#he's undiagnosed bipolar disorder it's very apparent to me and everyone around him

[cosmicangsts]

a 3 year toxic & abusive friendship just ended y'all! he literally got mad at me for spending MY money i set aside ages ago for something i wanted ( acheron ) & today msged me an ultimatum about our friendship while putting me down, expecting me to piss shit & cry & i DIDN'T & instead stood my ground & called him out on being a controller who doesn't see me as a person with a savior complex so he DIPPED! ♡ ( not without the classic ' i'm sorry u feel that way ' & ' caring for my friend is NOT a savior complex ' & making it all about himself u best believe it was OUTSTANDING but i literally don't care i've cried so much over u )

if the new trend is a breakup at the start of every year & it means decluttering my life of incessant negativity, then honestly i am HERE FOR IT

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

It Takes Two to Tango

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader 

Warnings: Language, guns, knives, violence, self destructive behavior, mentions of mania and depression, mentions of bipolar disorder, descriptions of tattoo guns, slight slut shaming maybe, a bong, allusion to corrupt government, mentions of prostitution, mentions of parental neglect, and mentions of piercings.

Word Count: 6.5k

Songs: Drew Barrymore- SZA, No Role Modelz- J.Cole, Baby Blue- Action Bronson, Little Dark Age- MGMT, Gansta- Kehlani, Shutter Island- Jessie Reyez, Good Days-SZA, King’s Dead, Kendrick Lamar, and Saint Bernard- Lincoln.

“Which was odd because usually he talks the most on these rides. After we got over the initial awkwardness of the whole fire and Vulture thing we fell back into the way of things. Well if he was going to play this game I would too because what’s that saying? It takes two to tango.”

A/N: Hold on tight a lot goes down and it’s not looking up anytime soon. 

Series Masterlist  Previous Part   Next Part 

I was running faster than I’d ever had before the heels I had been trying on? Not helping my case. Since this is apparently my brand now I backed myself up onto the edge of the building. 

I had a gun trained on me.

“Come with us Y/N please,” 

“No! Who the fuck is Y/N?”

“Don’t play dumb ma’am we’ve done extensive research on you and we see you’ve done the same with us,” 

I rolled my eyes.

“Fuck you! I have no idea what you’re talking about and this is harassment,”

“You’re cornered there’s no way out,” 

The man wasn’t going to shoot me. No one would’ve come all the way out here and have chased me for this long when they had a gun if they were really planning on killing me. They would’ve done it already. And if this was who I thought it was I was not going with them. 

“Just come with us, we’re on your side, we’re not trying to hurt you,” That sounds exactly like someone who was going to hurt me would say.  

“Yeah says the man who has a gun aimed at me,” I rolled my eyes. 

“This is simply a safety precaution, just make this easier for everyone,” 

I looked back at him before making my decision. I was getting the hell out of here now. 

I bent backwards towards the street underneath me. Instead of free falling I put my hands behind me going into a backbend kickover grabbing onto the ledge. 

Using my legs as a propeller I launched myself closer to the wall. I’d gotten lucky and the walls had protruding bricks that I could scale. 

The man who I think was from SHIELD was hot on my tail. So I had to move fast. I scaled my way to the nearest balcony jumping into the pool in a leap of faith. 

I’d made it in thankfully. Guess my story wasn’t over.

Then I had to run. I was running down the streets. Thankfully this was New York and no one would bat an eye at someone who was drenched head to toe running down the street. They’d just pass me off as another nut job and go about their day. 

So much has happened I feel like this is an episode of shameless. You really were too busy to tune in last week you skank ass bitch? I almost died twice and I still managed to check in, whatever, just pay attention to the next clip. 

“So that building exploded and that loud siren noise I think I told you about was going off in my ears and when I left the plane with Vulture and Spidey were fighting by a crashed plane and Vulture put too much power onto his wings and they were gonna blow up. And I got mad like fucking top of the anger iceberg mad. So when I was like on the verge of blacking out like fucking fire came out of my hands and disintegrated those wings. Like they turned to ash before my very eyes. Then I had a panic attack of course and that’s pretty much it,” 

“Uh… I just called you here to tell you I found something about that SHIELD guy who came after but, I’m glad you’re okay,” Felicia told me.

“Sorry… I guess I got too excited,” 

“What'd you find?” I moved over to her in her spinning chair. 

“Look and see for yourself,” She moved out the way.

I sighed plopping down onto the small twin bed.

“I know what you’re doing,” I said, picking up a piece of popcorn. 

“What are you talking about?” Carmen asked as if she was genuinely confused. 

“You’re trying to trick me into eating and sleeping, which is totally not fair because if I want to wallow in self pity I should be able to,” 

“I know what happens when it gets bad and I’m not letting you get there again,”

I sighed again. She is always claiming that she sees herself in me and she wants me to be the best version of myself. 

She acts like since she’s one year older than me that she’s my mentor or something.

 Plus she also thinks I have an undiagnosed and untreated bipolar disorder so who’s to say everything else she says isn’t a lie also. 

We were watching a Wrinkle in Time and I knew I was going to cry when the girl’s dad came back. I always did and I didn’t want to cry today. 

“Wanna go do something?”

“Sure... Where are we going?” 

“Out,” 

I tried on a lot of Carmens clothes and ended up wearing the most extravagant outfit I’d ever worn. I felt extremely giddy for no reason in particular. I was wearing a puffy skirt and corset. We were walking about the streets of Brooklyn with no clear destination in mind just talking.

“I just find it funny that all you have to do to be famous on Tiktok is be white and skinny like smoke a cigarette in a subway station or some shit,”

“Why don’t we get famous?” 

“Now how would we get famous,” I poked. 

“I’m offended that you don’t think we could,” She stopped on the side of the street. 

“Gimme your phone,” She demanded in a kind way.

I plopped it into her palm. 

I’d honestly forgotten where I was for a second because I’d zoned out yet again. She put the phone back in my hand and she had made a Tiktok account for the both of us. 

She was only checking to see if I liked the account name because she took the phone right back afterwards.

I didn’t mind. 

“I should get a tattoo right?” I asked, putting another one of the chamoy gummy worms in my mouth. 

“How many do you have now?” 

“I think like twelve?”

“And that’s not enough for you?”

“Noo! I like the ones I have. I just want a bigger one.” 

“Then do it?” 

We were actually in walking distance of a tattoo parlour I just didn’t trust them. Never cheat on your nail tech or hairstylist and it goes the same for tattoo artists. 

Two subway rides later we were in Queens. I walked up to the front desk and was about to ask for my go to artist but she walked out the back room before I had the chance.

“Y/N, ‘s that you?” She asked. 

“The one and only,” I twirled around in my dress. 

“This dress is very different than your usual style but I can’t say I don’t love it,” She pulled at the fabric then glanced up her eyes, lighting up in recognition. She gasped “Is this Carmen?” 

I nodded “My bad lemme introduce you to each other. Carmen this is Enchantress and you already know Carmen apparently,” 

I’d played a Russian roulette sort of thing with my tattoo Pinterest board just clicking one with my eyes closed. Then there was the buzzing of the gun moving along my skin. Puncturing it in a way that felt extremely bittersweet. 

I never understood people who said tattoos hurt. I could always barely feel them. They felt like a simple scrape over your skin. Also at this shop they still give you the wrapping for your tattoo but it’s filled with ink still so you can move it around in the bubble. I like messing with the ink sack. I think that’s why I come here so often.

I was admiring the tattoo on my lower abdomen in the mirror when I was startled.  

“Wait!” Enchantress exclaimed, starling me “I just realized you got a piercing. Come here,” She beckoned. 

She turned towards me 

“It’s actually super straight, did you do this?” 

I opened my mouth to respond when Carmen answered for me.

“No, some girl did it for her in her school bathroom,” I really gotta stop telling her everything. She’s always snitching on me.

“I want to be mad but I can’t because it actually looks super healthy,” She titled my chin up to get a better view “However if it gets infected I’m beating your ass,” 

We exited the shop after I paid well, Carmen paid but I’ll pay her back. There was a pretty hefty discount too, because Enchantress loved me apparently, I loved her too. She’s an older sister figure like my role model. I mean she was when I was a few years younger. I think I’ve grown out of role models.

I felt a sharp uncomfortable sensation in my body which sort of felt like those anxiety brain zaps but located in my abdomen. 

I looked behind me and there was something off about this man who was standing a few feet behind me. I accidently made eye contact with him and he bolted off. 

Weird. 

“Y/N are you even listening to me?” 

“Huh,” I turned in Carmen’s directions “Sorry what'd you say?” 

“I was saying that since you got a tattoo, I’m gonna cut and dye my hair,” 

“Cool what color?” 

“I don’t know yet let’s go just to CVS ‘nd decide there,” 

I was sitting on the kitchen counter behind the chair Carmen was in as I applied the bleach to her hair singing along to the song playing. 

Why is it so hard to accept the party is over?

You came with your new friend

And her mom jeans and her new Vans

I set the bowl of hair bleach onto the counter hopping down to get ready for my favorite part of the song. 

And she's perfect and I hate it 

I sang it loudly moving my hands around like I always do releasing my energy. It was almost like therapy. Who am I kidding SZA is therapy. 

I used the bathroom and I couldn’t find soap. I looked under the cabinet and found the soap. I also found something else I wasn’t expecting to see. I brought it back into the kitchen with me.

“You have a hello kitty bong?”

She grabbed it from my hands examining it. 

“Well actually I stole it from my sister,” 

“No way, this is Dinah’s? Because she just got ten times cooler,” 

“All I know was she got back in college, then she just stopped using it,” 

I finished Carmen’s hair which for some reason she trusted me enough to cut curtain bangs for her honestly they didn’t look too bad. It was just very time consuming. 

“Okay but are you sure, how’d you know he’s gay?” Harry questioned leaning back to look at the kid again. 

“Just watch,” I raised my voice just enough for him to be able to hear me “Charlie!” 

He turned around as if he were stunned that I was talking to him. 

“Who me?” He asked.

“Yes you,”

“Oh,”

“So can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah sure I guess…”

“What’s your favorite Percy Jackson book?”

“The answer Lightning Thief is pretty basic but it’s my favorite or maybe the Titan’s Curse, I’m not sure,” 

“Okay cool, thank you,” I turned back to face Harry “See,” 

“That doesn’t prove anything but okay,”

“He knew more than one book in the Percy Jackson series that tells me all I need to know,” 

“I know more than one Percy Jackson book,” He eyed me.

“Yeah and you’re gay,”

He just huffed. Got him there. 

“He still wouldn’t fuck you though,” I sat tucked my legs underneath me.

“Whatever shouldn’t you be in your class? Which is it again?”

“Physics,” 

“Oh…”

“Oh what? Don’t oh me,” 

“You’re avoiding Peter,” 

“I’m not avoiding Peter,” I totally was. Just Harry thinks I’m doing it because I like him. I didn’t tell him that but I might've let him believe it, because how do you even go about telling someone Hey I’m avoiding the person because fire came out of my body and they saw it.  I’d sound insane. 

As I was walking to the gym and by to, I mean away from, but that’s not the point, I could’ve sworn I saw the same man from Saturday in the window near the crowd of students. 

Accompanied by the same gut feeling. 

I pushed my way into the gym. To avoid him. I bumped into someone. Off instinct I got defensive but then I heard an 

“Oh, sorry. Sorry!” Once they’d turned around I realized it had been Peter. Just my luck. 

“You’re fine that was basically my fault anyway,” 

I was going to just walk over to one of my friends but they weren’t here and Liz literally just left the school. So I had no escape. 

Well there was one escape. There’s always a way out.

“Y/N!” The female gym coach called. 

“Yes?” I rolled my eyes.

“Where are your gym clothes?” 

“Probably in the locker room...” 

“Why aren’t you wearing them?”

“I didn’t feel like it,”

“You need to change for your grade, participation is important,” 

I picked up my backpack off the floor before pushing open the doors to the girls locker room. Instead of going towards my locker I headed straight for the metal doors leading into the hallway. I went to the space I always seemed to drift to when I had nowhere else to go. 

The teachers bathroom. 

I know that sounds weird but it’s the only one I can lock. I stole a key a while back when I went to get my phone back from one of the teachers. 

I guess Carmen was a psychic or something because one of the videos she’d posted on our group account of us eating in the dresses, me getting that tattoo, and dying Carmen’s hair had blown up. 

I did not see her take any of the clips but the proof was right in front of me. 

The video had half a million views and I assumed that was because of all the comments helping pushing the algorithm.

Some of them were nice like

hey lol 

you’re both gorgeous omg 

That tattoo is cool af 

I want to be you 

I should pay you to do my hair lmao

I can't tell if i want to be you

The other half were like 

No child should be getting a tattoo you look so young

That is the devils sign I’m praying for you. 

Why please Go To God✝️✝️🙏🏻🙏🏻♥️

Im praying for you 

At first I was confused as to why half of the comments were people praying. Then I realized it was because Carmen had on her pentagram necklace. 

I’m definitely not complaining about the comments though because they got me that many views, likes, and follows, but the ignorance upsets me. A pentagram only represents Earth, Air, Water, and Fire it’s about balance. 

 I think it’s cool, kinda like the Avatar. It has nothing to do with Satan. I didn’t really want to think about Fire. I was still freaking out about Friday. It hadn’t happened again so maybe I dreamt it or something. 

Somehow I spent the rest of gym and half of what should’ve been me heading to detention responding to every Christian’s comment with something dumb or witty. 

I was walking towards the detention room and was startled by Peter. Again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yes?” 

“Um… this is gonna sound insane but,” he paused looking down fiddling with his hands. 

My face twisted up in confusion as to why he still hadn’t spoken. 

“Are you gonna to speak…”

“Oh. Oh!” He looked back up “Yeah you remember my internship right?”

“Yeah…” I guess he was going to act like I didn’t know about him being Spiderman again.

“So now Mr. Stark is interested in you and wants you to come with me upstate,”

“Why me?” 

“I’m not sure, but if you’re coming someone is outside waiting for us,” 

I’m sure this was just another attempt to lure me into some SHIELD mess. However Peter had no idea about Thorn or any of the other fucked up shit I’d done. So it would look suspicious if I didn’t go. Because what kid or any other person wouldn’t want to meet Tony Stark. 

“Okay then, what are we waiting for?” 

The ride there was completely silent. I spent the whole time texting Carmen as she complained about her boyfriend. I really hated him oh my God. Peter had gone into the building about 15 minutes ago. 

“Okay, if he’s always getting on your nerves and trying to control you why are you still with him?” I asked in the snap meant for Carmen. 

“You know why, I’m not going to say it because then you’d get mad at me,” She sent a video back.

“Thank you I do not want to hear about your boyfriends dick-,” I was interrupted by a knock on the window “Okay I can’t talk got to go,” I sent the video before sliding across the seat pushing the door open. 

“What happened?” I asked as Peter sat back in the car. 

“It was a test,” He said, providing no further elaboration. 

The back window was rolled down and the guy who drove us here. Happy, I think. There is no way that was his real name. He stuck his face in the window. 

“Hey, the boss wants to see you now,” 

I turned back to Peter and whispered.

“The boss? Am I about to walk into some mafia meeting,” 

He just laughed at that. 

“We don’t have much time,” Happy urged. 

As we began walking the halls of the giant building as I pocketed random trinkets that I could sell for a quick buck. 

“So what’s your real name?” I asked Happy since this whole time he was leading me it was a silent ride. 

He continued to ignore me.

So I asked again. I could tell from his body language that I was getting on his nerves. 

I asked twice more and by the time the last sentence came out of my mouth we’d already reached our destination. He walked away not before mumbling a quick I hate kids. 

“Y/N it’s nice to meet you,” Tony greeted as he reached out to shake my hand. I allowed it.

“You’re a lot shorter in person,” I pointed out after releasing his hand. 

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” He reached for a bowl putting something in his mouth. “Grape?” He offered.

“No thank you,” Not like they’d be poisoned  or anything, no one had even gotten the chance to question me yet. Also there was the fact that he was eating them but this could be a Princess Bride situation. Not taking any chances. 

“Okay,” He clapped, dusting his hands. “Let’s get to the point now,” 

“So I’ve been informed that you had an instance with pyrokinesis,” He continued after I nodded. “I was hoping to research this to get to the bottom of this,”

“So you want to use me as a lab rat?”

“No of course not, the research would be used purely for your personal benefit,” 

For my benefit my ass. They were going to turn me into a lab rat or a soldier.

“Okay I’ll think about it,” Thought about it. A hard hell no.

“If you do choose to do so since you are a minor I’ll need parental consent,” 

“Of course,” I nodded.

There was a pamphlet that I wasn’t going to read. I wasn’t really going to ask for permission. Was I? If I wasn’t then why was I back at ”my” house. 

I just missed my bed, it was messy but it was mine. 

I started sobbing for no reason at all. Maybe it was the old sketchbooks on my bed, or my mom's broken jewelry box. It could’ve been the smell of incense that never left from the lack of ventilation. It was probably the pile of crystals on my dresser. Then again it could’ve been the nazar eye amulet from the broken bracelet on the ground or the hole in the wall where I used to keep my favorite knife. Maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was so much more. Maybe it was something different entirely. Maybe it was the colors of the wind. Who knows. 

My eyes stung as my eyeliner dripped down and into them. I blinked the tears away as I went through all my clothes and I mean ALL my clothes. 

I found another bodycon dress. I slipped it on after stuffing a few other articles in my bag. I continued searching to the very back of my closet and I found an old purse. There were at least $50 in the back pocket and in the front pocket there were- Oh. 

There was a small plastic bag with at least 500gs of Xanax. I must’ve left them there after Washington.

 I wasn’t going to take them. I really wasn't; I just put them in the bra. You know for safe keeping. I heard the front door open and made a break for the balcony. 

Although I’d regularly seen my sisters. I still hadn’t seen my dad since I’d left. They’d seen him a couple times though he was fine with the idea of them staying at our grandma’s for who knows how long. He doesn’t care as long as he’s still got that girlfriend of his. I can only imagine what he told her about us not staying with him.

 I jumped down the stairs of the fire escape and my heart almost jumped out of my chest. As something hit my calf. 

I looked down to see it was just Salem climbing up my leg. I lifted her up to my chest nuzzling the top of her head. 

“Hiii baby!” I cooed in a baby voice. 

I now more carefully made my way down the steps so as to not disrupt her. Now I was going to go straight to my grandma’s house to drop off the clothes, but I wanted to go shopping before it got too late.

 I already had no money so I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea but there I was with a $300 charge on my credit card. 

I probably looked insane walking around the mall with a cat in my backpack and black streaks underneath my eyes. 

If you’ve never done this I highly recommend it. Every subway train comes with carts and the last cart is a door with railing and no other restrictions. You can just sneak into the very back. 

The wind hitting your face is the most freeing thing in the world and you can scream as loud as you want and no one will hear you. That fact can be unsettling to some but to me it’s beautiful. 

Releasing your true emotions to no one but you and yourself. I closed my eyes holding onto the railing with one hand and Salem in the other. I put her back into my backpack before sitting down. 

Since the app is addicting, and you can’t tell me it’s not, I opened Tiktok and the first thing I saw is a guy pouring what I hoped wasn’t I thought it was into a bowl. 

So naturally my first reaction was to make a video about it because who doesn’t overshare on the internet. 

“Tell me why,” The track rumbled underneath me, making Salem whine, I picked her up letting her cuddle into my chest. 

“Okay, I have a cat now but-” The track rumbled again “It’s so fucking loud but tell me why I opened this hellfire app and see some dude pouring cum into a bowl, I hate everyone,” 

Within like six minutes of me posting it I had multiple likes and comments. 

The only reason being is that Harry dueted.

 I gotta say being the kid of a mayor and a multimillionaire gives you some form of clout. So he had a pretty heft following.

Harry’s similar to me in the way that we’re mean to our friends. So naturally  we’re ”mean” to each other. 

“You look stupid,” Harry claimed in his video “Also who’s fucking cat did you steal put it back and get in the trains properly and go wash your face,”

I hadn’t even realized I was on my new account at first. 

Of course I made a response video. 

“First of all this is my cat, her name is Salem and she’s adorable” I mean not really but she belongs to no one else, and I feed her. “Second, ignore my eyeliner. I actually think it looks kinda cute,” Lie, It just made me look crazy. “Also how'd you even find this account so fast? Stalker. I’d advise you shut up before I post your phone number then you’d have to ward off groupies. I’m sure you’d like that though.” 

I’m pretty sure the majority of the people in our comments thought we were being serious. So in turn they commented things like I have no idea who you are but I’m on your side, is this gonna be another scandal, or here before the news is talking about it. 

I’m not complaining. His history of scandals got me to 5k followers for the pure assumption that I was involved in some other secret. 

My mind was moving at 100 miles per hour. It felt like I was on a whole bottle of adderall.  I was going somewhere. At least I remember I was supposed to be somewhere. I’m pretty sure my grandma’s house was where I was going. Right?

“No weapon against you shall prosper mija,” My grandma squeezed my hand “You are stronger than you know,”

“I know. Thank you,” 

I’d got here and we had a 30 minute conversation about my mental health without outright saying anything about mental health. It was just mostly her taking shots at my dad. With the exception of her telling me I was dressed like una furcia. 

“Okay well,” I pushed up off the couch “I just came to bring some clothes and I need to get back anyway,” 

“Get back to where, where are staying?” She asked. 

“Oh you remember MJ right?” I lied. 

“Oh yes, I like that lil’ girl,” 

I went into the guest room to where my sisters were staying. I could hear rustling as I got closer to the room. I flicked on the lights. To see both of my sisters asleep. It was only 10:30 so that was highly unlikely.

“I know you’re not sleep it’s just me,” 

They peeled open their eyes, sitting up. 

“I come bearing gifts,” I announced kneeling down next to the bag. 

I placed the bag on the floor carefully so I wouldn’t hurt Salem.

Sapphire squealed when she saw her. 

“You got Salem? I missed her!” 

“Well actually, I just brought clothes,” I dumped them on the bed “Aaliyah come here?” I asked. 

She hopped down from the bed. 

“All of Sapphire’s clothes are over there but I know we’re like the same size so pick what you want,” I told her. 

She took at least half of what I had but I wasn’t complaining because at least she wasn’t going behind my back and taking them. 

“Okay but like am I really allowed to hate my father like cause,” I tried to move only to immediately lose balance “Shit- but like can I even hate my dad if I do the same shit he does, like maybe, maybe it’s like some contractual blood magic shit and I’m just destined to be a shitty person,” I was sending videos to some group chat I didn’t know who was in it because I couldn’t really read the name I just know Harry was the only one responding. 

“I get it being like your parents is scary but you’re not and I won’t let you be like that, now get some sleep please,” Harry reassured. 

“NO! It’s like,” I struggled to get the sentence out “It’s like crazy because before I existed it like someone fucking planted this, like it- it’s a-,” I hit my forehead on each word as if I could physically knock them out. “It’s a seed in my brain and it’s only going to grow as I get older and I’m just gonna be an asshole, it’s fucking happening already and I-“ Carmen came into the living room I flipped the camera onto her “Say hi!” I slurred. 

“Y/N you okay?” She said making her way over to me. I stopped the video and sent it. 

“I’m fine how are you?” 

“I thought you went to bed,” she ignored my question. 

“I did. Then I couldn’t sleep,” I leaned back onto the couch. She crouched down next to me feeling my forehead.

“You have a fever,” She claimed.

“No I don’t! Why does everyone keep saying that?” I whined. 

“Are you high?” She moved closer to my face. 

“No I’m not fucking high,” 

“You’re slurring your words,” She pointed out moving into the kitchen “What’d you take?” 

“What?”

“I said what’d you take,” She going into one of the cabinets “I know you’re not drunk because you don’t smell like alcohol and you don't smell like weed, so I’ll ask you again,” 

“I didn’t take anything, I'm not high!” I explained. 

“It was Benadryl wasn’t it?” She came back into the living room and handed me a glass of water. “You know that stuff kills people,” 

“Yeah I think I of all people would know that,” Truth is I wasn’t lying. I didn’t take anything. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, maybe sleep deprivation.

“True,” She sat down on the floor next to me “You know how I said I can tell when it’s getting bad,” I nodded. “Well like I was saying before it’s getting bad for you-”

“No it’s not,” I interrupted “I’m literally the happiest I’ve ever been today,” 

“I was getting there,” She held her hands up in an attempt to placate me “That’s just the calm before the storm it’s mania,”

“I’m not manic! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me I’m perfectly fine,” 

I must've woken Salem up because I could hear her footsteps as she paddled over to me and sat in my lap. It’s like she knew when I was getting angry. 

“That’s the thing you’re not fine, just let me know when you’re ready to admit that,” She pushed off the ground using her hands “Try to get some sleep please and thank you,” 

I think it was the weight and warmth of Salem on my chest that finally lulled me to sleep like a weighted blanket. 

“Sapphire!” I yelled to catch her attention “Stop running you’re gonna hurt yourself,” 

She slowed down before making her way back to Aaliyah and the other kids at this birthday party. 

I sat back down on the table’s bench before getting back on my phone. I saw this post one time about how people use technology to distract themselves so they can't have the chance to have a depressive thought. Then I decided to prove that theory wrong so I put my phone up and I thought. 

And boy did I have a lot to think about. The biggest thing on my mind was why. Why did Tony Stark come after me? Why did the guy with the gun come after me? Why did my mom feel the need to make an “Incase I die” video? Why did she have connections to people like Kingpin? Why did she even know Wade? Wasn’t he some science experiment gone wrong? 

Then that got me thinking what if I was a science experiment gone. What if that’s why Tony Stark wanted to experiment on me. What if that was under the orders of someone from SHIELD, because how would he have known about me otherwise. 

Welp, there was only one way to find out. 

“Okay I’m in,” I settled. “What do I have to do?”

“Uh are you sure?” Tony asked.

“Positive,” I affirmed. 

“Well first we would probably do some blood tests and an MRI. Then see where that takes us.” He looked back over at me “Can you do this tomorrow?” 

“Yeah tomorrow works for me,” 

“Great,” He clapped his hands together “I’ll send Happy to pick you up from school,” 

“No it’s fine I can get here myself.” 

“It’s a different location,” He revealed. 

“Okay tell me where it is and I’ll make it there myself,”

“I can’t not even I know where it is,” 

“Fine, I’ll do this, but only if I can bring a friend,” I requested “You know for safety reasons?”

“Safety reasons? Do you not trust me?”

“Not really…” 

“Wow okay, you can bring this friend,” 

“Who doesn’t trust Iron man?'' I heard him mutter to himself as I made my way out of the building. 

I always thought the apocalypse would come in colors. The sky flashing from red to pink to purple to orange. Then there would be a loud sound almost like the Big Bang. Then nothing. I had a vivid imagination when I was younger. 

I guess I was wrong though because it was already here and the sky was as blue as ever.  And the air was as humid as ever in this crusty ass building. 

“I told you already I’m not a soldier you’re gonna have to pay me for this,” I spoke into the comms.

“Shh,” Tony hushed “Just wait for your target.”

Life hadn’t been all that bad. Just for the past two weeks I’d been training with Peter since at the end of the week that I agreed to testing, Spiderman joined in the Avengers officially. Which, good for him I guess. 

Trying to get my brain back on track now. I’d been training with Peter and now we’re going on our first mission. I was not loyal to Tony at all. Nor would I ever be. I’m not calling him Mr. Stark like Peter does either, he doesn’t deserve it. I was trying to look up my mom with the information Felicia gave me and I saw she was listed as level orange in a shield file. Whatever that means.

One thing it meant was I couldn’t back out just yet now.

This would be one deep inside job.

“Peter?” I whispered into the comms

“Hello?” He asked.

“Where are you?” 

“I’m guarding the entrance like I was told too?” He asked more than stated. 

“Well, come here,” 

“But Mr. Stark said-“ 

“I don’t care what Mr. Stark said come here,” I interjected without even thinking about the fact he could’ve been listening in somehow. 

“Yes?” He questioned once he was standing in front of me.

“Take my role for a second,” I pulled my gun out the holster “You know how to use a gun right?”

I thought back to the last time we’d actually fought as our alter egos. Except then he didn’t know it was me and he still doesn’t. He definitely didn’t know how to use a gun then let’s just hope he did now. 

“You know what, I don’t have time just take it,” I placed the gun in his palm before speeding off.

“Wait!” He called out “Aren’t you defenseless now?” 

“I’ll be fine baby boy,” I called back.

I made my way into the farthest depths of the warehouse. I’d been here once before. That was before I knew Felicia and we’d gotten into a scuffle about a diamond. Let’s just say I was young and I went home bruised that day. 

Apparently I was under the impression she had it and she was under the impression I had it this whole time. So maybe. Just maybe it was still there. It was somewhere in the back last time I checked.

 There it was. I grabbed it and recoiled when I heard a voice accompanied by the sharp zap in my body. 

“Looking for something?” They asked. I turned around only to be faced with a large burly almost Frankenstein looking man. 

“Oh yeah I was looking for you actually, you just made my job a lot easier,” 

As if my words were a signal for him. They probably were. He lunged forward towards me with his left side fully open. I evaded and left a sharp kick to his side. 

He wailed out in pain before slinging me backward as I tried to reach for the diamond off the floor. 

I skidded across the floor before hopping back to my feet. 

“I found the guy,” I spoke into the comms.

“Who are you talking to?” The target teased. 

“Your mom,” I taunted. 

“Hey!” He cried. 

“Where are you?” I heard Peter ask I didn’t get a chance to answer because the man swung at me again. 

That hit made contact with my shoulder. He continued to swing and I continued to walk backwards. I realized almost too late that I was backing myself into a corner.

I’m not sure where or who I heard this from maybe Wade but sometimes the only point your opponent has his guard down is mid punch.

 I scrambled for my knife, fingers dancing around the holster on my waist as my feet continued to slide along the pavement underneath me. Just as the man swung at me again I sent my knife towards his torso. Except it didn’t make contact. And I had never missed before, especially not from this close. 

I was confused until I realized it was because I heard that all familiar wet sticky sound of Spider-Man’s web shooters except this time I was glad to hear it. 

Peter webbed the man's arms and mouth all while my fingers went lax in shock for only a moment but one moment too long. 

The knife clattered to the ground making a noise that drew Peter’s attention. I tried to swipe it away with my foot but Peter had already grabbed it. 

“This is Thorns knife,” He spoke calmly and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or if it was for himself.

“And how would you have Thorns knife unless you were,” I saw his eyes light up as he made the connection. “Wait, you’re Thorn, holy shit, I’m so stupid how’d I not notice before,”

“Peter seriously you can’t tell anyone,” 

He looked up as if he were just noticing I was still there. 

“Don’t worry I won’t be saying anything at all,” 

Yeah, this was definitely the apocalypse because I don’t know if it was just me but life was ending.

Another silent ride and I realized exactly what he’d meant when he said he wouldn’t say anything. He was giving me the silent treatment. 

Which was odd because usually he talks the most on these rides. After we got over the initial awkwardness of the whole fire and Vulture thing we fell back into the way of things. Well if he was going to play this game I would too because what’s that saying? It takes two to tango. 

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[godsizemylife-blog]

  Lost – and Found

Rose Jackson ©7/24/2009

You may have noticed my posts are distinctly lacking in the “God is in the flowers and rainbows” flavor. In fact, more of my posts are about trials I face or disappointments in myself. This no doubt comes from the fact that, while I am every bit female, I‘ve never been a “frou-frou” girl. I look like death warmed over in pink, I simply look silly in ruffles, and though I love jewelry, the beautiful blingy cocktail rings my sweet friend Patty has given me look like a contradiction on my thin, veiny hands. An frankly, my life has been so challenge-filled since 1995 that I find little comfort in stress-busting articles that advise me to take a bubble bath or have my nails done. God IS in the flowers and rainbows, and probably in bubbles, too, but I need a God who is there to be found IN my pain, loss, anxiety, disappointments, grief, and frustrations. If He isn’t to be encountered and experienced there, then what hope do any of us have?

After I take the bubble bath and have my nails done, what has changed? Have those admittedly fun exercises changed my circumstances? If they haven’t changed my situation, have they changed me? No. And while I love bubble baths, I need something more substantial in my life. A stress-buster to me means seeing God’s hand moving to transform me in the middle of the messes my life seems to step into again and again like the ubiquitous gum in a Wal-Mart parking lot.

I long to dance in the rain – not because I’m a pessimist, but because I know rain will come. I need a God who isn’t afraid to get wet, who can transcend, transfigure, translate and transform, as the lyrics in John Mark McMillan’s moving, anointed song, “How He Loves” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Chx6s3qXKt4&feature=related powerfully declare: “When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory, and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for me.” I need a God of grit and guts and glory. That’s who I’m encountering in this deepest trial of my life – a God of incredible, deep compassion and love – and that’s who I pray you find within these thoughts and discoveries of mine.

This post is about my father, but Susan Miller and everyone who’s lost a loved one, this one is for you, too.

“Uuuuhhhh . . . uuuhh . . . .” Dad’s mouth opened as he tried to speak. His eyes still held that “deer in the headlights” look of incomprehension so typical of Alzheimer’s patients, but I caught a spark of – what – hope? Thanks? Love? Mom, Bonnie and I were gathered around him holding his hand, once so strong and steady as he guided wood through the saw blade, but now so forceless and weak, and touching his now thin shoulders. We’d come to say good-bye.

Two days earlier Dad had developed pneumonia. This Monday morning, the day before Dad’s 75th birthday, a nurse in the Alzheimer’s unit of the nursing home had called my Mom to tell her to come quickly, as this might be Dad’s last day. I’d thrown the car into gear and flown to Mom’s house to pick her up and quickly dash up to the home. “Oh, Rosie!” was all she could get out through her sobbing. The past five years of grieving as we watched Dad steadily decline still hadn’t prepared our hearts for this day.

Surprisingly, when Mom and I arrived, Dad actually looked pretty good. He was sitting up in a chair looking apparently healthy and pretty much like he usually did. Mom and I chatted to him while the nurses worked around us. “To him” was all we could do, because Dad hadn’t been able to speak for the past two years; in fact, he hadn’t even uttered so much as a syllable on the many Sundays when my husband, our ten-year-old son and I stopped in to see him after church. Ethan had never really known Grandpa when he was well, this man who made wagons and pedal fire trucks and doll houses and so many treasures for his grandchildren before dementia robbed him of his considerable talents.

But he was still Grandpa, still my Dad, and I thought back to treasured evenings in our back yard sitting on his telescope mount as he twirled me around the stars, or standing beside him in the garage redolent with the fragrance of newly sawn pine as he showed me how to drive a nail and drill a hole in a scrap of lumber. He was still the man I loved and respected, somewhere inside there. I dared to believe that, fought to hope it was true. Mom and I stepped aside to let the nurse take Dad’s vitals. The door opened and my sister Bonnie walked into the room. The nurse gave a slight gasp as my Dad’s vital signs shot up. Bonnie hadn’t seen Dad in two years, not since he moved from his home into this skilled nursing facility. She did live quite a distance away, but it was just too painful for her to see Dad in his continually deteriorating condition. I understood completely. Bonnie had always been there for Dad and Mom over the years, and she still helped Mom every way she could.

Dad hadn’t seen her in two years, yet something in him rose up in recognition of a face he loved, and rose up so powerfully that his heart rate and respiration increased immediately!

“Should we pray with him? Should we tell him . . .?” I honestly don’t remember now which one of us voiced what we all were thinking: should we give Dad permission to go home to Jesus? Should we give him our blessing and love? Wordlessly we all agreed, gathered around Dad, and began to pray. “Thank you so much, Father, for our father, for his love, for the faith he shared so freely . . . . “

Then we said it, every eye awash in tears that flowed to the nurses in the room, too. “Dad, if you’re ready to go, we give you our blessing to go home to Heaven.” That’s when it happened: Dad tried to speak! He looked directly into our faces and said, “Uuuhhh . . . uuuhhhhhh.” Those might have been babbled syllables to anyone else, but to the tree of us, they were the voice of a beloved husband and father, struck dumb by a disease advancing brain cell by brain cell for five years, but the man still alive and vital inside, somewhere, somehow!

One by one we bent down and kissed him, hugged him, squeezed his feeble hand, and left, fairly confident that his healthy appearance meant this might be a false alarm. Two days later he died, sweetly and quietly and I believe liberated to leave the prison of his disease and go meet his fellow carpenter, his Savior Jesus.

Some people might understandable dismiss this as coincidence to which we attributed too much significance. I might, too, had it not been for a comment from one of the nurses after Dad died, and the same scene repeated exactly four weeks later over the bed of Dad’s sister, my Aunt Cine. Francine developed Alzheimer’s two years before Dad exhibited signs of the disease. She had been bedridden, fallen away to 80 pounds, unable to walk or speak, at death’s door for over a year. Mom and I went to see her on her birthday. We took her some balloons.

“Should we tell her?” Mom asked, and I agreed. “Should we tell her that her brother died?”

“Yes,” I concurred without hesitation.

Cine was in much worse shape than Dad had been, but the day Dad died, one of the nurses on Dad’s floor at his nursing home had said to me, ‘Your father was such a sweet, wonderful man. We enjoyed him so much.” How had she known that? How can you know that about someone who can’t communicate . . . unless Dad’s spirit had been able to break out of his silence and communicate somehow, quite apart from words?

So my mother and I bent down on either side of Dad’s sister, took her hands, and I softly said, “Aunt Cine, we want you to know your brother has gone on ahead of you. He’s waiting for you with Jesus. If you’re ready to go, we give you our permission and blessing to go home.”

“Uuuhhh . . . . uuuhhhh.” Her face turned up to mine, her wild yet shallow eyes looking directly into mine, and I knew she was there. She saw me. We kissed her and went home. So did Cine, the very next day.

I never gave much credence to the notion that sometimes people need permission from their loved ones to leave. I always thought your body had the deciding voice in when you die. Now I’m certain that is not always the case.

Two intelligent, resourceful, achieving, loving people, struck down by a disease so heinous and hideous that it strikes terror in the hearts of most people. Any way but that one! What could possible be the sliver lining in my father’s and my aunt’s deaths? Simply and profoundly this: no matter what disease does to our bodies or our brains, God’s Spirit never leaves our spirit. We remain, whole, intact, filled with all the life and love we’ve known and given away, whether the outside world can access it or not. And is that a meager comfort in the face of such deep loss and pain? No, even though my sister, brother and I know we live in the shadow of DNA that may spell the same end for us, especially now that our mother has vascular dementia from numerous small strokes. It is somehow a great comfort and source of hope.

Yes, I pray researchers will home in quickly on what causes and what can cure and prevent Alzheimer’s, but while I wait, I rest in the knowledge that who I truly am, who we truly are, endures above and beyond all else. Count that as an incredible, joyful, overcoming blessing!

Note as of May 5, 2010: My brother, age 67, has just been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Note January 27, 2018: Its wasn’t Alzheimer’s, but undiagnosed bipolar disorder, and  lung cancer took Dave in January 2013. Five years later, I’m remembering the amazing time I had with my brother just weeks before he went home to Jesus, and I thank God even more passionately for the certainty that this life isn’t all there is, and Heaven truly awaits all who know Jesus as Lord and Savior and the Lover of their soul.  Dave,  I can imagine the smiles on Mom’s and Dad’s faces as they ran to greet you!

GOD IS LOVE, and He still proves it to us.

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SONY DSC

  Just a thankful amen!

Revisiting Lost and Found Lost – and Found Rose Jackson ©7/24/2009 You may have noticed my posts are distinctly lacking in the “God is in the flowers and rainbows” flavor.