#this is my first fic crossposted to tumblr so please tell me if i'm doing it wrong

[blackwidownat2814]

Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 462

A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!

Prologue

You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.

You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.

It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.

“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”

“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”

“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.

“Talk to me B.”

“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”

“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”

“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”

“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”

“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”

“I’m callin’ with a job off-”

“I’ll take it.”

“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”

“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.

“It’s storm data analysis really.”

“Elaborate.”

“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”

“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”

“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”

You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.

“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.

With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly

[daengtokki]

ｌａｓｔ ｕｐｄａｔｅｄ： ｓｅｐｔ　１６， ２０２４

• most of my stories contain mature themes and explicit content... please do not interact with this list or any of my fics unless you are over the age of 18

• your likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated. if you like a story, please reblog anything you enjoy to help rotate my work on tumblr

• my work is only posted on Tumblr, save for a few pieces crossposted to ao3 (with a note containing this blog name)—if you see my stories posted anywhere else, please let me know

DEITY part four

serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader (10.6k word) part 4/?

DEITY part one

serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader (10k word) part 1/?

DEITY part two

serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader (12.7k word) part 2/?

DEITY part three

serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader (14.4k word) part 3/?

ｓｅｒｉｅｓ

second date

third date

 last date

part five

(blind date stories in (sort of) chronological order)

𓂅 August, 4am

𓂅 Phone sex

𓂅 Under the Tree ಇ

𓂅 Christmas Photos

𓂅  Warm

𓂅 Good Morning/Morning Sex

★ Blind Date Soft Kinks (requested by anon - wip)

→ Praise

→ I'll be sweet

→ Get on your knees pt 1 - pt 2

ｏｎｅｓｈｏｔｓ／ｒｅｑｕｅｓｔｓ

→ I know

→ hold

→ I'm not done with you yet

→ catch

→ first kiss

→ Seungmin wants your babies

→ How to Build a Snowpuppy

→ Seungmin takes you backstage

→ on vocal Minnie

→ Say it again...please

→ Wedding Night

３ｋ＋　ｗｏｒｄｓ

→ part two

→ part three (wip)

/ / /

part two

part three

/ / /

→ part two

→ part three

→ I'm sorry I wasn't here ⋆ part four (wip)

→ ˗ˏˋ unlucky (yandere!Seungmin/female reader 5.2k)

ｇｕｉｄｅｌｉｎｅｓ

• I write Seungmin

• I'm open to any type of request, but I'll let you know if it's out of my realm, or I'm not into it. I try to put all trigger warnings in my ratings, so watch for that (if I miss something, let me know)

• If I haven't replied to an anonymous request, I'm not ignoring you...I just haven't had time to fulfill it

[familyvideostevie]

hey.

okay. hello! i'm back. :)

maybe you noticed, maybe not, but i have been away for a while.

i wish i could say i've been out living my life, so caught up in happiness and joy and loving each day that i've just not had time for tumblr. but....that is not true. i have been having a tough time! being away has been good, as i've had time to do other things that i like and to put energy into my own well-being, but it hasn't been the best time, I'll tell you that.

i peeked on the dash every now and then to keep my queue full and reblogged soothing things to my main blog and tried my best not to feel guilty about it all (i was also booping on April 1 lol). i just...I really needed a break. i've really enjoyed being here the last six or so months as i've changed my blog and entered the pedro/tlou space but i've also felt so, so alone.

and i know that it doesn't really matter!! like, we should all take breaks and go outside and all that stuff. and I know plenty of people are not very active, but this blog has been such a vital part of my life and happiness since I started it almost two years ago, so any lapse in activity feels like a loss. I've met lifelong friends and flexed my writing muscles and learned a hell of a lot. the fact that I have started to feel isolated and alone on here is a sort of personal betrayal, and there is no one to blame but myself.

So, I’m pulling back.

it means a few things — i don’t know how much writing I’ll be doing from now on. For Joel, especially — it’s been wonderful to meet folks in that community but it has also been really detrimental to my passion for both the game and writing. I’d like to return to some other characters on my masterlist, but we’ll see. I’ve got endless personal projects away from tumblr that I want to pour love and time into (my non-reader fics, my newsletter, a romance novel, a sci-fi novel, poetry, etc). I need to fall in love with my own work again.

it's a me problem, I want to stress that. i'm working on it! irl stuff has been kicking my ass. I've had a really, really hard winter and my mental health has suffered probably more than ever before. i let things I love -- like this blog -- fester and become negative and no longer being me joy. writing became stressful and difficult and I was focused on notes and interaction and looking around me and seeing success and then looking at myself and only seeing lack.

but that's why I took a break! i am getting help and support irl, i am putting in the time and effort to feel better about being alive and to be a better friend and person all around. And I want to tell you all about it because I am so grateful for your time and attention and support, even if we’re just strangers on the internet. i know this probably seems silly -- who cares about a fanfic blog? well, i care! i care a lot! it matters to me and therefore it matters!

anyway. on to the important stuff. here I am! and here's what's going to happen on this blog:

I am working on replying to asks and reblogs and comments I missed. Thank you for being patient with me! I don't know if I'll get to them all but know I see them and I am honored every single time.

I made a totally separate ao3 account with this blog url. I'm working on uploading everything I've posted here onto there and hopefully will continue to crosspost. It is going to take a long, long time, so please be patient! (you can follow my other ao3 here for my non x-reader fanfic).

I posted this fic! Jackson!Joel pulled me back into his world. It’s the first thing I’ve written in ages, so let me know what you think. as of now it's the last planned fic for that series, but who knows!

I hit a milestone while i was away that I am absolutely blown away by. I'm planning a celebration around it sometime this spring (hopefully) and I’d love to see you participate :)

lastly, thank you so much to my friends for letting me complain, whine, winge, etc. I am so sorry for missing all of your work, your celebrations, your bright energies, and all the rest. i am so sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. you are my guiding lights, my silver linings, my touchstones. you make me want to be here. i will try to make it up to you!

I want to be online less but make sure I’m connecting more in the moments that i am here. I want to pressure myself to write less and not feel bad that I’m not engaged all the time. I want this blog to once again feel like a place that nourishes me and not sucks me dry. i want to stop feeling like shit about all of it!!!!

so. come hang out in my inbox, my dms, let me know what you've been up to. I am really sorry for missing so much. thank you for sticking around. <3

[aizawa-wears-crocs-old]

endgame fix-it because i am weak

Read it on AO3 here!

Peter has worn a variety of different suits in his time. He vaguely remembers being dressed up in a tiny suit for his aunt and uncle's wedding, years and years ago. He remembers, more recently, wearing Ben's old suit to homecoming; and, of course, there's the Spider-Man suit and its iron cousin.

This particular suit, though, all-black and stiffly uncomfortable, is the only one that's ever felt wrong to wear.

It's a stark reminder that something is missing, something he'll never get back. It doesn't feel real that he's standing here, watching Tony's wreath float away from them, knowing his mentor - his dad - is dead. They were supposed to have more time. Pepper and May and Happy are here, familiar faces, as well as the rest of the original Avengers, but Peter can see Tony's daughter from where he's standing. She's a visual reminder that it's been five years since Thanos killed half the world: five years since he died in Tony's arms.

It feels like five minutes since Tony died in Peter's.

A weird sense of numbness steals over him as he watches the wreath drift further and further away. The feeling of May's hand on his shoulder is fading, and it's like Peter is underwater. He can barely hear Pepper speaking about Tony, much less the eulogies that follow. His gaze is fixed; it's like his head is empty. Peter recognizes the feeling, that soul-stealing loneliness, from when Ben died. He should have realized it was inevitable he'd feel it again.

After the wreath finally disappears into the horizon, the mourners start returning inside. May gives his shoulder a squeeze before she heads in with them, telling Peter to stay if he needs to. When she leaves, he looks round to see the deck has almost emptied of people. He takes a step forward, to the edge, looking out towards the wreath that's still moving away from him. He wishes he could reach out and grab it, bring Tony back with the sheer force of his will. Instead, he sits down on the wood and dangles his feet over the edge. His dress shoes brush the top of the water, the toes likely getting wet. He couldn't care less. Right now, he doesn't particularly care about anything.

"Hey," comes a voice, and Peter looks up to see a curly-haired teen similar to his own age standing over him. "Can I sit?"

Peter nods, then realizes he probably needs to answer verbally. "Y-yeah. Sure."

"Thanks." The boy gets down beside him, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on top. "I'm Harley," he offers.

"I'm Peter," Peter answers. "It's, uh... nice to meet you."

Harley lets out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Could be under better circumstances, though."

Peter blinks, hating the heat that rises in his cheeks. He's too tired to cry, though, now. "Could be."

"He talked about you a lot," Harley says, and Peter turns to look at him.

"Huh?"

"Tony. Talked about you all the time. He really loved you, y'know? You could tell. He wouldn't shut up about you," Harley continues. "At least in the time before I got Snapped, anyway."

Peter's brow furrows slightly. "Oh. How did you, uh...?"

"Know him?" Harley completes. "Met him in Tennessee. Helped him with the -"

"- Mandarin," Peter finishes. "You're that Harley."

Harley looks slightly amused. "Yeah, clearly. I mean... how many Harleys do you think he knows?"

Peter huffs. "I don't know. It's been a long day."

That kills the humor, because Harley's smile fades. "Yeah. Yeah, it has."

"He talked about you, too," Peter offers. "When we were working in the lab, he kept saying what you guys got up to. He, uh... I think he was going to try getting us to meet, before... all this." Peter waves his hand vaguely in the air, trying to encompass everything that happened without having to actually acknowledge it. The Snap. The Vanished. Tony dying.

"I don't think so," Harley counters. "He told me if we ever met we'd probably blow ourselves up, so it was best to keep us at opposite ends of the States."

Peter laughs, despite himself. "Yeah, that sounds accurate too."

"We haven't exploded anythin', though, so..." Harley makes a pfft sound with the corner of his mouth, looking away. "Don't know what the fuss was about."

"We haven't exploded anything yet," Peter corrects. "Could still happen."

"Very true," Harley says, tilting a finger at him. "You want to try?"

Peter's about to reply when there's a scuffing noise behind him, and he twists to see Tony's daughter standing there, looking slightly like a rabbit in headlights. Morgan.

"Hi," she says quietly, waving faintly.

"Hey," Harley replies, and gives her a small smile. "You're Morgan, right?"

She nods.

"It's nice to meet you, Morgan. I'm Peter," Peter tells her.

"I know," Morgan says, slightly shyly. "Daddy talked about you all the time. And that's Harley," she adds, as if to prove her point, and Harley makes a choking noise and a muffled swear.

He stands, and Peter squints up at him, trying to ignore the bright sun above them. "I, uh... I'm goin' to head inside. Yeah." Harley claps his hands slightly, straightening up, and walks away. Peter can hear the slightly unsteady clip of his shoes on the deck.

Morgan comes up next to him, and Peter's suddenly hyper-aware of how small and close to the water she is. He throws out a hand on instinct as she wobbles before sitting down with a thump, legs swinging over the edge. She turns to beam at him, and it's like someone's hit Peter in the stomach. She looks exactly like Tony; her eyes are the exact same brown, her smile identical, though she's still so small. The air leaves Peter's lungs for a moment, and he struggles to breathe. He clenches his fists, looking out to the horizon past the water. He can't freak Morgan out.

"Did I make him sad?" comes a small voice, and Peter turns back to Morgan to see her looking up at him with worried eyes.

"No," Peter tells her, shaking his head. "No, he's just... he was sad already."

"Oh," Morgan says. "Is it because of Daddy?"

Peter swallows. "Yeah."

Morgan is silent, then, for several long moments. After a pause, she asks, "Are you Spider-Man?"

Peter nods, uncertain. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I am."

Morgan looks back out to the water pensively, like he's handed her another clue to some unknown equation. "Are you going to save my dad?"

Peter takes in a breath, because her tone is so full of hope that it feels like his heart's being crushed all over again. "No, I'm not," he says heavily, willing himself to not cry. Tony's daughter is four and she's holding it together; he can too.

Morgan frowns. "Why not?"

Peter blinks back the rising wetness in his eyes, and turns to face her. "I can't, Morgan. I'm... I'm so sorry."

"You can," she argues. "It's easy."

"Morgan, I -"

"You just have to follow the instructions," she carries on, and Peter freezes.

"What?"

She falters, looking confused.

"What instructions?" Peter asks.

Morgan blinks up at him. "Daddy left instructions for the time stuff. In case they had to do it without him. You can use them to save him."

Peter's heart thumps in his ears. "Where?"

She twists round, pointing a small finger back towards the house. "In there. In case the other place got broken."

"Can you show me?" Peter asks softly, hardly daring to raise his voice.

Morgan nods, and pushes herself to her feet. "This way!"

She grabs his hand, surprisingly strong, and Peter stumbles as she tugs and nearly sends him sprawling. Morgan leads him in and up the stairs, holding on to the kid-sized handrail lining the stairs as she goes up, and then she drags him left at the top. They come to a stop in front of a closed door, and she reaches up to push the doorhandle open. The door swings away, Morgan half-skipping inside, and suddenly Peter is staring into what looks almost exactly like his room in the Compound. It's even got the same decor, Star Wars posters littering the walls and small figurines dotted around on the desk. He freezes, aghast, heart aching, in the doorway. Morgan notices, because she slows down and comes back towards him.

"Daddy always said you were still in our family," she says, looking up with those hauntingly-familiar eyes, and Peter nearly starts crying on the spot. His eyes burn, and the world goes wavy through the tears in his eyes for a second.

"Really?" Peter whispers.

Morgan nods decisively. "Yep. Always."

"You know, you're... you're weirdly perceptive for a four-year-old," Peter says, slightly hoarsely.

Morgan nods. "Daddy said that, too." 

"Thanks, Morgan," Peter tells her. She gives him a wide smile in return, and snatches his hand again.

"C'mon!"

Morgan tugs him over to the corner, where there's a small, wooden box sitting on top of the end table. It's perfectly rectangular, with a small clasp at the front. Peter assumes it's to keep Morgan out, but the effectiveness of the clasp gets called into question as she starts balancing on her tiptoes to reach it. Her tongue sticks out of the corner of her mouth, and Peter knows he would find the sight hilarious if not for the scenario he's trapped in. Morgan bats at the box and it slides closer to the edge, where she grabs the clasp and flicks it upwards.

"Open it!" she tells him, turning and pointing at the box.

Peter steps over and opens the smooth lid gently. Light shines out from within as he does so, and then it's fully open and there's a flash drive plugged in to a metal rectangle in the middle of the box. A ring of light illuminates the bottom, red, seemingly emitted from the rows of red tubing arranged in rows around the drive.

"What is it?" Morgan asks.

Peter unplugs the drive, and brings it closer to show her. "It's a flash drive," he says. "And... weird stuff."

"Are you going to see what's on it?" she questions.

"Yeah, we are," comes a voice. Peter jerks and spins, nearly dropping the flash drive. Harley straightens from where he's been standing, leaning against the doorframe, watching them. "We're gonna get him back."

Peter takes a breath. "We don't know that." The hope trying to take root in his heart is painful, weighing heavy with the pain in his chest. He doesn't know if he can let himself believe Harley, if he turns out to be wrong. "How long have you been there?"

Harley shrugs, coming closer. "Yeah, we do," he says. "We go back in time like they all did before," he explains, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, "and this time we save him. And not long, but I overheard y'all earlier, by the way. I know it's about the time machine."

"We don't have any way of doing that," Peter argues.

"Build it!" Morgan pipes up, voice bright, and Harley raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, build it," he agrees. Peter opens his mouth to protest, but Harley holds up his hands. "We can, Peter. I build stuff all the time. I helped him fix his suit in Tennessee, you know that?"

"I helped him too," Peter mutters, childishly, and Harley makes a wild gesture with his hands.

"Exactly! We both know how to build shit."

Morgan looks up at Harley then, suddenly, and Peter makes a face at him. "Don't swear in front of her!" he whispers loudly, and Harley grins a little.

"We know whose daughter she is," he says. "She knows worse than that."

"Yeah," Morgan agrees happily.

Peter rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay. But, Harley, we're... we're still nowhere near as smart as he is." A bolt of ice shoots down his spine. "W-was. As he was," he corrects.

"You are!" Morgan protests, and tugs on Peter's sleeve. "You built your - pew-pewthings," she says, making twin thwip movements with her hands, snapping her fingers to her palms clumsily.

Harley's eyes narrow then, and Peter freezes. "Uh," he says eloquently.

"You're Spider-Man?" Harley asks, slightly breathless.

Peter rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up. "Yeah," he says, after a pause.

"That's perfect. We can definitely do this, Peter. And can't never could, y'know? We gotta try."

"Let's... let's look at the flash drive, first," Peter says. He still can't bring himself to let his hopes rise up. The likelihood is that this pipe dream of saving Tony is just that, and he's going to hurt even more if he lets himself believe it's not.

"Use that," Morgan says, pointing across the room to a StarkPad sitting on the wooden desk. Peter swallows.

Harley strides over and boots it up, holding out his hand for the drive as he sits. Peter hands it over, and the other boy plugs it in to the side of the computer. Peter leans over Harley's shoulder, Morgan on the other side of him, to see the screen as Harley opens the drive up. A folder opens, full of files.

"Aight," Harley murmurs, scrolling through them. "Let's see what we got."

The first few files Harley opens are schematics, blueprints and guides on how to operate and build the time travel machine. They're incredibly comprehensive, some pages littered with Tony's characteristic shorthand.

"This is it!" Harley says, sounding ecstatic. "Hell, this is everything we need. All we got to do now is -"

He clicks another file, and cuts off as a long text document opens up in front of them. Peter reads the title, and his spider-sense sparks dully in the back of his mind.

DANGERS

It's a terrifyingly long list, most items consisting of getting lost or being stuck between realities. Peter gets colder with every line he reads, and, from Harley's muffled swearing, he feels the same way.

This is a LAST RESORT, the document reads, underlined in bolded font. DO NOT use this equipment unless absolutely necessary.

"Hell," Harley mutters.

"What is it?" Morgan asks, voice small, though nobody answers her.

Peter keeps reading, eyes roving over the text. De-aging. Rupturing the continuum. Irreversibly altering space-time. The warnings continue on and on, finally ending with a short paragraph about how Tony has no way of listing the dangers comprehensively, so there could be thousands of even worse possibilities. Suddenly, Peter realizes why nobody except Morgan has suggested this before; they all know it's too dangerous a route to take. He doesn't doubt that the Avengers know of this box (otherwise, how would they have used it?) but the danger, for them, isn't worth it.

"Let's do it," Peter says suddenly, surprising himself.

Harley twists in his seat. "What?"

"Let's do it," he repeats. "This doesn't change anything. We knew it wasn't going to be easy, right? But - but it's worth it."

Slowly, Harley's face spreads into a grin. It's different from the previous one's Peter's seen, though; this one is warm, and genuine. "It really is," he says.

"So are you gonna save him now?" Morgan asks, voice small.

Peter smiles down at her. "Yeah, Mor. We are."

Continue reading on AO3 here!