#this was fun!!! and reminded me i need to make the whumptobers more separate this year sdhfkjdfhkd

[basicallyjaywalker]

20 Asks for Fic Writers

Hello!!! I was tagged by @cboffshore to do this fun little thing! Ty Lila!!

For my tag mmm @finn-m-corvex and @rainofthetwilight no pressure! Other fic writers feel free to join in too!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

2 official ones! Whumptober 2023 and Arms

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

36,850!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Ninjago. Only ninjago. I do have a few others out there but no one will find them

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I only have the two but it's:

Whumptober 2023: Ninjago Edition at 98 Kudos

Arms at 53 Kudos

5. do you respond to comments?

I don't but I need to, I cherish every comment and then get terrified of looking like a dweeb if i respond, but i kinda just need to get over that 😭

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm I'm gonna choose an individual whumptober entry for this because both end pretty nicely but Day 4's Shock ends on a horrifying cliffhanger!

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I would say Arms because you have 2 choices of ending, both being soft and sweet.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Not yet! Hopefully if I do it's warranted/constructive

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Nope!

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

For now I haven't, but I'm open to it! Craziest one I ever wrote was in middle school when me and a friend (now my partner) wrote a crossover of literally every fandom we were in. Ninjago was included bc I was spinning even then

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully, no. And consider this the first and only warning that if anyone does I'm paying a visit (for real, don't steal fic. writers work really hard on our stuff and it's just a dick move)

12. what's the longest time you've spent working on a fic? and the shortest?

Longest in general is Whumptober, taking an entire month!

Though if you count the individual entries as separate fics then Arms is the longest, and Day 21's Voice is the shortest, partially bc I was short on time and partially bc I hadn't seen Skybound in a while

13. have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope, but I'm open to it 👀

14. what's your all time favorite ship? from all the fandoms?

Awful question for a multishipper /j

Can I pick two? I'm gonna pick two

Canon is Pixane

Non-canon is probably Bruise

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I started to do the 12 Days of Ninjago for last year but ran out of time and have lost interest, though maybe the ideas will see the light of day as one-shots sometime!

16. what are your writing strengths?

I've been told I do dialogue well!

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Description that doesn't feel like I'm a five year old kid telling you the longest story of your life. I find it hard to transfer the image in my head to the page without taking actual hours. I actively study friend's writing to figure out how they do it and am trying to get better though!

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm definitely open, but I would wanna make sure I know the language. The best option I got right now is french

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Ninjago! First fandom, first fic, first ocs.... truly, a first in many aspects

20. favorite fic you've written?

Man I have to choose another entry for this from Whumptober. Even then it's still a huge tie, so top 3

Day 13's Bite made me cry while writing it (it's up there w/ Shock in terms of angsty endings)

Shock

Day 22's Hit and Run

[bytheangell]

An Impossible Choice

(Whumptober 2020 prompt: Pick Who Dies)  (Read on AO3)

“No,” Simon says, shaking his head. “I can’t… I won’t choose.” He’s shaking his head so hard that he’s giving himself a headache. Or maybe that’s because of the fear, or the tension that stiffens his entire body, or the blurred vision from the tears in his eyes he’s trying so desperately to hold back.

Jace and Raphael need him to be strong, they can’t see him cry. They can’t see him slowly unraveling when they need him the most. If it were one of them out here they’d know what to do… but he isn’t them, and no amount of D&D strategy can prepare him for a moment like this.

“Choose, Simon Lewis, or they both die.”

Simon stands on the opposite side of a piece of reinforced, bulletproof glass that separates him from the room where Jace and Raphael are being held prisoner. His boyfriends are both restrained, but still conscious, and able to hear everything that’s going on. They’re able to see Simon standing across from them with their fates in his hands.

“Take me instead,” Simon offers again. He’s lost track of how many times he made the offer of a trade, each time denied to him. “Please, I’ve got to be some sort of Shadow World collector’s item at this point - daylighter, used to have the Mark of Cain, been to Edom - I swear I’ll come willingly if you just let them go.”

Simon doesn’t even know who he’s bargaining with. There’s a man in the other room with Jace and Raphael but his voice and features are distorted, hidden by powerful magic. He could be anyone. Anything.

“Simon, no,” Jace pleads. “Just pick me. I’m a Shadowhunter, I was raised ready to die young. The two of you were always going to outlive me anyway… it makes sense.”

Simon’s stomach flips at the thought. He hates how sure Jace is, and even more, he hates the thought of their already-too-short time together being ended prematurely. They were supposed to have years together. Decades, not minutes.

“Don’t be foolish,” Raphael cuts in. “I’ve lived a lifetime already... and I never wanted immortality, not truly. Jace deserves to live out his life with his family.”

Simon is positive he’s going to be sick now. Jace’s family - Alec and Izzy and Max. Maryse and Robert. He can’t be the reason they all lose a loved one. But he can’t be the reason Raphael dies, either. Raphael has a family of his own, with Magnus and Lily and the clan he’d protect like one of his own flesh and blood. It’s no more or less important than any other family, or any other life.

Simon can’t do this.

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” Simon finally screams, losing all semblance of calm and control as the tears start to fall. His hands shake where they rest at his sides, balled up into fists that only partially hide the tremors.

“Because you hurt someone I love. You took her away from me, so it only seems fitting that you lose someone you love in return. Honestly, you should be thanking me. I could just kill both of them - I should kill them, considering how long you’re stalling. You’re lucky I like watching you squirm,” the person says. He sounds amused, like this is just a game to him. Maybe it is.

“Then why not just kill me as punishment?” Simon tries again. At least the momentary villain-monologue Simon prompted gave him something to work with - a motivation, which is more than he had a minute ago, even if he has no idea who this woman is he allegedly hurt. “If I did this, then make me pay for it, not them.”

“Because then it’s over,” the voice whines. “And that’s no fun. This way draws your punishment out for the rest of your life, however long that may be with the guilt you’ll have to live with.” Simon can’t see his face but he can hear the smile behind the words. “Trust me, I’ve had plenty of time to perfect my techniques.”

Another immortal? Simon doesn’t have time to piece together whatever clues might be given in the man’s words, he’s too blinded by panic.

“But I am getting bored. Choose, or I’ll choose for you.”

Simon glances down at the panel in front of him, at the button on the left and the button on the right, tactlessly labeled ‘kill’ above them. Looking up he stares at his boyfriends, at the two people he loves so much it physically hurts, meeting Jace’s eyes on the left first and then Raphael’s on the right.

“It’s okay, Simon,” Raphael says.

“Whatever happens, this isn’t your fault,” Jace adds.

It’s an impossible decision. There’s no right answer, not logically and not in his heart. As much as Simon is willing to die for them, they’re willing to die for each other… and no matter who he picks, he can’t imagine the other will stay with him after, a constant reminder of the decision he made and the love they both lost. It’ll break them.

It’ll certainly break Simon.

“I love you both so much,” Simon says. His eyes dart from Raphael to Jace, unable to rest on one for too long before moving back to the other, as if even looking at one of them more than the other might imply a preference that doesn’t exist. “I love you.”

Behind the glass Simon can hear Jace and Raphael reassuring him, repeating that they love him too, each insisting he should choose them, each promising that they understand. But how can they understand when they’re not the one forced to make that call?

“Can I go over and say goodbye?” Simon tries, though the man sees through his last-ditch attempt to stall and get some sort of upper hand and shakes his head.

“Tick tock, Simon.”

Simon tries to clear his head and weigh his options. Either way, he loses someone he loves. They both mean the world to him, and he can’t selfishly decide to save the one he loves most even if he wanted to, because he loves them both to such a degree that quantifiers cease to exist. And logically, no matter how many times Simon turns over the idea of Jace’s only lifetime weighed again Raphael, who already lived a lifetime but who could have the potential for infinitely more, he still finds no answer. He can’t value one life more than another no matter how long it may or may not be… and he’s seen enough immortals die to know that Raphael isn’t guaranteed any more years than any mortal.

Simon’s tempted to call the man’s bluff, but it’s too big of a risk. After all, why wouldn’t he kill both of them? Simon can’t imagine bringing both of their bodies back with him when he could’ve saved one...

He’s getting nowhere. He’s thinking in circles and it isn’t helping him get any closer to making a decision.

There’s no answer. There’s no way to choose, not if he follows his head, or his heart, or any other equally useless part of his being in this moment.

“Choose or you lose them both.”

“I can’t,” Simon cries, broken and desperate.

“Five… four… three-”

“I’m so sorry,” Simon chokes out, the words more sob than speech.

“Two…”

Simon takes an unnecessary deep breath and closes his eyes, his hands hovering over each of the buttons. He’s heard that flipping a coin is the best way to make a decision because while the coin is in the air you almost always find yourself hoping for one option over the other. Simon can only pray for that sort of clarity in this final second.

“One.”

[elizabeth-234]

The Hourglass

Previous Chapter Four: Running out of Time

Hi all. Hope you are enjoying. This covers day five of Whumptober: Rescue, On the Run, and Where do you think you're going?

Chapter Five: Honey Bear and Tony to the Rescue

Winter, 2017. Hours into Kidnapping.

He stumbled into a car waiting outside the door. Someone caught the top of his head from hitting the door frame and guided him into a seat. His head rolled back in exhaustion. The side of his neck, burnt and sore, was exposed to the warm air in the car. It prickled at the burns but Peter didn’t try to move away.

“Jesus, Tony. Why the hell do you have a kid with you? And what did you do to him? These are serious burns.”

“It’s a rescue! I couldn’t leave him there. Do you see how young he is?” 



Peter could feel the eyes resting on his frame. His eyes flickered to the seat in front of him where a man was observing him before falling to look out the window. Away from his cell and that place he was untethered. The tiny world he’d become used to, the one he expected to see every morning when he opened his arms, was gone. In place there were leather seats underneath him in an impossibly nice car. There were two men staring at him.

They talked between themselves. There was an insistent, familiar tone in their words that Peter hadn’t witnessed in a long time. They made no effort to calm their voices or lower them for his benefit and the anger underlying their greeting was eclipsed by warmth. It was almost pleasant to sit there and listen as they debated what to do next. If they weren’t trying to factor in his unexpected presence that is.

“Fine, Tone. We can’t sit here and argue the whole night. Let’s go.”

Someone in the front put the car in drive. Peter sat up. His muscles coiled tight. He reached for the door before fisting his hands and clenching them in his lap. His inaction had been too long.

“I need to go back.” He said, eyes darting between the men. Maybe he could persuade him but there was no leeway the face from the man in the cell so he turned to the new person. “Please, I shouldn’t be here. You can’t let this …. I’m being kidnapped… I… Ross!” He finally settled on the name that would stir fear into anyone. “Ross knows. He’ll find me.”

“Fuck him!” His kidnapper snapped and crossed his arms. The other man stared at him for a moment, his eyes softened for a moment before he turned to the cell man. Maybe he was imagining things now. They were conversing in that way old friends did. Their words flowed in silence, moving between their eyes. Every second it went on, the car got farther away. Peter couldn’t see the building anymore. He didn’t know where they were.

Finally, the connection broke. The man from the cell opened a compartment under the seat and pulled out a cell phone. He settled back into the seat and began typing not acknowledging Peter’s outburst.

The car sped away taking all semblance of time away. It spun out of control. He couldn’t tell if hours passed or seconds as the wheels spun. The man, his captor, exuded a willful ignorance. He didn’t care that he had kidnapped Peter; that Peter didn’t want to leave that place. It was only under the dim lights of the car the man began to relax. His tense form slumping against the seat until he was nearly as boneless as Peter. Who was he? Why did he get to relax when Peter was as tense as he’d ever been and no one was answering him?

A hand touched his knee and Peter flinched back. The new man rested his hand there and then pulled back once he saw Peter knew he wasn’t going to hurt him.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Look, please…”



“It will all be okay. Whatever it is you think you deserve, whatever happened, we can figure it out but I need to be sure.”


His wide eyes told no lies but they also held no room for argument. Their expression reminded him of May. The back of his throat closed at the thought. He licked his lips and looked away to hid his discomfort.

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

The man nodded and his eyes flickered over to the man on the cell phone who just continued typing.

“My name is James Rhodes but you can call me Rhodey.”

“Or Honey Bear if he’s angry.”  The other man side with a smirk. He winked at Peter paying no attention to the sigh coming from his friend and went back to his phone.

“Just wait until you see me angry.”

Despite everything Peter felt the beginnings of a smile on his face at their banter.

“This is Tony and you’ll have to forgive his egregious manners. I mean kidnapping? Really Tony?”

The man, Tony he reminded himself, huffed but didn’t look the least bit bothered. In fact, Peter was sure he was the beginning of something, pride maybe, at the thought of his new rap sheet. The two talked of plans and locations, all undecipherable to him. Still, he listened with rapt attention trying to find out any bit of information he could.

Peter felt the wheels turning underneath them and decided that time was slowing in this strange, little world they were in. The three of them in the back of some car. Two friends, one stranger. Two inmates, one free. Three people thrown together and he was the odd man out. To their credit he didn’t feel excluded. They sort of enveloped him. Their eyes flitted over to him to make sure he was listening. The conversation kept him from getting bogged down with thoughts on his mind and Peter found himself nodding to the occasional question.

He decided that this whole situation was like Schrodinger’s cat. He didn’t know where he was going or who they were and once they left the car anything could happen. He could assume the best and worst outcomes at the same time. Strange but it seemed either was possible. He deserved the worse and if it was better, he could go back to that place. His stomach dropped. Somehow the thought wasn’t as satisfying as he thought it would be.

The car entered an underground garage. They drove down and wove through various levels until, after presenting a badge to some tough looking security, they parked in a walled off section separate from the others. It was a bit anticlimactic to be honest. Peter expected a highspeed road chase when they escaped.

“Let’s go.” James Rhodes said.

Peter’s head pounded from earlier. It was difficult to keep track of what turns they made and the stairs they took. Some they walked up and others they went down. He managed to keep track of the two left turns and one flight of stairs up when they finally stopped at their final destination. Rhodes scanned something against the wall, though Peter could see no markings on the wall.

The room beyond the corridor was humble in space and as of the ‘90s it would have been considered in style. The base furniture all looked high end but there were touches of teenager spread throughout. Peter spied a fun phone in the corner in the shape of a faded burger and a deflated bundle of plastic shoved in the corner that in another life was a seat. Fake fruit was in three different bowls scattered around the room. The whole effect was of a room of two times. The air was stale but lacked that distance he normally read in new spaces. He circled the room noticing the picture frames, some featuring Tony and Rhodes. The cushions had divots in the middle with fabric frayed on the edges. Peter could see the scuff marks on the corners of the walls leading into an unlit hallway.

He liked it.

“Alright there, Peter?”

Tony was observing him from the counter in the kitchen. The man looked at home lounging against the island and why wouldn’t he be? Everything indicated he spent time here in the past. The air thickened with the question and the outside world pushed in. Time sped up, piled higher as it fell, as Peter thought of what was happening outside.

It was almost a foreign concept. In the past he had made the outside world distant by forgetting about it. The memories were too tempting so he forced himself to stop thinking of his life. Of his family. But in the process of shunning that part of himself, Peter ignored everyone else’s life as well. Maybe that was why he assumed Tony was no more than an apparition at first? Here in this room he couldn’t ignore the past. Peter ran his hand across a pillow on the couch trying to straighten its fabric.

The couch was the same color as the couch in his old apartment. It was a puke green that May loved so much. They spent weekends cuddled up on the couch watching TV together. He was sure after all this time there was popcorn and snacks forgotten in the cracks. It was the same couch he’d woken cold and numb pressed against on the floor. The same one with blood splatter ruining the color with dark red. He turned away and shrugged.

He wished he was back in his cell, forgotten and forgetting.

“You should take me back, Sir.” His back faced Tony so he missed the wince cross the man’s face.

“I can’t do that. No matter what you think it was wrong for you to be there.”

Peter shrugged again and the man sighed. He tried to hand Peter a glass but his hand was shaking too much to grab it.

“Alright, it’s been a long day. Let me show you to your room. Unless you’re hungry? No, I didn’t think so. Well, there’s food in the kitchen if you need anything.”

-

The air sparked with tension. Peter followed Tony down the hall and fought the urge to look into the rooms as they passed. One door was open and he saw Rhodes sitting at a desk behind a computer.

“Kid, needs to sleep. I’m giving him the blue room.”

“We’ll talk later. Sleep well, Peter.” The man responded with a smile. Peter nodded but kept his face blank.

The room was plain and simple. There was another picture frame on the tall dresser but he didn’t take the time to study it. He sat on the edge of the bed and focused on Tony who was lingering in the doorway. The man ran a hand through his hair and mumbled something before leaving. The bedding was a dark blue color. Worn and cool to his touch. His eyes landed on the balcony covered by drapes in his perusal of the room.

“Shouldn’t go out there tonight but in a couple days it should be safe enough.” Tony was back, carrying something in his hand. He hesitated but walked five steps over to him and sat on the end of the bed. Far enough that Peter could breathe evenly.

He carried various first aid bits and for a moment Peter was on the fire escape. May was about to take off his mask and disinfect his wounds.

“I am sorry about the burn.” Tony said as he brought out the supplies. “I needed to stop them from tracking you and there was no time. Still,” He said and reflexively winced as Peter did. “I’m sorry.”

Peter shrugged. His neck throbbed as the man began dabbing it. He hated to compare but Tony was almost more tender with May. At least in the beginning. When he first became Spiderman, she was frustrated he’d been hurt again or frantic and would try to do everything at once. It took time for her to accept his propensity for flying around the city in spandex and how that habit would get him hurt from time to time.

“Must not have been as deep as I thought, a lot of the tissue isn’t burned too badly.” 


Peter froze. He nodded and forced himself to breath out so Tony wouldn’t notice. That was another one of May and his rules: don’t tell anyone. Don’t let them know he was different. Ross knew but that was okay because by that point he deserved it. Tony didn’t and couldn’t know because something bad could happen. He shrugged again jarring the hand disinfecting the burn. He would hide his neck until it was feasible it was healed.

“That’s the best I can do for now. Here are some pain relievers and I’ll get you a glass of water. We’ll have to change the wrappings again. Burns can get infected easily.” 



He came back from the bathroom and Peter drank deeply. Exhaustion hit him. All of the events of the day came rushing back to him. He’d been kidnapped by this stranger in front of him and now he was offering to change Peter’s band aids like he wasn’t the one who gave him the wound. The anger was there, itching under his skin but not as much as he thought. Peter couldn’t summon the strength to do anything besides stare.

“If you need anything, I most likely won’t be sleeping so you can come get me and Rhodey. Anything you need… And, well, I’m not really sorry about the whole kidnapping thing but I’m here for what it’s worth.”

Peter stared at the man with a scrunched brow. Tony was almost blushing. He shrugged with a smile and closed the door behind him. Peter just continued to stare at the closed door. Maybe he would come back in, guns blazing, and demand action. Maybe he would act like a kidnapper would instead of like a concerned adult.

Peter got up and paced the room before shoving the curtains aside. He unlatched the door and tried to open it but it wouldn’t move. There was some type of invisible lock like the one to get into the apartment. He supposed he could break it open but something stopped him. A twinge resounded at the thought of running the room. He didn’t want glass to spread onto the floor or get on the bedspread. It had to be the fatigue, there was no other reason.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He said to the empty room.

Peter fell back onto the bed, his back sinking into the mattress.

Time slowed again. What should do was go through all of his options. If he could sift through his next steps, tomorrow would be easier to handle. But his neck burned and his body was heavy on the bed. In these strangers’ apartment staled by time but full of home, Peter fell asleep thinking of the Sunday mornings spent on the couch May swore was olive green.

Thank you!

Next Chapter Six: Dreams

[elizabeth-234]

Whumptober 2019

Day Seventeen: “Stay with Me” 

Hi Sweet Friends! First, I hope everyone had a fun and safe Halloween! Thank you for sticking with all these different stories! I have a few more planned so watch out for those in the coming weeks. Thank you again for all the support. Here is day Seventeen!

Day Eighteen: Muffled Scream

Summary: Penny and May fight and Penny ends up going to the first place she thinks of.

Penny shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto the wall where her backpack was already hanging. The lab was devoid of people so she invaded the center and began getting out the notes her and Mr. Stark were working on over the past month.

Her hands shook as she tried to organize the papers. Mr. Stark was sure to keep the lab at a temperature she could handle, the cold affecting her more after the spider bite, and Penny realized that it was from anger. The words May threw at her echoed through her mind and louder still were the angry words she yelled back.

Today was the climax of months of calm requests and anxious gazes. The pleading in her aunt’s eyes transformed them into exasperated yelling when Penny came back with more bruises from patrol. How could May ask her to do that? It wasn’t like Spidergirl was a separate person from her. It wasn’t like she could turn it off at the flip of a hat.

Spidergirl was as much a part of Penny, as Penny was Spidergirl. They were both integral parts of her, literally seared into her blood. The spider bite changed her very chemical makeup and May expected her to stop being Spidergirl? It was asking her to stop liking science classes, to stop watching The Good Place, or to stop being friends with Ned. It didn’t work that way.

Penny tried to explain that to May. Well, yelled it at her and like every typical teenager she stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her. As Penny snuck out of her window she gleefully thought that it would show her aunt the error of her ways. Sitting alone in the lab on a day she wasn’t supposed to work with Mr. Stark, Penny felt stupid and every bit her young age. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and the papers lay forgotten. Why did she yell at her at aunt like that? There had only been worry in her eyes but Penny snapped. 


“Penny?” She whirled around to see a blurry-eyed Mr. Stark in pajamas standing in the doorway. A blush came over her cheeks at the realization that Friday probably woke him when she came into the lab. She sniffed and hoped he couldn’t see the baby tears forming.

“Hi, Mr. Stark. Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s no problem, Penny. What are you doing here at,” he checked his watch. “Three in the morning?”

Guilt flooded her further. She hadn’t noticed how late it was, but now that he mentioned it the fatigue creeping into her limbs was all the more noticeable. Penny stood up and began stacking all the papers up.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark. I wasn’t thinking and needed a space to think and this was the first place I thought of.” 


She looked up when no response came. His eyes were narrowed and she could feel their piercing gaze but it wasn’t hard. There was a softness there she would catch a glimpse of when she spoke up without hesitation or that one time after she thought he’d been hurt and she went up and hugged him. She remembered the burn across her cheeks when he stiffened but then his arms warmed her in an embrace. They pulled away from each other and his eyes had that same softness they had now.

“I’m glad you think of this place as your home.”

It wasn’t exactly what Penny said but as soon as the words left his mouth she knew it was what she meant. The tower had become a safe haven for her. It was somewhere she went when school was rotten or patrol went badly.

There was the kitchen her and Mr. Stark celebrated her birthday in. They tried to make a cake there but flour ended up decorating the floors and cupboards. Her bedroom sat down the hallway upstairs and her favorite books were stacked messily under the window. Friday would tease her about how they should be arranged alphabetically to stick with a library status quo, but she thought it looked instagram worthy with all its organized chaos.

The best aspect of coming to the tower was all the time spent with Mr. Stark and Pepper. She looked forward to seeing them and hearing about their lives. Their banter reminded her of how Ben and May used to talk to each other. The first time they all had dinner together it left her heart aching. She had to slip away to the bathroom and cried. Pepper knocked on the door and asked if she could enter in a way that left no room for a no. Quietly she slipped in and sat next to Penny on the floor.  The woman didn’t ask what was wrong or give her advice. Instead she sat there and wrapper her arm around Penny’s shoulder.

It was more than comforting and Penny found herself leaning into the warmth. They stayed like that, silent except for the occasional comment, until Mr. Stark found them with freshly baked cookies. They all sat around the bathroom, she wondered how sanitary it was, and ate the dessert while laughing at a story Pepper told. It was wonderful and the beginning of something. The next month Mr. Stark gave her her own room in the Tower and it was her home away from home ever since.

“Yeah it is.”

Everything was put away and she walked over to grab her coat off the hanger. She headed toward the door, trying to slip past Mr. Stark.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s late, Mr. Stark.”

“Yes, I’m the one the informed you.” He said poking her in the shoulder.

“And that’s why I need to get home.”

“That’s exactly why you should stay here with me.” He looked at her skeptical expression. “Come onnnn. It will be fun.”

He looked so expectant and eager, like a puppy waiting for its meal.

“It’s three in the morning. I don’t know how much fun that will be.” She said. There was no way she wanted to go home at the moment and the thought of her aunt’s disappointed face was something she did not need to see right now. A quiet part of the back of her mind told her she would be impeding on Mr. Stark’s hospitality. That she shouldn’t use him because she messed up but she quickly shushed the cruel words. Mr. Stark wouldn’t offer if he didn’t mean it.

“You’ll see.” He said with wagging eyebrows.

They made their way upstairs and Mr. Stark set about making pancakes. He put on music and she watched from her perch at the island counter as he tooled about with practiced ease. For all the claims that he didn’t know how to cook he looked comfortable in the kitchen. Her stomach growled at the golden stack on her plate. Penny loaded hers with syrup and Mr. Stark stuck with classic plain.

It was quiet and Penny’s mind began worrying again. Her mood sunk as she tried to think of what she would say when she saw May again. He bumped shoulders with her and a shaky smile swept across her face.

“Talk to me, Penny.“ He said.

It was something he said a lot. When she first started the internship and spending more time with him the statement filled her with anxiety. Why would Tony Stark want to hear anything she had to say? What could she even think that sounded smart? Of course when he uttered those words every reasonable thought flew out of her mind and she was left speechless. But through their relationship Penny began to appreciate it. The words were directed enough that Penny knew he wanted her to talk about but general that she could ignore the request and speak about whatever was on her mind.

Sometimes she would go off on a tangent about her favorite book character or how no one noticed how badDippin’ Dots was. He would take them in stride, knowing she wasn’t ready to talk about the more serious topics, and not press her. Other times it allowed Penny to express her fears and worries. One time she confessed a crush or a failed test, and Mr. Stark always did his best to offer support.

Today she didn’t want to talk about her and May. This was partly because there was a small part of her worried that he would agree with her aunt. What if he thought it was too dangerous being Spidergirl and that it would be best if she hung up the cape, so to speak? She looked into his brown eyes and her throat closed up. No, he could never think that. Mr. Stark was her number one fan or so he liked to remind her all the time. With some caution she relayed the fight to Mr. Stark, trying to remain as fair in her retelling. With some blushing she told him how rude she was with her aunt and tried not to notice the small look of disappointment he had with the words.

“I just don’t know why this came up all the sudden. I’ve been really careful lately even when it’s a pain. I’m trying so hard Mr. Stark and I don’t know if she can see it.” She was starting to tear up and looked down at her empty plate. His hand landed on her shoulder and she leaned into him.

“May knows, Penny. We all do and I think that’s where her worry comes from. I think May wants you to live a normal life. You know, have sleepovers, build Lego ships with Ned, and ask Liz to the homecoming.”

“Mr. Stark!” She cried blushing at his words but he kept talking.

“That’s what I want for you. Don’t get me wrong, Spidergirl is the shit but I also don’t want you to miss out on anything. I want you to live for yourself and sometimes I worry you can’t do that if you’re living for the whole of New York.”

His hand swept back and forth on her shoulder while she thought. The weight calmed her racing heart. She replied slow and thinking through each word before she said it.

“I get that Mr. Stark but I can’t stop. Even if I could I wouldn’t want to. I feel alive when I help someone across the street or someone gives me churros. I love looking after my city.”

He sighed and kissed her head.

“I know you do, Penny. Don’t worry about May. She’ll come around. I would bake her those chocolate brownies she loves though. Desserts always help as a forgive me gift. At least that’s what Pepper always says. ”

They smiled at each other and Penny yawned.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He said and placed the dishes in the sink. Mr. Stark walked them to her bedroom and after some fussing made sure she was all tucked in. It was sweet the way he worried about whether she would be cold or not. As always, he reassured her that Friday was there if she needed anything and that him and Pepper were down the hall.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” She said and smiled when he brushed her unruly hair back from her face.

“I love you, Penny.”

She yawned again and returned the sentiment, smiling at how those words brought warmth to her chest. He turned the lights off and Penny’s eyes drifted closed, ready to fall asleep and dream.

-

Tony closed the door, careful to make sure there wasn’t a noise, and made his way back to the living room. He wasn’t quiet ready to sleep for the night and wanted to get some work done before he did. He grabbed his phone and sat on the couch, staring at the dark screen. Tony sighed and sent a text off to May. He told her what happened and that Penny was safe and staying the night.

In all honesty he could understand where May was coming from. He watched as there were increasingly dark circles under the kid’s eyes and how, busy with school, she had no time to relax. Lately, he got into the habit of reminding Penny to eat. At first she tried to pretend like she didn’t know what he was talking about but after a few attempts she caved. It helped when she found out he could actually cook something edible. The plus was that it helped him remember when he was supposed to eat because he was worried about her.

Worried was a word he would never describe himself before but it was now officially added into his repertoire. He worried about her eating, her patrols, and always her safety. But there were also smaller, less significant things he would find himself thinking about. Would she ace the social studies exam the following week? Was she going to ask Liz to the homecoming and would the other girl say yes? All these thoughts started so slow he didn’t have time to stop them. They were errant and brief when they first met but slowly they became more prevalent. He wouldn’t stop them if he could.

Tony could also understood Penny’s thoughts on the matter. He knew how important all of this was to her. He could see the way her eyes would glow when she came back from a patrol or how her legs would always catch her when she jumped. He knew all to well how that part of your life became so important to you. How what people thought of as a separate person fused into you and was a part of yourself.

So Tony decided to do nothing. May would understand with time and he would do everything he could to keep Penny safe. May called him back. She said that she understood and that she overreacted when the girl came home from patrol. There was a desperate regret in her tone and she apologized over and over to him and Penny. He did his best to calm her and listen, and in the end she thanked him. He knew that her and Penny would be fine. That May was just working and he let his thoughts drift to work.

After working he stumbled into bed and kissed Pepper on the shoulder before burrowing under the covers.

Tony thought about all the new improvements he could update Penny’s suit with and how Karen could become smarter. He thought it was crazy but he actually considered making some new rules for the kid. Maybe a curfew or something like that. He shivered at his adultness for a moment. May was her mom and responsible for her but there was nothing he wouldn’t do to help share that responsibility. It was an honor to be able to and not the burden he assumed it would be.

He smiled and reminded Friday to send him the recipe for those brownies May liked.

Thank you!!

Day Twenty-Five: Humiliation 

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