#me reblogging this is honest charity work

[sanguineterrain]

hi sanne!!! my mind has been rotting with assistant!reader x dick, and i literally can’t get it out 😭. i'm in love with your writing and reblog everything! thank you so much, have a great day!!

cute idea! I gave it a little twist ;) hope u enjoy!

dick grayson x gn!assistant!reader. flirting, secret identities, sparring.

****

Bruce Wayne is evasive on a good day and downright invisible on a bad one.

So when you see him down the hallway from his office, attempting to escape without being caught, you nearly trip on your feet trying to catch him.

"Mr. Wayne!"

His shoulders rise with tension. You pity the guy, you really do. Being a gazillionaire is tough.

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne, Sharon has been hounding me about the charity dinner. Please, if you could just go to this one dinner... you haven't been to an event all month."

And you're getting the brunt of it from all of WE's clients.

Bruce turns, his smile looking more like a grimace. "Hn. Hello. A dinner? I was sure I had a shareholder meeting that day—"

"All month? B, what happened to the two event minimum? That's your rule."

The new voice comes from behind you. Dick Grayson walks down the hallway, wearing jeans that probably cost as much as your monthly rent.

"Mr. Grayson," you say, nodding primly. "How are you?"

You shift the files in your hands as they start to slip. Dick is quick to catch them, balancing the stack.

"We've been through this," he says with a smile. "You know you can call me Dick."

Yes, you've been through this. Every time Dick shows up to Wayne Enterprises, he tells you to call him by his first name. And every time after that, you call him Mr. Grayson.

"Right..." you say, taking back the files. You turn to Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, if you would just consider the dinner..."

Dick gives Bruce a severe look. "B, this is ridiculous. You're such a stickler for rules and yet—"

"Oh, look at the time." Bruce scoots past you and Dick. "I've got that meeting with Lucius. Where does the day go? Please tell Sharon I'll get back to her."

You can't understand how a guy whose biggest exertion is made by playing tennis at the country club can slip through your fingers so fast. He's around the corner before you can blink. You sigh.

"Don't worry," Dick says. "I'll get him to go. And I'll get one of my siblings to tag along to make sure he doesn't duck out early."

You smile briefly. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Grayson."

"Dick. So!" He trails behind you as you make your way back to your office. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Working."

"O-kay..." Dick jogs ahead to hold the door open for you. You push through, trying not to frown. "What about tomorrow night?"

You toss your scarf on the hook. It ends up on the floor. You ignore it.

"Still working."

"How 'bout I ask B to give you the day off then?"

Now it's your turn to give a severe look. "If you're implying that I'd be obligated to go out with you in return for a day off, you've completely misjudged my character, Mr. Grayson."

"Whoa, okay." He holds up his hands. "You're right, that didn't come out right. How about I get him to give you a day off, no strings attached?"

You dump your files and sit at your desk. "That's at your discretion."

"Hey." Dick leans on your desk, puppy eyes at full power. "Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Did I do something that put you off? I'd like you to tell me if I have. I hope the fact that I'm Bruce's son isn't stopping you from being honest."

You put down your pen and look at him. "Look. You seem like a nice guy, and you're handsome with a rich dad to boot. But I'm just not available, okay? You're looking for someone to go to Tahiti with. I respect that. But I'm not that person. I'm just not interested in that."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You sigh and open your laptop.

"Right! Sorry. Not the point." Dick sinks into a crouch next to you. He pulls the oddest poses sometimes, like he's made of rubber bands. "Okay. You're not looking for a trip to Tahiti. Got it. I don't take many vacations anyway. So how about having a friend?"

"And why would you want to be my friend? I'm just some assistant."

"Well, I..." Dick scratches his neck. "I like you. Is that so hard to believe?"

Very. But okay. You can throw him a bone.

"I guess not," you say.

Dick frowns. "You don't believe me."

How does he do that?

"Can I please get back to work?" you ask, only a little worried about being rude. "I'm sorry, I'm just very busy."

His face falls briefly before he stands and nods.

"Of course. No problem. I'll see you around? And I'll get B to go to that dinner."

"Thank you."

You don't notice his lingering looks, or the fact that he picks up your scarf and places it on the hook on his way out.

****

3...17...64.

The safe clicks. You smirk. Easy peasy. The hotshots always use their own birthdays for combinations. Predictable. You bet Bruce Wayne does the same.

It's a blessing that you were able to duck out early today. Bruce gave you the rest of the afternoon off. You suspect that was due to some outside meddling.

You take out the files from D.A. Colson's safe. You always say that if crooked district attorneys don't want their documents stolen, they shouldn't put them where anybody can find them.

...Maybe you were too harsh with Dick. He's sweet, no doubt. It was nice of him to get you off early. But you kind of feel like he'd take issue with the fact that you spend your weeknights breaking and entering.

"You know, cracking safes is already Catwoman's shtick," a voice says behind you. "You might wanna find a new gimmick."

A thrill shoots through you. You toss your head as you turn, leaning against the open safe.

"Catwoman steals diamonds." You hold up the documents. "I just steal files. And make a few edits."

"That's extremely illegal. Those files belong to the district attorney," Nightwing says, crossing his arms.

"The dirty district attorney," you correct.

"I'm supposed to let you off on a technicality?" He sounds amused.

Your shrug one shoulder, a little coy. "You could. I hear you're the nice one."

He laughs. Nightwing has a pretty smile. It's the first thing you'd noticed about him.

"Oh, yeah? Anything else you've heard?"

"Plenty. But I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight, Wing. As much as I enjoy our little chats..."

You dart to the window. Nightwing easily blocks your exit.

You're not quite sure what overtakes you when you run into Nightwing. Ignoring the fact that he manages to be the one to chase you almost every time (and what a chase it is), there's a tension between you. Or maybe it's just one-sided on your part. It certainly doesn't help that he's got a nice smile and bouncy hair.

"You know I can't let you go," he says, hands on his hips. "Put it down."

And he's extremely good at what he does.

"Make me," you say.

He never uses his escrima sticks, which you know is a courtesy to you. But that doesn't mean you can't hold your own.

"Alright," Nightwing says, smirking slightly.

He takes three steps, blocks your immediate kick, and takes the documents.

Something swoops in your belly. You kind of get why Catwoman exclusively fights Batman. Once you go bat, you never go back.

"Got them," he says cheerily. "Now what?"

You throw a glass bird tchotchke at him from Colson's desk. He catches it with his free hand, but it's enough of a distraction for you to slide into his legs. Nightwing stumbles less than you would like, but you push him down against the desk.

He grunts as he hits the wood, then rolls you over in the next breath, hands catching your wrists.

"Stealing... makes you no better... than Colson," he says, hair falling over his mask. All of him is pretty, really. It's too bad he's so firmly on the blind side of justice. You're trying to help the little people. Batman and his merry band of do-gooders have always been too focused on the big picture.

"If these documents are buried, Colson will win his case and hide his own crimes in the process. Is that what you want? Another crook in court?" you ask.

Nightwing frowns. "You know that's not fair. We can't falsify evidence for the sake of putting Colson behind bars. IF we pick and choose whose lives to play with, what gives us the right to carry out justice?"

"I dunno, Wing," you say, a little breathless. Nightwing's hips are politely shifted off of yours, chest to yours. "Seeing you go rogue would be kind of exciting."

You can tell he's glaring at you. "Not in your dreams."

"Been in my dreams, have you?"

You gain enough leverage to push Nightwing off of you. He's back on you immediately, trapping you against the wall.

"How is doing something like this not crooked?" he asks.

You scoff. "It's for charity. I'm donating residents to the county jail."

You twist in Nightwing's hold and land a kick. In the three seconds he's distracted, you grab the documents. No sooner do you do that does Nightwing tackle you. The documents slip out of your hand.

"I can do this all night," he says, knee wedged between your legs. "Might as well yield."

"Yield? You're not even playing at your full strength, hotshot."

He smiles. "No, I'm playing nice."

You roll your eyes. "Well, play fair."

And then you jump out of the window.

Your tuck and roll isn't the worst but it's not the best. Especially when Nightwing neatly lands a few feet away without a wince.

"Showoff," you say.

"Give me the documents," he says. "I want to put Colson away, too. But this isn't how to do it. He's still a civilian, and his clients' lives matter."

You get up and wobble on a loose brick on the edge. Stupid historical buildings.

You're desperate. If he keeps this up, you're bound to land yourself a night in the police station and lose the documents.

So you dust yourself off. And you stop. Right at the edge of the roof.

"Okay," you say.

Nightwing takes a careful step forward. "Okay?"

You toss the documents to him. He catches them in surprise.

"You're surrendering?" he asks.

You shrug. "Like you said: you can do this all night. And I guess there are better ways to catch Colson. More permanent ways."

He tilts his head. "You're not gonna kill him, are you?"

"No! Jesus, man. Ye of little faith."

"I'm just trying to understand why you surrendered."

You sigh. "Because you always win anyway. You're a better fighter than me. And I'm cornered. I just feel like cutting my losses early. You're a lot more convincing than Batman."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yeah. I much prefer you chasing me."

"Uh-huh." He nods towards the building. "Come on, then."

"Okay, sure."

You take a step. And you fall.

The brick is loose under your foot. It doesn't take much for you to keep going.

Panic surges through you, but that only solidifies your acting.

"Wing!" you cry, toppling over the edge.

"Shit!"

Nightwing lunges and grabs you by your waist, then uses momentum to haul you both to safety. His cheek against yours for a moment, body pressed to yours. It really is a damn shame he's such a Boy Scout.

You knock him in the stomach and snatch the documents, then separate from his grip. You watch his face contort in realization as you land and bolt.

"That wasn't playing nice or fair!" he yells, landing on the opposite side.

You're already gone, laughter echoing.

[moonastrogirl]

2024 Numerology

- Predictions/Tips

Credit @moonastrogirl

2024 is an 8 year. Karma will be served like no one has ever seen it. Power and money will be given to the right people who deserve it.

Number 8 is often associated with the infinity ♾️ symbol which means limitless, abundance but it’s wrong. It’s the symbol of the snake eating his own tail. It’s the symbol of karma which can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on past actions and karma laws.

Number 0 is the true symbol of infinity. It’s wholeness. It’s love. It’s true bliss and abundance. It’s joy and surprise combined. Everything has to come in a full cercle. To receive abundance someone gotta give back too. That’s why lot of millionaires and billionaires donate to charity or do charity galas etc. They know to multiple their money and gains they have to give back and create the full cercle energy.

Those with a prominent Saturn or Saturn ruled placements in their chart/Saturn aspecting personal planets in their birth chart or with a prominent 8 energy in their numerology chart will understand what it truly means and how the smallest action can impact someone.

Power, connections and money will be taken away from abusive people who were using others, gossiping, spreading rumours, lying etc. Divine justice will be served. Honest , generous, loving people will receive their flowers and more.

The scales ⚖️ of divine justice are bringing back true equilibrium.

Those who went through it, true givers and generous people will receive if they are willing to receive. Takers will lose everything if they are not willing to give. People who were made fun of or put down by society for what they do even if they don’t harm anyone (prostitues for instance) will receive plenty and fast. Victims of circumstances, of violence, of abuse will also receive what they need.

Again it’s based on the willingness to receive and give back.

This energy is already being felt for weeks now : karma is here. She serves and delivers like no one. Already conspiring and bringing powerful people down (P Diddy - Cassie case).

Releasing bad karma, bad habits, lies (even white lies) is key 🔑 to receive blessings. It’s best to proactively go get yours blessings, they won’t just come to you. Work hard and smart.

Be willing to release and receive, give back and have faith.

Wishing you and myself peace, love, blessings and abundance for 2024 and may the scales of divine justice be in our favours 💫

Thank you for reading me and if this post resonates with you, please feel free to like, comment or reblog 💜

Credit @moonastrogirl

[ukiyowi]

People coming into your life and the kinds of people you attract!

❗Important Note❗Do Not Copy/Plagiarise, reblogs help a ton if you liked the PAC! You can check out the Masterlist for more, or get a personalised reading :)) have a lovely day!! Reblogging and paid readings help a lot! Pls DM me if you want one!

Masterlist || Paid Readings || Tip 🍯

Entering your life

People you attract

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

🪻Pile 1

Aww this is cute, the new people coming to you are going to be upbeat and light-hearted, yet quite serious. They will celebrate your every win and teach you how to enjoy yourself and take time off (hi workaholic pile😍) these people may be the foundation when it comes to being lifelong friends. They may be the kind to make an unbreakable bond with you. You could also meet them at a party or a family celebration!

They will seem talkative and jolly and you will have no problem making easy conversation with them. They may have issues regarding fear and anxiety about the future, and you may have similar problems too which you would discuss and try to heal through.

They will help you ease your thoughts and restless mind as well. They may be the type to be a little possessive and greedy, and they crave financial stability. This could be the result of past hardships where they've lost a lot and don't want to lose anything more. They may also hold on to the past tightly, carrying their hurt because they may feel they need to.

Placements: Cancer, Aries, Pisces, mars, Jupiter, 4th house, 6th house and 11th house.

Keywords: 444, guidance, instinct, trust, stability, stagnation, home, calling, great expanse, feeling seen, horror, laughter, poetry, anarchism, angel

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

Pile 2

Ths people coming into your life are going to be immensely ambitious, the kind that's a little too intense if I'm being honest. They're very fast paced and may like to go through life in an organised and calculated manner. They may seem distant or in their own world when you first meet and you may meet in a work environment. You may notice that they're strict yet sensitive, they have a heart of gold and may not like making small talk.

They may be very successful and assertive. Could get into arguments easily because they may be a bit defensive about the world they do. They'll help you grow and understand yourself better, probably bringing more structure and balance in your life.

They'll also be quite competitive so they may love playing video/board games with you as well and they'll also teach you how to stop always compromising even when you don't need to. They're mature and dependable they'll probably be like a mentor figure almost. They're the kind of person to constantly work even when they're supposed to be on vacation and they've worked hard to get where they are.

Placements: Virgo, Leo, Aquarius, 1st house, 8th house, 10th house, Mercury and mars

Keywords: 1212, finality, family, partnership, domesticity, cooking, wit, fun, tingling, moods, shining, strength, mastery, work, togetherness, vision, innovation

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

🪻Pile 3

Abundant, so elegant, this person will have an extremely regal energy. They may be a social butterfly, someone who makes connections easily and they may have a maternal vibe to them. They're going to be generous and helpful will probably be quite wealthy, and are the kind of person to donate to charities frequently. For some reason it's coming though that you may meet them while doing humanitarian work. They'll also be homebodies so as much as they like socialising they may like spending time with a small circle of friends at home.

They may teach you how to heal from abandonment, maybe they went through something similar and will help guide you. They may also teach you how to leave things you no longer need behind and turn your back on the past. They'll be very Intune with their surroundings and the energies around them and may be interested in the occult.

One thing that's coming through strongly is that they may be secretive and mysterious which is what will pull you in, however this can get tiring pretty quickly because it may seem like you keep opening up to them but they don't. They may also have very good intuition.

Placements: Scorpio, Taurus, Gemini, moon, Pluto, 2nd house, 5th house, 8th house.

Keywords: southern, 888, loops, waves, answers, forgotten, youth, fantasy, bad habits, ending, unbelievable, 7, kindred, identity, survival, opinions of others, story, listening.

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

🍀 Pile 1

Hopeless romantics, people who may be a little naïve and innocent, viewing the world through rose coloured glasses, but they're also strong willed and determined, nothing can get them down, they're independent people who, when in love, fall too fast and too deep. They are successful professionally but may be a bit immature when it comes to expressing their emotions. They may be people who don't like expressing negative emotions as it makes them feel like they're getting the mood down, they may not be comfortable with vulnerability and emotional intimacy.

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

🍀 Pile 2

Brave people, warriors at heart, they've probably been through a rough past that has left them a little jaded but even with their rough edges they are extremely soft. May be the kind of people to be there through thick or thin, a dependable friend, people who're always there to help no matter what. They may be "fixers" and feel they can fix people with their love. Calm and stable individuals who have a lot of wanderlust and usually believe in the occult, they're also very stern and may come off as a little harsh at times.

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

🍀 Pile 3

Low-key, energy vampires, they may be attracted to you because they can either get something from you, or you're an empath and are healing to be around. People who're a little self-absorbed and selfish, may not be the best at respecting boundaries, more of a talker than a listener. A little flighty, very flirty, the type of people you would want to go on a short trip because of how fun they are. May leave you speechless at times simply because of the bizarre things they say, people who may be resistant to change.

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

🍀 Pile 4

Gentle souls, wise people who give great advice but their advice may be unsolicited at times which could have a tendency to annoy people, people who're usually artistic in some way maybe they play instruments or draw or dance. They're very charming but can be manipulative if they want because of how good they are with their speech. Big emotions, people who have high highs and low lows. The kind of people who may be a bit paranoid and are natural worriers, they can also be a little superstitious. Really warm and welcoming individuals.

- ﹒⪩⪨﹒

Ukiyowi All Rights Reserved ®©

[sturionic]

hey, you said your inbox is open and I was curious if you have any ideas for someone who can't get involved irl in things like protests and local antifa groups (physically disabled and incapacitatingly severe anxiety), and who can't get involved in online activism beyond reblogging stuff (personal reasons, difficult to explain)?

I've been considering trying to put together care packages for local unhoused people, but I'm poor and I'd have to convince someone to help me put everything together so idk how well that will go.

I don't want to sit around doing nothing.

Hey anon! I am very glad you reached out, and this is a question I get asked a lot by people IRL, so you are very much not alone here.

I think the first order of business is expanding your definition of activism. We have been done a great disservice by having activism framed for us as protests, charity, & singular heroes making speeches and changing hearts through celebrity. In reality, the smaller actions in your community have a much greater impact; and most of all, the things you personally have to offer make the greatest impact.

This diagram is specifically geared towards climate action, but really applies to all activism:

For you to be an effective activist/volunteer/community member, it's crucial to find the centre of that diagram, or else you're on a one-way ticket to burnout. Don't get caught up in trying to judge which is the most "important" activism, because that answer will be different for everyone. The most important thing you can do for the world is the thing you can do.

I've done lots of volunteering and volunteer management in multiple fields, and there really is lots of choice out there for things that suit you; anything from sorting files quietly in a back room to using computer knowledge (often VERY absent in community groups lol) to help with maintaining websites & promoting community events. One of my personal favourite volunteer shifts was acting as a helper to the organizers of a queer electronic music festival, running a "build your own synthesizer" workshop. Literally I was just ticking off names on a registration sheet and doing setup and fetching things, but it was one of the coolest things I've had the joy to be involved in.

The other plus here is that activists in a given city all usually have some social overlap. If you email, say, your local community centre, explain your interests & circumstances & skills, and ask what you could do - they might not have anything right that moment, but likely someone there will know a different group that needs something similar, or they'll have ideas for who you could try next. Even if you're not finding a lot online right away, have faith in the (slightly haphazard) offline community org social scene. Same deal if you get involved with something and realize it's not your thing after all - just be honest, and ask for help in finding something more suited to you. It's so, so common, and no one's going to get angry with you for wanting to help in ways you're better suited for.

Don't mistake me when I nudge you towards volunteering - there's a certain way that well-meaning (usually) liberals treat volunteering, like they're 'donating' their time as charity, and I am not advocating for that. I'm just saying that you really don't have to reinvent the wheel. There are structures in place run by people who know well how to do it. Part of the importance is the work itself; the file-sorting, the computer help, whatever. But another part is building connections with the people around you, and also letting those people benefit from the privilege of knowing you. And that will happen naturally over time. The muscle will grow as you use it more, even if you need to start with something that feels to you like it might not be enormously significant in the grand scheme of things. Maybe you move on to 'bigger' things, or maybe you gain new perspective and realize just how significant your contributions are after all.

[o-wyrmlight]

thank you for telling me about the scam. I can't believe people are really sick enough to try and capitalize on a fucking ethnic cleansing.

I think that somebody on Tumblr has been looking into it and suspects that all of the scam accounts are tied to the same person. I'm not 100% sure about the details, but considering how easy it probably is to buy accounts, I wouldn't be surprised.

The worst part about it to me is not only that this is a flagrant attempt to steal funding that would go to actual Palestinians in need, but also that it propagates doubt about which donations on Tumblr are actually honest and true. It's especially vindictive because at least some of the scripts and accounts literally steal from genuine fundraisers.

It's also frustrating how much I've seen the same scams on the #free palestine tag over the past two days alone. It really does bloat the tag and make it difficult to find any updates or insight.

If you do end up falling for this scam, it isn't your fault. You care a lot, and that's exactly what these accounts are taking advantage of. Whoever is doing this is a morally bankrupt individual who is exploiting your good will and desire to help.

Remember the signs:

Sending asks to people asking for donations

New account whose earliest post was within the last few days

Other accounts that share the same format as each other

Multiple accounts that share the same story

Pinned post is identical to pinned posts on other scam accounts

Remember that you can try to google the script and see if you can find any other accounts that asked the same thing. I'm not sure how well that works anymore because I just... recognize it as someone who's seen these scams for years at this point.

Be sure to ensure that donation posts you reblogged have been approved by actual Palestinians. If you don't feel comfortable risking reblogging individual donation posts, it's always a safe bet to reblog donations for charities and organizations who have proven to help Palestine, like Care For Gaza.

Stay safe. Be vigilant.

[redjennies]

hey I'm gonna be honest, I'm touched to be seeing all these posts about the flooding in Appalachia, but I do have to say, as an Appalachian, be VERY careful who you give your money to. a lot of Christian charities (and charities that don't advertise themselves as Christian but nonetheless still fall in to this category) in this area are extreme far-right evangelical fundamentalists who are going to at best only help people they think are deserving of help and at worst going to channel that money into political causes that actively harm poor and marginalized Appalachians. (I live in the state that tried to ban drag after all.)

I've been in touch with a lot of my friends up in Northeast TN (I used to live very close to Unicoi County and I know a lot of folks with family there) and the current on the ground response is mostly direct help by federal government employees trained in disaster relief (to Biden's credit, this is not looking like another Katrina at least in Tennessee.) and locals doing direct item drives and providing immediate shelter that untrained outsiders simply cannot provide in the same way. because of the power outages, there is a lot of confusion where the best place to donate is, and I honestly cannot tell you that either.

I'm not saying don't donate but I am saying even as someone who lives relatively close to the affected areas, the ability to organize has been very scattered but mostly localized. it's worth doing your research or if you don't feel comfortable with your ability to verify waiting until Appalachians can say "hey here's a group I'm personally familiar with and know isn't some Christofascist extremist group that's providing relief directly to victims" or you could be putting money directly in the hands of GOP campaigns that actively want to kill us.

note: turned off reblogs to avoid this getting too far away from me and becoming ~discourse~ when I really just meant it as a note to direct followers as what I personally knew about the situation (and a warning about my personal experiences in east Tennessee with religious-based charities.) in days to come this will no longer apply as it becomes easier to find good places to donate directly to victims, but the way Tumblr works most people will not see any additions once a post is in circulation.

[edenfenixblogs]

Hello, you have shared previously that you use mb/fc for how factual/biased media sources are, and charity navigator for rating charities. These are very helpful (thanks!), and I was wondering if you have any other resources for finding out the reliability of organizations (like BDS and Standing Together) or information sites (like the Jewish Virtual Library). I understand that at some point I need to be able to figure out the trustworthiness of organizations/sites on my own (do you have additional advice for that, the “Consuming News and Media, Avoid Misinformation” ALLMEP post was helpful!). For now it is still a struggle though, so I wanted to ask if you knew of any resources that rates organization/sites such as these.

It's gonna be a little bit of a struggle always, unfortunately. But it gets easier with practice. I think most of my thoughts and resources can be found under my #media literacy tag. But I also super encourage my followers to add resources of their own. Personally I'm inclined to trust resources from goyische and Jewish allies for peace from whom I reblog frequently and who have demonstrated excellent media literacy in the past. In particular, @faggotry-enjoyer @arandomshotinthedark @comradevo @wyf-of-bathe and @gehe-lihiyot-androgynos-varda spring to mind first, but I know I'm forgetting at least one vital friend and contributor (please forgive me). If they or anyone else wishes to provide their recommendations on this post, please feel free to do so. If you, @jellymarbles, wish to ask my opinion on a source you're unsure about, I'll do my best to provide an honest and balanced answer. I'll also tell you if I simply don't have the knowledge or ability to determine if that source is trustworthy and will attempt to find someone who is.

I'm so proud of you and all the work you have done to grow as a person for the benefit of so many groups (Muslim, Jewish, Israeli, Palestinian, and Arab) of which you are not a part. It makes so much of a difference. If everyone was more like you, the world would be a much better and more peaceful place. Bless you and thank you.

[shivstar]

i just saw a random divorce jily rant that ends w snily and prongsfoot of yours in tags on a reblog and i feel like a stalker but uhhh please please i would like to hear sm sm sm more about that ill pay you

Hello Anon!!!

(A but of jily critical) (be cautious) (also a bit of lily abd james critical)

To be quite honest, I never prescribed to the 'madly in love jily' idea. Something about the couple didn't sit with me the right way. Especially as we are only told that jily were made for each other, what we saw was how much toxic they were for each other.

So, I am proper against the idea that they had a perfectly healthy marriage.

Add to that how Prongsfoot is practically canon. With Sirius's never ending love for James and James time and time again choosing Sirius.

I love the idea that in a world where voldy didn't exist, they would fight like those crazy couple fight we all secretly enjoy to watch and gossip over.

Just about doing everything to pull other's nerve short of actually killing them.

See, James is a free spirit, we know he loves to fool around and be praised for just plain existing.

Lily on the other hand is an uptight person.

So on paper they work. Opposite attract. Enemies to lovers sorta of way.

I even agree that james's determination equals Lily's stubbornness.

BUT. We know Lily is okay putting her head under the sand as long as she keeps on liking you. know this because apparently Snape has been going around calling slurs to every muggleborn except her. She never stopped him, never fought with him on it. Just this one time he calls her, she burst like a volcano on him. So, her righteousness is more of self-righteous ness and not a charity for all.

Applying this to jily relationship. In the beginning with teenage hormones and budding romance, she let's James's dark side slide over. But then as things progress to marriage, she begins seeing him without rose tinted glasses.

He is good but he is bad too.

What is even worse is that she can see james being his usual grey shade of person with everyone but her. Around her he tries to be this picture perfect human being.

That irks her even more. Making her realise that just like james is hiding his bad side from lily, Lily herself is hiding her bad traits from herself. James working like a mirror to her own personality. Where she is selfish and callous and mean.

Still she let's things slide, hides her dark side and let james do the same with her.

But then the breaking point is her meeting with snape. Snape who is still the same sourpuss human being who doesn't even try to convince people that he is a decent human being. He let's people think whatever they want to think about him.

When she reunites with her ex friend, she lets go of that part of herself where she always tries to be the sweet kind person. always on the show. Realising how much heavy it is to be in a relationship where she has the role of being james's moral police.

James on the other hand thought that this is what life is supposed to be. Get a job. Marry a nice girl, have kids and then keep on living.

Always a little jealous of Sirius who lives life like a nomad. Trying various careers but never settling for one. Trying dating but never long term. All around happy with how life is going.

Meanwhile for james realising that adulthood is not all that fun as he had thought as a kid. All the responsibilities and what not. Always a little scared of what next flaw of his lily will point out, silently demanding him to hide it from her.

The sense of loss of freedom and the taste of it whenever he is with Sirius.

...

This story can have so many permutations and combinations. I will list top 5 here,

James and lily keep on living their life as it is. Never daring to take leap of faith. Getting broken and hurting each other and their children but never letting go. Disabled in their belief that this is how life is supposed to be.

Lily realises it is time to move on but James doesn't want to. In the end james is left alone with his school days sweetheart dumping him out of nowhere. (Delusional James.)

Opposite for lily. Not understanding why james want to break their perfectly lovely marriage. (Delusional Lily)

James and lily talk. Have a easy divorce, become friends. Share with each other that they are in love with their respective bffs. Help each other get their men. Here things can go two ways-

A) Happily ever after with snily and Prongsfoot.

B) This one is my favorite because I love the idea of pampered and cherished kids lily and james having to live an adult life with endless grief.

Sirius and snape have begin tryst. And before they can tell Sirius and snape about their feelings, s and s tell them that they are dating. Later, snape and Sirius live happily ever after meanwhile lily and james are broken and lost forever.

I like this last ending the most despite being an avid fan of Prongsfoot because the devotion that Sirius has for james and snape has for lily, it is uncanny. They stopped living for themselves and begin living for the love of their lives.

And whatever james and lily try to do, I don't think they could ever be as obsessive and gone as Sirius and Snape are for them.

These boys had bad lives as children.so I like the idea of them getting a chance to move on, getting loved by an equally giving partner. Matching their own worship.

Canon Lily and james will, in my humble opinion, leave a lot to desired. Making Sirius and snape feel like a second choice. Always left doubting are they not enough.?

So yeah, Sirius and snape not even realising that the love they waited all the years for is now being offered to them when they got over it and begin channeling it to a different person. They simply begin healing each other from their respective unrequited love. In the process falling for each other... (I will pay to read this!!!)

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

MCD#1 DONATION COMMISSIONS!

hi guys!! as many of you already know, a really bad earthquake has hit the turkey and syria area. to do my part in helping rescue efforts, i will be opening donation commissions!

what are they?

donation commissions are in the name: you donate to a charity that’ll use the funds towards humanitarian relief, and i’ll write you a request!

where can i donate?

i encourage you to do your own research to pick out a reliable and honest organization. as a starting point, this new york times article has a list of organizations that are accepting donations.

how will it work?

you will dm me a timestamped screenshot of your donation, and i’ll write you a request! i will write 100 words for every $1 usd donated, and you can pick between headcanons or written oneshots! i will ask that in the case of larger donations, i will cap the word count at anywhere from 8k-10k words, solely for my own stamina.

you are welcome to dm me here or on discord (rhomphaia#4157)!

what will you write?

just about anything! you’re welcome to browse any of my masterlists for samples! pls dm if you’re interested in seeing samples that might not be present on this blog!

ok with: oc x canon, canon x canon, reader insert, nsfw (for 18+ donors), almost all genres and subjects

not ok with: anything super uncomfortable. use ur better judgement for this pls n thx

fandoms: blue lock, twisted wonderland, mahoyaku, haikyuu, boku no hero academia, yumekuro, and more! if you’re not sure, please feel free to ask!

what if i can’t donate?

that’s alright! i encourage you to rb this post and find people who are willing to donate! obviously, it would be nice if people could donate out of the goodness of their hearts, but i understand not everyone has the financial means to do so.

so for that: for every 50 rbs this post gets, i’ll pick one random reblog to win a 1k wc fic!

i have other questions as to how this will work!

feel free to drop an ask or send me a dm! i once did a similar donation commission event on one of my old deleted blogs with a lot of success, and i’d love to do my part to help those in need.

other than that, thank you so much for your attention thus far! let’s all come together and do our best to uplift the brave souls heading out to help!!

[faebriel]

this might sound a lil weird but I’m going into college soon n was wondering if u had any advice 😓 bleh chronic anxiety sucks

hiya!! omg first of all congrats, college is so exciting <3 anxiety makes things scary but genuinely it's a super exciting accomplishment and time of your life for sure

my exp with uni in australia is probably a bit different - for example we don't really board at uni unless you live very regionally! so unforchies i don't have much advice on things like dorms and rooming which i know would be a huge shift. i guess if any followers have advice feel free to reply/reblog?

otherwise here is my advice for a stress-minimal tertiary education experience:

it's good to figure out How You Study and How You Stay Organised ASAP. one of the biggest shifts from high school to university for me was keeping on top of all of my assignments/readings/study along with work, social life, going outside and seeing the sun etc. think about - where do you study best, at home/in your dorm or in a library? do you need people around to motivate you to focus (my uni had drop-in study sessions at the library, which might be less distracting than friends) or do they distract you? does a digital planner or a diary help you keep track of what you need to do? (i tried keeping a diary for YEARS and failed multiple times - it just doesn't work for my brain! i need that shit on a phone! and that's ok.) even if you feel like you should be able to keep on top of your study and stuff the "normal" or "expected" way... sometimes your brain just doesn't work like that. don't be afraid to experiment with different ways of planning your day or different ways of studying. first year of college is the perfect time for this! go digital, go paper, print out your readings, make a big visual brainstorm or collage instead of taking rote notes. find out what sticks in your brain and do that.

for study - don't be afraid to be proactive in class and ask your professors if there are any practice questions or past assignments you can review. just try to ask towards the start of semester, not right before your due dates.

do at least 50% of your assigned readings before class. really you should do all of it unfortunately but sometimes you hit a busy week and shit happens. on those weeks, aim for 50%

join a club! social ones are great to know people, and there are also field/industry ones which can help you get internships and experience and find people who are also in the field you study. my uni at least also had a lot of nonprofit/charity clubs which are great for 1) giving back to the community 2) making friends and 3) it looks good on a resume okay i'll just be honest with you

try not to wind up on the executive team of a club tho unless it's a great environment, something you're passionate about, and something you have time for. ultimately, you're at college for your education - extracurriculars like clubs are nice, but don't kill yourself over keeping them afloat. (this one comes from experience!)

and following on from some of those... everyone is expecting freshers to be awkward. social clubs are, teachers are, everyone. i know it's so silly to be like "just try not to be socially anxious!" but for me realising that literally everyone i spoke to expected me to be awkward and kind of out of my depth as a fresher helped. you can show up to a social event for a club, decide that it's not your vibe, and just not come back. or only come to every 2 or 3 events. that is totally fine. no one is checking your name at the door (and if they are, it's just so they can count attendance and prove to the college that they should be allowed event budgeting money because people do come to their events - it's nothing personal!) it's okay to be in a club for one semester and then leave, or stay for two years.

if asking questions in class makes you anxious, ask your teacher if they have office hours - in my experience they prefer this to emailing.

and if there's something you're struggling with - they literally have a degree in explaining what they're teaching to you, they won't mind catching you up to speed in office hours if you need extra help. if they're an asshole, look on your college website or ask around your class if possible to see if there are other teachers on campus who can help you. googling your course and the teacher can also help too - a lot of the time people who have issues with a prof and are looking for alternatives will post about it online.

some unis/colleges also have student services that provide counselling - they deal with general and social anxiety cases a lot. i won't lie, some of them are useless. but some of them will be really familiar with your college campus and be able to give you really specific advice about managing anxiety

having to retake a unit sucks, but stressing yourself to death about it is worse. sometimes that's just a punch you have to roll with

look for internships and work experience as soon as possible - it's good practice for writing resumes whether you get the position or not, they're great for figuring out if you really like the field you're aiming for, and they're great for building references for getting a job later. idk my uni had a platform where they would advertise a wholeee lot of internships which helped figure out where to look exactly. i'll be honest there aren't many for first years, but the earlier you start becoming aware of what's around, the less stressful it is towards the end of your degree

missing class cos you're sick happens. email the teacher ASAP and let them know, hopefully they can give you material to catch up on. some classes have absence policies but i'll be honest i finished my degree mid COVID and no one knew what was going on

if there's something like ADHD you should be being treated for i would suggest getting on top of that real early

most importantly........PRIORITISE YOUR HEALTH !! burnout is real. chronic flu is real. wrecking your sleep schedule is real and it hurts you. we have a saying in aus that Ps (passes) Get Degrees. obviously do your best and all but sometimes you're sick or something has come up and taken all your assignment time or w/e and you just gotta go for the P this time. always always communicate with your tutor, let em know you're sick or having trouble as soon as possible. most of the time they are understanding and not assholes. if they are, well, that's their choice to be an asshole. (and if they are violating your rights as a student, go to student services/your guild and rip them a new one.) but you're keeping them informed, and that's supposed to be what they want.

ok this list is long as hell sorry 😭 tl dr is 1) prioritise your health 2) figure out how YOU stay organised and study 3) join clubs for fun and profit 4) always ask the "stupid" question to your prof because someone else is probably also thinking the same thing. love and light i hope you have the best college experience!!!!!!

[sofiadragon]

Just be honest if you want to punish Tony Stark for his faults.

I just read a Wanda Stan post that says that Tony never took any accountability for his actions, saying that he really needed to just take responsibility. Admit his wrongs, and all that. Except that was clearly not what they ment when I read the rest of the rant.

About half the points were good in the beginning, but I could never reblog such a flawed mess of the strawman fannon argument it devolved into. They repeatedly say paying money to help fix things after the fact or setting up programs to try and prevent it from happening again doesn’t count as taking responsibility. That all Tony's charity work, which predates Ironman, is meaningless because money is meaningless to someone that rich. They go on to say none of Tony's positive actions in any of his movies matter, and (while accusing the pro-Tony set of using fanfiction as arguments) claiming that Tony fully approved the sale of every weapon Obadiah sold on the black market under the table. It gives the impression that Tony personally signed off on the order to bomb Wanda's home. Ford is not responsible for what Darrell Brooks Jr. did with their potentially deadly product. Sokovia was a war zone canonically. Is the company in Egypt that made the bombs Russia bought the only responsible entity for the deaths in Ukraine? I thought not.

But that's not what got me to rant. You know how Tony fails to take responsibility for the problems he has in his relationship with Pepper Pots according to this?

Blaming his own bad decisions for their breakup.

Excuse me, but if I make a bad decision and I say afterwards "my life got messed up because of this bad decision I made" then guess what?

That is the textbook definition of taking accountability for one's actions. He said he messed up and tried his best to do what the person he hurt wanted to make up for it, and he succeeded in that effort.

What more do you want? He's not perfect and he certainly isn't a white knight on a shining horse, but at least be fair to the man. He tries to do better, and sometimes he does it wrong.

He got it wrong with Peter. Even if he knows the kid is nearly indestructible and expected to just have a conversation to settle things with Steve in Civil War, he still shouldn't bring a minor overseas to a fight. He knows it, too, and that's probably part of why he backs off and lets Happy be a man in the middle.

He gives Happy the responsibility of monitoring Peter because Tony doesn't think he is able to do it well - the last kid/superhero he tried to make was Ultron, and if he's a monster for that then let's be consistent and applaud him for being more cautious this time. If it really was all Tony (and not any influence from Bruce who also worked on Ultron or the corrupt mind stone scepter that forces people to experience negative emotions, and we'll pretend that Tony is obviously lying when he says "we didn't have an interface") that messed up Ultron as Tony clearly believes to be true by the time of Civil War, then having someone else as Peter's first contact is a good decision. Tony doesn't know that Peter is too intrinsically good to go down a dark path. I don't think he believes in that kind of goodness in people, anyone can go wrong with the right motivation in his mind which is why he scoffs at Rogers saying that everyone has evil ulterior motives except his Avengers 'safest hands,' but I digress.

It was Happy who dropped the ball by never responding to Peter, or telling his boss that this was a task he just couldn't handle and needed to be given to someone else. Yes, he is an employee, but Happy doesn't have the same relationship to his boss as the average fry cook has to the Burger King CEO. Stark might insist that Happy give it another try, but he isn't going to fire him. In the meantime, Happy could have texted back once or twice - even just to tell the kid that the constant alerts weren't alright on what was supposed to be an emergency line and he should keep the status updates to once or twice a day.

So many of these stan rants make it sound like only one person can be in the wrong when a mistake is made. This is childish. That Tony was wrong doesn't mean others were not also wrong. That Wanda was wrong doesn't mean she wasn't lied to. Shared responsibility doesn't mean you pick a scapegoat that get 100% of the blame, nor that someone else taking part of the blame fully absolves everyone else.

Natasha feels guilty she didn't notice that she was going on missions that helped HYDRA goals after CA: Winter Soldier because she feels she should have been able to tell the difference. It is not entirely her fault, but she isn’t blameless and wants a new, clean, chain of command to replace SHIELD because she recognizes that she could be misled into doing the wrong things if she is only relying on her own BS detector and information gathering skills.

Yes, please do also apply this to Wanda Maximoff joining Hydra. She didn't know at first, but she certainly knew by the time we met her.

Yes, a boss is responsible for an employee screw up when they give bad direction, but so is the employee when they ignore their responsibilities. So Happy does share that blame. The oof is a big oof, and there is plenty to go around.

One final note:

This is not taking accountability, this is punishment:

If the only thing that would satisfy you that Tony Stark has real remorse for his actions is him groveling on his knees, you don't want accountability you want punishment. Be honest about what you want.

[kaki9]

Okay, I don't normally add things to what I reblog but I feel extremely strongly about this. (tl:dr - I work my arse off in care to make sure the people I look after live with dignity and am hurt by the idea that we're like a prison)

I don't know where this person is from (I'm guessing the US, let's face it this is tumblr) but I do not like to think that people see care homes and nursing homes as "carceral in nature". Being in a care home is not a punishment, it's a place where people go whose family can't look after them.

There are people who need round the clock care which can't be given by members of their family. People in their 80s, living with dementia, whose only carer is their spouse also in their 80s? Those are the types of people who need care homes. The other option is going to be care breakdown.

I agree that there are bad eggs in care homes, but I defy any workplace with more than 10 employees not to have a bad egg. That's why all the safeguarding laws exist.

Here's my main point. Care and nursing homes (at least in the UK) are chronically underfunded and understaffed. To all the people in the tags talking about neglect, I'd say yes, it happens. I've known days where staff have called in sick and the company can't afford agency staff and one carer has been with 20 residents with dementia. You try making sure all 20 are able to wash, dress, and have breakfast, let alone have a fulfilling and enjoyable day. That is not the fault of the care staff and I don't want to see them demonised for trying their best. If you don't work in the industry, you probably have no idea what goes on there. Here's a list of things of things I've seen care staff do in the last month alone:

Pay out of their own pocket for a resident to see a chiropodist because the council who fund them will only pay for the most basic of care

Buy incontinence products from charity shops to ensure that residents who need them aren't going without

Go to supermarkets on their unpaid lunch break to buy toiletries for residents who don't have them

Bring in clothes from home for residents who don't have enough

Use their own money (their own minutes, their own credit) to ensure that elderly residents with dementia can still talk to their relatives when the home's entire phone system went down

Take the time out of their (remember, unpaid) lunch break to sit and comfort the bereaved relatives of a resident who had passed away

Work a 12 hour night shift and then go to the hospital to sit with a resident in a&e for 4 hours when no relief arrived for the carer who was with them over night. That same person then showed up for their next night shift (12 hour shifts are the norm for the industry, I myself have worked an 18 hour shift in an emergency and then showed up for shift the next morning. I also know someone who worked full 12 hour shifts 16 days in a row)

Do paperwork one handed for five hours because one of their residents is so anxious that she needs someone to hold her hand to feel safe (the state won't fund a 1-1 carer for her)

Take a resident room to room on a 28 person medication round because that resident lives with dementia and is so anxious and distressed that if they are left alone for more than 1 minute, they will try to walk and fall (again, the state won't fund 1-1, restraint is unlawful, and the care staff has to correctly administer multiple medications to each person, ensure that all of the counts are correct, make sure that each resident takes their medication or that it is documented that they declined, ensure that each resident who takes their medicine is comfortable doing so and left safely afterwards, and keep up constant dialogue with the anxious resident so that they feel safe and comfortable otherwise they will fall and seriously injure themselves. Be honest with me here - would you be able to do this?)

Have such a bad shift that when a visiting relative brought in a packet of biscuits for the staff, they cried at their desk, immediately faking a smile when a resident approached to ask for help with peeling a satsuma

Calmly deal with injuries that look like something out of a warzone

Save the life of a choking resident (with dementia) and then calmly explain to that resident multiple times an hour for several weeks that it is no longer safe for them to have a bag of crisps as their SALT prescribed diet is there to prevent them choking, perhaps fatally (as the resident lacks capacity it would be neglect to allow them to have the crisps, and of course you can't stop any other residents from enjoying a bag of crisps if they fancy some, right in front of said resident with dementia)

Spend two entire days phoning and emailing mental health crisis teams about a resident experiencing an episode of psychosis, and receive no help whatsoever until said resident dislocates a joint whilst throwing furniture at staff (mental health support is virtually non-existent in this country unless you are directly suicidal or have the money to pay for therapy)

And all of that is just the stuff above their actual job roles, their job roles which are generally paid less than 50p over minimum wage. Care homes might not always be very nice places, and yes, we are all fallible and all make mistakes from time to time, but I'd love for you all to see what we're up against.

Care home staff are a mixture of carers, friends, chiropodists, personal shoppers, dietitians, dentists, dermatologists, psychologists, therapists, bereavement counsellors, comedians, and actors (trust me on this, I do not want to be smiling at you when you complain that your dad's glasses have a smudge on them after the day I've had. I have probably been urinated on, bled on, and had to try to comfort a nonagenarian who has just remembered out of nowhere that their mother died in the 70s)

So, to sum up, working in a care home is a constant struggle and we do not do this often thankless task for people on the internet to accuse us of being prison-like.

[multifandomwhore-003]

Too Busy

Pairings: JJ Maybank x female! OC, fake dating Rafe Cameron x female! OC

Summary: JJ Maybank's ex is a kook, not any kook tho, she's the daughter of the mayor who's recently been involved with the kook prince himself Rafe Cameron.

Genre: Angst.

Warning: None!

Gif credits to whom it belongs

𓆉︎𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝙿𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𓆉︎ REQUESTS OPEN, REQUEST HERE THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK Reblog if you like

"We'll be here in less than a week, okay?" Your dad handed you over the keys, "Rember, be good and call him, I need those boxes empty by tomorrow okay?"

You nodded, "Tell mom I miss her,"

"I will," he hugged you before exiting the house.

Now you were alone, again. As much as you wanted to catch your dad before he got to the helicopter and companion him to Hawaii, you couldn't. Now, there were three things you could do in this situation:

a) You stayed home and watch Netflix

b) You go to the Camerons', which included getting ready, getting photographed by the paparazzi, answer random interviews, and always having to make good publicity for your dad and Ward. You rolled your eyes hating to be the Mayor's daughter.

c) Call... you know who.

Or secret option d) Do the job of you know who so you don't have to call him.

The first option was too boring, the second one seemed like a lot of effort, and the third one well... to be honest, it was the most appealing and you knew the last one wasn't even an option.

You scrolled through your contacts and finally found it, you stared at it while analyzing if it was a good idea or not. You sighed blocking the phone. Why? Why did you have to be perfect? Having to smile, wave, and talk as little as possible; always have good grades, get an MIT; do charity work, attend events, give speeches; be kind, generous, humble, smart, funny, classy. You didn't hate it, you just never thought it would be this hard, your job was just to make it seem effortless, it didn't matter how many times your Dad scolded you and made you consider other people who are going through worse, you still wanted to escape it.

"Fuck" you muttered under your breath, you knew exactly what you were gonna do, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you hated yourself, "Fuck you Maybank," you clicked his name and the phone began to call.

You guys were more chill now that your father forced you to behave yourselves, but you still needed to clear somethings up.

"Well, well, well," you didn't need to see him to know he had an obnoxiously cocky smile across his face, "If it isn't Victoria Lewis," he couldn't let you hear his surprise and hurt.

"Hi JJ,"

"Let me guess, your parents are trying to save their marriage again by going to Hawaii?"

"Fuck you,"

He chuckled over the line, "I'm just messin' with you, I'll be there in 10,"

You hung up.

˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙

"Yeah, he can come in," you clarified to security and hung up.

After a few seconds, the blonde boy crossed the front gate.

He was already familiar with the drill; having the guards call your house, get across the garden, and into the parking lot, you waiting for him on the spot he already knew was his.

"I'll never get bored of this," he took his helmet off.

"I thought you'd be over it by this point," you leaned against the vehicle.

"Nah, I mean, I feel pretty special. I'm pretty sure I'm the only Pogue that gets to be here," he got close to you while crossing his arms, "So, are you gonna tell me why you call me, or should I just assume it?"

"You know exactly why you're here,"

For a second he was confused, then his face flushed, "You're kidding, right?"

"I wished I was,"

He took a deep breath frustrated.

"Don't get mad, you're the one who took the job, besides, he personally asked for you since Sally is out of town," you explained.

"Of course she is," he agreed with irony.

"You just have to do a couple of boxes, and I uh- I'll help you out,"

He bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating, "Fine," he rolled his eyes.

"Don't be dramatic, it's not that bad,"

"Just because you'll be there,"

And now, you were still sliding book by book, binder by binder into the shelves.

"I hate this job," JJ folded another empty box.

"At least you're not alone doing it,"

"Yeah," he cut the tape of the biggest box and walked to your side.

"Oh no, no, no, no, those go on the bottom row,"

He sighed, kneeled, and started over.

As you finished your box, you realized you were tired. JJ was right, his fucking job sucks and it wasn't a very difficult one, but being one of Outer Bank's mayor's assistants wasn't great either.

"Finish that row and I'll tell him your dad called you and you had to leave,"

"No, I uh- I need the complete money,"

"He left me the complete money, I'll just deal with him later, okay?"

"Thanks," he snickered as he finally got up.

"Want a beer?" you opened the minifridge.

"Hell yeah,"

"Lucky for you, he just bought those British ones you like so much,"

He admired the Golden glory label before tasting it, it lived up to its name, "Well, I guess the only thing good about this job is that I get to get a beer after," he sat on your dad's chair.

You sat on the desk taking a sip of your soda, you're not much of a drinker. Now you were in complete silence, it's not that easy to try and have a normal conversation with an ex you ended in not so good terms.

Flashback

"Oh, sorry I'm late baby, I was just-"

"Busy, I know, you always are," he was annoyed, "You could've just called, you know? Not be late for almost three hours,"

"Baby, I couldn't even grab my phone I'm so sorry,"

"We should just call it a night, okay? Kie already canceled our reservations anyways,"

"We don't need a restaurant to have a nice date,"

"It's our anniversary Victoria, it was supposed to be special,"

"Well, I'm-"

"Can you stop apologizing? For once, I already know you're sorry, all the time,"

You were speechless.

He scoffed, "Wow, alright I'm gonna leave,"

"JJ," you tried to grab his arm.

"I can't keep doing this Victoria, I can't, you're always busy with some charity event or an interview or school,"

"What- what are you saying?" You gulped.

He sighed, "I'm breaking up with you,"

"What? No, JJ I really am sorry for not being here today,"

"But it's not just today! It's every single day! You always have something more important than us, always! And it's fucking exhausting! I'm exhausted!"

"Of course I have important things to do! That's what being the daughter of the mayor means!"

"Well I didn't sign up to date the daughter of the mayor, I want to date you!"

"Of course you did! You did the minute you decided to talk to me while volunteering to help my dad's campaign! The minute you started to work for him! The minute you took me on a date and kissed me! The minute you asked me to be your girlfriend!"

"Well, I didn't think he was actually gonna win!"

"That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard you say," You spat, "And you don't get to quit on us especially when I haven't! I told you I loved you and you didn't say it back! Did I give you crap about it? No, I didn't, instead, I decided to not pressure you to say it!"

"Well, if you're waiting for me to say it now I'm the one who's sorry because I don't love you Victoria!" He did, he really did, "And I don't know if I ever will!"

"Good! Thanks for telling me so I don't keep wasting my time on someone who's not worthy of it!" You turned to leave, but then remembered and returned in front of him, "And for the record, I'm leaving you because you're an asshole! You're a quitter! God, my father was right about you!" You hit his shoulder a few times, "I hate you Maybank! I hate you!"

"No, you hate yourself because I'm not your charity case anymore, you couldn't fix me and you can't live with the idea of failing, can you?"

You slapped him, hard, "It's not my job to fix you, but good luck getting over your daddy issues all by yourself, " You hissed before walking away.

End of flashback

"How are the Pogues?" you asked before feeling more uncomfortable.

"Missing you,"

"Really?"

"Yeah, John B refuses to play Monopoly with anyone but you, Pope's always strugglin' with school now more than ever since you're not there to teach him social sciences, Kiara's all alone again at school since you started homeschool; so yeah, they are basically falling apart without you,"

You bit your tongue before asking, you wanted to know but it just wasn't right to say it. Since there was no response from you, you stayed in complete silence again, itching silence, so irritant you both wanted to cut it but weren't sure what to say, so JJ changed the subject.

"So, you and Rafe Cameron seem to catch people's attention," he broke the ice.

"It's just publicity,"

"Really? I mean, that date on the beach seemed pretty real," he was getting a bit defensive.

"It was all fake, Ward planned it, who do you think called the paparazzi?"

"So there's nothing between you and Rafe?"

"Ew, no," you grimaced.

"Did Ward plan the rest of the dates or just that one?"

"No, I had to plan them because I needed to bring attention to my event, besides I could never date Rafe Cameron,"

"And why is that? I mean he's perfect for you, he's handsome, he's funny, great around crowds, your parents love him; I mean, why not?"

"Because Rafe Cameron is an asshole,"

"True," you both chuckled, "For how long are you planning to fake date?"

"I dunno, for as long as necessary I guess, people seem to love us together and some hate us but like my dad says, any publicity is good publicity,"

"So you're gonna play the long game, huh?"

"Yeah, mostly because my mom wants me to marry the guy and my dad just adores him,"

The phone rang and you had to pick it up.

"Hi, yeah he can come in," as you finished the call you looked at JJ, "Speak of the devil,"

"He's here?"

"Yeah, he uh- sometimes comes just to be followed by the paparazzi and tell them he's coming here,"

"Oh," he nodded, "Do you want me to go or-"

"No, it's fine we don't even talk to each other so," you raised your shoulders.

"Maybe you should, I mean if you're gonna keep fake dating I think you should at least get to know him," he suggested.

"I guess you're right,"

"So I uh- I've been thinking a lot about us lately like what went wrong," he abruptly confessed, "And I owe you an apology,"

"Why? I mean our relationship went downhill the minute my dad became mayor and decided to make me his best publicity element,"

"Yeah, but I also gave up too quickly, I should've been more tolerant and all I did was fuck it up even more with my selfishness," he finished his beer.

"Well now that we're saying things like that, I could've made more time for us but I just thought that my dad was more important and all of my life was just falling apart,"

"You deserve someone who's schedule is more flexible,"

"And you deserve someone with more time,"

It was nice to have an actual conversation with no yelling and a cold mind, it somehow felt mature; you both loved each other but now it was a different type of love, it was more of an "I wish you the best and if anything goes wrong I'll always be here" type of love, you could wonder of what it would be like if you ever went back together, but you didn't want to, you both know the best thing was to stay apart.

"You should go with Rafe," he smirked.

"I-"

"Have you ever actually talked to him? Like a deep type of conversation?"

"No," you muttered.

"Then go with him, if you're still planning of becoming president he'll make the perfect guy to marry, we both know this won't end anytime soon,"

"God, I hate when you're right," you rolled your eyes.

"Go," he insisted.

As you left the room he knew at that moment, that he had officially lost you, he let you go for a greater good. He was now whisked in emotions, nostalgia, happiness, sadness, and a touch of anger.

He smiled, because for the first time in his life he finally did something purely good.

[ephemeralstark]

An Intern’s Ordeal

Summary:  Peter gets invited to the Annual Stark Charity Gala, only he thinks he's attending as an intern and panics because he doesn't even know how to make coffee so how can he manage an actual event. Throw in a stab wound, some fractured ribs, a healthy dose of self-deprecation and a case of mistaken identity, and Tony realises that Peter really doesn't understand how much he means to him.

Rated T | Irondad | Completed | 10k

AN: i hope you all enjoy, i’ll add the link to read on ao3 in a reblog if you guys prefer that!! tw for injuries and blood, stay safe my lovelies and the tag list is at the end! 

“You know,” Peter commented idly as he set down the wrench Mr. Stark had handed him on the table, “when you said you wanted me to come over and help out in the workshop, this wasn't exactly what I thought you’d have planned.” 

“No?” Mr. Stark wondered as he held out a hand for the weird caps Peter was still tightly gripping after being warned not to lose them, “what did you think we were going to do?” 

“I don’t know, really,” Peter shrugged dismissively, “but I kinda thought it would be something to do with Spider-Man.” 

“Spider-Man?” Mr. Stark spoke as though he had forgotten who Spider-Man was, as though he wasn't sitting in the same room as him, before cursing slightly under his breath and dropping one of the caps.

“Yeah, you know? The red and blue guy who swings over the city on webs that he made himself because he’s so totally cool and smart.” 

“I know who Spider-Man is, kid,” Mr. Stark said rolling his eyes at Peter, “can you grab that wrench again? Then get down here, it’s your turn to do a bit of work.” 

“Well, I’m just saying you sounded a bit confused,” Peter said as he jumped off his stool and crouched by the engine on the floor, the smell of motor oil and grease making his head spin a little, he blamed his enhanced sense of smell for that as he other man didn't seem to be affected by it.

“Not about Spider-Man,” Mr. Stark corrected him, before frowning and giving Peter a serious look, “Pete, do you think I only keep you around because of your abilities?” 

“Uh,” Peter faltered, unable to find the words to explain how he did think that but not in a way that made Mr. Stark seem like a bad guy, just in a way that proved Peter wasn't any more special than the next intern who passed through the halls of Stark Industries. 

A look of understanding seemed to cross Mr. Stark’s face and before Peter could even open his mouth he continued to speak, “hey, actually,  how would you feel about coming to this charity Gala on Saturday?” 

“Wh- wait, what?” 

That… had been the last thing Peter expected Mr. Stark to say, why would he invite him to a Gala? Didn't he realise that Peter was probably the last person in the world who should be invited to a fancy event - in fact, he wasn't entirely sure he owned a suit, would that be an issue? Maybe he could borrow that one of Ben’s he wore to Homecoming. 

“Charity Gala,” Mr. Stark repeated, “it's a big event with suits, ties, dresses, and champagne; lots and lots of champagne, not that you’re allowed to drink that, but as Stark Industries is the organiser of the even then I can make sure we have plenty of soda. So, what’s your favourite: Coke, Pepsi, Dr Pepper, Sprite, Fanta…” 

“Uh, I don't- I don't know,” Peter stammered, “just whatever you want is fine with me.” 

“Come on, Kiddo, I want to make this enjoyable for my favourite intern, so what’s your drink of choice?” 

“Uh, Dr Pepper, maybe?” Peter said unsurely. 

“You got it,” Mr. Stark said, “now come on, get your head in the game, we need to rebuild this engine.” 

“Why are we doing this?” Peter wondered, still feeling slightly confused by the conversation that had just occurred, he felt like there was a deeper meaning to it.

“By the time I was your age, I’d lost count of the number of engines I’d rebuilt, this is a young genius’ rite of passage.” 

I’m not a genius, Peter thought to himself but instead of voicing the thought aloud, he focused his attention on the task at hand. Or, he tried to, at least, the truth was that he was slightly caught up on Mr. Stark’s comment about wanting his favourite intern at the Charity Gala. 

Was that his way of saying that he wasn't keeping Peter around because of his Spider-Man abilities, but rather because of his status as a Stark Industries intern? But that couldn't be right, Peter wasn't even a good intern - he usually just fiddled around in the workshop and tried to improve his Spider-Man equipment before attempting to eat Mr. Stark out of house and home. So, why wouldn't he take a better intern to the Gala? And what exactly would be expected of Peter on Saturday? 

“Kid?” Mr. Stark poked Peter’s arm making him jump in shock and his head snapped to the side to see his mentor staring at him with a slightly concerned expression, “you good? You’re off in your own world tonight, I’m starting to get a little worried and you know me; I don’t like to be worried, I like to be blase in most situations.” 

“I’m yeah, I’m good, don’t worry,” Peter lied, “I was just thinking about this US History project I’ve got to hand in soon.” 

“History?” Mr. Stark muttered, screwing up his nose in disgust, “you go to a STEM school, right? Shouldn't they be focusing on the sciences more than history?” 

“Well, you know how it is,” Peter muttered with a shrug, “those who are ignorant of history are doomed to repeat it, and I suppose they have to give us a rounded education.” 

Mr. Stark cast him a dubious glance, “you sure that’s the saying, Bud?” 

“Well, it’s close, I think,” Peter mumbled, “anyways, I like history, I don't think it’s something I’ll pursue as a career but the class is interesting enough.” 

“A career?” Mr. Stark asked jerking back in shock, “in history?”

“Not for me,” Peter repeated, “I don’t know, I’ll probably go into research or scientific development or something, I haven't thought about it in too much detail, to be honest.” 

“You haven't- Kid, what? You should absolutely be thinking about this,” Mr. Stark said, “I know I’ve mentioned this before but I do have some pull at MIT. In fact, I have some pull at almost every college out there, you name it and I could probably get you in. What can I say? People love me.” 

“I just don't want to make a life-changing decision at fifteen,” Peter muttered, “I know I’m going to have to soon, but do you know how much people change and grow? I asked May and she said she’s nothing like the person she was as a teenager, so if that’s going to be the same for me, how do I know that I’ll choose the right career at this point in my life, I’d rather take the time and make that decision.” 

“Alright,” Mr. Stark said, “as much as I’d love to put you through college and have you working full time at Stark Industries, I can understand why you feel that way and it’s quite a mature observation - even though I hate it.” 

“You’d want me working here?” Peter asked with wide eyes. 

“Of course, you’re my favourite intern after all,” Mr. Stark said with what Peter was sure was meant to be a teasing grin, but all he could think about was the swooping in his stomach as those words were repeated. ‘Favorite intern’ was that Mr. Stark’s way of saying he was going to have to act like an intern at the Charity Gala?

He instantly began to feel nauseous, Mr. Stark was dropping hints about the intern thing which meant that he was absolutely expecting Peter to be on the ball at the Gala and he was only used to messing around in the lab. In fact, Peter was fairly sure that he’d never done anything intern-like; Mr. Stark had once asked Peter to turn on the coffee machine and Peter had merely shrugged, shoved a handful of sour patch kids in his mouth, and admitted that he had no idea how to make coffee. 

So really, Peter had never done an intern’s job, he was going into this completely blind. 

“Peter?” Mr. Stark prompted, “are you alright? Was that too much?” 

“I’m fine,” Peter said quickly, as he lurched to his feet, “I just really gotta go and… work on that project.” 

Peter stumbled over the toolbox on the floor, a testament to his distraction as his Spidey-Sense would have usually warned him of such obstructions, and grabbed his backpack off the ground. 

“Peter, wait-” 

But Peter didn't wait, or even hang around outside the door to the workshop to listen to the end of Mr. Stark’s sentence, he ran. Like a coward, his mind supplied. 

He wasn't a coward, he was just… scared that Mr. Stark was going to expect more of him than he was able to give, he didn't know how to be an intern, so really, was it any surprise that no one at school believed him? Ned probably would have eventually lost his trust in Peter after a while if it wasn't for the discovery that he was Spider-Man. 

Peter made his way upwards to the roof, instead of towards the main exit, slipping his web-shooters on over his wrists in preparation to swing home. 

“Peter, Boss has requested that I ask you to stay, at least for ten minutes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, which of course shouldn't have been a surprise considering she was everywhere in the building - except the bathrooms. 

“I can’t,” Peter said, guilt gnawing at his stomach as he spoke, “tell him that I’m sorry for rushing out, and it wasn't anything he said-” that was a lie but Mr. Stark didn't need to feel guilty about expecting Peter to do his job “-and maybe just say I’ll see him on Saturday, although if wants to he could text me the details?” 

“I’ll pass that along,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said gently, or as gently as a robotic voice could sound, “take care Peter, don't forget your mask and  swing safely.” 

“Thanks, F.R.I.,” he mumbled as the doors to the roof slid open and Peter breathed in the cool NYC evening air.

Taking note of her advice, he pulled his Spider-Man mask out of his backpack and pulled it over his head, he didn't bother changing fully into his suit, he was only going home - he had no plans to stop and fight any crimes. 

“Good evening, Peter, I heard from F.R.I.D.A.Y. that you were distressed, how are you now?” Karen greeted him instantly. 

“Of course you did,” Peter muttered, “I’m fine, don't worry, but can I ask you something?” 

“You just did, but of course I am your A.I. system therefore you can ask me as many questions as you’d like,” Karen told him. 

“Alright,” Peter mumbled, rolling his eyes behind the mask as he wondered whether she had been programmed to respond with that whenever he asked if he could ask a question, “uh, so theoretically if I asked you some questions would you have to tell Mr. Stark what I asked you?” 

“No, he only has override codes in case of an emergency, but I was designed to be yours alone and that must come with some degree of trust.” 

“Right,” Peter said, trying to process her words as he launched himself off the side of Stark Tower and felt the cold wind make his clothes flap in the breeze, his stomach swooped with the familiar, intoxicating fear of falling and he felt himself immediately perk up with the adrenaline rush. 

He waited until he could make out the shocked expressions of the people on the street before he shot a web, feeling the familiar tug on his arms as his fall was broken and he swung in an upwards arc - it felt like he was on a rollercoaster and he couldn't deny that he loved every moment of it. 

He had almost lost himself in the comforting thwips of web-slinging and the soothing breeze when Karen spoke up once more and reminded him of his concerns. 

“Did you want to ask me anything else?” she prompted. 

“Uh, yeah,”  Peter mumbled, “what would an intern typically wear to a Stark Industries Charity Gala?” 

“Mr. Stark doesn't typically take interns to his Galas,” Karen informed him, “however, I know that you’re asking this because you were invited this Saturday, therefore why don't you just wear formal attire.” 

“How did you know that?” Peter asked in a moment of paranoia. 

“I am connected to Tony Stark’s personal server which is the same server as F.R.I.D.A.Y. and she has the finalised guest list for the Gala which includes your name.” 

“Is there anything else there about me?” Peter wondered, “besides my name, that is?” 

“Unlimited access.” 

“Unlimited because I’m an intern, right?” Peter asked, “I have to be able to do what Mr. Stark needs during the Gala?” 

“I don't follow your line of questioning,” Karen said. 

“Yeah, no,” Peter mumbled, “I didn't really follow that either. How about this: what does an intern typically do?” 

“I need more context,” Karen said, “the job role of an intern depends on who they intern for.” 

“Alright, what does an S.I. intern do?” Peter corrected. 

“In which department?” 

“Mr. Stark’s personal intern, what would be expected of that person?” 

“The only person to ever fill that role is yourself, therefore I’m afraid that’s only a question you can answer as it was never an official post therefore I can’t source any information from a job application.” 

“So,” Peter said slowly as he swung, “you’re telling me that only I know the answer to the thing I don't know?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Great,” Peter mumbled, shaking his head to himself.

So basically he was the only person who had ever interned for Mr. Stark, which made sense, after all, Mr. Stark had always had Miss. Potts with him, she had been his assistant before she had taken over everything, therefore why would he need interns? If anything, Miss. Potts was probably the one who had interns, so what if Peter asked her? 

No. 

That wouldn't work, she and him hadn't seen each other a ton and if he went up to her and started asking weird questions she would either assume that he was looking for money or she’d grow suspicious and tell Mr. Stark about him questioning her. 

So, he was essentially lost. There didn't seem to be any clear answer about how to be a good intern for Mr. Stark or what would be expected of him on Saturday. To be fair he should have expected this to be harder than expected, his mentor wasn't one to play by the rules and why should this situation be any different? 

“Are you alright?” Karen asked, “you’re acting strange tonight, your behaviour is sparking concern.” 

“I’m fine,” Peter lied, “just worried about this project thing I have to prepare for school next week.” 

“You know, I am connected to a great deal of information, if you need help with a project, you can always ask me,” Karen reminded him. 

“Yeah, K, I know,” Peter murmured, “I just need to think, alright? I’m fine, I just need some time to myself.” 

“Noted.” 

And with that, she fell silent, finally, and Peter was left to his thoughts and worries. Which he had absolutely planned to do, except a piercing scream breaking through the night distracted him from himself. 

“No, no, please, my husband’s medication is in that bag!” A woman shouted, sounding panicked, “please, no, he has seizures and if you take his meds he will be in danger and my money is in there too, I can’t buy more pills.” 

Peter immediately changed his trajectory, so much for not getting involved in anything, I probably should have put the whole Spidey-Suit on, he thought to himself as his hearing honed in on the desperate sobs coming from an alleyway. 

The scene that met Peter in the alleyway made his blood boil and he felt himself gritting his teeth without meaning to; a lady who looked to be in her late seventies was clutching at her handbag as though her life depended on it, although judging by what Peter had previously heard, her husband’s did. The thief was tugging sharply and slashing the air between them with a sharp blade, he didn't seem to be trying to stab her, but he wasn't exactly being careful. 

“Hey!” Peter shouted, successfully distracting the thief who seemed to jump out of his skin and let go of the lady’s handbag on impulse. 

“Spidey?” the man asked, looking over Peter’s clothes with a confused frown which reminded Peter that he was wearing an incredibly dorky science T-Shirt with an amazing science pun on it, he would probably have to bin the shirt now, or at the very least retire it for a year or so. 

“Stealing a lady’s handbag?” Peter asked, not needing to put much effort into proving that he was disappointed in the guy, “really man? That’s low, especially when she’s told you her husband’s very important medications are in there.” 

“No one asked you, beat it!” 

“I can’t do that,” Peter said, “I’m going to have to insist that you walk away, maybe if you go in the opposite direction I won’t knock you out and call the police.” 

Alright, so maybe that was a lie and Peter was planning to web the guy up and call the cops no matter what he decided. 

“Oh, fuck off,” the man muttered. 

“Hey!” Peter shouted, “language!” 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the thief snapped, forgetting about the lady and her handbag in order to focus his attention on Peter. 

He made a quick hand motion to the lady to run, and thankfully she didn't need to be told twice as she instantly broke into a hasty trot away, her heels clicking on the concrete but the thief didn't seem to care, his attention was solely on Peter and the blade in his hands was no longer being held loosely, now it was poised to attack. 

“Woah, dude!” Peter muttered, holding his hands up as he backed off a few steps, “I take it back, you can use whatever language you want.” 

“Why couldn't you just keep swinging?” the man asked as he took a couple of calculated steps forward, “I had this all under control, why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to get involved?” 

“You were stealing that lady’s handbag,” Peter said, “and her husband’s medication, there’s nothing about that situation that is controlled.” 

“It was for me, alright?” the man screamed. 

Uh oh, Peter thought, from experience he had realised that when people were overly emotional, they became unpredictable. This man was armed and seemed desperate.

That was something that Peter occasionally struggled with; he was out almost every night as Spider-Man and often he stopped people who weren't truly bad but they were just in a difficult situation. Did that make him a bad person? Some of those ‘criminals’ were potentially only trying to scrounge money to feed their families. 

He couldn't think like that though because  if he started excusing some people’s bad actions and condemning others’, where did he draw the line? Spider-Man was the person who looked out for the little guy, he stopped crime, he didn't take statements and decide who was guilty or whose actions were justified. If someone did something wrong then he would stop them and that was that. 

“Look, I get you think you have your reasons for this, but it's wrong,” Peter said, “why don't you put the knife away, and maybe we can sort this out without anyone getting hurt?”

“You-” the man broke off, seemingly too angry to form a coherent sentence, instead he lunged forward, knife in hand. 

Peter hadn't been expecting that reaction, he had hoped the man would have been willing to compromise. In a desperate attempt to avoid being impaled on the guy’s blade, Peter forced himself through the air and he hit the ground with a thud, feeling as though something in the side of his chest had cracked. 

“Ouch,” Peter muttered, trying to ignore the whine he could hear in his own voice, he was meant to be the tough hero who fended for those who couldn't fend for themselves, “hey, man, that was seriously not cool.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” 

The man lunged at him again, still holding the knife, and Peter skittered backward like a crab until his back came up against a hard, metal surface: oh, the dumpster.  He desperately needed to get back up on his feet, he was at a serious disadvantage. 

His Spidey-Sense thrummed in alarm and he whirled around just in time to see the moonlight glint off the blade that was flying towards his face - this guy was aiming to kill! In a last-minute, desperate attempt, he pushed himself downwards so that the guy stabbed into the dumpster instead of Peter’s face, the blade cutting through the metal as though it were butter. 

“Dude, what the hell?” Peter gasped out from his place, flat on his back on the damp alleyway ground. 

“Stop moving,” the man grunted as he swung again. 

“What?” Peter asked, “no!” 

Why would he do the one thing that would mean certain death? Sure, he put on a spandex suit on a nightly basis and swung around the city at dizzying heights, but he didn't have a death wish. Besides, his suit had a certain degree of shock absorption ability, and it was cut-proof, which didn't always prevent Peter from getting hurt, but it definitely took away the brunt of his injuries.

Except he wasn't wearing his suit currently… 

He was very much just Peter Parker in a mask, although he did have his web-shooters. His web-shooters! Just as the guy lifted the blade, with two hands, looking as though he was ready to perform a sacrifice, Peter shot a web upwards and pulled himself out from certain death. 

As he flew upwards he felt the man strike one last time, and in his desperation, he succeeded. Pain radiated through Peter as the blade embedded in his thigh and was dragged downwards as Peter’s body moved up.

 “Ah!” Peter called out in agony, the man below in the alley laughed in victory. 

“Got the little bastard!” The man cheered as he started to run. 

Peter wanted to chase after him, web him up and make sure that he would never hurt another person ever, but he was smart enough to know that with the current state of his leg, he wasn't going to be chasing anyone. 

“Karen? You there?” Peter asked, despite knowing that she never went anywhere. 

“I’m here,” she confirmed, “I know you needed time to think, but I would seriously recommend seeking medical attention, you have a large laceration down your right thigh.” 

“I’m aware,” Peter said dryly, or tried to, his humour was shadowed by the pain that was coursing through him. 

“I can contact Mr. Stark if you would like?” she offered, and normally Peter would have said yes, he would have felt relief at the thought of his mentor coming to pick him up from the cold rooftop and taking him back to the tower where he would receive decent pain relief and have his wound cared for immediately. 

But, he couldn't say yes, because he had run out in such a strange way that the next time he saw Mr. Stark the man would undoubtedly have more questions than Peter was ready to answer. 

“No,” he said slowly, “but thanks, Karen, actually though… could you just alert the police to that guy, I don't care what you tell them, just make sure he can't hurt anyone else, please?” 

“Consider it done,” she said. 

Peter let out a breath of relief that he hadn't even realised he’d been holding. It was going to be alright, the cops would pick up the guy before he hurt anyone else, that lady would probably be at home with her husband by now and he could go home and patch himself up before he started to research further into interning at a fancy Gala. 

Or, that had been the plan. 

By the time he made it home, the sun was beginning to reappear in the sky and he could hear the sounds of the city waking up for another day. 

It's a good thing May was on the nightshift, Peter thought to himself as his apartment block finally came into view. 

His jeans were no longer blue, but rather a strange brownish red with the effect of a mixture of dried and still flowing blood. His blood. It wasn't often he ended up covered in his own blood, but these things happened he supposed. 

Taking advantage of the last hour or so of dim light, he carefully crawled up the side of the building, doing his best to make sure there wasn't a blood trail leading up to his window - he wouldn't be able to explain that one away easily. 

“You have a text from Mr. Stark,” Karen informed him. 

“Oh…” Peter mumbled and he painfully crawled through his bedroom window and let his body fall to the carpet with a thump, “what does it say?” 

“One message from Tony Stark, sent two minutes ago: hey Kiddo! I’m not really sure what happened back there, maybe I overstepped by bringing up colleges and working with me, or maybe you’re more interested in Oscorp - although I don't know why didn't you hear about their animal experimentation scandal? Probably not a good time for jokes, but let me know you’re alright, ok? I saw that Karen has been active all night, so try and get some sleep and just know that I’m not mad at all… I’m just a little confused, but there's no pressure here for you to explain what was up. “

“Do you think I upset him?” Peter asked his A.I. carefully as he lay on his bedroom floor, probably creating a mess of blood that he would be forced to scrub at later. 

“I like to think he was honest in the message, I believe he is just confused.” 

“It’s stupid,” Peter mumbled, “like, I shouldn't have freaked out, it was so dumb of me.” 

“Would you like to talk about it?” Karen offered.

“Uh, maybe?” Peter said, “I could keep the mask on while I clean this leg up.” 

“Sounds good,” and if Peter wasn't mistaken, her voice sounded gentle and reassuring, he was lucky that she was a computer program and didn't tire of him, or need to sleep. 

So, Peter carefully pulled himself back to his feet, crying out in agony as soon as he put weight on his bad leg. If the thought of trying to stand once more didn't fill him with dread, he would have crumbled instantly. 

“Shit,” he muttered, he wasn't one for regularly cursing but all things considered he felt the situation called for it, and there was no one around to hear, except Karen. 

He made his way slowly to the bathroom, dragging his leg rather than stepping to try and reduce the amount of muscle movement, not that it mattered, the blood still oozed out and the tearing sensation still made him feel nauseated. 

“I’m going to have so much blood to clean up before May comes home,” Peter whined to Karen as he pushed open the bathroom door, leaving a red smear behind. 

“Would you like me to contact Mr. Stark for you? He can hire a cleaning company,” Karen offered.

“A… cleaning company?” Peter asked, feeling ill at the thought, and not just from the pain he was in, “no, no that’s fine, thanks though.” 

He and May weren't poor per se, but they didn't often have an abundance of money to spare, and the thought of paying someone to come and clean their little apartment, when that money could have been used for gas or food, made Peter feel ill. He already caused their food bill to skyrocket thanks to his enhanced metabolism.

Peter sat down heavily on the side of the bathtub, letting the bright lights hurt his eyes momentarily. 

“Karen?” 

“Yes, Peter?”

“I didn't run out on Mr. Stark because I was upset that he had brought up college or offered me a position at Stark Industries,” Peter admitted, “I mean, it was a bit of a shock, and I know I’m going to have to decide what I want to do with my life soon enough because I can’t live in limbo until I know for sure, but yeah, working with Mr. Stark is the dream.”

“So why did you leave?” Karen asked. 

“He asked me to go to the Charity Gala,” Peter said.

“That’s a bad thing?” 

“No, no, no, not for a normal intern,” Peter admitted, “but for me, yeah, I’ve never actually done anything intern-y in my life, I don't even know how to make coffee because I don't drink it and that one time I tried to make it for May she made me promise to never put her through that again.” 

“So?” 

“So interns get coffee,” Peter said as he inched out of his jeans, the dried blood creating a kind of glue between the fabric and his skin. 

“You have never gotten coffee,” Karen informed him as though that wasn't partially what he was freaking out about. 

“Exactly,” Peter muttered, gently easing his clothing off was causing him too much pain, so he tore the jeans away from the wound in a sharp motion that made stars blink in and out of existence in his line of vision as darkness threatened at the edges. 

He didn't remember slipping off the side of the tub, but just as he thought he was going to lose the fight to stay awake, the fuzziness disappeared from his vision and he was blinking tiredly on the bathroom floor with his leg oozing fresh blood. 

“Peter? Peter!” 

“Ugh,” he groaned, “s’ok, ‘m fine.” 

“I really think it’s about time we sought more professional help,” Karen suggested. 

“No, no, it’s all good,” Peter said as he started to feel less dizzy from the agony, “besides, I was telling you stuff, remember?” 

“Indeed, would you like to continue?” 

“Yeah, uh, so, the coffee thing,” Peter mumbled as he gently nudged his jeans off properly, trying to avoid looking too closely at the blood on his leg as he did so, “well, it’s just that I’ve never done one of the most simple things an intern does, and Mr. Stark was dropping hints about me being an intern, so obviously I need to fill that role at the Charity Gala, but how can I when I don't know what’s expected of me?” 

“Maybe you’re meant to just go and have a good time?” Karen suggested. 

“No, no it’s not that,” Peter was sure, “he mentioned interning a few times, it was very clear that he’s wanting me to step up and actually fill that role.” 

“Why don't you ask him?” 

“What? No way!” Peter said quickly, “I absolutely can't do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“You wouldn't get it,” Peter muttered and ripped the mask off in one smooth action, feeling slightly guilty about cutting off his closest confidant so ruthlessly. 

He tried to ignore the turmoil in his mind and instead focused his attention on the gash on his leg. He carefully pulled himself back up onto the side of the tub and swung around so that he could clean the wound off in the bath. He used the showerhead and rinsed it on the gentlest pressure setting, rubbing at the skin around the laceration to clear it of the dried and congealing blood. 

“What the-” 

For some reason he had expected a long swipe, maybe from upper thigh to his knee, he had not expected the sight he was met with. The wound was the length of his pointer finger, and it was wide. It was almost like someone had cut an oval into his flesh rather than swiping him with a knife.

It needed stitches. 

It probably needed a professional, but Peter was an amateur with a complex against disturbing others and a strong need to avoid Mr. Stark until the Gala, so he was going to have to deal with it himself. How much blood had he lost? How long did he have until this wound became life-threatening? He needed to get his shit together and sort it out. 

Once he had finished rinsing the laceration, he wrapped one of May’s nice yellow towels around it tightly, to try and stem the flow of the blood - a large part of him felt guilty, he was going to have to throw it away and listen to her confused rambles as she wondered what had happened to it. 

“Come on, Peter,” he muttered to himself, “you can do this.”

He forced himself to stand, ignoring how that simple, painful movement made a sudden red appear on the otherwise pristine towel. 

“Gotta close it up,” he muttered as he opened the mirrored cabinet and began to rake through for the first aid kit he knew was hidden in there, various things fell as he searched and clattered into the sink making him glad that he was home alone. 

When he opened the first aid kit, he rummaged until he found the thing he had been looking for; a pack of Steri-Strips. He opened them and read through the information leaflet. 

Only use on shallow, clean, uninfected wounds. Do not use where bleeding is unmanageable or significant. Do not use on hairy, oily areas, joints, the face. Seek medical attention if the wound was a human or animal bite. 

Well, that was a lot of situations in which they were unsuitable and Peter was fairly sure his wound wasn't shallow and he would have said the bleeding was erring on the unmanageable side, but what else could he do? He didn't have any other option, he would have to try.

So he did, he carefully unwound the towel and looked at the nauseating wound on his thigh. He needed to align the edges and hold them in place with the Steri-Strips. It sounded simple… but it was going to hurt. Gritting his teeth, he started to get to work. Small whimpers and whines of pain would escape every now and then as he struggled not to lose himself to the lightheaded feeling that kept coming with the pain. 

The Steri-Strips didn't work as well as Peter had hoped, the edges of the wound weren't exactly lining up and there were parts of the sticky side that were attached to the open part of the wound, which he was sure wasn't meant to happen. But, it was an improvement, and that was all he could ask for. 

He stuck one of the sterile dressings over the top and used the first aid scissors to cut a strip off the towel - he was going to bin it anyways - which he then tied tightly around the affected area to create enough pressure to stop the bleeding. 

“Now to clean up,” he muttered with a slightly delirious laugh that he was putting down to the blood loss. 

Sitting there, with his leg wound cared for - to his best ability - and his throbbing ribs, Peter realised just how tired he was. He still needed to clean up the mess he’d created and research what Mr. Stark would be expecting of him at the Gala. 

He pulled on his mask tiredly, “Karen?” 

“Yes, Peter?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I forgive you, what can I do for you?” 

“Can you text Mr. Stark for me and say: sorry for running off like that, don't worry I’ll be at the Gala tomorrow, and I’ll be fully prepared.” 

“Message sent.” 

“Thanks, Karen,” Peter said and laid his head back, fighting the urge to fall into a deep, comforting sleep. He still had so much to do… 

----

By the time Saturday evening arrived, Peter was so nervous he was almost crawling about on the ceiling.

“Oh, Honey, relax would you,” May said with a fond eye roll as she rewatched the tie tutorial that she’d saved after they’d both been mystified by the snakelike fabric on the night of Homecoming. 

“Relax?” Peter asked, his voice a few octaves too high, “May, I can’t just relax, this is the Stark Charity Gala and I am a Stark Intern.” 

“So?” May asked, motioning for him to come closer so she could do up the tie after her third run through of the video. 

“So, I need to be the best intern that has ever been to one of these things, if it gets out that I’m Mr. Stark’s personal intern and I don’t do a good enough job, then my actions will impact negatively on Mr. Stark and I can’t have that!” 

“You need to calm down, Pete,” May said with a laugh, “you’re getting too in your head about this, why don't you just try to have a good time? And maybe go fix your hair.”

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled running a hand through his curls, “hair. I can do that.” 

“Just don't use as much gel as you did last time, alright?” May said, “the curls suit you, the greasy look does not.” 

“Oh ha ha,” Peter mumbled as he made his way out of the living room, pain echoing in every step, but May couldn't know. 

She couldn't know about the thirty dressings he had gone through in the last two days as his leg refused to heal properly, despite his normally impressive healing abilities. She couldn't know about the weird yellowish-green discharge that was escaping constantly or the strange smell he had begun to notice. She couldn't even know about the smattering of dark bruises that spanned across half his ribs and made breathing difficult. 

“Don’t take too long, Peter,” May called after him, “Happy will be here soon and I want to take some pictures of you before you leave.”

Peter looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his ghostly pallor and the bags beneath his eyes, how had he avoided causing May suspicion? He looked terrible, or maybe that was his enhanced sight picking up on things normal people couldn't see. 

He coated his fingers in a light amount of gel and ran them through his hair, enough to style it but not so much that it looked greasy, as May would say. 

“Alright, I’m ready!” Peter declared, walking back into the room to be met with the flash of a camera, “woah! May!” 

“You look so cute!” she said in response. 

“I am not cute!” Peter insisted, “I- I’m- I am the most-” 

“Face it, you’re the cutest,” May said pinching his cheeks gently, before pulling him into a hug that squeezed his ribs painfully, “alright, now, have a good night, alright?” 

“You sure you don't want to come?” Peter asked. 

“Oh no,” May said with a laugh, “I have a bottle of red and a handful of romcoms with my name on them.” 

“Alright,” Peter said, “have a good night.”

“You too, and if you’re staying at the tower, send me a text, ok?” May asked, “I don't want to spend the night worrying about where you are.” 

“You got it!” Peter said with false cheer, he doubted that Mr. Stark would want him to stay over, especially as he hadn't replied to the man since that message while he’d been cleaning his wound up. 

Peter made his way downstairs to see the familiar sleek black car parked by the curb, without hesitating he wandered over to the back door and slipped inside. 

“Hey, Happy!”

Happy grunted in greeting and fixed Peter with a piercing stare through the rearview mirror. 

“Is uh, is everything ok?” Peter wondered nervously.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Happy said, “Tony says you’ve been avoiding his messages.”

“My phone died,” Peter lied. 

“You couldn't charge it?” 

“My charger is broken.”

“You couldn't get a new one?” 

“We’re not all billionaires,” Peter mumbled.

“You could have asked Tony, he would have replaced it in a heartbeat.” 

“How?” Peter asked, “my phone was dead.” 

“Alright, fine, keep your secrets,” Happy grumbled, “just… be careful alright, Kid? Tony is really worried about you and I thought he was maybe overreacting because I know how he can be sometimes, but now I’m beginning to think something might be wrong.” 

“There’s nothing wrong.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” Happy asked, ignoring Peter’s lie. 

“Uh actually, can we go to a Drive-Thru Starbucks on the way?” 

“You… want coffee?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Peter mumbled. 

“Alright, sure,” Happy said, “the first time you’ve actually asked for something so I’m not going to say no.” 

Was it really? 

The server manning the Drive-Thru window looked very confused when Happy pulled up and requested an Americano and a Hot Chocolate, Peter could see her glancing between the two of them, obviously wondering who Peter was and why he was being chauffeured around. 

Maybe she would make up a story for her friends to laugh about, or maybe she was tired and nearing the end of her shift and didn't really care. Either way, Peter slunk back into the seat and looked the other way until Happy handed him the two drinks he had requested. 

“So, what’s with the drinks Kid?” Happy asked. 

“I don't know how to make coffee,” Peter admitted as though that was an appropriate answer. 

“Alright,” Happy said and he sighed deeply, “do you… do you normally drink coffee?” 

“What? No, this stuff could kill me,” Peter said, “ever since becoming Spider-Man, I have bad reactions to caffeine.”

“Bad reactions?” Happy asked, his eyes narrowing at Peter through the mirror. 

“Oh yeah, you know; palpitations, heart arrhythmias, rashes, jitters, headaches, projectile vomiting, occasional hallucinations, collapsing episodes, cra-”

“So it’s bad?” Happy interrupted. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Peter agreed. 

“So…” Happy trailed off, looking seconds away from pulling over so that he could tear the coffee from Peter’s hands and throw it, “why exactly did we get you a coffee?”

“Oh, this isn't for me.”

“Peter, Kid, come on, you’ve got to give a little here,” Happy muttered, “why did we get a coffee if it’s not for you and you can't even drink the damn stuff?” 

“It’s for Mr. Stark,” Peter said as though that should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

“And pray tell, why are you getting a coffee for Mr. Stark before the Charity Gala?” 

“Because I’m an intern.”

“Of course,” Happy muttered, looking about ready to drive them off the bridge they were currently crossing, “why did I even need to ask?”

The divider slowly raised between them as Happy muttered his statements of disbelief under his breath. 

-----

“There he is!” Mr. Stark said cheerfully as Peter walked into the room, Americano in hand, “I was starting to worry you wouldn't show up.”

“I promised I would,” Peter said, despite Mr. Stark’s words he could see the worry in the older man’s eyes, “oh uh, here, I brought you coffee.”

“Coffee?” Mr. Stark asked, taking the drink from Peter and looking at it in confusion, “you brought me a coffee?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said, “I hope it’s alright.”

The worry only seemed to intensify rather than lessening, was Mr. Stark that concerned about Peter messing up in public? If so, why should he invite him? 

“Thanks, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said, taking a polite sip from the cup, “anyway, why don't I introduce you to some people.”

“Sounds good, but maybe I could go to the toilet first?” Peter asked, “it was a long drive and I may have had a hot chocolate.” 

“Great, a sugar hyped kid,” Mr. Stark joked, “go on then, scram, you don't need my permission.”

Things seemed to be going smoothly enough until Peter walked out of the bathroom to find his Spidey-Sense thrumming away with a sense of urgency. Just as he started to look for the source of danger, a hand fisted into the fabric at the back of his neck and he was tugged to the side harshly. 

“Where have you been?” a man asked angrily, “and what are you doing out here without even a tray of drinks?” 

“I uh-”

“Shut up!” the man snapped, “I don't know who your daddy is or whose ass he had to kiss to get you this job but if you’re going to work tonight I need professionalism.” 

“I’m not-”

“I said ‘shut up’!” the man shouted once more, giving Peter a little shake to further drive his demand home. Peter was surprised to find himself slightly afraid, and the shake had hurt his ribs and pushed a little too much pressure down his sore leg. 

“Please, Sir,” Peter begged, “I’m not working.”

“Oh you absolutely are,” the man snapped, “you think you can sneak through here and meet Iron Man?” 

“I didn't-” 

“I have half a mind to kick you out into the gutter,” the man continued, “you are a disappointment to all of us in the service industry, you are meant to remain professional at all times, which doesn't mean fishing around for secrets and autographs.” 

“I wasn't!” 

“Liar!” 

The man tightened his grip and started marching Peter forward as though he was a disobedient child. 

“Sir, listen, please,” Peter pleaded, “Mr. Stark is waiting for me.” 

The man froze, his grip tightening momentarily, and Peter’s Spidey-Sense blared louder. 

“You disturbed Tony Stark?” 

“No! No, no, no!” Peter insisted, “I came here with him, I’m his intern.”

“That’s a lie,” the man said, “Stark Industries never brings interns to these events, now come with me or I’m going to end up kicking you out on your ass and blacklisting you from ever working an event in New York ever again.” 

“You can’t make me do anything,” Peter grumbled, trying to twist out of the man’s hold but being restricted by the pain in his leg and side, he wasn't going to be able to free himself, “you have to let me go?”

“Or what?” the man asked with a sneer in his voice, “what are you going to do about it?” 

“Him? Probably nothing, he’s far too polite for his own good, but me? That’s another story entirely,” Peter felt the grip loosen in a second and he almost crashed to the floor from the relief of it, only for Happy to grab his elbow and stabilise him. 

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter whispered, knowing the man would hear him. 

“You’re Tony Stark’s security,” the man who had grabbed Peter stated with a dumb expression on his face. 

“Yes, and you were manhandling one of the people I am here to protect,” Happy said seriously, Peter had often wondered how Happy - with his tendency to get overstressed and his annoyance at most living things - had become the Head of Security at Stark Industries, but now, looking at him confronting the man, he had no doubts that Happy deserved that title. 

“I wasn't- manhandling?” the guy asked, “that’s a bit… harsh, wouldn't you say?” 

“I call it as it is,” Happy said, “care to explain?” 

“I thought the kid was one of my waiters.”

“Did you recognise him?” Happy asked. 

“Well, no, but there are a lot of them, it’s difficult to know them all,” the man said. 

“That’s dangerous,” Happy said, “it’s fortunate for you that I personally run background checks on everyone working this function, but if you’re not even able to recognise a stranger among your employees then I feel like you won’t have a future organising events for Stark Industries.” 

“Wait, no, you can't do that!” the man insisted, “this is my biggest job of the year.” 

“It’s a shame you care so little about it then, imagine not caring enough to learn your employees’ names?” 

“It was a misunderstanding!” 

“Peter, did you try to tell this man you weren't a waiter”? Happy asked patiently. 

“I uh said that I’m an intern and that Mr. Stark was waiting for me,” Peter admitted, feeling a little guilty for the ashen look that came over the man’s face when he realised that Peter had been telling the truth, after all, how else would the head of security know Peter’s name? 

“Mr. Stark is in fact waiting for you,” a familiar voice broke in, “and he’s not a patient man, what is going on here?” 

The man now looked positively grey as he tried to look anywhere but at the confused and impatient billionaire before him, Peter however noticed the way Mr. Stark’s eyes narrowed in on the crumpled fabric by Peter’s neck and the sheen of panicked sweat on his forehead. 

His mentor looked questioningly at Happy, “well?”

“This is Bernard Kyting,” Happy said, and Peter was sure in that moment that Happy knew absolutely everyone in the room’s name and face, “he is the owner of the company that organised this Gala, he is also the man that just manhandled Peter and attempted to kidnap him.” 

“Kidnapping? What no!” 

“Uh, Happy, he wasn't going to kidnap me,” Peter said hesitantly. 

“Are you sure?” Happy asked seriously, “because we should operate on the worst-case scenario and him trying to force you to go somewhere against your will without listening to you say you’re an intern and that Tony was waiting for you sounds bad to me.” 

“It would probably sound bad to the police too,” Mr. Stark agreed thoughtfully. 

“You’re not serious!” Bernard gasped. 

“I’m deadly serious when it comes to Peter’s safety,” Mr. Stark said. 

“Mr. Stark, I really don't think-”

“Hush Peter, we’re handling this,” Mr. Stark said, “actually, don’t hush, Happy will handle this and I am going to show you off to all the stuffy businessmen here, let’s make them all insecure as a twelve-year-old shows them up.”

“Mr. Stark, I’m fifteen,” Peter said, rolling his eyes.

“Exactly, now come on.” 

Maybe it was the anxiety that had been festering in his stomach since he’d been invited to the Gala, or maybe it was the stress of almost being roped into working as a waiter for a high-end Gala, or maybe it was even the blood loss he’d recently suffered… maybe the reason didn't matter, because it was kind of irrelevant. 

The important thing was that Peter suddenly found himself falling forward. 

He felt hands grab at him to try and stop him from crashing against the ground, but they caught him exactly where his ribs were sore and Peter screamed and everything flashed a brilliant, agonising white before the darkness suddenly crept in. 

------

When Peter woke up he was partially surprised that he had actually passed out and partially relieved that he had passed out. He had managed to completely avoid the stress of pretending to know how to act as an intern. 

He tried to sit up, only to gasp and fall back against the pillows as his ribs announced their displeasure at the sudden movement, “oh,” he murmured under his breath as he tried to catch what little of it was left thanks to the pain. 

“I wouldn't recommend that,” a smooth voice said from beside him, Peter turned his head to see Mr. Stark sitting there, looking over his tablet at him.

“Hey,” Peter mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact. 

“You have three fractured ribs,” Mr. Stark informed him casually, “which wouldn't normally concern me too much because I get it, it kinda comes with the job, no matter how good you are, you usually end up a little banged up.”

Peter nodded solemnly, not wanting to speak up because he got the impression that Mr. Stark was nowhere near finished. 

“However, imagine my surprise when I lift your unconscious body up off the floor and find myself with a patch of blood on my new grey suit,” Peter winced, yeah, there it was, “so of course, there’s complete pandemonium, we think there’s an assassin in the Gala, we lock the place down and organise S.H.I.E.L.D.’s medics to attend. The highest of all security is on alert and preparing to raid the building, only for us to find that you have a stab wound, that looks to be a few days old on your leg.” 

“Oh, that,” Peter mumbled. 

“Oh that, yes that,” Mr. Stark snapped, “what the hell were you thinking not telling me about that?”

“It happened after I left the other day,” Peter admitted, “and I thought I’d managed to deal with it myself.” 

“You thought-” Mr. Stark broke off and sighed, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “do you realise how irresponsible that was?” 

“It was fine,” Peter mumbled. 

“Fine?” Mr. Stark questioned, his voice rising an octave from the shock of hearing such a thing. 

“I have healing powers,” Peter said. 

“Kid, you’re still human, you still need appropriate medical care and time to recuperate after getting hurt,” Mr. Stark said gently, “you’re not a machine, no one expects you to be able to keep going without looking after yourself.” 

“I guess,” Peter whispered. 

“And you had no idea what you were doing, did you?” Mr. Stark asked although it seemed like he already knew, “those Steri-Strips were totally inappropriate for that wound.”

“I know,” Peter said, looking down, “I just didn't have anything else.” 

“You had your phone.” 

Peter cast him a confused look, “my phone? They don't like blood or moisture that much.” 

“To… call me,” Mr. Stark said slowly, looking at Peter with a strange mix of disappointment and amusement, “you’re a smart kid, but would you really think to put your phone on a bloody wound before using it to call me.” 

“Uh, not usually,” Peter said, “but this kinda happened after I left yours the other day.”

“Ah,” Mr. Stark murmured, seemingly understanding something that Peter hadn't yet explained. 

“What?” Peter asked, feeling unnerved by the older man’s sudden understanding. 

“I freaked you out with all that talk of colleges and coming to work for Stark Industries,” Mr. Stark said quietly. 

“What? No!” Peter almost shouted, jerking upright in the bed despite the pain in his ribs that threatened his ability to breathe, “Mr. Stark, that’s not at all what happened.” 

“No?” Mr. Stark asked, arching an eyebrow curiously. 

“No, of course not,” Peter mumbled, “I mean, yeah, I wasn't ready to think about that sort of thing, but it would be an honour to work for you in the future, but Mr. Stark, I realised that I’m a really bad intern.” 

“What- Kid, no,” Mr. Stark said quickly.

“I am!” Peter argued, “I don’t know how to make coffee, I don't know how to sort paperwork, I don't know what else interns actually do! There’s no way you can say I’m good at it when I don't even understand my own job description. You invited me to the Charity Gala as your intern and I freaked out because I didn't want to embarrass you, I wanted to make a good impression.”

“Kid, I invited you to the Gala as you,” Mr. Stark said, “we both know the internship is a fake formality to keep your alter ego a secret and give you a boost in your college applications.” 

“So, you’re not mad that I don't know how to make coffee?” 

“I never was,” Mr. Stark said, “wait… is this why you brought me an Americano earlier?” 

Peter nodded guiltily, “yeah…” 

“Kid, you absolutely did not have to do that, although I must admit since I’m staying away from all the fun stuff now, it was rather nice to have,” Mr. Stark said, “I wanted you there so you could have a good time and so that I could brag about how amazing you are.” 

Peter couldn't stop the warmth that spread over his cheeks and he ducked his head.

“I just didn't want to be a disappointment,” Peter mumbled. 

“Kiddo, you could never,” Mr. Stark sounded as though he had never been more sure about anything, “I’m slightly upset that you didn't come to me about this wound, but I get that your teenage brain works in mysterious mystery ways.”

“I tried my best with it,” Peter mumbled. 

“It’s infected.” 

“I didn't say my best was good,” Peter continued, he pulled the blankets to the side to look at the wound on his leg only to find that the bloody, yellowing dressing he had last seen was gone and had been replaced by a bright white one with only a tiny amount od seepage. “You fixed it.”

“Well, my doctor did,” Mr. Stark corrected, “I called him in and we gave you some of Cap’s meds to keep you a little out of it while we cleaned it up and you’re now the proud owner of some stitches.”

“Oh cool,” Peter mumbled. 

“Stitches are cool?” Mr. Stark asked with a raised brow, perhaps he was questioning Peter’s sanity. 

“No, I got Captain America’s drugs!” Peter said with a smirk, “he always tells us not to do drugs in those PSAs so this is a wonderful twist of medicated irony.” 

“Yeah, I think they’re still in your system a little,” Mr. Stark muttered, “so since you’re still a little dopey, I think now would be a good time to remind you that you have three fractured ribs and you’re not allowed to go out as Spider-Man until they’re fully mended.” 

“Wait… what?” Peter protested, “why?” 

“Swinging will put a strain on them and cause you pain meaning you could flinch and fall, or you could receive another blow and worsen the damage,” Mr. Stark said, “come on, Underoos, you were just bragging about your healing powers, it won’t be forever.” 

“But…” Peter hesitated. 

“But what?” 

“If I can’t be Spider-Man will I still be allowed to come to the workshop?” Peter asked and he focused his attention on fiddling with the sheets rather than facing the look he knew Mr. Stark would cast towards him. 

He wasn't ready for the ‘why would you come to the workshop if you’re not needing upgrades?’ response, the one that he knew in his head he was about to receive.

“Kid, what?” Mr. Stark responded instead, “look at me, Peter.”

Peter blinked back the tears that were building in his eyes, trying his best not to appear childish and weak before the man who had been his hero since he was a child. 

“Pete, c’mon Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said gently, and Peter found himself unable to avoid him any longer, “I don’t know why you have this idea that I only care about Spider-Man, because you are always going to be my number one priority.”

“But-”

“Uh uh,” Mr. Stark cut him off, “no, you need to listen to this. I’m Tony Stark, do you really think I would have a fifteen-year-old kid running around my home if I didn't want him there? Do you think I’d be texting his Aunt and arranging transport for him when she’s at work? Would I have a ridiculous amount of food and sweet things in my kitchen? Would I brag about him to my colleagues and competitors?” 

“But we spend so much time designing stuff for Spider-Man?”

“Because you are Spider-Man and no matter how much I wish you had a safer hobby, I know that you won’t quit helping people just to stop the greying of my hair and the wrinkles that are forming. So instead of sitting here panicking about you getting brutally killed, I help you develop things that will ensure your safety - which you then bypass by trying to teat that wound by yourself.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled, how had he gotten it so wrong? “I’m sorry.”

“Kid, don't apologise,” Mr. stark said, “listen, I’m the one who’s sorry for making you think that I only cared about Spidey, I know I’m as Pepper would say “emotionally constipated” but I really do care about you and your dorky interests.”

Peter couldn't help but smile, “well, in that case, I’m sorry for freaking out about the intern thing, and for hiding my injuries from you.” 

“Those are apologies I can accept,” Mr. Stark said with a smile, “although, I wouldn't be opposed to you turning up with coffee more, especially when we both know Happy’s the one paying for it, just… not Starbucks, ok? Try some smaller places, support local businesses and all that jazz.” 

“MJ would love that you said that,” Peter mumbled. 

“Yeah, yeah, come on then,” Mr. Stark said, his knees cracking as he stood and stretched.

“Come on?” Peter repeated, “where are we going?” 

“Someone has to explain all of this to your aunt and I’m not taking the blow on my own,” Mr.Stark said. 

“You can’t throw me under the bus,” Peter protested, “I’m injured.”

“Yeah, and I will be too if you’re not there to soften the blow.” 

Peter grumbled under his breath as he clambered out of the comfortable bed, May was going to be so pissed at him, in fact, he’d be lucky if he lived to see his Spidey-Suit ever again. Maybe he should write a will, did he had time for that? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Mr. Stark moving to his side to support his weight so that he didn't step too heavily on his sore leg. 

“You don’t have to help me,” Peter said, “I’ve been walking on it since I hurt it.”

“Yeah and look how that ended up,” Mr. Stark muttered, “anyways, this is as much for me as it is for you. May won’t kill me if she thinks I’m holding you up.”

“You’re using me!” Peter protested. 

“Now he gets it.” 

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lemme know if you want to join/leave the tag list :D

[dathen]

Reblogs again because I just remembered a great example of Victorian context in relation to your question, and how it’s just the same old myth stretching backwards for who knows how long.

In The Christmas Carol, Scrooge lashes out at some men asking for donations to feed the poor with this diatribe, which usually gets watered down in adaptions:

“Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.”

“Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge.

“Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.

“And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge. “Are they still in operation?”

“They are. Still,” returned the gentleman, “I wish I could say they were not.”

“The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge.

“Both very busy, sir.”

“Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course,” said Scrooge. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

“. . . A few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. . . What shall I put you down for?”

“Nothing!” Scrooge replied.

“You wish to be anonymous?”

“I wish to be left alone,” said Scrooge. “Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.”

“Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”

“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

TLDR Scrooge is sort of ‘saying the quiet part out loud,’ setting up a criticism of society’s heartlessness towards the poor, and the brutality of what little social safety net existed for the destitute. Scrooge is pushing back against voluntary charity when such things exist, using the very mentality underpinned by Twisted Lip and similar rhetoric: beggars are just riding easy on honest people’s charity, and COULD get a real job and just don’t want to work, and those who do give to the poor are gullible and/or enablers.

Charles Dickens was very passionate about attacking these mentalities, and it demonstrates strongly how entrenched those mentalities were back then.

I promised myself I wouldn't start fights in the server channels about the ending of The Man With The Twisted Lip, so I'm over here where the capitalists can safely ignore me

There's the bones of a good story under here, SOMEWHERE. 'Aha, I am suspected of the murder of myself!' is a good reveal. Though the description of the red clown wig is a bit... I mean... I know the point was to look distinctive, Neville, but really.

This is one of those ones where I desperately need Victorian context of a kind that's really hard to get. Because 'turned out I could make better money on welfare' is, right now, shit Nazis say. But that is because the welfare state EXISTS now, so obviously the author did not mean it to come across precisely that way in the 1890s - but also I don't want to completely let him off for 'it being a different time', because this plot's fucking stupid. Basically I don't know how cross to be with him.

Anyway. That angle aside, I think it'd be very possible to do an adaptation of this which concludes "isn't it ludicrous that St. Clair makes a really comfortable living while other people starve, just because passers-by find him amusing" and serves as an indictment of voluntary charity vs. a robust social safety net.

(these days St. Clair would be trying to conceal that all his income is from Patreon)

[wolfstar-in-color]

July Creator Spotlight: Desicosplay

Hello, lovely people, and welcome to our second creator spotlight!

Each month, we will highlight a different creator in our lovely fandom who features diverse characterizations of Sirius and/or Remus. We will invite you to get to know them better through questions and answers, Fandom Discourse(tm), and a featured prompt created by our guest.

For our second spotlight, we are absolutely honoured to having the presence of @desicosplay, an incredible cosplayer and writer that if you don’t follow, you should do right away. They’ve gifted us with many, many amazing gifsets, a lot of them about Sirius. Below you’ll see a little snippet of the interview and Mastani’s prompt. Under the cut you’ll be able to read the full interview. Don’t forget to share and interact with this post, and if you have anyone you’d like to recommend for a spotlight, shoot us an ask!

“Diversity means celebration. So in fan spaces, that means actively seeking out creators that you might otherwise miss. It means trying out new perspectives, or listening to new perspectives on your favorite characters. It means standing with your peers, being loud in your love and support of them. I’m not saying you have to reblog or comment on everything. Diversity is not just visual, it’s also mental. Diversity needs to be intentional and active, even if that takes place just in your head.”

Mastani’s prompt: Muggle AU! Sirius and Remus at Harry’s sporting event!

Hi! I’m Mastani, she/they/he pronouns, I’m a 1.5/2nd Generation Indian-American, and I cosplay and write fanfiction!

Q: How did you start creating in the fandom? What did you wish to bring into the fandom?

A: Almost five years ago, Laina @ohtheclevernessofme1972 convinced me to join the HPRP community. She and everyone else were so supportive of my desire to bring my culture and background to the Harry Potter characters. Eventually, I also started writing fanfiction again!

Q: What things about s/r as characters or in their relationship inspire you to create around them?

A: I think that they are very complex characters that really demonstrate how external factors affect your life, whether you like it or not. Their relationship, whether platonic, romantic, or anything in-between or outside, is also so fascinating in its potential to evolve. Wolfstar is constantly changing, and all its interpretations are totally feasible to imagine.

Q: What things would you like to highlight about the Wolfstar fandom and your experience in it?

A: My main dips into the fandom are when I cosplay Sirius, and every time, I feel so much love. The fandom is so open to any interpretations of Sirius, and it does wonders to make someone feel accepted.

Q: What type of content do you wish you saw more in the fandom?

A: This is entirely self-indulgent, but Godfather/Uncle!Sirius just make me feel so warm inside. There’s a love inside Sirius that only gets touched upon inside the books. AUs where he gets to interact with Harry as a child or teen outside the pressure of a war are just so calming and warming.

Q: What is your favourite wolfstar fancontent (fic/fanart/gifset/etc) and how does it inspire you?

A: Y’all, I have so many Wolfstar fics saved that are just stunning and several that are comfort fics. I think the biggest takeaway from all of them is the comfort the boys find in each other. All of them are AUs, and I’m inspired to depict my Wolfstar as something kind, gentle, and communicative.

Q: Which of your own identities inform your creative processes? How has that process been for you?

A: All of them! But more specifically, my racial background informs most of my process. My process is… Sporadic, to say the least. However, when I do get struck with an idea, I have to create it almost instantly. One example, Wolfstar-related, is that my Sirius cosplay has long hair, half-up in a bun. I feel like desi!Sirius would celebrate his heritage by growing his hair long, which also is a nice, “screw you,” to societal and familial constraints.

Q: What advice do you have for other content creators with diverse backgrounds in the fandom? What would you say to people that might feel they don’t have the “right” history/experience/characteristics to participate in the creation of content related to Wolfstar?

A: think the best advice for participation I have comes from the iconic Jay @siriussly-serious, Rest in Power. “Go. Get in. Dive in. Fucking head first. Fuck that, cannonball your butt right in there and make a damn splash…” There is no, “right,” history/experience/background. These characters are fictional, but they can reflect our world. Our world is not homogenous. So why should fictional worlds and characters be that way? These stories are ours, and we shape them to be whatever we want them to be. If you want to create, that’s all the prerequisite you need.

Q: How could we build a more diverse fandom?

A: This blog is a great example of how to build a diverse fandom. Celebrating creators with diverse backgrounds and being loudly supportive of them makes us want to stay. Finding communities that celebrate, not just accept, can make a world of difference. So, raise your voice and love on your favorite creators.

Q: What’s your favourite thing to modify in Sirius’s or Remus’s characterizations to bring new perspectives to them?

A: I’m a huge communicator, so improving character communication is something I love to do. I like to create fluff, and this change lets me focus on the gentler parts of Sirius and Remus, or the parts that need some love, e.g. mental health. It also lets me flesh out their senses of humor more, like their dislike of cats (in my headcanons).

Q: What does diversity mean to you? What does that encompass in fanish spaces?

A: Diversity means celebration. So in fan spaces, that means actively seeking out creators that you might otherwise miss. It means trying out new perspectives, or listening to new perspectives on your favorite characters. It means standing with your peers, being loud in your love and support of them. I’m not saying you have to reblog or comment on everything. Diversity is not just visual, it’s also mental. Diversity needs to be intentional and active, even if that takes place just in your head.

Q: What are your ideas about the notions of culture and ethnicity? How do you relate to those notions?

A: I find culture and ethnicity to overlap in many ways, as they both pertain to group characteristics. I’m not an anthropologist, so I don’t know the detailed differences between the two. However, in my quick searches, it feels, to me, that culture is a bit broader and ethnicity is more geographic. So, I’m culturally Indian-American and ethnically Gujarati Indian (Gujarat is the state in India). I find these notions to be helpful when defining and describing my experiences. For example, among desis (and other brown folks), saying I’m generation 1.5/2 tells them that I straddle American/Western and Indian culture. If I tell another Indian that I’m Gujarati, they instantly know the kind of foods I grew up with and the language my parents speak. It’s a streamlined way of explaining my experiences, and as a science brained person, it makes life easier for me.

Q: Is there a page/organization/institution you would recommend for fans to search/read when it comes to learning about diversity?

A: With the tool that is social media, there are so many activists and creators that are willing and able to teach about diversity. On my page, I keep a page titled, “Resources for Justice.” This page has a wide variety of social justice resources on it. Google is great, but you also want to cross-check your sources. However, I feel like the best way to learn is to ask questions. Do so respectfully and ensure the person you’re asking has the energy/time/compensation to answer. Especially if you’ve done some research ahead of time, I find that many folks are willing to have a discussion - but again, check with the person first. Trust is paramount in these conversations.

Q: Is there a project/organization that you want to hype?

A: Oh, I could name so many. However, the ones I want to shout out here are Chrysalis - Gender Identity Matters and Raze Collective. As many of you know, Jay @siriussly-serious passed away recently, and in his name, we’re promoting/donating to these charities. Chrysalis - GIM offers online and in-person mental health support for trans and nonbinary people in his area and Raze Collective supports LGBTQIA+ performers. Ami @ami-acts and a few others (I apologize for not remembering exactly who - I’ll message the mods if I remember/please add on if you know) organized this. Links are below.

Donate to Chrysalis - GIM here.

Donate to Raze Collective here.

Q: Leave us with a quote or work of art that always inspires you

A: Is it too cheesy to say all of our fandom? To be totally honest, that’s who/what inspires me most of all. It’s a work of art, all the people in it make our fandom a work of art!