad -- he couldn’t be Tony Stark about it. He had to be Iron Man -- he had to be an Avenger.

“Can we control it? Fly us home?” Strange asked.

Tony didn’t answer. What were the better odds? Thanos would come for the stone no matter where they were and with him destruction and death.

“Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you get us home?” Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to badly.

“I heard you,” Tony said. “I’m -- I’m thinking -- well...I’m not so sure we should go back.”

Tony knew that as soon as he said it that Strange didn’t agree and that he didn’t understand what Tony meant by it.

“Under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos,” Strange said. “I don’t think you quite understand what’s at stake here.” He got in Tony’s face, anger and fear so obvious in the way he stared at Tony and it was so demeaning and pushy and of course Tony understood. He understood better than anyone.

“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand,” Tony shot back. “Thanos has been inside my head for six years! Since he sent an army to New York and now he’s back and I don’t know what to do. So, I’m not so sure if it’s a better plan to fight him on our turf or his, but you saw what they did. What he can do. At least on his turf, he’s not expecting it. So, I say we take the fight to him.”

He had decided. He was sure it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Tony stared at Strange and at least the man was smart enough to take Tony’s words and think on them and not just shove them aside like everything else Tony had said.

“Doctor, do you concur?”

Strange took a moment and then there was a slight nod even though Tony could tell that Strange wasn’t entirely sure. “Alright, Stark. We go to him.”

Was it a good plan? Tony wasn’t sure -- it just seemed like the thing to do. Because if they could turn the ship around -- assuming they could even manage that -- it wouldn’t exactly lead them away from the fight. Tony started to turn away from Strange, but Strange stopped him and he looked almost apologetic in the way he stared at Tony. He glanced back towards Peter once before speaking.

“You have to understand,” Strange said, “if it comes to saving you or your son or the Time Stone -- I will not hesitate to let either of you die. The fate of the universe depends on it.”

Peter let out a gasp. Small and almost silent. Tony tried not to react with anger.  

“Good,” Tony said. “Nice moral compass you got there.”

Strange looked away and Tony stepped back too and then he looked towards Peter. Too loyal and too wonderful Peter who should have been back on Earth safe and sound. Tony would have felt so much better about this decision if Peter wasn’t there. He hated the idea of bringing Peter along to this fight -- to face a threat worse than any they’d ever faced before. Peter had moved over, closer to the controls which he looked at with curious interest.

Tony dropped a hand to Peter’s shoulder and Peter just moved into a hug almost instantly as if it were instinct to him and Tony didn’t mind it at all. Peter’s arms wrapped around Tony’s middle and he was warm and breathing and alive and Tony could hear his heartbeat and it was enough. Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s head and he closed his eyes and let himself imagine that they weren’t on an alien ship and instead back home and none of it was true.

“Love you, kid,” Tony said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” Peter whispered.

“I know.” And he did. He could tell that Peter felt sorry -- he maybe didn’t regret his actions completely, but he hated disappointing Tony. “It’s -- I don’t know if I’d say it’s okay but there’s nothing to be done now.”

“I know,” Peter said.

When Tony looked up he found that Strange was watching them.

Chapter One Hundred Eighteen