#to be fair peter didn’t know if miles was a boy or a girl for the first few days of training either

[milimeters-morales]

i think the funniest thing about the acau is that miles and peter don’t know things basic things about each other despite how long they’ve been around each other and interacted, and how much deep personal shit they know. They don’t know each other’s last names, and excuse that with “it never came up” & “why does that matter”. They don’t know each other’s birthday. They didn’t exchange numbers until two years of knowing each other, and only when forced. Peter still doesn’t know Miles’s true eye color, and up until the end of year 1, Miles wasn’t sure if Peter was a man or a woman.

[ushis-gushy]

PT 2 of Hear me out

If you don’t know what’s going on, go to my page and find part one! (If you want. I’m pretty sure you can get context here either way 😅)

Main points you need to know to read:

Miles has a crush on Hobie and pavitr

Gayatri and pavitr has an open relationship

Hobie and Pavitr are together

Miles is very oblivious

Theres going to be a lot of misspelt words and bad grammar in here (I’m sorry)

Let’s get started:

the spider gang + Gayatri started walking to the fair after Miles had gotten a phone call from Ganke inviting them. It wasn’t too far away. Miles was in front leading the group using the gps app to help sometime. Gwen and Gayatri were in the middle of the group talking. (fun fact: Gwen was talking to Gayatri about how stupid the boys were. Like Miles was for not noticing that both Hobie and Pavitr liked him and the same thing back to the pair of boys)

In the back of the group, Hobie and Pavitr were talking about plans to woo Mile’s heart. (Pav: oooo why don’t we draw? Hobie: we both know we can’t draw Pav: *sad pupppy Hobie: *sigh, let’s think of another plan before that twat nicks Peter Pan) When the group reached the fair they decide to split up. The girls went straight towards the rigged carnival games. Gwen said that she could always beat the system no matter what. The girls left, leaving the boys to themselves. Pavitr waved bye to his girlfriend when she left and jumped on Miles back when he couldn’t see her. Pavitr asked, “Sooooo, what do you want to do?” Miles perked up, “Well, there is the art wall I really want to go to, but there’s a small concert thing with my friends from Vision.” Hobie spoke up leaning on Pavitr who was still on Miles’s back, “When you mean friends do you mean Gan-“ Before he could finish his sentence, the small group heard someone call Miles’s over. They turned their head over to see Ganke and the rest of Miles’s friends. Mile’s eyes widened before leaving Pavitr and Hobie. Hobie saving Pavitr from falling from loosing the weight he was leaning against. ”GANKE! What’s up!” Miles gave Ganke a hug and Ganke gestured to the boys, Hobie and Pavitr (who were looking at him in jealousy), and quietly asked Miles if those are the guys Miles has been gushing about. Miles blushed (to Hobie and Pavitr’s dismay) and nodded.

Ganke smirked and answered Mile’s question, well we were heading over to the wall and then we’re going to the concert’s venue. Wanna tag along?” Miles looked back the Hobie and Pavitr, and they gave him a thumbs up. Miles brightened up and smiled turning back to Ganke he said, “Yeah! Sure let’s go!” The bigger group walked over the the wall and grabbed some spay cans and markers. Miles walked over to a conveniently big white space on the wall and started drawing sunflowers. Miles was so into his art he didn’t notice the others were getting ready to go to the concert. Ganke came up to him, stopping Hobie or Pavitr from doing so, “Miles, we’re heading out.” ”Oh! I’m sorry, but I really need to finish this!” ”We can stay back so you can finish!” Pavitr exclaimed but Miles shook his head, “No! It’ll take too long. You should go to the concert. I think you’d really like it. Hobie would too. I’ll meet up with you later.” After a long time convincing, Hobie and Pavitr walked away with the group to the concert. TIME SKIP

After the concert, everyone was having a fun time. But, Hobie and Pavitr were worried. Well Pavitr was. Hobie trusted Miles. Anyways, Miles didn’t join them at all. In fact the pair never saw him after they left him at the art wall. They ran towards the wall looking for Miles. They saw the finished art work but no Miles. They panicked a bit before they heard a familiar voice. They followed it to see Miles and some guy next to him. He looked kinda cute but not their type. The guy and Miles looked like they were having a fun conversation. Normal right? Well, they observed the random guy and his flushed cheeks while talking to miles. He rubbed the back of his head and took out his phone. Miles was oblivious to the guy’s feelings smiled his stupidly cute smile (Hobie and Pav’s words) and pulled out his phone. They exchanged numbers.

Miles had gotten his phone back from Nate (yes that is the guy’s name) when he was done putting his number in. They were talking for a bit before he felt weight on his shoulders.

Hobie draped his arm over Mile’s shoulder and said, “Hey Peter Pan! I see you finished your art.” Miles diverted his attention to Hobie. Leaning back and resting his head on Hobie’s arm(body?). He closed his eyes and hummed as to say yes to Hobie. Hobie and Pavitr glared at the guy who was sweating buckets already at the sight of this punk and pretty boy. He excused himself and ran.

Hobie (omg it autocorrected to hippie 2 times in a row) asked, “So who was that?” Miles looked up and said, “Oh! That was Nate. Sweet guy. Liked my art and it turned out we had a lot in common. Got his number.”

Hobie hummed, “I see…”

Miles took note of his crushes behavior. Before he could say anything about it, Hobie shoved his face into Mile’s neck. Miles blushed from the contact. He could feel the other man’s breath. Then Pavitr appeared in front of Mile’s face and said, “Let’s get out of here!” Miles then asked, “But what about Gwen and Gayatri?” “Pfffft” Pavitr snorted Hobie just muttered loud enough for Miles to hear, “Love, they left us already. Havin’ a sleepover” Pavitr took Mile’s hand and dragged him. “Come on!” Pavitr carried Miles as he swinged away and Hobie following behind. During the whole way over, Hobie and Pavitr were telepathically thinking the same thing (boyfriend perks ig). Confess to Miles

The group entered Mile’s home through the front door, catching his mom and dad as they were going out. His parents already met Hobie and Pavitr before so they weren’t that surprised to see them. His mom coughed, “Well boys, we’re heading out to a dinner date. Don’t get into too much trouble and DONT destroy anything.” The guys smiled as they entered the house and went straight to his room. It was full of his friend’s clothes, items, etc etc. the group just chilled out. Miles drawing Hobie and Pavitr. Hobie talking to Pavitr about his plan. Both nodding to each other before Pavitr called out to Miles. He snapped his head up to see his crushes. Pavitr pulled him over with Miles just thinking: wow he’s so strong wth? Pavitr said with excitement, “Hobes is gonna give us a private show come on and put down your sketchbook for once!” Miles smiled and he made himself comfortable of Pavitr’s lap. He listened to the spider punk as he strummed his guitar. He closed his eyes enjoying this private time with the two men. Then he begun to hear a slow song. He opened his eyes back up again. Hobie never really did slow songs unless we pester him about it for weeks on end. Miles, although confused, continued to lay of Pavitr’s lap and listened to Hobie’s song. “But I can’t help,” Pavitr joined in, “falling in love with~” Miles felt arms around his waist, it was Pavitr and they made eye contact as he and Hobie sang the last word, “you.” His eyes widened and looked from Pavitr and Hobie who were looking at Miles as if he was everything, the light in their life, their hopes and dreams. Miles blushed from the sudden attention, “G-guys! What?” Hobie put down his guitar and inched closer to Miles and pulled him into his arms. He said , “Peter Pa-, no. Miles. We really like you so much it’s mental!” Pavitr budded in while hugging the two, “We’ve liked you for awhile. It’s totally fine if you don-“ He didn’t get to finish the sentence as he was met with a kiss from Mikes. Miles broke it and gave a kiss to Hobie as well. He then looked away with his face red. “I like you guys too.” Miles then realized something and whipped around to face them saying, “Wait Pavitr! What about Gayatri? Omg did I just ruin your relationship. Is so sorry!”

They smiled and threw Miles onto the bed before they came up and went on the sides of him. Cuddling the small man in the middle. Pavitr held Mile’s waist and said, “don’t worry about it. We’re in an open relationship. We’re still dating but we can date other people. Gayatri started taking interest in some people but not enough to date them.”

They just lied there, enjoying the silence and the presence of the others. After awhile, Pavitr perked up and asked Miles for his phone. Before Miles could even give him it, Pavitr snatched it from his hand and deleted something, “Welp you don’t need that anymore!” ”Huh? What did you do?” Hobie buried himself into Mile’s neck and said, “Love, do you really think we’d let anyone else have you other than us? Pav deleted that bloke Nate’s number. He should delete that twat Ganke’s too.” ”W-WHAT! No no no no no! Why? He doesn’t like me that way.” ”You told him you loved him.” Pav said with an imaginary rain cloud over him as he pouted ”In like a platonic way! He called me mom and i sarcastically said I love him!” Silence before Miles bursted out laughing. “I can’t believe you thought I liked Ganke! You’re so jealous.” Pavitr and Hobie just looked at each other before they smothered Miles with love and kisses.

“That we are”

fin :)

(maybe there’ll be more idk let me know)

[thompsborn]

This might be a spoilery ask that you don't wanna answer (in which case, fair enough) but do you have any idea how soon we'll be getting a tbaf!harry spider-man reveal?! I remember reading in one of your end notes on that series that it's gunna be angsty when he finds out because like the whole rest of the group already know or whatever, so I'm really looking forward to more updates over on that series haha

Obviously I'm loving the promises of hb content, but I was just hoping that tbaf wouldn't be put too far on the back burner lmao

omg do i need to start a spoiler tag for tbaf because like… i have tbaf planned out WAY more than i have hb and can give WAY MORE vague spoilers for it pfgjf. i literally have a note in my phone that has up to the 22nd fic in the series planned out….. that is not an exaggeration. literally at all. and it’s not the ending either because i STILL haven’t been able to decide when or how i want to end it pfkfj

but !! omg okay tbaf spoiler tag now being used and tha answer to ur question UNDER THE CUT!!!

so, short answer:

16. the 16th fic in the series. that is when i have it planned for. if that’s all you wanna know, stop reading.

if you’d like some vague hints about how, read on.

so the most recent installment was part 12. it was the senior field trip to stark industries and also miles first date. very light hearted and cute and fun i literally only added it because i wanted to there is essentially no plot significance included.

but there is something. vaguely.

“I just think that it’s bullshit,” Harry tells them, the weekend before the field trip.

Flash frowns at him. “Why?”

Harry glares at Flash like the answer is obvious. “Because it sounds fun, and where will I be, huh? Sitting through another eight hours of forced training with my stupid fucking father for a company I want nothing to do with. It’s bullshit.”

“Don’t go to the training,” Michelle says, popping a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

Harry snorts. “It’s not that simple.”

Michelle looks at him, quirks a brow and asks, “Did you sign a contract that requires you to go through all of this training?”

“No…?”

“Well,” she says, “I don’t see the problem, then. I mean, you turned eighteen in November. You’re not contractually obligated to be there. He can’t make you stay if you don’t want to.”

For a moment, Harry considers her words, something sour on his features yet something contemplative in his eyes. Flash speaks up then, pointing out, “You left that New Years Eve Gala, remember? He didn’t even notice you left until the next day.”

“This is different,” Harry argues, before puffing out a sigh and sinking back into the couch cushion, looking down at where he’s gripping onto Flash’s hand. “I’ll think about it, though.”

norman has not shown up in tbaf yet. he’s been mentioned, for sure, but he hasn’t actually shown his face yet. that is going to change.

like. next installment. Norman Osborn (derogatory)

i’ll leave that there, but i do want to assure this:

while harry finding out is going to be angsty, it’s not going to be like any of the movies where harry gets angry and resentful and becomes a villain himself. i understand why that happens but this is fanfiction and harry osborn is my baby boy baby. he is going to be confused and traumatized but peter is his bestie.

also tbaf harley keener would not stand by and let peter lose a friend because of spider-man are u kidding?? even if i did put in harry getting angry harley would drag him by his ear to a locked conference room in the tower and lecture him for exactly 7 hours and 41 minutes until harry got his shit together.

so rest assured, the found family friend group, while they will have struggles (some with each other, most without), will stay a found family.

xoxo gossip girl

[sacredsorceress]

Paint || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: peter sees a figure walking through the trees during his run and investigates only to meet a girl named y/n painting in the woods.

a/n: requested by anon! a short and sweet meeting story.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none, fluff

masterlist || request

Peter was almost regretting his decision to join the Avengers at the moment. Nearly getting himself killed dozens of times by adversaries was nothing compared to the run Cap had him and the other Avengers going on in what he considered to be the middle of nowhere. Although he had superhuman abilities that had definitely aided in his run at the beginning, he could feel himself struggling for air and his legs beginning to ache.

A few of the others had already fallen behind a while back and Peter felt himself about to trip over his own feet as he began to run slower.

“Getting tired?” None other than Steve himself asked, running up behind him.

Peter jumped, but then began to push himself to run faster. “N-no. No sir.” Peter huffed. “This... is... easy.”

Cap eyed Peter. “You should take a breather, kid. There’s no harm in that.”

Although Peter was always one to go out of his way to impress the Avengers- especially Captain America- he could barely breathe and his whole body felt like it was just begging for him to take a break.

“A- are you... sure?” Peter asked in between breaths.

“You know your way back?” Steve asked, matching Peter’s pace.

Peter, running out of breath, no longer able to speak just nodded.

“Alright kid. I’ll see you back at the Compound.”

And with that, he picked up his pace, leaving Peter behind. Peter slowed to a stop and doubled over with his hands on his knees, heaving and struggling for breath. He attempted to salute in Cap’s direction, but he had already run past Peter’s point of view.

Still breathing heavy and exhausted, Peter stumbled over to the side of the road and flopped down on his back onto the grass. He turned his head to the side and as he did he saw a figure making their way through the trees.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “H- hey!” He called, but no one answered.

Peter pulled himself up, balancing himself on his elbows to get a better look before calling again. “Hello?”

After he once again did not receive an answer, he pulled himself onto his feet. He questioned whether he really did see someone or if the figure was just a figment of his imagination. He was unable to ask any of the others for reassurance since they either fell behind a while ago or they were ahead with Steve. Deciding to trust this own instincts, Peter began walking through the woods, using his “Peter tingle” as Aunt May liked to call it, to know where to go.

He stopped when he heard the snap of a twig and the rustling of leaves. Following the noise, he carefully walked over the branches scattered across the ground, not trying to alarm whoever he had just followed into the woods. As he approached where the noise had come from, he stopped and attempted to hide himself behind a tree.

In front of him he saw a girl pulling a chair up and off from the top of a table, onto the ground. He watched as she sat down in the chair, opening the bag at her side and pulling out a pad of paper, along with a tray of what he assumed to be paint and brushes. 

He knew he probably should have turned around and that this was an invasion of privacy, but he couldn’t help but watch as she painted. He was lured in by how peaceful she seemed. Around them was a peaceful quiet, with only the sounds of birds and the breeze flowing through the trees able to be heard. 

It was so much different than what he had been used to. Even before he discovered that he had superpowers, he had lived in the city and there seemed to never be a moment of complete silence- from sirens at all hours of the day to groups of people chatting outside his window at all hours of the night. He thought he had found peace in the noise, but he had barely known the peacefulness of quiet.

Now that he was Spider-Man, it was even harder to find peace whether he was in the city protecting locals or tagging along with the Avengers to save humanity. He was so busy all of the time, it was difficult for him to find peace and quiet, never mind the serenity he felt around him in this exact moment.

Just as he was becoming lost in his own thoughts, he was pulled out of them by the snapping of a twig beneath his feet. As he did, his eyes went wide and he watched as the unnamed girl, jumped from her seat to her feet, scattering brushes and papers along the ground.

He threw his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry!” He spoke.

“Who are you?” She asked. “Did you... did you follow me?”

He could tell her heart rate was speeding up, worried that some random boy had followed her into the woods. That’s fair, he thought.

“No!” He said, quickly. “I mean yeah- yes. But not in a creepy way! I just saw someone walk into the woods and I called and no one said anything so I- I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay.”

She just stared at him.

“You know what? I should go. Yeah. I’m gonna leave you alone.” He said, about to turn around.

“Wait.” She called, finally speaking up and stopping him. “Are you... an Avenger?” 

Now his heart was the one racing. “What? No!” He chuckled nervously. “Why... what would make you think that?”

She smiled, pointing at his t-shirt. “Because you have their logo on your shirt and it’s the only place out here for like a mile.”

Peter glanced down at the gray t-shirt he was wearing with the Avengers logo printed across his chest. Quickly, he attempted to spin a lie. “Oh this? No. Nope.” He shook his head. “I just... work... at the Avengers Compound. I... hand out waters and stuff to um Thor and ya know... other... people.”

There was a pause as the they stared at each other.

“I’m Y/n.” You told him, moving your hand out to shake his.

He calmed down as you introduced yourself and your own heart settled, knowing now that you weren’t scared of him- meaning you either believed what he said or just simply accepted his lie about working at the Avengers Compound. It wasn’t a whole lie, he told himself though. He did “work” there and occasionally, as the youngest person there, was asked to fetch water from time to time.

“Peter.” He said, taking your hand. “So... what are you doing out here?”

You then remembered what you had come out here for in the first place. You spun around turning back to look at your set up. “Oh!” You exclaimed. “I come out here sometimes to paint. It's really peaceful, you know?”

Peter nodded. He had just been thinking the same thing before he first saw you. It had been difficult for him to know peace for a long time, but here he felt as though he could breath even if it was for a short time.

“I know what you mean.” He told you, then glancing at the mess he had caused when he first spooked you. “Let me help.” He smiled, gesturing to the paint brushes and loose papers scattered along the floor.

You turned around, looking at the mess behind you. “You don’t have to. It’s okay!” You told him, striding over to your workspace and beginning to haphazardly organize the area.

Despite your assurances that you could clean up yourself, Peter followed behind you and began picking up your scattered paintings on the ground.

“You did all of these yourself?” He asked.

You watched as Peter stared at each of your quick paintings in his hand. He, admittedly, did not understand much about art, but he was in awe at the work he saw in front of him. The paintings he held in his hands depicted what he believed to be fairies sitting light as a feather on flowers and hidden in the trees. The design itself was soft and gentle and he was afraid to ruin something so precious in his hands. 

“Yeah,” You chuckled.

“They’re really good.” He told you, impressed. “I wish I could do stuff like this. How do you even do this?”

You smiled. A part of you was always nervous showing your paintings to someone else, especially a stranger, but it made you feel warm inside to have this cute, sweaty boy complimenting you on your art and impressed with your skill.

“Everyone has their thing.” You told him. “What about you?”

Peter then thought about his abilities, but for obvious reasons he couldn’t divulge on his strengths without the risk of exposing his identity. Although he couldn’t share that part of himself with you- someone he just met- it made him remember who he was without his abilities- the skills and talents he possessed without the assistance of an accidental spider bite.

“My friend and I build lego sets.” He shrugged.

“That can’t be it.” You laughed. “Come on! What are things you’re good at?”

Peter hadn’t been asked that question in regards to just himself in a while. He felt that people only cared about him recently because he was Spider-Man, not because he was Peter Parker. It felt good for someone to care about him for more than the things he couldn’t control.

“Sciency stuff I guess.” He told you as the two of you stood up and he handed you back your paintings.

You smiled, accepting the pages back and placing them on the table. “See! And you thought you weren’t good at anything.”

Peter smiled before scratching the back of his neck. “So... do you always hang out here in your free time?”

You sat back in your chair, this time organizing your desk space again. You placed your current work-in-progress in front of you and set out your paints. Taking a brush from one of those scattered across the table and dipping it in your desired color you laughed. “Not all the time. Why do you ask?”

Peter felt himself stiffen up. He knew why, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. It wasn’t often he met new people and felt comfortable enough around them, but around you, there was a carefree air. Although he had barely learnt anything about you besides your name and your inclination for painting in the wilderness, he wanted to learn more about you.

“Oh... well... you know...” He began. “Maybe we could hang out sometime? Not in the woods I mean. Not that there’s anything wrong with it! I just- you know-”

At that he heard the strokes of your brush halt on the page as you lifted it and set it down in the glass of water in front of you. You turned back in your chair to look at him, leaning your arm over the back of it. “Like a date?” You asked, cutting him off.

Even though Peter had been through a lot that most teenagers his age had never experienced- that some would even claim required an excessive amount of bravery- he still got flustered when you asked him whether it was a date or not. He thought you were interesting and wanted to get to know you regardless. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in going on a date with you, but he also didn’t want to risk facing rejection and embarrassment.

What do you have to lose? He asked himself.

“I’m sorry if that was forward-” You began as he took a bit longer than you had anticipated for him to answer.

“Yeah. Like a date.” He cut you off. “If you want to anyway... you don’t have to.”

For what felt like the hundredth time since you first met him a few minutes ago, you smiled. “I’d like that.”

And with that you and Peter exchanged numbers before he insisted you go back to painting and that people would begin looking for him soon if he didn’t get back to his run. When his feet hit the road to start running again, he felt a new bolt of energy and pride rush through him as he thought about the cool painter girl’s number he had just gotten in the woods and the date he would share with you that upcoming weekend.

[shyficwriter]

Sick

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu & Kraglin)

Summary: You are quite sick, and unfortunately for everyone else, you won't stay in bed. Might have something to do with being delirious with fever, or maybe you're just a terrible patient. Who's to say?

Authors note: Content warning for hallucinated gore (I think? maybe horror is a better description? Let me know), and mentions of blood, and of course mentions of all the nastiness that comes with a stomach sickness (Don't worry, I kept it clean, didn't want to gross myself out lol) The characters are safe, story has a happy ending.

Word Count: 7,120

Damn, you felt like shit.

It was the first morning in forever where you could remember not actually wanting to get out of bed. Everything was sore, and damn it was just so cold. Why was it cold? Peter usually kept the ship decently warm?

You sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing momentarily when the room began to spin and your stomach tightened in nausea. Damn. That mission the other day must have taken more out of you than you thought. You didn't think you'd still be this sore and tired two days later. This was worse than yesterday, and you weren't exactly expecting the nausea, but at least it had passed.

Oh well. Nothing you can really do about it. Besides, you had more pressing matters, like figuring out why it was so damn cold. You were shaking and had to fight your teeth from chattering. Better put on a sweater.

After washing up and getting ready you headed out of your room to ask Peter why it was so cold, maybe check on the boiler yourself if he hadn't. You found him with Gamora and Kraglin on the flight deck discussing the best course to Berhert, where you guys were planning to dock for a few days and maybe chase down a few leads for new jobs.

"Why is it so freaking cold in here?" you ask. "Did the boiler break down or something?"

They turned to look at you and it was then you realized they were in their regular clothes, not even wearing jackets to keep them warm. Peter was even wearing short sleeves. "I feel fine?" he said, looking to Gamora. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, adding that if anything, she thought Peter kept it a little too warm on the ship.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how they could possibly be warm when you were freezing. You shook your head gently. "Guess it's just me then," you grumble.

"You ok? Ya look a little pale there?" Kraglin asked after noticing you were at least a shade or two lighter than normal and how the skin around your eyes wasn't normally that dark.

"I'm fine, Kraglin," you say, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole despite being cranky that you were so cold and achy.

Peter looked at you suspiciously a moment before saying, "Hey, come here a sec."

"Why?" you ask, just as suspiciously.

"Just come here."

You roll your eyes as you approach. "Fine." Once you stopped a few feet from him you asked, "What?"

He raised his hand out toward your forehead, and in your surprise you leaned away quick, instantly regretting it as the room began to spin again.

You gathered yourself somewhat quickly and noticed his hand coming back. You smacked it away. "What are you doing??" you asked through squinty eyes.

"I'm trying to feel your temperature, dummy. Quit moving!" he responded, irritated when you dodged him once again.

"What am I? A child? I don't need you to feel my temperature, mom." you sassed, taking a few steps backward out of the way. "I'm fine." you say irritably.

"Well you like shit."

You almost laughed in surprise at his bluntness as you leaned back with a mildly offended expression. "Well fuck you too, dickweed. You aren't exactly a looker yourself." You didn't really think he was ugly, you were just being mean, but it made Kraglin laugh anyway.

Peter shot him a look before turning back to you and saying, "I didn't mean it like that. I just think you should probably go back to bed if you aren't feeling well."

"First off, I have shit to do, I'm not going back to bed. Secondly, I never said I wasn't feeling well, I just said I was cold," you say bitterly, hugging your arms close to your chest as another chill hit you.

"Then why are you sweating?" Peter asked.

You looked at him a moment, confused, before bringing your own hand up to your forehead. Sure enough, you were starting to sweat a little around your hairline. You wiped your hand on your sweater as you gave him a bitter look before turning and walking away.

"Go back to bed!" Peter called after you.

You flipped him the bird, not turning around as you continued out of the room. "You don't tell me what to do. You ain't my mother."

Peter narrowed his eyes as you walked away. "Yeah... well... Good!"

Gamora rolled her eyes at both yours and Peter's immaturity and returned the conversation to the navigation.

***

You made you way down to the kitchen, thinking maybe you'd make some toast. Your stomach felt a bit crampy now, and you thought toast might be light enough to soothe it before you got started on your chores. Maybe some milk. Milk was nice and gentle, right?

Rocket and Groot were already in the kitchen eating some cereal when you got there. You nodded toward them in greeting as you put down some bread in the toaster. You pulled down a glass and went to open the fridge to pour yourself some milk while you waited when Rocket spoke up.

"Oh hey, we're out of milk, if that's what you're after."

You sighed. "Juice will have to do then," you say, grabbing the bottle and pouring yourself a glass of the light green liquid. You leaned against the counter and sipped at it as Rocket made conversation.

"You said you're going to blow out the dryer line today, right?"

"Yeah."

"About how long are you gonna be? I need to wash a load and I was hoping to get it started before I got to work fixing Groot's game-thing so it might be done by the time I finished."

"Shouldn't be too long. Should only take abo-"

Just then the toaster popped, making you jump a mile, and Rocket and Groot laugh at your reaction.

"Oh man, I don't get why you Terrans are so scared of that! Haha!"

You only glare at him before removing your toast and turning your attention to buttering it rather than engage about how you were definitely not scared of a toaster like you would have any other time. You just didn't feel like it today.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, you ok? Normally you yell back when I tease you about the toaster. You sick or something?"

You were finished buttering your toast so you turned to give him an unimpressed look. "What? If I don't yell at you, you think I must be sick?"

Rocket shrugged, "I mean, yeah?" He collected his and Groot's now empty bowls and hopped over to put them in the sink. "You've always yelled something back, what else I'm I supposed to think?" He turned back towards you and looked you over. "And are you supposed to look that... dead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You supposed to be that bald?"

"What? I'm literally covered in fur." Rocket said, looking at you like he thought you were stupid.

"You won't be if I shave you, you little shit."

"I am Groot."

"I'm not sure if cranky's the word I'd use right now, buddy." Rocket said, throwing you a sideways glance. "Come on, let's go see if Drax wants to play cards or something." With that the pair left the room, leaving you alone to nibble at your toast and sip at your juice in peace.

It didn't exactly help the cramping in your stomach though, you realized as you placed your glass in the sink. You took a deep breath as another chill hit you and you rested over the sink a bit to get your bearings, taking a few more deep breaths hoping it would ease the cramping in your stomach.

Once you felt steady enough you left the kitchen, intent to get started on today's tasks, first being the dryer line, then changing the various air filters about the ship. You'd probably also get around to checking all the smoke detectors before lunch, but for now you just needed to get down to the laundry room to get started.

God, it was so cold.

You made your way down the hall from the kitchen and turned off towards the laundry room when you were startled by Yondu. He had been coming up the other hallway in the direction you were now headed and decided to greet you with a clap on the back and a loud, "Hey, squirt! What'cha doing?"

He always called you squirt, pipsqueak, munchkin, just because he knew it annoyed you to be called childish nicknames. To be fair, he did still call Peter, a fully grown man, 'boy,' as well as also sometimes calling him 'squirt,' and Gamora 'girl,' so at least you knew it wasn't personal.

The startle, as well as the impact of his hand meeting your shoulder sent you forward. You grabbed hold of the wall and tried to steady yourself as the hall spun around you.

"Whoa, ya alright there?" Yondu asked, not expecting to have thrown you so off balance.

You look up at him weakly and nod, breathing deeply through your nose as you held a hand to your stomach, still bent over slightly from where you had caught yourself. You thought you were going to be sick, but you were doing your damnedest to keep it together. "Yeah." you swallowed, trying to fight the slight tremors beginning to shake you. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ya don't look it. I think you need to take your ass back to bed."

You glare at him. "I'm fine. I just need a sec." As if your body were trying to betray you, another chill shot through your spine, making you shake as a strong cramp made you fold into yourself with a, "Ow, fuck!"

Shit. You knew what was coming and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You quickly turned away from Yondu and vomited on the floor with such force that it felt like something had ripped your stomach open and you fought not to whimper at the pain. You heard him make a disgusted noise, and you didn't blame him.

Teeth chattering and dizzy, you looked at the mess and said, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I'll clean that up." Your vision swam as you shook, one hand gripping at the wall, the other still wrapped about your middle.

Before Yondu could think to respond you had dropped to your knees, thankfully missing the puddle of sick on the floor, and vomited again.

You couldn't stop shaking, and resigned into leaning into the wall, eyes closed as you turned your forehead to rest against the cold metal. Your breath came in shudders as you heard Yondu cry out, "Shit! Quill!" He sounded urgent, but you didn't have time to think about that, you were too busy shaking and trying not to vomit again.

You thought you heard Rocket's voice from up the hall say, "See! I knew you were sick!" and you briefly opened your eyes to look up and make out the little blurry figure approaching before closing them again, weakly throwing him the bird as you focused on keeping it together, both arms now clutching your stomach as you grimaced in pain. It would be over soon. You just needed to gather yourself so you could clean up the mess you made and then you could get on with your day. God your stomach hurt...

You heard Yondu call out for Peter a second time, more urgently than the first and adding, "Kraglin! Somebody! Get down here!" when you lost your battle against your stomach and vomited for a third time. This time Rocket's cries for Peter joined him. You wondered why they were freaking out and calling for Peter when you felt Yondu grab your shoulders to stop you from falling forwards, causing your eyes to pop open allowing you to see your puddle of sick was now red, though you couldn't remember eating anything red... Was the juice you drank red? No, it was green... "Well that's not ideal..." you slurred out, realizing that it probably definitely shouldn't be red, but couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly why you knew it shouldn't be.

The last thing you heard was the sounds of boots thundering down the hallway, getting closer as they mingled with the noises of Yondu and Rocket's shouting before everything went dark.

***

You woke up in your bed laying on top of your sheets. You still didn't feel great, your stomach still felt crampy and also now burned a bit, but it was better than the sharp pain of before and at least you didn't really feel nauseous anymore.

It was still really cold though. You sat up and your head swam. You looked down to see you were still in your sweater and contemplated putting another one on before deciding against it. You were going to be up moving around doing your chores in a second, you'd likely warm up then.

You gingerly pulled yourself out of bed, thinking you might go get some water first, when you looked over at your nightstand for the time and found that someone had already left you a glass. How kind. You sipped at the water and silently grumbled when you realized you had been asleep for nearly two hours.

Wait... why were you in bed again? You sort of remembered getting sick. Peter probably made you lay down a bit. He was a mother hen like that.

No matter, you were up now. Time to get to work.

You left your room and had made it about 20 feet before Gamora spotted you and ordered you back to bed. You made out her two stern faces staring at you... wait two? You thought she only had one of those?

"Why?" you ask, wondering if Peter's mother-hening had rubbed off on her. Way you saw it, you only threw up, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Because you're sick, that's why!" Gamora replied, sounding exasperated.

"I'm fine." you assured, making a face a her. "You worry too much, chicken. The sky's still there." Hmm... you might have gotten that phrase wrong, or did you? You couldn't quite remember. Oh well.

"Bed. Now." she ordered. You blinked and suddenly she once again only had one face. One very cross looking face. Oh well. You still knew better than to argue with her, regardless of how many faces she chose to wear today, so begrudgingly you turned around and went back to your room with a dramatic sigh.

When enough time passed that you were certain she'd be gone, you attempted your escape again. This time you got about halfway to the laundry when you spotted little Groot in the hallway. He looked at you contemplatively and said, "I am Groot?" which you took to mean he was probably asking if you were supposed to be up and out of bed. Leave it to Peter to tell the whole damn ship.

You gave the little guy your best smile and made a shushing gesture with your finger to your lips. "Our secret, right buddy?"

He smiled and ran off.

Taking that as an agreement to silence you went on your way only to not make it much further before hearing someone tell you to "Stop right there!" You turned to find Gamora and Peter looking very disapproving while Rocket stood there looking smug with little Groot sat on his shoulder. Knowing you were defeated, your shoulders fell as you said, "I know, I know. 'Back to bed.'" As you made your way past them you looked down at the little twig and muttered, "Traitor." only to be met with him sticking his little tongue out at you playfully.

Your third attempt was much the same, only this time it was Mantis who caught you and she wasn't quiet about it at all when she went running off yelling to Yondu that you were out of bed again, much to your chagrin as it prompted him to come out of a nearby room. He didn't even have to say anything. He just stared you down, and you held up your hands in defeat and said "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" before scurrying the best you could back to your room.

You didn't even get out of your room on your fourth attempt, having opened the door to find Drax had been walking by at just that moment. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at you with arms crossed, daring you to try it. You looked at him awkwardly a moment before sighing and just closing the door. Maybe you'd take a nap and wait them out. You were a little sleepy...

On your fifth attempt you got nearly to the doors of the laundry when you heard someone shout, "Where do you think you're going?! Get back to bed!"

You turned around irritably to see it was Peter and Kraglin now, looking fairly cross. Seriously!? Why can't they just let you be!

You crossed your arms. "I have to blow out the dryer line, asshat. Where are you going?" you sassed.

Kraglin leaned to Peter and muttered something you couldn't quite make out. Something about the flight hangar? Oh well, probably wasn't important.

Peter looked at you like you were a misbehaving child. "I'm going to take you back to bed, that where I'm going."

You rolled your eyes and waved him off this time, turning your back on him to continue on your quest.

"Hey!" he scolded, effortlessly catching up with you and grabbing your arm to stop you. "I'm not kidding, you need to go back to bed." He put a hand to your forehead, this time succeeding since he had you by the arm and you couldn't get away. "You're burning up. Come on, back to bed." he repeated.

"Screw off." you say weakly, the sudden motion of being grabbed making you dizzy.

"See this is what I mean. You need to rest." Peter's tone was slightly more gentle now, but it didn't make you any less cranky. "Do you really think you're gonna puke blood and then just be allowed to walk about like everything's fine? You're crazy. You need to stay in bed until a doctor can see you!"

Huh. So that hadn't been a dream... Maybe it was the fever talking, but you didn't really care too much. You didn't want or need to see a doctor. You tried to reason with him.

"If I don't blow the lint out of the line it could catch fire. You want that, Star-Brat?" Ok, so you were still a bit cranky, probably could have said that nicer. Oh well. You tried to pry his hand away but failed, sighing in frustration.

"Already did it." Kraglin lied, throwing a hinting look to Peter.

Taking the cue Peter nodded. "Uh- Yeah, he got it done while you were sleeping.'"

"See?" Kraglin said, "Now you got nothing to worry about and you can just get some rest."

You jerked your arm and this time succeeded in freeing yourself, but not without feeling faint. "Nice try." you say, stumbling back a little. "There's still other stuff I needed to get done."

Peter grabbed your arm again, afraid you might fall backward if he didn't, and this time wasted no time marching you in the direction of your room. "And it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now you rest. This is the last time we're gonna tell you."

You looked at him confused. Last time? Had there been others? Oh right... you thought remembered him and Gamora yelling at you once before... oh and Yondu... you had forgotten Yondu. Bunch of mother hens...

Too weak to free yourself again you settled for complaining that you were fine, and for Peter to just let you go about your business. It all went on deaf ears.

On the way back to your room the three of you passed by Yondu, who laughed and said, "Told ya the squirt would try and escape again, didn't I? Just as stubborn as the two of you boys."

Peter chuckled, looking to the blue man and saying, "Remember that time we had to literally tie Kraglin to the bed when he caught the Kree flu and wouldn't stay in the Med Bay?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu laughed, looking at you. "Now there's an idea!"

You shot him a look. "If you tie me down I swear I'll gut all of you," you say crankily.

"Stay in bed then and we won't have a problem," Yondu grinned, adding, "Don't make us have to knock you out."

You glared at him again but finally allowed Peter to lead you back to your room with minimal grumbling.

Once in your room he threw back your covers and ordered you to get into bed or else he and Kraglin would tie you to it. Afraid they might actually follow through with the threat, you obeyed, grumbling about how they were treating you like a child.

"Quit acting like one and we won't have to," Kraglin quipped, pointing to the water glass on your table and stating how you needed to keep your fluids up and that it better be gone by the time one of them came back to check on you.

You just turned on your side away from them and grumbled out a sleepy, "Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone."

Satisfied that you'd finally stay put the two men left the room. Once Peter closed the door behind them Kraglin said, "I guess I better actually go clean that dryer line now, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

***

Peter met up with Gamora on the flight deck. "How soon until the Doc can get here?"

As soon as he, Gamora, and Kraglin had all ran down from the flight deck to see what Yondu and Rocket were yelling about and found you passed out in Yondu's arms in front of a puddle of your own all-too-bloody sick they immediately sent Kraglin back up to call one of Berhert's doctors to try and get one to meet them at the ship, knowing they were still about three days out from even thinking about landing.

"Still about a day out," Gamora answered.

"I'm getting nervous," Peter admitted since it was just he and Gamora alone now. He told her how you were you were practically burning to the touch when he was dragging you back to your room for the final time, and even though you put on a good act with the banter, you couldn't hide from him the fact that you couldn't stop shivering or the way you looked like death warmed over.

He also told her what Kraglin had said, how they thought the fever was getting to you. When they found you last you were making your way towards the flight hangar, but you thought you were headed towards the laundry. They were on opposite ends of the ship.

Gamora validated his concerns, taking his hand to comfort him before saying, "Don't worry, the doctor will get here in time."

Peter sighed and nodded.

If- No. When you got better, Peter was going to kick your ass for making him worry.

***

You woke up again a few hours later feeling thirsty and achy. You looked over to see you still had about a sip of water left and drank it. Placing the glass back on the nightstand you stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing you also needed to pee. Ugh. Inconvenient. If you couldn't work or do anything else you'd at least rather be sleeping. Actually, now that you thought about it, right now you didn't even want to work anymore. You just wanted sleep.

You knew surely you wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed for getting up to use the toilet, so you sat up with the intent to roll out of bed and walk across the hall to do your business. Maybe you'd get some more water on the way as well.

No sooner had you sat up did you see it in the corner. Your stomach flipped and you rubbed your eyes, but it was still there. With horror in your eyes and your urge to use the toilet completely forgotten, you stared at the horrifying sight, unable to make a sound.

In the corner of the room was a humanoid figure, looking like it had been skinned alive. It was eyeless, only dark oozing holes remained where its eyes should have been, same with its nose. It was twitching grotesquely, blood and yellow ooze sloughing off its body as it did so, puddling about the floor at its feet. It tilted its head at you with a wicked toothy grin of sharp yellow teeth.

You pressed yourself against the headboard, shaking like mad, only a tiny squeak able to leave your throat. Sweat tickled down your forehead but you didn't dare move to wipe it away.

You sat like this for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a few moments before you heard the door to your room open and heard Yondu's voice.

"Me and Rat just came to make sure ya didn't run away again." He chuckled, before noticing the state of you and his tone changed. "What's the matter?"

You didn't look at him, didn't say anything, not wanting to take your eyes off the monster or do anything that might spur it into motion, and pointed a trembling hand at it.

Yondu looked where you were pointing. There was nothing there.

He looked down at a confused Rocket and just muttered, "Shit," realizing that you were likely hallucinating from the fever. He spoke to you softly, easing himself into the room so as to not make any sudden movements, "Listen here now, there's nothing there. It's alright."

You swallowed hearing his words. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. It couldn't hurt you. It couldn't-

It took a step towards you.

"Please," you managed to get out, jerking back into the headboard, trembling. You silently begged that you would fall asleep, or wake up, anything to make the nightmare before you go away.

Yondu's eyes widened and he held up his hands as he took another gentle step toward you despite how you still hadn't looked his way. "It's alright, you're ok, whatever it is- it's not real."

"Please," you say again, pleadingly, "Please knock me out."

Yondu looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Please... Please. Knock me out. Sedate me- I don't care." You begged. You believed his voice when it said the creature wasn't real, or at very least you wanted to believe it very badly. However, believing it wasn't real didn't change the fact that you could still see it. Tears started to leak from your eyes. "Please make it stop."

Seeing you beg like that tore at something in Yondu's heart. You guys all did scary shit all the time. Came with the job of being part of the "Guardians of the Galaxy." Everyone had seen each other scared at some point, but this was different.

He spoke softly. "Ok, ok." He looked at Rocket for assistance. When he had threatened to knock you out earlier it had only been a joke. Other than sucker-punching you, which he had no intention of doing, he didn't actually have anything he could give you that would knock you out.

Rocket spoke up, uncharacteristically softly, trying to be helpful. "Look, it's ok, we're here, you're safe." He made to jump up on the bed before Yondu could stop him.

A reddish oozing blob similar to the creature in the corner but with reddish eyes jumped up by your feet and you screamed.

Yondu's scolding cry to Rocket of "Dammit, boy! No!" was drowned out by your cry as you kicked and sent the horrible thing flying to the end of your bed. It just managed to keep from falling to the floor by sinking its claws into the blanket, and it stood back up with a shake. You shrieked as you threw your empty water glass right at the creatures head only for it to catch it and toss it aside on the bed.

Then you felt strong hands grab your wrists. You heard Yondu's voice calling your name, saying it was alright, that everything was ok, but it wasn't Yondu. It was the creature from the corner.

"I don't think that's helping!" Rocket said, hopping off the bed to narrowly avoid being kicked again.

"Well jumpin' up on the bed wasn't yer brightest idea either, boy!" Yondu scolded back. You were sliding down the headboard, trying to get away from him, so he switched tactics. He traded gripping your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you, effectively pining your arms with your wrists against your chest in a hug so he could rock you gently saying, "Shh, it's alright, you're safe. It's alright. Shh."

Tears ran down your face as the creature wrapped itself around you. You turned your face away, kicking and struggling to break free as you cried softly, "No no no! Please no!"

Yondu continued to rock you, hoping you'd snap out of it. After a couple more shushes and assurances that you were safe, that weren't quite working, he threw a sideways glance at Rocket. "This doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Rocket cheekily replied, "Me? Tell everyone you're a giant softie? Never!"

Yondu glared at him and was about to say something snarky in return when he heard Mantis from the doorway.

She peeked in nervously. "Is everything ok? I was walking by and I heard screaming."

Rocket got an idea. Drax had told him how Mantis had put Ego, an entire living planet, to sleep. Surely a mere Terran should be no problem. "Mantis come here, we need your help."

Mantis quickly but shyly entered your room. Seeing the state of you in Yondu's arms she worriedly asked the pair if you were ok.

"Not exactly." Rocket answered honestly, telling Mantis how the fever put you in a bad way, and they now needed her help to put you to sleep so you'd feel better.

"Think you can do that for us, Bug?" Yondu asked, still holding you tightly as you cried and struggled to get away, his eyes nearly pleading.

Mantis nodded.

You felt the creature's arms wrap tighter and you kicked fruitlessly. You had kept your eyes shut tightly, but upon feeling that you almost had an arm free you allowed them to open.

You regretted it.

There was now also a shorter monster, just like the one from the corner that had you now in its clutches. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and it opened its glistening maw as it reached a bloodied, oozing hand toward your face.

You threw back your head in a weak, terrified, cry of anguish, struggling against the hold of the other monster as you kicked and sobbed a desperate, "Please no! Don't!" before once again darkness enveloped you.

Your struggling ceased and Yondu laid you down to rest on your pillow, brushing some sweaty hair back from your eyes before standing up.

"Jeez," Rocket said, shaking his head and wondering aloud what you had seen that made you do "that."

Yondu looked down to see that Rocket wasn't just referencing your terrified crying and thrashing. He made a face of pity before sighing and looking up at Mantis. "Sweetheart, I need ya to go fetch Gamora for me, alright? If ya can't find her get Drax. I'm gonna go find some more sheets."

***

When Mantis came and told Gamora what had happened she immediately had Peter call the doctor they sent for to ask him what to do. You were clearly worsening and Peter was worried the doctor wouldn't get there in time.

Once on the line and after finding your temperature was over 40°C, and learning about the hallucinations, the doctor instructed that you needed to be cooled down immediately, and suggested they place you in a cold bath or shower. After that, they needed to keep your fluids up and monitor your fever.

Until the doctor would get there in about 18 hours, there was unfortunately not much else he could tell them to do.

So they waited.

***

The next time you fully came-to was nearly two days later.

You woke up in your bed feeling tired but better than before. Your stomach was still slightly achy, but the terrible cramping was gone. You also didn't feel as cold and stiff as you previously had.

You sat up, this time without the room performing cartwheels as you did so, and you took that as a good sign.

The room was dimly lit, but you still noticed you were wearing different clothes. You also felt... cleaner than you'd expect, for lack of better word. You realized the implications were that one of the others had likely bathed and re-dressed you and you resolved not to think too much about it as you felt a blush start to creep up your neck.

A loud snore startled you and you looked over to see Drax asleep in a chair between the wall and your bed, an open magazine spread across his stomach where he must have fallen asleep reading it.

You quietly swung your feet over the bed, intent on stretching your legs a bit, but you were startled again when your feet touched down on the floor and a loud tinkling of bells set off, startling Drax awake in turn.

After a grunt and a rub of his eyes he looked at you disapprovingly, asking what you were doing.

"I was just going to walk around a bit," you answer, doing your best not to be snarky. "Why the hell are there bells trip-wired to my bed?"

"You're supposed to stay in bed. You kept trying to get up and falling. It was Rocket's idea so we'd hear you trying to escape."

It was your turn to make a disapproving face, but you supposed you couldn't exactly be mad at them for caring, even if it seemed unnecessary. "Well, why are you here?"

"We've been taking shifts to watch over you, Peter said we were waiting for your fever to break, but I told him waiting for your temperature to return to normal would be sufficient."

"Oh," is all you could say, brushing off his absurd literalness. "Um, thank you." you add quietly. You hadn't realized.

"Yes. Now will you go back to bed, or do you need help going to the toilet again?"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, each time you were almost awake enough to think you could walk the past couple days it was because you needed to use the toilet or you were going to vomit. I just assumed you were doing it again. You're very stubborn."

"No, Drax." you say, blushing fully now. You weren't sure if you were embarrassed more by his bluntness or the new knowledge that the others had to help you pee and clean up your sick. You didn't even want to think about if they had to wipe your ass. You'd literally die. "Even if I did, I can do it by myself. I feel much better now." It wasn't until then that it hit you what he had said. "Wait- Did you say two days?"

"I did."

"I've been out... for two days?"

"Yes."

"So... this whole time? ...You guys have been looking out for me?"

"Yes." Drax answered, seeming confused why you'd even ask. "Us and the doctor that came by yesterday." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped at your eyes quickly, having wished he hadn't noticed the tears that sprang to your eyes and filled your waterline. "I'm not," you sniff, looking down a the bed. "Just... Thanks. You didn't need to do that, so thanks. You can go to bed now. I feel better now. Sorry."

Drax stood. "Why are you apologizing? That's what family is supposed to do." He picked up a thermometer that had been placed on your nightstand and aimed it at your forehead. "And we did need to. You are small and weak like Peter. You would have died if we hadn't." The thermometer beeped and Drax read it. "You're right, your temperature is almost back to normal. But I suggest you still go back to sleep."

You wanted to tell him he was being dramatic about the dying part, but then you remembered that you actually didn't really remember much past seeing your bloody vomit, and you had absolutely no memory of any doctor, so you didn't push it.

"If your fever is gone you no longer need to be watched. I'll let the others know. Goodnight." Drax said, walking around the bed towards the door.

"Uh, Drax?"

He turned to you. "Yes?"

You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Thanks again."

He returned the hug, patting you on the back as he said, "You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same in return. Now sleep."

You pulled back from the hug and nodded, a gesture that you'd be good and go to sleep.

Drax seemed to want the confirmation of you getting back under the covers though, so with a light laugh huffed through your nose you crawled back between the sheets and obeyed. Seemingly satisfied, Drax finally left.

***

You woke the next morning feeling almost completely like yourself again.

You washed up and dressed, but not before removing the trip-wire bells from your bed, and then you made your way out of your room to get a glass of water and see if you could find the others.

Turned out, both the water and your teammates were all in the same place.

You walked into the kitchen to find everyone already inside. Before you could say anything Kraglin spoke up.

"Look! The world's worst patient lives!" he said with a grin.

"Nah, Krags, that's still you." Yondu corrected, giving you a wink as Peter agreed with him, but amended that it was a close race.

You walked over to a cabinet to get yourself a glass. "Drax told me what you guys did, and- well, thanks," you say walking over to the sink. "I mean, spare me the details, I don't want to hear anymore about it than what Drax already told me happened, but still, thanks. You didn't need to." You filled your glass and turned back to face them, sipping your water.

Yondu noted your blush and nudged you in the arm on his way to the coffee. "Don't mention it, kid."

This sentiment was met with nods and verbalizations of agreement from the others. You were family. That's what family did.

"Kay, but next time, which I hope there won't be, just stay in bed." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." you say, grumbling playfully.

"You hear that? Someone write that down." said Rocket, "We're going to hold you to that."

"Don't push it." you say, eyeing the raccoon.

"What? Your stubborn ass only tried to escape like a hundred times," Kraglin joked.

"And that's my cue to get to work," you say, setting your glass on the counter with the intent to run away from this conversation. However, you were stopped by Yondu grabbing your sleeve with an "Ah, Ah" and Gamora shoving a bowl of Yarrow Root across the table with the command to "Eat something first. You don't want to set yourself back and get sick again."

You sighed but didn't argue, knowing it was better to comply and realizing you were a little hungry anyway. You took a root from the bowl and bit into it to satisfy your friends.

That's when Peter speaks up and tells you that the doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a day or two.

You narrowed your eyes. "When?"

"When she was here."

"When was that?" You take another bite of the root.

"Couple days ago."

You swallow. "Well then I'm considering that as time served." you say, deciding you'd take your breakfast to go.

Drax blocked your path.

"Um, can I get through?"

"No. Quill said this might happen. I'm stopping you from escaping. Finish your breakfast."

You shoot a glare at Peter before giving a hopeful look to Rocket. "You can talk some sense into them, right?"

Rocket shrugged. "Not my problem." before collecting Groot and leaving the kitchen with Mantis, who mouthed the word "Sorry" to you as they left.

You sighed, knowing there sure as hell wasn't any reasoning with the other five. "Really? This is what we're gonna do?"

"Yep." Peter grinned. Yondu and Kraglin simply shrugged behind their coffee.

Once you relented and sat down Gamora stood and stated that it wouldn't kill you to rest after being sick before leaving with Drax, who had apparently decided his job as security guard was now over. He said he was glad you were feeling better before following Gamora to the door and saying to her, without consideration that you could still hear, something to the tune that he imagined you felt better... now that you weren't puking and soiling yourself.

You choked on your water.

The other three pretended to be utterly fixated with the table and walls of the kitchen and you covered your face with your hands and moaned, "Next time please let me die."

"Will ya settle for us forgettin' it happened and never speakin' of it again?" Kraglin asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"Yes please." you squeaked from behind your hands.

Seeing an opportunity and taking it Peter added, "You still have to take the next couple days easy though."

"Anything!" you promise, lowering your head to the table.

"I think we got ourselves a deal." Yondu laughed, getting up to put his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "C'mon squirt, I'm sure we can find somethin' to take your mind off it."

And you did. You spent the next couple days just hanging around the ship with the guys and watching old movies Peter had collected over the years, telling funny stories, playing cards, and actually keeping your promise to let your body rest. Before long the whole ordeal was all but forgotten, but you were still always grateful for your family.

You knew no matter what, they had your back.

[elisaphoenix13]

Road Trip (Ch.2)

All it took was one sign. One sign to get his kids to talk over each other and beg Tony to take the next exit to the county festival and that's what he did. What was the sign? The top part of a ferris wheel. That he didn't even see until he drove another mile. The excitement was so contagious that even Lucy squealed happily and Tony really had no choice after that. It was a good excuse to get out of the car and spend some time doing something else besides getting uncomfortable in a cramped car.

He just knew the kids would be getting back in the car later with too much sugar in their systems. Tony doubted Stephen would stop them as long as they didn't consume enough to give themselves stomach aches. The second he parked, the older kids started unbuckling and climbing out of the car to stretch and let Athena out.

"Hey, hey, it's not going anywhere you guys." Tony says as he turns off the car.

"It's not that." Thomas makes a face.

"I think Lucy got a little too excited." Cassie laughs and Tony sniffs.

Oh yeah. The car didn't smell like that five minutes ago.

"Oh dolcezza. You are your mother's daughter." Tony sighs.

"Excuse you?!" Stephen says as the kids cackle.

"You know I'm kidding. I'll change her." Tony laughs as he gets out of the car and walks around to join the kids at the side door.

"You wouldn't have had a choice." Stephen grumbles, getting out and taking the wallet Tony hands over to him. "I'll go buy the tickets."

As Stephen walks away, Athena dutifully follows him, and Tony digs Lucy out of her car seat after laying down the portable changing pad on the floor of the car. Diana and Valerie had climbed out beforehand and went to stand with either Cassie or William and from what he could catch from Diana's excited rambling, she already had plans on what she wanted to do. The kids would probably split up a little but he knew Diana and Valerie would be safely supervised so he wasn't worried about losing any kids. Tony was still a little surprised that Valerie was okay with the idea of staying with William, but it was good. Her attachment to the younger twin was (very) slowly helping her not rely on Stephen's presence which would be extremely helpful when she was old enough for school.

Tony had a feeling Diana and Val would eventually be pawned off on Tony and Stephen so the teens could do their own thing without having to worry.

"Okay, Lulu." Tony says as he picks up the freshly diapered infant and holds her against his shoulder. "Let's go find a trash can to dispose of your biological warfare."

"There's one by the entrance." Stephen says as he approaches them again and holds out the tickets and some money for each of them. "Don't give yourself stomach aches and keep an eye on your sisters. We'll get together for lunch around 2."

"Thanks Mom!" Harley says and the kids grab their tickets.

All except Valerie who looked confused when Stephen didn't have one for her.

"You don't need one darling." Stephen says with a smile. "You get to go in for free. Are you going to be with William?"

"Yes Mama."

"Okay. Be good for him."

"She always is." William says and picks up the toddler. "Come on. We'll go see if they have face painting."

Tony chuckles as the kids take off, shouldering the diaper bag before closing and locking up the car. He and Stephen head for the entrance as well, and only then does he notice Athena with her service vest on. Probably a good idea. It was unlikely pets were allowed, but they weren't going to leave her in the car, so the vest would let her in with no questions asked. She was legally licensed as a service animal anyway. With how much their family had gone through, anxiety and PTSD were unfortunately a part of their lives. At the very least.

But they had a good handle on that so the worst case scenario would be that they really did lose a kid in the chaos, and Athena would be able to sniff them out.

"I need to dispose of the evidence." Tony reminds Stephen, and the sorcerer chuckles.

"Right over there." Stephen motions with his hand, and waits for Tony to come back before saying, "we probably should have all put some sunscreen on."

"I think there's some in the diaper bag. We'll snatch the kids as we see them and apply it with a mop."

Stephen snorts. "I think we should ban Lilo and Stitch for a while. There have been too many references."

"What are you talking about?" Tony asks.

"Stupid head, Pudge, applying sunscreen with a mop--" Stephen says while ticking off his fingers.

"Two of those were Diana." Tony points out.

Stephen chuckles as they walk through the front gates of the fair and they both kind of reel back from the amount of noise they walk into. Even with seven kids and living in New York, some things just couldn't fully prepare them for the variety of noises the fair had. Carnival rides, kids screaming, those people at the rigged games trying to attract a sucker out of their allowance...and it all fascinated Lucy. Well, her fascinated look consisted of looking over Tony's shoulder while drooling on it, but she was unbothered. Not even the sudden noises startled her. She did have six older siblings that were pretty noisy.

"Just a second." Stephen suddenly says and Tony rolls his eyes when the sorcerer seems to grab Thomas out of thin air. "Sunscreen please."

"I'm too fast to get sunburned." Thomas says.

"Did you get that idea from Pietro? That's not how it works." Stephen huffs and takes the diaper bag from Tony to place it on a nearby empty table and dig out the sunscreen.

A full thing of it to Tony's surprise. Though he probably shouldn't have been. Stephen was on top of things like that and it still amazed him that the sorcerer could keep up with that kind of stuff. Stephen really was a mom...or maybe his eidetic memory had a hand in it? Maybe both.

"Thank you." Stephen says once Thomas is finished. "Send your brothers and sisters our way if you see them."

"Okay, okay!" And Thomas was gone in a flash.

"You know, just last year, he and William would have cowered at the thought of sassing you." Tony says as he sits down at the table.

"I'm glad that's not the case anymore." Stephen says as he squirts some sunscreen into his hands, then starts applying it to Lucy. "Can you get her hat out of the bag?"

"Yup."

Tony grabs the bag, doing his best to dig through it with one hand, and finally gets his hand on a yellow sun hat with bears. He immediately places it on Lucy's head and helps rub in the rest of the sunscreen on her face.

"I don't remember buying the hat."

"That's because it's from Pepper." Stephen says.

"When did she give it to us?" Tony asks, kissing Lucy's cheek when she's properly protected from harmful sun rays.

"I think you were in the lab with Thomas figuring out something with his suit."

"Oh yeah."

It took a little while, but they eventually got a hold of all of their kids to apply the needed sunscreen, William and Valerie surprisingly being the last. As William promised, they had found a face painting stand and now the little girl's cheek had a group of stars on it. William even helped carefully apply the sunscreen so it wouldn't ruin the paint but she would still be protected, and then they were off again. It really made Tony and Stephen happy to see a teenager willing to spend time with a two year old for so long. But then again, Valerie was almost always so well behaved and adored William almost as much as her mother. Tony wondered if Lucy would follow one if the older kids like a duckling when she was a little older too.

"Tony!" Stephen exclaims. "Don't give her that!"

Tony looks at Stephen and smiles. He had gotten up to buy some cotton candy and came back, giving Lucy a tiny piece. No bigger than the nail on his pinky finger. Of course she loved it and opened her mouth for more…and of course Tony obliged her.

"It won't hurt her. It'll dissolve and I'm not giving her anymore." Tony brushes him off and holds out the cotton candy to Stephen.

"What are we going to do about lunch?" The sorcerer sighs.

"Uh... the closest thing to healthy I've seen were burgers or corn dogs." Tony replies, looking around.

Stephen grimaces. "Not the greatest choices but the kids won't want to leave to find a diner."

Tony snorts. "They'll be fine."

"Hey, Mom!" Peter walks over with an enormous teddy bear and sets it on the bench next to Stephen, with Cassie and Diana close behind. "Got you something."

"Are you taking lessons from your father? I heard about the rabbit from Pepper." Stephen rolls his eyes.

"I'm kidding. Lucy can have it." Peter laughs and leans over the table to grab the baby's foot. "She doesn't have one yet right?"

"If that thing falls in her, we'll never find her." Tony says as the other four kids finally join them, and he hands his wallet to Peter. "Hamburgers or corn dogs. That's what you guys have to choose from."

"Hamburger." All of the kids say in unison and Peter shrugs.

"Makes that easier for me."

He kisses Cassie's cheek as he turns and grabs Thomas's wrist to drag him along to help, and the rest of them sit down and wait once Harley and Cassie pull a second picnic table closer. Peter knew how everyone liked their burger so their lunch arrived pretty quickly without Thomas running it over. Both boys came back with their arms full of burgers and then made a second trip to bring cups of lemonade for everyone. They ate their lunch with loud conversation to be heard over the noise of the fair, and then when they were finished, the older kids (sans Thomas) took off again to do their own thing. Diana was content to hit the games with Thomas for a little while, and Valerie was happy to stay with her parents and sister.

"You've got some ketchup." Stephen mumbles and wipes Valerie's cheek with a napkin. The unpainted one. "How's your hamburger?"

"Yummy."

"Did you have fun with William?"

"Uh-huh. Took me up there!" She points at the ferris wheel.

Stephen and Tony smile as the sorcerer digs out Athena's bowl and places it on the ground before filling it up with some water Harley had gotten from a food stand before he left with William. Of course they had fed her too, but Stephen had to discreetly retrieve her meal through one of his gateways since there wasn't a good chance of finding some decent meat at the fair. Stephen sort of spoiled his wolf.

"We'll give them a couple more hours to enjoy the fair before we hit the road." Tony says. "We need to find a place to stay the night."

"There's a hotel in town. We can let the kids stay until they're either ready to go or it starts to get dark." Stephen says.

"It'll give them time to digest all the crap they ate today, I guess." Tony nods. "Works for me."

"Maybe we'll find somewhere decent to eat for dinner. Some place that sells salad." Stephen says and Tony laughs.

"Sweating grease over there Duchess?"

"I feel disgusting."

"You get first dibs on the shower." Tony cackles. "No matter how many rooms we end up with."

"Watching the kids eat those hamburgers…" Stephen rubs his eyes. "I need to eat five salads."

"Might as well get one of those deep fried Snickers bars then."

"They have that and you're telling me now?!"

Tony laughs again when Stephen gets up from the picnic bench to go searching for a stand that made his chocolate treat. They were at the fair so it only made sense to join in on eating ridiculous amounts of junk that would possibly clog their arteries and make up for it later with salad for dinner.

"Get me one too!" Tony calls after him.

[agentofscifi]

Super Genius Marinette Ch. 2

I hand the taxi driver a few American bills as payment just after he sets down my bags on the sidewalk. I was right in front of the Avengers building, which had a small collection of reporters outside of it. The man smiles as he pops back into his car. I give him a small wave as he drives off. Swinging my backpack over my shoulders and I take both of my bags by the handle, wheeling up to the door. The reporters, for some reason, didn’t seem to notice me until I was typing my password into the keypad by the door.  

“Ma’am? Who might you be and what business do you have with the Avengers? Are you with the other children who have been seen entering this building?” A darked haired woman is holding a mic out to me, her cameraman fixating on my face.  

I shrug as the door opens up on its own. “There will be a press conference later this summer to answer all of your questions. That is all I will say for now.”  

I wheel my bags through the door, leaving behind the small gaggle, who were still attempting to ask my questions. A few of the workers on the bottom floors look at me weirdly as I pull my bags into the main elevator.   

“Hello FRIDAY, how are you?”  

“Very well, Ms. Stark. Your father is located on the communal floor, would you like to go there first, or visit your floor?”  

“The communal floor, please.”  

“Of course.”  

I pull up my sunglasses from my face and quickly pull out my phone. I sent a quick text to my parents back in Paris that I arrived at the tower. As The elevator dings at the floor, I tuck my phone back into my back pocket and grab both of my bags. I walk out the door into the general floor, high heels clicking on the tiles. Several heads whip around and look at me from the couches.  

“Crap.” One of the men, Clint Barton, groans. “Tony, your security sucks! There’s another Captain America fangirl up here?  

I raise an eyebrow. “Ok, first of all, I am not a Captain fangirl. He puts up a good fight, but he needs some serious wardrobe help.” Said man flushes at my words. “Secondly, the security is fine here, I helped set it up. Thirdly,” I look up at the ceiling. “Friday?”  

“Yes?”  

“Where is my Dad?”  

“Right here, my little genius!” My father practically runs me over as he goes to hug me.   

The people at the couches stare. “You have a kid?   

I pear over my father’s shoulder. The collection of Avengers were all staring at us with gobsmacked expressions. “Yes, he does. Who’s asking?”  

One of the guys sticks his arm up. “Sam Wilson. When did this happen?”  

“14 years and 364 days ago.”   

Sam Wilson stares at me with wide eyes, “So, you’re 15 tomorrow?”  

“Yup.”  

“Are you French?” Steve Rodgers decided to pop into the conversation at this point.   

“Yes, well not technically. Dad,” I gesture to my father, “is American. My Mom is from China, she moved to France to study baking. She married my Papa who’s ½ French. I did grow up in Paris, however.” Rodgers nods.  

Thor puts a large hand up. “Does this mean the other younglings here are your children too?”  

Dad sighs. “No. I’m mentoring them. Mari is my only child.”  

“And we were never told because?” Clint Barton is still looking between my Dad and I.  

I shrug. “I wanted a normal childhood. Being the daughter of Tony Stark would have made my childhood crazy. This was before Ironman and the Avengers became a thing.”  

Clint nods in agreement. “Fair enough. Why are you here now then?”  

“My little genius,” My father kisses my cheek. “Is starting MIT in the Fall!”  

“Oh, God. She’s a mini you!” I easily recognize Bucky Barnes from his signature metal arm.   

“But with better fashion sense!” I give all of them a winning smile.  

“Can we come back to Captain America needing fashion help.” The Black Widow is grinning from her place next to the couch.  

The Avengers all look at me with expectant gazes. Barnes looked all too happy at the topic. I simply shrug. “You look like America's 4 year old daughter after she’s finally allowed to pick out her own clothing. You were practically glowing, that outfit was so bright. It’s like you were asking for the enemy to notice you. Get a stylist!”  

Steve Rogers’ face starts to turn red. “It worked back in the 40’s during the war.”  

“No, honey, it didn’t.” Bucky and Sam are starting to laugh behind their hands. “People just loved you more than they disliked the suit.”  

Rodgers’ face is a deep red right now. “It’s an iconic antique.”  

“Then put it in a museum and leave it there.” Bucky finally snaps and roars with laughter. Sam isn’t far behind as he lands on the floor to roll around.  

“I’m sorry, who is the tiny french girl who’s verbally beating up Steve?” Bruce Banner is standing by the elevator with the most confused expression on his face.  

“Tony’s daughter, apparently.” Clint shrugs.  

“And Tony has had a daughter for how long?”  

“15 years.” I give Banner a bright smile. “I’ve read several of your papers. Your gamma radiation and nuclear physics work is amazing, but I preferred the stuff on Biochemistry. I have some ideas I was hoping you take a look at.”  

Bruce blinks a few times. “I-15 years-What kind of ideas?”  

“Bacta patches. I want to see if I can make them real. I’ve written out some formulas, but haven’t been able to really talk to anyone about them yet or test them out.”   

“Uhh...Sure. Bacta patches, like from Star Wars?”  

“Yup.”  

“Tony, your daughter is a fashionista and a nerd. I’ve only ever heard of such rare creatures.” Bucky was no longer laughing at Steve, but still looked too happy.   

“Technically, I’m a fashion designer.”  

“Tony, you daughter is a fashion designer and a nerd.”  

“Who has an IQ of 265!” My Father is smiling down at me, pride filling his eyes.  

A glass drops and shatters across the floor. “Holy shit!” is whispered from someone in the room.  

My Father ignores all of this. “Well, I’m going to introduce Mari to the rest of the kids. Carry on!”  

I give a small wave to the stunned adults. “Bye! It was nice to meet all of you! I’ll speak to you later Doctor Banner.”   

My Father pushes me into the elevator, leaving several flabbergasted Avengers. I raise an eyebrow as the elevator moves down a few levels. “You didn’t tell them about me.”  

He snorts. “And miss that interaction. That was so much better than I could ever have ever dreamed.”  

The door dings open and I’m suddenly in a smaller version of the top floor living room. There were 9 teenagers sitting around a coffee table, a variety of bags scattered around the couches and loveseats. All of the heads look up at me when I come in.  

The oldest male swears in english. “Damn it Stark, how many of us are you going to kidnap?”  

I raise an eyebrow and turn my head up. “Kidnap?”  

My father gasps dramatically. “Kidnap? I did not kidnap! Your parents practically threw you at me once I showed up.”  

One of the other boys snorts. “Aunt May is still angry about Germany. She said if you showed up at our house again, she’d throw you out the window.”  

My father shrugs. “Your Aunt is a terrifying force of nature.”  

A blonde girl rolls her eyes and walks up to me. A hand shoots out. “Gwen Stacy, I’m from New York and I’m 17.”   

I take her hand. “A pleasure.”  

The oldest boy sticks his hand in the air. “Harley Keener, Tennessee. Also 17.”  

The boy with a terrifying aunt gives me a small wave. “Peter Parker, Queens. 16.”  

Brown haired latina woman gives me a nod. “Anya Corazon. I’m from Brooklyn. 16, as well.”  

The last guy briefly looks up from the computer in his lap to give me a smile. “Ned Leeds. I’m from New York and I’m 16, too.”  

The girl next to him does even look up as she waves. “MJ. New York. 17. Nice shoes.”  

I glance down. “Thanks.”  

MJ nods, still looking at my computer. She nudges the guy on the floor next to her foot.  He pulls off his headphones and gives me a wave. “Oh, hey! Miles Morales. Brooklyn native. Freshly 16.”  

A girl about my age looks up from the small project in her hand. “Riri Willaims, Chicago. 15.”  

Lastly was a girl who looked even younger than me. She waves from her seat on the floor by Riri. “Peni Parker, no relation to Peter Parker. I’m from New York. I’m 14, but will be 15 in two months.”  

I wave back. “Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Stark. I’m from Paris and I turn 15 tomorrow.”  

Harley chokes on the drink he’d just swallowed. “I’m sorry, Stark?”  

I nod. “Tony’s my Dad. We’ve just kept it on the downlow so I could have a normal childhood.”  

Everyone one is looking at me. I simply shrug it off. “So, you guys are all going to the International Technology Showcase in D.C. this summer, right?”  

There’s several nods. “Yup.” Peni gives me a wide smile. “We’ve all got stuff to showcase. What about you?”  

“I’ve got my showcase pieces.”  

My Father claps me on my shoulder. “Ok, now that you are all here,  can give you guys a tour.”  

Ned shuts his computer and Riri sets the components in her hands down on the coffee table. I set my backpack on the ground as my father guides us to a door on the right. He flips on a switch to reveal a large game room, complete with several large TV’s and game consoles. “This is the Game Room.”  

He walks across the main living room and flips on another light. A huge kitchen with a large table sits in this room. “Kitchen and dining room are here.”  

He points up. “Bedrooms are on the next two level. Boys on the next floor, girls above them. All of the rooms have labels and there is a central living space where the stairs and elevator dump you out. The floor below us is a training room. The two floors below that are labs. Engineering labs on the upper floor and a Biochem lab on the floor below. We expect to see you all at some point, so don’t live in isolation.” Dad walks back over to the elevator. “Have fun, just don’t blow up the building.” We all watch him wave as the elevator door closes.  

It’s silent as everyone looks at each other awkwardly. I roll my eyes after a few seconds. “So, Star Wars marathon? Who’s in?”  

Ned and Peter immediately stick their hands up, to the amusement of Gwen and MJ. Riri nods. “I’m up for anything. What are we doing for dinner?”  

Miles shrugs. “I don’t know how to cook.”  

I roll my eyes. “I’ll order pizza. How does a Deluxe, Margarita, and a Meat Lover’s sound.”  

“You getting drinks?” Harley raises an eyebrow.  

“A couple two liters, some normal breadsticks and some of those dessert pizzas that look like someone dumped a whole bag of sugar and icing on top.” I get a nod from Harley.  

Anya nods. “I don't know what you all are going to do over the next hour, but I’m moving in. Pizza and movies in an hour or so?”  

I pull out my phone and start to put in the order. “Should work. I don’t know about you all, but I am putting on sweatpants.” I grab my bag from the floor and handle of my suitcase as I make my way to the elevator.   

Peter starts to pull out his wallet. “How much do we own you?”  

I shake my head. “Nothing.”  

Peter shakes his head. “That doesn’t seem fair.”  

I raise an eyebrow. “My Dad is a billionaire. He paid for a quart of strawberries with a Jaeger-LeCoultre watch. He can buy us pizza.”  

“A Jaeger-LeCoultre watch, serious?” Riri looks absolutely annoyed.  

“Stark just gave a bunch of teenagers 6 floors all for ourselves with no supervision.” Harley snorts. “He doesn’t seem to think everything through.”  

“He has FRIDAY watching us.” I press the confirmation button on the Pizza. “Pizza will be here in 45. But, ya. My Dad has FRIDAY and KAREN keeping an eye on all of us.”  

Harley gets a look in his eye. “We have babysitting monitors!” A scary smile graces his lips. “I say we revolt!”  

Gwen face palms, but it’s too late. MJ, Peter, Riri, Peni and Miles all look too excited. Frankly, so was I. “Anyone know a lawyer?” Riri is grinning now too.  

Peter sticks his hand up. “Mathew Murdock.”  

Anya seems to be getting excited too. “So, what are we rebelling?”  

“Baby monitor protocols!”   

Gwen rolls her eyes, but caves. “We need more than that!”  

I bite my lip. “We also need time. We need our own AI.”  

“How are we adding in our own AI to the tower?” Ned has his computer under his arm as we enter the elevator.   

“I helped design the security for this building. Once we have our own AI, I add them to the tower’s system. Once we’ve done that I’ll take FRIDAY out of our 6 floors and add in our AI.”  

Silence for a second as the elevator doors close. “Can you keep Tony out of our floors?” Peni is practically vibrating.  

“I can keep everyone off our floors.”  

Harley throws his arms into the air. “We revolt at dawn!”  

“After the Star Wars Marathon!” Peter and Ned have thrown their arms into the air too. Peni joins in with Miles and soon several teens are cheering in this tiny elevator.   

I blink a few times and van’t help the smile that forms onto my face. How did my dad find these crazy teenagers?  

Before ~~~~~ Next

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

For the one word prompt: ‘rocking chair’ (with a creepy whumper, pleeease!) 🙏🏻

So, I might had gone a little overboard with the creepy whumper and... well... this is the result. Full warning, I had to write this with a wall at my back and a closed door I could see... I also really don’t like that they named themselves (and yes; I mean all of them) 

Fair warning friends... Halloween came early

CW: restraints, drugging, slight cursing, creepy

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

“Oh, I just love nights like this, don’t you dear?” Rose Stewart looked out on the garden and adjusted her shawl. Bethany had made it for her years ago, knit with soft cotton to drape the elderly lady’s shoulders with a soft eggshell blue. The fringe tickled the edge of her fingers, spotted with age and honest work, now rendered still and painful with arthritis. She took a deep breath of the sweet night air.

“Watching the sky change colors. Papa always told me that God’s final gift to artists was to paint the sunset every night. Hmm. Just beautiful tonight. And the Tuberose flowers will be blooming around this time of year. Ever since I was a little girl, I would always beg Mama and Papa to stay up and smell the night flowers. Don’t they smell sweet, dearie?”

Peter raised his head to look at the old woman who sat in the rocking chair on the wizened porch. His head was still fuzzy and rolling from the medication she slipped in the tea she offered him. He twisted in the ropes that bound him to the rail column.

How long was he out? It was getting late evening, so his boss must have noticed that he was missing. It was just supposed to be a home call; a check in from social services.

“Please, Mrs. Stewarts-“

“Please honey, call me Mrs. Rose.” Her voice was as sweet as any grandmother, eyes not focused on Peter. Instead, her hazel eyes drifted just over his shoulder and stayed there. His back was facing the open country, porch railing keeping him from turning his shoulders.

It wasn’t the first time she had looked over his shoulder. The same shoulder. Her eyes would focus far in the distance, and a soft smile would grace her face.

Peter told himself that there was nothing in the garden behind him in the twilight.

“Mrs. Rose,” he corrected, words slurring a little. “I need to go home. I just came to check up on you and make sure that you’re alright. You missed some doctor’s appointments and they’re worried.”  

She smiled and finally looked away, turning her head to the corn field.

“Oh, I know. No one ever comes to visit anymore. How can I summon the Stalk Man if no one comes to visit me?”

Chills like long fingers ran up Peter’s spine His exposed spine.

“I-I’m Sorry? Who?”

Rose Stewart’s eyes met his and be tugged at the ropes again, a little more frantically this time.

“The Stalk Man, of course dear. He always comes here to gather his crop.” Her eyes drifted back over his shoulder.

She’s off her meds. That’s it. She missed her appointment and her prescription ran out. There’s no one out here in the countryside…. 20 miles out of town…. At dusk.

“His, his crop? The corn?” He asked. Just buy time, just buy time. They’ve noticed you haven’t gotten back to the office by now. They’ve pulled your case load and they’re on their way. Just buy time.

Rose rocked for a moment, lopsided smile on her face. She laughed, sweet and hauntingly toneless.

“Oh no. What use would the Stalk Man have with corn? No, his first was little Bethany, then the neighbor boy Daniel. Papa used to hire farm hands, and the Stalk Man would reap them too.”

A caw of a crow broke the fading light and Peter jumped.

“Oh, dearie that was just a little ole Jackdaw. They’re nothing to jump at.”

Peter looked up at her with a look of what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. Rose didn’t seem to mind. She tugged the shawl closer and looked back out to the cornfield.

“Then Papa sold the field to Mr. Darrels. We thought the Stalk Man reap from him, but he stayed. Next was Wyatt, then his wife Anne. A little bit later he took Mama, and then Papa.”

The moon was rising, cresting over the stalks that started to sway in the still summer air.

“Then he came for me.”

Peter’s heart beat in his chest and threatened to jump out of his throat. His back arched away from the darkness behind him, instinct reacting to something he couldn’t see.

Rose looked back over his shoulder into the night.

“They always come back for their own.”

[justahopelessssromantic]

Hey girl. If I could request a song fic with either "unless it's with you" or "deserve" by Christina Aguilera for Angel ❤️💕. Hopefully fluff because I'm a sucker for happy but I'll love anything you write! Thank you!!

Unless It’s With You

*Both songs are amazing 😍 and I will probably be getting to Deserve in the near future as well! This one was so fun to write and I really hope you enjoy it! It got me feeling all warm and fuzzy 😊*

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Just some much needed pure fluff for our boy Angel

Never wanted to feel weak in love, give up control. Never wanted to let down my guard, be vulnerable. Never wanted to feel helpless or too comfortable. I make it on my own, hey.

Like many people before you, you had been hurt in love, brutally. Ever since then you swore to yourself you would never put yourself through that pain again. You built walls, high and sturdy. And no one was going to break those down. You weren’t ever going to let love make you weak, again. You were terrified of getting too close, feeling too safe with another person and them throwing you away and crushing your heart, leaving you alone and broken once more.

I've been thinking a lot about the way that people change.The most beautiful beginnings can go down in flames. It's inevitable, and that's what's got me so afraid. I'd rather be alone.

It was easier and safer being single, a sacrifice you were willing to make. Not only had it happened to you but you had seen the same thing happen to almost all the people in your life. They were happy and in love and then all of a sudden their relationships were crumbling around them, they were breaking up and getting divorced.

It was as if the promises and vows they made never mattered.

You couldn’t do that to yourself, you wouldn’t. So you made the decision to never get married, and if possible not to fall in love, it was just safer that way.

And then life through you a curveball, sending you your very own personal angel.

I don't want no white picket fence. Dozen roses and a wedding dress. Fairy tales are fake happiness. But here we are and I must confess.

You took a deep breath as you tried to calm your nerves, standing there in your white dress preparing to walk down the aisle, tying the knot with the love of your life, something you thought you would never be doing. Your mind reflected on how you got here as you waited as patiently as you could for your cue.

Yeah, I'm in over my head feeling confused. I'm losing my mind, don't know what to do.

You laid in bed snuggled up against Angel’s chest, his arm wrapped around you leaving a light trail as he slowly ran his fingers up and down your spine. You sighed content listening to the steady beat of his heart, you were happier than you had ever been in your life.

You never wanted marriage and Angel knew this fairly quickly on in your relationship. He respected you and respected your wishes, the perfect gentlemen. He always thought he would be married one day but he loved you and just getting to be with you was enough for him.

You sat up and looked at him, this man who had turned your world upside down, tore all your defenses down. With him you could be completely open, vulnerable, and you always felt safe.

You had been thinking a lot recently, about your decision to never get married. You never thought you would let your guard down enough to fall so strongly for another that you would discard the rules you put in place to protect yourself, protect your heart.

But Angel had you reconsidering. He showed you what real love was. He was the most compassionate and caring person you had ever met and you loved him more than you even thought possible.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” He asked, sitting up and taking your hands into his large warm ones. The rough pads of his thumbs brushing against the back of your hands. “What’s on your mind, mi amor?”

You gulped, butterflies fluttering all around your stomach because of what you were about to say, “You know I don’t wanna get married,” you started to say.

“I know,” he said gently, cupping your face in his hand, “Just having you as my girl is enough.”

You smiled at his kind words. You weren’t sure how you got so lucky to find this wonderful man. “Unless it’s with you.”

He stared at you, mouth agape for a moment before he fully registered what you were trying to say. The corners of his mouth spread into the largest smile you had ever seen graze his beautiful face, as he looked at you, full of love, “Are you proposing, mi dulce?”

“Well, what do you say Angel Ignacio Reyes?” You asked, looking into his rich eyes, “Will you do me the honor of making me your wife?”

“You already know my answer.” The smile was still plastered to his face, “There’s nothing I want more in my life than to spend the rest of it with you as Mrs. (Y/N) Reyes.”

He brought his hand gently behind your neck pulling you into him for a deep, passionate kiss.

Pulling away he looked into your eyes once more, “You sure about this though? Cause once it’s done you can’t take it back. Til death do us part and all that shit.” He smirked, eyebrow raised.

“Til death do us part and all that shit, baby,” you grinned, bringing him in for another kiss.

You came into my life when I wasn't trying to find anybody to love, hiding what I felt inside.

You recalled the moment you first laid eyes on Angel. Honestly you judged him harshly at first, but in time you realized how wrong you were. Angel was nothing like how you thought he’d be, surprising you in every way.

You were pulled off to the side of the road, hood of your vehicle up as you wafted away the smoke coming out of it. You and this car had been through everything together but it had finally given in and petered out on you.

“Aw come on!” You exclaimed frustratedly, kicking the bumper before pacing off away from the old thing.

You held your phone up praying you could get some sort of signal out there in the middle of nowhere. Reaching up onto your tiptoes you stretched as far as you could as if that was gonna magically grant you service, as the rumbling of a motorcycle came sounding down the dirt road your way.

You pulled your arm down and looked at the man as he pulled up next to you. You cautiously put your phone into your pocket as you approached the stranger, he wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for help but you didn’t have many options.

“You aren’t gonna find any service out here querida.” He said matter of factly as he got off his bike, slipping his helmet off and swaggering your way.

This guy screamed trouble to you. Tall, sexy, and cocky, arms covered in ink, wearing a leather cut that read Mayans. This man was a heartbreaker you could tell, he was used to getting what he wanted, probably had a different woman wrapped around his finger every night.

“How about I give you a ride? You can call a tow when we get into town.” He offered stopping just a few feet away from you.

You thought for a moment as you weighed your options looking back at his motorcycle behind him. You could wait here for who knows how long and hope the next person that came along wasn’t a weirdo, or you could try walking the however many miles it was until you found service, or you could take your chances by hopping on the back of this stranger’s bike.

“My mama taught me never to take rides from strangers.” You said crossing your arms.

“I’m Angel,” he said, grinning smugly, “And you are?”

“(Y/N)”

“Well (Y/N)” he said, your name tasting heavenly in his mouth. If love at first sight was real, then he could have sworn this must have been what if felt like. “Now we aren’t strangers.”

“And how do I know you’re not some crazy killer who’s gonna toss me into some ditch, Angel?” You flirted, quirking your eyebrow. This man was already breaking away at those sturdy walls you had expertly put up so long ago.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He quipped back, “I guess we’ll just have to trust each other, or you could wait for some other person to come rollin’ up and take your chances with them, but not a lot of people come down this road, querida.”

You contemplated for a moment before finally giving in, not seeing much of a choice, “Fine,” you said , “but if you try anything I won’t hesitate to take you down, Angel. ”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, closing the gap between you and gently placing his helmet over your head. You held your breath as he clasped it securely under your chin, his fingers just barely brushing against your skin.

You reached into your car grabbing your bag, and taking his hand that he had extended out towards you.

Leading you over to his bike, he placed his hands delicately on your hips as he helped you mount it before climbing on in front of you. “Hang on!” He called out to you behind him, grinning as he felt your arms wrap around his waist.

And you have been ever since.

But you opened me up and now I finally realize. I'll be your girl for life.

You tried to deny your feelings, push him away but he was stubborn and persistent.

“Just one date,” he pleaded for what felt like the hundredth time, “let me treat you for just one night. If you hate it I promise I’ll leave you alone, won’t ask again.”

If one date would shut this man up then fine you thought to yourself, “Ok, one.” You said sternly, trying to fight the smile you felt as he got all excited, not expecting you to finally agree.

All it took was that one date for him to start opening you up. What took you years to build the man was breaking down in the matter of days. It wasn’t long before you truly felt that you would be his girl for life.

We don't need a big audience. Thousand people we never met. Me and you and a couple of friends. And here we are and I must confess

Now here you were, arm linked to your father’s as you stared down the aisle, making intimate eye contact with this man who held your heart, as you did his.

His smile lit up the room as he looked at you. There you were looking breathtakingly beautiful, a smile to match his own as you both just stared lovingly at each other. His heart swelled as his eyes began to water, he wasn’t sure how he got so lucky, but he would be thanking God everyday you had together.

It was a small ceremony with just your closest friends and family, the club taking up more than half of the seats, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Besides it could have been just you and Angel there and the two of you wouldn’t have noticed, your full attention on each other.

As you walked closer you could see the tears in his eyes and it took everything in you to keep your own back.

Beating heart and trembling hands. Take me just the way I am. 'Cause all that I want is one and the same. For the rest of my days.

Your heart raced as he took your hands in his, steadying them with his touch, your father giving you away and having a seat. You had never been so sure in your life about anything or anyone until this moment, the moment you and Angel would become man and wife. He accepted you fully and completely for who you were, you doing the same for him. As long as you were together you didn’t care what you were doing, just having each other for the rest of your days was good enough for the two of you.

And oh, I know it's scary. I know that it's true, I'm saying "I do"

“I do,” you breathed out, smiling at the heavy meaning behind such small words.

You blocked out everything Hank was saying, as he was the one officiating the ceremony, your eyes nevering leaving the others, the words “You may now kiss your bride,” being the only ones left that the two of you cared about.

Swooping you into his arms, Angel kissed you lovingly, your bodies melting into each other as the guests all cheered and hollered.

Pulling away you beamed at each other before turning your attention to the closest people in your lives, hands entwined, feeling as if the two of you were on cloud nine, ready to face everything and anything together for the rest of your days, as man and wife.

'Cause I don't want to get married. Unless it's with you, unless it's with you.

[evendeadlmthehero]

The Five Year Promise: Gone South (2/10)

Summary: Y/N Stark, 20 year old superhero, makes a promise with a 16 year old Peter Parker after being cheated on, that if she hasn’t found love in the next 5 years, they’d finally go on a date. Then the snap happens. Y/N is gone and Peter isn’t.

Warnings: swearing, angst

Authors note: thank you everyone who gave me positive feedback. The response has been amazing and I’m so grateful! PS- we are now two chapters away (I think) for the snap, so prepare for more angst

Also, if there is any spelling mistakes, please let me know. I finished writing this at 1am :((

Twitter//BuckysLemons (I only have 1 follower lol)

The Five Year Promise Masterlist

Part 3

Based on after Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

“Big day tomorrow,” your Dad said as he walked into the lab he had set up for you. Peter was trailing behind him, smiling at you as a greeting as you smiled back. “Are you sure you’re up for it because I could go instead-“

“Dad I am up for it,” you cut him off, trying to ugrade your suit. You wanted to incorporate your father’s nanotechnology with your quantum knowledge to create a suit that infused the energy. That way you didn’t need bands around your wrist and can shoot energy blasts from your suit instead.

It was like sowing your suit with quantum energy.

“Just making sure,” your father spoke, as he ate from a bag of chips. He looked at Peter, who was staring at you like you were the biggest star in the universe, and smirked to himself.

Of course your father, unbeknownst to you, had always wanted you and Peter to be a couple. Peter was every father’s dream for their daughter; a sweet and pure little boy that can never do no harm.

He had even spoke to you about him once.

“So,” Tony spoke, as he saw you smiling at Peter’s retreating figure after declining Tony’s offer of wearing the iron suit and becoming an avenger. “What do you think of Peter?”

You looked at him confusedly, as you knew Peter for almost two years and your father never even asked that question until today. “He’s great, why?”

“Well I was thinking Pete’s a great kid, very smart,” Tony begun, listing Peter’s qualities. “Very great kid. Massive upgrade from that Loshorn kid.”

“It’s Osborn, dad,” you rolled your eyes at him, before your eyes looked at Peter walking away from the building with Happy following him. “And besides, Peter is 4 years younger. I’m pretty sure that’s Paedophilia.”

“Not if it’s just dating,” You dad pointed out, walking over to you and rubbing your shoulders. “He’s a great kid. Really mature for his age, I mean the kid turned down the chance to be an Avenger! If you don’t give him a chance, you’ll regret it. Plus, I’m pretty sure that kid has an undying love for you. He basically stares at you like your some goddess. You get that effect from me by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at your dad before your mind went to Peter again. You sighed, shaking your head.

If only he was older.

“I’m going to step out. You and Peter can talk about the mission and how apparently, I’m not needed,” your Dad spoke, giving you a little wink. You shook your head at your dad, continuing to play with your suit.

Peter’s eyes glazed with panick as he realised that meant alone time with you. “I-I it’s okay Mr Stark, you don’t have to leave.”

“No, no, no my daughter clearly doesn’t want me,” Tony spoke, grabbing his chest like he was in pain as he slowly walked towards the door.

“Says the one that wanted me aborted 20 years ago!” You called out, a smirk on your face as you worked on your suit. You picked up the half-eaten Apple on your right and took a bite.

“Are you serious right now?” Tony groaned, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the bag of chips. “Because now I found out that you’re actually decent company. That’s all that matters. My dad wished he aborted me AFTER your grandmother gave birth.”

“Yeah because unlike you, I’m way cooler- ah!” You screamed, as your suit let a spark, scaring the hell out of you. The spark hit your apple and then the most weirdest thing happened.

You stared at your apple in bewilderment and so did Tony and Peter.

“I- I-“ you spoke out. Your apple was now full, not half eaten like it was before. You looked up to Tony and Peter, shaking your head. “I think- I think that suit regenerated the apple. Like- like healed it or-“

You stopped yourself, having no idea what happened.

Not knowing that soon, what you discovered, would change the world in a couple of years.

-

You sat on one of the seats at the back quinjet as it flew on autopilot. Usually before missions, you take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think about your Dad, Harry, Natasha and Pepper.

But this time, your mind drifted off to the boy who currently occupied the bathroom and was suiting up for the mission that Fury had gave you guys; Peter Parker.

Just two months ago, Peter was involved in an incident. Your father, and especially you, had told him to leave out of it, it was a job for the FBI. Peter of course didn’t listen to either one of you and still fought the guy who had been selling advance weapons to the community.

“Peter! Peter!” You yelled, as you ran into the building that you witness just collapse. Rubble was everywhere and the interior of the building was no more. You saw a man fly away, but you didn’t chase after him. Your mind was on Peter. “Peter where are you!”

You knew Peter would do something like this. So the moment your father had yelled at Peter with you on his side, you made sure that your little spy fly followed him around (obviously not when it was private stuff like the bathroom) just to make sure he was alright and wouldn’t do something reckless.

So when your little tech detected Peter running away from his Homecoming night in a suit, you of course followed him.

You hear a little groan and ran to the source. Your hands flew to your mouth as you saw Peter on the floor, stacks of buildings on his back.

“Oh no, Peter,” you mumbled, your eyes welling up. You ran to his side, trying to push the building and rubble away from his body, but you weren’t strong enough. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned out, tears filling his eyes. “You have to leave me and catch him. He’s after the quinjet-“

“No! I’m not leaving you to slowly die! Got it Parker?” You told him. You sighed, looking around before your eyes fell back on him. “Okay, you have super strength right? Just push it up. Right there.”

You pointed at a specific spot. “If you can move that spot, everything else will move with it and you’ll be free.”

Peter tried but couldn’t. It was too heavy. Tears kept flowing down his face, fearing death. “Please Y/N, just go. There’s no use.”

“No,” you shook your head at him, going to the floor and grabbing his chin so he’d look at you, but his eyes just wouldn’t reach yours.

“Look at me,” you spoke softly. He put a let out a little sob, shaking his head. “Look at me Peter!”

He finally looked at you, and you smiled at him. A smile that told him everything will be alright, even if he was in a shitty position.

“If the world brings you down. If you are contantly pushed and pummeled to the floor. If you ever want to give up Peter. Just look me in the eyes and know I’m always there.”

Peter’s face was filled determination as he looked you in the eyes. Y/N Stark, the girl he fell in love with. Y/N Stark the only girl he would ever learn to love.

So then he pushed.

“Yes!” You encouraged him, laughing in joy as the building on top of Peter continued to move up. But Peter’s face didn’t change. He kept staring into your eyes.

“Look me in the eyes and know I’m always there,” he thought as he continued looking at you.

The door of the bathroom opened, signalling that Peter was done getting changed. You shook the thought of what could’ve happened out of your head and put on a smile.

“You ready Spidey?” You asked at him, giving him a little wink. You walked away before you could see his shocked and red face. “We have to jump out of the plane in T minus one minute.”

You go near the door of the quinjet, opening it. The wind blows your hair as you look at the miles and miles of grass.

“Go in. Save some refugees from terrorists. Get out,” you reminded Peter, rubbing your wrist from the absent feeling of the quantum bands. “Easy right?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, moving towards you to look down. His fear of heights were getting the better of him as he felt like backing out. ���Easy.”

You sensed his nervousness and from the look he gave at the distant between the quinjet and the ground, you knew why.

You smiled at him, grabbing his hand. This made Peter feel at ease, giving you a small smile too. “Hey, remember what I said. If you ever feel like giving up, just look at me and know I’m there.”

Peter squeezed your hand, looking at you with adoration. The intensity of his eyes made you look away.

“I know.”

‘Y/N you’re 20, he’s 16,’ you mentally yelled at yourself. ‘He’s you’re little brother and your his older sister you idiot.’

“Y/N?” Peter asked as he saw a distant look in your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You quickly let go of his hand, and bit your lip as you looked at the ground. “Couldn’t be better.”

Peter nodded, already missing the feeling of your hand around his. As cliche as it sounded, it really did cure his fear of heights for that brief moment.

But now that the warmth of your hand was missing, his fear came back and bile threatened to come out.

“Are you ready?” you asked, as you neared the edge of the quinjet. Peter looked into your eyes, and nodded.

‘Know that I’m always there’

“Im ready.”

-

This wasn’t how this mission was meant to be. There wasn’t meant to be altered soldiers on this mission. There wasn’t meant to be mutants on the scene.

But here you were, fighting a mutant as strong as Captain America himself.

“Peter are you okay?” You asked through the comms, worried about Peter even though you just finished putting a mutant into a coma.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Peter breathed heavily, sounding like he had a fair share of mutants. “We- we need to get the refugees out.”

“No! Not you!” You yelled through the comms, as you marched towards the village. “I have the tech. You go back to the quinjet and prepare for the refugees!”

“Are you serious right now Y/N?” You heard Peter yell at you. He was swinging passed terrorist, shooting webs at them before they could shoot him. “There is no way in hell I’m leaving you with-“

All the sudden Peter went quiet. It was a short secound, when all the hairs on his body stood up. His skin was tingling and he felt his throat clog up.

He felt sick. Sick to his stomach. He felt his lips quiver and his hands begun to tremble as he spoke on the comms.

“Y/N, duck.”

You didn’t understand why he told you to duck. He wasn’t even near you, let alone see you. You don’t know why he would utter those random words.

But then you realised; his spider senses.

You looked to your right and saw a man smiling sadistically at you as he had a gun pointing at you. It all occurred in slow motion, in a span of three secounds.

And in that three secounds, Peter was rapidly moving towards you the moment a hair on his arm stood up. He had to make it to you, he had to. He kept swinging, fighting terrorists at the same time.

He was moving as fast as he could, his mind only on getting you to safety.

But it was too late. You were shot. Right in the heart. And Peter was forced to listen to the shot in the comms.

“No, no, no, no,” Peter mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally made it to your location. He saw someone with his gun smoking and quickly electrocuted him with his web.

He then looked at you and that’s when he lost it.

Your chest was bleeding and life was slowly leaving your body. You looked at him, blood dripping down your mouth. “P-Peter?”

“Hey Y/N,” he spoke, running towards your side as he picked you up bridal style. He lips started quivering as he wiped the blood off your mouth with his suit. “Hey Y/N, Hey. Keep your eyes open for me, please.”

You looked at him, a smile on your face. “Pete. I-It’s okay.”

Peter shook his head, tears streaming down his face profusely as he struggled to keep his body from not shaking. “No, no, no you can’t say that remember, you said that if you ever want to give up-“

“Peter-“

“To just look into your eyes and know,” he sniffed as a sob raked his body. “Know that your always there. Well, I’m always there. And you can’t give up on me. You can’t.”

“Peter,” you whispered, grabbing his cheek, making him look at you. “Take care of my Dad. D-don’t let him- don’t- you can’t- you can’t let him- let him slowly kill himse- you can’t-“

You stopped talking, as your soul left your body. Your hand fell from Peter’s face as both your mouth and eyes were wide open. Blood stopped leaking from your mouth and chest, and your face was pale.

“Y/N?” Peter spoke, his voice trembling as his hand shakily moved a piece of hair from your face. “Y/N! Y/N no please! Please, please, please. Don’t- don’t go. Let’s- let’s go home. I wanna go home.”

Peter held you tight for three hours.

He had told Karen to get Tony’s little robots to guide refugees into the Quinjet and get them to safety. When he thought it was time to leave you, he couldn’t. Peter could never leave you.

Tony even called Peter but Peter denied it. Of course, this had Tony anxious, but then Rhoudey tried to reassure him that maybe everything was okay and that they can’t call during a mission.

Peter was in hysteria. He didn’t even get the chance to tell you he loved you. Didn’t even get the chance to take you out on a date.

He thought he was going to regret this for the rest of his life.

But then, the hairs on his arms stood up once again. His breath hitched and his heart starting beating erratically.

Because he heard your heart beat.

And now his heart beat had synchronised with yours.

You had opened your eyes, looking at him all dazed.

Then Peter had realised you had stopped bleading for a while now.

And it was all because of your new suit

[mjonesing]

9! lyx

I’m so sorry for this, I just love sad songs. Also I think this kinda happened in a show I watched but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was? Let me know if you recognise it.

Your broken heart requires all of my attention

“Hey you, come over and let me embrace you.

I know that I'm causing you pain too.

But remember if you need to cry,

I'm here to wipe your eyes.”

It’s a mutual decision, they tell everyone. A rational, fair and evaluated choice to part ways amicably before they get torn apart by distance or college work or the pain of missing each other every day.

It’s the last week of summer, and they’ve spent every second of it together. Peter’s skin is painted gold from the sun and Michelle’s hair shines. Their fingers are still sticky from the ice cream they shared in the park. Yesterday they took the train out of the city and strolled hand-in-hand down fancy streets with lavish houses and sweet smelling gardens. Last week it rained, and they forged a blanket fort in Peter’s living room and made love on top of cookie crumbs.

Today the humidity is off the charts, and Peter and Michelle part ways with a hand shake and watery smiles.

Peter has obligations; responsibilities he can’t leave behind. Michelle is going to a college hundreds of miles away, her dream since she was a little girl.

It just makes sense.

Ned thinks that’s bullshit. He tells them so - in separate calls, because that’s what they are now; separated - shaking his head and muttering about how long it’ll last before they give in. Michelle assures him she’s fine, that she’ll be gone in a few days and it’ll make it easier. Peter says they always knew it was coming, and could Ned stop calling him a dumbass, please?

But the darkness arrives with the night, the numbness giving way to a cold spike of but and maybe and what if. Peter climbs out of the window and Michelle slams the door behind her.

New York is alive with happy tourists and tired workers but two teenagers make their way through the throngs with heavy shoulders and heavier hearts. They stand in stark contrast to the crowds, an inky stain smeared through the primary colours of a beautiful painting.

He sees her first. He always sees her. Even when she thought he didn’t.

“MJ?”

She looks up from the cracks in the asphalt to the masked boy perched on a street light above her. Her eyes shine under its light, but not in a way he ever wanted to see.

They end up swinging through the streets to their favourite spot, a quiet rooftop with pretty views and the smell of fresh bread at every hour. She clings to him but it’s different. This time is the first she doesn’t scream.

On the roof, Peter lets her go but Michelle doesn’t. Her arms are tight around his shoulders, nose pressed into his neck so she can smell the strange mix of sweat, body wash and that weird tinge of technology. He relaxes after a moment, holding her close.

“It’s not fair,” he mumbles into her hair. “It’s not fair.”

Her tears leak into the fabric of his suit. “I was sitting at home crying and I wanted so badly to talk to you, but I couldn’t. Best friends are supposed to help you through a break up but... What do you do when it’s your best friend you’ve broken up with?”

Peter cups her cheek and pulls back to brush away the tears staining her cheeks. “All I wanted was to talk to you about it. And I missed you. I missed you so much.”

She steels herself, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips as Peter holds her tighter. “Are we doing the right thing? What if... what if this is a mistake?”

He frowns. “We had so many reasons. You even calculated the probability of -“

“Fuck statistics. Why do we have to make ourselves just another number?” Her hand strokes over his chest, feeling his hummingbird heartbeat beneath her palm. “Maybe we can beat the odds.”

“MJ,” he says cautiously, something a little like hope in his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, what if we don’t break each other’s hearts?”

Peter exhales. He smiles. “Okay.”

Spotify Shuffle Game - Send me a number!

[rirah1writes]

Chapter two

Patience and Penitence.

A/N: Chapter two. I’m actually loving the plot behind this series and I hope I can stay as true to the comics as possible. I hope everyone reading enjoys. P.s. Don't be afraid to message me with suggestions or requests for the next chapter. Much loveee!

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff (Smut {*Very Soon*} in future chapters) 

Summary: Tony and peter draw some conclusions,  y/n is very clumsy and also very late to class, and Peter decides its time to face up and make an appearance. 

Read Chapter One here

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penitence; (noun): The action of feeling or showing sorrow and regret for having done wrong; Repentance. 

“Were fucked how...wait why?” Peter breathed in deeply and ran his hands through his curls. He thought back to you when you would ask him questions about your physics assignments and how patient he would try to be to help you understand. 

Be patient.

“These...beings...are using us as hosts. Think about this like...an organ transplant or a blood transfusion.” Peter was stumbling over his words, trying to make sense of it himself when really, he had a feeling they had only just scratched the surface. “If it's not the right type, then it won’t work, yeah?” Tony nodded. “I get it, kid, I’m a mechanic not a dumbass, these aliens aren't compatible with the people they're trying to feed off of, so, therefore...they die.” Peter breathed out. “Exactly.” his eyes began lulling back, exhaustion was just now hitting him, despite the intriguing discovery they were making. 

“So the one that attacked you...Didn’t deem you a suitable host?” Tony looked at peter up and back down. “Not to be weird, but I find that hard to believe.” Peter furrowed his brow and chuckled softly. “Meaning?” he grumbled out as he leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes. “Think about it, you regenerate and recover thrice the normal rate of any human, I’ve seen you stop a bus with your bare hands, lift an airplane terminal, and hold together a ferry that was split in half. So if I was a symbiote...I’d, ya know...get up in that.” Peter laughed and his head fell in his hands as he tried to ponder what had happened.

San Francisco wouldn't be so bad for a week. y/n was stressed out anyways from finals and Fury had said he needed help with some intel they had gathered about the Life Foundation, harboring foreign lifeforms, and they needed to be confiscated from the “Rather stubborn” CEO, Dr. Carlton Drake. “Nothing some goddamn force can’t fix. Besides, your Ironman and Spider boy, and I'm Nick-fuckin’-Fury what can go wrong?” Peter grumbled under his breath “It’s spider- MAN” and Tony shot him a warning look as they neared the highway gate.  

Getting through to the front entrance was easy enough, (Nick was very convincing) and up to the labs was a treat until push came to shove and Dr. Drake refused, as Peter expected he would, to give up his “Life's work” The next thing he knew, guns were being fired, webs were being shot, one blast from Tony’s suit, and three symbiotes had escaped. 

Peter couldn't remember much of how it happened, only that he felt as if his skin was meshing, bonding with something unnatural. Next came a burning heat and impending hunger, an unfillable void. Tony was quick to get him to their jet a mile away, but as the engines revved up, a searing pain shot through his entire being, and then moments later...a a sweet release, no more pain. 

“Tony, you know, I don't think they like loud noise...You’re right. The symbiote did want to get inside of me.” Stark shifted and gave peter a disapproving look. “No, all jokes aside, I would have made a more than suitable host, but the noise from the engines drove it out, its like...harmful to them.” Tony nodded slowly. “Makes plenty of sense kid, but listen if I don't sleep soon I’m sure ill literally die.” Peter nodded, studying his mentor and longtime friend. His eyes were glassy, his hands looked worn from many years of work and tinkering, and his face was hollow looking from a lack of sleep. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. You look like shit.” Tony’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Ugh... ‘Mr. Stark’? You haven't called me that since you were fifteen. Don't say that ever again.” They both laughed and then slowly fell into silence, both mulling over their thoughts. 

“And will you be crashing here for a couple of hours, or sleeping on the rooftop of the abandoned building across Fifth Avenue?” Peter was yanked back to reality by the shock of his question, he stared blankly at Tony. “I know you sleep there every night, kiddo. But if you would just go and talk to her you wouldn't have to.” Peter thought seriously about these words. “Nah...It’s not safe yet, I don't know if that thing is coming back for me, I don't want to put her in danger. The time will come.” He rocked his head back, thinking of you, safe in your bed, curled up without him. “When exactly is that Pete? After she’s found another man?” Peter mulled over those words. 

When she’s found another man...Maybe she’s safe in her bed in another mans arms...

But why wouldn't she move on? y/n was a beautiful woman, and every day that passed was a day Peter was teaching her to live without him. He closed his eyes because he felt tears begin to well up, the hurt and guilt ate away at him, but he couldn't let Tony see this, he already knew, he didn't need to see it as well. Tony stood up patting a hand on his shoulder. “You should go talk to May. Your strangely fine aunt might have some good advice.” Peter stood up and followed Tony into the foyer. The sun was peeking into the sky now and casting hues of beautiful mandarin, crimson red, and pink. “Oh what you talk to Aunt May now?” Peter joked. “Have been for a while” Tony turned around and winked. “Just kidding, but really go see your aunt. She used to talk to y/n all the time when you first moved to San Fran, now that you’re back she’ll be glad to see you...she’ll have a lot to fill you in on.”

Peter was confused as Tony spoke in riddles but he paid it no mind, he was too tired to care about anything except sleeping. Pulling his suit back on, he heard Tony holler over his shoulders “Night, kid.” This was amusing considering the early hour, but Peter and Tony didn't seem to have a set schedule for sleep these days. He swung out over the terrace and weaved between the buildings until he neared their familiar old apartment, the same one May swore shed never leave, not unless she got married. Peter climbed up the brick, and slipped into his old bedroom, scowling silently about the window being unlocked, but he decided not to fuss, May was expecting him. Slipping out of his suit and into his bed, Peter let himself rest for the first time in months, his thoughts drifting to you. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of bacon stirred peter from his sleep. He was sure he had dreamt of you. Soft remnants, a silky kiss you had placed over his lips, whispering something he wasn't able to remember. Sweet nothings. He pushed his eyes open fully now, fingers tracing his lips, they were hot and swollen, as if yours had actually been there. Looking at the clock next to him he realized he had slept an entire day, all the way into the next morning. Slowly stretching out of bed he gazed over at his dresser and saw a framed picture you had got for him one year on his birthday. A keen smile spread across his lips as he studied how wide your grin had been, and how genuine your laugh was, so genuine that your cute nose scrunched up and your eyes were closed tight. 

I want to see you laugh like that again...

“Peter, are you awake?” He was jarred from his memories of you, walking over and pulling the bedroom door, he saw may looming in the kitchen in her oversized tee, and biker shorts, her hair was thrown back into a bun, and she was squelching and giggling as the grease popped at her. “Turn the heat down a little, May.” She whipped around and grinned wildly at him. “Peter, just look at you!” She carried on as she threw her arms around him, bantering about how much she’d missed him and why he didn't call more. Peter took his seat at the table, running his hands through his untamed curls. “I would have been back sooner, but I had to make sure it was safe.” May nodded understandingly, she knew all about what was going on, everything that had happened. “And how is y/n?” her tone became soft, peter knew this was because she already knew the answer: Not good. 

“I don't know may...I haven't actually talked to her yet.” She curled her lip as she shook her head disapprovingly. “I raised you better than that...Sitting out on that damn abandoned building day and night, but you won’t go talk to her, let her know you’re alive and okay...it’s cruel Peter.” Her words were like daggers to him, piercing his heart, even though he knew they were marred with love and care. “How do you know I sit out there every day and night huh?” He questioned her, apparently she and Tony had been talking. “Happy told me.” Her answer was simple and it made Peter raise an eyebrow at her. “Oh did he now?” A childlike grin came over his face, as may shood him off. “Oh, that's none of your business. And in any case, stop changing the subject, you need to go see her Peter, it's not fair.” He shook his head. “Not yet May, it's not safe...” Peter was shocked when she threw the pan down into the sink with a loud thud and whipped around at him.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, you’re starting to sound like you dad. If it wasn't safe you wouldn't be here right now.” All that Peter could do was stare in shock. It had been such a long time since she had raised her voice at him. “You left her in the middle of the night, giving her a one-sentenced note. No texts, no calls, nothing to show for four years with that girl. She was over here every night for the longest time crying and wondering where you went, and I had to lie to her for you.” Peter’s heart fell at the image of you sitting at May’s kitchen table, crying as she rubbed your back and poured you tea. May was a true caregiver at heart. “Now its time for you to go tell her the truth. Forget your secret identity, forget the symbiotes. And just tell her the truth, Peter.” He knew she only told him for his own good, but he didn't even know how to begin to tell you the truth. “I don't know how to do it May! I can't just waltz up to her and say ‘Hey I’m Spiderman, yeah I lied to you about that for four years, oh also I ran away for a year because I had an alien lifeform trying to possess me and kill everyone.’ I mean, that just doesn’t work.” 

May shot him a look, but he could tell she was attempting to be understanding. “Alright, Peter do what you think is best.” Peter sighed relief. He did plan on telling you, just in a way he knew you could process it. “But, don't come crying when she finally moves on. Better for her to know the truth than think you just don't give a damn, so she finds another man...MJ tells me a boy from her Criminology class really has the hots for her his name is Justin, James...? Something like that...rumor has it he’s not bad looking either.” Peter knew May was doing this on purpose, but all the same, he felt his face grew hot, he turned to get up and go shower. “Where you going, Pete?” She called out after him as he stormed out of the kitchen. “To take a shower and look presentable, if I’m going to talk to y/n I’m not going looking like this.” May smiled slyly to herself as he continued to grumble and slammed shut the bathroom door. He had always wondered if you had moved on and found another man, but hearing a name made everything real, and Peter would be damned if another man would be cozying up to his princess at night. All he could do is explain everything to you, lay all the truth out on the table, and hope you would forgive him. I need her forgiveness, but even more, I need to express my remorse. 

Peter thought back to all the nights he laid alone in bed, tangled in cold sheets, missing you. Guilt shot from his chest and left a knot in his throat as he pondered how you must have felt in the same condition, not knowing or understanding a thing about why he had vanished. He let the steaming water pour over his skin as his thoughts raced, one lone word recurring in his mind.

Penitence. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit” You cursed under your breath as you tripped over absolutely nothing and sloshed coffee onto your white tee. Not that you were surprised because being a tad clumsy came to you naturally. Getting to class this morning had been a struggle. The universe seemed to be working against you, as it normally did when one was double majoring. You kept mulling over in your head your schedule for the day. Criminology at nine, lunch by twelve probably from Delmar's, probably on the go, next class by one-thirty, then ill go home and study, later to the grocery store...Internally planning was one way you kept your mind busy. And with everything you had going on, your thoughts had been able to stay away from Peter for the past week. You suddenly felt someone walking next to you and it caused your head to snap up, breaking your concentration, and causing you to drop the whole cup. “Fuck...” you cursed under your breath, glancing next to you. 

Oh god, here we fucking go...

“Hey y/n. Need a hand?” Justin smiled at you slyly. Always with the sexual undertones, as if he wanted to eat you right there in the sidewalk. Disgusting. Just be nice maybe he’ll go away. “Hi Justin. How are you?” you forced out a greeting, bending down to pick up the paper cup, you could feel his eyes gazing at your backside. Refusing to meet his predatory eyes, you stood back up straight and continued to walk, throwing your hair over your shoulder. “Well, I’m better now.” You hoped you hadn’t visibly cringed. you crossed your arms over your chest defensively and attempted to scoot away from him, but he just closed the gap and wrapped his arm over your shoulder. You squirmed underneath him, internally screaming for him to let you go. “So when are you going to let me show you a good time?” He gazed down and winked at you, his piercing blue eyes were beautiful, but you preferred deep, chocolate brown ones, soft eyes, loving eyes. Not ones that were stripping you naked in their imagination. “Uhh...Ex-excuse me?” You glared up at him, squirming from under his shoulder. “You know, like let me take you to dinner or a movie.” You breathed a sigh of relief, perhaps a little too soon, because he stepped closer, moving a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. 

Boy, would peter had ripped his hand off if he had seen this...

 “Or...you could come over to my place and we could drink some wine...you know watch a film indoors instead...” His voice trailed off and you could feel his breath. “Uh, that's not going to happen, Justin.” you pushed away from him, but low-and-behold he was right after your heels. “Why not, still waiting on Physics boy to move back?” His words stopped you dead in his tracks, you whirled around looking him directly in his handsome features, breathing ragged. “Don’t talk to me anymore.” was all you could choke out, before whipping around and leaving him standing alone, moving quickly towards the Criminal Justice department. 

Your cheeks were brimming red, and his head was hot. He had no idea what you had been through. How dare he be so presumptuous. You pulled out your phone to text M.J. that you were there, just late. There was someone standing right in the doorway, you could tell from a distance, they were peering out the glass at you. Has this guy been watching me..?  No that was absurd. He was probably just peering out at the sky. There had been a lot of rain this fall, and the vastness above you was scattered with dark clouds, threatening to open up and rain for the third time this week. The figure receded back into the hall as you got closer, and you swung the door open, thankful for the warm air on your cold hands. You rubbed them together, then peered around for M.J. She was probably already down the hall in the lecture. Before you could start to head that way, someone stepped in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. 

Brown eyes. Those brown eyes you know so well. Boring into you, halting your whole world. Bringing it to a still. Freckles decoratively speckled a perfectly shaped nose, right above those gentle lips, the same lips you shared so many conversations with, swept with your own, talking in tongues, and groans, and grunts of passion. In less than a second, you took in his whole face, his entire appearance in your eyes. In your soul. The sun had kissed his skin for every one you weren't able to give him. Glowing and royal, strong and beautiful. He’s talking to you, but you can't hear a thing. Nothing. You forgot how to breathe. After all, your breath was his, every breath you drew you’d gladly gave away to him. He had just stolen yours away, like he had the last year of your life. Was he asking you if you were okay? Asking you to sit down and breathe? You were still unable to make sense of a single word out of his mouth. “What the fuck?” was the last phrase you could utter out before your knees gave out and you fell to your ass on the floor. Peter had caught you by the arm, pulling you back up into him, and carrying you into an empty study room off to the side, sitting you on a chair, kneeling in front of you. Still complete silence, all around you. Unable to hear a thing, only to see those beautiful lips moving. 

Then he touched your face, and you started to gain back your focus. “This isn't real...” was all you could manage. “Yes it is, babe I’m right here.” You heard his voice. For the first time in over a year, you could hear him, crystal clear. Not just in dreams, or in voicemails he had left you that you were never able to dispose of. His actual voice, one that belonged to an angel. 

My angel.  

“You left me.” You were shaking violently. So many thoughts were bounding through your mind, but all you could say to peter was ‘you left me.’ And it said everything that needed to be said. Unable to mask all of your emotions, also unable to keep your hands off of his face. Feeling him, his features. You had longed to touch him for so long, wondered if he was still alive and okay, and now as your hands played over his cheeks, his jawline and nose, he was so real to you. So alive. 

“I did...and I can’t fix what I did, but babygirl I can tell you why...I owe you that, well so much more than that princess...Let’s just get you home and I can explain everything, okay?” You shook your head slowly. “Wait but I have class? and M.J...” Peter put his hand to your lips and hushed your banter. “Shh its okay, y/n don't worry about class, MJ will be fine, this is very important. Just come home with me.” He stood up reaching for your hand, which you offered him willingly. Home. Our apartment that we shared together, he still considers me home. “Okay.” You nodded rapidly as Peter helped you stand, and guided you out the door, towards the apartment. The cold air hit you like a wall and thunder began to rumble slowly over the sky. But nothing mattered, because Peter was at your side, holding tightly your hand. Shock still ravaged your mind and body, but you would have all of your answers. Every night you laid and cried and wondered alone, you would finally have closure. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[send-me-your-hcs]

Forever Ch20

Collab fic with @ceratonia-siliqua (check their blog next week for the next chapter!)

Read on ao3

Warnings: Unhealthy/codependent relationship, possessive behavior, dark themes, check ao3 for additional warnings.

This had been the longest twelve days of Bucky’s entire life.

And that was really saying something, considering he’d spent ten years in prison, most of it confined to an 8 by 10 windowless box. Bucky wasn’t unfamiliar with the arduous, monotonous dredge of just plain existing. But for some reason, the sting of being away from Peter - of his lover being out of his sight for so long - made Bucky’s skin crawl, his teeth ache. He felt like an addict going through withdrawals. He couldn’t keep his cool, which was an absolutely necessity for a hitman on a mission.

Thankfully, he was a pro. He took out three of the targets on Pierce’s list without a hiccup, crossing five states by the time he’d finished all the clean-up. He called Pierce on his way back to Indiana, stoically accepting the man’s brief approval, before he was urged to carry on with the rest of his list, whilst being assured that more names would be added soon.

Bucky brazenly informed Pierce that he would be spending some more time at home before heading west to take care of the other dozen names on his list, and hung up before Pierce could so much as comment on it. He wasn’t in the mood to face the man’s ire.

He couldn’t be bothered.

Because he was heading home, to Peter.

—

His excitement and joy lasted right up until the moment he drove around the last sharp turn in their driveway and saw another car parked out front. He almost hit the brakes in his shock, but the feeling was quickly replaced with dread. Whoever was here, Peter had let him in.

Bucky cursed himself as he hastily parked the car. He should have listened to his instincts. He should have locked the doors when he left. Even if it would have been tough explaining the situation to Peter afterwards, at least the boy wouldn’t have been able to let someone into their goddamn home.

He didn’t bother stopping to grab his bags as he bolted from the car and leapt up the porch steps. His heart was racing, half-panicked and half-enraged to think that he might be too late; that someone might have ratted them out and taken this from him, this life he had literally killed for. His heart was in his throat as he threw the door open, a torrential ocean raging underneath the calm guise he wore on his face.

He stopped dead when he stepped inside.

Steve’s back was obscuring his view, taking up almost the entire width of the narrow mudroom where he stood. He turned to look at him as the door opened, and there, behind Steve in the open doorway to the rest of the house, was Peter. The boy looked distinctly uncomfortable, but thankfully, that was all – no panicked tears, no pleading sobs, nothing. Bucky almost sighed with relief until he noticed the way Steve was staring at him.

“What are you doing here?”

If possible, the stink-eye on Steve’s face quadrupled. Bucky could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen his friend look so offended. “What am I doing here? Bucky.” Steve reeled back with one arm and pointed at Peter, accusingly. “What is he doing here?”

“He lives here. We live together, Steve.”

“Do you,” Steve said, a question with no punctuation mark. “Well thank God for that, because the rest of the world is in knots convinced that Peter was abducted by a rapist.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Would you rather he was?”

“I’d rather you weren’t involved at all!”

“Steve,” Peter called, placating. “Please, give us a chance to explain. I swear this isn’t what it looks like. Why don’t you come in? We can sit and talk this through, just give us a chance.”

Steve turned and looked at Peter like he was seeing him for the first time, and in a way, Bucky supposed he was. He had only ever known the boy as the son, the baby Stark, Tony Stark’s prized and private little prince. He never knew him as a person, an adult, someone old and wise enough to make his own decisions and handle the consequences that came along with them. Some of the doubt lessened when Steve looked at Peter then, and Bucky’s heart swelled with how much he loved this perfect boy.

“Fine,” Steve said, after a long and tense silence. “Let’s sit and talk.”

Peter led them down the hall, into the finally fully-furnished living room. Bucky snuck glances at the finishing touches Peter had applied while he was gone; the art he had hung, the plants he had re-potted and placed here and there for decoration. It looked good. Homey. It looked like the opposite of what he imagined Peter’s living room looked like growing up, and something about that made his chest feel warm.

Peter took a seat on the couch and smiled as Bucky sat next to him. Steve’s jaw clenched as Bucky wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and pulled him flush against his side, kissing his temple below his unruly curls, and pointedly looked away as he took his own seat on the armchair by the window.

“Okay,” he said, sharp and authoritative and every bit the cop he should have been. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, fixing them with a cold stare. “Start talking.”

Bucky kissed Peter’s hair again to let him know everything was okay, then pulled back and said, “We didn’t have a choice, Stevie.”

“Don’t Stevie me. Not now. And don’t bullshit me either, Bucky. There are millions of other ways you two could have handled this. Tony is out of his mind with worry!”

Peter flinched at that, and Bucky took his knee, rubbing slow, gentle circles into the top of his thigh to soothe him. “I know. And neither one of us is happy about that. You know me, Steve. You think I wanted to cause a nationwide panic? That wasn’t our intention.” He wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders, drew him in. “But Peter wanted to come with me and his dad – his dad would have used every one of his multiple-billions of dollars to stop us if he knew that. We had no choice.”

“You don’t know that,” Steve argued. Bucky could tell he was doing everything he could not to yell. “You never gave him a chance to do anything else, Bucky. You just took his son without a word to anyone and ferried him 800 miles away. You’ve condemned yourself – how can you not see that?”

Peter’s body went from tense to rigid as Steve spoke. Bucky could feel him coiled tight, like a spring ready to shoot up at any moment. He barely caught the cold, steely look on the boy’s face before Peter was near-shouting, “Steve, this isn’t Bucky’s fault!”

Steve wasn’t one to balk during an argument. His ability to remain stoic in the face of backchat was one of his most admirable features, especially in their younger years. But something about Peter snapping at him seemed to take him aback, and he straightened up his posture and tore his gaze away from Bucky, looking laughably lost for words.

Peter, on the other hand, looked wound tight and ready to blow. Bucky’s heart clenched at the hurt look on the boy’s face. He never wanted to see his boy look like that, it crushed him. He gently pulled Peter into his side and stroked his leg with his metal hand, soothing him. “Baby. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Peter said, before Steve got the chance to. “He’s just like my dad. He thinks – he thinks I’m a child. He thinks you took me, Bucky. He doesn’t even know us.”

“I know,” Bucky said, comforting. “But that’s why we’re talking it out. Right? Steve is my friend, baby. I’ve known him since he was smaller than you. He’ll understand.”

Steve didn’t bother trying to hide the doubtful look on his face, but he politely said nothing as Peter took a deep breath, in and out. Bucky just kept holding him, trying not to be openly resentful of the fact that Steve was here, thwarting him from having Peter right on this very couch.

After another deep breath, Peter’s shoulders relaxed beneath Bucky’s arm and he said, “I know you and my dad are friends, but you don’t know him as well as I do. Even if Bucky wasn’t…even if he hadn’t been released from prison less than two months ago – even if he was closer to my age or, or a girl, or, or whatever – he still wouldn’t have been okay with it. My dad is really overprotective. I mean, you should know that – you didn’t even know I existed until a few months ago. Why do you think that is?”

The look on Steve’s face shifted. Bucky watched, carefully, as the doubt turned inwards, turning on itself. Steve looked like he was momentarily at war with himself, which went right over Peter’s head as the boy kept talking.

“I know my dad loves me. I love him too. And I hate that I’ve hurt him so badly. But I was so isolated, Steve, and it…it was on purpose. My dad doesn’t trust other people, especially when it comes to me. Do you have any idea how many things I’ve never done or, or never gotten to try, just because my dad didn’t think letting me out – with a bodyguard! – was safe enough? And then I met Bucky, and, and – ”

Peter turned to look at him, hurt, overwhelmed, and let Bucky hug him tighter against his side, his hands sweeping down Peter’s arm and up his thigh.

“ – And I knew he wouldn’t get it,” Peter finished, quieter. “He wouldn’t have wanted to get it. He would be against it immediately, without knowing anything about Bucky. He wouldn’t have cared. He…he wouldn’t have cared that we can tell each other anything, or that Bucky would never let anything happen to me. He wouldn’t have cared that we love each other. He wouldn’t have cared that Bucky is – he’s – he’s the best thing that ever happened to me. My dad wouldn’t have cared.”

“But you never gave him a chance, Peter,” Steve said, remarkably gentle, to his credit. “And that isn’t fair. He’s your dad. He deserves better than that.”

“Steve, I know he’s your friend, but from what Peter tells me, this guy was one bad day away from microchipping Peter like a dog. If he knew so much as my name Peter wouldn’t be here. He’d be in New York, in that tower, locked away like a Disney princess, and you know it.”

Steve looked like he had a lot he wanted to say to that, but before he got the chance, Peter said, “If my dad ever bothered to actually talk to me and was open to the idea of me having a relationship with anyone other than himself, this wouldn’t have happened, Steve. Neither of us wanted it to. We wanted to stay in New York. I want to talk to my dad and have a good relationship with him. I miss him. But he was the one who didn’t pay enough attention to me to even realize I had met someone and fallen in love.”

The tears Peter had been fighting to keep in this whole time suddenly overflowed, and he wiped them away, messily, sniffling. “He’s my dad and I love him. But the thing everybody needs to understand is that I’m an adult, and he wasn’t good for me.”

Pride bloomed in Bucky’s chest like a flower opening up for the sun. A few weeks ago, Peter couldn’t even admit that his father had neglected him, let alone that their relationship had been unhealthy. Even after all the conversations they’d had about it, curled up on this very couch, or in bed, or at the dinner table or picnicking by the lake – not to mention the countless conversations through their letters – even after all that, Peter still hadn’t been able to say the words aloud, and here he was, brave enough for the both of them, speaking it into the world for the very first time.

Sniffling again, Peter wiped the mess from his face, leaving dried tear tracks clinging to the flawless skin of his cheeks. “You can love someone and still not be good for them. I know how much my dad loves me and how badly he’s hurting, but I’ve already done as much as I can about it. I wrote him a letter telling him I’m okay, and that just has to be enough for right now Steve, because legally, nobody can make me do anything I don’t want to do, but that wouldn’t stop my dad from trying, or paying someone who doesn’t care. When you love someone, you have to be willing to let them go. I can’t have the relationship that I want with my dad until he understands that.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, stoic, processing, until he finally sighed out a long, frustrated breath and asked, “You wrote him a letter?”

Bucky was glad Steve asked so that he didn’t have to. He knew Peter would, eventually, and supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Peter used the boredom and solace of Bucky being away to finally find the courage. He was dying to know what the letter said. But that could wait until he left for his next mission.

Peter nodded. “It’s hanging by the front door for Bucky to mail the next time he leaves for work. I tried to tell him as much as I could to ease his mind, because I really don’t want him to hurt anymore. But I’m not leaving Bucky. I love him. And he loves me. And we’re happy here and my dad has no right to take that away.”

Steve ran a hand across his face, looking terribly earnest in his distress. Whatever decision Steve came to, right here, right now, would decide whether or not their lifelong friendship had run its course. He loved Steve - as much as he could love anyone who wasn’t Peter - but the man was lawful in the worst of ways, and worst of all, Tony Stark’s friend.

The thought made Bucky’s throat close up. He hated the thought of losing Steve. But he would not lose Peter. “I asked Peter to come with me, Stevie. That’s all. That’s the only crime I’m guilty of.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve half-said, half-sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and unable to even meet his gaze. “I don’t know about this. This is – it’s messed up. I get where you’re coming from Peter, I do, but you’re eighteen years old. And Tony isn’t going to let this go.”

“Exactly,” Bucky said, holding Peter tighter when he whimpered. “He isn’t going to let it go, that’s the whole point. Peter deserves to have a life. He deserves to be with the person he loves, the same as you and me. And until his father can come to grips with that and accept it, this is the way things need to be.”

“Please don’t say anything to him,” Peter added, begging. “Please, Steve. He will follow you everywhere. He’ll find out where you’ve been, by whatever means necessary. He’ll drag me back against my will and pay off anyone who tries to help me. I’m not exaggerating.”

Guilt and shame covered Steve’s face. But eventually, he gave one firm, quick nod, said, “I know you’re not.”

It was like a dam breaking inside Bucky’s chest, releasing all the tension he didn’t know he was carrying. He jostled Peter against his side again and said, “So you won’t tell anyone?”

Normally, a verbal promise wouldn’t be nearly enough for Bucky. But he had known Steve their entire lives, and if there was one truth to Steve and who he was as a human being, it was that he kept his promises, always.

Steve eyed him for a long moment, then looked to Peter, his line of sight following the arm across Peter’s shoulders, bridging their bodies together. The fight seemed to leave him slowly and all at once at the same time, seeping from him and disappearing.

“I want to go on the record and say this is a bad idea and it could go very, very badly, for both of you. I want you to understand that in my opinion, Peter – you should go home and face the music and tell your dad the truth, and give him a chance to screw things up instead of just assuming he will. That’s my two cents. But,” he paused to take a breath, eyes sliding shut, like he didn’t want to face whatever he was about to say. “But, you also have a point, and I know Tony isn’t exactly the most…functional, at times. Peter, you’re only eighteen, but yes, that does make you an adult. And Bucky may be an idiot, but he’s also the best person I know, so at the very least, I know you’re safe here and I believe you when you tell me you’re happy. So in conclusion - though one of you should - no. I won’t tell anyone.”

Peter’s face broke into that gorgeous, dazzling smile, and he looked like he was one beat away from jumping to his feet and launching himself at Steve in a grateful hug. Bucky held him a little firmer, just in case. “Steve, thank you, God, thank you so much.”

Steve returned the boy’s smile, though it was tight-lipped and half-assed. Whatever. It was good enough. His word had always been good enough for Bucky. “You’re welcome. I, um. I had planned to crash on Bucky’s couch for a few days, but…I think I’m going to head home instead. No offense, Buck. This is just a bit too much for me.”

“I get it,” Bucky said, giving his friend a small smile as he stood from the couch. “I know this is a lot, Stevie. You don’t have to explain.”

Steve nodded as he stood as well, letting Bucky lead him through the house and to the door. He stopped to eye the envelope pinned beside it, at Peter’s messy, boyish handwriting scrawling out Tony’s name and address, but with a shake of his head, he let it go, let Bucky politely usher him out the door.

“You be safe, Buck,” Steve said, for just about the millionth time in the course of their friendship. “I’m in even less of a position to help you now than I was back then. Be careful where you plant your feet.”

“I know,” Bucky said. He clapped the other man on the shoulder, sensing Steve really wasn’t in the mood for a full on hug right now. “He makes me happy, Stevie.”

A look washed over Steve’s face that was probably as close to happy as he’d been since Peter answered the door. “I’m glad,” he said, genuinely. “But I’m also worried as all hell.”

Bucky nodded. “I know. I’m keeping us as safe as I can, Steve. You’re just gonna have to trust me here.”

“I do trust you,” Steve said. He headed down the porch steps, not looking away from Bucky as he said, “I’ve always trusted you.”

—

After watching Steve drive away – confirming, to some primal part of himself, that they were alone and safe at last – Bucky went searching for Peter, and found him in the bathroom, washing his face at the sink. He strolled up behind his young lover and drew him into his arms, squeezing him nearly as hard as he could, bending down to bury his face in that soft head of curls.

“I missed you so much,” he said, swaying them side to side a little. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. It wasn’t fully convincing, but he smiled at their reflections and met Bucky’s gaze in the mirror. “I missed you too, Daddy.”

Heat surged through his veins. Bucky felt his chest rumble like a lion getting ready to roar as he sucked in a low, pleased breath. “God, baby. We’ve got quite a bit of lost time to make up for, don’t you think?” He bent and kissed Peter’s slim neck, nipping at it lightly just to feel the boy squirm. “You still want me to take you dancin’?”

Peter giggled and writhed in his hold, but was totally, effortlessly caught. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night,” he said, turning his head to leave sweet, chaste little kisses across Bucky’s jaw, up to his cheek. “I just want to be alone with you right now.”

Bucky smiled, looped an arm beneath Peter’s knees and lifted him from the ground in one swift motion. Peter wrapped his scrawny arms around his neck and clung to him adorably as Bucky pressed their lips together, carrying him from the room and up the stairs.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Cadmus

This literally took multiple months to write. I hope y’all like it! 

-----------------------------

These days have become more common the last few years. Summer sun shining overhead. Shrieking kids racing around the backyard, throwing water balloons at each other. 18-month-old Laney Kent and 19-month-old Max Wilkes splash in their water table and babble nonsense to each other. Despite the cute swimsuits their mothers tried to dress them in, the two prefer their swim diapers and nothing else.

         “Cha-Cha! Cha-Cha!” Laney waves to her big sister as she runs by.

“Hi, Loo-Loo!” Charlie blows her a kiss and shrieks as her best friend tackles her. “Asha!”

“Don’t get distracted, Kent!” Asha teases. She helps her friend up before taking off again. Their parents watch from the back porch, shaking their heads at the gaggle of kids.

“See Asha already does Damian’s ‘call them by their last name’ thing.” Milagro bumps Irey’s hip with hers. Irey sticks her tongue out at the Lantern, grabbing a glass of lemonade as Damian walks by.

“Like how Max and Ben do Colin’s ‘if I smile like this, you won’t be mad’ thing.”

“Sh!” Colin gestures to Irey to stop, “She doesn’t need to know that, Ires!”

“Wilkes, you did that to Father once and thought it would work.” Damian points out.

“It technically worked on him. Alfred, on the other hand...” Cracking up at that image, the heroes can’t imagine a worst position to be in.

“To be fair,” Mar’i giggles, “Alfred had to raise my Dad and Jason; so, he’s definitely seen it all.”

They love how common these days have become. Reminds them of the past summer days when they were kids. Of course, in the past Damian would never kiss Irey like he does now. Jai would never call Lian babe or say he was going to get something from inside their house. Milagro would never laugh as Colin catches their boys, carrying them over his shoulder, all three of their skins beautifully mismatched. Jon would never wink at Mar’i as he makes some flirty joke, only for her to laugh and remind him that they already have four kids.

Things have changed, in all the best ways possible.

         “Alright, let’s eat!” Lian calls to the kids in the backyard. Jai and Irey disappear with cracks. Mini Omega, as their parents call them, run as fast as they can to avoid the older speedsters. Jai and Irey stop beside the back fence as the kids run to the porch.

         “Mom would love this.” Irey says simply, watching her daughter jump into Damian’s arms. Her husband kisses Asha's freckled face and spins her around.

         “She would.” Jai agrees as his kids crowd around Lian. Her warm laugh at the six hands grabbing at her jeans, babbling at her, makes him fall in love again, “Ok, Sissy, let’s eat.

         As they take a step forward, they feel something hit the middle of their backs. Their cries of pain make their families look up. Horror spreads through the group as the twins’ bodies seize. Eyes rolling back, the two collapse on the ground, taser poles embedded in their backs.

         "Mama!" Asha gasps.

         “Daddy!” Lily and Milly Harper-West speed from the back porch to their father. As the girls reach him, a figure jumps from their big oak tree. “MOMMY!”          “BABY DOLLS!” Lian grabs a plate and throws it at the figure advance on her girls, hitting him in the face, “BACK HERE! GIRLS, RUN BACK HERE!”

         Before the girls can take a step, the fence beside them crashes down. A truck drives through it, hired guns spill out of the back, one of them grabbing the girls.

         “MOOOMMMY!” They struggle in his arms, tears rolling down their faces, reaching for her.

         “OMEGA, GO!” Lian shouts. None of them hesitate. They know what to do. Colin and Damian make the other kids hide under the table, telling them to close their eyes.

The others jump over the railing; Lian grabbing a knife as she goes, Jon and Mar’i flying into the air. Lian runs straight for the goon holding her daughters. Someone swings a baton at her face. Hitting the ground baseball style, Lian stabs his ankle, scrambling to her feet as he goes down. Milagro kicks one away as someone grabs her from behind. Dropping down, she throws him over her shoulder. Sucker punch to a third’s face. Jon and Mar’i grab the hired guns in pairs, knocking their heads together.

That’s when things go wrong.

“Gah!” Jon yells as one of the guns opens a pocket. The bright green rock inside makes his body burn.

“Jon!” Mar’i shouts, watching in horror as her husband falls to the ground. She lands next to him. Their attackers throw caninsters at them and onto the porch. Emmitting a white gas, the heroes know they’re losing. Colin and Damian yell as they’re tased too.

“BABY DOLLS!” Lian’s close enough to touch them when she’s hit from behind. She falls to the ground, head throbbing. The last things she hears are her friends coughing, kids crying, and her children screaming for her.

--

         Hours later, in a cramped room with a military grade door, miles and miles away, Mini Omega tries not to panic. Of course, that’s easier said than done when the average age is six. Any hope they might have of their meta cousins’ powers died when they woke up and saw the power dampening collars.

         "It's okay, Charlie..." Asha tries to soothe her friend. As soon as Charlie and Peter realized what was on them, their minds brought them to the Bad Place. The last place the siblings would want to be.

         "Nonononononononononono," Rocking back and forth, the 11-year-old covers her ears, eyes squeezed painfully tight. Nearby, Ben pulls on the metal collar around Lily's neck.

         "Owie!"

         "Sorry, Lil." He takes his hands away. "It's not gonna come off."

         "Pete?" M&M pokes her big brother's face. Peter sits silently, arms wrapped around his legs, shaking. “Pete?”

         “M&M, are you sure your powers don’t work?” Asha asks the young technopath. Face screaming up in concentration, M&M stares at the collar around her brother’s neck before deflating.

         “They won’t work.”

         “It okay, bubba.” Milly promises, letting Luke lay his head on her little lap. Laney and Max shiver in the corner, babbling away. Too young to know what’s going on. Ben finds a blanket in a pile on the ground. Wrapping it around the youngest two, he hugs his brother.

         The toddler tilts his head, “¿Dónde están Mami y Daddy?”

         “No lo sé, pero estoy seguro de que vendrán a salvarnos.”

         “Ben,” Asha shakes her head, “They have to find us first.”

         “They will.” Ben looks at her, “They promised.”

--

When Lian wakes up, her husband shaking her, the first thing out of her mouth is, “Where are the kids?”

“We’re trying to figure that out, babe.” Jai assures her as he helps her up. Leaning against him, she limps up to the porch. Their friends look about as good as she feels.

Even though it’s been a while, they fall into their normal habits. They circle around the back table. Remnants of their planned dinner litter the ground. Damian nods at Lian, “Good, you’re up. You alright?”

“Killer headache, but I’ll live,” She rubs the back of her head, “What do we have?”

“Mercenaries.” Milagro says, tossing a few weapons on the table, “From the looks of these, I can at least confirm they’re earth based.”

“They knew who they were coming for.” Colin notes. “My question, why didn’t they go for any of us? We’ve got two types of alien and a good variety of metas. Plus, Damian, Lian, and Mil are all experts in their areas of fighting.”

Jon and Mar’i share an uneasy look. Mar’i sighs, “If I had to guess…it was Cadmus.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Do you remember the mission where we found our older kids? Li, I know you were still on leave.” Jon runs a hand through his hair, “We found files that called that particular project Exodus.”

“Exodus?” Mil frowns.

Damian asks, “Does that mean something to you?”

“Well, that’s the chapter with Moses’s story.” She explains, “Just seems strange to choose that for a project trial.”

“Maybe not.” Irey looks at Jon and Mar’i, “Did Charlie tell you all how she got the burn scars on her back?”

“Just that she was told to do a-a trial. She was five, I think?” Mar’i says, “In her file, it said she was locked in a weather room. They wanted to see how different powers would react to extreme weather—”

“‘There was hail and fire flashing continually in the midst of the hail, very heavy hail, such as had never been in all the land of Egypt since it became a nation.’” Colin looks at his wife, “Those fuckers used the plagues for inspiration.”

“None of this tells us how to find them.” Jai points out, “And that information isn’t exactly helping ease the worry.”

“There’s a way to find the kids.” Jon glances at his wife again, then looks down, “Charlie and Peter both have trackers in their legs—”

“WHA—”

“Cadmus put them there.” Mar’i cuts off the others’ panic. “When they were little. M&M didn’t have one, but she was only there a few months. The ones in Charlie and Peter are too close to the femoral artery, and the muscles started growing around it.”

“Is that how they found us?”

“No, Mil. Babs was able to turn them off and regularly checks in.”

They’re quiet only for a moment. Damian plays Devil’s Advocate, “Can she turn them back on?”

Jon nods. “We need to hurry though.”

“Well, duh—”

“Charlie’s powers have started changing.” Jon cuts Jai off. “Her illusions are becoming…real. Last time she had a nightmare…I felt it when one of them touched me.”

The group takes that in. The three leaders look at each other. Then the group. Communicating in a way that nearly two decades of fighting together can give them. Irey nods at Mar’i and Colin, “You two are retired still—”

“If you think some League bullshit’s gonna keep me from saving my sons, you’re dead wrong.”

“Same with my starlings.”

“Everyone have their spare uniform?” Damian asks. The others nod. “Suit up. Mar’i, call Oracle and see if she can activate the trackers. We leave in five minutes.”

--

         The cell door creaks open. Charlie immediately goes silent, though her shaking doesn’t stop. The group of scientists come into the room. There’s four of them—two men and two women— dressed in white coats and donning badges with six letters that Peter and Charlie see in their nightmares. C.A.D.M.U.S. Barely breathing, Peter curls up tighter, Ben scoots in front of him, mismatched eyes meeting the scientists’. Asha glares at them when they glance at Charlie. Then they look at the younger kids.

         “That one.” The lead man points to Laney. “Initial blood tests show signs of Kryptonian and Tamaranean blood.”

         “Really?” One of the women sounds impressed. Laney tilts her head to the side at the woman, blinking her too blue eyes at the group. “She’s still young.”

“Given what we’ve seen people with her lineage do, I’m not sure that matters.”

“In that case we might consider more physical trials—”

         “No!” Charlie jumps to her feet, brown eyes wide. The older kids look at their usually meek friend in shock as she pulls on the lead man’s arm, “Me! Me! I’ll do a trial! Not her!”

         She doesn’t see his hand, but she feels it across her cheek. As Charlie falls to the ground, Asha’s on her feet in an instant, eyes burning. The lead scientist turns on her.

As if a mean glare could stop a girl raised by heroes.

Asha surges forward. Jumping to kick the lead man in the face, rolling over him as he stumbles. Ben helps Charlie up as Asha elbows one of the females’ stomachs, kicking the other in the knee. The second male scientist grabs her dark curls, yanking her backwards.

“You little bitch—” He doesn’t get the chance to finish. Grabbing his wrist, Asha throws him over her.

She blows hair out of her face, grinning at her cousins, “Uncle Jason taught me that when I was 6.”

“The door’s open!” Ben shouts. The kids start to move forward when guards appear. Before they can get too close, alarms start going off.

Alert: Metas have infiltrated the facility. Full evacuation. Repeat. Metas have—

The room shakes as something explodes above them. The twins turn to the guards, narrowing their dark eyes, and growl together, “Mommy and Daddy are gonna kick your asses.”

Being helped by the guards, the four scientists glare at the kids.

“Take her,” The lead male growls, pointing at Asha. “We know she’s Bruce Wayne’s granddaughter. Once we’re on the plane, we can negotiate for her life.”

“No!” Charlie tries to push the guards away as they come for her friend.

“Take her too!”

“NO! ASHA!”

“CHARLIE!”

The kids fight as best they can, but they’re only children. Grabbed around the middle and held tight, Asha and Charlie scream for the others. Peter snaps out of his silence and races after his sister. Then a guard points his weapon at the little boy. Ben jumps in front of Peter, arms held out.

The door slams shut. The screams fade away, replaced by familiar voices a few minutes later.

“STARLINGS!”

“BABY DOLLS!”

“LITTLE MAN, WE’RE HERE!”

         “We’re in here! We’re in here!” Ben shouts as he and Peter band their hands on the door. “We’re in here! Mami! Dad!”

         Familiar faces peer through the window. Even in their hero apparel, the kids would know their parents anywhere.

         “Dad!” Peter shouts, “You have to save Charlie and Asha! The bad people took them! They’re going on a plane!”

         “Jon, Mar’i, Irey, with me!” Damian shouts, “We’ll get the older girls! The rest of you, get the kids to safety.”

         Four sets of feet race off in another direction.

         “Guys! Way from the door!” Lian shouts, "To a side wall!"

         Ben and Peter pull the other kids to the back corner, shouting when they're in position. A brief pause. Then door flies back with a blast of green energy, their parent spilling into the room. As always, the Harper-West kids are the first to move, "Mommy! Daddy!"

         "Baby dolls! Baby Jedi!" Lian catches Lily and Luke as Jai scoops up Milly. The three children cling to their parents, shaking as Jai and Lian check them for any bruises. "It's okay, we're here. Mommy and Daddy got you."

         "Mami!" With his little brother's hand in his, Ben runs to their mother's arms, crying. Milagro catches her boys and holds them close. "Where's Dad?"

         "I'm here, buddy." Colin backs into the room, “We need to go now.”

         “Hallways?” Lian asks, picking Laney up in her other arm.

         “Clear. You all stay behind me.”

         "Okay, guys, let's go! Fast, fast!" With some trading around, the other three get the youngest kids in their arms. Colin clears ahead of them before the group moves on.

         As they round a corner, a group of guards comes out of the elevator. Colin barrels ahead. Much to his sons’ horror. Ben races forward. Only for his mother to grab him around the middle. Max cries in her other arm.

         "DADDY!" Ben fights Milagro. “NO! DADDY!”

         "AAARGH!" Colin's body ripples, muscles swelling and growing as he mutates. The familiar burn hurts more than it had in when he was younger. That doesn’t matter to Colin. All that matters are the people behind him.

Abuse slams into the guards. Throwing them into walls. Into each other. He catches sight of the children looking at him in horror. Ben and Max’s faces. Pushing it down, Abuse keeps fighting. There will be time to explain later. Passing Laney to Jai, Lian draws her bow. An arrow appears in a guard’s leg as he tries to hit Colin from behind.

“Jai, put kids behind me!” Milagro orders. The speedster sets the kids in his arm behind her, lightning dancing under his skin as he races down to join the fight.

“Mami?” Max reaches for his mother as she sets him down.

“It’s gonna be okay, mi amor.” A glowing green dome appears around the kids. Lian at her side, the two women join the fight.

The kids had heard the stories of their parents fighting. Laughed at details that got fought over. Watched their parents spar, tossing playful insults at each other.

But seeing them in a fight is something else.

Lian spins on her heel, firing an arrow into one guard’s shoulder. Swings her bow and smacks another in the face. Someone tries to fire at her, only for the bullet to disappear and the guard crumple to the ground in a flash of lightning. Jai comes in and out of focus, socking guards in the face. His skin ripples with electricity. Abuse throws a guard to his wife, who slams her fist into his face. Milagro grabs a wrist and flips the man over her shoulder.

All the time maintaining her concentration to protect the kids.

In a few minutes, the area’s clear. The dome dissipates, parents reaching for their kids. Abuse lumbers ahead again. He needs to focus, and seeing his boys horrified faces, knowing they must hate him. No. Worse. They must be afraid of him.

         In another part of the facility, a group of guards and scientists struggle to get the two oldest girls onto the plane. For once, Charlie fights back as hard as her cousin. Screaming at the top of their lungs. The collar around Charlie’s neck presses against her burn scars.

         “Let go of me!” Asha bites at the guard holding her. “Let go of me!”

         “Get them on the plane!” A guard snaps. The door below them blasts open. A crack of lightning and two figures fly into the room, a fourth following seconds later.

         “Mama! Baba!”

         “Momma! Daddy! Help!”

         “Girls!” Damian shouts.

         “Freeze!” The guard holding Asha jerks her up. His arm tightens around her neck

         “LET HER GO!”

         “BACK UP OR I KILL HER!”

         “Jon, her collar.” Mar’i murmurs. He sees the collar around their daughter’s neck, but hears her rapid heart beat too.

         “Her powers—"

         “PUT HER DOWN—”

         “BACK UP!”

         “BABA!” Asha screams. Jon hears the gun click.

A split-second decision.

His heat vision cuts through the wiring.

Then all hell breaks loose. With a deafening scream, the guard holding Charlie is pulled away by a twisted claw. Monstrous figures—doctors in blood stained scrubs and sharpened scalpels, headless guards with mangled guns—appear around them. Asha’s guard yells as a doctor slices his gun hand off. In his shock, he drops Asha, who scrambles to the railing.

“GO AWAY, GO AWAY, GO AWAY!” Charlie covers her ears, her voice otherworldly, “I’M NOT GOING BACK!”

The monsters move. Slicing through skin. Firing bullets into heads. Their parents can’t move. Charlie curls up on the ground, still screaming. Pulling away from the railing, Asha crawls under the monsters to her. A body flies over head, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Blood drips down the side of the platform.

As quickly as it starts, it stops. Unfreezing, their parents race to them; Mar’i and Jon flying up to the girls. Asha covers Charlie with her body, both girls shaking.

“It’s okay now. We’re gonna be okay.” Asha promises, protecting her cousin’s head.

--

         A few hours later, in a hospital that specializes with heroes, the kids have been mostly cleared by the doctors. They’ll have to stay the night for observations, but that’s nothing compared to what they could be going through. In an empty hospital room and answering the League’s questions, the three leaders try not to lose their minds.

         “Are you three seriously suggesting we dismiss—”

         Lian cuts the senior hero off, “We’re saying given the circumstances, we made a judgement call.”

         “You three know that family members are not allowed to be on missions to rescue each other—”

         “Given that most heroes are related through marriage at this point,” Damian scowls, “That’s damn near impossible. Our children were in danger. That’s not a matter any of us can simply stand aside for.”

         “More than that, we were attacked in my home.” Lian snips, “I don’t need to remind you all about Thawne taking my children from their beds, do I?”

         “Of course not. This is simply routine.” Wonder Woman assures them, “What about the authorization of Abuse and Nightstar?”

         “Emergency authorization Delta.” Irey taps her foot, “We knew the risks. This isn’t a choice any of us made lightly—”

         “There’s also the matter of Charlotte Kent.”

         Damian scoffs, “Asha’s life was in danger. More than that, the people that kidnapped them are part of the group that kept her captive for her early formative years. If you need her medical files, I’m sure Jon and Mar’i can provide those to confirm her diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

         “So, in your eyes, her killing a dozen people is okay?”

         “In our eyes,” Lian grits her teeth, “Charlie’s a traumatized little girl who lost control of her powers. What happened is horrible, none of us are saying otherwise, but what would you have us do? Throw her in Belle Reve?”

         “No! Of course not! But—”

         “I think,” Irey cuts Hal Jordan off with a cool look, “We reconvene another time. We’ll have our team fill out reports on what happened and provide whatever information we need when we meet. But right now, Lian has three kids that need her, and we have a daughter to check on.”

         Signing off, the three leaders look at each other. Lian rubs her face, “Fuck me.”

         “It will be alright, Lian.” Irey promises, “We did what was right for our kids.”

         “I know, but I keep thinking about what could have happened. Especially to my dolls.” Lian grits her teeth. Damian rests his hand on her shoulder.

         “Like Irey said. They need their mother right now.” He opens the door to the empty room they’d been using.

Across the hall, Milagro and Colin sit on a hospital bed together. Their sons cling to Colin, whimpering. They recognize the pain in his face, but that doesn’t stop him from holding Ben and Max close. Milagro hums softly as she runs her fingers through Max’s hair. The sight makes Colin’s worry during the kids’ checkup seem…misplaced.

In another room, Jai sits with his trio of monsters on one of the hospital beds, half signing. The tension in Lian’s chest loosens seeing all her kids snoozing on their father. Asha naps on the other bed.

“Mama?” Asha yawns, rubbing her eyes as Irey picks her up to settle down with her and Damian. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Bug.” Irey kisses her 11-year-old’s head. “Baba, Aunt Li, and I took care of things.”

“Mommy,” Lily hiccups, reaching for Lian. Picking up both her daughters, she sits next to her husband and their son.

“I’m sorry, baby dolls. I’m sorry the bad people got you earlier.”

“It okay, Mommy,” Milly looks up at her, “We knowed you and Daddy’d save us.”

“Always.” Lian promises, kissing their heads. She holds them tighter, “Daddy and I will always save you.”

         While the other families reunite, and their younger children sleep, Mar’i and Jon are having a much harder conversation down the hall.

Charlie sits beside Mar’i, her mother’s hand running through her hair, while Jon sits in a chair in front of her. One of his strong hands holds hers tightly.

         “Charlie. Momma and I need to talk to you. Is that okay?”

         “I guess…” Charlie sniffles.

         “Hey.” Mar’i tilts her head up. “Starling, if this gets to be too much, you tell us. No questions asked. Okay?”

         “Yes, Momma.” Charlie rests her head on Mar’i’s chest. Mar’i and Jon share a look. He takes a deep breath.

         “First, we know you’re scared. We know there’s a lot of confusing stuff in your head. What we need you to know is that we love you and we’re not going anywhere, ok?” Jon waits until she nods, “Okay. That’s the most important thing we need you to know. No matter what we love you.”

         Mar’i strokes Charlie’s hair, “The other kids said…when the bad people came and tried to take Laney, you asked them to take you. That you’d do a trial for her.”

         “Yeah.”

         “Baby, why would you do that?” The burn scars on her back come to mind.

         “’s what we did before.” Charlie mumbles. “Before you saved us…the big kids would protect the little kids. Do more trials. Keep them safe. I did it for Peter before.”

         “Oh, Charlie…” Mar’i hugs her daughter a little tighter.

         “They were gonna hurt her, Momma.” Charlie hides her face. “They were gonna hurt Loo-Loo.”

         They stay quiet and listen to her cry into Mar’i’s shirt. The dark bruise on Charlie’s pale cheek makes their stomachs churn. Makes them want to go out and take Cadmus down by themselves. But they stay where they’re needed for now.

         “Baby,” Mar’i kisses Charlie’s head, “We need to talk to you about what happened in the hanger.”

         “When I killed those people?”

         “When your powers acted up.” Mar’i corrects. “You know what happened was bad, right?”

         Charlie nods, showing her face to them, “Are they sending me to jail?”

         “No.” Jon speaks firmly. “No. Charlie, what do you think would have happened if your collar didn’t come off?”

         “I dunno…I didn’t want them to hurt Asha.”

         “Why?”

         “She’s my friend, Daddy. They were going to hurt her like they hurt me.” Charlie sniffles, “They were going to kill her.”

         “Charlie, do you know what self-defense is?” Jon asks. Charlie shakes her head, “It’s when someone uses force if they think that they are in danger. What happened in the hanger was self-defense.”

         “I killed them, Daddy.” Charlie whimpers, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I’m a bad person.”

         “Charlotte Elisabeth Kent, you look at me right now.” Mar’i waits until Charlie meets her impossible green eyes. “Your powers made something bad happen. People died. That’s true. But you are not a bad person. Not even close.”

         Charlie wiggles out of Mar’i’s arms, not meeting her parents’ eyes, “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

         Jon nods, “Ok. No more questions. Do you want Momma and I to sta—”

         “I want to be alone.” Charlie squeezes her eyes shut tight.

         “Can Daddy and I tuck—”

         “I want to be alone, Momma.”

         Jon and Mar’i don’t let her see how much that hurts to hear. Mar’i gets off the bed, pulling the sheets back, “Daddy and I are going to check on your siblings. If you need anything, we’re right down the hall. We love you, Charlie.”

         Charlie nods, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. When the door shuts, she opens them. The hospital sheets feel funny as she hides under them. They don’t feel like the ones at home.

         Fresh tears fill her eyes. Home. She doesn’t have a home anymore. Momma and Daddy won’t want her around her brother and sisters. Her brother and sisters are going to hate her. So will her aunties, uncles, and cousins.

         It’s all her fault.

         This is why her tummy Mommy didn't want her.

         “Charlie?”

She didn’t hear the door open, but Asha stands at the foot of her bed. Sitting up, Charlie wipes her tears away. Please don’t let Asha ask. Just let her tell Charlie she’s an awful person and she hates her. It’s what Charlie deserves—

“Chocolate or vanilla?” Asha holds out two pudding cups.

“W-wha—”

“Do you want the chocolate or vanilla? I picked last time.”

“…Halfises?”

Asha smiles. Sitting side by side, the girls trade the cups back and forth. When Asha gets up to throw them away, she notices Charlie curled up on the sheets again. “…Baba did bad things too.”

“Huh?”

“Before he went to live with Jid and met Mama. He did really bad things too.” She shrugs.

“…Why are you telling me that?”

Climbing back onto the bed, Asha says, “Because when Baba told me about the stuff he did, he said he wouldn’t who he is now without people loving him.”

“I could’ve hurt you—”

“I wrestle Gracie all the time. If she hasn’t killed me yet, I think I stand a good chance with you…Do you want me to go?”

Looking down, Charlie shakes her head.

“Can I lay down?”

Nodding, Charlie moves the covers back for Asha to crawl under. Laying in silence for a while, the two just exist together for a while. When their parents check in on them later, they find the two girls sleeping. Asha snores gently, arm flopped over her cousin. Charlie lays curled up. Letting Asha protect her. Neither pair of parents can find it in their hearts to separate the two. Just covers them with an extra blanket and kiss to their heads.

Let them get whatever sleep they can.

[doof-doofblog]

"Will You Do That For Me?"

Monday 9th November 2020

Hello everyone!  Hope you've had a brilliant weekend! Seeing as we've been put into a second lockdown, I have recently been watching EastEnders episodes from 2008 on BBC iPlayer! I have to say there are so many characters I miss, to name a few:- Bradley, Tanya, Roxy, Ronnie, Peggy, Bianca, Ricky, Pat, Christian, Masood, Zainab, Jane ... A lot of these characters I do wish would come back, its a crying shame that some of them have passed away. What do you think guys? What characters from years back would you like to see return? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Anyway, let's get back to the episodes of this week, what a cliff-hanger Friday's episode was left on. I'm really looking forward to seeing what happens next this week, let's delve right into it. This episodes basically starts where Friday's finished, Mick coming face-to-face with his abuser, Katy. Mick is as white as a sheet, he looks like he's seen a ghost as she approaches him. It's interesting how innocent she is acting, but of course how else would she act after seeing him for the first time in so long. She informs him that Shirley had rang her informing that Frankie had been around, the first question out of Mick's mouth is why did she never tell him that Frankie was his daughter, Katy seems a bit shocked to hear this, she the tells Mick that Frankie is 100% NOT his daughter. Now, is she telling the truth? Has Frankie accidentally made a mistake? Depending how long Katy is going to be on the Square for, I can see this storyline be a really hard hitting one for Christmas! Katy suggests to Mick that they sit down have a talk and she makes her way towards the Vic.

As Mick slowly follows Katy into the Vic, the scene changes to Lola alone in her flat. She's just confessed everything to Jay about sleeping with Peter, months back! Honey walks in to find her almost in tears, at first she doesn't realise that anything is wrong as she asks her about her flat deposit, but when she turns to see Lola looking all teary, she asks the poor girl what's wrong. Lola comes clean and confesses that she slept with Peter months ago, she informs Honey that she's told Jay the truth before they moved into their new apartment, but she fears she has ruined everything between them. Honey sits down as she takes in the recent news, she then tries her absolute best to console her, she suggests that maybe Jay has gone to speak to Peter, considering they were best friends, Jay must feel some kind of betrayal from his friend, so perhaps he's gone and spoken to him about it. And she's not wrong - Jay is next scene in Beale household, he's sat with a cup of tea waiting for Peter to appear, poor Bobby has no idea what's happened and he's been left alone with a seething Jay. Jay informs the young lad that he's willing to wait for Peter to show up.

Meanwhile at the Vic, Mick is trying to understand the situation with Frankie. Katy informs him that Franke's father is just a random bloke that she can't even remember the name of. But Mick can't seem to quite understand, as in his mind, regarding Frankie's age and the fact the Katy simply just disappeared all those years back, it would make sense and would fit they she would be his daughter. Katy appears to be shocked at what she's hearing, she then happens to say something very interesting "You have to have sex to have a baby!" - she's implying that they never had sex?! Hmmm ... something really doesn't sit right with me, even Mick recalls of their relationship all those years ago and Katy can't even begin to believe what he's saying. She believes that he's told Frankie about her and that is why she is no longer speaking to her. Is Katy simply lying about their relationship? Is Mick perhaps mistaken? Or is this going to turn into something much darker and Katy is going to deny everything until Mick reveals everything to everyone and she'll be seen as his groomer/abuser.

Out on the Square, Lola finds Peter and admits that she's told Jay about them. Peter is shocked to hear about Lola's confession and informs her that Jay is waiting inside his house for him. Instead of walking into his house and facing the music, he decides to walk the other way, much to Lola's surprise. It's then he informs her that he has a job interview the next day and doesn't want to show up to it with a black eye. Hmm, I think that's a bit of a coward's excuse to not face his best mate and basically admit to his mistake. He can't keep hiding, he'll have to face Jay sooner or later.

Meanwhile, Rainie and Stuart are in the same position as we saw them in the previous episode. Bless them, they had both fallen asleep on the sofa together. Suddenly a bell rings (I instantly thought it was their doorbell) Stuart wakes and he looks at his phone to which then his wife wakes up and asks whether it's anything important. Stuart reassures his wife that it's nothing and he gets himself up to make themselves a cup of tea. As he looks in the fridge, Rainie takes a look at her husbands phone, as he turns round he sees her looking at his phone and she points out that the notification on his phone was a reminder for a visit to the fertility clinic, for the following day. Rainie admits to her husband that because they had booked it so long ago she had forgotten all about it, but Stuart didn't want to remind his wife as he didn't want to upset her. Will they still go this appointment? They both admit to each other that they still want a family, even if it means just being a family of two, but I'm sure deep deep down, both of them would love have a child if there was a way.

In the Vic, Ian is surprised to see his son, considering they haven't been speaking since the family found out about him re-mortgaging the Café and forging Kathy's signature. Peter informs his Dad that he needs to lie-low for a while, yep- he's simply avoiding Peter. Peter makes his way to the upstairs of the Queen Vic with his Dad's acceptance. Meanwhile, over at the Beale household, Lola has found Jay waiting for Peter. She's trying her absolute best to plead to her boyfriend and apologise, but Jay isn't having any of it. He's wanting to know where Peter is, but Lola admits she has no idea but Jay doesn't believe her, ask they're arguing Bobby can seen counting on his fingers again in an attempt to calm himself in this heated situation. Jay suddenly storms off in search for Peter.

Returning to the Vic with Mick and Katy, Mick is informing Katy about everything he remembers from their time together, going the cinema and she telling him she loved him. But Katy seems to have an explanation for everything he mentions. She recalls calling it their "little secret" because she took him to a rated 15 movie while he was just 12 and she didn't want to get into trouble. Plus she also admits telling him she loved him, but only in a motherly way. She appears to be really twisting it and telling him that he's not remembering things properly. (I'm sure that's a common factor of being an abuser, persuading the victim that they've got their facts wrong!) But suddenly Mick seems to remember everything so vividly, he starts to describe the night in question when he first slept at Katy's. Remembering the memory of being told to go upstairs and use a towel, her undressing him and then being asked to join her in her bed, to which he recalls that's when everything between them started. Katy doesn't seem to recall what Mick's saying is true, when they leave the Vic, Mick attempts to escape, informing her that he hopes she manages to find Frankie, but Katy isn't going to let him escape that easily, she informs him that what he has pretty much just accused her of, she could go to prison for. She tells him that their discussion isn't over and Mick takes her someone else more private.

Meanwhile in Cafe, Rainie watches as Denise enters with young Raymond. Rainie smiles at the small boy and asks Denise a pretty forward question, "How old were you when you had him?!" - understandably, that catches Denise off guard. It is quite a forward question which, to be fair, no one she be asked, but poor Rainie, in such desire of being a Mum, I guess she's probably thinking if Denise can, then why can't she? Regardless of their age! As far as I can make out, Denise seems to reveal to Rainie that she had Raymond at the age of 45? Which to be honest is absolutely incredible! Maybe this might give Rainie some hope? Maybe it's not too late for her to have children?

Returning to Mick and Katy, they eventually find themselves in the park. Katy seems to recall Mick's memories a bit differently, she recalls cleaning him up and putting him to pet, tucking him in and then she suggests that actually she slept on the sofa downstairs and not in the same bed. She remembers him crying and wanting to help him. While Katy is giving her version of events, a voice is heard from the other side of the park and Tina appears, she is incredibly excited to see Katy after such a long time. But as the camera looks to Mick as Tina and Katy are reminiscing, he looks like he's close to bursting into tears. Katy informs Tina that she's come looking for Frankie, it's then Tina mentions that she used to work at her bar and she instantly invites Katy to go round and have a look. As they walk on ahead they call out for Mick to come and join them, but he looks as if he'd much rather be 1000 miles away from Katy.

Meanwhile, in the Vic, Jay is still searching for Peter. He asks Ian whether he has seen him to which Ian denies ever seeing his son. As Jay orders a pint, Honey watches from a distance as Jay sneaks into the back of the Vic and up the stairs. Suddenly he becomes face-to-face with the Beale offspring and he scarpers into the bathroom. Jay chases after him as bangs against the bathroom door, calling Peter a coward for not facing him like a man! Peter makes a really pathetic excuse claiming he had no idea that he and Lola were even serious, to which Jay flips just that little bit harder and bangs against the door violently. Suddenly, Honey appears from the stairs and calls out to Jay to calm himself down ... I do believe that Jay would like to get his hands on Peter, but in all seriousness, what good what it do? It really wouldn't make the situation any better.

Back at the undertakers, Rainie brings her husband a cup of coffee. Stuart is looking crushed after the recent events, but something tells me that after Rainie bumping into Denise, perhaps it's given her some form of hope that perhaps there still could be a chance that they could become parents. Rainie admits to her husband that she thinks they should still go ahead with their appointment to the fertility clinic. She states that they've already paid and they wont be able to get their money back, and if there is just the smallest chance that it could work and they could become parents, they should grab the opportunity whilst they can. Stuart seems absolutely thrilled with the idea, but of course he's bound to have some concerns, he begins to tell his wife "What if -!" but she stops him in his tracks and reassures him, "If it doesn't work, then we've still got each other!" ... I have to say, I really do love this couple. They're the couple I never thought I would've loved and would've wanted them to have so much happiness. I feel so happy that EastEnders have brought these two together, they fit so perfectly and I know it sounds mushy, but I do hope they get their happily ever after, they are the ones who seem to deserve it more than any one else. Don't you think?

Back at the Vic, Honey is trying to console Jay, telling him how much she came to hate Adam by the end of their relationship. She tries to reassure Jay that things wont be like that for him, as Lola is deeply sorry for what she's done, and plus considering the fact that Jay loves her. Jay admits he wants to smash Peter's face in, which is understandable. But when Honey in speaking about Adam and how after everything he had put her through, it was the final straw for her, after a long line of straws, Jay is staring at her. Not talking, not even blinking - but Honey can see that he's looking at something, he's looking  straight at her. Has he come to realise he has feelings for her? He quickly thanks her and leaves the Vic, leaving Honey completely speechless.

At the Prince Albert, Tina and Katy are reminiscing after Tina informs Katy that she's attempted to get hold of Frankie. As they continue their conversation, Tina asks Katy why she left the care home so suddenly all those years ago, she explains that she fell out with the manager after he made a pass at her. She recalls being chucked out the next day without being able to say goodbye to anyone. It's then Tina mentions how devastated they all were that she had left, and described Mick as a love-sick puppy. Mick is sat on his own as his sister chats to his unknown abuser. Mick then speaks and recalls writing letter's to Katy but never receiving a reply from her, to which she admits is her biggest regret. She reveals she got pregnant with Frankie soon after leaving the home and that her head was all over the place during the time. Suddenly, Katy's phone pings and she reveals that finally Frankie has been in touch and she's wanting to talk to her Mum. As she gets herself ready to leave, she asks whether Mick will show her the way to the train station, Mick looks ever so uncomfortable as he follows her exit from the bar.

Back at home, it looks as if Jay has returned to talk with Lola. She is deeply apologetic for her mistake. Jay has calmed himself down and listening to everything she's saying. She must've apologised numerous about of times as Jay tells her that she doesn't have to repeat herself. She make a promise to him that she will never make the same mistake again. She asks for his forgiveness and he admits that he forgives her, but there will no way back for them after this, he tells her that things are over between them. He makes the interesting point that he's not as upset about it as he thought he was going to be. Lola is clearly devastated by what he's saying, but what he says makes sense - when she fell pregnant, Jay wanted to keep it but she didn't, when Jay wanted to get married - he wanted it, she didn't and it's probably the same with the flat. Jay reveals that he's not even sure whether she wants it, however Lola confirms that she does want all those things but just not yet, they don't need to rush into things. It's then that Jay drops the bombshell that he's come to realise that he doesn't love her in the way he used to anymore. Lola is absolutely devastated and pleads to him, she tells him that she can't be with anyone else except him, as no one else knows her as well as he does. But Jay is very gentle with her informs her that she will find someone else eventually as she's a very strong woman and someone will love her for who she is. With a mutual understanding between them both, they decide to end things. Which I find very sad, I've always loved Lola and Jay together and utterly believed that they belong together, I certainly can't see them being with anyone else on the Square, especially Lola. Something does tell me however, that Jay has developed feelings for Honey over recent weeks, what do you guys think? Do you think Jay will take his chance with Honey?! Are to sad to see Jay and Lola call it a day on their relationship? Who do think will be their next love interest?

The final scene of this episode is also quite an interesting one. Mick leads Katy to the train station and it appears he's still coming to terms with the information that his memory isn't quite what he thought it was. He seems baffled that his mind "invented" the memory. However something is shouting at me that his memory is true, and Katy has just completely twisted it to make him think it's not. Mick thanks her for everything she did for him back in the day and mentions that he hopes that she and Frankie will be able to sort things out. He also asks her to tell Frankie that he's sorry, it's then Katy tells him to tell her himself, but Mick feels like it's best for him step away for a while and let things settle. But Katy then drops the bombshell that Frankie will only meet with her Mum if Mick comes to. I feel like once again, Mick is being thrown into situation he really doesn't want to be in.

For me, I found this episode very fascinating, mainly regarding the character of Katy. I think there is something deeply dark about her, she comes across as this brilliant woman who helped children younger than her whilst in care, but I think it's all a cover up, what if she abused other children as well as Mick? I do feel there will be a huge storyline with her now she's arrived, will it kick off until or around Christmas? What do you guys think?! Either way I'm really looking forward to seeing how this storyline develops. I hope you guys enjoy the rest of your day. I'll be back very soon another blog. Thank you again for taking the time the read. Love you all xXx

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

This is the most offensivly ignorant comment I’ve ever had the misfortunte of reading

Unsurprisingly it comes from the King of ‘What you just said is so aggressively idiotic I feel like you just insulted everyone’: RDMacQ. 

For context you need to read this statement from someone else. Whilst I do not agree with this statement I’m not addressing it’s merits or demerits.

“Let me say that I don't like Evil Superman as a concept, but when written well, like Tom Taylor's Injustice comics, where the guy who wrote it clearly has love for the traditional version of Superman and tries to humanize him even at his worst so you can relate and feel for the guy, I accept it, I enjoy it. By that same token, I was always open to Peter/MJ not working out if it was done well, and not done as in the case of OMD/OMIT with the demonstrable intent of slandering MJ's character and making Peter young hip and open to dating younger girls without him coming off as a creep and sleazebag. I am not okay with it happening to preserving Peter's sainthood. I mean the reason I accepted Peter B. in ITSV is that it did that take on the direction the character went into very well. In the case of Life Story #3, you are meant to agree with MJ and she's shown as a moral force, someone who condemns Venom Peter when he is about to kill Kraven-in-Cloth Suit. And of course people need to keep in mind that in Life Story, Reed and Sue didn't work out either, Vision suffers more guilt than even Peter can fathom, Captain America made a bigger and more difficult choice and faces more consequences for his actions than Peter does. So I feel that whatever Zdarsky is doing he's playing fair in the way that other writers don't when they do the story this way. And also tonally, the story is set in the '80s, the age of Watchmen. I think in terms of decade-specific mood and trend, having a story where Spider-man becomes a deadbeat dad worried about not being in prime physical shape and so on...is quite apposite.”

Then we get to RDMacQ’s bullshit

 “Yeah, I find it weird that the main complaint is "This isn't what happened in the original comics" and I'm like "Yeah.... kind of the point!"”

Here is the problem.

Life Story is intended and promoted as a WHAT IF.

 The way a WHAT IF works is that it takes what DID happen and changes variables to explore how that’d impact the outcome.

With Variables A+B you get outcome 1 (the main universe).

 But what if you had Variables C+D? You would get outcome 2.

 Gwen Stacy died so Spider-Man tried (and ultimately refrained) from murdering the Green Goblin.

 But what If Spider-Man saved Gwen Stacy? Then she’d accept him, he’d stop the Goblin, but the Goblin would expose his identity in the interim and thus ruin Peter’s life.

 Kingpin’s assassin injured Aunt May so Peter beat him up.

 But what If the Kingpin’s assassin didn’t injure Aunt May but simply outright killed Mary Jane? Then Peter would directly murder the Kingpin.

 Life Story doesn’t play fair as a What if in the slightest.

 A what if done properly is confined by the parameters of the original story. Everyone still needs to act in character within the context of the new situation as defined by the older stories.

 That isn’t he case in Life Story

 To begin with it isn’t changing just one variable it’s changing multiple. Spider-Man is aging in real time. The events of his life are happening in roughly the same time period they would’ve been published, but not in the same order. The level of realism is drastically higher since Marvel heroes are going to the Vietnam War.

 Characters act arbitrarily differently in ways they wouldn’t do in the context of the new variables. Case in point, why exactly would Norman Osborn pull the scheme he di in issue #2 just because he’s in prison? His plan never made sense. And in issue #4 his plan was even more asinine. He wanted to destroy Spider-Man and due to being too old to do it himself he pulled the Clone Saga and got Doc Ock to attack Spidey on his behalf. But he knew who Peter was, why not just reveal the truth. Doing so couldn’t harm him as he’d already paid for his crimes as the Goblin and his identity was public knowledge.

 That doesn’t make sense. That’s not an opinion that’s just self-evident by the story. The cause and effect of it doesn’t add up.

 But RDMacQ doesn’t believe in that. According to him Norman’s actions are justified because ‘ a crazy person did something that didn’t make sense’. That’s the laziest most pathetic attempt at analysis. And yet this cum bubble of a human being has the audiactity to claim I  don’t analyse.

 To him authorial intent is everything unless he doesn’t like it.

 Because the point is that it’s supposed to be different from canon that means that characters can act in ANY way that’s different. ANY thing that is different is a viable option. Which obviously defeats the entire object of the project. If you are going to do that what is the point of rooting it in 616 canon in the first place? Why rely upon familiarity with the canon universe if you are going to randomly change anything on a whim as opposed to in logical response to a changed variable?

 In doing that all you have accomplished is a weird and unfocussed Ultimate Universe, not a What if.

 But then ol’ Big Mac starts to step up the game.

 “I think probably my issue arises due to certain recent fan outrages, and a lot of the rationalizations and justifications that came from them. The latest episode of Game of Thrones, for example, had a lot of people- and I mean a LOT of people- decrying a character's "Heel" turn and their "Out of character" moments- while at the same time showing a bit of a misreading of the material or the subject matter.”

 Bear in mind when he wrote this the latest episode of HBO’s Game of Thrones was the penultimate episode of it’s eighth and final season. In it, key protagonist, Daenerys slaughtered a whole city full of civilians with a fire breathing dragon and her army. Throughout the show she’d previously been defined as being unwilling to kill innocents on principle, once claiming that each enslaved person in a city was a reason to conquer the city and liberate it’s people. She was so horrified that one of her dragons inadvertently killed a child that she locked them up. She once affirmed that she did not want to be ‘Queen of the Ashes’ amidst her campaign to retake her homeland.

 It’s fair to say the overwhelming majority of viewers AND professional critics took major issue with this and declared it a travesty and out of character.

 Behind-the-scenes stories also heavily point to Emilia Clarke (the actress portraying the character) being upset and disenchanted with her character’s direction.

For my money these two videos are the best examinations of the disaster that was Daenerys heel turn in this episode of Game of Thrones.*

Also please bear in mind the ‘man’ saying people are misreading things is the same man who has continually insisted that Norman Osborn merely wants to kill Spider-Man in spite of me citing examples to the contrary, including this page.

So you know, not exactly demonstrating great analytical skills there. 

“I think it's far too easy to cry "Out of character" when a character does something different, or simply questionable, because it's an easy catch all phrase that sounds like you know something, but in reality it's just a cover for a lack of understanding of things like characterization or plot development.”

Says the ‘man’ who genuinely once said Norman Osborn doing something nonsensical is justified because ‘he’s crazy’.

 Says the ‘man’ who leaned incredibly hard on the idea that Miles Warren in Life Story would not have intervened in Gwen’s marriage to Peter Parker even though his entire character revolves around his jealous obsession over her.

 Says the guy who once said a writer can randomly decide all of Mary Jane’s character development since the 1980s didn’t matter.

 Says the ‘man’ who once claimed Doc Ock at the end of Gage’s Superior run was he real Doc Ock even though he was literally a clone of his mind in a clone of his body…and then he refused to listen to me when I repeatedly spelled that fact out for him. His rationale was ‘Marvel are treating him as the real guy so he is’.

 Says the ‘man’ that in his ‘interpretation’ Spider-Man regarded Ned Leeds as a ‘viper’ after he was revealed as the Hobgoblin, in spite of literally no evidence supporting that interpretation and you know Spider-Man literally saying otherwise multiple times; including in the issue he learned Ned was a villain. In fact when I pointed this out to ol’ big Mac he referred to such things as ‘arbitrary’.

 Says the guy who once said it’s better for stories to be in multi-parters because before the rise of decompression al stories had rushed endings. Remember how Amazing Fantasy #15, The Kid Who Collects Spider-Man, Sensational Annual 2007, The Conversation and When Commeth the Commuter all had ‘rushed’ endings?

 Says the poor excuse for a ‘man’ who once claimed there was nothing wrong with the JMS run having magic but who also lambasted Peter David’s Spider-Man work for involving magic and time travel, even though JMS wrote ASM #500 which is literally about magic time travel.

 What I am trying to say is this ‘man’ has systemically demonstrated immense hypocrisy and stupidity but a staggering deficiency when it comes to literary analytical skills.

 “The movie reviewer Bob Chipman mentioned this in one of his videos where he talked about the problems that a lot of "Modern" viewers have is that they believe because they watch a lot of movies in a year, that somehow makes them film buffs or gives them insight into the storytelling process, when in reality what they are doing is watching all the Marvel movies or all the big releases, and assuming that gives them the same sort of insight that people who go to school to learn this sort of thing do. And I kind of think that's also true of comics as well.”

 Oh boy, is there a lot to unpack here.

 Keeper of the Gate

For starters let’s call this out for what it is. As much as he might be softening the statement by saying ‘kind of’, what he is actually doing right here is GATEKEEPING.**

 He is saying unless you have ‘gone to school to learn this sort of thing’ you don’t COUNT as a critic.***

 Okay let’s dive into that one.

 Schooling ain’t everything

Gone to school to do what exactly? How to make movies? That’s what film school is for right? So you can learn how to write, produce, direct, etc movies. Correct me if I am wrong but film school does not teach you how to CRITIQUE movies.

 So by this logic going to film school wouldn’t qualify you to critique a movie, just how to make them. Except no one argues that. Bob Chipman himself studied film at school and it is from that point of view that his analyses come from.

 So by RDMacQ’s own logic Bob himself isn’t qualified for his own job, let alone RD himself. At which point why does Bob’s words carry any weight at all?

 But wait, we can go yet deeper.

 What if we aren’t talking about film school specifically? What if someone just studied film as their major in college but not strictly film school? Is that good enough to be a film critic or not? If it is are you a lower echelon of film critic?

 What if you minored in film/media studies instead of majored in it? Are you yet lower on the totem pole?

 What if you went to film school but dropped out?

 What if you studied from home and didn’t actually GO to the school itself?

 What if you studied it at A school but pre-college?

 What if you studied it privately outside of an educational institution? In other words a self-taught film student?

 Shit, what about the first ever film critics or the first ever film makers who pioneered techniques and the art form? If they were going through the trial and error of formulating the art form and medium there obviously couldn’t have BEEN film schools back then?

 Do they not count?

 Not to mention the cultural implications of this. If you are an American who attended a French film school are you unqualified to critique American films and only French ones, even if you grew up predominantly with American cinema?

 Let’s change things up a little and look to TV in Britain. One of the most acclaimed British TV writers of all time was a man named John Sullivan. Sullivan created multiple beloved and acclaimed sitcoms, the most famous of which is called Only Fools and Horses. So successful was this show that it was the most viewed TV show in Britain in both the 90s and the 2000s. The latte in particular is an achievement since the show existed purely as reruns in the 2000s sans literally 3 episodes.

 The show had a total of 64 episodes and ran between 1981-2003. Do you know how many of those 64 episodes Sullivan wrote?

 ALL of them.

 And do you know how many of them have predominantly negative reviews? Arguably  just four.

 Not only has the show been positively received it’s been regarded as the singular greatest British comedy of all time, a title it still holds to this day.

 Amidst the praise that the show has received is it’s great characterization, it’s emotional moments and in particular it’s utter command of narrative structure. Not only do the jokes land they land with grace and make the feat seem easy when it’s all over. The cherry on his record was his OBE, an official government recognition of his positive contributions to the arts.

 So you know, this guy clearly knew how to tell a good story. He did like 60 times in a row single handily.

 So when and where did he study film? The answer is, he didn’t.

 He never studied film. His formal education stopped at age 15 when he dropped out of school with no qualifications. Even if he had completed his secondary high school education he’d have not studied film. Film was not on the British curriculum at the time and to my knowledge still isn’t. At best you can study ‘media studies’ starting at age 16-18 before you go on to university. But up until age 16 it’s just not an available option.

 He did go to evening classes for English and read teach yourself books but that was it.

 By Big Mac’s standards this writer who’s been recognized by the government themselves wasn’t qualified to write anything, let alone critique it.

 Additionally let’s consider one teeny weeny little fact. If you’ve lived through the formal education system in pretty much any Western country you have almost certainly been educated on how to gain an insight into the storytelling process. Because that’s a big part of what fucking ENGLISH class is for!****

 MovieBob

I’d say I’m shocked and appalled at RD’s audacity and lack of self-awareness in citing MovieBob Chipman. But I’m not. It actually makes far too much sense.

MovieBob is a broken clock that’s often not even right twice a day. His credibility as a critic and as a human being is also woefully lacking.

For starters RD is a big Spider-Marriage proponent (though he’s recently turned traitor and says he doesn’t really mid if it doesn’t come back). To his credit he has often called out and deconstructed unfair and disingenuous arguments against the Spider-Marriage.

Bob however is staunchly on the other side of that debate.

He’s even said the marriage was never good, came from an illegitimate place, that Spider-Mans imply should never be married and in fact argued that a late Slott era Spider-Man and MJ were more interesting than they were before.

Thus I find RD’s citing of Bob to back up his claims about who is ‘qualified’ to be a critic the height of irony.

But you know, that doesn’t necessarily hurt RD’s argument. Hell, Bob un-ironically believing in eugenics or intelligence testing for voters doesn’t necessarily hurt RD’s argument.

Nor does MovieBob’s weird, weird views on how society apparently punishes the Big Brains like himself of course. Although it’s so telling that an arrogant prick like RD would invoke the words of a ‘brother-in-arms’ like Bob.

 No, what hurts RD’s argument is where Bob was probably coming from with his initial statement.

 See I heavily suspect that RD’s claims about Bob are kind of stem from his interpretations of this video Bob made called ‘BIG PICTURE: PLOTHOLE SURFERS’. Noticeably that video cites this video by another Youtube film critic named Patrick Willems. Called ‘SHUT UP ABOUT PLOT HOLES’.

The sentiments of both videos explicitly or implicitly echo Big MacQuack’s. Everyone is wrong in how they are critiquing movies except them and people like them because they are ‘professionals’ because they went to school.

None of these arguments hold up to scrutiny both due to stuff I have mentioned above but also for various other reasons I’m not going to bother unpacking here. If you want a detailed look at why Chipman and Willems (and by extension RD) are full of shit there are several Youtube videos dissecting their points, particularly Willems’.

However, I’ve found the most detailed to be this video. 

There is also this video where they more directly address Bob’s video.

Fair warning they are long and get less than PC, and yet they do address why the videos don’t hold up to scrutiny.

Self-taught critic

Here is a crazy thought, if you’ve watched all the Marvel movies and big releases every year, why SHOULDN’T that give you a potential insight when critiquing OTHER Marvel movies or big releases? Those things are competing against one another, they are broadly going for the same audience. If you familiarise yourself with them then it is not beyond impossibility that you could mentally play spot the difference in the storytelling and critically evaluate them. It’s almost like in consuming that media you have formulated a CRITERIA which you are then CRITICALLY judging similar such media against.

Hypocrisy

The best part about RD’s statements? He himself has never gone to film school. Nor has he gone to a school specifically teaching him how to analyse comic books nor write them.

By his own logic he has disqualified himself from partaking in critiquing any story, as he did with Life Story or Game of Thrones earlier on.

But the best part?

If you check out the thread this is from and observe the poster called Chase the Blues Away they often disagree. CTBA  points out holes in RD’s arguments and subtly questions his reading comprehension. Entirely separately they also implied they felt GoT’s writing was illogical towards the end of season 8 as well.

Why is CTBA relevant.

Because they actually HAVE gone to film school!

Furthermore, on both Life Story and most other matters related to Spider-Man CTBA and myself have been on the same page, whether this entails agreeing with one another’s statements or by coincidence having similar positions.

Now me?

I NEVER went to film school nor did I study English literature formally beyond age 18. Oh, I’ve read bits and bobs about writing (my favourite being Russell T Davies’ book ‘A Writer’s Tale’). But I have no college level formal education on the craft of writing. My analytical skills were cultivated from my school experiences and a whole load of osmosis and practice.

I have also found myself often on the same page as another person who at least studied English at a college level. They are another poster on the same forum called MacGoblin, perhaps better known as the creator of the (now defunct) SpideyKicksButt website. For many people the site was THE best source of Spider-Man analysis on the web for over a decade.

MadGoblin still participates regularly on a podcast covering new Spider-Man issues and whether or not I agree with all his assessments the manner in which he analyses (with an eye upon continuity) is similar to myself and indeed all the other panellists on the podcast.

One of the former panellists on the podcast (who I have also been on the same page with more often than not) was called Donomark and he too studied English at a college level.

So that’s three people who meet RD’s arbitrary rules for who is a ‘real’ critic. And yet I (someone who doesn’t meet RD’s criteria) have come to mostly the exact same conclusions as they have through entirely independent analysis.

As have other people I know who didn’t study film or English Lit in college.

So, either I’m just an absolute prodigy, or RDMacQ, Willems and MovieBob’s criteria for who can and can’t grasp plot and characters is full of shit.

“A lot of the complaints I've seen is that Peter wouldn't or didn't do this in the original comics. But arguing "Peter wouldn't do this because in ASM #225, on page 11..." isn't pointing out the flaw in the story.”

As always RD is devoid of nuance or appreciating the complexities of things.

If in Life Story or any Spider-Man story in canon Peter acts in a way at odds with his established characterization  which is DEFINED by ASM #225 then absolutely  that’s pointing out a flaw in a story.

Case in point, here is this poorly drawn satire of Superior Spider-Man RDMacQ himself made:

Most of the gags at the expense of Superior Spider-Man in this page was made through the lens of knowing the characters’ past, of knowing what they did and how they acted in older stories.

The confusion over Crazy Town Banana Pants derives from Superior claiming Peter routinely said this when he in fact never did.

Carlie’s suspicions over Superior’s behaviour stems from he fact that the older stories have established how Peter acts and established that Carlie knows how he acts. Therefore Carlie not realizing the truth when she’s been told is illogical. That’s the gag from someone who’s stamped his foot on the ground and angrily refuted that human beings are capable of being logical.

The same is true of this next page too.

Captain America refers to ‘usual’ people involved with the Avengers (super scientists, etc.). Usual means there is a precedent and a precedent can only be defined via a pattern. A pattern of what? A pattern of older stories!

The second panel is bringing up the OLDER STORY ‘Ends of the Earth’ to prove the hypocrisy of Doc Ock

The final panel references SEVERAL past events. The Clone Saga. The Alien Costume Saga. Every time the Chameleon or another shape shifter has impersonated him. Kraven’s Last Hunt.

It’s also referencing the fact that MJ would KNOW about them and even goes really specific by referencing the events of a few pages of one specific issue of Kraven’s Last Hunt. Not the gist of the story, not the climax or the most famous moments. This one scene in the middle of everything else.

RD is using that very specific moment to draw a comparison between it and the events of Superior in order to point out how MJ is not acting consistently.

Almost like she’s, I dunno, OUT OF CHARACTER or something?

Oh, and or the record declaring Peter would or wouldn’t act this way because of ASm #225 p11 is bullshit because Peter isn’t even on that page.

“That's just spouting comic book trivia, which isn't the same thing.”

But referencing events in the middle of KLH which are hardly iconic and immediately memorable and pointing out how MJ didn’t act consistently with them in Superior Spider-Man?

 Oh no, that’s NOT ‘spouting comic book trivia’.

 Can you see the hypocrisy of this creature now?

 Can you see how BROKEN it is to argue a character being established as acting a certain way by an older story DOESN’T mean it matters thereafter?

 And he says I am bad at analysis, Jesus Christ.

 “Knowledge of trivia isn't the same as understanding plot structure, foreshadowing, character development, or knowing or accepting that just because something happens in issue 1 doesn't mean it will stay that way throughout the entire book.”

 First of all the sheer audacity of someone with such non-existent analytical skills to DARE fucking throw shade like this is astounding. That’s like Michael Bay trying to explain how you make a movie with substance.

 Second of all he’s right and wrong here.

 Knowing the history of the characters is not the same as knowing those things.

 But that doesn’t render it trivia because it’s the fucking histories of the characters that define who they goddam are!

 Everyone agrees Spider-Man would not have acted the way he did in One More Day right? And that MJ wouldn’t have acted the way she did in OMIT right?

 Why? Why do people feel the characters would not behave that way?

 Because they read older stories that depicted them acting in certain ways in certain situations that were then contradicted by OMD and OMIT.

 You know like MJ not realising Superior Spidey wasn’t really Peter even though the situation was incredibly similar to Kraven’s Last Hunt and both entailed imposters pretending to be Spider-Man.

 No, knowing the history isn’t the same as knowing all that other stuff.

 But it is undeniably an integral PART of being able to analyse something because if the prior events don’t matter, if they are merely trivia (or worse trivia when he wants it to be but not when he doesn’t) then NOTHING matters.

 Why the fuck should issue #1 matter when reading issue #2? Or issue #3 when reading issue #5?

 What does it matter if chapter 1 established our protagonist as an adult black man with a wife but by chapter 10, with no explanation they are a teenaged white woman claiming they’ve never been married?

 Hey, chapter 1 is just trivia right. Why should that matter?

 By the way, go ask Harry Potter fans if those little details are irrelevant and see how that goes.

 He’s also (unsurprisingly) disgustingly disingenuous in his final point. Yes, things between issue #1 and issue #25 will change. But there is a world of difference between something changing via development vs. lazy contradictive writing.

 Case in point, in ASM #1 Peter Parker doesn’t have a job, is a pariah at school and runs away crying from a failed adventure. In issue #25 he has a freelance job, isn’t running away crying and 2 ladies are interested in him.

 WHAT? Isn’t this a contradiction? Doesn’t accepting this change mean you accept that issue #1 was mere trivia?

 No, because between issue #1 and #25 we saw how and when Peter got a job, those two ladies became interested in him and we saw his skills, experience and confidence grow. The end result is that issue #25 was different to issue #1 because we’d been on a JOURNEY to get us there.

 In contrast in ASM #700 Doc Ock is seemingly turned into a good guy because all of Spider-Man’s memories were beamed into his head, teaching him Uncle Ben’s famous mantra. But in Superior Spider-Man #1 he’s randomly reverted to what he was doing back in ASM #698.

 So that stuff was just trivia? But that stuff was the resolution of ASM #700 and therefore the set up for Superior #1. The latter couldn’t exist without the former and yet it doesn’t make sense.

 And you see that? You see how that cause and effect problem exists? Yeah, that’s PART of critiquing plot structure and foreshadowing. It’s ALMOST like the older stories aren’t merely trivia but actually very important and play a factor  in the other forms of analysis RD listed off.

 Not to mention, the idiocy of saying knowing the trivia doesn’t mean you understand foreshadowing. Motherfucker, the entire concept of foreshadowing is that you establish details in the present because you want to hint at readers about where the story is going to go later. It practically HINGES upon readers remembering that ‘trivia’.

 If ASM #225 p11 had Spider-Man pass by a black cat and say ‘Boy that reminds me of Felicia Hardy.’ THAT would be foreshadowing for the next issue, but you couldn’t appreciate that UNLESS you remembered what happened in ASM #225 p11.

 And the imbecility of bringing this shit up whilst referencing Game of Thrones too? As if Daenerys heel turn was actually foreshadowed and not just created from splicing old voice overs together in the previously segment of the show.

The next bit is in reference to Life Story again by the way.

“I mean, one of the best bits of subtle foreshadowing here is what happens with Peter and Reed's relationship. In issue 2, Peter reflects on how Reed pushed Sue away with his actions, and how he doesn't want to end up like that. But come issue 3, Peter ends up doing just that, despite his best efforts to the contrary and knowing what happened to Reed beforehand. That shows smart plot structure, which doesn't come out and yell at you "THIS IS IMPORTANT!" or hold your hand in any way. That shows that this story is pretty smart with the narrative choices that are being made.”

No it doesn’t.

Because the way in which Peter pushed MJ away contradicted his character and made no fucking sense. He had a mid-life crisis in spite of being well under 40 years old.

Also, you can have, by skill or by fluke, a dash of GOOD writing amidst your shitty writing.

A LOT of people would argue the podrace or Duel of the Fates fight in Phantom Menace were legitimately good sequences in an otherwise bad movie.

People broadbrush 90s Marvel as wall to wall trash but equally everyone praises Spider-Man 2099, Joe Kelly’s Deadpool run, Ron Marz’s Green Lantern run, etc.

Goddammit, 99% of all Doctor Who is fans celebrating the bits that were great amidst the bits that were bad. There are no end of Dr. Who stories were fans will praise the set design or costumes whilst shitting on the over all writing.

Shockingly a piece of media can have good AND bad elements!

Whenever someone says a story is good or bad they are almost always speaking OVERALL. A New Hope is OVERALL good. It’s not claiming there aren’t flaws to it.

Dan Slott’s Spider-Man run was OVERALL bad. Even I have said there are good elements to it.

But the mere existence of good elements doesn’t prove that something is overall one thing or another.

In Life Story’s case, let’s pretend RD is right. Then Zdarsky executed a good bit of foreshadowing.

Key word there: ‘bit’.

It doesn’t PROVE the over all story is smart with its narrative choices.

That’s such an utterly childish  manner of analysis. ‘Well this bit is good that means everything else has to be good’.

Like how the fuck does doing a good bit of foreshadowing prove that Life Story wasn’t mischaracterizing anyone or knew how to tell a good alternate history story?

Shit, DAN SLOTT had foreshadowing, sometimes it was even competently executed. Didn’t mean it wasn’t happening within the context of mischaracterization. 

Trust Bobby Mac to have no grasp  of nuance.

 “But rather than acknowledging that, instead we get stuff like being concerned with that because Gwen finds out Peter's secret identity at the end of issue 1, that therefore means that Peter is going to be hooking up with Gwen throughout the rest of the story, that this is going to be one big Peter/ Gwen book, that Chip Zdarsky is somehow a Gwen shipper because he wanted to just have her as a best friend in Spectacular, that MJ only having two lines in the first issue means her importance will be diminished overall, and that the whole series is going to try and be a rewrite to push that ship.”

None of the allegedly great foreshadowing RD spoke of above was in issue #1

Even if it was nobody could possibly have talked about that as a point of praise because the nature of foreshadowing is we wouldn’t have realised it was goddam foreshadowing until we finally GOT to the bit it was setting up in later issues

RD has been one of the most involved people in discussions about the Spider-Marriage, frequently clashing with a fell named Mister Mets on CBR and on the linked message board. He knows that Marvel from OMD onwards used to spite fans over OMD and the Spider-Marriage and that circa 2019 when Life Story was being released the latest of such instances had occurred maybe just 1 year earlier in Slott’s Red Goblin storyline. He also knows Zdarsky pissed in the well of the Spider-Marriage fans with his FCBD 2017 Spidey story which involved Mary Jane. So for a heavily burned and abused fanbase to suddenly be concerned that Zdarksy would be pushing an agenda was a totally natural and justified reaction to have at the time even if it was proven incorrect in the long run.

RD is being a shithead again. ‘Ugh, look at these overwrought FaNz. wHy CaNt dey celebrate the GUD stuff and not focus on the WRONG stuff’.The wrong stuff being Zdarsky shitting on the Spider-Man marriage, which he clearly did by breaking up Peter and Mj in the 80s when they didn’t break up then but he needed to ship Peter with Jessica Jones I guess

 “Yet here we, two issues later, and Gwen is dead, Peter married MJ and now they have kids.”

And in LF #3 their marriage was in a toxic place and they split up. In issue #4 they get back together but only by Peter giving up being Spider-Man. Almost like the story was saying having a family and being Spidey are incompatible or something.

Shit issue #3 BEGINS with MJ griping about Peter.

 “All the reactionary nonsense turned out to be for naught, since the story was going in a different direction, and just because Gwen was prominent early on didn't mean MJ wasn't going to play an important role later.”

 It wasn’t reactionary nonsense it was entirely justified  reactionary concern. People weren’t concerned that MJ wouldn’t be important but that Zdarsky would be pushing a pro-Gwen/anti-Mj agenda which he at least debatably did and certainly seemed to be doing in the first 3 issues.

 “And yet we still continue to see that reactionary nonsense continue with decrying because Peter and MJ leave off on a bad note here, it therefore means the rest of the series will be an unending slide into misery.”

Which was proven partially true.

Issue #4 Harry dies, Peter quits like a coward.

Issue #5 Peter’s child is crippled, his identity is outted, ben Reilly dies and he becomes a fugitive as a super human civil war breaks out.

Issue #6 the world has turned to shit because of that civil war and the only way to fix it is for Spider-Man to die.

But again, he’s missing the point like the fool that he is.

People were concerned and upset BECAUSE the series split Peter and MJ up in the first place. Both because that defied the mission statement of the series but also because they know Peter and MJ WOULDN’T split up and the circumstances engineering it were fucking contrived shit.

“Which then unfortunately leads into bashing the creator himself, which I find incredibly unreasonable given the tremendous job Zdarsky is doing.”

He didn’t do a tremendous job.

Chase the Blues Away, the film school student, had been saying so and continued to say so after RD made this comment. So I guess by his own metric he was full of shit.

This is one of RD’s fundamental and fatal flaws. He’s a hypocrite. Everything is subjective unless it’s the shit HE likes or hates. Then it’s objectively good or bad.

Not to mention no one had been bashing the creator personally. He can’t grasp this either. He doesn’t grasp the distinction between bashing the work of a writer vs. bashing the writer personally.

E.g. he falsely claims I’ve sworn at him. I have sworn at him…here. On my own blog here I don’t feel the need to play nice.

On a public forum? Never. I’ve sworn in the course of conversations with him. I’ve sworn in regards to his argument but never sworn to attack him personally.

“Decrying Zdarsky as some form of hack because halfway through a six part story he's had the protagonist go through a rough time and that he is just putting out "Fan fiction," or- as I saw someone else argue- that the reason Zdarsky did this was because he himself went through marital troubles at one time in his life is just silly.”

It’s really not. He admitted that he wrote MJ in FCBD 2017 as his ex wife.

Fanfiction is exactly what LF was. Peter hooks up with Jessica Jones because…no given reason. It’d make infinitely more sense for that to have been Felicia but it was Jessica Jones. Zdarsky invents his own personal new spin on the Goblin who’s wearing kewl black because why not. He has characters randomly act in any way he wants for the story to happen regardless of how little sense it makes. That’s bad fanfiction 101. He has logic holes you can drive a truck through. FFS Russia launched nukes on America in issue #3 and this DIDN”T result in all out nuclear Armageddon. That’s amateuris

 “Just like it's silly to say that D&B from GoT are purposefully destroying the show because they hate it and they hate women and they just want to move onto Star Wars,”

This is at worst a strawman.

At best an utterly myopic oversimplification.

The MAJORITY of people crying out against GoT season 8 weren’t claiming D&B were engaging in deliberate sabotage but rather they were ruining the series via their incompetence and RUSHING to get to the end.

Additionally the idea that they are misogynists is REALLY not a ‘silly’ argument. MANY people throughout the show’s history have made that argument, long before the popular opinion was that the show was bad,

A  season 4 subplot that was heavily embellished (to the point of being called practically original) from the books entailed rogue Night’s Watchmen raping a household of women beyond the Wall. The most infamous line from the subplot was ‘Fuck them all to death.’

In that same season Jamie Lannister makes sexual advances on his sister Cersei even though she was saying no.

Sansa Stark, in a scene not in the books, was raped by Ramsey Bolton with the focus being upon Theon Greyjoy’s horror at the situation.

And of course there is ever so slightly a dash of gratuitous nudity involving women in the show.

Look, I’m not even saying for sure that D&B hate women or that that was at the root of how they fucked up Daenerys’ character in season 8.

But it’s idiotic to just dismiss the idea as wholesale silly as Smac a Mac is doing above.

 “when in reality D&B were the reason the show got made in the first place and all those great female characters were brought to television for a wider audience to experience.”

Hollywood had been wanting to adapt George R. R. Martin’s books for years before he let D&B do it

Their first pilot was so bad they had to reshoot it.

They weren’t the reason we got those great female characters. Martin’s writing was why we got those characters and those good stories and why anyone wanted to make his books into a live action property at all.

Again, RD FAILING at nuance. A female character can have good writing AND bad writing. They can be good over all but drop the ball in certain moments. They can be great for 7 seasons but then fumble disastrously at the finish line. An opinion shared by all those critics that went to film school

Writers can be capable of doing good female characters even if they are misogynists. Writers who are not misogynists are capable of still being sexist at times. Friggin Stan Lee had sexist female characters in spite of also inventing Mary Jane who is lauded as a great female character even in the 1960s. Again, nuance. Mac Attac ain’t good at it.

“We can dislike or criticize a work without having to demonize the creators,”

It’s not demonizing D&B or Zdarsky to call them incompetent writers.

“and I think it's just become far too easy nowadays for people to rationalize their statements by making the creators themselves into remorseless villains, since that justifies them acting however they please in response.”

And it’s become far too difficult for me to stomach any more of this piece of shit.

*For what it is worth, these events are also listed on TV Tropes under the Face Heel Turn page:

Daenerys herself falls victim to this in the final seasons. Her actions in Essos had the purest of intentions: fighting against the Dothraki's misogyny and ending slavery in western Essos. Even her morally questionable acts still had these goals in mind. But when she set her sights on conquering Westeros, which is more or less a standard medieval European setting, her only goal was conquest. Even her claim that the Iron Throne is her birthright falls short since her father was killed due to his madness and love of burning things. Dany really doesn't help her case by burning alive any captive soldiers who don't side with her. This culminates with her slaughtering most of King's Landing's civilian population in the penultimate episode. Had the show started with the sixth season, there'd be no question that she is Daddy's Little Villain, her tragic backstory and past heroic deeds being a footnote at best.

**This is especially ironic as he’s accused me of doing the same.

Me, I’ve called people out or corrected them when they have gotten facts wrong. I’ve even said they don’t know what they are talking about. The difference is I’m not doing it just on principal as he is here.

I’ve never said someone doesn’t belong in the fandom or is not a real fan. Yet here RDMacQ is outright disqualifying people from having the legitimacy to critique comic books unless they’ve gone through what he deems the ‘appropriate steps’.

If I have told someone they are wrong or don’t know what they are talking about or don’t understand the material I have corroborative EVIDENCE to back it up. Their own statements prove that point.

E.g. RDMacQ doesn’t understand Norman Osborn’s character. Why? Because his statements contradicts the clear cut TEXT (not the subtext) of the source material. See? The source material is the EVIDENCE that supports my accusation. But RDMacQ doesn’t believe in analysis that way and has told me so himself.

***This laughable in he modern day and age where film criticism is so transparently ideologically driven as opposed to sincerely critiquing the merits of a film.

Hence why Bob Chipman and most other professional critics laud works like the Last Jedi which a fifth grader can see has little internal consistency.