#skin doctor leeds

[caresmetics]

Trusted Skin Doctor Leeds | Professional Skin Care Treatments

Looking for a reliable skincare consultant, a skin doctor Leeds? At Caresmetics, our experienced doctors offer comprehensive skin care treatments, including anti-wrinkle treatments, fillers, and personalized skincare programs. Schedule your appointment with Dr. Zak and Dr. Zena for exceptional care and results.

Meet them at https://www.caresmetics.co.uk/

[ognimdo2002]

Jersey Devil - Let it be a devil / Lenape or European?

“ Regardless of whether it seeks retribution or not on the plot, Jane Leeds' unidentified Lenape demon, home of this last variety, gave rise to a legendary beast in New Jersey. ”

– Eostre

Mesingw, or M'Sing (Caprodemonus americanus), also known as Jersey Devil, is the only dragon found in New Jersey, United States of America, as a national demon on Planet Earth. Debuted at Weather Dragons: Modern Disaster as a tertiary antagonist and now antihero that initiated the COVID-19 pandemic and the 2021 storming of the United States Capitol due to a large violent attack against the United States Congress in the U.S. Capitol on January 6.

Physical Appearance

Only the Mesingw has wings and a forked tail, much like the actual devil. On this tail, the main skin tone and even the skin color were tougher and smoother, ranging from mahogany to scarlet skin and a maroon hue. The Jersey Devil had four fingers on each hand and four on each foot; even its wings, which were bat-like and covered in claws, had goat-like hooves similar to those of a tahr.

Abilities

Jersey Devil possesses this "fire"-like material that wasn't quenched on seas and was undesirable from Californianium to manganese magic elements, not a part of classical elements, as the Jersey Devil naturally manipulates wildfire as a natural, now antimatter and black element.

Skills

Corruption Fireballs: The Jersey Devil shoots manganese-dark fireballs and performs as a marksman.

Dispersal of Mortal Sins: The Jersey Devil spreads their wings with a California aura, increasing defense, providing a shield, dealing blindness, and becoming scared when struck by a gust.

Derniers Mots De La Mort: The Jersey Devil shoots chaotic beams with fire and deals blindness, paralysis, slowness, burns, scalding, and even death. There is no resistance against this fire.

Nada Son Las Ultimas Palabras: Jersey Devil summons blood moons during the night while summoning dark clouds during the day—increases all attributes but affects the mentally.

Leed's Inheritance: The Jersey Devil manifested itself to connect nature and the event. If it is near death, experience will add special and physical defense. Jersey Devil manifests all dark future events and leads to the worsted dark ambition of the devil by itself.

Weather Phenomenon

According to the statistics, "the worst year in terms of climate change and COVID-19" was in part due to major climate disasters worldwide, including major bushfires in Australia known as Black Summer and the western United States, as well as extreme tropical cyclone activity affecting large parts of North America, the death of Kobe Bryant, the eruption of Taal Volcano, the Yemeni civil war, earthquakes in Turkey and Greece, the deadliest shipwreck located in the Canary Islands in Senegal, the Koshebe massacre, changing the height limit of Mount Everest, the total solar eclipse in the South Pacific, which made more bad luck, and the Petrinja earthquake in Croatia. The event awakens Tren-tren Vilu and Caicai Vilu against the current characters after King Mihai of Romania's death.

Ecology

This Jersey Devil is actually the protector of all animals in the forest, but is most strongly associated with deer, forest fire, medicine, healing, and anti-pagan. One of them, including the child of Jane Leeds, originally populated the Pine Barrens as an endemic species. Many people believe that the Jersey Devil hates either Lenape or whites, as evidenced by their blood-curdling screams, as the quote left out. To avoid contact with the Jersey Devil, Lenape said, "Go back and tell the others to stop holding meetings and attend to their crops." Along with stories about the Blue Hole and other alleged "blue holes" in the Pine Barrens, folklore about the Pine Barrens also includes the ghosts of the "Black Doctor," "Black Dog," and Captain Kidd.

The Pine Barrens inspired the legend of the Jersey Devil, who is said to have been born in 1735 to a local woman named Mrs. Jane Leeds at Leeds Point. He was said to be her 13th child, and the Lenape people cursed him for having such an unlucky number.

Emilio Carranza, a Mexican aviator and national hero, crashed and was killed by a Jersey Devil on July 12, 1928, near Tabernacle, New Jersey. In 1950, the United Nations and United Airlines announced that the Mesingw or Jersey Devil, an Elder Dragon, lived outside of the normal ecosystem, economy, politics, natural disasters, cataclysms, and living, breathing forces of the natural world. Unlike other dragons, the Jersey Devil always adopted Pine Barrens tree frog, bald eagle, timber rattlesnake, and other animals and it was considered a mutualism.

The District of Columbia was placed under curfew, and lawmakers were evacuated while rioters occupied and vandalized the building for several hours, all ethnic groups from Trump or Biden supporters (either mostly White Americans; some are black Americans, Asians, Jews, or Native Indians sometimes).

Against his life for his mother due to bad reasons. As noted by scientists and cryptozoologists, illegally, the devil can order from the United Nations, the United States Department of Justice, the CIA, and FBI agents to kill this demon for responding without being bad luck or bad omen, as the results of worsening years and other tragedies havoc whole states and worldwide in one shit. Despite being Elder Dragon-level monsters, they are considered Elder Dragons in this category.

A devil was the last survivor of this species away from the past, lost by Spaniards and Britons who killed all the Leeds family, preventing us and a royal family?!

Behavior

The Jersey Devil is reputed to be fiercely protective of its territory and would use a display of wings to frighten off any intruders.

Distribution and Habitat

In the Southern New Jersey and Philadelphia folklore of the United States, the Jersey Devil inhabits the forest of Pine Barrens in South Jersey.

Movement Pattern: Not a Migrant

Individual Type: Solo

Population Trend: Stable

Population: 300

Locomotion: Versatile

Habitat: All

Earth: 

Extant (Resident): United States (New Jersey; Philadelphia)

Tamed

It cannot be tame.

Lore

Past and Present Incidents

100,000 BCE: Quetzalcoatl, a god, was responsible for creating the monster known as Klomu, or M'Sing, by the Lenape people while he traveled to Delaware from Teotihuacan.

1000 AD: The Lenape people who first lived in the Pine Barrens believed the area was inhabited by a spirit known as M'Sing, who sometimes appeared as a "deer-like creature with leathery wings." The Lenape tribes called the area "Popuessing," meaning "place of the dragon." Swedish explorers later named it "Drake Kill" ("drake" being a word for dragon, and "kill" meaning, channel or arm of the sea (river, stream, etc. in Dutch).

1600s AD: Beginning in the 17th century, English Quakers established settlements in southern New Jersey, including the Pine Barrens. Daniel Leeds, a Quaker and a prominent figure in pre-Revolutionary colonial southern New Jersey, was ostracized by his Quaker congregation after publishing almanacs containing astrological symbols and writing in 1687. Leeds' fellow Quakers deemed the astrology in these almanacs to be too "pagan" or blasphemous, and the local Quaker community censored non-Quakers and destroyed them.

1735 AD: Even though the British expanded America during the Seven Years War, the Spaniards found a fresh way to recover Jersey. Jane Leeds, from her own family, fled from the Spanish conquistadors and traveled to the United States of America. Her 13th child was born and has now been transformed into a demon for unexplained reasons. In this case, Jersey Devil is the given name for only endemism species in the USA. Leeds' twelve children fled, and Joseph Bonaparte sought the devil.

Known Individuals

Past and Present Incidents - Individuals

Leeds Devil / Lit M'Sing 

The Recollections of Queen Arianna - Individuals

Chatemuko

[practically-an-x-man]

Ophelia Octavius

(picrew is @hexaes', moodboard by @negative-speedforce, faceclaim is Rhea Ripley)

Full Name: Ophelia Jo Octavius Pronouns: she/her preferred, fine with other pronouns (cisgender bisexual female)

Nicknames: Olly (usual nickname), Ol's (from Peter 2, Peter 3), Argonaut (hero name) Pet Names: ?

Relevant Tags: #ophelia octavius, #catch and release fic, #amadeus the cat

Birthday: November 13, 1987 Age in Chapter One: 30 (time-displaced)

Universe/Fandom: Spider-Man movieverse, originates in Raimi timeline movies

Physical Traits: 5'11", sturdy powerlifter's figure (well-built but not chiseled muscle), tan and olive-toned skin. Curly black hair, shrewd dark brown eyes, arched brows and high cheekbones, and a lopsided smile. Wears round glasses with purple rims. Has detachable actuators - four tentacles, articulated, made of steel-blue metal. Has a segment of Van Gogh's Starry Night tattooed on her left hip, and a large burn scar on her right shoulder. Often seen wearing a long blue coat, black tank top, dark jeans, and bright purple Converse.

Character Traits: intelligent, quick-witted, sarcastic, adaptable, driven, self-destructive at times, workhorse, somewhat morally grey

Relationships: -Family: Otto and Rosalie Octavius (parents), Harry Osborn (stand-in brother), Norman Osborn (stand-in uncle) -Friends: Peter Parker (1, 2, and 3), Curt Connors, Max Dillon, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, other Spider-Man characters -Romantic Partners: Peter Parker (3) (currently); Morgan (formerly), Rick (formerly), Lyla (formerly)

Additional Information: - She is on the autistic spectrum - She has a doctorate in biomedical engineering from MIT - Despite creating her own actuator tentacles, she did not take up the mantle of Doc Ock. Instead she goes by Argonaut: a type of octopus - Her actuators are named Jason, Castor, Idas, and Pollux - members of the mythological Argo's crew - She has no innate powers of her own and instead relies on her inventions and intense physical training - She can be found across the multiverse, with a tragic series of canon events in each universe - At the time of her death, she was working on optimizing a source of renewable energy - Eventually, has a pet cat (black sphynx) named Amadeus - After a battle with her multiversal self (a vengeful, obsessive variant known as Charybdis) leaves her with a compound ACL/MCL tear, she's left with a permanent knee brace on her left knee

[cosmeticbreastsurgeon]

Enhancing Beauty Through Precision in Cosmetic Surgery

For people who hope to improve the way they look with careful dedication and skill, breast plastic surgery has turned out to be a revolutionary kind of solution. In Leeds, this sector is active with a variety of specialized services meant to meet diverse aesthetic concepts, starting from imperceptible adjustments to stunning changes. Cosmetic surgery at the Leeds Breast and Cosmetic Clinic with Philip Turton, has personalized solutions for every individual need, which might include breast uplift, breast reduction, augmentation and replacement surgery.

Cosmetic Surgery in Leeds is facilitated by improvements in medical technology and techniques to ensure that patients acquire safe, efficient treatments from skilled personnel. Not only does each procedure intend to improve external beauty but it also enhances the self-confidence and the general wellness of the patient. Cosmetic surgeons in Leeds help patients attain aesthetic outcomes that are consistent with their notions of beauty by blending their artistic skills with medical knowledge.

Why Choose Cosmetic Surgery?

Various reasons underlie people’s decision to go for cosmetic surgery. Some do it to correct physical imperfections that hinder their self-confidence, whereas others desire to get rid of marks of ageing or to change certain features. In Leeds, experienced cosmetic surgeons use modern methods as well as technologies for good results, which are often a combination of art and medicine.

Popular Cosmetic Breast Procedures in Leeds

Breast Augmentation: To increase breast and form size by employing inserts or exchanging fat tissues.

Breast Reduction: Reducing the breast volume often by at least 50%.

Breast Uplift: Reshaping the breast. Removes sag and elevates nipple position for a more youthful look.

Explantation and Mastopexy: Removal of old implants and skin tightened to leave a better result.

Choosing a Cosmetic Surgeon in Leeds

It is essential to pick the correct surgeon if safe results are to be obtained. It is not enough just to read patient feedback comments or glossy websites or marketing puff. Potential clients should also find out about the doctor’s qualifications and the area within which they specialise. Avoid a jack of all trades surgeon and chose an established  highly rated hospital over a small clinic facility. If you any doubts or you feel you have a disagreement, you should look for another specialist before making a choice. Concerns can be discussed with the practitioner through personal conversation thereby clarifying anticipated outcomes and establishing individual healing protocols.

The Consultation Process: In the first meeting, the doctor goes through the patient’s medical history, sets goals together with the individual, and carries out a bodily examination which helps to ascertain if surgery is viable as well as maintain healthy expectations. This should be a thorough process and be done by the surgeon who is looking after you. Where these processes are done by a nurse assigned by a cosmetic clinic you should be concerned that you are in a conveyor belt system and alarm bells might sound. You should to be offered inducements.

Safety and Regulations: In Leeds, cosmetic surgery with a specialist has to adhere to safety regulations that are strict; furthermore there are ethical standards which are followed throughout the process of before surgery, after surgery until full recovery; the surgeon puts into place a series of measures to enhance patient safety while working from an authorized facility. Ideally a CQC hospital rated as Good or Outstanding.

Surgery for beauty enhancement in Leeds is a pathway for individuals to refine their looks precisely and tenderly. Cosmetic Surgery in Leeds has experienced surgeons and modernized facilities needed for breast rejuvenation as well as reshaping. Before opting for minor alterations or dramatic ones, it is vital to visit a qualified Leeds-based oncoplastic or cosmetic street surgeon for personalized attention and beautiful effects.

[lucylucy987]

Chemical Peels Leeds | Skin Peels Leeds

Are you looking for Chemical Peels treatment in Leeds? Yorkshire Skin Centre offers the best Skin Peels in Leeds by an expert team of doctors.

[osarothomprince]

I looked like an awful red swollen toad until £9.50 ‘secret weapon’ turned my life around – it’s miraculous

A WOMAN who became a recluse after developing severe eye eczema after menopause has found a “miraculous” cure. Serena Fenton, 55, from Leeds, said her skin has always been one of her “best assets” until January 2023, when her eyelids became severely swollen and red. The doctor confirmed that her eczema-ridden eyes could be a…I looked like an awful red swollen toad until £9.50 ‘secret weapon’…

[endlessly-cursed]

HM- Valentina Somerset

"𝙄'𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙄 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩."

Name: Valentina Victoria Primrose Somerset 

Nicknames: Val 

Birthdate: 16th of July, 1973 

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Personality Type (MBTI): tbd 

Blood Status: Half-blood 

Nationality: British-Turkish 

Physical Appearance

Hair: Blonde 

Eyes: Blue 

Height: 1.59m 

Weight: 60kg 

Body Type: Average build 

Skin Tone: Fair 

Distinguishing Marks (scars, birthmarks, etc.): She has a nose piercing and wears reading glasses at the age of 17 

Background

Hometown

Winbourne Estate, Leeds, England 

Valentina grew up as the only heir of Charles and Ismene Somerset, and she grew up spoiled and a bit overprotected, but she eventually told her parents to let her fly and be her own person. She learned everything there is to learn of a modern heiress of an ancestral and ever-standing estate until her Hogwarts letter came 

Family

Mother: Ismene Somerset, neé Fazilet 

A beautiful and shy woman, she was born in Istambul and grew up during her childhood and teens until she left with a desire to fly away from the nest. She decided that England was the best chance and, while walking to a nearby café, her cat attacked the bags of one man who’d turn out to be Charles Somerset. They both fell in love and soon started to court, causing a scandal and intrigue alike. After some convincing, they married in 1970 and Ismene soon was pregnant, but lost the child. They tried again during the next year, but Ismene wouldn’t fall pregnant until she fell pregnant in 1972. The labour was stressful and quite risky, and the doctor advised no more children. While she would’ve loved to have a son, she was content with her baby daughter. 

Father: Charles William Somerset 

A calm, dutiful and kind man, he grew up in Winbourne and was educated at Hogwarts as well and practised the neutral policy based on Switzerland. He met Ismene Fazilet on the streets of London and fell in love with her. Despite the scandal of their courtship, they married and, while she miscarried a son and didn’t fall pregnant until 1972, he still adored her and his daughter Valen. He was a devoted father and retired as a viscount on his 30th anniversary, leaving his daughter and son-in-law as the new heads of the house. 

Aunts: Tatiana ‘Taty’ Elizabeth Primrose Somerset 

A strong-tempered, tough and independent woman from a young age, she gave up at fifteen her rights as the eldest daughter and went on to travel the world and gallivant around her lesbianism. At 30, she fell in love with an Australian woman called Olga Renaux, whose great-grandmother Clarice had eloped with her great-grandfather Vincent, causing a major scandal in the family. She hid it for a while until her brother found out and, while having his reservations, allowed the match. The two of them wouldn’t marry until well into their sixties when it was finally legal to do so in the UK. 

Meghan Marie Ollivander, neé Somerset 

The perfect daughter, she grew up being delighted to be a lady and wanted not only to meet expectations, but exceed them as well. She never once gave the family any disappointments and was glad to succeed her sister in the lady in charge of Winbourne until Charles married, and carried the duty with poise and dignity, though soon understood the burden that came with it. After Charles married and she graduated Hogwarts, she married the eldest Ollivander of her generation and the two of them got on having four children. 

Hogwarts

House: Ravenclaw 

Best Class: Transfiguration and DADA 

Worst Class: Herbology 

Boggart: Losing her claim to Winbourne 

Riddikulus: tbd 

Patronus: A labrador 

Patronus Memory: Her mother singing her a Turkish lullaby 

Mirror of Erised: Herself as an iconic viscountess with Caiden and her family at her side 

Amortentia (what she smells like): primroses, chanel nº5, cherries, expensive soap and vanilla 

Amortentia (what she smells): Mint, cotton and paint 

Career

11-18: Hogwarts student 

19-25: Advocate and fighter of the SWW and the Phoenix Resistance 

26-Death: 4th Viscountess of Winbourne in her own right 

Personality & Attitude

Priorities: Smart, logical, creative and funny 

Strengths: Strong, knows her worth and corageous 

Weaknesses: Haughty, proud and stubborn 

Stressed: During wartime 

Calm/Comforted: Doing paperwork at Winbourne, baking, in Caiden’s arms 

Favorites

Colors: White, black, blue and gold 

Weather: Sunny with a light breeze 

Hobbies: Fashion, playing the piano, reading family history, horseback riding 

Fashion: Valentina dresses the latest trends and tries to be a fashion icon like her great-great grandmother Primrose. She tries to be like her overall 

Relationships

Significant Other/Love Interest: Caiden Andrew Solace ( @camillejeaneshphm​ ) 

Valentina did not plan to fall in love with him, but she couldn’t help it much. 

Caiden and Valentina knew each other- he had heard of the viscountess in his house that came from a great family, and Valentina knew the basics of Caiden, yet she was glad that one boy was sweet and had a kind nature and was not like many others, whom she found boring, much like her great-great-grandmother had. Feelings wouldn’t make an entrance until fifth year, though Caiden always had a crush on her that only grew as they both did. 

She had planned to make an auspicious marriage of convenience with someone she liked well enough within the families, but her Turkish and muggle heritage made her instead a joke, many picking on the ‘half-breed’ for it. When it was all too clear that none of those boys -or girls- qualified to be at her side running Winbourne, she decided to spend time elsewhere, and she decided to explore her feelings for Caiden that had started to grow. 

The two of them went to cute and low-key dates, and he always asked for the bill to be split, which gladdened her, for many expected the wealthy heiress to pay or tried to be a ‘gentleman’ and pay themselves because ‘pretty ladies do not pay’, a line that always creeped her out. His kind nature, softness and heart of gold made her fall hard for him, and soon confessed their feelings and started dating. Merula Snyde gave her a hard time, but she quickly put her in her place. 

During the second wizarding war, they offered Winbourne for refuge and became a safehouse for the Phoenix Resistance, for Primrose Gray had long ago put on wards that avoided Death Eaters or invaders to come loot the estate. 

They married a year later and would go on having two daughters, in which the eldest carried on the Somerset Legacy. They were both devoting and loving parents to their daughters. 

Friends: Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, Andre Egwu, Murphy McNully, more tbd 

These people were essential to Valentina growing up and because of them, she is who she is today. 

Rivals: tbd 

Trivia 

She can sing beautifully but is very timid 

She’s also an avid reader like Primrose and bought +100 books, making her collection from 250 to over 500 books 

She’s a direct enemy of Voldemort, and there was a time where he tried to recruit her, but failed 

She fought for the PR and her wealth and many private houses helped the Muggles and smuggled people from Azkaban to escape 

She also bought a summer chalet in Gibraltar and Australia in 1999 and 2003 

Primrose Gray is her role model and aspires to be as legendary as her one day, to the point where she wanted to be black-haired and not blonde 

She was introduced to Queen Elizabeth II in 1989 and Princess Diana in 1993 and they both liked her very much 

She’s also a polyglot, a tradition by the heirs since 1786 installed by Genoveva Somerset, the grandmother of the modern Somersets: she can speak Spanish, French, Romanian, Bulgarian, Belgian, Norwegian, Portuguese and a bit of Arabic 

She also knows karate so she doesn’t have to rely only on her magic to save herself 

[sporadically-writing]

Alice Ward

Basics

Full Name: Alice Ward

Nicknames: Master Ward, Ward

Age: 28 in Doctor Strange

Sexual Orientation: Biromantic Asexual

Appearance

Skin Tone: Fair

Eye Color: Purple

Hair Color: Brown

Hairstyle: Worn however she feels at the time, more often than not it is worn straight or in messy ponytails

Makeup: Minimal eye makeup when she feels like it (spoiler alert: not very often)

Build: Slim, lean muscled arms and runners legs

Height: 5’6”

Style: Her sorcery outfit is brown pants and boots with a purple sleeveless tunic with a sashlike belt. When she is a civilian she wears t-shirts under flannels.

Personality

General Personality: Snarky, Chaotic, Quick witted

Strengths: Determined, Focused, Strategic

Flaws: Stubborn, Hot-Tempered, Easily Bored

Habits and Mannerisms: She puts her feet up on tables when sitting; She’ll turn herself invisible and pull pranks on Kamar-Taj students; Sits by windows when it rains; Communicates through her eyes sometimes

Secrets: She has depression, it’s what she went to Kamar-Taj for, not all wounds are physical. When Strange arrives at Kamar-Taj, The Ancient One, Wong and Mordo are the only ones who know

Regrets: She regrets the car accident that killed her parents. They had been coming to an event at her school, it was a rainy night, she should have told them not to come. She feels like, since they were coming to see her, that it’s her fault.

Skills/Talents: Battle magic, conjuring weapons; Stealth; Painting; Piano; Meditation; Hand to Hand combat

Likes: Blankets, rainy windows, being a nuisance

Dislikes: Zealots, being underestimated, responsibility

Sense of Humor: Snarky comments and pranks

Guilty Pleasure: Listening to sad songs, she finds something therapeutic to it

Defining Moment: Choosing to stay at Kamar-Taj after The Ancient One helps her heal

Relationships

Friends: The Ancient One, Mordo, Wong, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, MJ, May Parker

Family: Melissa Ward (Mother, Deceased), Alexander Ward (Father, Deceased)

Enemies: Kaicelius and his zealots, Thanos, Spiderman villains from other dimensions, Wanda Maximoff (unhappily)

Lovers: Stephen Strange (eventually)

Relationship Status: Single

Reputation: Childish, sure, but she can pack one hell of a punch

Miscellaneous

Current Residence: Sanctum Sanctorum, New York City

Collections: Books on combat specific magic, blankets and pillows, mugs; She has a relic, the Diaphanous Gloves of Dishani, that allow the wearer to turn invisible

Accent: American, North

Voice: Kind and playful

Signature Quote: “I read the rules before I break them.”

Song: TBD

Backstory

Alice Ward was a fairly happy child. She had parents who loved her and she loved them. She was a smart kid who did well in school, leaning more towards the arts than anything else. One day, however, tragedy strikes in the form of a car accident.

Unable to properly process the grief she experiences, Alice finds herself going to many therapists and doctors, nothing seems to really work for her. Along the way she hears about Kamar-Taj and finds her way out there.

The Ancient One takes her in, helping her work through her grief and depression to heal her non-physical wounds as best as she can. Alice begins smiling again, she pulls harmless pranks on other people, she laughs again. 

A gifted student of Kamar-Taj, the choice is hers, leave or stay and she choses to help others as she had been helped before.

It’s when Dr. Stephen Strange arrives that things become a little more interesting

[poshpunkqueen]

WHEN THEY LOVE THE AESTHETIC BUT :

It must be fun to play The Racial Ambiguous Woman trope. You don't understand the colourism that plagues Black communities all over the world.

We know white women are watching and they know that Hollywood & Music industry accept you if you're stereotypical light skinned, big curly hair, thick lips, small waistline but a huge ass. They are spending alot weekly getting melanin shots (yes that's a thing and doctors are allowing it)

It's fun and cool until you get treated like a Black woman. You love our culture you love to fit yourself into our spaces. Fine cool. But you're silent on our issues.

Black and Brown women and girls go missing everyday. Sometimes the news speak on it other times it gets buried because Blonde hair blue- eyed girl from Chelsea just went missing.

Our girls are being sold into the sex trafficking industries

Our girls are bleaching their skin because their own friends, family and losers online are calling them monkeys, burnt toast and every colourist comment you can think of.

Our girls face hair discrimination. When we wear braids and afro it's labelled as ghetto or unprofessional but when you Non-POC wear it..its cool and festive.

They call our Notting Hill Carnival vulgar and violent but what about the drugs being passed around at Glastonbury, Reading & Leeds. Funny this year we had to cancel our carnival because of covid but it was quite fine for the predominantly white music festivals to carry on.

Our black women are deemed ghetto, uneducated, baby mamas and everything negative. Those who rise above this stereotype are often deem as "Not Black enough " or "An Oreo"

Don't even get me started on the Oversexualisation of Black women to make it 😒

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 8: Forgiven

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

---

Peter wasn't quite sure how long he lay in the warm sand, his and Mr. Stark's hands lazily entwined while the vulture lay a few feet away, webbed to a crate, but he didn't really care. For the first time in days--months, really--he felt okay. He felt calm and safe, never mind the pain in his ribs and licking at his burnt skin, they didn't matter to the teenager. He'd heal. He always did.

After a few more minutes, there was the sound of sirens. Peter propped himself up, staring at the approaching red and blue lights, his heart dropping slightly. He guessed this was it. Mr. Stark would have to deal with the plane and Peter would have to deal with Mr. Fowler. He wasn't quite sure how mad the man was going to be at him being gone for two days, but glancing down at his soulmate, he didn't particularly care. He'd get to see Mr. Stark again soon, and that was all he really needed to push himself to his feet.

Mr. Stark glanced at him, picking himself up as well and placing a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder before turning to stare at where every emergency vehicle ever was arriving.

"Guess it's time for clean up," Mr. Stark said, whistling lowly. "Happy is not gonna be too please with me."

"I'm sure you'll be able to handle him, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, fishing his mask out of the sand and shaking it out.

"Eh. I'm not super up to it. However, if I tell him I'm taking care of a sick and injured child, I might get away with it for the night."

Peter laughed. "Better find an injured child first."

"I found one." Mr. Stark wrapped a loose arm over Peter's shoulder, corralling him forward. "Don't think you're getting out of this that easily. The Medbay at the compound is waiting for your burnt behind. C'mon, let's go."

"Mr. Stark, I gotta--"

"Get to medical, correct."

"No. Mr. Fowler--"

"Has already counted you as missing for two days. Your curfew is long broken," Mr. Stark countered, moving to say something else when a shiny black car slid to a halt in front of him. More cars and vehicles followed suit. Mr. Stark gave him a smirked glance. "Might want to put that mask on if your secret identity still matters to you."

Peter slipped the mask over his face, following the man as people poured out of the vehicles. Mr. Stark stepped up to a tall man with a surly face and a tightly wound posture, practically storming over to the billionaire. His first instinct was to step in front of Mr. Stark, but the mechanic didn't tense at all, instead slipping into a slightly strained smile.

"What the hell happened here, Tony?" the man asked, glancing over at Peter in confusion.

"Criminal mastermind. He's webbed up back there," Mr. Stark said. After a tired moment, the man shook his head.

"You look half-dead. Go see an ambulance. Call Pepper. I'll take care of this."

"No can do, Happy," Mr. Stark responded, gesturing to where Peter was standing uneasily. "We're gonna head to the Medbay. I'll see you at the compound."

Happy looked ready to argue, but with one last glance at Peter, he just shook his head again. He looked like he was about to burst from the stress. "Do you need my car?"

"Mine's still running."

"Good. Call me when you get there."

"Definitely, Mama Bear. Come on, kid."

Nervously, Peter circled around Happy, following Mr. Stark quickly to where the sleek car was waiting. The engine was still running, and he guessed that Mr. Stark had left the keys in in his mad dash to get onto the beach and help him out. He blinked in slightly dazed confusion, unused to being important. To being cared for.

The sound of the car door opening distracted Peter from his thoughts, drawing his attention to where Mr. Stark had opened the back door of the vehicle. The man gestured between it and Peter.

"Well? You getting in or not?"

"Am I being demoted from shotgun?" Peter snipped, but he got in nonetheless. Surprisingly, Mr. Stark slipped in after him.

"No. We're gonna make sure you're not dying," Mr. Stark said. "Friday. To the compound."

"Of course, sir," the cool robot voice responded, and the car started off, riding easily back onto the street. Peter finally took his sandy mask back off, grimacing at the grit that had slipped into the cuts on his face and watching with a sharp eye as Mr. Stark pulled out a first aid kit from underneath the seat. It was ridiculously big and, when he opened it, ridiculously well stocked.

"Okay. Suit off, Petey-Pie, let's see what we're working with."

"Hey! I just got you back on the nicknames!" he protested. Mr. Stark fixed him with a smile.

"Your AI came up with Peter-butter. My turn. Now: Suit please."

With a tired grumble, the teenager pressed the spider on his chest and peeled the suit from his skin coated in a thin layer of blood and dried sweat. He grimaced, blushing at the sight of his thin ribs. To his credit, Mr. Stark didn't say anything, didn't even stare at how gaunt he was, just poured some rubbing alcohol on a cloth and went for the nearest wound on Peter's chest.

He held back a pained hiss at the sting.

"Hold that in place," Mr. Stark ordered. Peter placed his own hand over where the cloth was, and Mr. Stark returned to grabbing more materials for more wounds. "Rate your pain. One to ten."

"Six."

"An eight, then."

"No one asked you, Doctor Stark." Mr. Stark glanced up at him from where he was wiping at a bloody slash on his shoulder, his eyes flashing. The teenager didn't notice that it was in humor and not in anger. Peter lowered his eyes, stomach churning and swallowing nervously. He had to force in a breath, remembering that the hand on his shoulder was gentle and friendly. Not Mr. Fowler. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Pete. You saved a lot of lives tonight. Saved my ass, too. Make fun of me as much as you want."

"Really?"

"This deal is limited. You have an hour."

"That's unfair!" Peter protested.

"Tough luck."

"But--" He was cut off by a hiss of pain as the car hit a bump in the road, jostling his bruised body. His ribs felt like shit now that the adrenaline was rubbing off. He couldn't remember being in this much pain, and it was all the teenager could do to blink back tears as his entire body burned.

"Drive carefully please, Friday," Mr. Stark called. "Are your ribs okay?"

Peter shrugged. "They'll heal. They always do."

"See, that's not really good enough for me. Friday'll scan you when we get to the compound and make sure all your organs weren't squished. We're not going to deal with internal bleeding."

Peter nodded dumbly, the world feeling like it was coming to a crashing halt around him. He so desperately want to lay down, to sleep and forget about Mr. Fowler or the group home and how badly he didn't want for Mr. Stark to go. But he didn't voice any of it, instead staying ramrod straight as Mr. Stark wrapped bandages around his shoulder and chest, the man mumbling about pain medicine that probably wouldn't work while Peter stared out the window with a tired blink.

After a few minutes, he mumbled, "How are we going to explain this to Mr. Fowler?"

Mr. Stark paused, glancing up at him before turning back to wrapping a thick layer of bandages around his chest. They were already turning a little red, but Peter wasn't worried, sure that they would stop soon. After a moment, the man patted the bandages into place and sat back in his seat with a tired sigh.

"See, I'm not really thinking we should."

Peter's neck cricked with how fast his head turned to look at the man from where he'd been shrugging on the tattered MIT hoodie, his eyes widening. "What? No--Mr. Stark I have to tell him something. I can't just--"

"You can't just go back to him, Peter."

His heart felt like it skipped a beat, his eyes narrowing defensively.

"...What? Mr. Stark, what the hell are you talking about?"

The man's finger thrummed against his thigh, brows furrowing as he clearly thought about what to say next. After nearly a minute, he turned back to Peter. "Kid...Fowler didn't file a missing person's report."

"...And?"

"And?" Mr. Stark repeated incredulously, "Pete, you've been missing for two days. With no reports to the police. No sort of search party or notifications that you're not okay. Nothing to keep you safe. And foster parents especially are expected to be on top of this kind of thing."

Peter stared at the man in confusion, stuffing his hands in the torn hoodie nervously. He shrugged nonchalantly, fumbling desperately for an excuse that didn't sound like shit. "Mr. Fowler's just--he probably didn't want to freak all the other kids out and--"

"Peter."

His jaw clamped shut with an audible click. Mr. Stark sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

"Look... My dad--my dad wasn't the best. He was mean and constantly disapproving, and he hit me when he was mad. I thought it was pretty normal growing up--not that I liked it in the slightest--but I was used to it. It was just what I expected." Mr. Stark paused, holding Peter's teary stare. "But that didn't mean it wasn't wrong. Adults should never hit a kid. Ever."

Peter tore his gaze away from Mr. Stark, staring at the seat back in front of him. He stuttered, "Mr. Fowler--he doesn't--he's never--"

"He took your card," Mr. Stark cut off gently. "He bought alcohol. A lot of it. I'm sure the following nights weren't very pleasant--believe me, I would know. And, I hate to tell you this, but you're thinner than a twig and jumpier than a grasshopper. And don't tell me that it's your superpowers, I know it's more than that. Kid, he's a bad foster parent, and you deserve better."

The teenager was silent for a solid minute, avoiding Mr. Stark's gaze as a feeling of frustrated helplessness bubbled up under his skin, threatening to spill from his eyes. He swallowed, wishing desperately he could curl his knees up to his stomach and hide himself in a ball underneath the red and torn hoodie.

"I don't, really. It's my fault I'm in foster care in the first place, and I was in a nicer home before I got sent to Mr. Fowler. They caught me sneaking out to patrol and I got sent away, so. Really it's just karma or whatever."

"Karma shmarma," Mr. Stark snapped. "You. Deserve. Better."

Those words didn't make sense, not to Peter. Why should he deserve better? Why should he be allowed to go on living comfortably and happily while May and Ben were in a place so dark their shadows no longer existed? It'd been his fault, and no one else's. If he'd just paid better attention. If he hadn't been so selfish. If he hadn't been so mad.

No. He didn't deserve better. Mr. Fowler had become exactly what Peter deserved. This guilt was exactly what Peter deserved. It bubbled underneath his skin, angry and hot and painful. Peter grit his teeth as regret reared its ugly head.

"It doesn't matter!" the teenager shouted. Mr. Stark stared at him in surprise, eyes dark. There was a silence following his outburst, stiflingly uncomfortable. The anger left him immediately, leaving him slumped against the sleep with a stressed sigh. "It doesn't matter... He can put whatever he wants in my file, he already has. He has everything he needs to ship me out of the state the next time I fuck up. Which might be now, to be honest."

The thought appeared the moment he said it. Peter didn't want to go to Jersey. He didn't want to leave New York, full of memories, both good and bad. Memories of dark nights and memories of comforting shadows. It was enough for a single tear to slip through his defense.

There was silence. Tiring and stifling and awkward.

There was a hand through his hair. Soft and gentle and soothing.

Peter leaned in unconsciously, turning the look at Mr. Stark through his flopped curls. The man had shifted to sit closer to him, brown eyes sad and tired and horribly heavy.

"You deserve better, Peter," he repeated, not an ounce of hesitation about him. "Whatever happened that made you think you deserve to live with a man who hurts you, it wasn't bad enough. Nothing ever could be. Because you're a good person, and good people make mistakes. They always do."

Peter shrugged. "Mr. Fowler can still do whatever he wants. He's my guardian."

Mr. Stark pressed his chin into Peter's messy hair. He could practically feel the mechanic thinking, solving a puzzle. A bit of his snappiness returned, the Tony Stark persona flaring up.

"I'll fix it."

"But--"

"I'll fix it. Just let me help, Pete."

"...Okay," he said after a moment, just desperate to let his eyes slip close. Desperate to forget. Mr. Stark tapped his cheek as his eyelashes fluttered close.

"Thank you for trusting me, but no sleeping. Just in case you have a concussion."

Peter groaned in annoyance, but he continued to slump against his soulmate's shoulder, lazily tracing the way their shadows flickered. He liked it better when they were normal, when he had Mr. Stark's shadow, but Mr. Stark's arm against his own was good enough that he could live with it until they got to the compound.

 ---

Tony kept a steadying hand on Peter's shoulder as they stumbled out of the Medbay together. The kid looked dead on his feet, ready to pass out on the nearest soft surface, but Tony needed to set just a few more things in motion.

Friday's scans in the Medbay hadn't revealed anything new or horribly life threatening, just a few cracked ribs and broken bones healing rapidly. The mechanic had splinted what he could and given the kid more wraps before declaring him fit to head over to the Avengers common hall. Tony himself was resisting a heavy limp, grimacing with every painful step, but he hadn't broken any bones and there were about a million things to do before he could get some bedrest.

The door to the Avengers hall slid open for the two as they approached, revealing the shiny and empty living room and kitchen. Always empty. He pushed the thought down with a tired swallow, giving Peter's shoulder a pat and leading him forward with a forced excitement.

"You're going to love it here," he started, rambling. "It's really nice. Watch out for Vision though when you meet him, he has a problem with walls. Here, sit down on the couch right here, I'll be right back."

Peter plopped down on the leather cushions, doe eyes following Tony in complete exhaustion as he walked away. Tony stepped over to the fridge, opening it and roaming over the food inside. He frowned. It was fresh, but most of it was basic ingredients and produce for bigger meals. Spinach, peppers, raw meat, hunks of cheese. Overall, nothing that would help the teen right now, save for a large carton of juice that he grabbed.

He closed the fridge, opening the pantry instead and pulling out bags of cookies, pretzels, and a random bag of obnoxiously healthy vegetable chips. His arms full, he tapped the door closed with his foot and headed back over to Peter on the couch, setting all the snacks next to him. Peter stared at it for a second, eyes heavy.

"Eat up. I know you're falling asleep on your feet, but you need calories to heal. So eat, sleep, hang out, and when I get back everything will be fine. Okay?"

There was that doubt again, lingering in Peter’s dark brown eyes. A tired reluctance that Tony remembered in his own eyes when he’d finally escaped home.

But then Peter’s eyes brightened when they clicked with Tony’s own. A sliver of trust.

There was a ghost of a smile on the kid’s face.

"Okay, Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled, ruffling Peter's hair. "Friday will lead you to a room when you're done eating. I'll see you later, kiddo."

As Tony walked away and towards his unused room in the compound, the corners of his mouth tugged, able to faintly make out the opening music to Star Wars.

  ---

Tony arrived at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys while it was still dark, his torn and dirty suit replaced with a sharp blazer and a matching pair of slacks thrown over a random graphic tee he'd grabbed. Once he'd popped a few painkillers and made a few calls with Pepper and his lawyers, the man had grabbed a pair of car keys and left, but not before checking on Peter once more to find the kid already fast asleep. He'd draped a blanket over him as softly as possible and walked out the door.

Peter's tired face has stuck in his mind as he'd driven over. The sharpness of the cuts healing on his thin cheeks, the faint smattering of freckles and the curly hair dripping onto his forehead. The thought of anyone being okay with hurting that kid was dangerous in his mind. The Vulture, or, Adrian Toomes, as Happy had sent him, was already being dealt with, but Andrew Fowler had yet to face the consequences of his actions. And Tony didn't want to leave the other kids in his care for one more second.

Not even bothering the lock the door, Tony stepped out of the car and up the steps of the building. He rapped on the door furiously, his anger kneading into the wood. The number on the front trembled.

Tony knocked two more times before there was finally an answer. The door swung open, revealing the stale stench of beer and a grumbled man. His pale eyes widened only slightly at the sight of the billionaire in front of him before resetting to their original uncaring position. The man took a swig of the beer in his hand.

"What are you doing here? The brat hasn't been here in a couple of days."

Tony narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw and resisting the urge to smack the bottle out of the man's hand. "You know I'm here for Peter?"

"Kid receives a mysterious letter with the initials 'TS' on it and the best excuse he can come up with is a school sponsored pen pal named Tony Smart? I'm not an idiot."

"I would beg to differ on that, but a let's agree to disagree and all that, shall we? I've got bigger fish to fry."

"Look, as long as I get a cut of the kid's pay, you can keep him as long as you want."

Tony paused from where he was pulling a folded up piece of paper out of his blazer, his eyes flashing and his stomaching sinking with an icy hatred. "Pay?"

"That shiny card must be part of his pay, right? Though I thought a sugar baby of yours would get more than three hundred dollars."

This time, Tony couldn't help himself from knocking the beer out of Fowler's hand. It smashed against the doorway into a thousand pieces, like the mechanic wished he could do to the man. Fowler opened his mouth to shout a protest, but Tony beat him to it. With an angry step forward and a dramatic flash of the papers hiding in his jacket, he cornered the man.

"You're disgusting. That is a child, that you were just willing to, what--pimp out?"

"Jeez, fine. Don't get your panties in a twist," Fowler said, but there was a drunken and fearful wobble in his voice. Still, he demanded, "You owe me a new beer."

"No. I owe you these."

Tony shoved the papers into the man's hands. Fowler spluttered in protest, but took them anyway with fumbling hands, squinting down at the paper. There was a hungry interest slowly replaced by confusion and then destroyed by horror.

"What the hell is this?" Fowler demanded. Tony managed a vengeful smile.

"A warrant and a signed court order," Tony said icily. "All of the children here will be placed in new homes and you will be placed in custody."

"You can't do that!"

"I think you'll find that I can. And I did. You did commit credit card theft after all. And being me did help. Just a little."

"I can--I have rights!"

"Oh, yes. I am arresting you. I guess I should read you your Miranda Rights, huh?" He cleared his throat. "You have the right to remain silent--and I would prefer if you did--anything you say may be used against you in a court of--"

"Shut up!" the man panted, clearly panicked. Tony let out a low whistle, not ashamed in the slightest to say that he was enjoying the way this man squirmed and sweat and fumbled.

"Well, now I have to start over. Legally, I do have to tell you this. Then again, I don't have any cuffs on me so I guess an NYPD officer could read them to you if you'd prefer."

"I can--this is fabricated! Whatever that kid told you, he's lying!" When Tony glared, a no nonsense stare of harsh anger lining his face, Fowler stumbled for a different approach. "I'll sue!! I can accuse you of shit too, Stark."

"I'm sure you can try," Tony said softly. "In fact, I invite you to try. Have fun with it. But know this--you messed with my shadow, and I don't take too lightly to people who do that."

"Your--"

Fowler was interrupted by the wailing of sirens. Tony straightened, pulling on his blazer. "Ah, that must be the police. I hope you have a good lawyer, though I'm sure they won't be better than any of mine. And--oh! Rot in hell if you would, please."

Tony patted the man on the shoulder just a little too harshly.

The billionaire left as soon as he could, but not before collected the belongings of Peter's left behind and doing his best to assure the frightened kids at the house that everything was going to be okay for them. That it was going to be better.

Everything was going to get better. Tony was sure of it.

  ---

  When Peter woke up, it was to quiet murmuring and the rifling of papers. He tensed immediately, his brain autopiloting to Mr. Fowler rifling through the morning mail, realizing horribly that he must have fallen asleep downstairs and--

"--all the paperwork's been filed," a low voice said, interrupting the teenager's panicked thoughts. "It's just waiting for the kid's signature."

Kid? Oh. Him. Peter was the kid, and Mr. Stark was the voice, the one mumbling about papers nearby. Peter kept his eyes closed, evening out his breaths as he tried dimly to remember what was happening.

It struck him without much effort that he was at the Avengers Compound, healing after having been kidnapped and then fighting the Vulture. He must have fallen asleep on the couch Mr. Stark had led him to, and judging by the soft warmth wrapped around him, someone had draped a blanket around the wounded boy. There was a dull pain that throbbed throughout his body, but it was easy to tell that most of his injuries were well on their way to being healed. The teenager guessed that all the bandages could be removed by midday. He wondered if he'd be removing them at the compound or if he'd already be back at the group home.

"Tones," came another mumbled voice, clearly doubtful and stressed. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, I know he's your soulmate, but this is more than hanging out with or mentoring a kid. This is raising one."

Peter couldn't help the shock that made him tense and forced his eyes open. Thankfully, the two people talking were away from the couch and in the kitchen, unable to witness his small freak out. Raising? What the fuck???

Mr. Stark sighed, short and hot.

"I know, Rhodey, I know. The thing is, I could let him be placed back into the system, make sure he has a good home and let that be it, but I just... I mean, just looking at him is enough to tell me that that's the wrong move. I don't know what it is, but I see his face and I just--I just want to make sure he's okay. I want to keep him safe. It's--I don't know--it's like..."

"Like you were meant to be there?"

"Like I was made to protect him."

Peter flushed, fingers clenching around the blanket as he stared at his shadow, fixated on the tall shoulders and fluffy hair. He felt like he was choking on his own tongue, trying desperately to not say anything as he chewed on his cheek nervously.

"Maybe I was," Mr. Stark mused. "We still don't know why soulmates are soulmates anyway."

"Maybe," Colonel Rhodes responded. "If you believe in a higher purpose and whatnot."

"I don't. Usually. But for this, I think I do."

"I guess that all that's left is making sure Peter thinks you were made for it too."

"Yeah," Mr. Stark said. "Is it weird to be nervous? Like, this nervous? I've already sweat through my shirt."

Colonel Rhodes laughed. "I'll see you later, Tony. Good luck."

"Where are you going?"

"To put out fires for everything that happened last night. It happened right on Coney Island, Tones, every reporter in the city was there within ten minutes."

"Yikes. Hope you have fun, honey bear."

"You're an asshole."

"Love you too," Mr. Stark cooed. There was the sound of an elevator closing, and then it was just him and Mr. Stark. Peter wasn't sure whether to continue to pretend sleeping or not, not that he was sure he'd be able to properly fake it if Mr. Stark came over and looked up at him. He was practically frozen, stiff as a stick and staring ahead of him at his shadow with a fixed gaze.

Peter bit at his lip as he listened to Mr. Stark as he began to move around the kitchen, willing himself to sink into the cushions, relaxing with the clattering sounds of movement. He tuned into the notes of activity, listening intently as the billionaire softly clanged a pan on the stove, eggs cracked and cheese grated. There was the sizzle of cooking and the perfume of comfort. The teenager's mouth watered unwillingly at the smell of a hot breakfast.

So, of course, it was the grumble of his stomach that gave him away.

Peter winced at the loud noise, only worsened by the stifling of movement in the room for a long moment before it finally returned. He thought that maybe he'd gotten away with being awake when Mr. Stark called, "You up, kiddie?"

Seeing no point in lying, Peter pushed the blanket off of himself and peeked his head up over the back of the couch. Mr. Stark caught his eye immediately, overlooking the room from the stove in the kitchen area. The man smiled at him, and Peter tried for a small one back. It was weak, and he knew it. Mr. Stark probably knew it too.

"How're you feeling, Pete?" Mr. Stark asked.

"Ah, fine, fine," Peter said, getting off of the couch and stumbling over sleepily. After a moment of hesitation, he sat on a stool beside the kitchen counter, peeking over the polished marble to catch a glimpse of what Mr. Stark was cooking, pointedly ignoring the stack of papers on the other countertop. He was pretty sure that he was making an omelet. Just to double check, he asked, "Whatcha making?"

"Breakfast," Mr. Stark answered. So, not that helpful, but Peter didn't push. Instead, the teenager tried to sit back and make his shoulders relax. "We should check your bandages after we eat, okay?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, sure. That's good. Real good."

"And...I have something I want to talk to you about."

Peter couldn't help the way he froze, tensing so tightly he could probably make diamonds. Terrorizing anxiety coursed through the teenager in a way that he hated with every fiber of his being. He didn't know why he was freaking out so bad, why he felt like his soul was about to leave his body and take every rational thought with it.

"Yeah. Sure, sure. Okay," he managed to say. Mr. Stark gave him a look, but thankfully didn't pry, instead grabbing a spatula and tediously flipping the bright yellow omelet. Once that was finished cooking, Mr. Stark placed it on a plate a little messily and handed it to Peter along with a tall glass of orange juice. He thanked the mechanic quietly, quickly moving to eat the food.

Mr. Stark grabbed a piece of toast with jam on it and sat on a stool next to Peter. The two sat in tired silence while they ate, nothing breaking the lull save for the slight chewing of food and scraping of utensils. Mr. Stark finished his piece of toast before Peter finished his omelet, but only barely as the teenager polished it off ravenously. He could tell that Mr. Stark was anxious to get to that talk, but the man allowed for him to finish his glass of orange juice before beginning to talk again.

"So," Mr. Stark started, tapping on the counter nervously. Peter watched him anxiously as the man stepped off the stool, continuing to talk as he walked into the kitchen. "How much of our conversation do you remember while you were concussed last night?"

"Ah, most of it. I think," Peter said.

"Do you remember when I told you you couldn't go back to Fowler? And that I'd fix it?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah..."

"Well, I've got a solution." Mr. Stark stopped, his back to Peter, in front of where the stack of papers had been sitting. There was a moment of silent hesitation before the man picked it up, turning back around to face the teenager. "It's--if you don't like it, I can figure something else out, it's all up to you. But I'm completely willing to become your legal guardian."

Peter just stared, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. Shock overtook his bruised body, leaving him a restless shell that was reduced to do nothing but stare. Mr. Stark hurried on in a slight panic.

"Of course, nothing's been finalized. My topnotch lawyers and the pulling of a couple of strings got me these" he gestured to the papers, "pretty quickly. They've all been notarized and signed, but nothing's official until you agree. It's your choice, kid."

Swallowing felt like the hardest thing he'd ever done as the teenager tried desperately to reset his glitching brain.

"My... You're going to be my guardian?" was all that he could say. It came out as a squeak, barely audible even to his ears.

Mr. Stark nodded. "Only if you're okay with it."

Peter could only gape at him for a moment before sputtering, "Wha--I don't-I don't---are you okay with it??"

Mr. Stark's face, contorted into confusion and slight apprehension, relaxed as the teenager finally managed to spit out his confusedly stuttered question. The smile that appeared was a little tired, a little exasperated, but no less warm.

"I'm five thousand percent okay with it," the man said. "I've never been more okay with anything in my life."

Peter stared up at him, swallowing forcefully. He wanted to say yes, to agree and finally be safe and okay, but hope was something hard to hold onto. This kind of trusting optimism, it was horribly unfamiliar to the teenager. It had been months since a hand on his shoulder had meant the friendly guidance of a caring parent rather than the controlling demand of Mr. Fowler. Since hugs had been constant and loving and Peter hadn't had to wonder about his place or his next meal. All those months had festered up so easily, and even the thought of trusting that everything would be okay with Mr. Stark was daring.

"Are you sure? Like, really sure? Because, I know-I know I can cause a lot of trouble and I still want to stay at my school in Queens and--"

"Then we'll stay in Queens," Mr. Stark interrupted. "And I'll keep up with you and your 'trouble.' I want to. I want to take care of you." When Peter was silent, Mr. Stark chewed at his cheek and then started, "You know what they say about soulmates? And their purpose?"

"That depends on who you ask, Mr. Stark," Peter managed to mutter. Mr. Stark huffed a laugh.

"Fine. What's the oldest, craziest, old wive-i-est tale about soulmates and destiny you can think of?"

Peter thought for a moment, searching in his mind desperately for what his Aunt and Uncle had used to tell him whenever he'd asked about soulmates. About when he'd meet his shadow and what it would be like.

"That souls were attached to each other for a reason?" he suggested with a shrug. "I don't know. Aunt May used to say that we were part of the same soul, but Uncle Ben wouldn't hear a word against soulmates being different souls that were, like, perfectly matched to support each other. He believed more in the destiny part."

Mr. Stark smiled.

"They sound like they knew what they were talking about."

Peter nodded, rubbing at his nose and sniffing tearfully, "Yeah. Yeah, they were pretty great."

"Well, I've never been one for the whole destiny thing, but I can't deny what it feels like to be around my soulmate. Like a purpose just dropped on my doorstep. Which is how I know that I'm more sure than sure that I want to take care of you."

"You think that that's your purpose?"

It sounded ludicrous to the teenager's ears. This was Tony Stark. Iron Man. He saved lives and the world and he'd fought aliens. He provided affordable and clean energy for the world. He ended wars and funded charities and he was important. And Peter...Peter was just himself.

"I know it is."

Peter let that sit, eyes glancing for a moment. Something finally clicked. After what felt like years and no time at all he choked out a teary, "Yeah. Yeah, I wanna stay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly Mr. Stark was by his side, a hand draped over his shoulder and his chin pressed into the boy's hair. Peter couldn't help the tears then, silent and staining his cheeks a flushed red. He sniffled with the relieved tears, his nose beginning to run. Mr. Stark only wrapped him in a tighter hug, soothing circles rubbed into the teen's bony back.

"It's okay, Peter. I've got you."

  ---

  After Peter signed the papers, Tony had broken out two specially ordered cupcakes, his heart practically cracking in two at the way the teenager's eyes had lit up with unbelievable excitement. The mechanic had expected for the kid to gobble up the dessert in less than a second flat, but instead, Peter savored it slowly, as if afraid that it would disappear if he took his eyes off of it.

Peter later admitted the truth about mealtimes at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. The same meals every day (cereal for breakfast, PB&J's for lunch and dinner). One snack. No sweets.

No wonder the kid was nothing but skin and bones.

Tony kept Peter in the compound for another few days after the Vulture incident, putting out fires and making sure the kid, and himself, had both fully healed. As well as narrowing down some apartments in Queens. He and Pepper had already been picking between them for days beforehand anyway, so he'd taken the last options to Peter, not that the kid had really voiced an opinion.

Tony ended up going with the most expensive one. They moved in after three days in the compound. A small suitcase filled with Peter's meager belongings that Happy had recovered from the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys was the only thing the kid ended up bringing with him. If Tony had to guess, he would say that the teenager had maybe three pairs of clothes.

The kid kept huddled next to him, painfully close the entire time as Tony swiped the card to the building, as they walked through the lobby and into the elevator, and when they finally walked through the door. Not that he minded in the slightest, enjoying the bewildered look on Peter's face as they stepped into the apartment. There was still plenty of unboxing to do and furniture to move around, with Pepper's supervision of course, but the teenager was clearly losing his mind with the high-rise.

"Whoa..." Peter muttered under his breath. Tony hummed in agreement.

"Pretty nice, right? Of course, Friday hasn't been installed yet, and there's a few changes to be made, but I think this is good."

"Changes?"

"This building didn't come pre-stocked with a state of the art lab, y'know. I was thinking about transforming the floor below."

"This apartment has three floors?" Peter asked, his eyes widening as he turned away from the glass stairs leading up to where Tony was pretty sure a couple of bedrooms were.

"No, just two. I bought the building."

"You... What?"

"I bought the building," Tony repeated offhandedly, moving to explore the new kitchen. "We still have neighbors downstairs, of course, but I wasn't about to have a landlord tell me what to do. Besides, better for insurance."

"I don't like that that's what you're concerned about," entered a new voice. Tony turned and smiled brightly at the sight of his girlfriend stepping into the apartment. She was clearly tired from all the fallout from the plane crashing, but she held a genuine smile on her face nonetheless.

"Pep!" Tony called. "You're just in time to unpack."

Pepper rolled her eyes at him, instead turning to greet Peter, who was staring at the woman like she was God herself. When she held out a hand, it took Peter a few moments to fumble out a response and shake her hand.

"Hi--hello, Ms. Potts," the kid stuttered. "I'm--I'm Peter."

"Hi, Peter. You can call me Pepper."

"Okay. Pepper."

Tony made a buzzer noise. "Excuse me? I'm still Mr. Stark? Who's your soulmate here?"

"That's your name, Mr. Stark," Peter smiled. Tony ruffled his hair as embarrassingly as possible.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Peter-butter."

If looks could kill, he would say that Peter was trying to kill him. However, the flushed cheeks and baby doe eyes did nothing but make Tony's heart wiggle in amusement and Pepper stifle an coo.

"Stop terrorizing the kid," Pepper reprimanded. "Especially when we've got work to do. Once Peter's stuff gets here we can begin moving that into you room, but for now we'll work on the main area."

"Oh, uh, my stuff is here, Ms. Potts," Peter mumbled. Eyes strayed to the beaten up bag. Tony and Pepper exchanged a glance.

"New plan," Tony announced. "Online shopping. C'mon."

"But--"

"Nope," Pepper cut across. "You're a part of the family now, Peter. We get to splurge on gifts."

Together, the two grabbed Peter's arms, leading him over to the steadiest pile of boxes and sitting down. Tony pulled out his phone and placed it in front of Peter, who didn't even touch the phone now balanced on his leg, just stared at it in confusion.

"I--what?"

Making a face, the mechanic tapped Peter's head. "C'mon, Petey-Pie. You know how to work a phone. Whadda ya want first?"

"I don't--I don't know? I don't really care."

Tony glanced over at Pepper once more, a little bit at a loss. He would be lying if he said he knew exactly how to connect with Peter. He felt like he'd been doing a good job thus far, but not everything made sense to him about their relationship, and a teenager given basically an infinite amount of resources to get whatever he wanted and wanting nothing was confusing him more than anything ever had.

With a look that clearly said, 'Let me take the lead,' Pepper picked up the phone, drawing Peter's attention.

"How about we just start simple? We'll start on your room now, and then go shopping later for clothes, okay?"

"O-okay," Peter mumbled. Tony gave him a comforting pat on the back.

"Great," Pepper said. "What kind of bed do you want? Queen? King? Bunk bed?"

"Bunk bed," Peter said after a moment.

"Great. What sheets?" Tony asked. Peter shrugged, but Tony shook him playfully. "C'mon, my little shadow. I know you're a nerd deep down, and on the surface too. What sheets do your geeky little teenager heart desire?"

"Star Wars?"

"Star Wars it is," Pepper declared.

Peter smiled, his cheeks cherry red. Tony grinned. Now they were getting somewhere.

    Ten Months Later

    "Boss, Mr. Parker is back."

Tony glanced up from where he was working in the lab, looking away from his newest project to smile brightly at the ceiling. He stood up, wiping his oily hands off on his equally oily pants, finally conceding to grab a cloth and rub the slick grease from his fingers. The mechanic gave the new project one last glance before throwing the cloth down on the nearest table and stepping toward the elevator.

"Great. Tell him I'm on my--"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Tony turned, a confused expression turning into a small smile as he caught sight of the red and blue figure stuck on the window, waving at the mechanic in excitement. He rolled his eyes, walking over and undoing the latch on the window to let the teenager finally at a healthy weight roll into the room.

"I'm gonna start putting bug spray around the apartment until you learn to use a door," Tony warned. Peter pulled his mask off, revealing hair pulled down by sweat and a bright smile. They grew brighter and brighter every day. The teenager rammed a shoulder into Tony's playfully.

"Why can't a window be a door?"

"Because it's a window."

"Old houses in the south used to be able to transform between windows and doors to evade taxes."

Tony considered him. "How do you know this?"

"Decathlon."

Tony rolled his eyes, unsure of how he hadn't guessed that. He was going to the kid's competition next week for heaven's sake!

"Well, this is not the old south. We use doors here."

"That's less fun."

"Yeah, yeah. Go wash up for dinner."

"But it's barely five! I was going to go out again."

"Should've thought about that earlier," Tony teased. "It's family dinner night. And don't you have an essay due?"

Peter mumbled, but listened nonetheless, beginning to pad away towards the elevator to go up to their apartment suite, when there was the ringing of an oncoming call. Both of their heads turned as a screen popped up, displaying an unknown number, untraceable too. Tony and Peter exchanged raised eyebrows as the kid walked back over.

"What is this, Fri?"

"It is an incoming call from the phone Captain Rogers sent you."

Peter glanced between him and the screen warily. "That means there's a problem, doesn't it?"

"Probably," Tony admitted.

He turned to the kid, patting the kid's back and fixing him with a steady stare. Peter's doe eyes attached to his, trusting in a way that had been growing exponentially recently. Tony hadn't known it was possible to look at someone with that much trust. That much love. Especially from a kid whose first interaction with Tony had ended up in him running away, but life had become steadily calm, steadily trusting, as the days had gone by. As the months had. A few bumps in the road and a couple of mishaps, some bigger than others along the way, but good nonetheless. Yeah, life was good.

Tony liked to think he was right most of the time, but even he knew he was pretty hit or miss on how to remain any kind of relationship. But this--Tony knew he'd been right. His purpose was to protect Peter. And he loved every second of it.

"But if it is, I'll keep you safe. We'll fix it together."

Peter's lips tugged in a trusting smile. He held out a fist. "Together. MacaTony--"

Tony returned the fist bump lightly with a roll of his eyes, grinning as he caught sight of their shadows switching, "--And Peter-butter."

Whatever Steve was calling for, neither would be going in alone. They were never alone.

Their shadows made sure of it.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

@annabanannabeth​

[decadentbananapuppy-blog]

Things to Know About Lip Filler Treatments

Has the increasing number of celebrities getting lip filler treatments convinced you to get your lips plump? If yes, then you have come to the right spot. Getting any kind of treatment can be scary because of the unknown outcome but worry not as here is everything you need to know about lip fillers:

 You have several options

You have many lip fillers available. Restylane was a popular choice in lip injections in 2015. It is an advanced option and is similar in composition to hyaluronic acid. Hyaluronic acid is a naturally occurring substance in our bodies that is responsible for the plumpness of the skin.

This option is more long-lasting and safer. The other option is collagen which can require a four-week allergy test. Collagen is extracted from bovine hides. One more option is to take fat from your own body and inject it into your lips. However, this lasts the shortest as the fat is reabsorbed.

 You decide the amount

You can control how fuller lips you want. With hyaluronic acid fillers, it is possible to control the amount injected into your lips. Too much of anything is risky. You have the control in your hands, you can decide during the process whether you need more or not. Depending on your lips, you may only need a few fillers to get the job done.

 It is non-surgical procedure

These are not considered surgical procedure because it is just injections, not implants so it is not really a surgery. It can be performed easily with just a topical numbing solution.

 It does not have to hurt

The pain can vary depending on who is doing the procedure. People use numbing gel or dental blocks so it usually does not hurt.

  It is affordable

Lip filler treatment is definitely not cheap but it is not too expensive either. It depends on the location where you are getting the treatment from and the number of injections you get. However, it is not ideal to go to a dermatologist just because of affordability. The biggest concern should be the outcome of the procedure. Of course, as a general rule, the more experienced the doctor, the better the results will be.

 Possible Side Effects

Lip fillers have gotten rather common but there can be side effects. Common complaints include redness, swelling, bruising or pain. However, these side effects can be treated and generally go away within a few days. However, if you feel that lumps have formed then it is time to consult the doctor. This is why it is recommended only to use experienced doctors and clinics.

 Conclusion

Lip filling treatments are getting more and more advanced and as a result only a fraction of people have the possible side effects. It is important that you assess how much of the fillers you need. Consult with the doctor beforehand and get only the required amount. It is everyone’s right to look their best and if some fillers can make your lips plump and make you look beautiful then why not?

If you are in or near to Leeds, UK then Call Lane Aesthetics is the best choice to get quality lip filler Leeds treatment.

[caresmetics]

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[mshermia]

A Dream Or A Nightmare

By @mshermia for @blackchessknight

Rating: Teen & Up

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Natasha Romanoff, Helen Cho, Steve Rogers, Ned Leeds

Summary: Peter gets hurt during a mission. When he wakes up, it dawns on Tony that Peter doesn't remember a few things; he didn’t just forget about Tony but also being Spider-Man. While Peter thinks he's living his teenage dream spending time with the freaking Avengers, Tony is petrified he might never get the kid back who remembered being his son.

Many thanks to @friendly-neighborhood-exchange for all their work on this! This story is part of the Friendly Neighborhood Exchange #4.

AO3 Link

There were post-mission problems - like when Tony had to iron out the kinks in his suit - no pun intended-and had to pick up the bill for the remodel of a skyscraper - but then there were post-mission problems - like when his kid was passed out in a hospital bed, both his legs and one arm in a full cast.

Like right now.

It had been a few hours since they had patched him up, but so far, there was no sign of consciousness in Peter. Cho had reiterated once or twice that his body simply needed the rest and Tony would just have to be a little patient for his healing factor to pick up the pieces. It would take a little time and a lot of energy and Tony would just have to sit there and let Peter's body do its job.

Which was just great. Really. Just awesome, because patience, well, patience was one of Tony's core qualities. He was great at it. Top tier.

With a groan, he buried his face in both of his hands. They were at 8 hours and 47 minutes now. 8 hours and 47 minutes since Cho had rolled Peter out of the treatment room, her face solemn but not unkind.

"Just go lie down, Tony," she had said. "It'll be a few hours before he wakes up. Just get some rest."

Like that line had ever worked on him. Like he had ever left Peter's side after a mission before. No, even if the thought of May's ghost coming back and haunting his ass for leaving Peter would have had its perks, he'd made a promise and meant to keep it. The kid was it for him. His responsibility. His job. Out of all of them, by far Tony's favorite job. His life, really.

There was no version of this where he would move from Peter's side.

The idea of sleep at this point was a farce. Whenever Tony even attempted to close his eyes, the memories of that afternoon washed back up. No matter how deep he tried to bury them, they just wouldn't stay covered. He could still see it, the force with which Peter had been smashed into the building. Could still hear the white noise of his racing heart as he had desperately tried to move the debris under which Peter had been buried. He didn't need the nightmares that were waiting for him to just give in, to rest and sleep. No, when Peter would wake up that was when he'd even start to think about getting some rest.

With all his determination - and the frequency that Tony had spent time next to Peter in the med wing over the last year or so - you'd think he might have invested in a few more comfortable chairs but there was something about him being in discomfort that made waiting for his kid to wake up a little more bearable. Only this time, it took a little too long. This time it wasn't just Tony's back that was strained and his legs that were cramping. His nerves were on edge. 8 hours and - now - 48 minutes. 

It felt like it was a little too long. He couldn't remember Peter ever being out cold this long before.

It took another 2 hours and 21 minutes until - thank the gods, all of them - Peter's eyelids fluttered. Slowly at first, confused and dazed until he squinted to the side, looking right at Tony.

"Good morning, sunshine," Tony greeted him, the smile on his lips entirely genuine.

For what felt like an unusually long moment, Peter simply looked at him like he didn't really see him. Like Tony was part of the wallpaper rather than sitting there, leaning in closer. The poor little buddy was still all punch-drunk, a little lost even.

"How's your head, kid?"

Peter blinked a couple of times, his eyes growing a little rounder, definitely wider, but his gaze never left Tony's face. "You... You're Tony Stark."

Panic flashed through Tony faster than lightning, goosebumps rising on his arm. Was he... did he not remember?

Peter's eyes on the other hand grew a little wider if that was even possible. "OMG, Iron Man... you're Iron Man." The corners of his mouth pulled into a wide smile.

That little prankster... Tony huffed out a breath, one hand clutching his heart. "Jeezes kid, you almost had me." Adrenaline was still pulsed through him but he couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't often, that Peter's pranks worked on him.

"H-had you?" The smile on Peter's lips faltered just as his brow furrowed. "Oh... oh, what the..." He pressed his eyes shut. Fingers and thumb of his right hand - the one left cast-free - rubbed across his temples. 

As fast as Tony's cramping legs allowed, he rushed forward, one hand on the back of Peter's head, the other on the side of his face. "It's okay..." With practiced ease, his fingers ran through Peter's hair, tracing back and forth across his skull with just enough pressure that it should help ease the pain.

Little by little, Peter's heavy breathing slowed, the tension on his face slowly ebbing away. 

"FRI, let's tilt up that headrest a bit." As the bed was moving Peter into more of an upright position, Tony tried to catch his eye. "That better?" 

When their eyes met, he couldn't help but flinch at the look of utter confusion on Peter's face. "Y-yeah," he mumbled, never looking away from Tony.

"Where else does it hurt?" Tony's fingers were still rubbing back and forth through Peter's soft locks, the pressure low just like Tony knew May used to do for him. Like he had done so many times ever since it had been just the two of them.

"I... I'm not..." He couldn't seem to find the words. "What happened?"

Tony tried to swallow the rising panic attack that was brewing just below his skin. "You don't remember?"

Just then, the door edged open. Natasha stuck her head into the room. "Well, look who's back amongst the living!" She smiled warmly as she stepped in.

Peter's face on the other hand went a little paler. "It's... it's the Widow," he mumbled to himself, then sucked in a shaky breath. "Black Widow and Iron Man. Black Widow and Iron Man. This is... this is... wow."

Nat glanced over at Tony, her eyebrows slowly rising. "Uh-oh... that doesn't sound good."

Tony swallowed hard. "FRI, can you get Helen for us? Fast."

 "Right away, boss."  

Peter's eyes blinked up to the ceiling. "Shit, that's so cool."

"Hey, buddy..." Tony's hand on the back of his head gave it a soft squeeze, just enough to get his attention back. "Pain level? On a scale of 1 to 10, where're we at?"

"Erm..." He wasn't even blinking, just staring at Tony.

"1 is stubbing your toe, 10 is Toomes dropping a building on you." His heart was racing but this was absolutely not the time for Tony to have a panic attack.

"A... a building," Peter asked, dumbfounded.

"Fuck." Tony's hands were starting to sweat.

A glance at Natasha didn't help his nerves at all. A deep frown and an unambiguous sense of worry had replaced the cool facade she usually displayed.

Once again, the door to the room was pushed open. Helen Cho was on the other side of Peter's bed before Tony had even blown out a deep sigh of relief. With Helen, Peter was in good hands, the best hands.

"Hi there, Peter." Helen smiled down at him before her eyes moved back to the monitor displaying his vitals. "It's good to see you up."

"Er... hello."

"His memory," Tony spluttered. "Please, do something!"

"Alright, relax..." Natasha stepped up next to him, her hands on his arms pulling him away from Peter. "Give her some room to work."

"It's okay. I got him, Tony." Helen gave him a smile that was surely meant to look encouraging. It was everything but that though. It resembled the one that she had given him right after the last time Tony had needed a long-ass session in the cradle, resembled it a little too closely for Tony's liking. Her smile turned a little warmer when she looked back at Peter. "Do you know who I am, dear?"

"You..." Peter blinked a few times, his cheeks turning pink. "You're the doctor? M-my doctor?"

"My name is Helen."

"Oh, right..." Peter gave a swift smile. "He-hello Doctor Helen."

"Do you know who this is?" She pointed at Tony.

The nervous little laugh that bubbled out of Peter would have been cute in any other circumstance. "That... that's Tony Stark," he whispered, repeatedly glancing at Tony, then added "Iron Man" just as quietly and with just as much awe.

Helen's smile didn't falter though. "Do you remember when you met Tony for the first time?"

"Er... well, yeah actually, it..." He rubbed a hand through his hair, eyes now on the sheets. "When I was... er... when I was 8. He..." The color on Peter's cheeks turned a little darker. "well, we didn't like meet-meet but kind of... met at the Expo. He... he helped me. Erm... blasted one of those Hammer drones away that... that was right in front of me."

Helen stole a glance in his direction but Tony could only shake his head. He had no idea what Peter was talking about. 

"Okay, what is the last thing you remember doing?"

Peter opened his mouth, then frowned. "I... er..." For a moment he just sat there, blinking at her, mouth still open. "I... I don't know."

"Alright. That's okay. Look at me for a moment." She leaned towards him, a little flashlight in her hand. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Er..." He struggled to keep his eyes open as Helen moved the light from one eye to the other.

She studied him closely, her frown deepening. "What year?" 

Peter didn't even try for an answer this time. His face fell a little with every passing moment, panic steadily replacing the awestruck expression on his face. "I don't... I don't know. I don't know!"

"It's alright," Helen soothed, patting his shoulder.

With wide eyes, Peter turned to Tony like he had all the answers but he was completely useless, struggling to even think of how to start fixing this. "What's happening, Helen? What... what do I need to do? Talk to me!"

"Okay, let's just... let's just stay calm." Natasha took another step forward, positioning herself between Tony and Peter's bed. "Tony, I'm looking at you."

His eyes shot up at her but the loud drum of his heart thundering in his ears made his head hurt.

"Right," he breathed.

"Listen, this, er..." Peter's voice was quiet, close to shaking. "Thank you, you know, but I... I should really call my aunt and uncle. They... they're probably worried and I don't want them to have to worry because if they worry then I worry and I—"

"Alright, just..." Tony's heart was racing. "We'll... we'll figure that out, okay?"

It took all the strength he had not to go running from that room. If his nerves had been rising before it was no contest to the adrenaline that was now pumping through Tony's veins. 

Peter didn't remember. Ben and May Parker were dead and the kid didn't remember.

Instead, he was staring at Tony, eyes wide in starstruck wonder. "Oh, okay," he nodded, cheeks burning. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

Before Tony could even think about how he was supposed to deal with telling Peter the truth, once again, the door to his room was pushed open. This time it was Rogers, positively humming with his never-fading good spirits.

"Hi there, Peter." Steve cringed as he took in the casts on both his legs and arms, then winked. "You look a little tied up there."

"Captain America... Captain America knows my name," Peter mumbled as if to himself, eyes wide in awe. 

Eyebrows raised, Steve's glance shifted to Helen, then Tony. "Yikes."

The room was getting too crowded, giving Tony a fresh vibe of claustrophobia. Like she could smell it on him, Natasha grabbed him by the arm. 

"Maybe you should discuss the details of the situation with Helen in her office, hm?" 'Or anywhere but in this room' - was what her eyes were saying instead. 

"No," Tony mumbled. "I can't— I won't—"

"Nat and I will keep Peter here some company," Steve chimed in before flashing a toothy smile at Peter. "Sound good, kid?"

Mouth a little gaping, Peter nodded slowly. 

"Nat can tell you about the time she went to Kalkutta and tried to outsmart Bruce Banner," he smiled even wider. "That sound good to you?"

"Really... er... really good," Peter mumbled.

The idea of leaving Peter had Tony's anxiety spike but not as much as the thought of having to tell him about his uncle's murder and his aunt's illness. He didn't resist, letting his feet fall in front of each other one step at a time as Helen tugged him by the arm.

"We'll figure this out, Tony," she said after she closed the door behind them. "Just take a breath."

"I'll take a breath when I know he'll be okay," Tony hissed through his teeth. "What is going on? You said you did a scan! You said he'd be fine!"

She held up her hands like it was going to calm him. Like he was a fucking horse that got a little spooked.

"I'll have to run some more tests but with how you described his crash, it is likely that he suffered a traumatic brain injury which affects the memory-storage areas of his brain, which is why we originally did the first scan when you brought him in."

Goosebumps erupted on his skin and had him shiver in reaction. "He's got amnesia."

"Right," Helen nodded. "We'll have to monitor him to figure out how much of his memory he has lost and if it's limited to a retrograde amnesia or also impairs his ability to form new memories."

"Jeezes." His face buried in both his hands, Tony had trouble focusing on one coherent thought himself. He swallowed hard, eyes back on Helen. "Well, when are his memories going to be back?"

Helen's face was somber. "It's something we will have to reevaluate step by step."

"But..." Panic, worse than before, was making his heart race. "But he is going to get his memories back, right?"

"I don't know, Tony." Her sympathetic frown was not helping with his panic at all. 

"Well, what do you know?!" 

"Hey..." The door to Peter's room had opened and closed. Steve was next to him in a matter of moments. "You need to keep it down out here." One of his hands was on Tony's shoulder and led him further down the hallway as his head bowed towards him. "We'll figure this out, Tony. Just breathe, okay?"

It was easier said than done. Tony's lungs were reluctant to work. With every frantic beat of his heart, panic seemed to vibe in his core a little stronger. 

His focus was still on Helen. "There has to be something we can do, just... just tell me what I have to do!"

"I'm sorry, Tony, there is just too little that we know. With his healing factor, the injury to his brain might have been more severe than we could detect by the time you brought him to the Compound. It's possible that his body had already started the healing process and what we see now are the lingering symptoms from the injury." 

"He can't... he can't even remember his aunt and uncle dying! What..." Tony tangled both hands in his hair, pulling hard like the pain of it would ease the agony of his racing mind. "What am I supposed to tell him?"

"It's a difficult situation," Helen said, entirely unhelpful.

No longer able to keep his feet still, Tony moved away from her, back towards the door of Peter's room only to remember that behind lay his kid that didn't remember ever really meeting him. Didn't remember the months of agony after May's death they had overcome together. Tony couldn't do that again. He wouldn't be able to bear it, to see the kid hurting like that again, not now when Peter had finally managed to brave the heartache of his loss.

Tony turned away from the door to stalk down the corridor, running as far away as his trembling legs would let him, only to be stopped by Steve.

"Just sit down for a moment, okay?"

Tony shook his head. He couldn't sit. He couldn't keep the panic at bay any longer. He was going to combust.

But instead, two strong hands pressed down on his shoulders and he found himself sat in one of the chairs that lined the med wing's hallway. As fast as his knees gave way, so did his emotions finally bubble out of him. His face hidden behind both his hands, Tony tried to cover up the tears, his unsteady breathing as his anxiety got the better of him. Steve's hand that lay heavy around his shoulders actually didn't hurt. It grounded him just enough to cling to some of his composure.

"You should get some sleep," Steve mumbled. "He's not gonna be awake for long anyway with his body still healing. Just... lie down and rest and—"

"No," Tony croaked. Steve's arm slid away as Tony sat up straight again. "I'm not going anywhere." Repeatedly, he rubbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt across his face. "I'm all the family he has left. Just me and—" 

Right, there was one more person that was like family to Peter, like a brother.

"FRI!" Tony's eyes flickered up to the ceiling. "Get Happy to pick up Ned Leeds. Tell him to hurry."

 #

 For an hour and a half, Tony allowed Steve to distract him in the communal kitchen. He ate some of Sam's lasagne, snuck about 4 cups of espresso until FRIDAY finally announced the arrival of Ned and Happy.

It wasn't Ned's first visit to the Compound. Even though Tony and Peter usually lived at the Tower, he had taken the boys out to the Avengers complex upstate for a number of weekend trips. It got Peter's mind off his worries and the awestruck look on Ned's face was always a picture.

This was likely the first time that Ned refrained from gawking at the high ceiling of the lobby, his eyes on Tony.

"Let's go," Tony mumbled, dipping his head toward the med wing.

Ned didn't hesitate, his tension visible in his clenched fists. "What happened?"

Tony gritted his teeth, pushing the memory back down that wanted to send him spiraling once again. "He got thrown against a building and that hard skull of his brought down the whole thing on top of him."

Ned blew out a shaky breath. "But he's awake?"

"Yeah, only can't remember m-much." Tony had just about stopped himself from a 'remember me' slipping off his tongue.

Ned glanced at him. "And you think me being here will help?"

"He doesn't remember that May and Ben are dead. I think maybe... maybe a friendly face will help. Even if it doesn't trigger anything. Just to..." Tony sucked in a sharp breath, "to soften the blow."

Ned cursed then his head turned back to Tony. "Wait, but..." He shook his head. "He still knows who you are, right?"

Avoiding Ned's face, he tried really hard to keep the emotion out of his voice. "He remembers Iron Man."

Before Ned could say another word, Tony pushed open the door to Peter's room. Natasha was still sitting next to his bed but quickly receded to the back wall as Peter's enthusiastic voice echoed through the room!

"Ned! You're here!" Awkwardly with his legs and one arm a little elevated in their casts, Peter waved at him with his good hand. "Hi there, Mr. Stark," he added, his cheeks once again blushing profusely.

"Shit, dude, your legs!" 

A little hesitant, Ned moved closer to the bed. But when Peter stretched out his hand, ready to greet him with their signature handshake, the tension in Ned's shoulders lifted.

"I know right? It's sick!" Then he shrugged. "At least it should get me out of PE."

"For a little while at least." 

Helen had made her way back into the room right after them. She placed a hand on Tony's upped arm, squeezing it reassuringly. This is where they were supposed to start. Talk about Peter's physical recovery before they headed down the dark winding road of his amnesia.

"When you've eaten, we'll have to get a couple more scans in but right now," she continued. "But right now I see no reason why it should take you longer than the normal ten days for multiple broken limbs until the casts can come off."

"Ten days? What," Peter snorted. "What kind of doctor are you?"

"Dude..." Ned's eyes were wide, as he glanced over at Helen.

"I... I'm sorry! So sorry," Peter's face turned beet-root-red. "I just... last time I broke my arm it... it took like seven months till the cast came off. Re-remember, Ned? I...I couldn't even play with your new playstation all summer!"

It didn't come as a real surprise to Tony, not at this point. He didn't remember being Spider-Man. Tony had feared as much since Ben Parker had died a few weeks after Peter's bite.

"Yeah, but..." Ned looked right at Peter. "But that was before."

"Before?" Peter frowned at him, then shook his head. "Before what?"

Both Ned and Helen turned to Tony, waiting expectantly for him to say something but Tony couldn't find the words. He didn't know where to begin. Before panic could take hold of his body and soul once more, it was Natasha who stepped up.

"Before you got your powers," she said like she was talking about yesterday's weather.

Slowly, Peter's eyes shifted from person to person before he glanced back at Nat. "My powers?"

"Yes, that was before you were bitten by a radioactive spider and developed superhuman strength and healing abilities." She tilted her head a little, studying him like this was the key that would bring back the kid's memory. "You also stick to things. Like walls."

"Radioactive spider?" Peter's eyebrows slowly rose closer and closer to his hairline. "And I stick to things." After another glance at Ned who nodded enthusiastically, Peter bit his lip. "So, I have superpowers. And I guess... I guess being here with you..." there was another pause while he gnawed at his lip a little harder. "I guess that means I use those powers to like help you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Correct." 

The corners of Peter's mouth twitched. It was painfully obvious how he tried to suppress a wide smirk. "Can you imagine?" He turned to Ned. "May finding out I'm a superhero? She'd lose her mind."

"Er... Peter..." Ned's face was long and a little spooked.

"What?" Peter mumbled, the smile falling off his lips. He looked from one person to the next waiting for someone to offer up more information.

Tony's chest was tight but there was no way around it. This was his responsibility. He would have to be the one and he'd catch Peter once again when he would crumble under the news.

"Peter, I'm afraid your aunt and your uncle, they are no longer with us." Tony did his best to keep his voice clear, his tone sincere. He edged a little closer to Peter's bed then sat done at the foot end of it, ready to pull him close. "Ben died a little more than 2 years ago. May a year later."

"Oh." For a moment, Peter's face was blank, then he grimaced. "Damn, that's a little harsh, killing off the family to hang out with the freaking Avengers. Your brain's messed up, Parker," he mumbled under his breath. "I'm gonna have to bake them a cake."

"Pete..." Tony frowned and reached his hand out, not quite finding the confidence to take Peter's hand, he awkwardly squeezed the side of his bed instead. "I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, no, right..." Quickly, Peter nodded, his eyes on the hand Tony had edged towards him. "Me too. Me too. That's... that's not cool. I mean like... like bad."

Dread was crawling up Tony's spine. 

"So then," Peter cleared his throat. "I guess I'm not staying in the apartment anymore or did I..." He squinted at Natasha like she was the best source of good information. "Did I get a job?"

"No," Ned shook his head, a subtle sense of irritation swinging in his voice. "You live with Tony."

"With Tony?" Peter followed Ned's finger that was pointing straight at Tony's chest. "I'm living with Tony." His hand flew up to cover his mouth a little too late to cover the snort he hadn't been able to hold back. "Sorry, of course I do..." Peter mumbled through his hand as Ned turned around looking right at Tony, his face full of shock. 

All Tony could do was sit there. This was worse than he would have thought. This was a whole different level of denial.

"I'm sorry," Peter mumbled again then pointed at Ned, "you'll get such a kick out of this." The hand now rubbing across his face, he shook his head and mumbled, "God, I hope, I'll remember this when I wake up."

Tony's heart sank. It sank all the way to his stomach where it lay like a heavy undigestible piece of useless flesh. Which was worse, Peter's refusal to believe the painful truth or that the idea of him living with Tony was such a joke? A sense of bottomless sorrow washed over him unbroken as Natasha pulled him out of the room by his arm.

"He'll get there," she mumbled, squeezing both his shoulders. "It's a lot to take in all at once but there is no way around it."

"I... I don't know how to do this," Tony whispered.

"We're here with you." One of her hands forced his chin up, forced him to look at her through his tears. "We're right here with you. Every step of the way, okay?"

###

Of course, I couldn't resist making this a longer story, so there'll be a second chapter (probably) tomorrow ;)

[friendofspidermannedleeds]

Fictober Day 9

Prompt #9: “there’s no right side to this” Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Characters: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds Words: 719 Summary: Peter and Ned have to write a Civics paper on the Accords.  Author’s Note: I literally don’t know anything about the specifics of the Accords, so if anything here is inaccurate, I apologize and wholly confess to getting all of my information off online Marvel Wikis. 

No Right Side

“Hey, Ned—have you read up on the Accords for the Civics paper yet?”

They’re sprawled out in Ned’s room doing homework, Peter at the desk and Ned sitting cross-legged on his bed.

“Nah, not yet. Why?”

Peter doesn’t know where to start with this.

“It’s just, um—we’re supposed to pick a side and explain our reasoning, and I’m not sure how I feel about them.”

“About the Accords?”

“Yeah.”

Ned peeks over his laptop at Peter’s screen. “You’re reading them now?” Peter nods as Ned shrugs and goes back to typing. “I’m finishing this lab report first.”

“Okay,” Peter says, his stomach turning as he returns to the lengthy document they were assigned.

He can’t tell Ned why this is bothering him, but he needs to talk this out, because a few months ago, Peter was fighting on the side of the guys who believed in the Accords, and now—well now, he’s not so sure.

At the time, Mr. Stark had explained the basics. (Sort of.) He’d said Captain America wanted to perform his acts of superhero-ing unchecked, but that the Avengers needed to be held accountable for all the destruction they’d caused over the years, and Peter had agreed. (More or less.) And after the airport battle, when Peter had stopped to consider everything that went down, Captain America did seem a little shady, what with going off the grid and all—so Peter was fairly confident he’d made the right choice. (Maybe.)

Now he’s reading things that make his skin crawl.

Those with secret identities must reveal their legal names and true identities to the United Nations.

If all those people new Peter was Spider-Man, how would he protect May?

Those with innate powers must submit to a power analysis, which will categorize their threat level and determine potential health risks.

So, the world’s scariest, most invasive doctor’s appointment, basically.

Those with innate powers must also wear tracking bracelets at all times.

Like a prisoner on probation?

Peter squeezes his eyes shut.

“Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just thinking here, for…for the assignment—you know the basics of the Accords, right?”

Ned shrugs. “I mean, I guess. Avengers have to register and take orders from the government, right?”

“Right,” Peter says, “but it’s more complicated than that, I mean—regulations are good, right? So we don’t have a repeat of the Nigeria thing?”

“Yeah. Makes sense.”

“But, I just—it says here every person who has super powers has to be, like—registered, I guess, and tested so they know what their powers are like, and have their secret identities known.”

“Uh-huh,” Ned says, “so what’s your point?”

“I guess I’m just trying to see what side I’m on, you know—for my paper—and uh—what side would you be?”

He tries to keep the question casual, but his throat is so dry it feels like the last words are being choked out of him.

“I don’t know,” Ned says, “I’ll write my paper as pro, I guess. Seems like the Avengers would be even more awesome if they had help to be responsible.”

“Okay,” Peter nods, “okay yeah, but what about—like the enhanced people, right? I mean they’d be tested, and it’s like—like they’re experimented on, basically, which—don’t you think that’s kind of taking it too far? I mean they didn’t ask for powers.”

“They didn’t? Isn’t volunteering for the super-serum, like, Captain America’s whole thing?”

Peter can’t say anything to that, because if he opens his mouth, he might ask what Ned would say if he knew his best friend was enhanced—not by choice, but by a freak accident. So he swallows and opens a document to begin his paper.

Ned takes his computer off his lap and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Peter, you good? You look a little stressed.”

“I’m fine.” He quickly types the assignment header. “Just wasn’t sure which direction to go with this.”

“Okay,” Ned leans back again, “but dude, it’s only a Civics paper, they don’t care what you actually think. And besides, it seems like there’s no right side to this—don’t worry so much about it, just pick one—pro, or against.”

“Yeah. Okay.” 

But Peter would worry a lot less about choosing if he could rewind to a time before he already had.  

[cosmeticbreastsurgeon]

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[hale-13]

Shackled

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 7 Prompt - Collared

Peter Parker had been missing for one full week and Ned was losing his mind.

Words: 2502, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

TW: Angst

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Ned honey?” His mom said, knocking on the frame of his cracked open door and poking her head in. Her expression was as careful and neutral as it had been for the last week – ever since Peter had gone missing on his walk to school.

Ned had spent most of the morning between classes trying to text Peter (seriously – it was just super rude to not be in school and not tell your friends. Who did that?) before both he and MJ had been called to the office. Principal Morita was both gentle and firm as he questioned them about Peter’s possible whereabouts and ‘were they covering for him? No one was in trouble they just needed to know’. May hadn’t called Peter in sick and had no idea where he might be so, naturally, they assumed his best friends might have some clue. Ever since he had gotten his powers Peter had been pretty flaky but, so far, he had always at least sent some sort of message to someone if he had Spider Business.

May, more frantic now, had tried to alert the police but had been shot down since Peter had been missing less than twenty-four hours and was what they would classify as ‘troubled’ with his absence record and disciplinary record at school. Tony Stark, who had been May’s next call, had gone into full panic-helicopter-mentor mode and had hacked into cameras all over the city to try and find out what he could. Unfortunately, the footage seemed to have been wiped leaving them with no leads other than Peter’s discarded book bag and cellphone left in an alley not far from the school.

Finding this had finally spurred the police into motion and had prompted an Amber Alert and search parties made up of May’s co-workers and Peter’s friends. Tony was surveying things via the Iron Legion while he spent most of his time in his workshop in the Tower; using FRIDAY and probably lots of illegal methods to try and track Peter down.

Ned had been helping May and MJ just about everyday after school since to hang up flyers and ask around to see if anyone had seen Peter but, so far, no luck. His parents had been doing what they could to help as well but Ned knew they could see him cracking under the pressure and worry.

They had, in fact, pulled him into a conversation the night before to tell him they wanted him to talk to a therapist, that finding someone missing after the first fourth-eight hours was really hard and they wanted to do what they could to prepare him for all eventualities and that they would always be there for him no matter what.

Ned liked to think he was a pretty chill and easy-going guy for the most part so he won’t say that he’s proud of how he handled that conversation. At least his parents didn’t get too upset when he skipped school with MJ to keep looking that day.

“Hmm?” Ned asked, not bothering to look up from his computer where he was pretending to write his English essay but seeing his mom’s cautious expression in his peripheral vision anyway. He didn’t like that she looked at him like he was made of glass that might shatter at any given moment.

“Your father and I are going to go grab some dinner and maybe see a movie. Want to come with us?” She sounded so hopeful and a small, angry part of Ned hated how normal they were trying to make things. Didn’t they understand that his best friend since kindergarten, his only friend other than MJ, was missing and could be… could be…

“No thanks,” he said instead, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible and pretending not to see the hurt look on his mom’s face when he turned down her offer.

“Okay,” she said, her tone soft with just the barest edge of disapproval. He was just glad that she didn’t try to force him into going but he had a feeling that he was due for another ‘family chat’ soon. “Text me if you want us to bring you something back.”

“Thanks,” Ned mumbled, still not looking up even when his mom let out a sad sigh and left, pulling his door back closed. Ned sniffed and wiped his tired eyes, he had a headache that was brewing and he wanted nothing more than to sleep but he couldn’t. If it was him missing he knew that Peter wouldn’t take any breaks looking for him so Ned couldn’t either. They had to find him.

Hearing the front door shut, Ned closed out of his essay and pulled back up Karen’s systems, still on his computer from the last time he and Peter had hacked into the Spider Suit, and went over the data she had managed to extract from Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY without him knowing or, more likely, without him trying to stop them from taking the info for themselves. It was Tony Stark after all. The data itself was a disappointingly small amount and nothing that really helped point him in any kind of definitive direction. His phone buzzed against the desk, pulling Ned back.

From: MJ

Anything?

Ned rubbed his eyes again, little lights dancing over his vision at the pressure and typed out a quick ‘No’ in response before tossing his phone to the side. Something had to turn up eventually. He just knew it would.

As if summoned, taps sounded on his window and Ned froze, not daring to hope. He waited and the taps sounded again, more incessantly this time, and Ned jumped up from his desk – banging his knee in the process and nearly falling – but making it to the window to unlock it and throw it open. It couldn’t be…

After a week of being missing, Peter fell through to land roughly on the hard wood flooring of Ned’s room.

“Peter,” Ned said, breathless and voice full of emotion as tears pricked his eyes, reaching out a hand to help Peter up and then backing away when his friend flinched violently away from him.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his voice rough as he forced himself to his feet with a disingenuous smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

Ned narrowed his eyes in concern. Peter was pale, his face thinner than it had been the last time Ned had seen him. He was wearing dirty sweat pants and a shirt that may have been white in a previous lifetime but was now yellowed and dirty. His clothing was covered in rips and tears, bloody skin in various stages of healing peaking through and staining his clothes. His fingers were twitching in time with the tic in his left eyebrow and his eyes were shifting all over the place like he was looking for something.

Worst of all had to be the half broken metal collar with wires poking out around his neck and the clear electrical burns surrounding it.

“We need to call May,” Ned said, rushing to his phone. “We need to call Mr. Stark.”

“No!” Peter said, limping quickly across the room to block Ned from his phone. The hand that touched his was cold and clammy with sweat and Peter was quick to remove it once he realized he was touching Ned. “They can’t see me like this, especially May. You have to help me,” he pleaded.

“Peter,” Ned said sadly as he took in how broken and tired his friend looked. “You need to go to the hospital – I’m not a doctor! I can’t fix all of… this!” He exclaimed, gesturing to all of Peter with an exaggerated movement.

Peter flinched again and crossed his arms across his abdomen, hunching in on himself. “I know,” he said, voice rough and broken. “I know but I don’t want them to see… I don’t…” he made an abortive movement to gesture at the collar. “I almost got it off but I couldn’t… please help.”

“You promise to let me call May and Tony right after?” Ned asked, slowly reaching out to rest his hand on Peter’s shoulder. He wanted to pull him into a hug but he figured that wouldn’t go over too well just yet. Peter nodded hurriedly, some of the tension leaking out of him with Ned’s agreement, and he let himself sink ungracefully to the floor. “Why didn’t you just break it?”

“It uh,” Peter said, squeezing his eyes closed and wetting his lips. “It suppresses my powers.”

“Whoa,” Ned muttered, sitting next to Peter and surveying the collar more closely. Peter twitched his chin down and hunched his shoulders again and Ned just waited for him to relax enough for Ned to get a closer look. The collar was a thick and heavy dull metal and was seated tight enough around Peter’s throat to dig into his skin and chafe; Ned winced sympathetically. The red light on the front was blinking dimly, poking out from a thick black box that Peter had clearly torn into at some point. Peter was uncharacteristically quiet while Ned stared but every muscle in his body was tensed like he was ready to run if necessary. “Can I hug you?” Ned blurted out earnestly making Peter jump a little in surprise.

“I… um you… what?” He asked leaning back so he could look at Ned more fully.

“You look like you need a hug,” Ned told him, reaching his arms up but taking care not to touch Peter. “So can I hug you?”

The nod Peter gave him was wobbly and wooden but, the second Ned wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, Peter went limp, mashing his face into Ned’s shoulder before letting out a quiet and broken little sob. Peter’s own arms were shaking as they wrapped back around Ned, crying harder and wetting the front of Ned’s shirt with tears.

Ned could feel his heart breaking in his chest but that was overshadowed by a feeling of anger so strong that it nearly turned his vision red. Peter had been his best friend since they were kids. Peter had always been there for him no matter what. Whoever had dared to do this… well Ned didn’t pity what was going to happen to them. In lieu of letting out his frustrations, Ned just pulled Peter in tighter, shushing him and carefully patting his back.

“Sorry,” Peter whispered a few minutes later when he pulled back, using trembling hands to wipe his reddened eyes and chapped cheeks free of tears. “I didn’t mean to break down like that on you,” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Peter…” Ned wanted to tell Peter that he could always break down around Ned if he needed to. Peter was his brother in all but blood – Ned would always be there for him – but Peter shook his head violently to stop him, reaching up to let blood stained fingers brush the collar – his nails ragged and torn down to the quick.

“Please,” he begged, looking like he was barely keeping it together and Ned nodded.

“Okay Pete. I’ll look at it,” Ned reassured, moving his hands slowly up to touch the skin-warmed metal around his friend’s throat. “Does this have a tracker in it? A stun feature?” He tried to keep it professional but Peter still grimaced at the questions.

“I disabled the tracker and the electricity I think,” Peter said. “I just can’t see the mechanism to release it and I just… I need it off. I can’t…” his breathing sped up and Ned gripped his shoulder tightly in solidarity.

“It’ll be okay,” Ned said again, cautiously sorting through the loose wires to look into the black box just under Peter’s chin. “When you said this suppressed your powers did you mean all of them?”

Peter gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully against the metal as he gave a tiny nod. “All of them,” he confirmed.

“What about your hearing?” Ned pressed, pulling his hands back from the locking mechanism of the collar. Peter frowned at him before paling further at the realization.

“Oh,” he said, reaching both hands up to grip the collar. “My hearing…”

“If I take it off,” Ned cautioned, “and all your senses come back at once…”

“That would be bad,” Peter confirmed. “It would be very bad.”

“I know you don’t want me to,” Ned started, ignoring the way that Peter was shaking his head. “But I really think we should call May and Mr. Stark. They’re worried about you and Mr. Stark has that sensory deprivation room for your overloads.”

“I can’t do that to May,” Peter said firmly. “I already went and got myself kidnapped I can’t put her through this.” His voice was more steady than it had been since he had arrived and Ned felt like rolling his eyes at Peter’s typical self-flagellation.

“Happy then,” Ned suggested, desperate. Peter bit his lip, considering for a second, before nodding his consent prompting Ned to leap for his phone, dialing Happy before Peter could stop him.

“Look Leeds,” Happy grumbled into the phone, the background noise muffling his voice slightly. “I already told you – we’ll call when we know something so just-,”

“Peter’s here,” Ned blurted out, sitting back down next to his friend and pulling him into a half hug that Peter fell into willingly, curling up into Ned’s side. “He’s here. “Whoever had him put this… they… look he doesn’t want May to see him until he’s fixed up some so can you just come get us?” Ned asked following it up with a ‘Please’ as an afterthought.

“The kid’s with you?” Happy asked, sounding like he was running. “Put him on the phone.”

“He wants to talk to you,” Ned said, offering Peter the phone which he, reluctantly, took.

“Hey Happy,” Peter tried for chipper but fell spectacularly short and Ned winced a little. “I’m okay they just put… look I don’t want May to see me like… to see… can you just come get me please?” Peter sounded teary again and Ned plucked the phone from his hand to put back to his own ear.

“You’re coming right?”

“On my way,” Happy confirmed. “Give me eight minutes.” And with that he hung up the phone leaving Ned to drop it into his lap.

“I should probably text MJ,” he told Peter, not making any effort to move. “She’ll be pissed if she’s the last to know,” he joked and Peter snorted.

“Probably,” he agreed, letting his eyes slip closed and his breathing even out.

He needed to text MJ, call his mom and let her know Peter was back and that he was going to visit, pull Peter out into the living room to wait for Happy. But, Ned decided as Peter gripped Ned’s hoodie a little tighter, it could wait for just a few more minutes.