#ugh canny believe theyve done this

[i-lovethatforme]

petermay edit to marjorie by taylor swift…..😢😢

hrmph: a fic where May knows Peter too well. (also me just seeing this says edit and not a fic and so sorry to you idk how to do those and i already wrote this bye love you)

Peter hasn't been this terrified since the statue of liberty. Since he lost everyone he's ever loved. He's been vaguely content to be alone for the past three years because loneliness is all he deserves and there hasn't been anyone to tell him to stop. To open himself back up to love. To do anything that suggests he doesn't have to come home to a cold apartment and a mountain of bills.

There's been no one because he made sure there was no one.

But somehow, he has a letter addressed to him. And it's from May. And he knows from the way she dated the envelope that she wrote it hours before she died. He doesn't know what it says because his fingers are trembling too much to possibly open it.

But he knows that somewhere in her words, she's going to tell him it's okay. That she's happy. And he's hardwired to listen to her. To trust her. So he'll have to revaluate how he throws himself into patrol to cope with his grief if she so much as mentions it.

But more than that. He'll have to come to terms with the fact that she's truly gone. He'll have to live with the fact that she's dead, even if he convinces himself she's still around when he sees a bunch of yellow daffodils. Or when he sees meatloaf in the store that he always wants to buy but knows he'll never eat. Or when he sees someone at FEAST.

But her living on in the small things that bring him happiness is enough. It will have to be enough because he tears the envelope open. It's too late to pretend.

He chokes down a sob at her frantic writing. God, the way he misses her. Peter swallows thickly, rubbing the back of his hand over his face to keep stray tears away from her words as he reads.

Hey sweetheart,

I’m hiding in your bedroom right now. I just offered Otto saltwater because he’s an octopus so I’m taking a break to wallow with my shame and think about my life choices - and write this letter to you. Just in case.

Right now you’re working on fixing a few issues with the guys in the lab. Something I don't quite understand because everyone was talking too fast and honestly, it’s a little boring - but I trust you. I’ve always trusted you - so I’m just hanging around. I trust you but I’m not leaving my son with a couple of creepy villains even if they do seem semi subdued right now.

You've got a good plan - I think, but I still can’t tell if it’s going to go well if I’m honest. I never did have your optimism. Because you’re just so good. And I’m so proud of you - I’ve always been proud of you. You’re the kindest person I know (even if I do wish you’d put your bowl in the dishwasher so I didn't have to tut every day I see it).

But just remember, with great power comes great responsibility. And remember not to be so kind you forget to be clever. Though, I think you’re probably crazy enough to think you can save the world and smart enough to pull it off. That’s my boy. Always just the best guy I know.

But if you’re reading this - I’m probably ten toes into heaven, huh?

I want you to know whatever happened - I was never scared, okay? How could I be? I’m going to see Ben. And we’ll talk about how grown up you are - how you’ve still got your chubby little cheeks and your fluffy eyebrow. How unbelievably proud of you we are.

And whatever it was that took me down - hopefully, something cool, right? I’m going to haunt someone if I was taken out by falling debris. Whatever it was, please don’t blame yourself. I want you to promise me, okay? Just that you’ll try. You’ll at least try to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. Promise me that you’ll just try - for me, okay? That’s all you’ve got to do.

I love you to the end of my life and more - but my choices have always been my own. Whatever happened, however I died. I did it entirely happy to at least be with you. I would never leave you alone.

Ugh, that got heavy so let's talk about - oh! (you just had a successful trial downstairs, I can hear you calling MJ about it…) Let's talk about MJ. I haven’t had a chance to tell you how much I adore Michelle. (She told me to call her MJ… it only took me a few minutes, jealous it took you years?) She’s great! I knew she would be - she likes you so she’s already got a good head on her shoulders. Plus, not that it matters, but she’s beautiful. You sure know how to pick them, bug boy.

I know not everyone loves for the first time and gets lucky for the rest of their life. Not like Ben and I. So, whoever you end up with. Just love them as Ben loved me and how we love you, wholly, completely and so they never feel alone - even if you have to leave them.

Speaking of… We had some fun, didn’t we? I can’t believe it was barely two years ago that I taught (well, we found a youtube video but semantics) you how to tie a tie. And how to dance! (Even if I’ve seen your moves since and it’s possible another lesson is necessary.) I hope you’re still dancing.

Raising you was the best thing I’ve ever done. The absolute joy of my life. Having a child was never in our plans and I can’t think how now - I can’t remember a time when you weren’t here. When you weren’t the largest part of my heart. And though if you’re reading this - I’ve already gone, just know that I’ve never been anything but proud to be your mum.

And because I’ve had that privilege - because I know you. Here are a few more parting pearls of wisdom you know I just love to give you.

Stop hiding from everyone.

Wash behind your ears.

You’re allowed to be loved. You are so deserving of love.

Throw that beanie out, sweetie.

Throw happiness around like confetti.

And for the last time my boy, but remember it’s forever and always, I larb you.

P.S. I put the recipe for my meatloaf on the back. (I heard Otto talking and I’m not sure I can face going back outside yet.)

P.P.S I put the brownie one on there as well - so you can actually use that instead of ignoring it.

P.P.P.S I larb you.

Peter's not sure how many times he rereads the letter, but the words an imprinted into his mind. The way she'd be so disappointed in how his life is going. The way she only even wanted him to be happy. The way she put her entire life on hold to make sure he always was happy.

So, he pulls his phone out and puts a song on. It doesn't matter which one if he's honest. He's a little stiff, his hips barely moving and his arms won't loosen up but he hasn't used his body for much more than throwing punches and dodging hits for so long. But by the third song, it gets easier. He remembers the way May taught him in their living room. The colours on the pillows, the smell of the candles, the sound of May grimacing at his attempts at being smooth.

It's the closest he's felt to her since he lost her. Even with the times he visits her grave. It's nothing like right now.

It's better already. He's happier already and he only really needed a pep talk from May. That's all he ever needed. Maybe he'll reach out to MJ or Ned... but for right now, he sways around his apartment and he thinks about May.

It's as if she's still alive. He knows better. But he still feels her around. He knows better. But she's still around.