#he was able to talk to uncle Ben for just a few minutes

[cherrysnax]

I love Peter Parker right? kill him. Kill him to death. let him be dead fr there is no point in continuing his story if they’re just gonna disrespect his character like this over and over again

[flower1622]

The siblings were reunited in the living room.

Klaus: And i am the uncle... Claire adores...

Klaus stops talking and sees the little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that he always meets when he dies. She was leaning on the wall with her arms crossed, then she starts walking towards Klaus, who only backs away.

Klaus: How...can i see you?

Everyone was staring at Klaus confused.

Five: How can you see who, Klaus?

Klaus points to where the girl was.

Klaus: The little girl...

Luther gets close to Diego and whispers:

Do you think he is hallucinating?

Diego only answers, both still staring at Klaus confused and serious:

Have no ideia.

Klaus hits the wall and the little girl stops in front of him.

The little girl: You can see me because i allow you to see.

Klaus: I don't mean to be rude...but what exactly are you doing here?

The little girl: I thought that i could help you...

Klaus: Help me?

The little girl: Yes.

Klaus: With what?

The little girl: give your real lifes back.

Klaus: Really?

The little girl: Yes.

Klaus claps his hands and gives a big smile to the little girl.

Klaus: That's great!

The little girl: Don't celebrate yet.

Klaus' smile disappears.

Klaus: What...?

The little girl: I would need something in exchange.

Klaus: What exatcly...would you need?

The little girl: Easy...

The little girl gets closer to Klaus and stares at his face.

The little girl: Your soul!

The little girl gives a deviously smile to Klaus and her eyes turn red.

.......................................................................................

Klaus gets nervous and tries to walk away from the little girl.

Klaus: This was such a good meeting, but i don't think i can do this. I love my soul very much, thank you.

The little girl: Not even for your family...for Claire?

Klaus turns around and stares at the little girl, who walks and stops next to Klaus, looking at him serious.

The little girl: I could make your life more easy, take away your pain and fears. Give your ben back. Give your Five back...and Claire would still be alive.

Klaus looks around at his siblings and sees their pale faces and black circles around their eyes. They seem very tired and confused. Klaus stares at five. Klaus knows Five would do anything for his family. Klaus imagines how exhausting the little guy must be after trying to stop the Apocalypsis for a long time. Klaus just wanted to take that burden away from his brother.

The little girl: I could stop the Apocalypsis from happening. You only need to say yes. Five wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. He would be able to have a normal life with his siblings. You all could grow up together. Don't you want that?

Klaus's eyes start getting wet. He takes a last look at his family and then nods his head.

Klaus: Yes.

The little girl: Yes, what?

Klaus: You can possess me.

The little girl: Great.

The little girl's eyes turn red and stay thay way.

She gets close to Klaus, who only steps away and ends falling on the floor. He looks up at the little girl, who is over his body now.

Klaus: I thought you were...

The little girl: You thought wrong.

Klaus gets agitated.

Klaus: But...but...

The little girl: But that place you always appear? It's not heaven, you dumbass. It's an ilusion created by me.

Klaus starts getting scared.

Klaus: I don't understand...what...?

The little girl: What am i? I'm a dark angel...but i guess, in your world, you can call me a demon.

Klaus tries to back away pretty scared.

Klaus: No...no...stay away from me...

The little girl: Too late big boy. We already made a deal.

Suddenly a red light comes off the little girl's hands. She puts her hands over Klaus' belly and he screams very loud from pain. His siblings only stare at him, not knowing what to do and pretty scared to move or to touch him.

After a few minutes, Klaus stops screaming and stands up slowly from the floor. He looks around at the Academy and at the siblings. He has a weird expression on his face. It had an evil vibe. He looks at the fireplace and some of the fire flies to his direction and levitates on his hand, with Klaus controlling it with his hand.

His siblings were worried about him.

Five: Klaus, are you okay?

Klaus turns his head to look at five with a deviously smile, who flinches a little.

Klaus: Never felt better.

Klaus throws the fire back at the fireplace and the others also try to keep away from Klaus.

Klaus sits on the sofa and starts creating a big red energy ball that shows everything that happened in the past. With his arms open and relaxed on each side of his on the sofa, Klaus starts selecting which moments to attack. He chooses a scene where Five wants to test his powers. It's the same day he disappears. Five was telling Reginald Hargreeves he was ready. His father didn't believe him. Five got frustrated and teleported away. Before teleporting himself to the future, Klaus says:

You won't use your powers. You'll go back to the Academy and be a good brother to your siblings.

So, Five teleports himself back to the Academy and sits on his chair without saying anything and starts eating his food.

The five, who was seated on the other sofa, across from Klaus, looks at his brother totally shocked, just like the rest of his siblings.

Then, Klaus changes to another scene. It was the one where Reginald kills Ben, but before killing Ben, Klaus says:

You'll point this stupid gun at your head and you'll shoot yourself.

Reginald obeys Klaus and shoots himself. Ben turns around and calls desperate for help.

Klaus changes again to another scene where young Klaus was still being tortured with ghosts even after Reginald's death. Young Klaus was on his bed with his eyes shut tightly and his hands on his ears to not be disturbed by the sounds.

Klaus: You won't be scared of the ghosts anymore. You'll embrace your power and control it.

Then, young Klaus relaxes and takes his hands off his ears and falls in a deep sleep.

He changes to another scene where Vanya is insecure about herself and her powers and tries to keep herself away from her siblings.

Klaus: You won't fear your powers anymore. You'll control it. Your siblings love you. So, do never doubt yoursel anymore. Just be whatever you want to be. You don't need to do what other people say. Live your life. Spend time with your family. Ask help when you need it.

Klaus changes to another scene where the handler was searching for powerful kids. She was in her office taking a look at some papers.

Klaus: You'll get your gun and point it to your head and shoot it.

As if hypnotized, the handler gets an emotionless face and does what Klaus said.

The red energy fades. Suddenly a cocktail appears in Klaus' hand and he drinks it.

Klaus: See, that wasn't totally so difficult after all.

Then, the Academy starts being reformed, Lila starts disappearing and Ben starts turning into the old Ben.

Diego gets desperate seeing his wife disappearing, like everyone else was...they didn't understand how Klaus could be doing that. Many things were changing and Five was getting nervous, not knowing what to do or think.

Klaus only gives a dark smile while he watches Lila disappear and Diego crying in anguish.

Klaus: Relax, okay? In a few seconds, you won't even remember her anymore.

Everything changes completely. The Academy is back to what it was. The old Ben was back with his clothes. Luther didn't have a monkey body anymore. Klaus continues drinking his cocktail.

Five: Uh, guys? Did something happen? I feel like i'm missing something, but i don't know what it is.

Everyone nods and looks at each other, trying to guess what they were missing.

Klaus: What you are missing is a good time of fun. You are always stressed. Klaus feels lonely without his siblings.

The others only shake their heads at Klaus and laugh a little bit.Their mother enters in the living room.

Their mother: Hey, guys! I made cookies. Would you like some?

All the siblings nod their heads. Their mother walks away to go to the dining room and they follow. Klaus is the last one to follow. He turns around and sees Pogo leaned on the wall with his arms crossed staring at Klaus serious, who only gives him a dark laugh and shows his red eyes before following his siblings.

But inside Klaus' body, the real one was burning in flames and screaming for help.

Real Klaus: SOMEBODY, HELP ME! IT HURTS!

Lesson of the story:

For everything, there is always a consequence. Not all deals are good.

[noellie-writes217]

Unemployed and Uneducated

Summary: Peter is desperate for a job after months of living on his own

Warnings: none really, just a few mentions of loneliness and a lost relative

“Peter Parker?” A woman from the unemployment office calls into an overall dejected lobby. Peter looks up from holding his head in his hands as his knee bounces anxiously.

The same few thoughts flood his brain:

* I’m pathetic

* I can’t do this much longer

* I can’t do anything

* I need help

- Who the hell could I ask?

- I’m fucking alone!

- I couldn’t save May, who else can’t I save?

* I am so fucked in the head

- Lost everyone

1. First my parents

2. Ben

3. Tony

4. May

5. Everyone else, including my best friend, my doppelgängers, and of course, the love of my life

Man this shit is gonna give me a complex

* I am so depressed

- I should get medication

- I can’t afford medication

- That’s why I’m at a fucking unemployment agency

* And I’m back to being pathetic

“Here,” Peter pushes away all of those invasive thoughts for the next fifteen minutes in that woman’s office. She types his name into her computer and pushes her glasses up, as if that will change the astonishing lack of… anything.

Peter sits there, awkwardly, eyes darting around the room as if he has no clue about what she’s seeing— not seeing on that screen.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, “I think we’ll just have to “build your resume on print.” The red haired middle aged—Gina, Peter reads the name on the plaque on her desk— grabs a pen and some paper.

“So where did you graduate?”

“Oh, I uh… I had to, uh… dropout…?”

Gina nods and writes something down on the paper. She kinda reminds Peter of a glorified guidance counselor… but maybe a little meaner. “Look Peter, I’m not gonna lie to you, this isn’t looking good for you. Without a GED and a diploma shits gonna get real difficult. I seriously recommend you getting that GED. I can’t give you some entry level jobs to start until you get that degree.”

Now it’s Peter’s turn to nod.

“So tell me about what you like to do.”

‘Apparently, I like to self sabotage a lot.’ He filters himself so he doesn’t projectile word-vomit all over this stranger’s office.

“I wanted to be an engineer. I had my sights set on MIT before I had to drop out.”

———

Trying to think of a time before a traumatic event is extremely difficult. A victim of rape can be triggered by something that once was innocent, like a lemonade stand; a son who used to be pushed by his father on the football field might not be able to play football ever again after they stop talking to their father; a victim of domestic violence might not be able to respond to sudden movements from their partners the same way. And for all of those people, looking back on their memories before the abuse might be difficult to do with a totally unbiased opinion.

Something’s you never forget, like the way Aunt May felt in Peter’s arms just before she died. Or the words she spoke in those final moments, the same words his uncle Ben said when he died.

‘Nothing will ever be the same.’

Peter can’t afford flowers for May’s grave, but he still visits her grave three times a week on average, no less than two in that span.

And that’s where he is right now. Sitting across from her grave stone with his journal between the hedge and him.

“So I’m still looking for a job, and I haven’t really had time to make friends, but it’ll get better soon…” as soon as he feels a tear fall down his right cheek, he sniffles, blinks. And uses his sleeve to wipe it all away.

“Good God, May. Why didn’t you tell me it’d be so hard to make it on my own?” He chuckled somberly, the same way anyone would when they were trying to hide their emotions.

“I don’t want to keep going.” He cries. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice says from behind him. “She’d want you to.”

It’s Happy.

Peter closes the journal and stands up as fast as possible for him.

“Sorry,” Happy starts, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Peter hides his face and can’t even bring himself to self to glance at Happy even by accident, “No no, don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I should probably leave anyways.” He starts to step away but Happy takes hold of his jacket sleeve.

“Wait, let me take you to get something to eat,” He smiles, “please. My treat.

Tom takes a moment to consider the offer. The most surprising thing about his moment of hesitation is the fact that he thought about saying no.

“Why would you want to take a stranger out to eat?” He asks.

“I don’t know. You just remind me of someone that I can’t quite place.”

Peter smiles with a glint of hope in his eyes.

— — —

“So,” Happy starts as Peter munches on his cheeseburger, “what’s a young kid like you doing visiting someone’s grave instead of going to school?”

Peter puts down the burger, “I had to drop out actually.” Happy leans back on the booth bench.

“It’s not drugs or anything,” Peter reassures the older man, “I just don’t have the money for anything and I need to earn money for rent.”

“So was May helping you with that before she died?” Happy asks.

Peter debates being forthcoming about his past, but decides against it because he doesn’t have the strength anymore. He lost that at the Statue of Liberty.

“Yeah. My parents died and she always managed to find someway to help me.” Peter smiled.

“I was her boyfriend,” Happy begins, “she never mentioned you. Peter, are you hiding something?” Peter gets a l little nervous.

“I went to the soup kitchen after school. She helped so many that she probably had no idea the effect she had on me.” He covers his ass.

Happy is still suspicious but doesn’t push. “Well, Peter, you seem like a good kid. I’m sure everything will work out eventually.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hogan.”

“So where’s the first place on your list?” He asks.

“What?”

“You said you’re looking for a job, tell me where you’re looking and I can give you a ride.”

“Stormy’s Autobody.”

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

I'm still figuring out Tumblr (I've read stuff on it for years, but now I'm trying to be active in groups to give encouragement to writers, old and new and build community), but I hope this is the right place to ask a tiny fic prompt.

It's raining here in Georgia and is too cold for November. Could you write a fic on the prompt:

All three Peters had frowned at the rain all morning which turned many tall buildings too slick to cast proper webs, but Peter 1 looked out the window with a face that held dismay, longing, and despair. It almost hurt to look at him.

(I know it's too long, but the language lover in me can't stop painting pictures.)

Rainy Day

Summary: See prompt above :)

(Here ya go @victorianchiks-blog ❤�� I hope you enjoy! This was a fun prompt to get to do, and your descriptions were perfectly fine and beautiful 😁 that's from one language lover to another ;))

Peter 2 sat next to his younger brother. "Hey Pete, is everything okay?"

Peter 1 shook his head.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Another head shake.

"Just want to sit and watch the rain?"

A small nod.

"Okay, can I join you?"

Another small nod.

Peter 2 snuggled closer to the youngest and rested his chin on his crossed arms. Together, they watched the rain soak the ground and pound against the surrounding buildings. For a moment, everything was quiet in the Spiderman house.

Two's eyes trailed up to the top of the window they were looking out. He watched two rain drops trail down the window and debated which one would reach the bottom first. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

He watched two more sets of raindrops trickle down before he was able to tell quickly which one would reach the bottom first. As he watched, a memory played in his head of himself and his Uncle Ben on a similar rainy day.

Look at the drops Peter. They're racing each other all the way down.

Which one is faster Uncle Ben?

Well, I don't know to tell you the truth. Sometimes you have to watch a few before you can figure that out.

I bet that one will be faster this time.

Looks like you were right Pete. Say, why don't we play a little game?

The oldest Peter grinned before nudging the youngest. "Hey Pete? Wanna play a game?"

One gave him a quizzical look.

"See how the water droplets race each other down?"

Peter 1 nodded.

"Well, why don't we race? You get one and I get one and whichever one reaches the bottom first wins."

". . . What happens if you win?" Peter 1 asked softly.

"Well, Uncle Ben and I used to do different things when we raced, but I had a favorite I liked to do."

"What was that?"

"A tickle minute."

The youngest's eyes widened.

"If you win, you get to tickle me for a minute. If I win, I get to tickle you for a minute."

Peter 1 squeaked.

Peter 2 chuckled. He nudged his youngest brother's arm. "What do you say? Wanna play?"

The youngest Peter was quiet. He watched the raindrops run down the window.

"Your choice Pete. We can always do something different," Two replied.

Peter 1 looked between Two and the window pane. He hesitated a moment before he nodded. "Let's do it."

"Ohokay. There's two now, you pick first."

Peter 1 pointed to one on the left. "That one."

"Alright, let's see who wins."

The two Peters watched the raindrops slide down the window pane.

"Come on raindrop," Two cheered.

"They're close. But I think mine is pulling ahead."

"Don't be so sure."

When it looked like One's raindrop would pull ahead, it suddenly veered off to the side and Two's raindrop managed to reach the bottom first.

"Ah man," One mumbled.

"Better luck next time," the oldest Peter replied before he nuzzled his face into Peter 1's neck.

"Ahaha! Hehey!"

"Tickle tickle tickle!"

"Jeherk!"

"Ihi won fair and square Pete." Two gently pulled him to his side. "Now I get to tickle you."

Peter 1 squealed as he was attacked by his older brother. While he was being tickled, the biggest grin appeared on his face. He looked happier now than he had all afternoon.

Once the minute was up, Two pulled away and let the youngest breathe. "Hohow was that?"

"Ihit was fuhun." Peter 1 looked back at Peter 2. "Cahan we doho it again?"

"Absolutely. I think I see the next two now."

"Yohou pihick this tihime."

"Alright, the one on the left is mine."

"Okay!"

The two encouraged their raindrops, but, in the end, Peter 1 managed to win the second round.

"Yes!" One's fingers scribbled into Peter 2's sides. "Myhy turn!"

Two squeaked. "Awhaw, no fahair!"

"Hey, I won fair and square this time!"

For the rest of the morning, the two Peters went back and forth racing more raindrops. Peter 2 managed to win most of the races, but Peter 1 had a few victories too. During one race, both raindrops reached the bottom at the same time.

Peter 2 grabbed Peter 1 and started tickling him first.

"Ahh! Whahat ahare yohou dohoing! Thehey bohoth wohon!"

"I knohow, but I'm the oldest. So I'm tickling yohou first."

"Noho way!" Peter 1 got an arm free and aimed for Two's ribs. "Ihi'm gehetting yohou!"

Two squeaked and loosened his grip, but he was determined not to go down without a fight. He immediately went for One's underarm.

The youngest squealed and slammed his arm down. With one arm trapped, he used his other free hand to reach around Peter 2 and squeeze his shoulder blades.

The oldest Peter yelped and squirmed away from One's hand. Suddenly, both brothers tipped sideways. While trying to get away from One's hand, Peter 2 had pushed himself to the side. However, with no way of catching his balance, Peter 2 tipped both of them all the way over.

Both brothers landed in a giggly heap on the floor.

"Wohow! Yohou alright?" Two asked.

"Ihi'm okay. Ahare yohou ohokay?"

"Yehes."

Peter 1 grinned and curled into his older brother's chest. "Thahank you."

Two returned the hug. "You're welcome Pete. That was a lot of fun."

"Cahan we do it again sometime?"

"Absolutely, but I think we need a break for now." He poked his younger brother's back. "Why don't we go make some lunch?"

The youngest sat upright and looked at the nearest clock. "It's the afternoon already?"

"Yeah Pete, time flies when you're having fun." Two sat upright. "What should we make?"

"Can we make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

Two smiled. "That sounds like a great idea. I think we have some tomato soup to go with it too."

A moment later, the two hurried into the kitchen to get started on their meal. While the tickle session hadn't completely removed the gloom outside, it had made it more bearable for two out of three who were trapped inside.

And sometimes, that's all you needed.

[djino04]

Fireworks 2

Prompt from @penflicks :  Prompting you a follow up to this: There's a fireworks display at some event they have to attend and Andreas pretends to break his ankle to get him and Saul out of there. It takes three hours for Saul to realised Andreas was lying and his ankle is absolutely fine, and that Andreas did this to preserve Saul's dignity

POV Saul

I sigh as I put away the training swords. It will soon be time for me to go home and get ready. Queen Luna has a charity event coming up and she absolutely wants Farah, Andreas, and I to go and represent the school. I hate these kinds of parties where you have to put on a suit and tie and act like a hypocrite with the donors who fund Alfea. Every year it's the same thing and every year Farah and I have to go as the headmasters. But now there are three of us since Andreas and I share the leadership of the specialists and Luna wants all three of us to be there. Farah agreed to it without even talking to us since it's always been that way. But this year there is a little difference. This year, there will be fireworks at the end of the evening... 

I still shudder at the memories of the last one. Every blast took me back to the moment I had to pull the trigger in that forest to put my father out of his misery. I thought I could handle the noise for the kids and I was sorely mistaken. And the worst part was not the night itself, but the following nights. I had nightmares for weeks, reliving that moment again and again. Only the presence of Andreas could bring me out of the flashbacks. I don't want to go through that again and I don't want to put my partner through those nights. 

And yet, I won't have a choice. I can't risk school funding for a little scare like this. I am a specialist, not a child. I can hardly call Luna and tell her I'm declining her invitation because I'm afraid of the sound of fireworks.

Maybe I can find an excuse for us to room together with Andreas until the nightmares subside. I know it will undoubtedly be even harder for me, but at least he'll be able to sleep without being woken up by screams and then kept awake for hours because I'm unable to calm myself down enough to go back to sleep. 

With those thoughts, I shuffle to the apartment and frown as I hear voices through the door. I open the door and step inside. I'm surprised to see no one in the living room, but I can distinctly hear Sky and Andreas' voices in our bedroom. I quickly make my way there and the anxiety of the evening is quickly forgotten when I see my lover lying on the bed, his foot bandaged, covered with an ice bag and raised. I immediately ask: 

"What happened?"

I walk over to them and quickly scan Andreas' body for other injuries as he replies: 

"Nothing serious, I just twisted my ankle when I tried to show Sky a move, that's all."

I sigh with relief as I sit next to him on the bed. If that's all it is, I'll be fine. But Sky crosses his arms over his chest: 

"He refuses to let me ask Terra or Uncle Ben to come in and check his ankle."

I give Andreas an unimpressed look and he shrugs: 

"I'm fine love, I just twisted my ankle. And you know as well as I do that he won't be able to do anything more than put ice on it. We'll see in the morning if there's a need to go to the greenhouse or not."

"You better go if you have any pain in the morning. I'll carry you there if I have to."

And he knows I can do it even though he's heavier than me. I've done it in the past and I'll do it again if there's a need. He doesn't answer me but Sky breaks the silence again after a few seconds: 

"Isn't tonight the night in Solaria? You'll have a hard time going."

I had managed to forget about Solaria for a few minutes but I guess I will have to go without Andreas. And just like that, I just lost a valuable support and the evening seems even darker than before. I have a gut feeling again as I start to get up, it's about time I get ready. I feel like I'm going to the scaffold rather than to a party. Except that Andreas grabs my arm to prevent me from walking away and he replies: 

"Yes it's tonight but I've already texted Luna to explain the situation. And I've also told Farah. So we're both excused from dressing as penguins."

I look at him skeptically: 

"Is the queen really okay with the two of us not going?"

"Of course, I have to stay up tonight and I need someone to help me here, doctor's orders."

"You haven't seen a doctor yet Andy."

"But she doesn't know that."

He gives me a big, proud smile. And he pulls me in so I'm lying against him, I let myself do it even though I'm still not used to being so demonstrative in front of someone else. But it doesn't seem to bother Sky so much, talking about him, Andreas asks him: 

"How about you go get your sister, the four of us have a family sleepover."

Sky leaves muttering something that sounds like "she's not my sister." but I'm not sure. For my part, I melt a little more into Andreas's embrace, and although I'm more than happy for the opportunity to stay here as a family and avoid the damn fireworks, I can't let Farah go by herself. This is what I tell Andreas: 

"It's not fair to let Farah represent the school alone. It happened once before that I went without her and after that disaster we promised each other that we would always go together. They are sharks and we need to go as a team to survive this kind of event. I have to go with her but you stay here and rest."

I try to act like nothing happened as I pull out my phone with a slightly shaky hand but Andreas takes it out of my hand. I immediately protest: 

"Hey."

"Relax love, I already took care of it. Ben has agreed to go with her this time. I think he wants to see a teacher who worked at the school he went to last year again. You don't want to risk ruining our dear Harvey's love life, do you?"

Ben in love again? He hasn't been interested in anyone since Rose died, but I'm happy for him. I just wish he'd told me about it, normally I'm the one who knows these kinds of secrets, not Andreas. But I'm not going to complain since it's the perfect excuse not to go tonight and replace the torture night with a family sleepover. 

I relax immediately, the lump in my stomach magically disappearing. I'm sorry Andreas got hurt, but I'm so glad I don't have to go, that I don't have to relive the same anxious nights, that I don't have to see my father's death over and over again every time I close my eyes. So I smile sincerely for the first time in days and gently come over and kiss the man I love before answering: 

"No, I guess you should never get between a fairy and her love. And then I have to watch that you don't overdo it."

It only takes a few more minutes for the children to arrive. The four of us end up lying in bed laughing while watching movies. And while I snuggle a little more with Andreas when muffled bangs come through the window and shutters, no one says anything. My companion turns up the volume on the TV at this point and I silently thank him with a look. I know he knows what fireworks do to me. We've never talked about it but it didn't take that for him to understand me. It has always been like that between us, there are rarely long discussions, a simple exchange of glances is enough to understand the other. Sometimes I feel like I have some kind of bond with him, like I have with Farah, but I know that it's impossible.

The evening is spent quietly laughing, chatting, eating pizza and popcorn. And the two teenagers end up falling asleep in our bed. I get up and raise Beatrix in my arms before whispering to Andreas: 

"I'll be back for Sky."

Except to my astonishment, seconds later, Andreas appears in the doorway of Sky's childhood bedroom with the teenager in his arms. And he's walking like he's never been hurt. And I understand then that his ankle is perfectly fine, that he has no pain, that he never twisted it and that he pretended for me, to protect me. He knew I couldn't say no but I couldn't handle it either so he took matters into his own hands. Because we always protected each other. 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

APPARENTLY OUR SITUATION WAS NOT UNUSUAL

Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can, because you haven't hired any bureaucrats yet. Sites of this type will get their attention. The fact that there's no conventional number. Don't fix Windows, because the remaining. And what drives them both is the number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, this means 200 additional shares. This is not as selfish as it sounds. For the average startup fails. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to depend on it happening. Seeing the system in use by real users—people they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas is practically virgin territory.

Auto-retrieving spam filters would make the legislator who introduced the bill famous. When someone's working on a problem where their success can be measured, you win. I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and sitting in a cafe feels different from working. However, the easiest and cheapest way for them to do it gets you halfway there. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English. We'd ask why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python, the claim of the Python hackers seems to be as big as possible wants to attract everyone. Conditionals. Poetry is as much music as text, so you start to doubt yourself. Between them, these two facts are literally a recipe for exponential growth. In languages, as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it. I fly over the Valley: somehow you can sense something is going on.

It's easy to be drawn into imitating flaws, because they're trying to ignore you out of existence. Google. Long words for the first time should be the ideas expressed there. If a link is just an empty rant, editors will sometimes kill it even if it's on topic in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can bear the risk of failure. I'm less American than I seem. The distinction between expressions and statements. So perhaps the best solution is to add a few more checks on public companies. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be true that only 1.

Well, I said a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on a Python project than you could to work on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to bite off some subset of the problem. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have if you can't raise the full amount. And isn't popularity to some extent its own justification? I realize I might seem to be any less committed to the business. Surely that's mere prudence? The measurement of performance will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. Number 6 is starting to have a piratical gleam in their eye. About a year after we started Y Combinator that the most important skills founders need to learn. When the company goes public, the SEC will carefully study all prior issuances of stock by the company and demand that it take immediate action to cure any past violations of securities laws. Within a few decades old, and rapidly evolving. I didn't say so, but I'm British by birth. Investors tend to resist committing except to the extent you can.

I'm talking to companies we fund? But if we can decide in 20 minutes, should it take anyone longer than a couple days when he presented to investors at Demo Day, the more demanding the application, the more demanding the application, the more extroverted of the two founders did most of the holes are. We funded them because we liked the founders so much. And such random factors will increasingly be able to brag that he was an investor. You'd feel like an idiot using pen instead of write in a different language than they'd use if they were expressed that way. The safest plan for him personally is to stick close to the margin of failure, and the time preparing for it beforehand and thinking about it afterward. The theory is that minor forms of bad behavior encourage worse ones: that a neighborhood with lots of graffiti and broken windows becomes one where robberies occur. S s: n. Bootstrapping Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all, it means you don't need them.

It's not just that you can't judge ideas till you're an expert in a field. And the way to do it gets you halfway there. Angels who only invest occasionally may not themselves know what terms they want. But the raison d'etre of all these institutions has been the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period. If someone pays $20,000 from their friend's rich uncle, who they give 5% of the company they take is artificially low. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot on marketing, or build some kind of announcer. There are millions of small businesses in America, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with. We present to him what has to be treated as a threat to a company's survival. S i; return s;; This falls short of the spec because it only works for integers. He said their business model was crap.

I was a philosophy major. Programs often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. And I was a philosophy major. This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley is watching them. I definitely didn't prefer it when the grass was long after a week of rain. As many people have noted, one of the questions we pay most attention to when judging applications. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take to become profitable. Raising money is the better choice, because new technology is usually more valuable now than later. The purpose of the committee is presumably to ensure that is to create a successful company?

One recently told me that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. If you look at these languages in order, Java, and Visual Basic—it is not so frivolous as it sounds, however. VCs they have introductions to. VCs ask, just point out that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for any firm you talk to. The lower your costs, the more demanding the application, the more important it is to sell something to you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you have. What happens in that shower?

Thanks to Dan Bloomberg, Trevor Blackwell, Garry Tan, Nikhil Pandit, Reid Hoffman, Geoff Ralston, Slava Akhmechet, Paul Buchheit, Ben Horowitz, and Greg McAdoo for the lulz.

[landothemuppet]

Far Longer Than Forever (p.p)

Word count: 4737

Pairing : peter parker

Request: YES! ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. The Swan Princess is one of my childhood movie and this was so fun to write. I can’t stop listenning the soundtrack now ! I’m so sorry for the time i took to write this, i had so much work to do with school. But it’s over now and i hope you will like this ! 

N/A:  First, gif not mine but i don’t know who i’m gonna credit on this, i have no clue...This is my first Peter Parker x reader and i hope you all will like it! As always, I remind you that English is not my native language. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Like, reblogs to support. You can Love you all! xx

Taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp​ - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here

______

As far as you can remember, you've always hated summer. Well, it was partly a lie. You loved the sweltering heat of Queens, the cherry popsicles from Delmar's, not having to worry about what time you had to get up. You liked it but hated the idea of ​​the last two weeks of August.

 This year was no exception. You looked at your half-finished suitcase, a grimace on your face. August still meant the same thing, the same routine: having to spend the last three weeks of his vacation with Peter Parker.

summer 2009

Peter Parker had lost his parents very early on, two years ago. He had lived since then with his aunt May and his uncle Ben. It was your mother's idea to introduce you to each other. Aunt May and your mom were friends from college and luckily, they lived in the same neighborhood. Your first meeting with the one who, many years later, would become Spider-Man, took place on his eighth birthday. You were invited to the party when you weren't even at the same school. Aunt May had simply shared his fears about Peter's difficulty making friends after the trauma he had experienced. Your mother, as the perfect friend that she was, had suggested that Peter and you spend time together.

 There were 3 kids in total at that birthday party, you, Peter - obviously - and a boy from his school whose mother had forced him to be there, too. It was a fact; you were the only girl and you didn't know Peter at all. Your mother walked up to you, got up to your eye level and whispered

 "Can you be nice? May told me she invited Peter's whole class and only this boy came"

 You wanted to please your mother so you nodded before approaching the two boys. Peter and his friend were in the corner of the room, their backs turned to the adults. When you tapping the young boy on the shoulder to make you notice by him, he turned to you with a guilty expression. He had buttercream all over the corner of his mouth and he was holding a cupcake in his hand that looked delicious.

 “My Aunt May tried to bake a cake, but Uncle Ben bought some cupcakes in anticipation. Do you want one?” Peter asked you in a friendly voice

“Why? Is May's cake not good?

“Uncle Ben says that she is not very good at cooking.”

 You let out a little laugh and nodded your head before grabbing the cupcake with a smile. You thanked him and began to taste the little pastry with envy. It was so good! The buttercream was lemony, the cupcake was slightly lemony too but there was a taste you couldn't recognize. You were almost sure you had tasted it before, but you couldn't tell what it was. Peter and the other boy suggested that you go to Peter's room. He wanted to show you the LEGO set his uncle Ben had given him ahead of time and you followed them even though you weren't more excited about the idea.

 And you were right. For several minutes, you were pushed aside while the two young boys spoke spiritedly. You complained several times that you wanted to do something else but Peter didn't seem to listen to you, too excited to finally be able to chat with someone who appreciated Star Wars as much as he did.

 So you were annoyed and slightly angry with Peter but what broke the camel's back is that you started to not feel so good. Your throat was itching and you felt like your tongue was taking up a lot more space in your mouth, getting drier. Peter gave you a distracted look before his eyes widened. He let go of everything he had in his hands before running to his aunt.

 "Aunt May, Aunt May! Y/N's tongue looks like a big, desiccated steak!"

"Peter, don't be rude!" she exclaimed, shocked by her nephew’s words

"No, no come see, she has a huge tongue! I think something is wrong"

 Meanwhile, you ran into the bathroom at Peter's reaction. You weren't sure why he had looked at you like that, but you felt that a few things were wrong. In addition, you were more and more thirsty, your eyes also hurt. And that's when you saw your reflection. You were puffy, your tongue had tripled in size, hence this feeling of dryness and discomfort. It was the same with your throat. You started to cry and when May called you through the bathroom door, you fervently opened it.

 May and your mother's expression of horror was instantaneous and your mother knew exactly what was causing your condition.

 "What did she eat?"

"Nothing..." he tried to escape from being grounded

"Peter, this is very important. What did you eat?"

"We just ate the cupcakes Uncle Ben brought back"

 Ben looked at May with guilty eyes. May had put so much effort into Peter's birthday cake and she felt hurt that they had bought some pastries in anticipation. Your mother was impatiently stamping her foot. It was important to know exactly what you had eaten and above all, you shouldn't waste any more time. Peter felt completely helpless. He had only given a cupcake to his guest, that’s all. What was wrong with giving someone a cupcake?

 "What were those cupcakes flavor?" your mother said impatiently ...

"With lemon and almonds." he said in a very small voice.

 You were panicked. And the eight-year-old that you were was not coping well with stress. Plus, your feeling of being sidelined by Peter and his friend made you feel even worse. So you frowned. You couldn't see a thing but you could feel the torrent of tears escaping your cheeks. You pointed at Peter with rage

 "You tried to kill me !!!" you said somehow with your tongue as big as a little tangerine.

"It's not true!"

"Yes! You are a murderer"

 And you cried even more before your mother takes you to the emergency room as quickly as possible, apologizing for the scene.

 The week later, May forced Peter to apologize for giving you a cupcake, while justifying that he didn't know about your allergy. Your mother forced you to apologize for insulting Peter "a murderer" and accept his apologies.

 But you spent the rest of the vacation arguing with the little guy. After all, you didn't want to be friends with a murderer.

 Summer 2013

Aunt May and your mom didn't let go, however, and every summer you spent three damn weeks with Peter. The summer of your twelve years, you did not thus escape this eternal masquerade but this year, the tide had turned in your favor.

 From the start, you never liked Star Wars. It really wasn't your world. You had always preferred Harry Potter and although Peter had read the books and enjoyed them - which he would never admit to you as that would amount to listing the commonalities you had - he was much more invested in the galactic universe. But on that day, Peter had particularly bothered you. He had first replaced the sugar in your hot chocolate with salt. He kept chanting silly nursery rhymes about you and the downstairs neighbor, insinuating that you were in love: which was not the case. Yes, Peter had been extremely annoying. This time Peter was getting on your nerds by bouncing a small ball against the ceiling as you tried to read your book. Uncle Ben was in the living room watching the sport - you weren't sure exactly which one since it didn't matter to you - so you couldn't go anywhere else to be quiet.

 "Peter, stop it."

"Stop what?" he asked by bouncing the ball once more off his ceiling. You could even make out the smirk on his lips.

"That. Stop it! I can't read."

"This is nothing new."

 You threw him the first thing you found on his desk, c.e, a banana, which he easily dodged. You groaned in frustration. May and your mother didn't understand when you talked about Peter's attitude towards you. He was a calm child, far too shy at school and interested in everything, especially science. He was looking forward to entering Midletown High School in two years. You hated that nerd side about him. Secretly, you were a little jealous of him for being the smartest in the room.

 “I'm gonna hit you so hard you won't know your name anymore”

“ try me, dumbass.”

  A few minutes later, he had finally stopped throwing that damn ball, but obviously Peter's boredom was driving him to find everything the most boring thing than the previous one to drive you crazy. This time, he had simply taken his favorite lightsaber - because he had several - and he was poking your shoulder to get your attention.

 "Parker, stop!"

"Don't you want to drop this book and watch a movie?"

"What do you want to watch? Star Wars? No thanks ..."

"Oh come on, Y / N! I'm sure you'll like it!"

 He patted you on the shoulder once more with his lightsaber.

 "Do you want to play this, Parker?" you said before grabbing one of his other lightsabers

"What are you going to do? I'm sure you don't know how to fight with" he mocked.

 You have lit the glowing plastic stick and you are placed in the guard position.

 "Do you want to bet, knothead?"

 He smiled at you and attacked you first. Strangely, this is what most resembled a moment of bond between Peter and you and deep down, you appreciate it. But you also appreciate that possibility of kicking his ass after he's been so irritating. You responded to his lightsaber attacks with ease and joy. It was playful, childish, but it was one of the few times you had fun with Peter. And you really appreciate it. Your two laughs mingled, echoing in the room.

 But suddenly, as you were trying to dodge an attack from the brunet, your elbow made contact with his face. Peter's muffled cry of pain echoed and you froze. He was holding his nose with a grimace and when he took his hand away you both noticed in horror that he was bleeding.

 "Fuck…"

"Pete..." you started talking

"You blew my nose!" Peter shouted

"I did not do it on purpose!" you defended yourself.

"Of course, you do! You fucking blew my nose!"

"Peter, I swear ..."

 But Peter interrupted you by rushing out of his bedroom looking for his aunt who was in the office as she tried to file the important papers, that Ben and her had received this week. You were livid. First, because you didn't mean to hurt Peter on purpose. Second, you couldn't stand the sight of blood and it was literally everywhere. Peter was leaving trails of droplets on the floor of the apartment.

 "Aunt May?!? Y/N blew my nose! Damn, I'm bleeding!"

 After a brief stint in the ER, the rest of the stay was peaceful as you and Peter avoided each other until the end of the summer.

 Summer 2017

Peter was not the Peter you had always known.

 Since the death of his uncle Ben, the young man had closed in on himself and was even further away. Always so intelligent and discreet but much more distant. He had stopped teasing you or doing things that got on your nerves. He was minding his own business. And even though you had tried to be there for him, not denying him any of the offers he made to you during your stay ... you found him really ... overwhelmed. Which was still understandable.

 But this year was worse than the last. May told your mother that last year Peter got an internship at Stark Industry and attended a seminar in Germany but came back with a black eye. He had been acting most weirdly ever more since then. And you could have witnessed it. In the afternoon, when you were busy, and when it was too hot, when you tried to rest, Peter would disappear for hours. When you caught him sneaking back several times, he made you promise not to tell Aunt May.

 And you were starting to have theories about his nighttime getaways. After all, you were 16 and you too had started dating a few boys. But it never really worked. who knows why?! And when you wondered if Peter had a girlfriend, and who she was - he had to have one in view of all his sneaking out - your stomach twisted in a strange feeling. You didn't understand why the thought of Peter having a girlfriend bothered you so much. Over time, you had learned to be friends. It still happened sometimes that you quarreled but the events of the life made you grow up. Your parents had divorced, Peter had lost his uncle. You could tell yourself that you both had grown.

 And it was one night when Peter was sneaking back in again that you discovered two secrets.

 The first one: He was Spider-Man.

 It was around midnight when you heard the sound of the window opening. Since your childhood and this Machiavellian plan of your mother and Aunt May, you had always slept in Peter's room during holiday and more recently in his bed. The noise alerted you and you got up in a sitting position. But the only thing you saw was a foot, placed on this said window, closing it gently. How the hell was that possible?

 You were ready to scream but your gut told you to look up at the ceiling. A figure hung on it and you were paralyzed. Were you having one of those weird experiences called sleep paralysis? Delicately, silently, you grabbed the first blunt object within reach. A chemistry book that Peter seemed particularly fond of. The figure stepped on the ceiling as you were paralyzed. The form turned to land on the ground and then stood up, still with its back to you. You got up gently from Peter's bed and walked over. The man in the suit whose color you couldn't see took off his mask and you hit the air in an attempt to shoot him down. Peter turned around so quickly and blocked your gesture easily, like a reflex.

 "What the ..."

"Bloody hell".

 You both said at the same time. Your big surprised eyes mirrored Peter's. The curly man let go of your hand with an apologetic expression as you walked away from your friend. You turned on the bedside lamp before you discovered his blue and red costume. A very recognizable costume since it was that of Spider-Man. You winced, a look of judgment and incomprehension on your face. Not bothering to look at his face covered with bruises and traces of blood.

 "What the ... are you sneaking out to go to a costume party?"

"What?! No…No Y/N I’m…”

“Spider-Man? Great costume by the way” you joked.

 For a moment, you completely forgot that you just saw your friend glued upside down to the ceiling. Peter looked at you a little jaded, by the tone of your voice your guess was far from a sincere question but more of a mockery. And right now, the young man needed to be honest with you. He needed you.

 "But, I am."

"Yeah that's it. And I slept with the Winter Soldier. You can't imagine what he can do with his metal arm."

 Peter cut you off by pulling a web with his web shooter, tying your hands. The feel of the canvas was unpleasant, sticky but above all resistant. You let out a little cry of surprise, not powerful enough to pass the walls of Peter's room. Your eyes looked like two big golf balls, realizing that your friend was telling the truth.

 "Omg, You're Spider-Man" you almost spoke too loud.

"Yes and don't make me web your mouth. May doesn't have to know"

"damn, peter. What happened to your face!"

“yeah about that…I need you Y/N, please…”

  And without warning, Peter squeezed the spider in the middle of his costume, at chest level. He winced at the action revealing his bruised chest. He staggered a bit from the action, unsure of his legs and the pain in his sides fierce. You might see several bruises and cuts on your friend's body. You were having difficulty swallowing before you told him you were going to the bathroom to get what you needed. Before leaving the room, he made you promise to be discreet and not tell May anything if she ran into you. When you walk back into Peter's room, he's sitting half-lying on his bed, grimacing. You sit next to him, your heart pounding. You never noticed that he was so built. After all, as a superhero, he had to keep fit. But you couldn't deny that it intimidated you. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and a desire you never knew before. He had his eyes closed, as if trying to make the pain go away. And there, looking at him, you found him pretty. he was so cute that you couldn't help but run your hand through his curls to signal your presence and soothe him a bit. But Peter already knew you were there. He had heard your footsteps, he had smelled your scent, a sweet scent he had grown used to in his later years. He sighed softly, more relaxed. You started to clean the few shallow wounds.

 "Does it hurt?" you asked quietly

"Mhmm no, not really."

"Did you win?"

"Ouch..No. Not tonight."

"Sorry." you said more for your gesture rather than the fact that he didn't win the fight against the bad guys.

"No, it's perfect ... it's just a little sensitive"

 You smiled but something was wrong. A feeling you've never felt before. You've finished cleaning up Peter's wounds, but your gaze has darkened. As you were about to get up, the brunette gently grabbed your wrist to hold you back. He could hear your calm breathing and yet your heart was racing. He could feel the heat on your cheeks. He too felt that the tension was at its height. Your mind was muddled, he didn't know why, he wasn't a telepath, but he could see it, feel it. Your body betrayed your mind.

 "Y/N, what is it?"

"I..I don't know." you lied.

"You can tell me everything."

"I ... Well…Seeing you like this ... makes me ... makes me realize that I ... I'm afraid of losing you."

"You won't lose me ... I promise"

 You are ashamed of your vulnerable state. How did you go from hating this boy to having an overwhelming fear of losing him? You looked at those chocolate eyes in confusion and distress. You were now fully aware that the little neighborhood spider was none other than your childhood friend. The one you once loved to hate, tease, fight with over trivia. He was also on the youtube videos, who stopped cars with his bare hands.

 “Y/N… you won’t lose me, I promise.”

 Peter dared to walk slowly towards you and in a surge of courage, one of his hands circled your burning cheek, his lips rested on yours. The brunette had always had a crush on you without actually admitting it. After all, you had known each other since you were children but... your relationship had been rather confrontational. But for two years now, everything had changed for him. He appreciated more and more your little arguments, your teasing. His thoughts would sometimes turn darker when you lick your lips or when your fingers scratched that point behind your ear, when you were a little stressed.

 Your lips moved between them in a harmonious dance and you were now clinging desperately to Peter's slightly sweaty brown curls. Your heart was pounding at a speed close to the point of no return, reluctant to stop suddenly in the face of this overstimulation. But all good things came to an end and you slowly walked away. You bit your lip to get the taste of Peter's back. Your mind wandered, lost in the haze of rushing feelings.

 "You..you should rest ..."

 You ended up pulling away, swallowing hard. That night you didn't sleep. You have studied every facial feature of Peter, thinking of every event since your friendship. The next day, you fooled that nothing had happened. Too scared of what that kiss meant to you.

 Summer 2025

It all happened so quickly. After that summer, the summer of your kiss, you promised yourself that you understood your feelings towards Peter. You weren't going to the same high school and even though you were both on social media, you never dared to contact him. You needed time.

 But you haven't had this time. Peter became full-time Spider-Man and then the aliens came to earth, again. The threat of Thanos hovered and within moments, days, hours ... you were gone under his snap.

 When you returned to your childhood apartment, you were alone. Well, alone in front of the family who lived in this place now. The man in his forties simply believed you were a drug-hunting teenager squatter. Five damn years had passed. 5 years where your mother had a new life when you had been eclipsed. You were distraught, alone and it was by happy coincidence that you found May at the F.E.A.S.T project. It was a relief for you to find a familiar face again. She had suggested that you come and live in her new temporary apartment, allowing you to finish high school without having to move to the other end of the United States, with your mother. You declined your offer. You wanted to fend for yourself. And surprisingly, you did pretty well.

 To be exact, Mr. Delmar was looking for a student to work in his store and was kind enough to greet you in the bedroom of one of his daughters who had gone to college. By the greatest of luck, you've never seen Peter. Or rather, you managed to avoid it for an entire year. You had caught a glimpse of him one day, trying to speak Italian to get a travel adapter and a dual headphone adapter. Did you feel foolish thinking that after so long - could we consider those 5 years to be 5 concrete years? - would it still focus on the kiss you shared? After all, you got away from him after that. And then, everything went in a state of madness.

 Every time you turned on the television, you learned that elemental monsters had attacked a different country. They had first started with Mexico and then moved to Europe. Italy, Prague and then London. A certain Mysterio seemed to be taking care of this matter, but you couldn't help but think of Peter. May told you he was supposed to go to Italy. In fact, every time she went to Delmar's for a sandwich, she gave you an update on her nephew's trip. But it wasn't the craziest.

 Upon his return ... Spider-man's identity was revealed. You had watched in horror the video of Mysterio, which appeared on the Daily Buggle newspaper, accusing Peter of wanting to be the new Iron-Man. You were listening to J. Jonah Jameson falsely accusing Peter of being a murderer. You knew Peter, and there was no way he had done such an act. The video was bogus, you were sure. When you tried to reconnect that summer, you noticed Peter's girlfriend. Michelle Jones and ... and that's what kept you from approaching him. He was already supported. He had his best friend, Ned. His girlfriend, MJ. And he had May. It was enough, wasn't it?

  It was the following year, after a new incredible adventure that you met again.

You worked at the store in the evening. Mr Delmar had asked you to help him out urgently because his youngest daughter had a health problem. You accepted with pleasure. You had offered to babysit his daughter but the loving father he was wanted to be with her. And it was precisely this evening that a thug decided to steal the fund from you.

 You were at gunpoint with your hands up in the air when you saw a red and black mass fall behind the thug.

 "Hey buddy, I think the bank is across the street"

 Spider-Man tapped the thief on the shoulder and dodged a punch.

 "But I think I'll arrest you anyway if you went to the bank. You don't seem like a nice guy." Peter joked.

 You were paralyzed as your friend, your best friend if you were honest, chained or avoided them with agility. You swallowed hard, unable to move or run away. A gunshot rang out and you smelled a scared little vintage. Peter squeezed the barrel of the gun in his hand, deviating from his course. It made sense now to say that he had simply defended himself against the assault. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, Peter stared the offender against a fridge door, immobilizing him. He then turned to you, oblivious to your identity at the time.

 "Are you okay there?"

"Peter!"

 You didn't give him the chance to realize and you rushed into his arms, hugging him so tight to feel the comfort of his body against yours.

 "Uh, yeah, you're welcome. Cuddles are nice but ..."

 He paused for a moment and his automated eyes widened. He knew his perfume. The flowery, sweet scents that he had missed so much. Is this possible?

 "Y/N?"

 You let go of him and immediately put his mask back on. Adrenaline was controlling your actions and god damn it, you needed that touch. You kissed him, bluntly. Your lips crushed against his in impatience, in ardor, but too bad. You needed to feel it against you, to regain the feeling that you had felt, years ago. After a few seconds, you felt Peter's hands encircle your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart was exploding, the ardor was present in your kiss. You were even frustrated that you couldn't grab her brown curls with full hands, settling for only the base of her hair. You let out a moan before pulling away abruptly. He had a girlfriend.

 "I… I'm sorry. I… Sorry, I didn't mean… MJ… and… please don't blame me."

 Peter silenced you with another kiss, shorter this time but so good.

 “There is no MJ .... Just you and me ... Far Longer Than Forever”

 You looked at him hopefully and then burst out laughing after his words.

 "I didn't know you were so romantic, Parker"

"Shut your mouth."

"Make me"

"You are impossible."

"But obviously, you like"

 He was going to say something to nag you, he was looking for it but you caught him off guard, placing your lips on his again. You could feel his smile in the kiss and you couldn't help but do the same. Anyone living in the neighborhood present in the street would have a view of Spider-Man kissing the student cashier from Delmar. But you couldn't care less. You had waited too long and the joy you were feeling now was so intense, you didn't want to stop feeling this. It is reluctantly that Peter moved away from you apologizing for the fact that he had to go on patrol again.

 "Go save the Spider-Man neighborhood"

"Only if you promise me you'll be there when I get back."

"I was thinking of going to say goodnight to May instead ... But if you want, I have a sleeping bag in the storeroom."

"You are incorrigible .... See you later ..."

"See you later."

 You smiled, in a misty state of bliss as Peter disappeared from view. This time, you weren't planning to escape, you wanted to fall into the webs of Peter Parker. You closed the store after the police visit and headed to May's flat. It was late but with her kindness she welcomed you with open arms.

 This summer ... was the best in years but the others to come were going to be even more wonderful.

[enchanted-sorcery]

Wash the Memories Away

fandom: marvel (mcu)

pairing: peter parker x gn!reader

warning(s): NO WAY HOME SPOILERS!!, angst (?)

word count: 0.7k words

date of post: december 25, 2021

author's note: HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND (for those who celebrate) MERRY CHRISTMAS :D!! i watched spiderman: no way home a few days ago and- i can't. i can't. this fic is my response to the movie. i was in tears by the time the post credit scenes played. if you read, i'm just going to say- we suffer together. also my laptop charger broke so i wrote this on my phone 😭.

masterlist

you never really liked the rain.

it had been raining when you got the call. the day was supposed to be one of much deserved relaxation, doing nothing but having take-out in your pajamas and watching shows on streaming sites. college was a bitch, and it was finally the beginning of break. then, your phone rang on the coffee table. seeing the number coming from your hometown, you decided it wouldn't hurt to answer it.

maybe you shouldn't have.

"it's with deepest regret that maybelle parker was found deceased in the early hours of the morning. she had succumbed to injuries after an explosion. i'm so sorry for your loss."

you heard something fall to the floor, most likely your phone, but you were in too much shock to care. the next thing you knew, you were on the next flight out to new york.

"how did you know her?"

"through spiderman."

you felt like you were intruding something as you walked to your aunt's grave. you knew you shouldn't have, as you had every right to be there. she's your family. the only family member you had left after your parents and uncle ben died.

well, she was the only one you had left, anyways.

the tears weren't noticed until a breeze had passed, nibbling on your skin. you quickly wiped them away with your free hand, the other tightly gripping the bouquet of flowers you bought. you moved closer to where your aunt rested, not paying much attention to the two also present as you set the bouquet down.

the older of the two looked at you, asking you the same question you heard him as earlier.

"she was my aunt. well, technically adopted but-" you shook your head and smiled sadly before returning the question.

"we were briefly seeing each other before, you know…"

"oh, so you're happy?" you remembered may mentioning a new boyfriend once while you two were talking over the phone once.

happy nodded.

you then turned to the other person there. he was younger, around your own age. he had his hood up, so you couldn't make out much.

it was a few more minutes before the stranger turned to walk away. you couldn't help but watch him go, seeing the awkward shift he made as he seemingly pondered the idea of staying. despite not speaking, he seemed so familiar, but you couldn't place your finger on it.

why did he remind you so much of someone?

not being able to answer this bothered you. it didn't leave your head, even after you left the graveyard with happy and eventually for your apartment. unlocking the door, you heard something drop in the halls. out of curiosity, you looked over- only to see the stranger from before, a box on the floor in front of him.

"is everything okay?" you asked.

the young man nodded.

there was a more or less awkward moment of silence between the two of you. after who knows how long, the brunet spoke.

"i'm peter," he introduced himself. "sorry for not saying anything earlier at the- anyways, just moved in-" the stranger, peter, paused, looking in the direction you had come from. "right across from you." a faint smile appeared on his face. he held out his hand.

it took you a moment before you realized his actions were initiating a handshake. you stated your name as you took his hand.

you thought you felt peter tense, but he had relaxed his muscles too fast for you to confirm it.

"guess i'll see you around, peter."

over the weeks, you noted a few things about this peter person. he was a bit nerdy, shy, quiet. he was a big fan of the science-fiction genre, often making references towards it. but what really stood out was the fact that there was always a look of what you could only describe as pain and guilt when the two of you talked.

you thought that seeing peter often meant you'd be able to hopefully find out who he reminded you of. for reasons unknown, he reminded you of aunt may. his smile mirrored hers, and they both fidgeted with whatever was in their hands when they were thinking. but no, it couldn't be her peter reminded you of. but other than may, you couldn't think of anyone similar to your neighbor. the mystery bothered you- sometimes even going as far as keeping you up at night, your only company being the rain dropping onto your windowsill.

you never really liked the rain.

[creativeashproductions]

Lost Time // Luke Patterson

Summary: Things changed since Sunset Curve fell apart literally as three out of four members died before a gig. Leaving a sad girl behind Luke by chance runs into the reader with someone else. Death tore the couple apart, and time can’t fix this.

Warning: Talk of death, depression, angst and fluff

Words: 2.2k

Might as well join the Julie and the Phantoms fan club!

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

Masterlist

THIS IS FROM MY SECONDARY BLOG! REPOST!!

The 1990s was definitely some of the best years of your life watching your brother grow more comfortable in his identity. Alex had kept his sexuality secret, taking the frustration of the secret by learning how to play the drums. You would often be found curled on the chair listening to his growing talent; Alex was a great brother.

Alex found friends in three local boys Reggie, Bobby and Luke, even a little more than friends with Luke briefly. By 1991 the boys had formed a band Sunset Curve with each other and a loyal fan in you. By mid-1994 the band had a fanbase and some gigs, but playing The Orpheum was the goal.

Luke had admitted to Alex, he had feelings for you, and with a lot of encouragement from Alex, he approached you. Luke had been focused on music since his parents gave him his first guitar, so relationships weren’t even on the backburner.

“Hey.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek backstage, “Missed you.”

His hair tickled your skin, bringing a bright smile from the teenage boy and a deep blush from you, private time wasn’t as often as it once had been. After Luke’s fallout with his parents a few months back, he had couch surfed between Reggie and Alex’s rooms; he wasn’t allowed in yours.

“You saw me last night.”

“A monumental time.” Luke bent his bend to place a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder, his jacket having fallen down, “Three years together and a bright future ahead.”

Last night had been the third anniversary of your relationship and hopefully the previous night worrying on parents walking in, cheap dates Luke often felt guilty about. Luke knew in his bones playing The Orpheum tonight would open the door to a legendary future. A future where money wasn’t tight and he could you on dates he deemed acceptable for the love of his life.

Bobby voiced brought Sunset Curve’s lead singer back to that moment, you dropped from the stage to settle in the empty audience to watch the soundcheck. With a wink from Alex, he started making the beat to Now or Never, you beamed as they poured their souls into the song. The four were talented and made to be in a band together even if you didn’t really like Bobby.

Cringing at the awkward wink Bobby sent you turned on your converse to head to the bar for a glass of water. Thanking the bartender, you tuned out the conversation with the waitress and the band only jumping when arms wrapped around your waist.

“We’re getting street dogs.” Luke spoke, bringing your body to rest on his chest, “Do you want one?”

The thought of those street dogs honestly horrifying given they were cooked in some random guys car. The one time you tried, it had permanently tattooed the taste in your memories forever, and just remembering was vomit-inducing.

 “I’ll pass.” You wrinkled your nose, turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t know how you guys like those.”

“Tradition.” Luke shrugged caressing your cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Gazing at features he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, “Still down with the plan?”

“The minute I’m eighteen, we go to the nearest chapel.” You grinned playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I’ll be waiting Rockstar.”

Luke pressed a long passionate kiss on your lips, pulling away to jog over to Alex and Reggie waiting at the door. Bobby having declined the street dog invitation to flirt with the waitress Rose. Alex waved before the door closed. Little did you know that would be the last time you saw them alive.

1995 was the worst year of your life. 1996 was the hardest, especially with the forever reminder of your love. You wouldn’t trade 1996 for the world however, only wishing for one change.

Los Angeles, 2004

Alex, Reggie and Luke had learnt a mere few days away from that life had drastically changed forever. Firstly, the three boys had died from eating the street dogs mere hours before performing on the stage of The Orpheum. Secondly, it was no longer 1995 but instead nearly ten years had past bringing the three ghosts into 2004.

The most jarring wasn’t being able to be heard playing music with a random girl named Julie but that the most constant part of the band no longer was there. You hadn’t died that night, and Alex was pretty sure you were still alive. Luke felt lost waking up without you beside him and the deep regret of not reconciling with his parents.

It would be a week before Luke would swallow his pride enough to orb himself into his unchanged childhood home. Emily, Luke’s mom, was in the well-worn chair knitting a scarf Luke recognized as his favourite colours. Mitch was in the kitchen, putting the groceries away. It was heartbreaking being invisible to his aged parents.

“Hey, Mom.” Luke sniffled sitting on the couch nearby staring at his silent mother, “Sorry for not visiting sooner.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes feeling hopeless, not being able to ease his parents’ pain, the regret and guilt bubbling to the surface.

“How is Y/N? I bet she’s living in New York of London now. We promised to travel the world together. Part of me is guilty of wishing she had eaten a street dog that night so we could be together.” Luke sobbed, wrapping his arms around his midsection reminiscing on the beautiful girl he had unwillingly left.

“Hey.” Mitch spoke, kissing his wife’s forehead. Her eyes closing in contentment.

“I wonder if you know where Reg and Alex’s parents are. Reggie’s neighbourhood was torn down who knows when. It makes me scared to see if Alex and Y/N’s parents still have their place. I don’t think so. They lost their son.”

“Hey Luke.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder to see Alex at the door, reluctant to impose of Luke’s privacy.

“Yeah.”

“We’re rehearsing.” Alex spoke, smiling as the other teenager took one more wistful look at his parents before orbing out of his house to the Molina family’s garage. Minutes later, the front door opening and feet thudding brought the noise to the Patterson home.

“Grandma!”

A four-foot blue of green and black blur covered the room in seconds nearly sprawling Mitch to the floor. Why was that 1996 year difficult? Well, ’95 was when Sunset Curve tragically died, and a stick changed your life. ’96 was spent going through the last five months of pregnancy without Luke.

October 1995

You kept your lips pressed tightly together, unable to look at the smooth, shiny mahogany rectangle surrounded by flowers. Looking up meant the reality kicking in. Funerals sucked. Especially the third funeral in the last handful of days. It was surreal thinking that one week ago you had kissed your boyfriend and hugged your brother and now they were dead. Gone. Not even a goodbye.

“Are you okay?” The broke voice asked, gaining your attention. Swollen red eyes matching yours held unimaginable pain. While the last few months had been icy with your parents, it didn’t mean losing one of their kids didn’t sting.

“I will be.” You whispered clasping your hands over the scratchy black velvet dress, one you had worn three times too many.

The sobs broke out seeing the best picture Alex had taken in his life, it encapsulated his best features; his beaming smile and kind, caring eyes. Alex was gone. Your brother was gone because he ate a bad hot dog with his friends. You would never see your boys again. Never feel Luke’s skin or share a laugh with Alex or complain about things with Reggie. You wouldn’t get to meet in the chapel with Luke wearing second hand ‘fancy’ clothing. In one night, your life changed.

It changed further seeing the two lines on the test later that night. The heartache growing. The baby you carried would never meet his uncles and his Dad. Would never hear them play or learn to play. ’95 and ’96 sucked ass.

You sighed, closing the door to follow the rambunctious ball of energy into the living room where he entertained Mitch and Emily. Some days it was difficult to stare into the green eyes he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas.” You spoke crossing your arms, meeting the gaze of the eight-year-old boy, “What did I say?”

“To not runoff.” Ben quietly replied, playing with his hands. His messy brown hair, in need of a trim, falling into his eyes, “Sorry Mom.”

“Please don’t do it again.” You gently told the little boy elated as he quickly found the toy box in the corner of the room.

Ben was loved deeply by Mitch and Emily, who had stepped up when your parents made the decision to sell your childhood home. Wanting Ben to know his paternal grandparents, you had struggled to find an apartment and job to say in the neighbourhood. Since the baby was the last part of their son, the Patterson parents’ had welcomed you into the home where you stayed until Ben was two.

“Do you want us to come around for Luke’s birthday?” You questioned sitting on the love seat, the same love seat you had made out on with Luke many times during movies.

The room turned sad at the question and reminded that for the ninth year, you would celebrate Luke’s birthday without him. A day where Ben wouldn’t fully understand. Emily simply nodded her head.

 “Have you met anyone?” Mitch asked, leaning over to clasp his hands together. For the last few years, they had been pushing you to date. They wanted your happiness and for Ben to have a father even if Luke couldn’t be it.

“Mama can we stay here tonight?” Ben’s innocent voice cut the tension, saving you from answering the question again. Mitch and Emily each nodded their heads at the question, unable to tell the young boy no.

“Have you ate?” Emily asked, turning to look at you in concern. The chuckle left your mouth at the question she frequently requested, she missed cooking for more than two.

“We had pasta before we came.” You replied, turning to gaze out the window to the dark sky, “I should put Ben to bed.”

The soft whine from your son and denial was a nightly routine and very much a mirror image to Luke’s character as well. With a smile, Emily held out her hand to her grandchild, she was notoriously the only one able to get Ben to sleep fast.

 “Come on Bug.”

It seemed the universe was keeping Luke from seeing you and discovering Ben, but when that night came, he was shocked. Emily was curled up on the patio couch, watching Ben in the newly bought sandbox. The patio doors opened. Inside, Mitch had invited a stranger who knew his son into the house.

 “I think I heard the doorbell. I’ll be right back.” Emily called out to you. You had found shade under the tree reading a new book.

The soft cry had you up and running to Ben before you even realized, on his knee was a bleeding wound. You had already scooped the boy into your arms to quickly get into the kitchen. The moment your foot stepped into the home, the sound of a familiar voice and song filled the house.

Gently placing Ben on his feet, you followed the sound to the living room. Across the room behind a young girl stood a boy.

“Luke.” You breathed floored at the sight of the teenager who looked exactly like he did back in ’95. The ghost singing widened his eyes at yours, taking in the mature features and change of fashion.

He continued to sing the song Unsaid Emily he had written as an apology to his mom following the last big fight. The song he never got to show her. His voice faded as the ending of the song came around.

“Mama!” Your attention broke from Luke’s when a tiny hand reached for yours. The pain in his voice bringing you back to the most important part of your life, “It hurts Mama.”

Despite being sad, Mitch was the one to cross the room to lift the little boy into his arms. Placing the little boy on the counter, the man gently wet a paper towel to wash the area.

“I think he needs stitches.” Mitch sighed, furrowing his brows.

“Who is that?” Luke asked the Molina girl. The girl shrugged taking in the features she could recognize. Julie asked Emily.

“That’s Ben.” Emily beamed, looking over her shoulder at the little boy that filled the void of Luke’s death. It didn’t fix the wound or erase the pain, but Ben’s existence helped with the loss as he was a precious gift, “When Luke passed away his girlfriend Y/N found out she was pregnant with Luke’s baby.”

The choked sob fell from Luke’s mouth echoed by the thud of his knees, hitting the floor in the pure shock. The heartbreak painted so clear Julie was sure she could feel Luke’s agony.

God, why did Luke have to eat that fucking street dog. Fuck his band dreams. Nothing hurt as bad as finding out about Ben and Y/N having to be a single parent.

“I have a son?” Luke cried, orbing himself as far as he could from the Patterson home and his most tremendous loss.

Part Two

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[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 12 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage; it gets a bit sexy, but nothing explicit

Word count: 2.7k

Part 12 - Pillow Talk and Butterbeer

After you had gotten the Foxgloves in Diagon Alley, the only thing you could do for the antidote was to wait. Wait for Nagini to shed and wait for the end of March to arrive, so you could go to the Gaunt manor and look for a flask of Banshee tears. Meanwhile, the cauldron simmered safely in the Come and Go Room. You had to stir it frequently and skim off the foam that built up, so it required a good portion of your time, which was quite worrisome. How would you be able to keep that up when school would start again and you were occupied attending classes? Of course, Tom and you could alternate in doing those tasks, but you didn’t want to bother him with all that constantly. He had to attend to his duties as head boy on top of everything, after all. Well, there had to be a way. It would be manageable somehow. 

Even though Hogwarts was almost empty and there weren’t many people around, you hadn’t felt lonely. Not even a bit. Tom and you had gotten closer over the week. Even closer than before and he still showed no signs of annoyance towards you. Which surprised you. You would have thought that he liked to keep to himself a lot, and wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time with someone else, regardless of who it was. But that suspicion turned out to be untrue. Tom had followed you to tend to the potion every single time you had gone there, even if you hadn’t asked him to. He stuck to you like a magnet, which was strange at first, but once you had figured out that he just seemed to thoroughly enjoy your company, you let him.

When the two of you weren’t in the Come and Go Room, or studied for the upcoming semester, you spent your time in bed a lot. The meaning of ‘enjoying the holidays’ suddenly had a different ring to it. You still had not gotten used to his touch, his scent, his faint whisper in your ear. But if you were honest, you didn’t want to ever get used to it. It was too exciting to get that rush, the way your heart started racing, every time his fingers brushed across your skin. Every time your name fell from his lips and when his eyes lingered on your figure when you lay beneath him. Those smiles, rare and subtle, he graced you with between the sheets. No, you would never get used to that.

And Tom had started to talk more. Granted, still not as much as any other person you knew, but it was certainly a step in the right direction. One rainy day, he even opened up and talked about his family.  You held hands beneath the blanket, one of your legs was sprawled over him and you had just put your head into a comfortable position between Tom’s shoulder and the cushion, when he just began, out of nowhere.

“Do you remember when you asked me about my parents?” he said. “In your room, at Christmas.”

Your head propped up again so that you could look at him. “I do. Why?”

“Well,” he paused and looked back into your eyes, his voice low and plain. “Do you want to know what happened?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

He laid his head onto the pillow and looked up towards the ceiling while he bit the inside of his cheek. 

“My Mother,” he began. “She fell in love with him, Tom Riddle, when she was seventeen. He was a muggle. Filthy and worthless, even though his family was rich. Merlin knows what she saw in him.”

The thought that him being a muggle didn’t define his Father’s worth came to your mind, but it wasn’t your time to speak now. 

“He didn’t love her back,” Tom went on. “At least not as much as she wanted him to, apparently. Morfin, her brother, had just finished his schooling for Potion’s mastery, so she snuck into his chambers one night and stole one of his love potions.”

This story wasn’t going to end well. Most love potions, the ones that weren’t sold in joke shops, which were diluted and only meant to last for a few minutes, were illegal. You had learned about the most dangerous ones during Slughorn’s class in sixth year, so that you were able to detect them. One of them, the most powerful one, had attracted everyone’s attention back then. The potion alone was infatuating, even if one had not consumed it yet. Its scent had drawn in every person in the classroom, as it smelled different to everyone, based on what the person liked. You still remembered that striking feeling of needing to take the potion yourself. Obsession was the best way to describe it. All rationality had left you once Slughorn had lifted the cauldron’s cover. No one seemed in their right mind anymore. The mere thought of being at someone’s mercy, without even knowing it, was frightening.

“Amortentia?” you asked.

Tom nodded and you could feel one of his legs bouncing up and down. His voice still was indifferent, as if he was telling you just another irrelevant story.

“She drugged him with it and didn’t tell her family. They wouldn’t have tolerated a muggle as her husband of course. But they secretly got married and when she was pregnant, she broke the charm, thinking he would love her anyway.”

“And?” you asked, hoping that the answer would be different from what you anticipated.

“He didn’t love her obviously. And he ran from her. Left her. Can’t even blame him.”

“He left her when she was pregnant?”

Tom nodded and your heart sank for him. Even though his father’s actions were understandable to an extent, you couldn’t imagine what it must feel like being so unwanted by one of your parents that they would have left before you were even born.

“What happened to her then?” you asked.

“She died while giving birth to me. At least that’s what Marvolo told me.”

“You don’t think she’s dead?”

“Oh, yes I do. I don’t think she died from giving birth.”

“Do you think he… That Marvolo… Killed her?”

Tom shrugged, still looking up at the ceiling. “Possibly. I could see why he would have done it.”

Everyone who knew Marvolo could probably see him do that. That man was evil, to say the least, and seemed to enjoy it when others suffered. But killing his own daughter was something you hadn’t thought anyone, not even the worst person on earth, was able to do without hesitation. 

Silence had fallen over the room. You could hear Tom breathing, still collected and slow, contrary to yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered for lack of a better word and held his hand tighter.

“It’s alright,” he answered, his voice sounding like he was the one consoling you when it should have been the other way around. “I have no memory of them. It’s not like I miss her.”

Could you miss someone you never really met? Probably not, you thought. But it was definitely possible to know you missed out. 

“And your father?” you asked. “Do you know where he is now?”

Tom let out a sharp breath through his nose as if he was suppressing a laugh. “I don’t think he’s alive either. They never told me, but I assume Marvolo took care of him as well.”

You sighed at his response, turned to lie on your side and rested your head on Tom’s shoulder, your hand leaving his, to hold on to his upper arm. 

There had been so much harm, so much betrayal in his life, even before he could have done something to prevent it. No wonder he behaved the way he did. There had never been hope. He never stood a chance.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumbled. “Do you wish it could have been different? If you had gotten to know them.”

“You and your wishful thinking,” he said and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I never thought about it. It wouldn’t change reality. It would just make me mad.”

You nodded as a silent way of approval, your fingertips tracing patterns on the curve of his shoulder.

“I do wonder, however,” Tom said and lifted your chin with his hand, so he could look into your eyes. “What my father felt when she put him under her spell with Amortentia.”

His gaze darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his fingers still holding up your chin when you blinked.

“The closest thing to love, I assume,” you answered, a breath stuck in your throat. “The replica of it at least, as hollow as it may be.”

Tom still looked at you with a glare as sharp as a butcher knife. He sucked in a breath, pondering, and parted his lips, about to say something. Before he could though, he leaned closer, pinned you down to the mattress and kissed you, his hand wandering from your chin to your neck.

An owl from Camille arrived on one of the last days of the break. Her letter made you smile as you walked across Tom’s room and read it.

“Camille wants to meet up on Sunday, when she’ll be back,” you told Tom, still skimming across her lines. “They are official now, Ben and her.”

“Alright then,” Tom said absentmindedly, his nose in one of the books from the library.

“She asked for you to come too.”

His head rose in confusion. “Me? Why?”

“I think she wants us to go on a double date,” you chuckled. “To the Three Broomsticks. Sunday at five.”

No matter how sure you were of how much Tom enjoyed your presence, he absolutely wasn’t entertaining the idea of spending time with Ben Hilt. And about that, he was very clear. He had asked you a couple of times if you were sure that Camille meant for him to come and had tried many ways of escaping that date, but alas, you dragged him there.

“Four Butterbeers,” Ben ordered after you had sat down at a table together.

Ben sat opposite to Tom, who was more than obviously annoyed by the fact he even had to be there. You patted his thigh, ordering him to behave, to which Tom eyed you seriously. Camille and you both bit back the smirks on your faces, while Ben tried his best to be friendly.

“So,” he said, looking at Tom and you. “How were the holidays?”

“Mind your own business,” Tom murmured, which luckily no one but you had heard.

“Good,” you spoke over him and pushed your elbow against Tom’s side. “Quiet. Not many people around.”

“Oh, you stayed in school, didn’t you?” Ben asked. “You both?”

Tom didn’t answer and looked back at Ben without a hint of emotion on his face. You nodded and smiled.

“How about you?“ you asked.  „What have you done? Have you met up?” 

“Oh, yes we did,” Camille said. “Ben introduced himself to my parents and then took me to the cinema.”

“Cinema?” Tom and you asked simultaneously. 

You had heard of cinemas before of course. But you had never been. Movies were a muggle invention, and even though it sounded tempting, you had never had a chance to go.

“Yes,” Camille confirmed. “We watched ‘Dead of Night’. That’s what it’s called, right?”

Ben nodded as he swung his arm around Camille’s shoulder. “Horror movies. My favourite.”

“Why would you do that?” Tom asked and took his cup from the server, who had come up with your order. “Go to the cinema. That’s such a muggle thing to do.”

“Oh, you’ve never been, huh?” Ben asked. “None of you have, have you?”

“You should have seen his face when I told him,” Camille laughed. She had, similar to you, grown up in a pureblood family as well.

“And you should’ve seen mine when I went to her house,” Ben added. “I’m still not used to wizard’s homes, you know. They’re so different. I like them.”

Tom stiffened next to you. 

“You’re muggleborn?” he asked, his mouth agape.

“Indeed mate. Didn’t you know?”

“You’re a mu-… muggleborn,” Tom stammered and looked over to Camille. “But you, you’re a pureblood, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Camille said, a baffled smile on her face.

Tom still had a hard time believing what he had just heard. “And you… You two. Even though…”

“Tom,” you whispered, trying to escape both Camille and Ben’s amused looks, and patted him on the thigh again.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat and motioned with his hand. “I just. I didn’t know.”

“Well now you do,” Ben shrugged before taking a big sip of his butterbeer. “Best of both worlds, am I right?”

“Right,” you said when Tom didn’t answer.

Changing the subject seemed necessary, but you couldn’t think of anything worth talking about. The only thing you had been doing was tending to the potion, and that was something you would rather keep a secret. 

“The worst thing is that none of you folks have phones at home,” Ben went on.

“Phones?” Tom asked.

“Telephones. You can call other people and talk to them.”

“I wish I had one,” said Camille. “I told my father about it and he thinks it’s a great idea. Maybe we’ll get one of those ‘phones’.”

That was interesting. To talk to someone directly, even if they weren’t there? No apparating, no Floo Network. Muggles might have been weak, but they sure knew how to handle their handicaps.

“Why would you need to do that?” Tom asked. “Talk to someone on the phone.”

“Well, it spares a lot of time. No need for owls or letters. You just pick it up from the hook and speak.”

Tom seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he shook his head. “But owls do the job just fine.”

“Not as quickly,” Ben grinned.

“Well, then I’ll send an urgent owl if I need my message to arrive sooner.”

Ben stifled a laugh and took another drink. “I mean, of course, mate.”

“I think it’s interesting,” you said. “And you only hear the voice of the other person? You can’t see them, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Fascinating,” you mumbled. “What other things do you have that we don’t?”

Ben looked into his cup for a moment and hummed. “Well, muggles invented the train, which we all use to go to school.”

“Oh,” Camille gasped. “Wait until he tells Tom about cars.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Of course I know about cars.”

“Have you driven one?” Ben asked.

“No. Obviously not.”

“You should one day,” Ben gushed. “My father got a 1943 Bentley recently. Technically I’m not allowed to drive it, because I don’t have a license. But I’ve seen Father drive a lot. So I borrowed the car one night and it was life-changing.”

Tom took a drink and raised one brow. “I’d rather just apparate.”

“Yes, that’s great too. But it doesn’t have the same feeling. It’s really liberating. And much more comfortable than brooms. I could take you all on a ride someday in summer. The car fits four people.” 

“Why?” Tom asked before you could agree.

Ben raised his eyebrows again, a smile still plastered on his face. “For fun?”

“For fun,” Tom repeated and looked at you as if to ask you what Ben was trying to tell him.

“You should do more things just for fun, mate,” Ben chuckled. “Might help against that constant frown.”

Camille and you laughed quietly, both turning your faces away from the boys and you bit your tongue. Tom straightened his posture, his eyes darting across the table, apparently thinking hard.

“We’ll see about that,” he said and raised his glass. “Mate.”  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

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[sope-and-shine]

Written In the Stars: Finale

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, // Mummy!Namjoon, Moon Goddess!Taehyung

-> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader // Taehyung x Reader

-> Word Count: 7k

-> Summary: Life after losing a loved one is challenging, especially when you’ve had the chance to see just how long the two of you have spent passing each other by. With it only being a few weeks since your loss, you’ve found your life has become dull and despondent. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to move on, even with the help of friends.

-> Warning(s): mild language

a/n: I can’t believe we’re actually at the end 😭😭 I’ve put so much time and love into this story and I’m both sad and happy that I’ve been able to finish it! I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Masterlist

*

*

*

“Ma’am, where’s the restroom?”

You turn and see a father holding a small boy in his arms, and you immediately jump into action, “Take a right out of these doors, down the hall until you see the blue traffic sign, and it’ll be on the right. There should be a Daffodil portrait on the wall right before your turn.”

The man heaves a happy - very relieved - sigh, “Thank you!”

“Of course!” You watch as he speedwalks out of the exhibit and takes off down the hall. You can only hope he actually makes it there.

The day shift has definitely been more exciting. It’s only been a few weeks, but your days have been filled with more excitement since you switched. You tried to continue with the night shift post, but the silence just became too overwhelming. Thankfully, Hoseok seemed to understand when you told him.

You switched back to the day shift in hopes it would help to take your mind off of Namjoon. You thought being surrounded by others would make you feel less lonely, but you can’t help but think about how your life has changed so drastically.

Adjusting to your new life hasn’t been easy. Everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Namjoon. You hear his laugh by the water fountains, you see his hair in crowds on the street, and you can still feel his arms around you at night as you lay in bed.

At first, you thought it was something you could handle. You thought if you embraced his goodbye, then you’d be content to live the rest of your life without him. But no one told you losing love would hurt this bad.

You’ve tried to do other things, like knitting and working out, but you’re not very good at either one - nor do you really like them. Cooking had seemed like a good idea until you realized that meant cleaning the dishes. With every attempt to move on, you seem to take 3 large steps back.

You find yourself going to places Namjoon would have liked. Spontaneous trips to the park lead to long evenings by the river. Extra hours at the museum have you wandering through the exhibits just to look at the art one more time. Even a quick trip to the store has you buying things you’ve never thought to try.

The one place you never go is the King’s exhibit. At least, not of your own free will. It’s only happened twice - once being today - because someone had to call out. And just like the time before, you find yourself at the aquarium.

A place where Namjoon was truly happy.

The touch tanks have quickly become a favorite of yours. They allow you time to think to yourself and drift off, to daydream about a handsome king with an endearing fascination for the world around him.

You like to visit the crabs the most. Mostly because you know Namjoon would if he could. He thought they were the cutest on your outing together, and holding the tiny creature in your palm you can see why.

“Ow!” You flinch at the small pinch from the crustacean. Your hands jerk, but you try to protect the crab the best you can without dropping it.

“Here-” A large hand reaches in front of you and plucks the crab from your hands, “These guys get a little finicky when you hold them up too high.”

You place your thumb over the pinch and turn to him, “Really? I can’t-” You pause mid-sentence.

Now, looking at the crab’s savior, you see him. Lilac strands poke out of the blue university hat he’s wearing. His khaki shorts are worn and just barely reach his knees, and his sneakers are all worn out. Even the socks he’s wearing have slightly lost their vibrance. His baggy t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s more fit than he was a few weeks ago, but a few weeks ago he had disappeared right in front of you. But there’s no mistaking that dimpled smile.

This is Namjoon.

You stare at him like a deer in headlights, and you must look exactly how you feel because his smile turns to concern, “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” You’re not. You’re absolutely stunned and he doesn’t seem to recognize you. They do say everyone in the world has 4 people that look just like them. How unfortunate that you’ve found his. “You just...look really familiar.”

“Really? Well, I guess that means I have a memorable face then.” He muses, chuckling to himself - Exactly like Namjoon. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You take another selfish moment to look at him, admiring how gentle he is with the small creature in his hands. “You really seem to like the crabs.”

“Yeah, I do!” He nods enthusiastically, “I really only applied here as an excuse to play in the touch tanks.”

“Something easy to wind down from classes?” You ask.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he turns to you as if you suddenly grew 2 extra heads, “How’d you know?”

You giggle, “You’re wearing a university hat with your grad year.”

“Really?!” You nod and he pulls the cap off of his head, letting out a frustrated groan when he confirms he’s wearing his university hat, “No wonder my supervisor straight up ignored me this morning. This is the third time this month I’ve grabbed the wrong one.”

“At least it’s a nice hat.” You assure him, trying to remain positive.

He places the cap back on his head and sighs, “Tell that to him.” He brings the small crab still resting in his palms eye level, “This little guy knows exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t tell me you speak crab.”

“Of course I do! You just have to know how to listen.” He says matter of factly.

“Alright then. Ask him how he’s doing.”

“I will.” He turns to the crab and stares at it as if they’re having a staring contest, “How are you feeling, little guy?” He moves the crab up to his ear and acts as though it’s whispering to him, nodding and humming disagreement, “I see...I’d be pretty frightened too.”

You narrow your eyes, “What did he say?”

“He said he was having a great day until someone came and held him up too high.” He teases.

“You’re taller than me!” You argue.

He looks you up and down, nodding, “You’re right…” He seems to contemplate for a moment before he shrugs with a sly smile, “He probably just likes me better.”

“Oh, really now?” You challenge. He nods proudly and you scoff, “Well, what’s your name? Resident Crab Whisperer?”

“No! That’s way too long.” He laughs. He extends the hand not cradling a crab towards you and smiles, “My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“Well…” You hesitate, trying your best not to react. You swallow your nerves and shake his hand with a smile of your own, “-It’s nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. Any relation to the mummy at the museum?”

“That hopeless romantic from the Seoul Museum?” He jokes. He takes this moment to place the crab back into his touch tank, “Yeah, he’s like a great-great-super great uncle or something like that.”

“Well, you look like him.” You say. He gives you a confused look and you’re quick to back-pedal, “His portraits! You look like his portraits.”

“I do?” He asks.

“Besides the purple hair, I’d say you’re the spitting image.”

“I’ll have to check it out myself then.”

“Well, their hours are 8am to 10pm Monday through Saturday and 12pm to 6pm on Sunday.” He gives you a pointed look and you shrug, “I’ve been the night guard the past few years. I just switched to day shift.”

“Really?!” He asks in disbelief, “Isn’t it creepy working the graveyard shift? It must be way too quiet.”

“Not really.” You think back to the nights you spent with your Namjoon and how he made you laugh. You remember asking him the same thing one Saturday night after the museum closed. You two were much closer than his first Sunday there, but you couldn’t help but worry about how he must get through the night alone. But Namjoon was a king. He wasn’t worried about a bit of peace and quiet. “A friend of mine once told me that silence is more reassuring than anything. It means peace.”

“They sound wise.”

“He was...” You can’t help but think about Namjoon’s absence.

This always happens when you think about any good times you may have had, remembering how much fun you had and how you’ll likely never have it again. Being in front of this Namjoon does nothing to help you feel at ease.

“You know that movie-?! It’s-Oh...What was it called…?” The lilac-haired Namjoon suddenly claps his hands together with a proud smile, “Night at the Museum! Anything like that happen after hours?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing better than anyone how Ben Stiller’s character felt during that movie. Of course, the Namjoon in front of you would never believe you, “I wish. It’d make some of the exhibits a lot more interesting.”

He nods, “I bet they’d be pretty interactive too…Could you imagine history telling itself?!”

“Please, I don’t want to hear about the love-life of a thousand-year-old mummy.” You joke, knowing full well you already have.

“Yeah, I guess that would get annoying after a while...always lamenting about love and what-not…” He seems slightly disappointed, but his smile comes right back, “Why don’t you let me show you around and I’ll tell you about our exhibits instead?”

You’re taken aback by his boldness, “Oh, are you sure?” He nods, “I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! My shift ended like 30 minutes ago and this place is only open for another 3 hours.” He assures you, “So, what do you say?”

Maybe it’s because he’s the spitting image of Namjoon, or maybe it’s the similarities in their personas. Maybe it’s just the way his dimples appear every time he laughs and his laugh sounds just like his. No matter what it is that’s drawing you to this Namjoon, you find that your heart has taken over for your brain and it’s putty in his hands, “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Namjoon breaks into an excited grin, dimples on full display, “That’s the spirit!” He straightens his posture and holds his arm out for you as if he were a butler or an escort, “From here until the aquarium closes, consider me your personal tour guide for the rest of the evening. There won’t be a bench you haven’t sat on by the time we’re done!”

He’s confident.

But perhaps he’s too confident…

He takes you to places you’ve been before, educating you on every animal in great detail. He doesn’t miss a single species, and he takes great care to make sure you see what he’s talking about - guiding your head and pointing in the right direction. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you could listen to him talk for hours. He’s so well-spoken, and he describes everything in such wonderful detail. It comes as no surprise to you when he mentions himself to be a literature major.

He has such a unique personality and the most terrible humor. He tells you about his bike and how much he enjoys riding by the river and through the park. He tells you about his love for moon jelly and how it’s like looking up at the sky when you see them. Everything about him is just so uniquely him, but you can’t help but see all of the similarities he holds to your Namjoon.

His physical features are all the same: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his dimples, his height, and even his haircut! There’s no doubt that this Namjoon would look identical to your Namjoon if his hair were the same dark brown. His interest in the Moon and his love of literature. Your Namjoon would have excelled academically in this world just like this Namjoon. Even his love of small creatures and terribly out-of-date dad jokes is exactly the same!

He’s Namjoon.

But he doesn’t hold the memories of your Namjoon…

Taehyung had told you how Fate had tried to warn him several times. How Fate couldn’t change what would happen, and she could only hope to guide everyone to the best outcome without ruining the future herself. But how cruel could Fate be to have another Namjoon this close to you yet not be yours. To thrust this on you so soon without even a few months to grieve more.

How could someone be so heartless?

---

“And this would be the last bench of our tour.” Namjoon says as you exit the aquarium, extending an arm as he presents it to you.

“Oh wow...” You thank him and take a seat, playing along with his charade - as you have all night - as you pretend to admire the bench. You admire the dedication plaque for just a moment before you turn to him in mock disappointment, “I thought you said we’d see everything on this tour?”

He shrugs, “I may have rambled here and there...” He seems almost sheepish as he realizes how he went on and on over every topic the two of you talked about, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries here.” You assure him. You’d take 5 more tours just to listen to him ramble on and on for hours, “Now I know that fish talk through make sounds by vibrating their muscles against their bladder. Pretty weird, but I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t told me.”

“Well, I’m glad I could educate you a bit.” He seems nervous, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts from one foot to the other, “Maybe we can do this again?”

“Uh…” You hesitate, “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s just a tour. No harm in that.

“Maybe...I could take you to dinner too?” He asks.

There’s some harm in that.

He already seems nervous so you try to find the right words to say, “Oh, I-” But your face seems to give you away way too easily.

“You’re not interested.”

“No-!”

“It’s okay! I get it, I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” You stand up and try to explain, but he seems to already have your rejection in his mind.

“No, please, don’t feel like you have to. I’ve been told I can be a bit pushy.”

“No, that’s really not it! I’d love to go to dinner with you!”

That seems to catch his attention.

“Really?”

You nod, “Yeah! Just not now, or like-...anytime soon.”

The last of Namjoon’s hope turns into skepticism, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that?”

“I know how it sounds, but please-!” You stop yourself before you can blurt out the wrong thing and scare him off entirely, “I lost someone really special to me recently. His loss hasn’t been easy for me, and I don’t want to jump into something too soon. I don’t think that’d be fair to you if I’m still hung up on someone else.”

“Oh wow...I’m really sorry about that.” You thank him and take a moment to breathe, holding yourself back from the tears that want to break free, “I went through a loss not too long ago too! You’re taking the right steps, and I appreciate you thinking about my feelings.”

You smile, “Of course! Everyone deserves that.”

“Well, no dinner then, but maybe another tour next weekend? Same time?” He asks, “Strictly hanging out though. No dinner.”

You nod, “I’d love that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He says excitedly. Though, as soon as the words leave his mouth he’s stepping over himself to correct what he’d said, “Not a date! Absolutely not a date. No, ma’am.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at how endearing he is, “I can’t wait.”

You squeeze the strap of the bag on your shoulder with one hand and wave with the other, turning and departing from the current Namjoon. Maybe in time, you can fall in love with this Namjoon for who he is and not because he reminds you of your Namjoon. At that point, then this lilac-haired, crab-loving, literature enthusiast would be your Namjoon.

You can only hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

*

*

*

“So, that’s it then?”

“I’m sorry?” You turn around confused, only about 50 feet away.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to be nice to this me, but not the one that waited 1,000 years for you!” He explains.

You’re so confused that it takes a second to grasp what this Namjoon is saying, and then it hits you. This Namjoon isn’t just any Namjoon.

He’s your Namjoon.

King Kim Namjoon.

The Hopeless Romantic from the Seoul Museum of Art and History.

“Namjoon…?” You ask. You know it’s him, you’re confident. But it still seems like it’s way too good to be true.

He nods, “It’s me.”

In an instant, you’re running towards him. You fling yourself into his awaiting arms and squeeze him as tight as humanly possible, burying your face into his neck as the tears begin to form in your eyes. You let your hands thread through his soft, purple locks and allow yourself to relax with his arms squeezing around your waist.

You bask in this overwhelming feeling of being whole again. You feel light and complete for the first time in weeks and it fills you with so much joy that you can hardly contain yourself. The embrace feels like that first kiss all over again, and you just never want to let him go.

As you calm down and you come to realize that Namjoon isn’t going anywhere, you pull away just enough so you can see his own tear-stained face. His cheeks are red and his eyes are puffy, but his smile is unmistakable with those gorgeous dimples of his.

Looking at him, it’s now that you realize…

He remembered you this whole time.

You smack his chest - not enough to hurt him, but enough so he knows you mean business - and he flinches, “How dare you play with me like this, Namjoon? Do you know how hard the past few weeks have been for me?!”

“I’m sorry!” He apologizes. He runs his hands up and down your sides affectionately, trying to keep you close - and not angry with him, “Trust me when I say this wasn’t easy for me either.”

As much as you would love to be mad with him for pretending he didn’t know you, you can’t. You’re just happy he’s here more than anything. But that still begs the question, “How are you here?”

“I’m not supposed to say much, but I can tell you the other deities had a few tricks up their sleeves.” He explains. He takes a moment to admire your features and leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “But I think most of the thanks needs to go to Taehyung.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “You know about him?!”

He nods, “It was a shock, but he and the other deities explained everything.” He pulls you closer and uses a hand to cup your face, “They gave me a whole life to share with you.”

You lean into his touch, but you’re still reeling from everything that’s happened in such a short time, “And you just remember everything?”

“They gave me the memories back.” He corrects. He’s so close now and you want nothing more than to start where the two of you had left off before you broke the spell, “I guess Fate had a backup plan for him.”

“Thank Fate for that.” You say before giving in to your temptation and pulling your soulmate in for a much needed, long-awaited, proper kiss

* *

*

“You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork to see Taehyung standing in your doorway, wearing his favorite emerald 3 piece suit. His fist is raised to the door frame as if he knocked just before he spoke. You must not have heard him.

You wave him in, “Yeah, come in! I’m just finishing up with this finance report.” You expect him to come right in, but he seems hesitant to do so. “Are you okay?”

“Am I not in trouble?” He asks.

Your brow raises in confusion, “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Well, Jimin said-'' Taehyung stops. He remembers the other day after work when he’d come home to Jimin and Jeongguk, going at it in the kitchen for the 4th time in 2 weeks. He’d thought it would be funny to dump water on them - and so had Guk - but the Earth deity had apparently been unamused. Of course, him being the pettiest individual he would settle for a payback that would absolutely scare him. He sits in the chair across from you and throws one leg over the other, “Nevermind. I know what happened.”

You chuckle, “Well, I have a surprise for you. That’s why I asked for you.”

“Oh, really?!” He’s definitely surprised, “What is it?”

“Well-” You move your finance report to the paper organizer on your desk, grab your bag at your feet, and stand up, “-why don’t show you?”

He uncrosses his legs and stands, “We’re going somewhere?”

You nod, “If you’re up for it.” You hold your hand out for him, an action that’s become normal between the two of you.

He takes your hand and you both exit your office together, leaving the human way. You make your way downstairs hand-in-hand, passing patrons that still roam the halls or meander up and down the stairs taking pictures to their heart's content. It all makes you feel human, and feeling human makes you feel happy.

On your way through the lobby, you catch sight of Eunha talking to another security guard. She’d made a request to switch shifts, and you made sure to have Hoseok take over her position under the guise of someone else. She looks happier, but you know better. Thankfully, her shift will be over in a few more hours.

“She’s pretty strong.” Taehyung comments, seeming to already know what you’re thinking. “I talked to her this morning and at lunch. She’s holding it together.”

You manage half a smile, “That’s good.”

Seokjin spots you walking together as you get closer to the exit and his smile widens, “Goodnight, (Y/n)! Goodnight, Taehyung!”

“Have a good night, Seokjin!” You respond, offering a small nod.

“See you tomorrow!” Taehyung waves. Seokjin gives him an indiscreet wink and you pretend you don’t see it even when Taehyung gives him an even more obvious wink back.

You playfully bump him with your hip and he pulls you with him, raising your joined hands above your head and resting them on your opposite shoulder. You squeeze as tight as you can together to fit through the door frame and out to the open air.

“I heard you promoted him.” Taehyung mentions as you make your descent down the large staircase.

You shrug, “There was an opening available.”

“Was there?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow.

You nod, “Yes. There was.” You nudge him back.

“Are you sure~?” The blonde asks again, “I’d hate to see you fall victim to those silly human emotions~”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you are something else!” You drop his hand and rush two steps ahead of him, but he’s right behind you.

“I’m just looking out for you!” He defends. He rushes down the steps to the bottom before you make it to the last step and he puts his hands out to stop you, “We wouldn’t want to upset the council, would we?”

“I think you’ve done enough angering the council to cover me.” You remind him, poking his nose with your pointer finger, “Besides, maybe I want to get under their skin.”

“All of them? Or someone specific?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

You sigh, “I’m not saying Seowoo deserves it, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He agrees. He looks both ways down the sidewalk, “Which way?”

“This way.” You point towards the side of the museum where the street light is out, the darkness wrapping around the corner and making the perfect disappearing point.

You take his hand and together you both walk into the shadows, walking into the darkest section of the sidewalk before disappearing at the corner. You round the trunk of a cherry willow, a sliver of distant light shining through the drooping branches.

Taehyung runs his thumb over your hand and stops, “Are you wearing rings?” He pulls back to check and does a double-take when he sees you in the dim light, “Why’d you change?”

“We’re at a university.” You explain. You’ve changed from your work clothes to a university sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, “I’d rather look like a student than a teacher. You should probably change too.”

“Oh...sure.” In his own fashion, he changes into a white shirt under a baggy, light beige sweater vest, a pair of jeans, and orange converse. He looks himself over once before fashioning a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to finish his look. “Where are we?”

“Eunha’s college.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Why are we here? She’s still at work.”

“I want you to meet a friend of mine.” You explain.

“You have friends?” He asks, earning an unamused glare from you, “Sorry.”

“This way.” You lead Taehyung off the grass to the actual path and walk under the lights back towards the main building. When you reach a fork in the path you make a left to go around the side of the building between another series of buildings on the other side of the path. You keep walking until you reach another large area with benches, tables, and a fountain.

Sitting on the side of the fountain with just enough light that you can see them, is a trio of 3 men with different hair colors. One with midnight blue, a pastel pink, and lilac. Of course, you recognize them all without a problem at all.

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late, I just had to grab Taehyung.” You call out.

The pastel pink head turns to reveal Hoseok - who’s changed from his normal all-black outfit to a black t-shirt with the word obey in colorful letters, bright orange pants, layered necklaces, and a pair of black, yellow-tinted glasses resting on the top of his head, “No worries, we haven’t gotten started yet.”

“Yeah, Joon was just telling us about the assignment we missed.” Yoongi agrees, revealing himself to be the midnight blue head of hair. He’s wearing an all blue, leaf-patterned outfit with a TuneSquad jersey underneath his top.

“You wouldn’t have missed it if you made it to class on time!” Taehyung freezes as soon as he hears his voice, pulling you to a stop as well. He knows that voice better than anyone, knowing damn well it belongs to someone that’s supposed to be dead.

Hoseok shrugs and leans back, “What can I say? I had priorities to attend to.”

“I just wasn’t interested.” Yoongi stands up and takes a few steps to stretch, revealing Namjoon sitting at the end of the three.

Namjoon is wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a black belt with a white shirt tucked in and a light blue button-up over it. He sighs, “How you have the highest marks in the class I will never know.”

Taehyung looks between the three of them, going back and forth between the two deities and Namjoon before settling on you, “What is going on right now?”

You squeeze his hand, “Just don’t say anything.” You pull him with you to join the others, coming to a stop in front of all of them. You point to the blonde and then to Hoseok, “Taehyung, this is Hoseok-”

The walking gumball throws up a peace sign, “Sup.”

“-Yoongi.”

“Hey.” He gives a small wave

“-And Namjoon.”

Namjoon is the only one to stand and walk up to Taehyung to offer his hand, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” He asks, shaking the old king’s hand.

“(Y/n) hasn’t been able to shut up about you,” Namjoon explains with a devious smile. You visibly freeze and that only eggs him on more, “She said you were annoying when she first transferred into our class, then she said she thought she was in love with you.”

Taehyung gives you a look and you completely ignore him, “Namjoon!”

“Of course, we all knew she was,” Hoseok adds with a teasing smile of his own.

“Hoseok! Shut up!”

“How interesting.” Taehyung chuckles, happy to know how you feel even as you pretend you don’t exist, “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Why don’t we all move this way? Maybe grab a bite to eat?” You suggest, hoping to move on from your own embarrassment.

“Yes!” Hoseok jumps up and throws his arms in the air before dropping them back down to his sides, “I’m starving!”

Yoongi scoffs, “You’re always starving...”

“I’m growing. I need sustenance.” Hoseok defends, patting his stomach for emphasis.

You walk up beside him and pat the back of his head, “I think all of that food is going right to your head.”

Hoseok looks like a kicked puppy and Namjoon sweeps into his defense, “C’mon, guys, don’t pick on him!”

“Yeah! Don’t pick on me!” He pouts, crossing his arms.

“He can’t help it if he loses brain cells without food,” Namjoon says, turning and grabbing his belongings while you and Yoongi laugh at Hoseok’s expense.

“Do you want me to swear at you?!” The poor god of Death looks absolutely appalled and utterly betrayed by the lilac-haired man. He huffs, “You children have no respect for your elders.”

“Can I quote you on that?” Yoongi asks, walking past Hoseok to grab his own bag.

“Absolutely not!”

Taehyung watches the dysfunctional chaos before him, in awe that the 3 pillars of balance could act like humans. Not just with each other, but with someone he himself once called a friend. You’re all so different than you are at the museum and the council meetings, it’s like you’re not even the same people.

“Tae?” You ask, pulling him out of his confused state. You hold your hand out to him, asking him to join you as the others continue to walk ahead. He accepts.

The 5 of you walk together, further away from the buildings on campus to the fence that lines the end of the property. You all forego the sidewalk for walking across the lawn, getting further away from the lights as you go.

Hoseok comes to a stop in the middle of the grass and Taehyung almost walks into him, “Do you think this is far enough?”

Yoongi looks around and shrugs, “I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Notice what?” Taehyung asks.

“Way to sound like we brought him here to murder him.” Namjoon jokes.

“Namjoon. Hold my hand.” You say, dropping Taehyung’s for his.

Hoseok and Yoongi hold hands across from you and Namjoon laughs, “Oh, are we having that seance now?” He looks at Taehyung and winks, “Sorry, I guess we forgot to mention this part.”

“Just hold my hand.” You demand. He does and Hoseok takes his other, creating a chain between the 4 of you.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs, “Alright, let’s do it.”

You and Hoseok nod in agreement and Namjoon nods as well, acting as though what you’re all doing is just a practical joke you hadn’t let him in on. It’s only when a soft golden light starts to travel between your hands and to him that he starts to get worried.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks, fearful of what’s going on. He tries to pull away, but you and Hoseok are much stronger than the poor human. The light only continues to grow brighter, and the brighter it glows the more concerned Namjoon becomes, “Guys-?!”

The light washes over him like a wave and it’s like someone has opened his eyes for the very first time again. He takes a deep breath, and then he’s looking around at the others and at himself and at Taehyung and it’s like he’s experiencing life for the first time all over again.

“How did-? But I thought-” He struggles to find the right words to say, unsure where to start, “What’s going on?”

You step in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Namjoon, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I’m (Y/n), and I’m Fate.”

His eyes widen, “Fate…?”

You nod and Hoseok pushes you out of the way to make his own introduction, “I’m Hoseok, but you’d know me better as Death.”

“You’re Death?” Namjoon asks, obviously not able to believe that someone like Hoseok could be something as dark and daunting as Death.

“Death equals mercy,” Hoseok explains. Both you and Yoongi push him from both sides and he chuckles, “Sometimes…”

Namjoon nods, not yet believing it but going along with the information anyways. He turns to Yoongi, “Does that make you Life?”

“Was it my sunny disposition that gave me away?” The blue-haired deity asks, earning a laugh from the king.

You move in front of Namjoon again and gently take his arm, “And this is Taehyung.” You pull him to where the blonde stands, still in shock, “You two have already met before, but you might remember him a bit differently.”

You place a hand over Taehyung’s head and down his front, revealing how he looked the very first time he had met with the king, “Jihye…”

“Hey.” Taehyung smiles sheepishly, waving shyly as his old appearance morphs back into his college boy disguise, “It’s been a while.”

They both just stare at each other, one nervous and the other in disbelief. Taehyung can’t help but think of all the things Namjoon could want to say to him. How disappointed he is. How upset he must be. It comes as no surprise to anyone when Namjoon moves forward and pulls Taehyung into a hug. His arms cross behind his head and he pulls Taehyung as close as humanly possible without hurting him, “I’ve missed you.”

His words are like a breath of fresh air and Taehyung finds himself relaxing into the embrace and holding his friend back just as tight, “I’ve missed you too…”

It’s a special moment, one Taehyung never thought he would get. His first friend is back and it’s thanks to 3 very unlikely people.

“Why didn’t you come to see me after the spell worked?” Namjoon asks, pulling away.

Taehyung looks down, slightly ashamed, “I didn’t want to mess up again.”

“Again?”

“Like the first time. We’d been so close, but even if I had made it work you still would have-” He stops. He doesn’t need to say it. Not when everyone already knows what he’s going to say.

“But I thought once we broke the spell I’d have to wait until my next life?” Namjoon asks, reiterating what both he and Eunha had put together.

“Technically, this is your next life.” Yoongi mentions.

Life’s revelation comes as a shock to both Namjoon and Taehyung, “What?”

“You were supposed to meet in this life, but because you two just had to make it happen sooner-” Yoongi makes sure to glare so hard in Taehyung’s direction that his planet might even shiver, “-the spell tore your soul away from this one and placed it with your previous body once the spell took hold again.”

“With the spell broken, we were able to put your soul back in this body and merge them together.” You explain. The 3 of you have been sitting on this plan for weeks, and you’ve carefully crafted a friendship with this Namjoon since his soul left his previous body just to ensure you’d be able to make this change happen altogether.

“You’ve been able to do this the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Taehyung asks, completely shocked. You give him this ‘are you kidding me right now' look and he seems to get the hint, “Right. Fate’s strings…multiple outcomes.”

“I can’t believe this…I can’t wait to tell Eunha.” The modern king is still entranced with himself like he’s never looked at his body before. And then his words hit him and he realizes that Eunha isn’t here and has no idea that he’s alive, “I have to go see her right now-!”

He turns to take off in a sprint and Hoseok places himself in front of him with a hand on his chest, “Not so fast, deadman.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi groans, “You cannot just go hunting her down.” He’d spent far too much time conversing with young adults and various incompetent professors just for this plan to work and he was not going to let it all boil down to nothing.

Namjoon however, doesn’t understand exactly what’s at stake, “Why not? I need to tell her I’m alive and that I’m okay!”

“The magic that brought you back is still fragile. If you go to her now then the whole thing could blow up in all of our faces!” Hoseok explains in his own, dramatic fashion.

“So, what? I’m supposed to just wait?!” The king asks in disbelief.

“It will happen as Fate allows.” You remind him, “You’ve waited this long for a miracle, I think you can wait just a bit more.”

Your words are simple and still just as cryptic as always, but they put him at ease and bring him back to his senses. He nods, “Right…”

“Geez, why couldn’t you have been that easy?” Yoongi says, turning to Taehyung.

The blonde scoffs, “I am easy!”

Hoseok laughs, “I don’t think you actually know what that means.”

Taehyung crosses his arms, “I’m doing my best, okay?”

“Well, now that we got all of that settled-” Hoseok claps his hands together loudly and rubs them together, “-let’s go get some grub.”

Yoongi turns to Hoseok in disbelief and hits his arm, “Are you serious, right now? You don’t need to eat to survive!” The blue-haired deity reminds him.

“But Namjoon does! I’m sure Namjoon would love a nice warm meal.” Hoseok turns to the poor human with a look that resembles a kicked puppy and it’s like they’ve gone back to being undercover again.

“I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat I guess?” Namjoon caves, the god of Death breaking into celebration while the god of Life can only sigh in disappointment, “If we go to that one place downtown we can order drinks at the student price.”

The offer of a few beers seems to peak Yoongi’s interest much more than a measly human meal, “Hoseok gets to pay for everything.”

Hoseok shrugs, “I don’t care. It’s not like I can’t create my own money.”

He turns to get back on track for the gate to leave campus and Namjoon trails after him, “Wait you can do that?! How does that even work?”

“Oh, don’t get him started. Just blame magic like every other human and let’s get to the bus before it leaves.” Yoongi calls out, starting at a slower pace behind them. They leave you and Taehyung to take the back of the group, the both of you trudging along at a slow pace behind them.

“So, are you going back to your duties now that everything is done?” Taehyung asks. A part of him hopes that you’ll stick around or maybe even come to visit him on his own planet, but he knows that you have your own duties to attend to.

But you’ve thought about this as well. You knew that once Namjoon’s memories were merged and he’d be left to go and find Eunha on his own, that you’d be free to go back to how you were before this fiasco started. But things are different now. Now, you have Taehyung who’s snuck his way into your heart and made you feel emotions that you’d left reserved for humans. He’s helped you understand how to feel without letting it interfere with your job, and you don’t want to let that go just yet.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t have a planet of my own. I really just drift freely within space when I’m not doing anything.” You kick at the dirt, “Maybe I could stay here on Earth. Do what humans do.”

He’s shocked, “You’re staying on earth?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I heard there’s this museum with this ancient mummy exhibit.” With a mischievous, all-knowing grin you ask, “Wanna go check it out sometime?”

Taehyung can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face. He takes his arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side, “I’d love to.”

You may not be able to look at your own future together, but at least you know that the both of you can do it together.

Maybe Hui was right.

Maybe for Fate, the future is written in the stars.

~ Thank you for reading ~

[theangrycomet]

KenCaster headcannons?

I love you anon.

I'll color this later.

LONG

How it Started

Charmcaster initially went under a disguise "Charlotte" to charm Ken in order to get back at Gwen

What she was not expecting was for Ken to be able to see completely through her illusion charm.

Ken doesn't exactly have a "true" spark but he does have some abilities- especially after the stress of the DNAlien incident.

One of which was to see past illusions- especially magical ones. (i'll get to the other in a minute)

Ken was definitively intrigued by the goth-witchy vibe she gave off.

He asked her out after the third time he and his band preformed for the coffee shop they'd met at.

Rambles

He calls her Charlie (a nickname she's grown quite fond of) or sometimes Cheshire when he's being playing.

She was shocked by how much of a sweetheart he was, given how the rest of his family is (excluding Sandra and Carl obvs.)

When he found out she lost her purse (to Gwen but she didn't mention that) he spent a few days looking for another bag like it until he found something like this

Charlie, for her part was shocked and more than a little touched. She had mentioned the bag thing offhandedly and here he'd spent the better part of a week trying to find her something to replace it.

None of the guys she'd dated before hand had ever put this much thought into doing anything for her.

For his part, Ken can't believe he got so lucky. Supportive, a good listener, quirky, attentive; normally he was about as lucky as Ben when it came to his love life- as his previous girlfriends and boyfriends would be happy to tell you- but he feels he's hit the jack pot.

The boy's smitten.

To this day he's not sure how she first figured out it was his birthday, but it was sweet when she brought a cupcake after class. It made him feel a bit better that Gwen hadn't called.

Charlie also helped him pic out the colors for his dragon tattoo.

Ken is totally grunge but his mother is Natalie Tennyson so he has to clean up and hide the tats when he heads home for the holidays. Her son, have long hair and wearing anything but a fitted shirt? No ma'am.

It also helps that Charlie thinks he's cute with longer hair.

Another thing that surprised Charlie was Ken's shyness with physical intimacy.

She backed off when he asked, she was just startled. Again, all the previous guys she's dated hadn't really had a problem with this so she wasn't really expecting him to NOT be interested.

Ken's a take-it-slow guy and was a little overwhelmed.

He was pretty quick to take up her offer on cuddling with a movie instead.

Charlie tends to steal his leather jacket a lot, though she usually returns it after a couple of days after loading it with protection spells.

Ken luckily didn't inherit any of his mother or his grandfathers cooking skills- instead learning from Sandra with Ben.

He's actually pretty close with his Aunt and Uncle; he actually gets more updates on the family chaos from Sandra.

It's not like he dislikes his parents- he loves his dad and mom. He just doesn't feel like he can be himself around Natalie. Certain expectations must be met, which the real Ken doesn't quite meet.

Ken was shocked to find out Charlie's name wasn't actually Charlotte. He spent the next couple of days trying to guess it.

"Skye?"

"Nope."

"Grace?"

"Nu-uh."

"Amythest?"

"Not even close."

"Ummm... Gretchen?"

"Get real!"

It was around this time Charmcaster had pretty much forgotten about her revenge scheme on Gwen.

Her powers did get a natural boost from Ken, but she thought it was just her getting a better head space. (Though that did help IMMENSELY)

His other "passive spark" ability is giving a small boost to peoples mana. It's part of why he's able to cheer people up so well.

The two (especially Charmcaster) are big on cuddling. Snuggling up to each other as they walk down the street, holding hands. Practically sharing a seat at the theatres. Etc.

She's actually interested in his engineering work- even if she doesn't understand a lot of it. Her favorite part is how his eyes light up when he's talking about his passion projects.

Let me tell you bringing her home was an EVENT!

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Diego Hargreeves’ child

Diego Hargreeves x child!reader

warnings: knifes, blood, guns, death mentions, mental hospital

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hi! Could you please write a “The Umbrella Academy” Diego Hargreeves x daughter reader headcanon? I always think Diego is such a overprotective softie dad ♥️♥️”

deigo really said “?????”

how dad

but also he’d just the most loving dad anyone could ever ask for

✨it’s because he was never loved by his dad✨

“hi cutie, i love you, i love you, i love youuuuu”

he locked away all his weapons so that you couldn’t hurt yourself on them

but he always missed a few and he’d turn around and see you holding throwing knives and just FREAK OUT

“no, no, no, you may not have those! knives are for big boys like me, not babies”

“give back”

“‘give back?’ are you nuts?”

diego has conversations with lil you as if you know what the fuck he means dhshshhshs

as you got older, you became more interested in his “career”

“no, i dont care if you have powers or not! you have a bedtime, that means no vigilantism, you hear me?”

“if i say ‘no’ can i be a vigilante?”

“you know what? how about you clean up the gym for al so he doesn’t evict us?”

you did not sign up for this

you really wanted to meet your aunts and uncles, but you weren’t exactly sure they knew about you

i mean, you knew you had a cousin but everyone knew about her because aunt allison was a goshdarn celebrity

“dad, i want to meet the family!”

“no you don’t”

end of discussion

despite having a bedtime, you still watched movies late at night with your dad

he really liked marvel movies

“come on, that would never happen!”

“you come from a family of superpowered kids, a robot mom, and a monkey, and you’re upset about...a guy that shoots arrows?”

“maybe i am, what’re you gonna do about it?”

you ask about umbrella academy stories a lot, you your dad usually makes it about him

“and then i punched that guy in the face! and then i stabbed him in the leg because he was a dick! bet you’re friend’s dads arent as cool as me”

*yawning bc you’ve heard this story a million times*

you go to public school

you do have your dad’s last name

which occasionally gets recognized

“woah! wasn’t your dad a superhero?”

“i have no idea what youre talking about” :)

practicing your knife throwing while diego is away, him coming home to find his knifes stuck through various targets

so proud but he had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself

you actually had to learn how to patch him up because he did come home a bit battered and bruised several times

“im okay, y/n. no need to freak”

“dad, there is literally blood dripping on the floor will you just sit down and stay still for five goddamn minutes?”

“woah, who the fuck taught you to cuss?”

watching the news at home when your grandfather was reportedly dead

you were actually very upset because you wanted to meet him so bad

even if he was a dick

your dad came home silent and you knew he knew

“you okay?”

“oh, yeah, im better than okay!”

finally getting the chance to meet your family

“who are you?” -allison

“im, uh, y/n. diego is my dad”

*jaw dropping*

and you know what? that happened four more times (plus ben but you didn’t get to see that)

“and you are?” -luther

“who’s the...the little one?” -klaus

“well, what do you know? diego’s a dad” -five

“don’t tell me that’s...no way” -ben

“you’re diego’s? wow, i can’t believe he didn’t tell anyone” -vanya

“i...i know who all of you are” -you

diego bragging about how perfect you are while everyone simultaneously rolls their eyes

“well, y/n, maybe one day we’ll schedule a playdate for you and claire” -allison

“‘playdate?’ how old do you think i am?...but yes i wanna meet her”

“god, you’re so much like diego, it’s unsettling”

you had been secretly training at al’s gym during your dad’s late night activities

so when trouble came your way, you were able to handle yourself pretty well

“where the hell did you learn that?”

“al showed me a few moves!”

“that old man? you’re kidding”

you met your grandmother, grace, who was tasked with keeping you safe at all times

you actually loved her sm

but there was something a bit off about her

besided the fact she was a robot

klaus snuck you out so that you two could have BoNdInG tImE

it wasn’t all bad

ben was a lil choked up that he got to meet one of his niblings

“they’re perfect”

“they just stabbed someone, buddy”

“who are you talking to?”

FIVE EVEN SCHEMED WITH YOU

“okay, y/n, i need you to curve something when i throw it, got that? right at that security guard”

“what are you throwing?”

“you’ll know when you see it, make your uncle five proud”

“IS THAT A GUN”

<3 family

running into patch!!

“hey, kid, i just saw your dad. i thought i told you to handcuff him to the radiator when you were away?”

“yeah, well, he wouldve chewed his hand off so here we are”

that was the last time you saw her :/

well, your dad was now a wanted man

“what happened to your arm?”

“no”

you actually didn’t expect this family reunion to go south like this

wait—yes you did

vanya has powers????

“i thought vanya was the one without powers?”

“yeah. so did we.”

diego straight up did not want you anywhere near that

but you, again, were his child and also fuck authority you do what you want

the vibe is almost getting shot several times

by hazel, cha cha, and “commission” guys?

going 2 ur auntie’s concert 😌✨

“y/n, hide in the bathroom and stay there until i come get you”

“dad, i love you, but no”

“y/n, i love you too, but yes”

“no”

“yes”

“NO”

“YES”

you won

but in the end (or not so much) you time traveled to...1961?

without any of your family

“this is...this is not good”

understatement of the year(s)

what was a kid like you gonna do in dallas, texas in 1961

no seriously, what

it was rough, but you managed to survive on your own

and open a paper in 1963 to find a mugshot of your dad

“son of a—”

visiting dad! (two years later)

“y/n? oh my god, y/n! shit, i missed you so much! why do you look different? you’re bigger, oh god. how long have you been here?”

“2 years, dad. you?”

his hair was so LONG

“2 months”

“christ, that’s it?!”

“i have to stop jfk from being assassinated”

“what makes you think that’s a good idea???”

“its the right thing to do, wanna help?”

“shit, i guess. as long as i dont end up here”

“no promises, people in the 60’s are crazy”

diego: 👁👄👁

you: 👀

running into five on the street soon after

“uncle five?”

“no time to talk”

“okay, asshole? i’ve been here for 2 years and you dont care?”

“two years, huh? i spent 45 years in a post apocalyptic world as a 13 year old and beyond”

“i didn’t say it was a competition, dude. you kinda dropped us all at different times. at least, me and dad. he—”

“is trying to kill lee harvey oswald, i know. come with me”

finally running into your other aunts and uncles, who were so excited to see you

you ran into their arms and they picked you off the ground and you felt closer than ever after only knowing them for 10 days

dad broke out

lila too

“im your new mom!”

“you’re what?”

diego dragged you along with him almost everywhere

he had missed you so much, but he keeps forgetting you kinda grew up without him for a while longer

meeting grandpa :)

“a grandchild, huh? how unfortunate”

“bitch”

“what did you just call me?”

“a bitch.”

your dad and basically the entire table trying to hold back laughter

reggie was stunned

cold hearted just like him <3 he didn’t know if he was offended or proud

this is so confusing

diego just disappeared off the face of the earth

and assassins were on your case

“the goddamn swedes are back oh shittt im gonna die”

“y/n, just curve their bullets”

“it’s not as easy as it sounds, klaus!”

you were doomed

theres too much to go over

apparently you died on a farm????

and then you didn’t??????

and your dad was almost apart of the commission

“hey, you okay, y/n?”

“i would like to take a nap please”

“yeah, me too”

“me three!” -klaus

yeah it was never that simple 😌💕 the end

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @cullens-stuff // @lotsoffandomrecs // @takethebladeawayfromme // @that-nerd-tessa // @teenwaywardasgardian // @spidergirla5 // @sheridans-dynamos // @freya-xo // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @jay-is-groovy // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @abbiesthings // @thereagles // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[littlemissagrafina]

Everything has changed (and I'm not ready)

Anniversary celebration fic for my irondad platonic soulmate au as well as a gift for @superherotiger

Peter didn't have the greatest relationship with time, it just wasn't on his side. Not after having been cut short with so many of the people that he loved.

First was his parents. His time with them ending when he was only five years old, not even being able to understand fully that his mom and dad weren't going to walk back through the door and hug him close between them. That they never would again.

And just as it had with his parents, his time with Ben was cut short as well. But it wasn't only him this time, not in the way it had been before. His aunt and uncle’s time with their brother and sister in law had been taken but it was different from what and who had been taken from Peter.

It was different this time, because time had been taken from May, now too. Not only had Peter lost his uncle, but May had lost her husband. Just like that, their time with someone that they loved was taken away. Again.

Peter had hoped it would be the last. But that wasn't meant to be.

The next person he would lose time with wasn't even the one to die. No, it was him who died, leaving Tony with the reality of time being taken from them. Their broken and silent soulmate bond left as a constant reminder. An empty hourglass.

And then it wasn't empty. Peter and billions of others had been returned, many broken bonds repairing just as Tony and Peter's at their lost half's return.

Their sands of time started flowing once again in the midst of the same battle that almost led to the sand's second end. Their time was granted a chance to continue, as were countless others around the world, the universe.

Time was returned, and now it was ready to move forward.

 ---

Things change, people change. Time moves and so do the lives of everyone and everything. Nothing can truly stay the same forever, not changing, growing, or moving at all.

It wasn't right. Everything changed, even if it was slowly and in a way that had you looking back on previous years, thinking it was so different back then.

Everything changed, time moved forward, and Peter knew that it had to. He really did. But that knowledge still didn't make him want those changes. It didn't make his fear and his anxiety any calmer.

All it did was overwhelm him and make him feel woefully unprepared in the face of time moving and him having to move with it.

Quite frankly, it sucked. Big time.

It was all too soon, things were moving too fast and Peter didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't ready.

Looking around at the world, he saw the way things had changed in the last two years since the dusted had been returned.

He saw the rise and the fall of the good and bad effects of billions of people returning to a world that had only just found its footing again.

He saw the places he once knew–buildings, parks, and homes–and how they were no longer there. Only a ghost of their memory left behind in the newer versions or the empty remains that replaced them.

And he saw age and growth. Things he noticed oh so much in his family, his friends.

It was in Morgan's growth spurt, her head reaching just above his hip, and the seven candles on the cake at her birthday party.

In the faint lines appearing at the corners of May's eyes and mouth. In the grey hair that Pepper found, and in the creaking he sometimes heard in Tony's bones.

But it was time moving for himself that truly unsettled Peter.

He was 19 now. It had been two years already since the battle. He was supposed to be moving on and growing up.

Peter was going to college in a few months, all the way in Massachusetts. Four hours and over 200 miles away. Away from his home, his family, and the only piece of stability that he had been able to create since coming back.

And he wasn't ready. He was far from ready. With each day that passed, each day that inched him closer and closer to leaving for MIT, he just became more anxious, scared, and lost.

Peter thought that he had at least hidden it well enough, the only problem was his attempts at hiding it from Tony. He knew that the man would more than likely feel at least a tiny bleed through from their Bond but Peter had painstakingly and slowly numbed his side of the Bond in an attempt to stop that.

Apart from Tony, he was sure he had hidden it pretty freaking well from everyone else, and had thought he had been successful at not letting anyone notice.

Keyword being thought. Turns out, Peter hadn't been quite as successful as he'd believed.

That fact became entirely apparent during a weekend visit from the one and only Michelle Jones. (Also known as his girlfriend and the only other person apart from Pepper Potts, May Parker, and Natasha Romanoff capable of subduing and controlling the eccentric genius of Peter and Tony. Yes, even when their dumbassery was combined.)

They had been sitting out on the dock, legs dangling off of the edge and their feet kicking back and forth in the cool, refreshing water of the lake, when MJ had turned to look at Peter.

Her head tilted, eyebrow raised slightly as she pinned him with a gaze that made him feel as though he was one of her books that she analysed.

Peter stared back in silence.

A few moments passed before MJ's expression softened, apparently finding what she was looking for. "You know you can talk to any of us, right? About whatever is bothering you." She said to him, her voice soft and low as if she didn't want to disturb the quiet peace of the summer afternoon.

"And please don't say that there isn't anything, I know that there is. We all do. We care about you, Peter, and we're here if you need us. I'm here if you need me."

A muscle jumped in Peter's jaw as he clenched his teeth, looking for a moment like he would open up. The moment was over seconds later when he sniffed in a decidedly Tony like manner and gave MJ a put on smile.

As if she wouldn't see through it. She did.

 "Thanks, Mich." Peter said.

The conversation was over. He had made that clear and MJ knew that if she pushed anymore that Peter would just shut down. And so, as much as she didn't want to, she backed off.

---

"I don't understand, Pep. He just won't talk. The second you even think about asking if he's okay or anything vaguely similar, he shuts down." Tony rubbed a tired hand over his face as he dropped face flat onto the bed next to his wife, sighing into the mattress as Pepper reached over and ran a gentle hand through his hair.

Even though she was just as worried, Pepper couldn't help but smile at Tony's clear concern and love for his kid. "Maybe he just needs to figure it out himself. I know another certain someone who used to do the same. Not always nice, is it?" She gave a slight smirk before sobering at Tony's next words.

"He closed the Bond. Not completely, but he did it slowly and minutely enough that I didn't notice until I realised one day that I couldn't feel his presence as much as I usually would in the background of the Bond. That's what's worrying me the most." Tony's eyes were dark, exasperated concern glittering in them.

"I just wish he would let us help him. He won't even talk to May. I don't understand why he won't let any of us in, not let me in. My kid is hurting in some way and I don't know what to do or how to help him." Tony looked up at Pepper and she was momentarily silenced by the frustration, love, and hurt written across his face.

That was when she realised it was more than just worry and concern about Peter as Tony's unofficial child, that it was worry and concern about his soulmate who was hurting and withdrawing from any form of support and help.

"What do I do, Pep?" Tony's voice was soft, almost defeated, and she didn't have the heart in her to admit that she didn't know what to do.

Instead, with as much confidence as she could muster, Pepper murmured to her husband.

 "We give him time. And until he is ready to speak to any of us, we give him support and show him to the best of our ability that he is loved and will always have us on his side."

Continue Reading on AO3

Because I'm on mobile and tumblr won't let me post the full fic

[foreverwcnter]

cardigan / p.p

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

summary: “you thought i was dead?” after you go missing with no leads to what happened, you are presumed dead and peter writes letters addressed to you, to help with his grief

word count: 3k

requested: no

warnings: semi character death, heartbreaking angst :( , fluff

a/n: this is for @ariistotles​ lovely writing challenge! i am using prompt 9 for my fic and i hope you guys enjoy!

two days. forty-eight hours. two thousand eighty minutes. one hundred seventy-two thousand, eight hundred seconds. that’s how long you had been missing. the team of avengers, including desperate peter parker sat around a table, staring at the very little evidence they had of your disappearance. it was only two nights ago when you and peter had been cuddled in bed and you had left to go home. 

evidently, you never returned home. 

peter ran his hands through his hair with frustration, eyes bloodshot red from crying. he was terrified and guilty, knowing if he had just walked you home, he wouldn’t be staring at the picture of you on the screen in front of him.

“we have no leads,” sam wilson stated,” the only evidence is this cardigan.”  

peter knew you were wearing it when you left. he recognized the cute patches of stars scattered on the knitted sleeves and the oversized buttons along the ends. it was always so big on you, he didn’t think you would have bought it from that thrift store, but the moment you laid eyes on it, you fell in love with it. you had fixed up the holes and messed up seams, it looked like something someone would shove under a bed. but you took it into your care.

“she was wearing that after she left my apartment,” peter explained, voice cracking. the entire time he had been silent as they investigated your disappearance. “she almost forgot it but i reminded her.” 

peter took a glance at the cardigan, instantly taking notice of the blood-stained sleeves. 

“we have to find her,” he finally added, one tear slipping down his cheek. tony hadn’t spoken at all, and peter knew why. peter understood what it felt like to lose someone. there was a chance you’d be found again, but it was slim. you were just gone. 

the next few days were hell for peter. they hadn’t found anything and all he wanted to believe was that you were at least alive. everyone around him seemed to be giving up already. peter had even overheard tony talking with the other avengers, thinking that you weren’t alive and he’d have to plan a funeral. peter refused to give up, he couldn’t believe the idea that you were dead. there was only a glimmer of hope left in some of the avengers. every day that passed, the more likely it was that you were dead. it wasn’t until two months of searching, they finally gave in.

tony kept the funeral private. it took everything in peter to just crawl out of bed that early morning and may had to help him tie the tie for his suit. his hands trembled too much to get it straight. he didn’t want to believe you were gone, but by this point, he was giving up himself. everything at the funeral was dark, the opposite of what you were like. you always had the brightest of smiles, your hair would always smell like fresh daisies from a meadow. everyone who gathered around was silent, staring at an empty casket, watching it get lowered into the ground. 

peter found himself alone after the casket was six feet under and collapsed to his knees in front of the gravestone. tears openly fell down his face, as he stared at the name written on the stone. y/n stark. he wanted to stop making events like this so familiar. first his parents, then uncle ben. now you. the love of his life, the person he dreamed of marrying. some people see this as an unattainable fantasy because when you are young, they assume you know nothing. but peter was sure. you were supposed to be the one. his endgame. but you were gone. 

a hand tapped his shoulder revealing the familiar face of tony stark. seeing him made peter fall apart as tony pulled him into a tight embrace. peter finally let it all out. with his shoulders shaking with sobs and soft cries leaving his breathless lips, peter parker was finally showing his grief. 

grief was a fickle thing. it constantly changed. peter had been in such disbelief for the past months you were gone, but now he was trying to bargain with what happened. he gave his suit back to tony, he moved on from being spider-man, and tried living normally. he was trying to change himself for you. but it was hard. it took every amount of effort to bring himself out of his bedroom. the only thing that kept him going was the desire to do things you would want him to do. it didn’t take long for aunt may to take peter to a therapist. they could help him sort out the pain he was holding onto.

“tell me about her.”

“y/n was the perfect example of joy,” peter admitted with a desolate tone. “she was always looking to help anyone before herself. something she got from her dad. her hair always smelled amazing, like a garden almost. she liked to braid it, and stick flowers in it. y/n got the idea from tangled…” he paused, staring at the ground. he had planned a date before you went missing. he was going to take you to a lantern festival. where you could recreate the scene from tangled. peter knew how happy it would have made you. but you were gone. you’d never see the lanterns, you’d never live that dream.

“she had a cardigan… something she found at a thrift store, on the ground without a price tag. it had holes in the sleeves and she chose to patch them up with little stars. it was always too big on her, y/n always wore it with everything. i never saw her without it. she once forgot it when we left for a road trip, made me turn around to go get it for her but i was happy to,” a rare smile came onto peter’s face as he thought about the dimples on your cheek when he had put the cardigan around you. the smile faded,” it was the only thing they found when she went missing. it had blood on it and i know something bad happened.”

“i couldn’t stop it. i couldn’t save her.”

the woman in the chair across from him said nothing, just stared at peter as he avoided her gaze. after a couple moments, she began speaking,” you need to figure out a way to say goodbye to y/n. i understand how hard that may seem, but there are ways. i want you to write letters addressed to her. just start with something normal, you don’t have to address her death in the letter, just make it between you and her. the more you write these. the easier it’ll get to let go. “

peter stared at a blank piece of paper for hours that night. he didn’t know how to start. every time he picked up the pen his hand started shaking and he was too scared to write your name. with a frustrated groan, he jumped onto his bed, face buried in his hands. normally, peter would go to you to talk out his stress, to feel your arms around him but he couldn’t have that now. 

that’s when he took notice of your cardigan hung on the corner of his bed frame. he took it into his hands, letting out a sigh. it was the only thing he had left out you. the only part of you that was left behind. so peter put it around himself, pulling his arms into the sleeves. it felt like you had your arms around him again and gave him the boost he had been looking for. 

so he wrote:

my love y/n,  

i don’t want to talk about you being gone yet, just let me have this moment to tell you the things i didn’t say. you were perfect. you are still perfect. i know that sees unbelievable to you, but every moment i shared with you, i cherished like a child would cherish a new toy. 

except i never grew tired of you. you always came with new surprises. whether it was the time i thought you had never watched star wars and you admitted to being one of the biggest star wars nerds there is or the time i caught you crying to rom coms when we were friends, wishing you had that kind of romance. you were a hopeless romantic. mj said you were always looking for a disney prince of your own. i hope i was good enough to earn that title. i hope i gave you your dream love story. because every moment i spent with you was something exhilarating and i ever wanted to pass it up. 

 i just hope i was enough for you.

peter knew the letter was short, but he couldn’t bear to finish. tears marked the page with scratched out words and messy handwriting. he was supposed to write a letter every day. every day until he was able to say one word. goodbye. 

slowly he started getting there. very slowly. 

every day he wrote a new letter. they consistently got longer, but there were days it got short. he tried his best to avoid talking about you being gone. sometimes the letters were simple, saying i went to the grocery store for the first time in awhile. i saw your favorite snack and ended up buying it. i never liked it until now. i guess you influenced me so much.

there were harder days though. these days the paper would be stained with tears and may would come into his room and would find him crying. those letters always had the words “i miss you” and questioned why you had to go so soon. 

there was only one thing he always did when he was writing these letters. he was always wearing your cardigan. he even began wearing it just around the house or to school. may never failed to notice and would wash it for him to wear the next day when peter forgot. having the cardigan around him made him feel comfortable and safe. almost like you were right with him. he even wore it to his second visit with the therapist, four months after your disappearance 

“it’s getting easier to write the letters,” the brunette boy admitted, fiddling with the ends of the sleeves. “i’ve wrote so many already. it’s almost like i can still talk to her, even when she’s gone.” 

the woman smiled. “that’s good peter.”

“but remember, the goal isn’t to hold on, you have to let go. you have to say goodbye.” 

peter hated the sound of it. he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, he couldn’t imagine moving on from you because every day he still missed you more than anything. 

it took another six months for him to finally write a final letter. ten months after you had disappeared.

my love, y/n, 

this isn’t an easy one to write. these past few months have been hell but i’ve rolled with the punches. i just left flowers at your gravestone. chrysanthemums, your favorites. it’s always been hard seeing your name on that stone and not seeing you next to me.

i miss every inch of you, y/n. i miss the feeling of your lips on mine and the tender kisses you’d press on my neck. i miss watching you fall asleep, i miss running my hand over your back while you snored. i miss seeing your beautiful face, the one that never failed to make me smile. every time i see a star wars movie come on, i’m reminded of your constant rants about padmé and anakin’s romance and how badass all the women of star wars are. i even still think about the day i met you. we were just kids, and you pushed over some other little kids for me. i think that was the day i knew you were important. it only just now dawned on me.

and the best part about you was when i felt like an old cardigan, under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite. just like the one you used to always wear.

but i think the one thing i miss the most is just your voice. you always talked me to sleep on rough nights. it’s the same voice that got me through the trials of being a hero, the one that comforted me after hard patrols and nightmares. it was the one that sang ‘i can see the light’ from the lantern scene from tangled everytime we watched it. it’s the one i miss the most and i’d do anything to hear it again, y/n. 

but for now, it’s your turn to listen to me. and listen closely. i love you. you were my soulmate and i still think you are. i loved you then. i love you now. and i’ll love you forever. we’ll see each other again, because you always come back to me. you’re my angel. my love. my dream. my soulmate. my darling. the love of my life. we’re meant to be together. i know one day we’ll find each other. and when we do… i’ll never let go of you again. 

y/n stark, just do me a favor. keep on being you. wherever you are. i’ll keep on being me. i’ll carry on for you.

so now i just have to say one more word. one more word that isn’t forever because i know i’ll be with you. you’ll come back to me. i’ll come back to you. because loving you is like being drunk under a streetlight. it’s the thrill of living life and some kind of light near you. even without the light being right beside you. being in love with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. 

so here it is, y/n. here it is.

goodb- 

peter was interrupted as he wrote, a hard knock from the door of the apartment. for a second, he waited, but it came again. it sounded urgent by how heavy it was and how frantically the person was knocking. he stumbled out of the chair, leaving the open letter on his desk as he fumbled with the lock. once it opened, peter had begun thinking he was dreaming.

because the person standing in front of the door, was you. 

with his jaw slacking, peter rubbed his eyes trying to process what was in front of him. and to think he was about to write the word goodbye, and here you were, back from the dead. his eyes watered slightly as he opened his mouth to speak but no words came. he couldn’t comprehend the fact you were alive. “ y/n… no… how? how are you here? you were dead… this can’t be real.” everything hit him like an oncoming train, he was convinced he was dreaming or hallucinating. was this a test? was this testing him to see if he was actually prepared to say goodbye?

“you thought i was dead?” 

this was what brought peter back to reality. he fell to his knees so fast in front of you, the tears falling down without a doubt as sobs left his thin lips, the ones you used to kiss. everything from the past few months came pouring out. “you were dead. everyone gave up and i didn’t want to but i did. i gave up, i failed you. i did the one thing you told me not to do because i was weak. and i couldn’t hold myself together at your funeral…” you knelt down as he sobbed and choked out every word, pulling him to your chest. “i wanted you to be the one to help me, but you weren’t there. you weren’t here to hug me before and i tried holding on for you. i tried and i thought i was never going to get over it and move on and i never did. i never did, y/n ,because i love you and you are the only person who will be constant in my life even if you were to fall out of love.”

“and i wrote you letters. i wrote you so many letters. i was writing one… just before you came… it was the last one, y/n, the one where i was going to say goodbye and now here you are,” peter’s arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer.

“you don’t have to say goodbye anymore, pete,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head before he finally got a clear look at you. you looked no different than before. you had a a few bruises here and there, but you were alive. peter couldn’t believe just how much time passed and you were still the embodiment of beauty in his eyes. 

a smile formed on his face, a dimple showing on his cheek,”i knew you’d come back to me.” 

with that, he pressed his lips against yours, a hand moving up to cup your cheek as yours moved to his hair, running your hands through the messy brown curls. your lips were soft, just like they used to be and they tasted just like your favorite cherry chapstick that you used to always use. peter relished in the tender moment, butterflies coming alive in his stomach as he pressed his other hand on the small of your back. you both pulled away gently, eyes still closed with foreheads resting against each other.

“i love you,” you said gently, pressing a kiss to the tip of peter’s nose.

he returned it with his own, murmuring,” i love you more.” 

his heart fluttered in the comfortable silence and the air still held the same amount of love and adoration for each other as it did before. peter never wanted to give it up and he never wanted to let it go. with the cardigan still wrapped around his shoulders and your arms around him, for the first time in months, peter finally remembered how it feels to be secure and safe. 

you both finally stood up, fingers interlocked and right before you both headed inside, you glanced at peter and asked with a laugh:

“is that my cardigan?”

permanent taglist — @ariistotles​  @saturnpeter​ @skymoonandstardust​ @hey-its-grey​ @pufflypuffle​ @uglypastels​ @learning-howto-be-myselfx3​ @simi11​ @abby-blxck​ @pxterbpxrker​ @euphoricmads​ @neverlandparker​ @fairytaleparker​ @dahliaspidey​ @thegirlwiththeimpala​ @pterprkr​ @cosmicholland​ @theamazingtomholland​ @xoxohollands​ @screamholland​ @beiroviski​ @sunflowerhollands​

peter parker taglist — @myslightobsessions​

[teddy-bear-surprise]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞

You can read this story on AO3 or Wattpad too!

Peter Parker X Fem Reader

Description: A Pinch of Angst, Soft Peter Parker, Wholesome Peter Parker, Comforting Peter Parker… It’s a cute story, that’s basically it. Based on post-Far From Home but without the Daily Bugle incident. Spoiler alert: you’re Peter’s girlfriend… Just kidding that wasn’t a spoiler. But that’s basically all the backstory you need. Pls enjoy

Word Count: 5.6K

I would also like to take a moment to recommend the song "Down The Line" by José González since it's what inspired this story.

Before Peter left for his Summer class trip, he was the happiest kid in the world. Or, as happy as any kid whose father figure just died in an intergalactic battle could be. He could barely go one sentence without mentioning how “awesome” it would be to visit Europe. He and Ned had literally stayed up until 3 in the morning– more than once –because they couldn’t stop talking about Europe. He wanted to go on this trip so badly that he packed his bags a week early, which you and May knew was unprecedented for Peter. 

Honestly, everything seemed perfect. You and May dropped him off early at the airport, he remembered to bring his passport, and Ned brought snacks for the both of them. It all went as smoothly as it could, especially considering that you all woke up half an hour late because Peter made (and presented) a 59-slide Powerpoint presentation about Europe the night before his flight. 

The second Peter passed airport security, he started sending you photos of him hanging out with Ned. You saw the airport, and Europe, through Peter’s eyes. It was like seeing the world painted with brighter and newer colors, but it also could’ve been that hideous filter he puts on all of his photos. Still, you had never seen him so excited to be outside of Queens. 

Almost immediately after he got to Europe, Peter’s photos started coming in less frequently, his texts grew shorter, and his voice wavered on the phone. You knew all about the battles against inter-dimensional monsters, the entire world knew. He was undoubtedly tired after such big fights, and you stupidly thought that was the only reason he had been acting differently. You thought he was just tired. You thought he was just busy. You thought he was just having fun. It turns out, you were just plain wrong . 

  The airport doors slid open, and you saw Peter walk out as he waved goodbye to Ned. Aunt May stood excitedly beside you and waved her homemade sign at Peter who would never need any sign to recognize the two of you. He jogged over, and you rushed to meet him, embracing him in a tight hug. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and held you for what felt like an eternity. You rubbed small circles on Peter’s back, beyond relieved to see him again. May walked up and tapped Peter on the shoulder, giving him a playful look that said, “I can’t believe you hugged your significant other before you hugged me.” The two reunited, and May pestered him with a neverending stream of questions. Peter answered each one as vividly as possible, leading you to think that the change that happened while he was in Europe was all in your head. 

But when May joked about Peter’s lost luggage, you noticed something. He flinched. For a second, you couldn’t understand why Peter would be so upset about some lost luggage, but then you realized it. He had taken his Uncle Ben’s luggage with him to Europe, one of the last memories he had of Ben, and now it was gone. So though May couldn’t seem to care any less, you acknowledged that grief looked different for everyone.

Admittedly, Ben’s burnt bags weren’t the only thing bothering Peter. He seemed to let his guard down every few minutes, and the exhaustion, sadness, and despair would seep from his wide eyes. Peter didn’t seem to care that you could see, and maybe this was his way of asking you for help. But whenever May would glance at Peter through the rearview mirror, his walls would build right up again– turning him into a hollow, empty puppet with a smile plastered on its face. 

The whole ride home, you had to sit there and pretend you couldn’t tell. After May dropped you off at your house, you weren’t sure if you should text Peter or not. You wrote and rewrote a dozen messages to him, but none of them felt right. 

“Peter, are you okay?” Nope… too short. 

“Hey, Pete do you need to talk? I’m alwa–” Definitely not. Way too direct.

“I noticed you seemed a bit down. Is everything alright?” You sound like May. Ew. 

Ultimately, you never sent any of them. As much as you loved Peter and wanted to help him, you knew it wouldn’t do any good to rush him. So, you gave him some space and time. 

  Shockingly, for the first time since you had gone to pick him up at the airport, Peter asked you to come over. During the past two weeks, you had always been the one to initiate dates or conversations. And even though it felt like Peter had stopped loving you, you persisted, never confusing his pain for the loss of love. 

As usual, you and Peter invited May to join in on your movie night. And right on cue– only twenty minutes into the movie –she said she never wanted to watch another Star Wars film again and went to bed, leaving you both alone in the living room. After you finished watching Phantom Menace for the dozenth time, Peter laid out his collection of Star Wars DVDs, trying to decide if he wanted to watch the rest of the prequels or skip to another one of his favorites. 

Deep down, you felt like Peter had invited you over for a reason. That his intentions included more than a movie, that it meant he was ready to talk. You leaned down and laid a hand on his shoulder, and he froze, holding A New Hope tightly in his grip.

“Pete… Are you okay?”

He glanced back at you with confusion, “What do you mean? Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

“I don’t know, Pete. All I know is that you’ve been acting different since you got back from your trip.”

“Why would I be different?” He replied defensively, as though you had offended him. “I mean, i-if anything, you’re the one who’s being different.”

You saw tears well up in his eyes as he turned his back to you. “Peter, please just talk to me. I can tell that something’s off. I’m your girlfriend, for gosh sakes! I can tell! And you might think you have everyone else fooled, but….” You took a second to breathe, “but you can’t fool me.”

He shifted his weight and turned to face you, opening his mouth to speak. Still, nothing came out. Peter looked back at the ground, his silence prompting you to continue.

“I’m not sure if you wanted me to notice– or if you just didn’t care that I noticed –but I noticed. I gave you time, I waited for you to talk to me, and I thought that you inviting me over tonight meant that you were ready to talk.” Tears rolled down your face as you lowered your voice. “I’m sorry for caring, Peter, but I can’t pretend that you’re okay anymore… because you are clearly not okay.”

He fiddled with his hands, still avoiding looking at you. “I just wanted to watch a movie. I-I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but all I wanted was to watch a movie with my girlfriend a-a-and have a good night….”

Peter’s voice trailed off, and you chimed in. “It’s not just about a movie, Pete. And I can’t let you act like it was ever just about a movie. Let’s just talk for a bit and see what happens. I might not know what happened out there, but the one thing I know is that you’re a hero, Peter. You’re my hero. So please, just tell me what’s bothering you, and then we can move on.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Peter. Something isn’t right and you can’t keep it inside forever.”

“I-It’s really nothing. There’s no use talking about it anyway, it won’t change what happened.”

“That’s a start… What happened then? What’s so bad that you can’t even tell your girlfriend?” He shook his head and you asked again, “Peter, c’mon. You can tell me. What happened?”

“Can you please stop asking?” He played with his fingers, his eyes still fixated on a dent in the floorboard.

“I can’t stop. Because if I stopped, that would mean I stopped loving you. And I don’t think that’ll ever happen. Not in this lifetime.”

Peter looked sadly at you, tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks. “I did everything right. I tried to do everything right. And I still… I messed up so bad. London would still be fine if it wasn’t for me. Did you know that?” He let out a sad, sarcastic chuckle. “London was all my fault.”

“Peter, you saved London. You di–”

Peter cut you off, running his hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t have had to save London if I hadn’t given E.D.I.T.H. to Beck.”

You looked at him in disbelief and it finally hit you how little you knew about the situation. But before Peter could see the shock in your eyes, you changed your expression, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Quentin tricked me. I-I guess I was so stupid that I let him trick me and I gave E.D.I.T.H. to him and that’s why he was able to attack London. A-and I’m the reason that attack happened in the first place! I’m the reason a hundred people died! I’m the reason th-that Beck almost tricked the whole world! Tony never should’ve given me E.D.I.T.H.… Beck could’ve killed like a million peo–”

“Peter.” You squeezed his shoulder, “You can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t let him kill a million people and now he never will, because you stopped him. Tony gave you E.D.I.T.H. because he trusted you, and he was right to do so. You figured out that Beck was bad before Paranoid Fury even doubted him, just think about that. You figured it out before Paranoid Fury. That’s incredible. And I know you think you don’t deserve E.D.I.T.H., but no one else could have taken down Beck on their own. Not like you did. So, like it or not, you’re kind of the best superhero we’ve got.”

You opened your arms, beckoning for him to sit back on the sofa with you. Peter gave you a teary smile and climbed onto the sofa, leaning into your arms. You cradled his head as he cried into your shoulder, his tears staining your sweater. 

“It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” For almost ten minutes, he lay in your arms as you repeated the reassuring phrase.

His breathing slowed and his eyes dried once more, though they were still red and puffy. Peter released himself from your embrace and laid across your lap, looking up and into your eyes.

“I gotta go hit the head.”

You looked at Peter with confusion, “I’m sorry, what? Did you really just say ‘hit the head’?”

“What? It’s a totally normal phrase.” He pouted at you.

“Just say you ‘need to go to the bathroom’ like a normal person… Oh m-you totally stole that from Fury or Cap didn’t you? Which one was it?”

Peter suddenly seemed very embarrassed, “Fury…”

“I knew it! Now go to the bathroom, weirdo. I’ll be waiting for you so we can choose our next movie.”

“‘Kay. Be right back”

Peter rushed out and somehow came back from the bathroom within a minute.

“I think I know which movie I wanna watch.” He flashed a shy smile at you.

“I don’t care what you wanna watch unless you washed your hands.”

Peter whined, “But I did wash them.”

“There’s literally no way you washed your hands and went to the bathroom in less than a minute. That would be impossible.”

“I totally did wash my hands, but I guess I could wash them again.” 

“Good to hear. So, what movie did you wanna watch, Parker?”

Peter handed you the same A New Hope DVD that he had dropped onto the sofa ten minutes prior. You rolled your eyes at him, holding the movie from the corner using only your pointer and thumb. As a condition, you told him he had to wash his hands in the kitchen sink (so you could watch him) before you would start the movie. After he did his part, you placed the disc into the DVD player and looked back at Peter while you waited for the film to appear onscreen. 

“Hey, Peter.” He lifted his head from the sofa’s cushions and propped it up, on one hand, waiting to hear what you had to say. “I know I was just joking around a few minutes ago, but I have to say something serious again. Next time something like this happens, you have to let it out. Whether that means talking to me, May, or Ned, you can’t let this-this darkness eat you up. Because, frankly, there’s a whole lifetime of darkness down the line and that’ll be the case for the rest of eternity. But what always made you different from Bucky, or Tony, or Cap, or any of them, is that you’ve never let yourself get caught up with that ‘darkness’. So don’t give up now. I know it’s a tough fight– well I’ll never know– but still, you can’t let the darkness take your shine away. You are the funniest, most intelligent, and kindest person I’ve ever met. Please, just don’t let anyone or anything ever take that from you.”

You had been staring at the coffee table between you and Peter this whole time and when you tilted your head back up in Peter’s direction, you noticed how shocked he seemed. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes maintained a soft gaze as if he was struggling to process this information. Peter sat up and grabbed a pillow from beside him, hugging it tightly to his chest. 

“I-I–” Peter was on the verge of saying something but was cut off by the film’s characteristic intro music. 

As the movie started, you crawled back up onto the sofa with Peter, and this time you rested your head on the pillow in his lap. You grew tired after the first hour and drifted to sleep, though Peter was still wide awake by the end. He let you sleep comfortably, still resting your head upon his lap as he stroked your cheek. Soon after, Peter dozed off as well, still sitting tall.

  The next morning, May saw that you were both still sound asleep and since it was already close to noon, she thought waking you up would be a great idea. She crept up behind the sofa, walking slowly and quietly until she was right behind both of you. May leaned over the sofa, peering down at your sleeping figures, and yelled while waving her arms wildly.

“WAKE UP! THERE’S ALIENS AGAIN! LOKI IS HERE! AAAHHHHH!”

Peter jumped up, knocking May over and dropping you onto the ground where you woke momentarily before closing your eyes and rolling under the coffee table. He turned left and right looking for aliens and destruction, still in a half-asleep daze. 

“Where are they!?!” He ran into his room, slamming the door open and throwing his belongings everywhere. “I can’t find my suit! MAYYYYYY! Where– Ohhhhh.”

He calmed down the second he took a look outside, realizing that May had just pranked him. “Haha. Very funny May,” said Peter sarcastically.

He walked back into the living room where May was still sitting on the ground and you had fallen asleep again. May laughed at Peter and gave him a pat on the back as he helped her up.

“I thought that was pretty funny, didn’t you? I mean, definitely not my best work, but not bad for a prank that only took five seconds of planning.”

Sass dripped from Peter’s words, “Mhmm. Sooooo funny, May. That totally wasn’t cruel at all. If I didn’t know any better, I might even say that was borderline emotional abuse.”

“Oh hush, Peter. You know it’s all just jokes and love with me.”

Peter laughed at May and went around to the other side of the couch where he had dropped you on the floor. You were a deep sleeper, both a blessing and a curse in a city that actually got attacked by one of the big three every other week. Peter crouched down, lowering himself onto his hands and knees until he came face to face with you. 

He set a hand on your back, shaking you gently. “Hey, sleepyhead. Do you wanna wake up? It’s almost lunchtime… I know how much you love lunch.”

Your eyes opened slowly and a smirk appeared on your lips, “Did you say ‘lunch’?”

  You and Peter were getting ready to go out with May for a fun Sunday brunch-lunch. While he and May had inherited some money from Tony, they only let themselves spend it on Sundays. They decided they wanted to try out some weird and somewhat fancy French restaurant in Chelsea and invited you to go along with them. The only problem was that you forgot to pack an overnight bag and had nothing to change into. 

“Uhhhh, Peter. You wouldn’t happen to have any extra clothes lying around that I could borrow? Maybe, just like for today? Pants and a shirt would work just fine, like literally anything.”

“I have to-uhhhh I have to check. Yeah. I have to check… Just give me a minute here.” Peter started pacing around his room, digging through piles of unfolded laundry. “Change of plans, I’m gonna check with May. I can’t seem to find anything nice.”

As Peter walked out of the room he placed his cell phone on his bedside table. A horrible idea flashed through your mind and before you could think it through, you already had Peter’s phone in your hands. You racked your brain trying to remember his passcode until you remembered what a fanboy he was. The passcode was 1999, the year The Phantom Menace came out. And while you didn’t agree that it was the best of the Star Wars movies, you let him think that you did. 

You scrolled through Peter’s contacts, looking for Happy Hogan, but unfortunately, he had replaced everyone’s names with emojis. Basically, he had made it impossible for anyone other than him to access his contacts list. Remembering that the text app would let you search for keywords from old conversations, you typed in “Hi, Happy. It’s Peter.” knowing that there was an extremely high chance that Peter had sent his first text to Happy in that format. Just as you had suspected, one conversation appeared. The contact name had a smiling emoji followed by a little house and a wrestler. You clicked on the contact info and it displayed Happy’s phone number. Grabbing your own phone from your pocket, you copied down the number before exiting out of the text app and placing Peter’s phone exactly where it had been before. 

You sat down on Peter’s bed, surrounded by his laundry, and waited for him to return. While you waited, you started drafting a message to Happy. 

“Hey, Happy… it’s me, Peter’s girlfriend. I kinda need a favor so if you could maybe give me a call sometime that would be really great. Thanks!” It looked and sounded horrible, but frankly, it was the only thing you could come up with. 

  Four days later, Happy called you, and he wasn’t very happy about it. 

“Okay, kid. What do you want? And make it quick because Pepper’s got me working way more than I get paid for.”

Despite your preparation, your anxiety got the best of you when you realized you would actually have to speak with Happy. “Oh, um hi Mr. Happy. So basically I need your help to surprise Peter–”

Happy interrupted you, “What? Why do you need my help?”

“Well, you see, Peter lost his uncle Ben’s luggage when he went to Europe, and Peter has a very strong emotional connection to the bag because Ben is dead. Oh gosh, that sounded really bad. But what I’m trying to say is that I need your help to recreate uncle Ben’s bag so I can surprise Peter for his birthday!”

 “That’s it? You could’ve just texted me and I would already have the bag in production. Geez. I’ll see if I can find any photos of the bag in the Stark Database, but send me over what you have to speed things up, alright? Talk to ya later, kid.”

He had hung up before you could even thank him. His bluntness made sense considering he had a lot on his plate, grief included, so you decided to find as many photos of Ben’s luggage as you could to make his job easier. You texted May asking about the bag, saying that you were just curious, and omitted your secret. To your surprise, May actually had detailed photos of the bag from when Ben bought it to take on their honeymoon. You thanked her repeatedly and immediately sent the photos to Happy who merely replied with a thumbs-up emoji. 

  August tenth approached quickly and before you knew it, Peter’s birthday was there. Happy had someone drop off the replica at your apartment and you were suddenly very thankful that Peter was too busy to randomly swing by anymore. Whoever wrapped the suitcase made sure that it was very obviously a suitcase, they even wrapped the handle separately from the rest of the bag. Who even does that?

You hauled the luggage up the steep stairs leading up to your apartment, wondering why Peter would take such an inconvenient item with him. Then, it hit you again. First, he’s Spider-Man so the bag probably felt light as a feather to him. And second, emotions influence people into making weird decisions. You ran to unwrap it as soon as you shut your front door. Ripping off the thick brown paper, the luggage’s natural, and beautiful, navy blue shone through. You marveled at the leatherwork and the shiny “B.F.P.” embossed between the buckles. This bag was something you had seen time and time again at Peter’s apartment, yet it wasn’t until now that you realized just how beautiful it was. 

After heading out to a local craft store to get some nicer wrapping paper and a real box, you returned home to wrap up Peter’s present. Despite your best efforts to not wrap his present up the same way as the idiot who wrapped it the first time, your wrapping job ended up looking minimally better. The only redeeming part was the wrapping paper. Unfortunately, you had mismeasured and just the handle did not fit into the box, sticking out ever so slightly and creating a noticeable lump in the wrapping paper. You brainstormed for nearly an hour, testing out a dozen different ideas before you realized what you needed, was a bow. You returned to the craft store, digging through bins of bows, ribbons, and yarns until you found a giant blue bow made of at least thirty thin ribbons. The finishing touch fixed all of your worries and made Peter’s present look like a really showy box, which was exactly what you were going for. 

  On the day of Peter’s birthday party, you had to drag his huge gift box across five blocks, through two line changes, and in the dark. Peter decided that since he was turning 17, though he would have been 22 if he hadn’t blipped, he deserved a “big boy” party, and apparently, that meant having a party at night time. By the time you arrived at Avenger’s Tower, where he said would “be the absolute best spot to have a birthday bash”, the bottom of the wrapping paper had gotten ripped off and only the cardboard remained. For a split second, you wished that you had kept the bag’s handle outside of the wrapping paper, but ultimately, you knew that wrapping it the way you did would make surprising Peter much more fun. 

You took the elevator up to one of the top floors, accompanied by Ned and Bruce Banner. The entire ride up, not a single word was spoken, and the corny elevator music served only to intensify the awkwardness. The three of you rushed out when the doors opened, not even waiting for the elevator voice to finish telling you what floor you were on. Banner went straight to the sofa area where Thor and Valkyrie were talking. You and Ned, however, teamed up to look for Peter.

“So, uh, what’s in the box?” Ned pointed to the present you were dragging across the smooth tile.

“It’s just Peter’s present.”

“Well, yeah. I know that, but like,” Ned lowered his voice and covered his mouth, “what’s in it?”

“It’s a surprise, Ned. I can’t tell you because then you’ll just tell Peter and then it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

“Ooohhhh, gotcha. Gotcha. Surprise, huh? Are you sure you can’t tell me? I promise I won’t tell Peter.”

You looked at Ned, “I’m sure, Ned. Now help me figure out where to put this box, it’s kinda heavy and I don’t like lugging it around.”

Ned helped you with the box, carrying both his and your presents until you came across the present table. May was in charge of the table and took the presents gladly. 

“Hi, May! Have you seen Peter around?” You asked her.

“Sorry kiddos, I haven’t seen him since Thor got here. Did you check the lounge area? That’s where Thor always hangs out so he might still be over there.”

Ned chimed in this time, “Nah, he’s not there. Mr. Thor was though. I’m sure we’ll find him later. Thanks, Ms. Parker!”

The two of you left May at the table, looking all over for Peter. Finally, you found him on the upper level of the room talking to Shuri. He waved at you and Ned to join him, motioning to the stairs to his left. 

You started a conversation as you climbed the stairs, “Hey, Pete! Hey, Shuri! How are y’all doing?” 

“Good! Hurry up or you’ll miss the fireworks,” Shuri urged you and Ned to hurry up.

Peter turned to Shuri and rolled his eyes, “Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell them, I wanted them to think it was a surprise, not that we planned it!”

Ned chimed in, “What? Did you want us to think you had a secret admirer? Because we all know that Flash is your only admirer.”

You high-fived Ned for his great comeback, though you couldn’t help but correct him. “Excuse me, but I like to consider myself the best Peter Parker admirer. Flash is only a Spidey admirer. There’s a difference!”

The four of you hung out on the balcony for the rest of the night, occasionally chatting with other Avengers or friends that happened to pass along. You could tell that Peter and Ned were missing MJ at the party, but her parents had decided to move to a more rural area immediately after the trip, making it near impossible for her to come to the party. Still, along with Shuri’s help, you were able to keep Ned and Peter happy and entertained until it was time for cake and presents. 

  Everyone gathered around the long, glass table with Peter sitting at the very front. You and Ned each stood on either side of him, while May stood immediately behind him. Barton walked into the room carrying a large, two-tiered cake that was decorated like Tony’s arc reactor. Peter had asked for it specifically, as one last tribute to Tony. Originally, Scott had offered to bake the cake, claiming that baking was one of the many talents he acquired while on house arrest. It turned out, that Scott only thought he was a good baker because he was the only one eating his treats and had grown accustomed to the bad tastes and textures. Luckily, May had asked Scott to bring her a sample a week before the party, so we still had enough time to ask Clint’s wife to help us instead. 

Sam lit the seventeen candles on the cake quickly, only stopping when Bucky added an eighteenth candle for “good luck”. Leading the awkward celebration, Scott began singing “Happy Birthday”; the other Avengers followed awkwardly. Thor sang louder than everyone else despite not knowing the lyrics, and Shuri joined him. Barton, Fury, Hill, and Bucky all stood awkwardly while lipsyncing the words. You, May, Sam, Ned, Bruce, Hope, Happy, Pepper, Morgan, and Strange were the only ones singing normally, though normal was never a great descriptor for any of Peter’s “coworkers”.  Peter blew out his candles shyly as the song came to a close and muttered “thank you” under his breath when he realized they hadn’t put trick candles on his cake this time. 

Thor’s booming voice cut through the chatter, “Well, Midguardian, when can we see these gifts of yours? I am quite interested in knowing what marvels lie on that table.”

“Oh. Ummm. Sorry, Mr. Thor, I wasn’t really planning on opening those at the party. It was going to be more of a private thing… like just me.”

“Nonsense, young one! You should open them all here. In front of your friends! We will not judge if you receive odd gifts, why that only makes it more exciting!”

Peter looked anxiously between you, Ned, and Shuri, trying to see if any of you had gotten him embarrassing gifts that might require privacy. Ned and Shuri shook their heads reassuringly, and although your gift was not embarrassing, you weren’t sure it warranted an audience.

You leaned down to Peter’s ear and whispered to him, “My present isn’t really embarrassing or inappropriate or anything, but it’s a bit special. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take it off the table and hide it so Thor doesn’t make you open it. Is that alright?”

Peter looked up at you, grabbing your hand, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. To be honest, I don’t feel like opening any of them in front of a crowd. But go do what you have to, I’ll keep him distracted for a minute.”

You thanked Peter and slipped away. As you were walking towards the gift table you heard Peter yelling something about cake, followed by Thor, Scott, and Sam cheering. Whatever it was, it was probably going to distract them for longer than you needed. You dug around looking for your box, finding it hidden under a dozen gift bags. Carefully, you moved each gift bag to the side until you could pull the box from the pile. You fixed the table, leaving it almost the same as you had found it, and looked around for a place to hide your present. Towards the end of the hallway, you found the perfect hiding spot beneath a wide leather chair. You hid the box and returned quickly to the party, hoping that no one noticed your absence.

  After everyone had gone home, and May had fallen asleep on Thor’s favorite sofa, you finally gave Peter his present. He ripped the torn, dusty, and grimy wrapping paper away from the gift, pulling chunks of the cardboard box along with it. 

The second he laid eyes on the dark blue leather and brown handle, he knew what you had gotten him. “Oh my… No way…”

Peter didn’t even wait to finish opening the present before pulling you into a warm embrace. He hugged you tightly and you felt a tear hit your back.

“I’m really hoping those are happy tears.”

Peter pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Definitely happy tears.”

“Good, because I really wasn’t planning on this being a sad moment.”

“How? W-How did you even get this? I thought I had lost it, or-or gotten it blown up! Oh my gosh… I-I still can’t believe this. Thank you so much! Really. Thank you.” Peter released his grip on your shoulders, moving his hands up slowly until they cupped your face. He looked solemnly into your eyes, waiting for a look of agreement, before kissing you softly.

“You’re welcome, Pete. But just so you know, it's just a replica. I'm not quite sure what happened to the real bag… you should thank Happy too, he helped me figure this all out.”

“I’ll definitely thank him later. But seriously, this might be one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.”

You smiled at his giddiness and joked, “I would hope so, I’m the one who gave it to you!”

“I don’t want to get all sappy, but thank you for not letting the darkness get to me. If it hadn’t been for your little pep-talk, I might still be letting that darkness eat at me, and I’m guessing that wouldn’t be great. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. No matter how much bad there is down the line, I don’t ever wanna feel like that again. I love you so much, and I’m so thankful that you’re in my life. I mean it.”

“I know, and I love you too, I love you through the Blip and back.”

{can someone lmk if this story is any good? I’m having some doubts 😭}