#he doesn't see peter as a threat so it would all be very “this is just a phase that we can work through together”

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

[db extremis!tony] what would you have done if you’d caught on to Peter’s plan?

Oh, it would've broken my heart. We would have needed to talk about it, obviously, so I could understand what he was thinking that made him even try it.

I wouldn't have wanted to punish him for it, but obviously I wouldn't be able to trust him with access to the lab after that. And if we couldn't come to an understanding, I probably would have needed to keep him home even after the plan went through-- if he was so convinced that Extremis had changed me that he was willing to drug me, I wouldn't be able to rule out that he would try to run away.

But more than anything, I would need to make us understand each other.

[book--brackets]

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (2012-2016)

Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue never sees them--until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks to her.

His name is Gansey, a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.

But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can't entirely explain. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul whose emotions range from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher who notices many things but says very little.

For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She doesn't believe in true love, and never thought this would be a problem. But as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

Shades of Magic by V. E. Schwab (2015-2017)

Kell is one of the last Antari--magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black.Kell was raised in Arnes--Red London--and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they'll never see. It's a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive.

The Witcher by Andrzej Sapkowski (1992-2013)

For over a century, humans, dwarves, gnomes, and elves have lived together in relative peace. But times have changed, the uneasy peace is over, and now the races are fighting once again. The only good elf, it seems, is a dead elf. 

Geralt of Rivia, the cunning assassin known as the Witcher, has been waiting for the birth of a prophesied child. This child has the power to change the world -- for good, or for evil. 

As the threat of war hangs over the land and the child is hunted for her extraordinary powers, it will become Geralt's responsibility to protect them all. And the Witcher never accepts defeat. 

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones (1986-2008)

Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl's castle.

To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there's far more to Howl--and herself--than first meets the eye.

In this giant jigsaw puzzle of a fantasy, people and things are never quite what they seem. Destinies are intertwined, identities exchanged, lovers confused. The Witch has placed a spell on Howl. Does the clue to breaking it lie in a famous poem? And what will happen to Sophie Hatter when she enters Howl's castle?

The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher (2000-2020)

As a professional wizard, Harry Dresden knows firsthand that the “everyday” world is actually full of strange and magical things—and most of them don’t play well with humans. And those that do enjoy playing with humans far too much. He also knows he’s the best at what he does. Technically, he’s the only at what he does. But even though Harry is the only game in town, business—to put it mildly—stinks.

So when the Chicago P.D. bring him in to consult on a double homicide committed with black magic, Harry’s seeing dollar signs. But where there’s black magic, there’s a black mage behind it. And now that mage knows Harry’s name…

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (1911)

Peter Pan, the book based on J. M. Barrie's famous play, is filled with unforgettable characters: Peter Pan, the boy who would not grow up; the fairy, Tinker Bell; the evil pirate, Captain Hook; and the three children-Wendy, John, and Michael-who fly off with Peter Pan to Neverland, where they meet Indians and pirates and a crocodile that ticks.

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov (1966)

One hot spring, the devil arrives in Moscow, accompanied by a retinue that includes a beautiful naked witch and an immense talking black cat with a fondness for chess and vodka. The visitors quickly wreak havoc in a city that refuses to believe in either God or Satan. But they also bring peace to two unhappy Muscovites: one is the Master, a writer pilloried for daring to write a novel about Christ and Pontius Pilate; the other is Margarita, who loves the Master so deeply that she is willing literally to go to hell for him. What ensues is a novel of in exhaustible energy, humor, and philosophical depth.

Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples (2012-present)

When two soldiers from opposite sides of a never-ending galactic war fall in love, they risk everything to bring a fragile new life into a dangerous old universe. Saga is the sweeping tale of one young family fighting to find their place in the worlds. Fantasy and science fiction are wed like never before in this sexy, subversive drama for adults.

The Farseer Trilogy by Robin Hobb (1995-1997)

Young Fitz is the bastard son of the noble Prince Chivalry, raised in the shadow of the royal court by his father's gruff stableman. He is treated as an outcast by all the royalty except the devious King Shrewd, who has him secretly tutored in the arts of the assassin. For in Fitz's blood runs the magic Skill--and the darker knowledge of a child raised with the stable hounds and rejected by his family. 

 As barbarous raiders ravage the coasts, Fitz is growing to manhood. Soon he will face his first dangerous, soul-shattering mission. And though some regard him as a threat to the throne, he may just be the key to the survival of the kingdom.

Earthsea Cycle by Ursula K. Le Guin (1968-2001)

Ged was the greatest sorcerer in Earthsea, but in his youth he was the reckless Sparrowhawk. In his hunger for power and knowledge, he tampered with long-held secrets and loosed a terrible shadow upon the world.

This is the tumultuous tale of his testing, how he mastered the mighty words of power, tamed an ancient dragon, and crossed death's threshold to restore the balance.

[babyhatesreality]

What if maybe stucky had a day off for the first time in awhile and they planned on spending it w/ reader. She was really looking forward to it. But maybe one of the caregivers asked them to watch their little for the day last minute bc they were called away on a mission. Stucky accidentally ignores reader all day and just really hurts her feelings. Maybe they spoil the other little let them pick the movie and lunch etc. How would they make it up to reader?

-M

Hi M! First off, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH for being so patient. I'm so so sorry it has taken me so long to get to your amazing thoughts and questions. So let's dive in <3

What A Day

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, pet names, language, anxiety, very upset Peter (but not at reader), angst, misunderstanding, frustrations, scolding, threat of punishment, tears, fluffity fluff fluff fluff, everything gets worked out in the end because I always need a happy ending.

A/N- not my best writing style, I'm sorry, words are hard right now. But I love you all and want to try to get these requests out for you all, so I hope you like it anyways.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

Today was the day! You were all set to spend the day together, just you and your daddies. You were so excited, you had been looking forward to it for the longest time. You all had tried to plan stuff before this, and something always came up. Every time. But not today! No way, not today!

Until it did.

Tony and Pepper received a very-last-minute summons to the White House to 'discuss some urgent matters' as Pepper put it or bail their asses out, as Tony put it. There was no way they could bring Peter, who was feeling extra little and clingy, so Steve, seeing their panic, volunteered to take him for the day, since you'd all planned on being at home anyways and the rest of the team were out on assignment.

You were a bit disappointed, but Petey was your best friend in the world, so this was going to be fun, right? Well......

When they dropped Peter off, he was definitely in a littler headspace than you had even seen him. He was crying hard in Steve's arms as Tony and Pepper left (both trying their hardest not to well up).

You tried to help, patting him on the leg and offering him Emma Bear or Pipsqueak to hold, but he didn't want either of them and tried to bat your hand away.

This shocked you a bit, but Bucky picked you up and whispered in your ear that Peter just needed a little extra attention right now. You nodded in understanding, and as soon as Bucky set you back down, you set off to your playroom, determined to find things to make him smile.

When you got back though- your arms full of toys and stuffies that you knew he'd like- you were a bit surprised to see both Steve and Bucky on the couch, side by side, comforting and holding Peter. You dropped your toys on the floor, wanting to come be a part of the cuddle party, but the noise scared Peter who started to cry again.

"Baby, you need to be more careful," Steve scolded very gently, knowing you hadn't done it on purpose. "I know you're trying to help, but Peter doesn't like loud noises right now. Please go put your toys back."

You started to protest that you had only picked out toys to be nice, but Bucky cut you off. "Go put 'em up, love, you heard Papa." It was a gentle tone, but you knew better than to try to argue.

Trying to be quiet, you carefully put them back slowly. But every time you came back to the room, you eyed your daddies meaningfully, hoping they'd ask you to be a part of the cuddle party, but they were so focused on keeping the little boy calm that they missed it entirely.

Once you were done, you quietly came over with Pipsqueak, holding him out to Peter, who took him, but turned his face back into Steve's chest. Feeling both frustrated and a little jealous, you said, "You s'posed to say 'tank you'." Peter just whined in reply.

This time, Steve looked at you sternly. "Baby, please don't upset Peter right now. He's feeling very little and needs quiet."

"But he didn't say tank you and you always say I gotta use my manners..."

Bucky picked you up before you caused Peter to start crying again, and started carrying you down the hallway to your playroom. "Listen up, angel, Peter is too young and upset to remember manners right now, and you're being loud when we've asked you to quiet down. Why don't you stay and play in here for a while until Peter is feeling better?" He set you down in the playroom and quickly shut the door before you had a chance to say anything.

You felt like you were being punished, even though you'd never get to stay in your playroom with all your toys when you were actually being punished. But you couldn't help but feel that way. Your daddies weren't spending any time with you now, and your bestie was treating you like you were mean, and it wasn't fair at all.

Bucky came to get you about an hour later for lunch. You were disappointed when you found that lunch was already made, because you loved it when you got to stir the mac and cheese. But when you were eating and Steve started telling Peter what a good job he'd done stirring, you got mad.

You shoved yourself off your chair and got exactly one step away before Bucky picked you up and plopped you back down. "You haven't been excused, little girl," he said a bit sharply, getting tired of your antics. You glowered as once again you were being asked to have manners when Peter didn't have to. Bucky made you sit there until all your lunch was eaten, which was well after Peter and Steve finished theirs and left to go watch a movie together.

You got even angrier when they picked a different movie than the one that you all were supposed to watch today, but you were still stuck in your dumb chair and couldn't do anything about it. Bucky had to threaten you with a time out and early bedtime before you finally finished eating. And once you did, he gave you a little talking-to about your attitude before taking your hand and bringing you over to the couch to watch the movie with them.

What you saw when you got there stopped you cold.

Steve had wrapped Peter up in your special yellow weighted blanket. Now, normally this wouldn't be a big deal, as you always wanted to share with your bestie, but this was YOUR special blanket for when you were feeling upset or overstimulated or needed comfort- and right now, you were definitely feeling all three.

"Dat's my special blanket," you said, pointing and mumbling. You didn't want to be loud or 'keep having an attitude', but this was just too much.

The look of disappointment in Steve's eyes hurt your heart. "Honey, we share in this house," he said, making you feel even worse. "You know that."

You couldn't stop the tears from overflowing at this point. "I alweady gave him my whole day!" you sobbed, before turning around and running to your room. You didn't slam your door- you'd only get in more trouble- but you pushed it mostly shut before diving into your stuffies, pulling Jellybean in close, and continuing to sob.

You heard a soft knock on your door a few moments later. "Baby, it's Daddy. May I come in please?" You only buried yourself deeper into your furry friends, afraid that Daddy was going to scold you again.

Bucky slowly opened the door, and his heart shattered at seeing you crying into all your stuffed animals. "I'm gonna come in, okay?" he added softly, stepping forward gently. If you really didn't want him in there, he would leave, but as you gave no indication one way or the other, he came in quietly and sat on the foot of your bed.

Once your tears and sobs slowed down, you risked a peek at Daddy in between Jellybean's soft fluffy ears. His face broke into a sad smile once he saw your red eyes. "Hey there, Trouble," he said gently. "Can Daddy hold you please?"

You didn't want another talking-to about your attitude, so you obediently pushed yourself up and crawled over to him. But when he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you to his chest, like he did when he was comforting you, you suddenly realized that you weren't in trouble- that he really did want to just hold you. And the tears started all over again.

Bucky just held on, rocking you gently, rubbing your back, squeezing you tight when the tears turned into sobs, pressing soft kisses onto the top of your head. Once you cried yourself out, he plucked a tissue from the bedside table and held it to your face so you could blow. He mopped you up, still cuddling you all the while. "I'm really sorry you didn't get your day with us, Trouble," he said softly. "And I'm sorry that Papa and I were so focused on Peter and didn't see how upset you were. We weren't very nice to you today, were we?"

Sniffing mightily, you rubbed your nose with the back of your hand, resting your tired and aching head on Daddy's chest. "You was twying to help Petey. I sowwy I was bad and loud and mean," you mumbled.

"Baby, you were NOT bad or mean. You were loud, but that's just you- and we like you that way," Bucky said, finally grinning, which made you giggle. "I know that you were trying to help, and I'm sorry that I didn't have the patience to see that, and that we left you on your own today when we were trying to take care of Peter. So how about this? You and I can take some R&R together right now, just you and me, and then we can figure out everything else afterwards?"

Absolutely exhausted, you just nodded, falling asleep in Daddy's arms before he could even lay you down. And true to his word, he stayed with you for your whole nap, cuddling you and running his fingers through your hair.

After you all had naps, Peter was feeling much better, and the four of you played legos and dinosaurs in the living room until Tony and Pepper came home. It was a relief to Bucky and Steve, who had quietly worried that this was going to mess up Peter's and your friendship. But as always, after a good nap, things seemed brighter and you both were back to the giggling troublemakers you usually were, playing happily and noisily until Peter went home.

After you all had eaten supper, Papa cuddled you on his lap, apologizing too, and the three of you had a really good talk (with you still in younger space) about all of you feeling jealously, frustrations, and angry feelings, and being safe to calmly tell each other. They also helped work out some hand signals for you in case you went non-verbal or couldn't find the right words to tell them how you were feeling. You felt like a much happier baby after new ways to help you express yourself, and gleefully accepted Papa's cuddles all night (since Daddy had gotten them all to himself during nap time, he argued it was his turn).

The next day, Fury had blocked every single message to your daddies as well as access to your floor (barring emergency protocols, but ya know) making sure that you all truly had the whole day to yourselves. Daddy made your favorite cinnamon and sugar french toast for breakfast, which he fed to you bite by bite while you wiggled with energy.

The three of you went to your favorite quiet park out of the city, where you joyfully screamed down the slide, scrambled up the net ladder, giggled rocking back and forth on the bouncy animals, and had a contest with your daddies to see who could swing you the highest. THAT was the best.

You had a picnic lunch and had a blast bouncing back and forth between your daddies, insisting on feeding them blueberries one at a time. For some reason, that absolutely tickled you to no end, and you ended up laughing your head off the entire time. You fell asleep in your seat on the way home, and woke up in your bed. You found your daddies and the three of you drew pictures and colored together, then made a blanket fort in the living room for later.

Papa let you help him make dinner, and while it wasn't stirring- mac-and-cheese, it was still really fun. And then they both surprised you with being able to make a batch of your favorites- chocolate chip cookies! Right after the cookies cooled just enough, you FINALLY got to watch your movie, snuggled in between the two of them in your blanket fort, munching on the delicious treats.

Papa gave you a bath, letting you pick out both bubbles and a bath bomb, and Daddy put on your lotion and helped you pick out jammies and your nighttime books. You fell asleep in the crook of Bucky's arm, safe and warm, the three of you now more bonded than ever.

[literaila]

PETER PARKER ANGST????❤️🫡🛬🤭😍🗣🙀🫡😀🫡🫶😀😟🫶😟❤️ (if you dont write it ill sob violently on the floor ☹️)

we could call it even

tasm!peter x fem!reader

summary:

"peter parker," she says, "you're like a legend around here."

warnings: unspecified angst, series, no fluff, no explanation

a/n: might i introduce a playlist entitled stupid boy which i listened to while writing this (and the other parts????)

*

there's a specific time of night that is appropriate to go to the market. 

or inappropriate, depending on how old you are. 

if you're in your sixties and sometimes feel like your joints are just notches that need to be oiled, midnight probably isn't your designed time for grocery shopping. seven in the morning is typically the best time for swollen lungs and--literal--broken hearts. 

but if you're you, exhausted from running around all day, unpleasant from all of the people you've talked to, and trying to avoid anyone (everyone) you might know--and secrets you don't feel like sharing--then midnight is a perfect time. and perfectly normal, thank you very much.

you're not even sure why meyer's is open this late. there's no way the owner, jerry, is staying up until midnight to check out the lowlifes or drunk teenagers stopping by, and you know that these aren't prime business hours--evident by the crickets you can hear behind the 'fresh produce' section. maybe he forgets that it's open, and that susan--the only person willing to work here--is still on the clock. or maybe he's just taking pity on you. you don’t think he’s ever there, but maybe he hides around corners, noting the new lines on your face so he can report it back to every person in town. gossip is like a disease, and you’re never alone in a place like this. never quite at peace. 

you look around the next shelf for jerry, or a gust of wind that follows him running away. there’s only silence. the echoes of your footsteps. 

it doesn't matter why meyer’s is open. you're thankful for this time alone. or at least by yourself.

it's a welcome change to have no one judge you for your selection of deli cheese and baked goods. or the three containers of instant coffee you've hidden underneath it all. just out of habit. 

tuesday nights are yours, and the market is your chosen domain. 

usually, that is. usually, you're all alone. usually, you can run around on the carts and pick up anything you accidentally knock over. you can spill an entire bottle of wine on the floor and no one will blink an eye. jerry wouldn’t even be able to hear it from three feet away.

but tonight--on this tuesday when your feet hurt a little bit more than necessary, and your eyes are twitching at all of the lights--apparently you're not alone. 

which you wished you would have realized before you started humming 'single ladies' a bit too loudly. 

you wished you would have skipped shopping at all, really, as soon as you see his face. 

his wide eyes--surprised and silvered by age, much like yours--and his open mouth.

in a different world, you would be shocked--shocked instead of scared--and you might run to him. you might ask him why he didn't tell you he was coming? what is he doing here? in a different world, you two would be the only people in the market and it would be fine. 

it might even be great. 

this subtle shift in autonomy wouldn’t hurt the peace you’re looking for on this tuesday night.

there wouldn't be this obvious horror story standing between the two of you, this looming presence. the history of a thousand lies, bruise after bruise, and scars so red that they could burn through the ground. glass shattered around your feet.

the lights might as well start flickering. you should probably call out "hello?" even though he's right in front of you, and if he was going to murder you, he probably wouldn't answer. a door should creak. 

you should probably go. 

you should probably run away before he can take a step closer. you don't look a threat in the eye and smile at it. you don't feed a stray cat. 

it always comes back. 

why is he here? 

you take a step away. as soon as you notice him--behind, between, all over you--silence ensues. you might as well be at a loss for words. you don't have much to say to him. 

not to that look in his eyes, or his receding hairline, or that peak on his mouth. 

because peter would be here. at this time. and he would be trying to hide a smile, a smirk, when he's not even supposed to be within a five-hundred-foot vicinity of you. 

actually, maybe you forgot to mail that restraining order. 

but the words come out anyway because your body has always betrayed you when it comes to him. 

"peter?" you blurt out, and just saying the word stirs the simmering feeling inside of you. just saying his name is enough of a warning. 

"hey," he whispers and takes a step closer. you step back. he leans away like he knows his proximity is toxic. "sorry, i didn't mean to scare you." 

i didn't mean to. 

and yet. 

you breathe and forget how to blink. he might disappear. "peter," you repeat, as a form of masochism. you don't breathe at all. 

"sorry," he says, again. he doesn't say what for. there could be a million things. 

"um," you choke out, looking around--away from him and his manipulative eyes. "what?" you laugh to yourself, hand running over your face. you roll your eyes back into your head and laugh again. you shake your head. 

you look at peter, at his furrowed brow and inward stance, and you snort. look away from him before it's too late. 

you're laughing like something is funny. it's not. 

it's really not. 

"are you..." peter is swallowing. you'd like to pretend that his voice is hollow and cold, much like that cave inside your chest, but it's not. you recognize that concern, that softness in his voice that used to be just yours. "are you okay?" 

you almost giggle at him. it comes out as more of a cough. 

you wonder if you look like a ghost. some remanent of who you used to be--the person that only peter used to know.

"peter," you sigh, and step away from your cart. into the shelf you've been backing yourself into. 

you step away from him, still shaking your head. 

"i've got to--" you trip as you turn around and say to mostly yourself, "i've got to go." 

groceries, and peter, be damned, you think, as you walk out of the building and prepare yourself to never ever come back. 

it wouldn't be the first time. 

*

you are having your daily debate with mrs. brooke about the amount of calories in each pastry, in which you tell her that you only measure the amount of pleasure someone might get out of each one—which earns you a lovely sneer—and that she should try the blueberry scone. 

she always rolls her eyes at you, says something about watching her weight even though she’s looked the same since you were five years old and sneaking through her yard to catch the neighborhood cat. and then she leaves with a breakfast sandwich. 

it’s actually one of the most enjoyable parts of your day. 

here’s the thing about knowing every single person that comes into the shop: you know exactly what they’re going to order, and you know what type of conversation you’re going to have with them. 

mrs. brooke always stresses about her breakfast, her smile a tense sort of pleasant, but by the time she leaves her head is held a little higher. if she chooses the sandwich instead of the scone, then she’s started her day off right. you used to feel exasperated by her indecisive nature, but now you find it kind of adorable. 

mr. meyer—jerry—just comes in so he can complain about the surplus of options on your menu. he wants a black coffee, and he wants to complain. you always smile at him and ask if he’s sure he doesn’t want to try the raspberry green tea. he finds this less than humorous. 

every kid wants some kind of hot chocolate—which you actually have an excessive amount of—and no matter what their parents say, you sneak some extra marshmallows in. and everyone pretends otherwise. 

susan—your kindergarten teacher, now friend—asks if you’ve met anyone special lately. it doesn’t matter that the selection of single people your age is always the same. there’s got to be someone special, she says to you and leaves with a cider she tells everyone is a latte. 

there are the people who want their lattes and mochas, those who want some alternative milk that they complain about—even though you’ve tried every brand on earth—there are the people who don’t ever buy anything, and just come in to pretend they want something and talk to you. they gossip about the other people in town as if you aren’t well aware of everything that goes on.

you roll your eyes, but you appreciate the company. things get pretty boring when you can guess everyone’s schedule. 

but you like your tiny tea shop. you like the consistency. you enjoy the smiles you throw out, and the complaints you receive. it’s a routine, and nothing goes wrong. you're in control of this one thing, and that's just how you like it. 

in control, that is, of course, until you see him when mrs. brooke is walking away. 

“oh!” she says, pausing, her drink shaking in hand, her pink fingernails a smudge against the shadow suddenly coming from right in front of you. she is just a foot too close to him. “is that peter parker?” she asks, saying his voice like an omen, turning around so she can set her cup and bag down, and then hugging him so hard you can see her muscles working beneath her sleeve. 

“hey, mrs. brooke,” peter wheezes out, a strangled smile on his aged face. his same eyes.

he is just as surprised as you at her sudden outburst, the cooing noises she's making as she attempts to crumble him.

“look how handsome you’ve gotten! and so strong. what are those new yorkers doing with you?” 

“definitely not trying to squeeze me to death.” 

mrs. brooke laughs, somewhat vindictively, and she turns back around to look at you, with wide eyes. “did you know he was in town, dear? why didn’t you say anything? i almost had a heart attack.” 

peter clears his throat before you can throw any type of face on. any mask. “it’s a surprise,” he mock whispers, and his eyes dash to yours, then away, just as quick. “don’t tell anyone.” 

“it’s not like they’d believe me anyway,” she scoffs, “you’re a legend around here.” 

“i’m honored.” 

she laughs again, then grabs her cup. “oh,” she whispers, too loud. her eyes are tight, as if she’s intruded. “of course. i’ll leave and let you two talk.” 

and within a blink of an eye, she is running out of the shop, faster than you’ve ever seen anyone escape from here. 

and peter is there, standing in front of you. his face is smooth, calm, his eyes roaming over your face like he still has the privilege of knowing any of it. 

and your heart might be racing, if it was still there. 

"hi," he whispers. it is quiet enough for you to feel it in your chest. his voice and the memory of it. 

does he sound different? has he really changed that much in the last two years? is his face a bit worn? are his eyes a different color? 

but it doesn’t matter what rattles through your head—when you look at peter, you just see him. your peter. 

except that he’s completely different. 

you clear your throat, looking away and pushing off of the counter. “what can i get you?” 

peter blinks. “oh, um…” he looks at the menu above your head, back to you. “what—“ he swallows. “what would you recommend?” 

“it’s all good.” your voice is clipped. you should’ve said pure brewed black tea, no ice, no sweetener, no cup. just to get him out of here. you should've recommended the starbucks three towns over.

he swallows, again. a hand rakes through his hair. “i… just a sec.” 

there is a single second where you grant him the patience you would give every other customer—smile politely and let them know to ask if they have any questions. a single second where you treat him like anybody else. 

and then you say: “do you want a mocha, peter?” with an anger that shouldn’t—can’t—be contained inside of you. 

you wince at his name. the singe of his brand on you, going down your throat. 

peter seems to watch this on your face, because he’s even quieter when he answers, “sure, that’d be great.” 

at least some things haven’t changed.

so you grab a cup, writing his name on it, and move to grab the milk. 

you turn around and pretend like you’ve just forgotten he’s there. 

peter doesn’t take this hint. 

“so…” he says, his feet are loud as they tap on the ground. “you still work here, huh?” 

you barely grunt a response, spilling chocolate in the cup recklessly. if peter dies of a clogged artery it won’t be your fault. 

“that’s nice. felix always loved you. and you loved working here, back in highschool.” you have to face him as you steam the milk, and you try not to pointedly stare. not to roll your eyes or hiss at him. “it’s different though. the decor, i mean. but nice. i like it. did you do it?” 

“yes.” 

you grab his cup, pouring the milk and shoving the cap on it. “here,” your fingertips burn as you pass it to him, and you don’t think it’s because of the drink. 

“thank you.” 

you both stand there; peter blinks and doesn’t leave. 

he coughs. “i didn’t pay.”

“mrs. brooke would kill me if i made you pay for your first drink back home.” 

“well, she knows where you live,” his lip twitches, but he doesn’t laugh. 

and neither do you. 

“is it just you here?” he asks. “no felix?” 

“he sold me the shop a year ago.” 

his eyes widen. “oh. oh! that’s great. congrats.” 

“thank you.” 

you don’t move your eyes from his face, because it’s suddenly not fair that he’s here. that he’s allowed to intrude like this. 

“it’s good to see you,” peter relents, a fake smile playing on his lips. 

you falter. your heart turns in your chest, just so it doesn’t have to look at him anymore. “i’m working, okay?” you say, whispering. “i can't do this right now.” 

“right. yeah.” peter trips on a step back. his eyes are scanning your face again. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t—“ he blows out a breath. “i’m sorry.” 

you nod. watch the ground as he stumbles over it. 

“i mean it though,” he adds, like he hadn’t thought about it. “it’s good to see you.” 

and then peter swallows. you blink at him. 

when he turns around the bell rings as he pushes it. and peter doesn’t look back. 

he’s right about one thing, at least. it is nostalgic. 

*

"when were you going to tell me?" your mom asks, leaning against her kitchen counter--the same one you scribbled on as a kid, smiley faces still apparent. she's doing that fake smile thing. the one that makes you want to storm off and slam the door like some mistreated teenager. 

you don't, but both of you know that you think about it. for at least five seconds

"tell you what?" you ask, instead, setting the groceries you brought for her on the counter. 

"about peter." 

your eyes close. he would follow you around, wherever you go. he's probably hiding in some vent, smiling maliciously. 

there's that teasing voice in your head saying small town, small small town, but you just turn around, ignoring it, and her, and raise a brow. "peter parker?" you repeat, rhetorically. "twenty-six, new york. brown hair, brown eyes. lived here his whole life, has an aunt who lives next door, tried to steal our cat when he was nine..." you drawl off, making a point to smile. "ringing any bells?" 

she throws a dish towel at you. "you know thats not what i meant." 

"do i?" 

you wipe the counter with the towel, then fold it nicely on the counter, all the while avoiding your mother's eyes. 

but you know she won't leave it alone. the same way she hasnt left you alone once in the past four years, like she can dig your feelings up from whatever grave you buried them in.

there's a part of you that wants to crawl over to her and ask her to make you some hot chocolate, to watch some childrens movie on the couch with you. you want to be the little kid who would've depended on that knowing glance she's still giving you. the little kid who idolized her and wasn't afraid to admit the truth--even if you did steal that chocolate bar from under her sink.

but you're grown, and this doesn't matter. not in the long run, anyway. 

you look up, expectant eyes. she has your same eyes, and meets them.

"linda told nancy, who told jerry, who told me over the phone..." she shakes her head. "but may was here earlier." 

"yeah? how is she?" 

"good, busy, i'm guessing, because you know how she dotes over him." 

"yeah..." 

you fold the towel again, running your fingertips over the embrodered flowers. 

"have you seen him?" 

you swallow, and nod absentmindedly. you're not going to tell her about the grocery store. "yeah, he came into the shop yesterday." 

she taps your hand, and you let go of the rag. she hangs it back over the oven, the ebbing silence more like a threat, her hands falling to her hips. "why didn't you say anything?" 

"it's not a big deal. he came in, ordered, and then left." 

"and there were no words between the two of you?" she prods. "no wandering eyes? you just read his mind instead of taking his order?" 

you grit your teeth, rolling your eyes. "he asked for a mocha and i made it for him." 

"nothing else?" 

"he said it was nice to see me." 

she waves a hand at you. 

"and i said that i was working." you sigh, leaning against the counter. "that's all." 

"you're not freaking out?" your mom ducks her head so she can meet your eyes. her face is sullen, but her smile is genuine. 

it's like talking to a counselor. 

"why would i be freaking out? he had to come back sometime." 

she scoffs. the little necklace your dad gave her dangles from her neck, and you watch it. "i don't know," she says, using the same voice you do when she tells you not to take a tone with her. "maybe because you havent spoken to him in the last three years?" 

yeah, the same voice says, rough and patronizing, you haven't spoken to him in five years. why is that, again? 

but you snort at your mom, a defensive smile making its way to your lips as you look at her. "water under the bridge," you say, dismissing it. 

you don't want to talk about this with her. you don't want to talk about this with anyone. 

because the only person who might actually understand is the same person who left three years ago. who came back with no warning at all. 

"did may say when he got here?" you ask, voice escaping before you can stop it. 

"just a day or two ago, i think. why?" 

"is he here for the holidays?" 

"yes. she said he plans to stay until at least january. he's between jobs, i guess." 

"oh." you smack your lips and move away from her, back to the groceries, which is the reason you're here in the first place. you take out the milk jug, walking to the fridge, but a soft hand stops you. 

your mom is smiling when you turn towards her. "you don't have to talk about it," she's saying, her voice smooth and comforting. "i don't--i don't know what happened between the two of you. i just mentioned it because may said he was talking about you. it..." she drops off, wincing. 

"what?" 

"it might be good to talk to him. put the water under the bridge." 

you roll your eyes, nose twitching. you don't need to say anything, you won't. your mother is just another town gossip, and her opinion has no sway over you. 

even ask the words sink in. 

"now put the rest of those away," she says, ruffling your hair, "i know what happens when you take your 'breaks.'" 

you push her and put the milk in the fridge. 

*

you're mopping the floor when the bell rings, and a cold brush of air trails goosebumps up your skin. 

it's late enough in the season to no longer smell like the leaves falling onto the ground, or the grandesur pine needles showing off their lifespan. it's cold in the shop now, and you have three coats in the back. 

but the person who walks in is only wearing one. one you recognize from several years ago, with the holes in the sleeves from when he jumped over your fence and sprained his ankle. the stain on the front when may threw a plum soaked rag at him and you'd laughed so hard that you'd fallen to your knees on the floor and couldn't breathe. 

peter's face is wain. his eyes are cautious as they meet yours. 

you're not used to anyone coming in at 5:55. everyone knows you close at six, and the few people who'd dared to come in and order a drink a minute before you flipped your sign have learned their lesson. 

but peter hasn't learned anything. 

"i know," he says, like tracking your mind. "you close at six. may told me." 

"okay." 

you're still holding the mop, sure that his footprints would leave mud all over your floors. 

"i don't want to buy anything. or--" he breathes out, hands wringing at his sides, probably from the cold. "i will. if you want me to. but that's not why i came. i wanted to see if you..." 

he does a sweep over you, and his words fall in the air, as if he's just realized something. 

you look down at the snowflake apron your mom bought last year. it's not that dirty. 

you look back up, brows furrowed, and peter's expression matches yours. "yes?" you prod, feeling that anger simmer in the core of your chest. but you've been rude enough to him. 

your mom's words ring out in your head. 

it might be good to talk to him. 

peter swallows, whatever emotion on his face fading. "i wanted to see if you would go to dinner with me. or take a walk. or--or i'll buy you groceries, since you left yours the other night. it doesn't matter. i just want to... talk to you." 

"you want to talk to me?" 

peter nods. "i can wait outside, while you finish." he waves a hand, like an explanation. "it doesn't have to be long. just five minutes?" 

you watch peter, his face a world of feeling that you can't recognize anymore. 

and maybe that hurts the most. not him being here, not the distance or the time you've let edge you apart, but the fact that it's changed things. peter has changed and you've just let that happen. he's got a life seperate from you and there's no one to blame. he'd reached out enough, initially. months of letting his calls go to voicemail and ignoring may when you saw her in the street. 

putting yourself back together in the misshaped way you are now. peter probably doesn't even recognize you--not like this.

maybe it's your fault. 

but you find yourself nodding anyway, ignoring the guilt seeping through the cracks of you. you nod, and peter's face changes. 

it's not the first time you've noticed his eyes, or watched relief ease into him, but it's just the same. 

"yes?" peter asks, his voice rough and dry. you look at that jacket again. 

"where's your coat?" 

"my..." peter looks down with you. "oh, my coat. all of the ones aunt may kept were too small, and i thought--" he scratches his neck. "well, i forgot how cold it gets." 

you nod, slowly. 

peter nods back. 

you stare at him a moment longer, and then break away from his unfamiliar gaze. 

"just give me five minutes. i just need to put this away, and grab my stuff, and..." you swallow. 

"okay. great. do you want to me wait outside, or should i?" he gestures around, looking as uncomfortable as you've ever seen him. 

"you can sit. just--don't get any dirt on the tablebases." 

"okay. thank you." 

you nod, one last time, and look away from him. 

your heart runs circles around peter as he sits at one of your tables, his long legs not fitting beneath it. it taunts you again and again as you try not to notice him breathing, try to ignore him completely. 

you dup the mop water, spilling it on your shoes. you wipe down the last counter, the syrup sticking to your hands like a scar. you walk around the shop trying to find something else to do so you can avoid this as long as possible. your feet are cold and your hands feel abnormally dry. maybe you need to go home and shower. maybe you shouldn't be doing this at all. 

you sit in the office for a moment, wishing you could watch peter without him knowing. scope him out before you hear what he has to say. 

and--

okay, maybe there's a part of you that's been waiting three years for this. 

that dream where he's there even though you don't want him; that moment when he apologizes and you forgive him automatically, because your heart has always been small and fragile around him; that fantasy where peter comes home and he's the same teenager you used to walk around town with at two in the morning, the same brown eyes laughing as you both slipped on ice and fell on top of eachother. 

you won't deny that you've thought about this before. what you might say to him if you got the chance. 

but as you grab your bag and hang your apron around the chair in the office, the words have gone some place else. what could you say to him to make any of this make sense? 

still, you clear your throat when you walk out, feet aching from standing all day. you blink at him as he struggles to get up, pushing your chair in, the legs scratching on the floor the only sound between the two of you. 

[the-wandering-mage]

Gotham Bats ruin and save Spiderman's Operation Nest

This is like a story concept written out for a Spider-Man Batfam crossover fic I don't have the time to write fully. This is more developed than a prompt but, still is thought I'd share and maybe you guys will enjoy it and/or somebody will pick it up and develop it into a fully fledged fic. So here it goes-

A more spidery Spider-Man is dropped into a DC universe right into Gotham. It's the beginning of fall in Gotham which is a problem for a Spider seeing as he is stranded in another universe with nothing but his Spidey suit and his AI companion. He has no access to the synthesized hormone cocktail he's been taking in the winter to keep him from going into hibernation. Now Peter could get together the stuff to synthesize the medication but, he need a stable place to set up a running lab to make it as he'd need it fresh and take it on the regular. That is a lot of work and resources he'd have to come up with and maintain. Also he is a depressed boi and a long nap actually sound really good. So instead of trying to set up a lab he starts Operation Nest. He is going to find a small enclosed space and prepare it for his long winters nest.

Peter also decides pretty quickly with all the crazy dangers of Gotham and all the warnings of what Karen was able to find after connecting to this world's version of the Internet to keep the suit on and just be Spider-Man full time. The suit would keep him safe from chemical attacks and the overall pollution of Gotham as well as keep him anonymous in the very likey event he has to use his powers to defend himself. Which will let him keep a nice civilian identity that Karen crafted come spring if he chooses to.

Peter's first two objectives in Operation Nest are to get money and find a location. The first Karen helps him with easily setting up a company, then filing and selling some benign patents, since this world is really behind in tech. She also helps him get more immediate cash without crossing into stealing just by doing online commissions for simple tech support type things while the patent money is still pending. Peter gets a laptop that he uses to help with some of the tech work even though Karen can literally do five jobs at once under several fake IDs she made herself.

Most of the day for Peter however is spent looking for real estate. Which is harder in Gotham than one might think considering the rival gangs, rival super villains constantly blowing up things, and all the homeless fighting over whatever is left of the abandoned buildings. The only good thing about all this is a giant spider nest will go relatively unnoticed amongst all the other craziness. Peter's adventures running all over Gotham trying to find a place to hunker down for a couple of months cause him to run into all sorts of characters.

Peter is in a weirdly apathetic state towards himself with all his trauma so he saves people obviously, and is still empathic, maybe more so with trying to get the villians to be better people and just talking with them like real people but, he is really basley about his own safety. He has already lost everyone he cares about and he's faced down Thanos, so none of the villians at this point faze him. He doesn't see them as a threat to himself. He ends up making a bunch of friends with villains by continuing what May believed in, what Ben believed in, and helps the villains out so they can hopefully make a change.

The bats hear about him and decide to investigate but all of them get terrible first impressions and they assume he's a villain or going to be one if they don't find him. Peter is OP and scary. He's not given up his friendly neighborhood spider-man but he has stopped trying as hard to look human type of friendly. He just has slow given into being a spider and is creepy. He also leaves spider webs everywhere, since his natural ones don't dissolve like the artificial ones that he uses sparingly. This also freaks them out and there is debate on whether what they are hunting is a meta human or an intelligent spider creature. Also at least one bat at the beginning runs into one of the webs and at least one gets temporarily stuck to a criminal they are trying to free from a cocoon

By the time the bats find Spider-Man they are all convinced that he's a villain plotting something big but really they've just been stalking Peter as he completes his to do list for Operation Nest. All the dangerous equipment and suspicious purchases from villains were really to get his nest set up. Peter knew his friends had some of the stuff he needed like a cytogenetic freezer to keep some of his food from spoiling over the course of a few months since he doesn't want anyone making deliveries to his house while he's hibernating. His friends were happy to help although he still paid them despite their insistence not to.

Karen thinks it's hilarious. Although they acknowledge itd be better to just explain the situation to the bats before Peter is in active hibernation and let them find them. They totally ruin their bust by opening the doors of a small dilapidated old tailors shop in the fashion district, where Peter had set up his nest in the basement. Peter isn't happy with them feeling very territorial. He wants them not to touch anything as he shows them into his nest. He warns them and they are a bit freaked out when he hisses at them when they inevitably ignore he's instructions out of curiosity but then settle a bit when they notice how tired he is. Cass probably gets them to back off. He explains things enough so they leave him to his hibernation with the promise of hanging out in the spring.

Or alternatively. Karen is too busy setting things up she doesn't notice with her smaller processing power disconnected from Stark Tech as she is to notice the Bats noticing them. Then she is being wired into the Nest when they start getting close so, she doesn't know they are closing in. Then she is doing system checks to make sure she is able to monitor Peter when he's hibernating and can use the machines and mechanical arms to help Peter for the parts of his hibernation he will be awake or partially awake to handle his bodily needs before cocooning back into his Nest made of his natural webs and blankets.

Karen doesn't know they are there until they break her perimeter alarms and she is forced to use her defensive measures since Peter has just gone into hibernation like a day ago. The bats having more resources than Karen at their disposal and coming at her from all angles breach her defenses and get into The Nest. Karen does her best to rouse Peter with alarms blaring but she is only able to get him into a semi state of consciousness. Not enough to move him without drugging him which would be dangerous for his health and with so many coming for her charge she does her best to throw her mechanically arms in front of him to guard him where he is.

The bats once they see a sleepy confused Peter with a strange woman's voice begging them to leave him alone they feel bad realizing they judged him wrong. Especially after seeing him adorably yawn with his fangs popping out.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

The Truth Revealed

Pairing: Platonic! Peter Parker & Reader; Reader x Bucky (but that's not really plot relevant)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: nun too bad, Bucky finds out the truth and kinda blows up but it all works out yk lol

Genre: kinda angst kinda fluff

Summary: You happen to be the only person who still remembers Peter Parker exists and you are not about to hang him out to dry. So what happens when you take Peter in and basically become his guardian? Well- nothing is simple where super-teens are involved, but you and Peter can certainly handle whatever comes your way. Right?

***

Peter comes barreling down the hall yanking his mask over his head as he rambles quicker than you can warn him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I know I missed dinner, but man you would not believe the night I've had?! And of course most of it won't be reported because they're not like world ending, Avenger level threats just a bunch of losers bullying my neighborhoods? It's like they all decided to commit crime tonight or som-" he stops suddenly when he finally sees Bucky sitting next to you on the couch. "Mr. Bucky- I- didn't know you'd be here tonight. Hi." Peter says awkwardly. You take in Bucky's changing expression and then look back at Peter.

"Peter your dinner's on the counter." You say, clearing your throat.

"Right yeah thanks." Peter pivots into the kitchen.

"What the fuck?" Bucky turns to you.

"Take a breath." You warn.

"I'm breathing- but what the fuck?"

"I know this is a shock but there's no need to make it a big deal."

"Oh this is a huge deal, Peter when you're done heating up your food come have a seat." Bucky calls into the kitchen and you cringe to yourself.

"Peter when you're done heating up your food take it into your bedroom." You call and Bucky's head snaps towards you again.

"Are you serious?" Bucky blinks at you and for the first time ever it feels like you're on different sides of the fence, but you have to handle this in whatever way is best for Peter and right now that means putting yourself between him and Bucky.

"You and I will talk about this first because we are the adults and then if you still want to speak to Peter after, he can join us." You say calmly.

"He needs to be part of this discussion." Bucky says.

"No he needs to eat dinner and you very clearly need a moment before addressing him." You stand firm. You know if he talks to Peter first he'll go red in the face yelling at him and Peter doesn't deserve that, you don't even know if he'll be able to handle that reaction. Bucky blows out an angry breath through his nose and fixes you with a look that would probably make anyone else wither away but you hold his gaze unwavering until Peter shuffles down the hall with his dinner.

"How long have you known?" Bucky asks you once Peter's room door is closed.

"Technically speaking, since 2017." You say.

"Excuse you?" Bucky frowns.

"It actually caused one of the worst arguments I ever had with Tony, for involving him in that Sokovia Accords fight at the airport when the kid was like 15." You scoff.

"Sokov- so you're not his godmother and you didn't know his aunt?"

"I'm not his godmother technically no, he doesn't have one. Or I guess his aunt would've been his godmother? Sorry not the point- when Tony died I kind of took over as his 'Avenger adult' since Tony was sort of mentoring him, granted we butted heads on Tony's methods a lot before that so I guess it started before Tony died. I did know his aunt though, we became friends once I learned Peter was Spider-Man." You say.

"So were ever going to tell me that or was I just going to be left in the dark forever like a fool?" Bucky asks.

"Bucky you are not a fool, first of all. It's not like I kept it from you maliciously, it's just that this wasn't my secret to tell you. It was Peter's decision to make and I support whatever choices he would've made regarding who knows and who doesn't." You explain.

"But we are supposed to be a team."

"We are a team."

"You lied to me. Malicious or not, you hid this pertty big thing from me." He frowns.

"Bucky-"

"You told me you were taking in a friend's kid after she died." He cuts you off.

"Which is true." You say.

"You didn't tell me that kid was an Avenger. One of us."

"Well it's not like you were rushing to tell him your secrets either." You point out.

"That's different he's a kid we're responsible for, this is something I should know."

"When I first brought Peter here you explicitly said you wanted nothing to do with that responsibility. Even just being friendly with him was something you dreaded the very idea of. I respected that wish. You've started developing a relationship with him and that's great but excepting me to betray his trust because you suddenly want to be involved is unrealistic you have to see that." You sigh.

"What if he decided never to tell me?" Bucky crosses his arms.

"Well then he doesn't have to!"

"Seriously? That would've been okay with you?"

"Yes. Peter has made sacrifices that no child should have to make and I will not let you make him feel guilty because of them. You can be mad all you want, I understand it hurts to find out you were left out of something and that's valid but you're not about to yell at Peter, you're not even going to speak to Peter until you stop pointing fingers for something you have no idea about." You grit out.

"Explain it to me. How do you justify that you've kept this from me for years now?"

"You didn't want anything to do with Peter 3 months ago. Why would I go telling his secrets to someone who specifically said to leave them out of it?"

"But that's clearly changed." He rolls his eyes.

"And it's still Peter's secret. You know better than anyone, trust is earned. I can't decide for Peter when that risk is worth taking. He has to decide for himself that he's ready for you to know and maybe that day was never going to come. Yes we're taking care of him but he's not a child James. Spider-Man is his and it's already ruined his life once."

"Spider-Man ruined his life?" Bucky scoffs.

"After Tony died I- wasn't around as much as I maybe should've been for him, Peter ended up getting caught up with some guy who offered him guidance where he had none, but he turned out to be a super villain and tried to convince the world that Spider-Man, that Peter was dangerous, evil even. It spilled into his normal life because that guy revealed to the entire planet that Peter was Spider-Man, it affected his friends, his family, there were protests outside his school. He couldn't deal, he went to Strange, asked him to fix it, make the world forget he was Spider-Man but that went horribly wrong, got so outta hand, universes started colliding with each other, and Peter was facing villains he should have never even known about. Almost lost his friends, did lose his aunt, and the only solution Strange had was to make everyone across all universes forget Peter Parker ever existed. He went from mourning Tony, to mourning every relationship he's ever had. Either through death or the earasure of his existence from their memories. So excuse me if I'm not keen on forcing him to tell anyone, including you, a damn thing. Last time didn't go so great." You say.

"Oh-"

"He has been fighting adult battles, making grown up decisions, since he was 15. Being a hero robbed him of so much and I am doing everything in my power to give him something back. You will not make him feel bad for not sharing something that has caused him so much pain." It takes a lot to control the emotion threatening to make your voice shake as you speak.

"I didn't realize." Bucky says.

"I know. That's why I insisted we talk alone before you say anything to him. I know how you can but but this is much bigger than us just 'lying to you' for no reason." You say.

"Is there anything else regarding this that I'm missing?" He asks.

"Not really. It's not like you had memories of him to lose from all that's happened, I don't think you ever even met him as Peter, he disappeared in the snap same as you and after Tony died he went to London on a school trip and you were off dealing with that wannabe Steve so- yeah. Nothing really changed for you."

"But for you?"

"Nothing really. I- was maybe the only exception across universes for Strange's insane spells. It's why I took him in." You shrug.

"Oh wait- so when you said you went to yell at Strange a few weeks ago-"

"He altered reality at the whims of a teenager, he deserved way more than a yelling at." You nod. "Do you still want to talk to Peter?"

"Yeah- I'd like to." He nods.

"No yelling?" You verify.

"No yelling."

"Alright, I'll go get him." You nod walking down the hall to Peter's room. You knock on the door and wait for him to mutter come in before entering. "You almost done eating?"

"I'm done." Peter clears his throat.

"Bucky wants to talk to you." You tell him.

"Is he still mad?" Peter winces.

"No." You shake your head.

"He seemed pretty peeved earlier." He wrings his hands together nervously.

"He was, that's why I had you leave, so I  could handle it, which I did." You sit next to Peter on his bed.

"I don't- like it when you guys argue." He mumbles.

"Neither do I." You shrug.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" You frown.

"You were arguing because of me." He says and you shake your head immediately.

"We were arguing because Bucky and I are two adults with opinions, believe it or not we're not going to agree on everything all the time. Even though it doesn't happen often." You wave a hand dismissively.

"Yeah but- I heard you guys... it's my fault for-"

"Don't start. Bucky was mad he didn't know, sure, but you are not responsible for his feelings and he didn't know the circumstances. I wasn't going to have him yelling at you when you did nothing wrong, especially since I'm the one who decided we would keep it from him."

"But it's my secret, he shouldn't blame you for-"

"Peter, love, my job is to protect you, even if it's from Bucky. You let me worry about the big bad wolf. And please, for once in your life, stop trying to be the grown up. You've got two of us doing it just fine." You kiss the top of his head. "Let's go, I told Bucky all that went down and he's much calmer now, but if he starts yelling that conversation ends immediately. I'm not about to let him make you feel guilty." You tell him. Peter nods and the two of you return to the living room where Bucky's still sitting.

"Hey kid, have a seat." Bucky clears his throat when he sees you. Peter sits in the armchair and you sit next to Bucky.

"I'm sorry for not- telling you earlier about the Spider-Man thing." Peter says.

"It's fine kid. I get why you might be hesitant to spill. I've got my fair share of secrets that I wouldn't go telling just anyone. It was just a shock, but I want to be clear, I'm not mad. I mean I was at first but once y/n explained everything to me there was really no way to justify being angry with you."

"I just don't want to be the reason you two fight."

"Nah don't worry, this was nothing. As far as fights go, it barely counts, and you are not to blame. I'm just hotheaded sometimes." Bucky shrugs.

"So- everything's okay?" Peter asks.

"Yeah." Bucky nods.

"Everything's okay Peter." You say.

"Oh shit-" Bucky blinks.

"What?"

"The whole accords situation."

"Yeah when the whole world thought you killed King T'Chaka." You nod.

"Ye- thank you." He says flatly.

"What about it?"

"The fight at the airport, you said Tony brought Peter to that fight."

"Correct. I cussed him out for that."

"Circling back to that, I can't believe I didn't realize it before, he grabbed my arm, it was crazy- you have to be pulling punches when you fight, right Peter?" Bucky asks.

"Uh- yeah, usually. I- could easily kill someone if I'm not careful." Peter says.

"That's impressive." Bucky hums.

"Sorry, what did you not realize before? That he pulls his punches?" You ask.

"No. He was super talkative during that fight. He's been living here for almost a year and I never made that connection, I honestly should've figured it out within a couple of months if I was actually paying attention."

"I mean, your hypervigilance usually takes a back seat when you're here so it makes sense you didn't notice. Plus, that was almost a decade ago at this point, we've had much bigger fish to fry since then- it's easy to forget details like the sound of some kid's voice." You say.

"If it helps, I don't sound the same as I did when I was 15." Peter says. "Do I?" He asks you.

"Not exactly, no." You say with a chuckle.

"I mean yeah sure I just can't believe I missed it."

"Baby, it's not that deep." You kiss his cheek. "Peter and I are just great secret keepers." You wink at Peter who smiles.

"You and I both know my secret keeping puts yours to shame." Bucky scoffs yanking you over into his lap.

"If you guys are gonna get all lovey can I go back to my room?" Peter interrupts making you and Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to make it clear to you that I'm not angry with you. I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things." Bucky says.

"You know I've got you too Petey." You smile at him.

"Thanks guys. I appreciate it I swear but you're still in his lap and it makes me wanna leave." Peter says.

"You know one day Peter you'll love a girl so much you never want to let her go." Bucky says squeezing you tighter for emphasis. In any other circumstance you'd have giggled but you see the way Peter's shoulder's drop and your heart aches for him.

"Yeah, one day. I'm- gonna go play some video games." Peter says before disappearing down the hall.

"Was it just me or did his energy change?" Bucky frowns at you and you sigh.

"He had a girlfriend." You say.

"What?"

"Before Strange's spell that erased him from the memories of the whole world he had a girlfriend. And he loved her enouhg that he was willing to alter the very course of our world to see her happy. Still does."

"Man I'm an asshole." Bucky's head drops to your shoulder.

"You didn't know."

"Yeah but-"

"No buts. It was an easy mistake to make. We're all figuring things out as we go." You say.

"I should go talk to him."

"Sure." You say sliding over onto the couch so Bucky can stand.

"Don't worry doll I'll be back." He says kissing you cheek.

"I'll be here." You smile at him as he goes down the hall. It's a good thing Bucky knows everything now, but you clearly have quite a ways to go when it comes to Peter. You wonder if it'll ever get easier.

***

Tagged Users: @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @buchi91

[yelspyder]

˚‧⁺.-"I love you, brother..."

↳ summary: how the atsv characters would be as your big brother/sister

↳ characters: Miles Morales, Miguel O'Hara, Gwen Stacy

↳ Gn! Reader

↳ notes: idk, i just figured this out during my math class and had to write about it. it was a lot of fun writing this and, if everything goes well, I'm going to do a second part with Pavitr, Hobie and maybe even Peter B. Parker.

Miles Morales: the funny big bro

I see Miles as the kind of brother who would always be trying to entertain you. Like, he just got home from school and you're just watching some kid's cartoon on TV? Miles already has 'uno' ready to play. He would always be looking to improve the relationship between the two of you, so he always tries to provide as much fun as possible.

Love problems? Need some tips? He will be by your side in a second, just call him. Miles has absolutely no experience in romance, given how confused he feels himself, but he will be rooting for you the entire time. He could help you buy gifts for your crush and even give you some tips (dubious tips, due to his zero experience, but hey! he tried)

Miles is a very smart kid, too. If you get bad grades or ask for help with your homework/exam, he would be happy to help. It's amazing how he could teach you so easily, it's almost like magic. He would manage to make your study sessions fun and relaxed, and very efficient. He really has a way with kids.

Are you frustrated about something, or do you need someone to vent/cry to? He would 100% be your shoulder to lean on. If you are frustrated because you got poor grades, he would offer to help you study. But, if someone hurt you, Miles would automatically wrap you in a blanket, grab your favorite sweets and snacks, and sit next to you on the couch to watch your favorite movies to take your mind off things.

Miguel O'Hara: the overprotective brother

Miguel probably wouldn't be very present in your life, due to his many responsibilities, but he would make sure to keep you safe. He might not be able to spend a lot of time with you, but he would always listen to your complaints over dinner and make mental notes to work it out later.

You would have to beg him to play with you in case you want to spend time with him. And even then, he would be all the time with an expressionless face and would not know how to play. Poor boy, you'd have to explain the whole game to him, or else he'd just stand there. (he would never admit that he doesn't know how to play a child's game).

If you brought a boyfriend/girlfriend to introduce them, he would always have a threatening face. The moment you turned your back, he would pull you to a corner of the house and have a conversation (more like a threat) about your relationship. If it was a family dinner, Miguel wouldn't remove the threat face and would stare at them the whole time.

He might have a tech outfit and all, but he wouldn't know how to play video games. He would ask questions like: "Why invent such a difficult game? What's the fun in spending so much time on just one level?" "Miguel, this is minecraft. The game is not in levels..."

Gwen Stacy: the cool sis

She would never admit it, but to Gwen, you are the best thing that ever happened to her. She may be constantly switching bands, having no friends, but then she remembers you. You're like Gwen's partner in everything. Cooking, playing, and even doing her homework (you don't do anything, just have a relaxed conversation while she does her homework).

She wouldn't put it into words, but seeing your playful smile after coming home from a stressful day at school makes her so happy. She always tries to play with you in her spare time, and if you know how to ask nicely, she might even teach you to play drums like her!

Did you come in with a few scratches and crying because a kid hit you at school? She will be there the next day with you, and you can be sure that she has persuaded the principal to punish this child correctly and has a "talk" with this child's parents. After that, she would teach you the basics of self-defense and how to avoid these situations.

Gwen may have her anger issues, but she always makes sure not to take it out on you. If she got home frustrated she immediately goes to her room and locks herself up to save you from possible mean words. Now, if you were sad, she would be ready to hit someone, but she would also be a great listener if you wanted to blurt out.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

(likely a modern AU so the timeline fits)

Eddie feels so very, very torn about the Hobbit movies. He loves the music and hums "the Misty Mountains Cold" before he can catch himself, but he not very silently screams about all the crap that was added for no reason and, the bad CGI? A travesty, your honor! He glares at the screen when Legolas appears and utters "where the fuck did you come from?", he loves the casting choice for Bilbo but absolutely roasts the idiotic way that the screenwriters butchered Bilbo's relationship with the dwarves and the way it evolved.

But the thing he never forgives those movies for is that unbelievably idiotic love triangle and the way it made others tear up when Eddie's soul temporarily left his body to punch Peter Jackson. Because it DOES. NOT. MAKE. SENSE. There was no development. The flirting was bad, trust him, he knows what good flirting looks like and this ain't it. Eddie hates it with passion, especially the scene that overshadows the incredibly powerful one with Thorin's death. He is PISSED. The scene is so so SO lazy and Thrandúil did not deserve this disrespect. Shit, even the weird added ginger elf Tauriel did not deserve it. Yes, we're talking this scene:

Eddie mocks the shit out of this. He gobbles up all the memes and there is a 50/50 chance in the months after he saw the fateful scene that his contempt for it would bubble up.

"Hey Eddie," asks Steve whe he sees Eddie between moving boxes when they finally find an apartment together . "Why aren't you packing?"

And Eddie, instead of saying "I'm taking a break," clutches his chest and chokes out, "because it was real, Steve!"

When Eddie goes to buy groceries and Steve unpacks them, he notices that Eddie bought two bags of potatoes instead of one. "Why did you get two?" he asks.

Eddie rummages through his pockets and produces the receipt. "Because the discount was real!" he says with a mock sob and points at the potatoes being 30% off.

And Steve is a patient man, he really is, but when Eddie tells him that the claws were real as a response to his question why is Eddie all scratched from their cat and refuses to elaborate, he threatens that if it doesn't stop being real, he's going to get a set of the Hobbit movie posters for his side of the bedroom and proudly display them.

Eddie bitches, moans, threatens, but eventually he moves past the idiotic love triangle.

When they lie together, falling asleep, Eddie mutters into Steve's neck "I can't believe that stupid threat worked on me. Why would you even thing about something like that?"

Steve turns to him with a deadpan expression and says:

"Because it was real."

[carbuncle-paws]

I've made a pokemon AU for Peter :3 yaaaay! Doubt I'm the first to draw him as a sneasler but I'm not gonna let it stop me.

Some information!

Sneasler ♂ lv???

Dark / Poison Ability: Insomnia (might change this) Lonely nature + quick tempered Main Attacks: Slash, Lash Out, Dire Claw/Poison Jab, Hone Claws/Nasty Plot Lesser used: Bite/Crunch/Jaw Lock, Close Combat, Thief, Endure, Spite

Design notes:

Very tall (6'5'') and thin, even by species standards.

Completely hairless (and featherless) and by extension, no facial or feet markings. Torso and poison are discolored (both blue)

Ripped off both his forehead and chest gems, there are faint scars where they used to be. The one on his chest is covered by a gem you gave him.

Wears a hood made from a Mightyena's pelt.

The back of his claws (the blue part) is razor sharp, they're basically gigantic knives. If getting backhanded by them doesn't kill you, the poison probably will.

From a distance or in dark lighting, he can be easily mistaken as a human. He can also speak our language (just like meowth), his voice is raspy and a bit deep, perhaps from an injury.

The PeterAU x Reader story outline below, if you're interested!

Character/Story notes:

(OOOPS this sort of became a whole story teehee oh well. This is basically what my outlines look like but I probably won't make this into an actual fic. So, enjoy!)

He has no name, but wouldn't mind if you gave him one.

He grew up with a fascination for humans, and even learned to speak our language, but was betrayed by the ones he had trusted. He almost died, and was left hideously disfigured in the eyes of his species (furless/featherless and discolored). For a long time he hated all humans, and would murder any unfortunate enough to enter his territory. Until he met you.

He saves you from being eaten by a pack of Mightyenas, which goes against his usual hatred for your species. He stalks you through the mountain forests for a while, thinking that he'd gather reasons why you deserve to die so he can savor killing you himself.

Instead... he gets attached, and that infuriates him. From the shadows, completely unbeknownst to you, he helps you return to civilization. He looked forward to forgetting you, and going back to the worldview he's comfortable with.

But then you keep coming back to his territory, which is bad for two big reasons. He doesn't like the effect you have on him, and the area is dangerous... he doesn't want you getting hurt. So, without revealing himself, he tries multiple times to show you how his mountains are no place for a human. Nothing works. Ironically, he also does things to protect you from real threats.

His fleeting attachment for you grows into a burning obsession in time, and he wants so badly to interact with you. But not only is he a pokemon... he is also ugly.

One day he slips up, and you spot a glimpse of him through the trees, but it's too shaded and you mistake him for a person, and you call out to him. Instantly understanding what you've mistaken him for, he tentatively responds, but refuses to leave his hiding place. You figure he's just shy, but are happy to see another person who isn't afraid to visit these mountains, which have a horrible reputation. Probably because he's been killing people, but you don't know that. It's a shame, because you find it so beautiful up here...

Visiting him becomes routine for you. He says some really weird things, but the way he views the world is so unique and refreshing, and you form a fast friendship. He is very stubborn about remaining out of sight, but does start altering his appearance so he can stop worrying that the occasional glimpse you do get might give him away. He tailors a crude Mightyena hood for himself to obscure his face and ears.

He becomes desperate to spend more time with you, especially when you start talking about moving away someday soon, away from the town full of people who don't understand you. He wants to go with you... he wants to be your pokemon, but thinks you won't accept him as he is. His past with humans has him believing that trainers only value beautiful or strong pokemon. So he starts doing crazy things to prove his worth. Like, killing the strongest pokemon in the area, and leading you to its corpse to gauge your reaction. He hoped you'd be in awe and wonder what could've felled such a beast, and then he would reveal that it was him... but instead you were terrified, and sad for the dead pokemon.

It shakes him, makes him hate himself so much more. If a monster isn't what you want... then he'll just have to become human for you. He destroys the parts of himself that makes him different from you, starting by ripping off the gems on his chest and forehead. His claws will be next... but the pain and blood loss from just the gems is too much, and almost kills him. You find him while he's passed out, and although you don't recognize that he's who you've been speaking to, you rush him into town and save his life.

He wakes up in a pokemon center surrounded by strange humans, and freaks the fuck out. He wounds one of the nurses badly and would've killed someone he didn't hear you screaming at him to stop. The future he built up in his head, of either becoming your pokemon or close enough to a human that you might accept him, shatters in an instant. He runs, breaking out of the building and mindlessly fleeing into the mountains. You're shocked by his reaction, and something about the silhouette he makes as he escapes through the trees is familiar...

The people in the town know that he must be the monster that's been killing people, and at the same time, you realize that he's actually the boy from the mountains. Your dear friend. An armed mob storms into his territory intent on revenge, despite your protests. They locate his den and start a fire to smoke him out or kill him via burning or suffocation.

You had followed them, and when they start the fire you try to physically stop them. They're stronger though and throw you to the ground, yelling insults at you for defending such a loathsome creature. They kick you into the den so you can burn with him.

You hurry further inside but can't seem to find him... instead, he finds you. He lunges from the shadows behind you, not realizing who you are, pinning you to the ground and snarling in your face. He would have ripped your jugular out with his teeth if you hadn't wrapped your arms around him and hugged tight, instead of fighting him off like he expected. It confuses him and he thrashes to get away but you don't let go, and he slowly comes to his senses, realizing that it's you.

Why are you here, after everything he did? That he's done, his reputation as a people killer? You know who and what he is now, but you're still here and the way you hold him, whispering soothingly into his ear... Is this really happening or has he finally lost his mind? He breaks down and squeezes you back, sobbing into the neck he'd been seconds away from tearing his teeth into.

Smoke starts robbing his den of breathable air and brings the both of you out of the moment, forcing you to confront the situation at hand. You try to run back to the exit first, but it's engulfed in flames. He takes you further inside, to where he usually sleeps, and light shines through a crack in the rocks above. He pushes you up to it and you crawl out, but he's too big to follow and he urges to go without him. This is the fate he deserves.

But you refuse, and start tearing at the stone and dirt above the opening with your bare hands. It finally sinks in, seeing you desperately trying to save him, just how much you really care and maybe... maybe that means his life might be worth living after all. That he deserves another chance.

He joins your efforts and uses his claws to pry apart more of the stone. It takes a gargantuan effort, and he starts to pass out as the oxygen in his den dwindles. You grab onto his arm and pull with all of your strength, and against the odds are able to drag him out.

You're both exhausted and completely out of breath, but you drag him into another embrace anyways. You tell him to never ever sacrifice himself like that again, that he's so important to you and you'd be devastated to lose him. You ask him... if he would go with you, away from here, and although the strong emotions that overtake him have him choking up too much to respond with words, the way he holds you back is all the confirmation you need.

Together the two of you travel far, far away, going on an adventure that explores the best and worst that humankind has to offer, and form an unbreakable bond.

Aaaaand that's it! Sorry if it's pretty cheesy hahahaha it's just what my brain went for in the short amount of time I wrote this up. Again, probably not going to write an actual fic out of this (or at least I won't consider it until my current one is finished) but I had a lot of fun and it was a nice little break before delving back into Angels Fall. Hope you guys liked it too >w</

[giorno-plays-piano]

What the Forest Gave Me

Pairing: fae!Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: threat of noncon, some very soft yandere vibes, allusion to kidnapping, minor violence, sort of fluff.

Words: 1.8k

Summary: When you are making a wish by the silver pond, the fairy wood answers to you and sends a fae your way. But why aren't you welcoming him with open arms?

P.S. Just a short drabble with an angry insecure fae boy 👀

_____________

He hates the chase. Hates seeing your back as you run away from him like a wounded animal when he didn't as much as touch you. Why do you run? He did nothing to hurt you. You asked him to come, to embrace you, and he came.

And you ran.

His long, pointed fingers elongate further as he growls in frustration, leaving angry marks on the trees he clutches not to fall: the forest is his abode, but it loves innocent human women and guards those who ask for help like some sort of a fairytale dragon. Why are you doing this? Why making his home his enemy? He only did what you've asked of him. You called him, and he came, and you abandoned him that very minute.

Heartless human. They say fae are treacherous, but you are hardly different. You lied, didn't you? You didn't want a lover. You asked the forest to send you one, to give you a mate, but when the young fae stepped out of the woods in his shiny flower crown, his hands full of fruits and berries to appease you, you screamed and ran away. You want a lover, but you don't want him.

It makes him mad.

Abandoning sweet fairy fruit on the meadow, he bolted after you, confused, ashamed, and unhappy. What did he do wrong? Did he look hideous in that flower crown of his? Did you dislike the fruits he brought? Did you think him ugly, unlikable because of his face? His scrawny body? His too-long limbs? Perhaps he wasn't a beauty, but he was a fae. They all looked somewhat alike. Surely, you knew that! You came to a fairy forest and asked for a lover, clearly knowing it would be someone of his kind. If you wanted a human lover, you would choose one in a village nearby. No human lived in his abode.

So why the chase? Why the horrified expression? What was it that made him so unwanted in your eyes? Why did you need to hurt him when he only sought to make your wish come true?

Unfair. You are unfair. Wicked. Unworthy of the forest protection. You deserve to be punished for hurting him.

The moment he thinks of it, you cry out, falling and rolling down a hill: it's in fae's nature to create magic anywhere they go, and if they aren't careful, magic seeps out of their thoughts seamlessly. Your cries are muffled as you collapse under an old oak tree, your back hitting its mighty trunk with a thud, and you curl up into a ball, wailing from pain. Your arms and legs are bruised by branches and thorns, twigs in your hair, and you are trembling like a beaten dog, shielding yourself from him with your arms.

"Please don't hurt me", you plead in a weak voice, crying, blood slowly seeping out of the little cuts along your leg the way magic drips from the pointed tips of his fingers.

He didn't want to do it. He didn't, he swears in his head as if it matters. Yes, he thought you were cruel, but he didn't want to hurt you.

Or did he?

No, no, not like that, he didn't want you hurt and crying on the cold ground. He wants you to say you were wrong when you abandoned him the moment he stepped on a meadow, but he doesn't want to hear your moans of pain or see you trembling at the sight of him, afraid he would break you.

"Please, please don't hurt me", you shake badly, your face puffy from tears, hands still up to prevent him from hurting you more.

He feels rotten. He's not a vicious fae. He doesn't hunt human women for sport. Abusing you for abandoning him was a heartless thing to do, nonetheless.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, raising his hands up so you'd see he isn't going to struck you.

You shiver when you look at him through your fingers, still crying from pain, and he swears silently at himself. Nasty creature. Why did he do it to you? You are defenseless, almost bare in front of him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispers, the sight of you, miserable, forcing a lump in his throat.

When his hands start to shine, you let out a scream, afraid he would harm you again, but the soft glow he emits gently spreads to your cuts and bruises, and your body gets warm as he works his magic, closing broken skin. He isn't the vicious sort, no. He finds no pleasure in cries and pleading. He is just a forest fae, a creature born under the moonlight to nurture the soil and everything that grows out of it, a shepherd of the fairy woods. Perhaps he is a little tricky like all fae are, but he isn't malicious. It hurts him to see you cry.

Minutes pass, and soon your body looks flawless again, your skin smooth and unmarked, your tears drying out as you stare at him, unsure to either thank him or run out of fear. He wouldn't blame you if you preferred the latter, feeling sorry one careless thought brought you so much pain. Maybe you hurt him first, but he shouldn't have held it against you.

"I'm sorry," he repeats again, careful not to make any sudden movements. "You asked me to come, and I came. And you ran."

He hates the way it sounds. Like it is your fault you fell. Why did he say it? It didn't sound like that in his head.

"But I..." you struggle to find the right words, looking at him from the ground, still a little afraid, and the fae lowers himself right onto the pile of dry leaves. "I didn't call for anyone."

"But you made a wish."

Yes, you did. You wished for a lover. A mate. You asked the forest send him to you, and it did.

He watches you slowly assembling pieces of a puzzle, dumbstruck your wish was granted in a matter of seconds. But aren't you one of a fair folk, you ask, choosing your words carefully not to upset him, but he gets frustrated, nonetheless.

"So what?" He grunts, shaking his head, and his disheveled flower wreath, finally knocked over, is falling on his lap. "Didn't you want a fae lover? No human lives in the fairy wood."

You are perplexed: you didn't think the forest would listen to your plea. It was just a silly wish, a few careless words dropped in a wrong place, you say, embarrassed he heard you. You wanted a lover, but it was a wish in a well of sorts. You didn't think the forest would hear and send you your betrothed. You thought he was a fae guardian who came to punish a mortal for breaking the fairy grounds.

"Are you... him?" You whisper, hugging your knees, staring at him so intently he suddenly blushes, his eyes on his feet.

"Yes," he says quietly when just mere minutes ago he was ready to scream it into your face. But how could he now? You were innocent. You didn't hurt him on purpose, not even thinking he was your fated lover. Surely, if he were in a strange place, meeting a strange creature out of nowhere, he would be scared, too. How could he hold it against you?

But he would if you rejected him. And he was afraid to ask you again. He hurt you badly, didn't he? He hurt and scared you. Would you take him now? No fae law prohibited him from whisking you away from mortal realm, but he thought of you, curled up under the mighty oak like a wounded animal, pleading him not to hurt you, and he couldn't make himself go with it. He dreamed of making flower wreaths and swimming in the silver pond and collecting wolfberries together, not coming home to you terrified of the sight of him, scared of his touch.

You clear your throat, abashed, your gaze directed at your feet, "Isn't it prohibited? A human and a fairy?"

His cheeks heat up as he mumbles, "After a High Lord married a human girl ages ago, nobody cares anymore."

He tries not to get his hopes up too much, but he already dreams of kissing your hands when you feed him wolfberries, making you a dress from sirenspider's web and moonlight, and teaching you how to make a wreath for every season and occasion. Bluebells for witching hours in spring, bramble and violets for early summer nights, parsley and cowslip when sleeping on the meadows...

"You asked me to come, and I came," he whispers, looking up to find you watching him. "Will you take me?"

Your silence is suffocating, and it hurts, it hurts him so much to look at you and see you twisting the fabric of your dress in your hands as if you want to refuse him but don't know how.

"Promise not to hurt me," you say, tiny droplets of sweat forming on your forehead from fear.

"I swear to never hurt you again," the fae proclaims obediently, his eyes on his feet again.

Oh, it hurts, it hurts so much to hear the hesitation in your voice. It feels like there is a burning hole in his chest, and you are adding oil to fire.

You take so long to say more. He knows he shouldn't blame you, not when he made you a prey to his anger, chasing you like a rabbit he was going to put on a skewer, but he is angry and frustrated and spiteful again, rejected by his fated lover. If you don't take him, nobody would.

When he hears your voice, he almost jumps. "I... uh... you- you scare me a little. I know you didn't mean to, but... and you're a fae. And I... uh... can I think a little more?.." your voice quivers a little as you stare at the heap of old red and brownish leaves on the ground. "What does it even mean to be a fae's lover? Would it only last a season? Or would you... well... take me to be your own?"

Unlike you, it doesn't take him long to give you an answer.

He scoops you up in his arms fervently, his almost black hair a lovely chesnut brown again, the wreath shining back on his head, his pointed fingers no longer clawed. "I take you to be mine own!" He screams at the top of his voice as you tremble in his arms, bewildered, when he lifts you up in the air above his head. "I SWEAR I TAKE YOU TO BE MINE OWN!"

His chant makes his flower crown glow, and so does the autumn foliage of an old aok. You can't see your own body starting to emit the same golden glow, but you feel warm and light, staring at the orange sunset sky as the fae holds you for the whole forest to see.

You don't know it accepts young fairy's claim.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen

[marsmarauders]

marauders' patroni headcanons!

I'm sure this has been done a gazillion times, but I'm here to share my thoughts on what I think the marauders, valkyries, skittles, and co's patroni would've been! (I know that it's been said that Death Eaters can't cast Patroni, but I honestly think that's bologna).

(I also know that the patronus charm isn't technically in the Hogwarts' curriculum, but I honestly don't care).

Let's start with the canon Patroni!

James Potter: Prongs. (Stag).

Sirius Black: Padfoot. (Dog).

Remus Lupin: Prefers non-corporeal, but it's a wolf.

(You ever realize that James and Lily's patroni were super similar? (Duh) Well, you know who else has super similar looking patroni... Sirius and Remus. Just saying).

Peter Pettigrew: Wormtail. (Rat).

Lily Evans: Doe.

Severus Snape: I've always had the theory that his original patronus was a bat, and that it turned into a doe once Lily died.

Kingsley Shacklebolt: Lynx.

Now on to my headcanons! <3

Mary Macdonald: A dolphin! I think Mary is such a sweet, curious, extroverted witch, and a dolphin suits her perfectly!

Marlene McKinnon: Her's is 100% a lioness, you can't tell me otherwise.

Alice Fortescue/Longbottom: I think her's would be a horse! She has this graceful strength that I think is so admirable. (Obviously her bravery in the canon series is one of the big reasons for this).

Frank Longbottom: I've always seen his as a meerkat. Meerkats are super loyal and don't accept threats to those they love. They just scream 'Frank' to me!

Emmeline Vance: I believe her's in canon is non-corporeal, but I wanted to give her one anyways! I think hers would be an otter! They're just so excited and energetic, and that is how I see Emmeline.

Dorcas Meadowes: A fox! Foxes are super intuitive and ambitious, and Dorcas is just... what can I say, she's the ultimate girlboss.

Regulus Black: I know so many people think his is a cat, and while I can see that, I personally think his is a panther. (Still technically a cat!) A panther is a strong-willed animal would isn't afraid to stand up to anything.

(You may be wondering "that doesn't sound like Regulus at all," and you're right, it doesn't. It sounds more like Sirius. I did that on purpose. I think his happiest memory has to be him and Sirius when they were younger, and so I think his patronus manifests as a mix of him and Sirius.)

Barty Crouch Jr: His is a mongoose! Mongeese are extremely intelligent, and can be very friendly, however, they're also very unpredictable. They can represent impulsiveness and rebellion, which is just so Barty to me.

Evan Rosier: "Raccoons act out when held captive." Need I say more?

Pandora Rosier/Lovegood: I think Pandy's patronus is a swan! Swans are graceful and emotionally intelligent, and I think that suits sweet Pandora's personality perfectly!

Xenophilius Lovegood: I think his would be a chameleon. (Is this partially because of what he did when Luna was taken? And because chameleons represent easy and sudden change? Yeah, maybe a little but hear me out). Chameleons are able to easily adapt and change, and I think that sounds like Xenophilius. That's all! I hope you all have a wonderful day/afternoon/night, wherever you are! And let me know what your headcanons are!

[eccentricgrace]

Howl, Talk, Scream || IronDad

summary: tony rescues him, he does, he always will. but he's never quick enough, and this time-- someone has sewn his kid's lips shut.

tags: peter parker whump, hurt/comfort, mentions of kidnapping, protective tony stark, peter is okay!!

wc: 1953

⚠️tw: needles, sutures/stitches, gross medical stuff

cross-posted to wattpad by the same name!

Tony doesn't think this part of the job ever gets easier.

He gets used to most of it, see; the racing heart, the ache in his bones that never seems to go away, the threats he sees in very dark corner of a room. A rush of adrenaline that fades to crushing lungs. You'd think that was the biggest hurdle. Tony thought that would be the biggest hurdle, too, back in 2007, back when the sound of his phone going off had him choking in gulps of air between bile, back when the dark of his room after a nightmare would have him stop breathing all together.

Miraculously, he did get used to it, and then he got used to it all over again, but this time it was worse. It was worse because then Pepper's right there holding his hand after every nightmare, and Rhodey's visiting almost every day to bully him into taking his stupid SSRIs, and Happy's dropping by with some five dollar cheeseburger every other week "just because", and suddenly— suddenly he realizes. For the first time in his life, he has something worse to lose than himself.

Nobody ever comes out of a life like this without getting used to it. There's no other way to survive.

And yet. And yet.

Moments like these.

The part of the job that never gets easier.

The aftermath, of course. Tony's never prepared for the aftermath of it. He's never had to be, before all of this. He's had to take a stabilizing breath before entering a room before, but never because he was afraid to see—

Well.

The kid got himself into some hot water again. These days, this has proven to be the number one cause of Tony's tachycardiac increase. It was horrible, the whole process of it, like it always was— realizing he never made it home, scrambling to find him, praying when they found him he wouldn't be...

But they did find him, because Tony wouldn't let himself fail with something so colossally as important as keeping Peter Parker safe and be able to live with himself afterwards, the only issue is that he just— he just wasn't fast enough.

On a paper passed in the quinjet, he wrote in shaky writing:

they didn't like how much i talked

Peter's in the med bay, and he's bruised to high heavens, a wild look in his eyes that sets all the nurses on high alert. He hasn't spoken in hours. This doesn't mean he hasn't tried.

He clearly has tried, actually. Torn skin and dried blood coating the entire bottom half of his face, all the way down his neck. Tony feels sick at the thought.

"We just need to remove the stitches," the doctor says calmly. Gloved hands hold scissors in one, tweezers in the other. She stands a safe distance away. "Okay? Nod yes if you can understand me."

Peter— Peter's shaking. His eyes don't leave the doctor's hands, and his whole body is strung as tight as a bow. His fists clench.

"Peter," Tony's voice cracks. He clears his throat, avoiding his eyes. Takes another deep breath, and then summons all his courage to look his kid in the eyes. He's already looking back, holding so much trust and terror in his panicked gaze. 

Tony swallows thickly and shifts his chair closer. He'd been trying to give the doctors the space they need to fix this, to make it better where he couldn't, but he doesn't give a shit now. He can't, not when Peter's looking at him like that.

"We need to get those off your mouth," Tony says, wincing, because just the acknowledgement of the current situation feels so heavy. He feels like he's being crushed. "We need to know happened, if you're okay, we can't do that if you can't talk to us."

Peter looks like he wants to open his mouth. His lips twitch, but are firmly held in place by the shoddy sutures. He shudders, looks back at the doctor, then back at Tony.

The doctor takes a step forward, and immediately Peter's neck snaps back over to her. His breathing becomes frantic, his nostrils flaring to compensate for the lack of oxygen. A panicked series of muffled noises comes tumbling from his lips, and blood drips down his chin as the slight movement tears further at the stitched skin.

"Hey, woah," Tony stands up, putting himself between Peter and the doctor. She has already taken several steps back, her arms raised in the air, her expression soaked in guilt. "Okay, easy. Let's take it easy."

He turns to Peter, bending his knees to look at him better. Reflexively, a hand reaches for Peter's knee, and he pats it in comfort. "You're okay, right? I won't let anyone hurt you, I've got you now. I'm not letting you out of my sight. You can trust me, can't you? Breathe, kiddo."

Peter nods quickly, forcing himself to slow the breaths his nose was rushing to take. He blinks furiously, and tears trail down and wash lines of blood away. It's horrific. Tony wants to sit very quietly and cry for a very long time. He wants different blood to be on his hands.

"Mr. Stark," the doctor says meekly. "Might I suggest you remove the stitches instead? It should be fairly simple to remove, it doesn't look like they even did it properly..."

"Yes. Thank God for that," Tony grits out dangerously. He exhales shakily and looks back at his kid. "What do you say, kid? Can you nod, if that's alright with you?"

Peter looks at him for a long moment, his teary eyes glassy in the white lights of the medical bay. He slowly, cautiously, nods.

"Okay," Tony says. He takes a moment to solidify himself, his arms, his legs, all the parts that have been more or less liquid since he's carried Peter in here, since he's stopped carding a hand through his sweaty, blood-matter hair.

He locks away the wildness in his chest, the paternal beast that cringes and cries at the thought of touching Peter's wounds with his own hands, being the reason he winces, being the source of his pain if even for a moment.

Peter's trusting him. He keeps that running through him like saline on an IV drip. Peter's trusting him. He's in pain, he's trusting you to fix it, so fix it.

Tony pulls gloves on, takes the tools from the doctor. He approaches Peter carefully, and keeps his face neutral. He hopes it's more comforting than the look of a doctor who keeps glancing at clenched fists with sweat on her brow.

Peter's still shaking. Marvelously, he blinks a few times, and then closes his eyes tightly, and Tony feels his entire heart clench in his chest. It seems like such a simple thing. So, so, simple. But Tony's been on the other side of the room, watching needles or what have you with that kind of terror, and the last thing he could think of doing would be to sacrifice his most valuable sensory input.

Tony doesn't know how, doesn't know what he did to deserve this kind of innocent all-forward trust, but he looks at Peter, trembling in his fear, his eyes clenched shut and his chin jutted out, and Tony swears by everything holy that he'll protect it with his life.

"Do you want me to talk to you while I work?" Tony says quietly, sitting down in front of him.

Peter takes a second, and then nods.

"Okay." Tony steels his gaze, taking in the work. Fishing line, maybe, or something just as crude, sewn in one uneven, messy, tight line of stitches across his kid's bloodied lips. His stomach turns. "I'm gonna start on the left, your left, and I'm going to use tweezers, okay? You feel metal, that's just tweezers. Nothing sharp."

Peter nods once, just to show he understands, and goes still. Tony takes it as permission. He moves carefully, picking at the loosest bit of the stitch he can find, which ironically is a knot tied at the edge of his mouth. He pokes at it with the tweezers and Peter flinches.

"Just tweezers," Tony reminds him, keeping his voice level. It's a miracle he isn't shaking like a leaf. "Little cold, nothing scary."

He pulls it up a little, and grimaces at the sight of it, the whole grisly thing. "Alright, Peter, you're going to hear the scissors, but they're not anywhere near you. I just want you to hear the sound."

Tony waits for another nod, and then lifts the scissors up. He snips them once, twice, a few more times, until Peter's flinches become less as jolting.

"Are you okay?" Tony checks in. Peter nods.

"Okay, I'm going to snip the thread," Tony says. "It'll be just like last time. You won't feel anything. You're just gonna hear the scissors, remember? Do you want me to count down?"

Peter hesitates, and then shakes his head.

"Alright." Tony pulls back again at the stitch. He holds his breath, and then snips it with the scissors. With the knot gone, tension goes immediately lack, and Peter's shoulders drop.

"We're almost done," Tony cheers weakly. His eyes are misty, and it's so, so hard to keep the cracks out of his voice. He's trying. He's trying, for Peter. "Good boy. We're almost done. Few more snips. It'll be way easier now."

He tugs at the middle of the line, it easily becoming loose. Peter shivers, his face curling in displeasure.

"Yeah, I bet that doesn't feel good," Tony tries lightly. "Okay, you're gonna hear the scissors again."

He pulls up the line with the tweezers, and another snip. With that, he's able to pull half of the thread out of his goddamn mouth. Halfway there. Halfway. Blood trickles from the open wounds.

"Okay, other side now," Tony continues. There's a waver in his tone this time, sneaking out before he can calm it. "You okay still?"

Peter doesn't move. He keeps his jaw clenched and just breathes, and Tony remains still until he's ready. After a minute, Peter nods again.

Tony pulls at the other knot, and snips it, and then quickly pulls the thread completely out, and drops both the tweezers and the scissors to the side with a shaky breath of relief.

He blinks and he has an armful of teenager, Peter's arms wrapped around his waist so tightly Tony struggles to breathe in. Tony welcomes the feeling, just grateful that Peter is feeling strong enough to do so in the first place.

All the while, Tony's smoothing out his hair, he's petting at his back, squeezing his shoulders, saying, "I've got you. Jesus. Never again. You're okay. You're okay. We're okay."

Tears drip down his cheek, fine, he wasn't strong enough to keep them at bay. None of it matters anymore. The only thing that matters is the kid, and he's right here, and Tony's right here, and it's all going to be fine.

"I knew you'd save me," is the first thing Peter says, all blubbery and snot-covered all over Tony's nice shirt, and he really shouldn't be speaking yet at all. Blood is trickling from his mouth. His voice is very clearly hoarse.

"Of course," Tony repeats, over and over and over. "Always. Every time. Any time. God, kid."

Because yes, he'll save Peter for as long as he can still breathe. Longer, if he's able. He's done it countless times already.

It's always the hardest part of a job that matters the most, even if it never gets easier.

[hugs4lifesworld]

Never mind - Peter Parker x Stark! reader

Former relationship between peter and reader but it has been bad since Tony died. Reader is friends with Flash and met him before Peter from galas, charity things, and other events. In some ways he knows her better than anyone else. Very little of Peter.

"I can't believe you're really making me go." I grumble to Happy as he half drags, half guides me into the airport carrying my luggage given my refusal to even going on this trip. Happy having heard my complaints, bargaining, and weak threats the whole way continues to ignore me which he has done for the past half hour after simply arguing "Maybe this will be good for you." We make it to the large group of teenagers I call classmates where I am finally released only to be surrounded by my friends. As they chatter away I catch a glimpse of Happy speaking to the two teachers who are chaperoning before leaving. I roll my eyes and sit down beside Michelle knowing I won't get far if I even try to escape.

Before long the last member of the class comes and we go through to our gate. After that we board our plane. Out of habit I follow Flash to the first class area where we both have seats reserved, should we choose to use them. I laugh at him when the stewardess takes the drink from him when Michelle rats that he was blipped and therefore not 21. The two of us are instructed to sit with the rest of the class until after take off. We comply and I end up by Brad and Flash is a few rows back. In the seat across from me is Michelle with Betty beside her. The crew begins their safety demonstration and then we take off.

Flash and I decide to stay with the rest of the class for the time being and he sleeps while I continue the book I have been reading. Roughly half way into the flight I finish the book and am not tired. The cabin crew is also making rounds, checking on everyone so it would be pointless to even attempt to sleep. Looking around the cabin I catch Peter's eyes already looking at me, feelings I have been pushing down bubble and overwhelm me and I have to rip my eyes away. Sighing, I divert my gaze onto the screen in front of me so they don't gravitate back to Peter. 'Might as well' I think before grabbing the headphones and putting them on. I reach forward flicking on the screen and pushing the listening option. Scrolling through I find only audiobooks about The Avengers, some older books about Steve and one on the blip.

I simultaneously feel angry, annoyed, and get a lump in my throat and my eyes burn. Quickly switching to the in-flight movies I hope and pray that it's something different. I quickly find that they are different but this is worse, so much worse.

All I see are "documentaries" on my dad. My breath hitches and the more I scroll through the less I seem to be able to catch my breath. I am startled when I feel a hand on my arm and look to see it's Flash giving me a questioning look and I nod. I know he doesn't believe me but he, thankfully, lets it go for now. I switch the screen off, practically ripping the headphones off. Michelle looks over at me while Betty gasps "Y/n!" causing several members of our class including Brad, Ned, and Peter to look at me which I try my best to ignore.

Just then a stewardess walks by, "Excuse me." I say to the blonde woman who has an incredibly fake smile plastered on her face. I think I catch the end of an eye roll as she turns to me answering, "Yes, how can I help you?". "Do you happen to have any other movies?" I ask her hoping I don't have too much emotion in my voice. Because Ned, Flash, MJ, and Peter are all focused on me but I can tell I failed. "I'm afraid we don't, Miss. I'm sorry." she answers and goes to walk away "How about a book then?" I ask her. With a barely concealed sigh she answers "I'll check." and she leaves. She is back in a few minuets with 3 books. Glancing at the spines I read the titles. Once again they are about the Avengers and the blip, Steve, and my father. This time I don't bother to hide anything, with a heavy sigh and a seemingly exasperated tone I ask. "Do you have anything that's NOT about Tony Stark? A magazine, anything?" I stress. "No, Ma'-" I interrupt "Fine, a sleeping pill then?" I ask snapping at her trying to keep from crying. she scoffs and straitens wiping the fake grin from her plump red lips and narrowing her brown eyes at me. "What is your problem?" She questions me and I shoot back "I just don't want to read or listen to anything about Tony Stark!" I exclaim thankful the two teachers are sleeping and I easily ignore everyone else.

She gapes at me looking indignant "How dare you. Tony Stark was an amazing man who sacrificed everything." she practically yells at me. "Never mind." I huff out sitting back in my seat "I don't want to hear about it. Okay?" I tell her in a clipped tone.

"Tony Stark was the founder and leader of the Avengers! He housed S.H.E.I.L.D. He was an incredibly selfless man who died for the world." She raises her voice slightly becoming more frantic as she speaks. I only hold my tongue for a few moments before I burst. Jumping to my feet "Okay. First, he was not the founder of the Avengers. That was Nick Fury who came up with the original idea and Phil Coulson and Maria Hill helped execute said idea. Second, He was not the leader. Steve Rogers is," I pause "Was. Captain America was the leader. Tony did however pay for everything. Third, He never housed S.H.E.I.L.D, only gave former agents new jobs. Finally, He was an incredibly selfish man." I list off, finishing emotionally and scornfully before rushing away only barely taking notice of Flash angrily send her away to get the head steward and not come back.

Leaning on the sink I heave, trying to catch my breath and not let the sobs out but one escapes.

Then another...

And another.

Crap.

Next thing I know I'm in the hallway between coach and first class and Peter is kneeling in front of me telling me to breathe. The black at the edges of my vision slowly recedes and I can hear Flash shouting at who I assume is the head stewardess. I gather myself and push Peter away and stand. "I'm fine. You can go." I tell him making my way back to Flash and our seats to gather my things before he can say anything. "You and your staff should read the manifest." Flash states as I shoulder my bag. "I'm sorry, sir, but your friend was belligerent and Mr. Stark was a hero." She says trying to dismiss the issue. "If you had read the manifest you would have seen that Y/N Stark was on this flight. If anyone has the right to be selfish, it's her." He bites to her and snatches up his bag, I assume from the sound.

The last thing I hear before passing through the curtain to first class is "She is his daughter after all." and him stomping after me. Throwing ourselves in our new plush seats we sigh and Flash silently reaches over putting his hand on mine and we sit that way in silence for a while until he squeezes my hand. "What's going on in that head of yours?" He asks. My first response is a simple shrug but he gives me a look and I can't help sighing again, "I just still can't believe they made me come on this stupid trip." I tell him. "Maybe they thought it would be good for you." He tells me. "Yeah, right." I reply with a scoff.

"They get five years with him and I ... lost five. Sure, I'm not the only one in the world. No one else got blipped, came back, had to fight, and then watch their dad sacrifice himself." Feeling the tickle of the tears I angrily wipe my face and sniff before continuing, "Then I go home and find my dad married Pepper, which is great and I love her, she is the only mom I've ever known and on top of it I have a little sister." Flash just lets me rant. "Then, I have to go to work helping everyone else. I didn't even get to hug him or tell him I love him." I finally burst and Flash pulls me into a hug, holding me as I cry. Eventually succumbing to my emotions and exhaustion and falling asleep in one of my best friends arms.

A few hours later I'm lightly shaken awake by Flash so he can tell me we will be landing soon. I sit up staring at the floor before whispering "Thank you." to Flash who squeezes my shoulder as if to say "no problem" while holding out my make up bag out to me in the other. I raise an eyebrow at him and he simply said "Parker brought it.". I grab it with a huff and stand knowing I'm going to have to talk to him ... eventually. I make my way to the restroom I had previously tried to gain control in with a new determination but find the door locked. I stand and wait for only a few seconds before the door swings open to reveal Peter. Once he sees me his eyes widen and he slams the door. Okay I think and see Brad coming so I decide to try another restroom to fix my make up so when we land I will appear to be all together, just in case.

It only takes me about seven minuets to redo my makeup and make sure my hair is presentable. Once I finish that I go back to my seat, buckle my seat belt, and wait for the plane to land. "Your teachers want you to disembark the plane with the rest of your class." The head steward appears and instructs Flash and I and I simply roll my eyes while Flash gives a simple nod and she disappears.

"So, why are you pissed at Parker?" Flash asks as the plane slowly descends. "I'm not." I say. "That's bullshit and you know it." He shoots back. With a sigh I try again, "I'm not pissed at him. Why do you think that?". He gives me a look and answers "You two were good together. As much as I hate it. You were happy and now you'll barely even look at him." He points out. "We both have a lot of things to work out ... with my dad and stuff. You know the internship." I shrug. "So talk to him." "It's not that easy." I answer. He just looks at me as we land on the tarmac.

The plane finally comes to a stop and Flash and I join our class to disembark. Somehow I end up by Peter, MJ, Ned, and Betty. It is quickly revealed that Betty and Ned are dating. After a few awkward interactions between peter and I, the whole class exits the airport. With that our trip officially begins.

[earth-7103984]

Spindel Rodríguez - Spider-Woman of Earth-7103984.

Staring off with the first OC I created for this universe.

Spindel Rodríguez is the one and only spider of Earth-7103984. Born in Mexico City from a Mexican father and a swedish mother, her parents moved to New York City when she was just five years old. When Spindel was just ten years old, her mother was killed by a mugger. This caused Spindel to start taking self defense classes and, since he now had to do double the work to raise her, caused Spindel's father to take on a second job, just to support the two of them, while also causing them to barely see each other.

By age fifteen, while Spindel was out gathering bugs to feed her pet tarantula, she came across a strange type of spider she'd never seen before. Still, seeing as she's not scared of spiders, she didn't swat it off immediately, which gave the spider just enough time to bite her. After that, she immediately went home, dizzy and sweating. She didn't go to the doctor because... Well, shit's expensive. She didn't spend the best of nights. While she slept through the whole thing, it was a restless sleep. By the time she woke up, she was covered in cold sweat and... The sheets were sticking to her fingers. She panicked at first, but, as she experimented with her new abilities, she started getting a hold of her powers. The one and only person she told about what happened was her girlfriend, Gwen Stacy. While Gwen was unsure of what to think at first, Spindel already knew that she should put her powers to good use, saying that it's what her mother would want her to do.

At first, Spindel built some very crappy web shooters. The formula for the web was fine, but the whole mechanism left a lot to be desired, being quite bulky and failing more often than not. She was definitely not a technological genius. Her outfit was pretty simple as well, consisting of a ski mask with a webbed pattern and a pair of red tinted shades, along with a hoodie with a spider symbol on it.

During one of the times in which her we shooters decided to stop working mid-swing, she ended up crashing through the window of Pym Labs, more specifically the G.I.R.L. area of the building. Of course, an alarm rang out. Luckily, the first one to find her there was Nadia Van Dyne, The Unstoppable Wasp, so she was able to explain the situation and actually befriend the other girl. It was thanks to this that Nadia eventually offered to build her a new pair of web shooters, much more advanced, smaller and reliable than the ones she had. Not only would they be good for swinging, but for helping her in combat, too. And, as if the wasp's kindness hadn't been enough already, she got Spindel a brand new suit, too, which is the one she currently has. Her new friendship with Nadia would have her helping out with stuff at G.I.R.L. as well as with The Champions on occasion at Nadia's request.

From then on, Spindel would go on to keep fighting crime, stopping some common crooks, before eventually facing bigger threats, such as Kingpin, Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus, Venom and even Carnage.

Spindel tends to be aloof most of the time, having a bit of trouble opening up at first, but she's a genuinely sweet girl that cares about those she considers her friends. She does try to keep a much better and friendlier attitude towards strangers while dressed up as Spider-Woman, however. She doesn't have many friends, both in her hero and civilian life, but she deeply appreciates her friendships. While she's Spider-Woman she became close friends with Nadia Van Dyne and Kamala Khan, though she only knew the real identity of the first one, while neither one knew hers. At school, she's got a small group of friends consisting of Gwen, her girlfriend, MJ and Mayday Parker, the daughter of her science teacher, Peter Parker.

From a non in-universe origin, I created Spindel shortly after the release of Into the Spiderverse, when spidersonas were all the rage. I wanted to join in on the trend and did a few doodles, initially drawing her civilian look along with her home made outfit. I designed her current outfit like a day later. Her civilian look went through a few redesigns, eventually ending up with the current one you see in the pictures, drawn wonderfully by my main artist which will be credited below. I have a lot of love for Spindel and, I suppose, you could say she's the OC I spoil the most, getting the most art of her, while neglecting others, but it's understandable, seeing as she started it all.

Art commissioned from @Angelesrevill_ on Twitter.

[missr3n3]

Augusnippets Day 16

humiliation/dehumanization/conditioning

fandom: cabin tales (rotten roots AU) TW: home invasion, beatings, kidnapping, dehumanization, threats of torture, unreliable narrator word count: 560

@augusnippets

Everything happened so fast. One second, Peter was having breakfast mostly alone – save for several attempts to shoo Mittens away from his cereal.

Then, his front door opened, Mittens hissing at the intruders before Peter saw or heard them.

All hell broke loose.

Mittens, luckily, was off like a bullet – Peter could only hope he found a safe hiding spot. Peter bolted out of his chair, heading towards the kitchen – specifically, his knife block. He barely reached the doorway when he was tackled to the ground.

He should've listened to his father, should've gotten into sports. His frail limbs did nothing to defend himself from two pairs of fists and feet slamming into his body – hitting him, kicking him once he hit the ground, beating him.

By the time Peter was dragged into a van he only briefly caught a glimpse of, his whole body ached, burned, an eye was swollen shut, blood filled his mouth from a tooth knocked loose and dripped from a broken nose.

Within seconds of a heavy car door slamming shut behind Peter's bruised, limp body, his wrists were tied tight, and a rough sack was pulled over his head. Someone – a male, if the large size of his hands were anything to go by, pinned his bound hands above him. Someone much smaller sat on his torso. Cold air and ripping fabric told him all he needed to know.

“Look at it, squirming like a little maggot!” a feminine voice jeered above Peter, likely belonging to the captor who cut his shirt off.

“It's about the right color for a maggot after we kicked its teeth in, too,” added a masculine voice behind Peter. “And just as disgusting. You goddamn monster.”

“Save it for when we get to the manor,” a new voice chided – slightly further, probably the driver. It was feminine, but much lower, older than the person sitting on Peter. “You can let it all out during the initiation.”

“There's no rules against just talking,” the younger captor argued.

“Of course!” the male captor concurred. “Especially since there's so much planning to do! We’ve gotta make this one last longer than the previous initiation after all. Given what this shit-stain did.”

“Very true. We've got so many options, too.”

“Do tell.”

“I was thinking… maybe we start by cutting its fingers off.” Peter thought his heart would be merciful enough to stop at the younger captor’s words. “Oh! And then we can gouge its eyes out, since it doesn't deserve to see our newest member after what he did to her!”

What I did to…? What are they talking about!?

“I think the old man added a drill down there,” the male voice continued. “We could use that on its ears so it can't hear her.”

“I don't know… I think forcing it to hear its screams would be far more entertaining.” The younger captor sighed. “Maybe we save that for later, when it starts dying.”

Dying…?

One thought emerged in Peter's mind, a sliver of light he held to like a lifeline within the dark situation he found himself in.

At least they didn't have Sarah. Her sudden, unannounced work trip had become a blessing in disguise. Surely, she'd raise hell once she realized Peter was gone. Anyone would do so for their loved one.

[meirimerens]

hii, one quastion, I was wondering if you had any pieces of canon lore attached to your vision of Andrey (and Peter I guess too) as bisexual? I remember you talked about what parts of canon made you consider Dankovsky as gay, Burakh as gay, etc but what about Andrey my friend Andrey… Is there lore or is it just pure vibes (which is good too) SORRY if it's already been asked lol

hiiii okay i probally already talked about this but doesn't hurt to talk more we love to talk Ok the two crucial points for me are

his line "You do look like a hero - from the front. But what about the other end? Bend over." addressed at a man was written to be sexually forward [source]. while many men will use sexual forwardness/bluntness not through the lenses of desire but through those of power/threat, a heterosexual man will refrain from sexual forwardness towards another man as homosexual acts are still The Great Heterosexual Male Taboo and in the heterosexual male mind, degrading in itself. tldr i think he means it this time

design documents say of him "Based on Benvenuto Cellini" and while it is pretty hard to find a Renaissance artist who did not go to bed with at the very least the Leg Of Bicuriosity, Cellini was arrested and charged Multiple Times for sexual affairs with men. called a sodomite by another sculptor to his face and all. had to be there in those times. other things appear to link Cellini & Andrey, such as the killing of the brother's killer in an act of blood revenge (which Andrey doesn't canonically do, but that sounds enough like something he would do). but the "multiple times arrested for gaysexing" is a pretty hefty thing in that lore.

tldr I see it for real.

as for peter I think it's funny. andrey hammers your head with "he and i are perfect twins" & since it's not uncommon for multiple siblings to be gay or bi That's Funny to me. also because i like to explore how fundamentally alike & fundamentally different they are, both bi & both living their bisexualities in very different ways. in my mind's eye peter got that "oh he's... 😬 sensitive 😬....." treatment as a kid but discovered himself bi later in life. andrey has lived his bisexuality openly loudly and amorously for longer, having more (multiple at once) lovers. not really a bi thing he'd be like that if he were straight regardless; i just think it contrasts with the In My Mind's Eye of peter getting no bitches before age 29. peter tried to get laid Once and it went so bad they had to kill the guy. women don't really want to deal with him. andrey insisted he come to the all-male gatherings of the capital's students to mingle with Like-Minded Men If You Know What I Mean and he just stood in the corner like that one meme. sensitive white bi boy scaring the hoes at the club. etc