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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

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Misser Star’

By @joyful-soul-collector for @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam!

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Helen Cho

Summary:

“Woah there Sea Legs,” Tony said, catching him under the arms and setting him up straight. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” “The sea is in my legs,” Peter said, clinging tight to Tony’s arm as he wobbled slightly. “What if my legs… were in the sea?” “Oh wow--this is going to be fun.”

Peter gets his wisdom teeth taken out, and is a very silly lad

Story is under the cut, or you can read it on AO3!

Irondad Tag List: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty

Lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

“Misser Star’, there’s clouds i’ m’ mouth,” Peter mumbled around the cotton, staring at Tony with wide eyes. Tony laughed and pulled Peter’s hand away from his mouth, as he was trying to touch the “clouds”.

“Don’t mess with those, you need them to stop the bleeding,” Tony said with a small laugh.

“I’m bleeding!?” Peter said incredulously. Then he suddenly gasped and grabbed Tony’s arm, a panicked look on his face. “Do they know!?”

“Know what kid?” Peter looked around dramatically then yanked Tony’s arm closer so he could whisper in his ear.

“That I’m a spider,” he said. Tony snorted and gently worked his arm out of Peter’s death-grip.

“You’re good, kid. You’re at the compound, Helen was the one who operated on you. You remember Helen?”

“Karen?”

“No, Helen--”

“She’s my suit lady, she’s nice. But she can’t do tooth stuff Misser Star’--”

“No, kid, Helen was the one who did the work on your teeth, she’s a doctor--”

“I know who Helen is,” Peter said, as if Tony had told him this information several times before. Tony rolled his eyes and ruffled Peter’s hair, only to laugh when Peter raised his head and leaned into his touch, eyes slipping closed with bliss. He was like a little kitten, leaning into someone scratching behind its ear.

In fact he leaned so far he almost fell over, and Tony had to catch him by the shoulder, snorting at the panicked look on Peter’s face.

“Jesus, Dr. Cho gave you the Good Stuff didn’t she?”

“Had to, it was the only thing his metabolism wouldn’t immediately burn through,” Helen said, making Tony jump. “You two are alright to leave now, just make sure Peter doesn’t take that cotton out too early and give him some ice when the medicine wears off.”

“Thanks Doc,” Tony said. Peter made a noise of confusion and pointed at Helen.

“She’s not Doc Ock, Misser Star’! He has way more arms, and she’s way prettier,” Peter said. “I think you need new glasses.”

“I don’t even need glasses in the first place, kiddo,” Tony said with a snort, signing a couple papers Helen handed him.

“Oh yeah!? Then what are those!?” Peter said, pointing directly at the square sunglasses perched on Tony’s nose. Tony raised his eyebrows at him, the determined look on Peter’s face making it hard not to laugh.

“Sunglasses, not normal glasses,” Tony said, then he held out his arm. “Here lemme walk you back to the living quarters, I’m fairly certain you’re not gonna make it there yourself.”

“Why does the sun even need glasses?” Peter muttered as he pushed himself off the hospital bed, and almost immediately toppling over.

“Woah there Sea Legs,” Tony said, catching him under the arms and setting him up straight. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.”

“The sea is in my legs,” Peter said, clinging tight to Tony’s arm as he wobbled slightly. “What if my legs… were in the sea?”

“Oh wow--this is going to be fun,” Tony said, steadying Peter as he stumbled down the hallway to the elevator.

Peter babbled on and on about random stuff on their way to the living quarters, Tony having to physically restrain him from pressing all the buttons in the elevator, and had to answer his questions about extremely odd yet mundane things like “why is the ceiling in the sky?” only for him to forget what he asked entirely.

When they finally arrived, Tony walked him to the couch and sat him down, and Peter immediately curled himself into a ball, knees tucked under his chin.

“Alright kid, you wait here while I call your Aunt and let her know everything went good, alright?” Tony said.

“Wait here,” Peter repeated, with a determined nod. “Waiting waiting waiting. Like a rock.”

At this point Tony had absolutely no clue what Peter was talking about so he just said “Sure, kiddo”, and ruffled his hair before he stepped away for a few minutes.

“Hey, Tony,” May said when she answered. “How’s he doin’?”

“He’s alright, pretty damn loopy but fine,” Tony said, leaning against the wall of the hallway. “I’m glad you came to me about this, I was right, a normal anaesthetic wouldn’t have stood a chance against his enhanced metabolism.”

May chuckled and Tony could hear the bustle of the hospital in the background.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you Tony,” she said. “Thank you so much--Oh, shoot, I gotta go--”

“No problem, May, I’ll take care of him till you get off work. Just call me when you’re done, I’ll drive him over,” Tony said. May thanked him at least ten times before hanging up, and Tony chuckled to himself, slipping the phone in his pocket.

“Misser Staaaaaaar’?” Peter’s voice said from around the corner. It had a rather guilty tone to it, and Tony quickly rounded the corner to see him.

Peter seemed to have tried to grab a blanket, and in the process, had gotten himself rather tangled in it, now lying horizontally on the couch and staring up at Tony with a wide-eyed expression.

“Got tangled in your own web, huh Spiderling?” Tony said, smiling down at him. “Probably for your own good anyway. Might just leave you like that so you don’t get yourself in more trouble.”

Peter frowned indignantly at him, and suddenly started trying to wiggle himself into an upright position, since clearly Tony was just gonna leave him to die like this. Tony rolled his eyes and helped him sit up, but as soon as he tried to get him untangled, Peter leaned away, looking confused.

“What?” Tony said.

“I’m a burrito Misser Star’,” Peter mumbled, snuggling himself further into the blanket. “Spider-Burrito. Or Spider-Sushi. Or Spider-Ravioli. Or--”

“Spiders In A Blanket?” Tony suggested, and Peter’s eyes got wide.

“Oh my god--I’m a spider, and I’m in a blanket!” Peter whisper-screamed. Then he burst into laughter, throwing his head back against the soft cushions of the couch so fast Tony thought he might give himself whiplash.

“Jesus--Just you existing scares me kiddo,” Tony muttered, deciding tv would probably be the best distraction. Just as long as it isn’t a comedy. Kid might break his neck, Tony thought. It’s a good thing Luke Skywalker isn’t played by Jim Carrey.

Peter stopped laughing immediately as the Star Wars theme began to play, though his loud, comical gasp proved it wasn’t just the medicine wearing off.

“I LOVE STAR WARS!” Peter shouted, making Tony jump.

“Jesus christ--I know ya dork,” Tony said, watching Peter bounce excitedly in his seat on the couch for a moment before sitting next to him. Peter flumped into Tony’s side, giving a deep, dramatic sigh of contentment. Tony couldn’t help but give him a little one-armed squeeze; he knew how much Peter loved hugs.

Though he couldn’t expect Peter to be silent for more than a few minutes, now could he?

“Hey Misser Star’?” Peter said.

“Hey Misser Parker?” Tony said, imitating Peter’s tone and voice.

“What if I was hungry?” he said, either ignoring or completely oblivious to Tony’s teasing.

“Um, I would get you something to eat? I think there’s some soup I could warm up for you,” Tony said, looking down at Peter with raised eyebrows. Peter looked skeptical at the idea of soup however.

“Mmm, but what if I’m only hungry for something cold?” he said.

“Uh… you want a smoothie?”

“Something sweet and cold.”

“Smoothies can be sweet.”

“Something chocolate and sweet and cold,” Peter said impatiently. Tony rolled his eyes and looked down at Peter, who put on a very mischievous grin. He sighed in defeat. He just couldn’t say no to that silly face.

“Your Aunt’s gonna kill me when she finds out,” Tony said, getting up with a groan.

“No she won’t! I’ll protect you! I’m Spider-Man!” Peter said, trying to take his hands out of his cocoon/burrito, but only succeeding in tangling himself more. Tony snorted, dragging a tub of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and scooping some out into a couple bowls. By the time he came back Peter had freed his arms and was rubbing his hands over the fluffy blanket, muttering to himself. Tony helped him take the gauze out of his mouth, which had a surprisingly small amount of blood on it, as it seems his enhanced healing had taken care of it.

Peter ate his ice cream happily, eyes closing with bliss.

“Ice cream is my best friend,” Peter said around his spoon. “‘Cept for Ned. And MJ. They’re better than ice cream, but ice cream is like… real good friendo. Ten outta ten, would go to the movies with ice cream.”

“Ha, me too kid,” Tony said, scraping the last remnants out before setting aside his bowl to focus better on the movie. He never cared much for Star Wars, but he couldn’t deny that the fight scenes were pretty awesome. Peter eventually nudged him with his bowl to say he was finished, and then went back to his original position against Tony’s side.

It wasn’t until the movie was over that Tony realized Peter had fallen asleep like that, curled up tightly in the blanket, his face pressed into Tony’s chest. Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s hair for a moment, smiling as Peter relaxed even further against him.

“You caught all that, right Fri?” Tony said, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Of course Boss,” Friday replied. “Shall I send you the file for you to view later?”

“That’d be perfect. If there’s anything that’ll be more hilarious than Peter getting stuck in a blanket, it’ll be how red his face gets when he sees himself getting stuck in a blanket.”

Peter didn’t even wake up as Tony lifted him off the couch and down the hall to his room. He whined a little when Tony laid him on his bed, but was quickly consoled by Tony’s fingers running through his hair again.

“Goodnight ‘Spider-Burrito.’”

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #spider-man #Iron Man #the friendly neighborhood exchange #Marko's Fanfiction

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lil-ichigo-bunny · 3 years

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『Jai’s Wii Game Playlist』

These games are my favorite ones to play while small / I think would be good to play while small! (Some may be difficult for small kiddos)

Jai’s Top 10:

Mario Kart Wii! This is the game that started my true video game addiction. I one day want to become great at all the versions. Fun fact about myself- I won a Mario Kart Championship irl at a Comic Con one year!

Super Mario Galaxy 1 and 2 , these games are very fun and I highly suggest them!

PokéPark 1 and 2 , these! are! so! fUN!!!! Just trust me if you like Pokémon but like really cute- then you have to play these!!! You get to *be* a Pokémon!

Barnyard , based off the cartoon, this one has to be one of my most favorite Wii games while small, it- to me -is soooo good!

Disney’s Epic Mickey 1 and 2 , these games are amazing but might be a little difficult for tiny kiddos! This is where my obsession with Oswald the Lucky Rabbit came from! He’s so cute!!

Wii Sports , I love the tennis and bowling games so much (*´꒳`*)

Disney Infinity , very fun but you will need the accompanying figures to play it unfortunately (you don’t need all of them tho). I personally might own all the figures but not all the little “power up chips” (idk what they are actually called)

Petz Dogz 2 (and Catz 2), I have finished the dog version more times than homework- I adore this game with all my heart! You get to play as a dog who has to save the dog village (Pawville) from an evil wolf named Ivlet.

Littlest Pet Shop , mini games and collecting cute animals what else could a kiddo ask for?! I had an intense LPS phase and this game was one of my favorites for a long time! (I still have some old figures from when they first came out but they’re not in good condition- oh and the houses/playsets!!)

Madagascar Escape 2 Africa , oh how I love this game series! This one is my favorite! You get top,ah as all the main characters and go through the world whilst getting to play mini games! (Melmen’s and Gloria’s play throughs are my favorite parts!)

Honorable mentions:

Skylanders, very fun but you need figures to play

Disney Princess Enchanted Journey , kinda fun, you get to help out the Princesses and save their lands from the evil bogs! This one is aimed at women/girls only but anyone can play but your character has to be a girl unfortunately. Sorry lil Princes, Princettes and Royality!

Full List:

Animal Crossing City Folk

Babysitting Mama

Barbie (any)

Barnyard

Bolt

Carnival Games

Cars (any)

Cooking Mama (any)

Disney Channel All Star Party

Disney Infinity (needs figures to play)

Disney Princess Enchanted Journey

Disney Tangled: The Video Game

Disney’s Chicken Little: Ace in Action

Meet the Robinsons

The Dog Island

Petz Dogz 2

Donkey Kong Country Returns

Dora the Explorer (any)

Go! Diego, Go! (any)

Happy Feet

Harvest Moon (any)

Hasbro Family Game Night 1, 2 and 3

Hello Kitty Seasons

Hotel for Dogs

How to Train Your Dragon 1 and 2

Ice Age (any)

Just Dance: Disney Party 1 and 2

Kirby’s Dream Collection

Kirby’s Epic Yarn

Kirby’s Return to Dreamland

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

Littlest Pet Shop

Madagascar (any)

Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games (any)

Mario Kart

Mario Party 8 and 9

Monster High (any)

Nicktoons: Attack of the Toybots

Open Season

Penguins of Madagascar

Petz Catz 2

Petz Dogz 2

Phineas and Ferb (any)

Pikmin (any)

Pokémon Battle Revolution

PokéPark: Pikachu’s Adventure

PokéPark 2: Wonders Beyond

Puss in Boots

Puyo Puyo (any)

Ratatouille

Rilakkuma: Minna de Goyururi Seikatsu (if you can get your hands on this and know Japanese this one is super cute!! And you might need the Wii Fit board thing I’m not sure??)

Rio

Scooby-Doo! (any)

Seseme Street (any)

Shrek (any)

Skylanders (any) (needs figures to play)

Sonic (any, but be careful with these games, I suggest these for older regressors, since they tend to be difficult (to me) and some themes are *touchy*) I personally like Sonic Colors

Spongebob Squarepants (any)

Super Mario All-Stars

Super Mario Galaxy 1 and 2

Super Monkey Ball (any)

Super Paper Mario

Super Smash Bros Brawl (for older regressors!!)

Tamagotchi (any)

Toy Story Mania (kinda like the ride/game at Disney World!!)

Wall-E

Wii Sports

Wreck-It Ralph

ZhuZhu Pets 2 (anyone remember these little guys??)

I’ll add more when I find them!

#.jaibabbles #agere #agere games #jai suggests a game!#/tw pokémon

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madasthesea · 4 years

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@the-reverse-mermaid mentioned that it would be hilarious if my story, The Will of the Force, was actually a fanfic by Peter, and well... this happened. The closest thing to crack I will ever write.

There was a dull thunk as Peter’s phone fell to the worktop. Tony looked over with a raised eyebrow as he beheld the sleeping teen, but he didn’t try to wake him up. He’d told the kid to take a nap before working, but Peter had insisted he was fine.

Tony shook his head fondly as he stood from his stool and crossed over to Peter, grabbing a blanket from the couch as he did. He threw the blanket over Peter’s shoulders, then carefully readjusted his arm so the blood flow wasn’t cut off. He picked up Peter’s phone to lock the screen, glancing habitually down at the text there.

He paused when he caught sight of his own name.

Tony shed his long cloak, dropping it in a corner as he adjusted the setting on his lightsaber, lowering it to training level. It flared to life, a blue so pale it was practically white. The low humming of the crystal resonated in the Force and Tony smiled.

Rhodey’s own saber hissed into existence, green and steady. He smirked a little bit, dark eyes flicking over Tony’s relaxed stance.

In the corner, the padawans were slowing down, pausing to watch the duel.

“Kid, what the heck?” he muttered.

He wasn’t usually the type to snoop, but his curiosity was piqued. He scrolled up a little to the beginning of the document.

When he got to the part where Peter was introduced, he was officially flummoxed. Had... Peter written this? What was this anyway, a fanfiction where Tony and Peter were Jedi?

He kept reading, snorting when Peter injured himself and tried to brush it off. At least the kid knew himself well. He found his throat getting suspiciously tight as Jedi Peter talked about losing Ben, as Jedi Tony comforted him.

“We leave for Ilum tomorrow morning, Padawan.” Tony tried to keep his face straight, but the corner of his mouth pulled up into a half-smile without his permission.

Peter beamed.

“Yes, Master.”

Tony blinked in surprise at the abrupt ending. Maybe Peter hadn’t finished it yet?

He carefully set Peter’s phone down in a place where it could have easily fallen on its own, and went back to his desk.

He’d never known Peter liked to write, but that wasn’t that surprising if this is what Peter writes. He couldn’t imagine the kid coming in and saying, “Hey, I wrote a fanfiction about us as warrior monks with a special telepathic connection.” As it was, Tony was a little unsure of how to react. He couldn’t decide if he was flattered, amused, or a little weirded out.

He did know, however, that he was definitely going to give Peter a hard time about it.

Peter woke up from his impromptu nap half an hour later, blushing and wiping drool from his cheek. Tony had waved off his apology and set him on a task, waiting for the perfect moment to start his plan.

“Done,” Peter called, holding up the reassembled Iron Man gauntlet only half an hour after Tony had given it to him.

Tony looked up and smiled. “Well done, my young Padawan,” he said casually.

Peter’s proud smile froze. “What?”

Tony feigned a confused look. “You know, Padawan? Star Wars? Your absolute favorite franchise of all time?”

“No, no, I--I know that, I just--” he glanced towards his phone still on his workbench. “You’ve never called me that before.”

Tony shrugged. “Thought I’d mix it up. Fits, doesn’t it?”

Peter blushed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Tony turned back to his own work, smirking to himself.

A couple days later, Tony was purposefully in the piano room rather than the lab when Peter showed up for Tony’s weekend.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked as he hesitantly rounded the corner.

Tony finished the piece he’d been playing (from the minute FRIDAY told him Peter had arrived).

“Hey, kiddo.”

“What’re you doing in here?” Peter asked, coming closer to the stool.

“What does it look like? Playing the piano.” Tony scooted to one side, giving room for Peter to sit down next to him.

“I didn’t know you knew how.”

“My mom taught me,” Tony said, looking down as he played an easy scale with one hand. Then he cleared his throat, remembering why he’d set up this little rendezvous. “It’s important to have hobbies that aren’t just building and science. Artistic stuff, you know? Music, art, writing,” he said, glancing over at Peter as he said it. But Peter just nodded.

“Yeah, band was fun. Used a different part of your mind.”

“Yeah. You do anything else? Draw? Write?”

Peter shrugged. “I take pictures.”

And the conversation wandered that direction, without a confession from Peter about his Star Wars story.

“I would love to be a Jedi,” Peter sighed as one of the Clone Wars episodes plays. He was in full convalescence mode from a broken ankle, his pain meds making him just a little more candid than usual. Tony looked up from where he was pouring the kid a glass of juice, the opportunity almost too good to be true.

“That would be awesome,” Tony agreed, hurrying forward before Peter could change the subject. “What color would your lightsaber be?”

“Oh, blue for sure,” Peter answered immediately, accepting the cup Tony handed him.

“Nice. I think mine would be green.”

Peter’s brows instantly furrowed, his nose wrinkling. “No way. Yours would be blue, too.”

“That was decisive. Thought about this before, huh?”

Peter’s cheeks darkened. “Well, only like... in passing, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “So you definitely haven’t... written a story where you and I are Jedi and you’re my padawan? Just as an example?”

Peter’s eyes flew open, his jaw dropping as his cheeks turned an alarming shade of pink.

“No!” He practically shouted. “No, no I definitely haven’t.”

“Kid, I saw it,” Tony said, laughing at Peter’s comical reaction.

“Why were you looking at my phone?!” Peter yelped, sitting up straight on his couch cushion, his ankle cast getting tangled in the blanket he was under.

“You fell asleep,” Tony exclaimed, gesturing with both hands. “I was trying to be a good mentor and make sure you didn’t lose all blood flow to your arm!”

Peter buried his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing, oh my gosh.”

“Kid, it’s not that bad. Sure it was a little... surprising to read--”

“Please just kill me--”

“Pete,” Tony laughed, reaching forward and pulling Peter’s hands away from his face, but Peter just twisted and hid his blush with a throw pillow instead. “It’s fine. I’m flattered, really, that you would want me as your Jedi master in another life. And hey, you’re not a bad writer, kid. You should look into a creative writing course or something.”

Peter sat up suddenly, staring at Tony, his hands still trapped between Tony’s larger ones. “I didn’t write it!” He yelped.

“Peter, it’s fine, you don’t have to deny it.”

“I didn’t, Mr. Stark!” He finally pulled his hands back from Tony so he could flap them in agitation. “Ned did!”

Tony blinked. “Ok, that’s a little weird.”

“That’s what I told him!” Peter blurted, nodding frantically. “Cause we were just talking about being Jedi at lunch one day and how cool that would be and then he goes, “And Mr. Stark could be your Master,” and I was like, “Ned, that’s weird,” and then a few hours later I get an email from him and it was that story! But he actually writes for like fandoms and stuff, like posts it online and everything so he didn’t see why it was weird but oh my gosh he would die if he knew you read that, you can’t tell him ever.” Peter rambled, his cheeks getting a little red again from lack of oxygen.

Tony took a second to process the flood of information. “Well, this is not how I was expecting this conversation to go,” he said, sitting back and putting his hand on Peter’s uninjured ankle. “I was prepared for the blushing, and the stammering, and for you to offer to clean my lab for a month so I never bring it up again.”

“I would still like you to never bring it up again,” Peter grumbled, slouching into the corner of the couch.

“Are you going to clean my lab for a month?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Absolutely not. It’s impossible to clean up all the motor oil DUM-E spills. And anytime I clean the lab you throw things on the floor on purpose.”

“Fine,” Tony smirked, standing. “You better learn to answer to Padawan then, Padawan.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned. Tony huffed a laugh, leaning down to kiss the top of Peter’s head as he passed.

“That’s Master Stark to you,” he said, lightly tugging on Peter’s earlobe.

Peter groaned, even louder, and hid his head under the blanket. In the background, the Star Wars theme played as a new episode came on. Tony smiled and absently hummed along under his breath.

#this is absurd but it was fun #also look at me simultaneously complimenting and insulting my own writing #the true writer's life #Irondad and Spiderson #Tony Stark #Peter Parker #MCU #brotp: speaking of loyalty #my writing #fic #Star Wars AU #loosely

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roninhunt0987 · 3 years

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The Birth of Lil Geni The Fox

By: Roninhunt0987

X3 finally after posting a bunch of pics and etc I now have the time to do the fic of Lil Geni's birth... =3 this is her here btw if ya forgot: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/42450002/

anyway the last one I did with the 7 kiddos of Gen'ichi and Ninjara there was a 6 year time skip... O.o for this one will be a 3 year time skip meaning on that the 7 kiddos will be 9 while Lil Geni will be around 3 years old... O.o so yea... anyways sit back and enjoy the hilarity

Characters(C)belongs to their rightful owners

-Kato/Prower residence-

Ninjara: -in the bathroom doing a pregnancy test as she just woke up while the others are in the living room watching cartoons-

Gen'ichi: -relaxing with Suzuki-

Suzuki: -watching cartoons-

Ran, Rei, Reiko, Rika, Miwa, Nori and Gen'ichi Jr: -watching tom and jerry-

tv: -shows tom getting hurt as the iconic Tom screaming sfx is heard in the background-

Ran, Rei, Reiko, Rika, Miwa, Nori and Gen'ichi Jr: -laughs-

Suzuki: XD hehehe

Gen'ichi: XD heh

Raph: -in the kitchen making homemade pizza- hmmm

Mikey: -reading comics which are the IDW sonic comics which is issue 24 and winces because of reading the bit where whisper is crying- ohhh geeze

Whisper: -looks over Mikey's shoulder and winces a lil because of that pain of a memory she had to go through-

Tangle: -same- Mikey: -looks to them- O.o whats wrong??

Whisper: -breathes in and then out- this... well uhm

Tangle: believe it or not mikey this actually happened.... like years ago before sonic and co moved to Station square city to help with Dad and the others...

Mikey: oh geeze i'm sorry I never knew that

Whisper: mmhmm... about a year ago Tangle and I got adopted on the spot when we saw the comic issue for the very first time....

Jared: -walks on over- thankfully around issue 29 or so things got back to normal... or well least the start of it... sonic went missing and landed somewhere at the Sol islands... he later returned to the main land when blaze used her abilities to send sonic back to help... plus the fact I was told Omega was uhm... .w. busted up as he was only a head at the time

Mikey: you mean like Lopez from red vs blue

Jared: O_o wait what??

Mikey: ya not kidding -gets out issue 25 and shows the page where cream and whisper were having a chat while omega was yammering on and such-

Jared: -looks at it- O_O oh crap I did not notice that

Omega: -looks over and looks at it and facepalms because the fact he did behave like lopez when he was only a head which was detached from his body at the time-

Jared: -looks to him- O_o ya did notice and realized that did ya Omega: affirmative I was indeed behaving like that SP Vector: .w. well least ya didn't speak spanish like Lopez Omega: Derogatory insult: SHUT THE F**K UP YA STUPID CROCK OF S**T!!!

Jared: O_o;;;;;; uhhh... rouge

Rouge: -from the kitchen- Ya?? Jared: O_o since when Omega can swear

Rouge: -from the kitchen- uhhh I dunno couple weeks ago when he was looking at random youtube videos of the swear words and such as well as other stuff

Jared: O_o got it just checking -walks off- geeze louise now Omega can swear like a sailor now gawd

Mikey: O_o oooookay

Donnie: -walks in- O_o hey what happened I could of sworn I heard E-123 omega started swearing

Leo: -walks in from the kitchen- thats because he did cuz SP Vector said something stupid insulting to Omega

Donnie: O_o owch

Ninjara: -comes out of the restroom with the pregnancy test being positive and is behind Gen'ichi and shows him that she is pregnant again- ^///^ Gen'ichi: -notices- ^^ hehehe

Suzuki: hu??

Ninjara: X3 kids just so ya know ya mama is pregnant ya may expect a lil sibling to look after which makes ya as big siblings now

Ran, Rei, Reiko, Rika, Miwa, Nori and Gen'ichi Jr: X3 YAY!!! Suzuki: XP and another kiddo for me to spoil

Gen'ichi: ^^ yup

SP Vector: O_o oh no

-first 3 months-

Ninjara: -has music playing and has the earphones on her tummy so her child can hear it-

SP Vector: -about to say something stupid until he gets a Kunai to his head- oh s**t -drops dead- X_x

Ninjara: -relaxing-

-second 3 months-

Ninjara: -eating chicken Terraki with Peanut butter on it-

SP Vector: how are ya eating all that

Ninjara: -glares- rrrrrrrr

SP Vector: O_o geeze screw you too lady

Suzuki: -doing that same Alastor moment as she is smirking like him and has a chainsaw as she revs it-

SP Vector: oh s-

Censored screen: -CENSORED: DEAR GOD NOT AGAIN!!-

SP Vector: -screaming from behind the censored screaming in bloody murder as he is getting sawed up with a chainsaw- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

-final 3 months: the birth-

-Megaville City Hospital-

Ninjara: -squeezing Gen'ichi's hand-

Gen'ichi: .w. this is fine -from his mind: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!-

-at the waiting room-

everyone: -waiting and etc-

nurse: -wheeling Ninjara in with a lil girl 3-tailed fox girl-

Gen'ichi: -smiles-

Ninjara: -smiles-

Ran, Rei, Reiko, Rika, Miwa, Nori and Gen'ichi Jr: -gathers round looking to their lil sister for the first time- ohhhhh

Suzuki: X3 hehe

Nori: X3 whats her name mommy

Ninjara: X3 this is Geni

Donnie: O.O oh wow an albino... O.o pure white 3-tailed fox girl

Lil Geni: -opens her eyes for the first time to see she has red and blue eyes and the look of saying hu- ?

Suzuki: -smiles as she holds her for the first time- ^^ hehe hey there i'm ya aunt Suzuki

Lil Geni: mew -nuzzles-

Gen'ichi: X3 awwww

Lil Geni: -looks to Gen'ichi- X3 mew mew mew mew

Gen'ichi: -chuckles and gets her from Suzuki carefully- ^^ hehe

Lil Geni: -nuzzles on her daddy for the first time- mew

Raph: -chuckles- hehe

Lil Geni: -random sticks her tongue out at Raph- Blep

Raph: O_o uhhhhhhh

Mikey: -busts out laughing at Raph- XD hehehehehehe

Raph: >< WHY YOU- COME HERE!!! -chases Mikey- Mikey: OH GEEZE RUNNING TIME!!! -runs-

Raph: MIKEY!!! -chases him-

Frenchie: 3 years l-

Karl The Fox-bat: NOPE!!! -kicks Frenchie out of the way and clears throat-

Frenchie: -offscreen groaning in pain-

Karl The Fox Bat: :3 3 years later

Ran, Rei, Reiko, Rika, Miwa, Nori and Gen'ichi Jr: -all 7 of them are now 9 years old as its fathers day which also happens to be Lil Geni's third birthday-

Lil Geni: X3 hehe -eating her cake with her dad-

Suzuki: -smiles as she has something for Geni-

Lil Geni: -notices the old plush- O.o whats that Aunt Suzuki

Suzuki: ^^ well... this was an old plush I have when I was about your age... =3 her name is Scrub... X3 I am passing her to ya now kiddo its all yours take care of her always... X3 come to me if ya want me to maintain her oki

Lil Geni: X3 oki thank you -hugs Scrub the plush- ^^

Raph: -about ready to give her b-day punches which he is gonna do carefully and then gets a cake splatter on his face from SP Vector- ._.;;;;

SP Vector: -laughs like Nelson- HA HA!!! Raph: -glares as he gets the cake off his face- YOU ARE SO DEAD CROCFACE!!! COME HERE!!!

SP Vector: OH CRAP AHHHHHH!!!!!

Karl The Fox-bat: :3 2 hours of asswhooping later

SP Vector: -in a full body cast- oooooggghhh

Leo: .w. never splat cake in raph's face

SP Vector: -muffles- oh bite me

Leo: ._. -does a karate chop on SP Vector- WHAP!!!

SP Vector: -his body cast breaks in two and has the look of utter pain on his face and insert Mamaf**ker SFX: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edry0kuy8bo– MAMAF**KER!! Stupid Mario: -offscreen and yells it also: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edry0kuy8bo - MAMAF**KER THATS MY A LINE B***H!!! SP Vector: >< WHATEVER!!!

Scene: -does a small fart noise of blacking out-

TFS Nappa: .w. the end

-XD END XD-

-RH0987 PRODUCTIONS 2021-

@otakuneko-lotus

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Have the SS Glaive already met the Taur Glaive? (And how does the Dissidia go down in the Taur verse anyway? Are they taken to a taur Dissidia or a normal Dissidia?)

Ohhhhh no, no they have NOT met the Taur Glaive yet which is a crying shame. I won’t touch on it too much rn because I do want to answer the Dissidia half of your ask sometime this century but like:

So much confusion.

The human glaives have more feral instinct than the glaives with animal halves and it’s weirding out all parties. The Nyx’s stare and point at each other (because one is human male and the other is fem coeurltaur) SS!Lib has a supreme moment of confusion when he has to look UP to lock gazes with his half-horse (HALF-HORSE) self. Amissa finds everything highly amusing.

In general both sets of glaives get along because Amissa and both Titus’s are there (also Titus and Moose!Titus have a really long staring contest because while SS!Titus is Tol, Moose!Titus is even Tol-er and also has a snoozing Ardyn loaf on his back) to ensure no fighting happens. While the Regis’s slowly lose their minds (and human Regis gets stabbed in the feels at the sight of Aulea), the two glaives are just- chillin’. Comparing notes. Getting confused over taur biology and secondary genders respectively.

At one point Taur Cor shows up, takes one look at his human counterpart lounging against Amissa’s side in a surprisingly lionlike pose despite his lack of a lion half and gets … curious. He challenges Amissa to a fight. Ardyn raises her head from her nap in curiosity, Amissa just laughs.

All the glaives place bets on the person from their dimension, but it’s the SS!Glaive that win the bets because Amissa has dealt with a LOT of enemies, beast and man alike and a Taur isn’t quite weird enough to throw her off guard. Taur!Cor is a Shock. SS!Cor is a Pride. Ardyn immediately hops down from Titus’s back, surprising everyone with the revelation that she’s female since she isn’t wearing enough layers to disguise it, and trots over to Amissa to chat excitedly with a fellow S/O of Cor Leonis. Amissa just rolls with it since “rolling with it” is basically her default setting.

The Nyx’s somehow get into shenanigans together, with SS!Nyx gleefully hitching a ride on Taur!Nyx’s back at one point to escape (the Libertus’s) the consequences.

The Taur counterparts are still weirded out by how … feral their counterparts are. How they alternate from two legs (weird) to four limbs (which includes their hands and thus is even weirder) without so much as blinking.

The Taur’s debate for a WHILE over what Amissa’s Taur half would be, just because everyone else has a counterpart but she doesn’t. The SS!Glaives all insist she’d be a dragon, even after they’re told only LCs and Oracles could be dragons. Their Mamai is epic and dangerous and deserves to be a dragon. Fite Them.

Dissidia is Great™. The Taur’s totally get yote into the more canon Dissidia where no one else is a Taur, just for the sheer confusion (and to save me having to come up with the Taur half of all the other champions thank you). There is SO MUCH CONFUSION on both sides because “Taur???? Not Taur????” Like- Nox and Ardyn are pretty chill with it since they used to be humans, but the humans are like “half-dragons????????” and Regis and Noctis are like “where the rest of your legs???????” and it’s all very comical. Seph and Nox still end up being buds, with Sephiroth taking a nap at one point with his head pillowed against Nox’s side under his wing while Nox instinctively cat curled around him and tangled his tail around Seph’s hands. Cloud was quietly losing his mind over in the far corner.

Regis and Ardyn give rides to the human kiddos like Onion Knight, Terra, etc. They can’t help it, the instinct to Dad and Aunt respectively is too strong.

The fight with the planes gorger is 70% more epic with fire (and lightning) breathing dragon-taurs on the field. Regis is doing more swoops and spins than he has since he was twenty and honestly LOVING it while Ardyn is gleefully flitting around the monster’s head, raining armiger down on it and snarking the entire time. Nox is basically flying artillery because of how much magic he has and Noctis is so fast at one point even Sephiroth loses track of him in the melee.

Meanwhile, via Crystal-o-vision, the various Taur Shields plus Aulea, Nyx, and Ignis are LOSING THEIR MINDS. REGIS LOOK OUT. ARDYN STOP FLYING RIGHT PAST THE MONSTER’S FANGS YOU’LL GET EATEN AT THIS RATE. NOX HOW ARE YOU STILL SPAMMING FIRE SPELLS AREN’T YOU TIRED YET GET TO A SAFE DISTANCE YOU MORON. NOCTIS DON’T YOU DARE -.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Stand Strong Verse #Nox verse #Nox!Taur verse #dissidia!

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cranetreegang · 4 years

Text

4) 7 Day Fallout Writing Challenge: Coming Home

Day 4!!! This one was way too much fun to write. Decided to do present tense, and nearly wanted to die. Present tense sucks. It’s a bit on the longer side too. It’s like 1,400 words.

Fallout 3 again! I remember the first time I did Trouble on the Home-front, and I nearly blew the whole place up after I ‘saved’ them. Vault 101 is literally the breeding ground of assholes. EXCEPT for my main man Officer Gomez. He’s a real G.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: one curse word and mentions of dead people

Some dialogue (specifically at first with Amata) I did take straight from the game. So credit to Fallout 3 for that.

Amata gives me a smile of relief. The dark circles under her hazel eyes really aged her and her raven black hair is dull and tangled into a messy bun. With the conflict over, I can tell a weight is lifted from her. We move closer together, filling me with a certain nostalgia. I’m finally back with my best friend and I can’t wait to tell her everything that’s happened. To finally catch up without chaos ensuing. The stories I have will stomp anything we ever read in the Grognak Comics. I’m already forming plans on who we can go to for supplies. How I can help protect our people from the Wastes.

“I… I can’t believe it.” Amata whispers, pulling me from my grand plans. “My father… I can’t believe he’s stepping down. I can’t believe you got through to him.”

“We talked. I think for the first time, he actually listened. He… he didn’t even realize how wrong he was.” I take in the disarray state of the medical room. A place I saw as a sanctuary growing up. I could still see Jim laying stiffly against the wall when I first arrived. Or even Beatrice’s mangled corpse in the next room. A shake of my head returns me to the present. “But I set him straight.”

“Well, thanks for keeping your cool. Violence would only lead to more problems in the future.” She puts her hands on her hips with a prideful smirk. “It’s time for our dusty old Vault to have a new beginning and it’ll start by opening it up again, and this time for good. It’s a bright new day for the Vault…,” Her pause takes me off guard. She looks at me sheepishly. The same look she gave me when I first got here. “But I’m afraid there’s one thing that has to change.”

“Whatever it is, I’m happy to help.” I reassure her.

“I know you are and, on behalf of the Vault, I thank you for all you’ve done.” She places her hand on my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. She sounds too much like an Overseer already. “But there are still many who blame you for everything that happened. So I have to ask you to leave. I’m sorry, but the situation is just... too delicate for you to stay.”

My stomach feels like it’s in a knot; like I had been punched in the gut. I know I’m making a face as Amata continues, “Please. If you want to help the Vault, you need to leave.”

The sting of tears began and my throat’s tight. I stare her down with a bitter smile. “Just like that, huh? After everything I’ve done, you’re kicking me out.” I laugh a bit as I realize that was her plan all along. She knew I would come, she knew I would help, and she knew I wasn’t allowed to stay.

“No, it’s not like that.” Amata grabs my hands to bring my attention back to her. Her hands are so soft compared to mine. “But if you stay, it’ll just keep causing more problems. The Vault can’t take any more in-fighting. It’s just what has to be.” Her explanation only makes my blood boil. I swear, I knew raiders that were less cold-blooded than her. “It’ll be awhile before we’re ready to really go outside. But once the Vault is stable again, maybe we’ll see you out there.” She smiles sweetly at me, which feeds my disgust toward her. I let the silence fester before I rip my hands from hers. She frowns, but switches back to a sweet smile.

“I guess this is goodbye for now.” She reaches behind her and hands me a dirty utility suit. “It’s not much, but take this with you, to remember us by. With luck, we’ll meet again.”

I look at the grimy suit for a moment in a state of absolute shock. This is it? All that she sees me worthy of is some piece of shit suit?

“Goodbye, Amata. I have a feeling you’ll do just fine as Overseer.” The ice in my tone causes her to flinch. I give a parting glance to the room that was my whole life with my dad. Him teaching me how to treat cuts, bruises, sprains, and numerous other ailments. The trash and overturn tables made the bile crawl further up my throat. Freddie and Mr. Brotch walk over to me just before I turn away.

“Goodbye. We’ll miss ya.” Freddie says. His ‘Tunnel Snake’ leather jacket slipping off his slim frame.

“I never thought you would be back. I’m sorry you have to go. You were always a pleasure to have in class.” Mr. Brotch adds with his warm brown eyes giving me pity. But he does nothing to object to my banishment.

I almost roll my eyes at their pathetic attempts at a goodbye. “Good luck out there. You’ll need it.” I walk through the familiar yet ruined hallways of my home… former home. I pass by my room. My heart nearly shatters upon seeing Dad’s old bed, but I force myself to keep going. Residents line the hallways as their whispers and glares follow me.

“Good riddance.”

“Get out.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“This is all your fault!” The voices say as I pass by.

I hold my head up high despite wanting to yell and scream at them. They’re supposed to be my family, yet here I am leaving with my tail between my legs. I’m at the security room when a familiar guard brings me out of my haze.

“Officer Gomez?”

He looks at me with sorrowful eyes. “You aren’t leaving already, are you? Goodness, you just got here.”

I curse my growing bad luck. He’s always been so kind to me. His salt and pepper hair made me think of a time long before that. The fondest memory being when he got onto Butch for stealing my sweet roll. I thought of him as my hero from that moment forward. I find it hard to look at him now.

“Yeah. It’s… for the best. Or so I’m told.” I mumble.

He places his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry about your daddy. And I’m sorry that… I wish you could stay.” I meet his gaze and he looks more upset than I am. “Good golly, I don’t know what’s happened to you out there, but you’re different now. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not... ,” He laughs a bit before giving me a beaming grin. “You’re not a kid anymore. I’m real proud of ya. I know you’re gonna do great things, kiddo. Always have. I hope we get to see you one day. Out there. Maybe you’ll be the one giving us the big tour of the place.”

I bite my lip to keep a sob at bay before hugging him as tightly as I can. “Thank you, Mr. Gomez. I’m gonna miss you.” My voice cracks and a few tears stream down my cheek.

He chuckles a bit, but hugs me back. “Stay safe.”

I nod my head and smile. “You too.”

He pats me on the back as I walk towards the exit. I spare him one last look. He waves with a warm parting smile. I walk outside and open the wooden slat door. The ground shudders from the vault closing. The breeze rifles through my hair and the dust fills my nostrils. The heat of the waning sun warms my skin. I hear the metal screeching of the vault sealing. My breath leaves my chest and a choked cry follows. It’s done.

I stare at the scorched landscape around me. Echoes of the past are all that’s left. Megaton catches my eye against the evening sun. I suppose that’s not entirely true, I realize. I think of Gob, and Lucas, and even Moriarty. I start to think of the Brotherhood, and the people of Rivet City. So many people that I’ve met, helped, or killed. I notice a furry blob heading towards me. A wide grin forms on my face when I realize who it is.

Dogmeat barrels up to me with yips of excitement. I pat his head while scratching behind his large ears. His rough fur feels great against my near numb fingers. His brown and blue eyes fill me with a comforting warmth.

“I missed ya, too. Ya mangy mutt.” I tease.

He nudges my wet cheek then takes off down the hill. I look back at the Vault. I feel over the utility suit in my hands. The 101 is a faded yellow against the dingy navy. I hang the suit on the wooden door and re-shoulder my rifle. I meet up with the enthusiastic pooch at the bottom who huffs at my lack of rush. He spins in place a few times before taking charge towards Megaton. Our home.

#vault720 #fo3 #officer gomez is a real g #fallout fanfic writers #fallout #fallout 3 #amata almodovar #7daychallenge

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fantastic-fantasy-fanfics · 4 years

Text

ROCKIN’ AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE

Rocking Around the Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

A/N: heeeeyy! This one is late again! And no lyrics! Sorry, I suck...

Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 620

Summary: Decorating the apartment is SO much fun with Peter around!

Warnings: none

Snow was finally falling, school was finally off for the holidays, and Peter was finally willing to let you help decorate! Christmas is always so magical!

Currently, Aunt May was out getting Thai food and some cake. None of you were good bakers. In fact, Peter was so bad at baking, he nearly burned the apartment building down last time he tried to make lasagna. So, for the sake of the Queens Fire Department and the other tennents, none of you would go near the oven unless heavily supervised.

For a while, Ned and MJ were over to watch “Elf” and exchange secret Santas. Now, as bad as you were at baking, you were BOMB at Secret Santa. Your secret? Gift Cards to their favorite store and some candy. It wasn’t like a physical gift where you might get something they don’t like, only for them to throw it out later, but it was still sentimental since you know them well enough to know where they shop and what candy they like.

You got Ned and got him a big pack of M&Ms, plus a gift certificate to GameStop. He was so happy when he opened it! And for once, MJ took the Secret Santa seriously. Instead of giving them a generic card and cash, she actually gave you a generic card and a drawing of hers! Okay, she may not have taken it seriously, but she put more effort into it this year.

“Peter! Where are the lights?” you called down the hall as you sifted through the multiple bins scattered around the living room.

“I’m detangling them right now!” he called back, “can you put up the lego people up in the meantime? Put them on the mantle,”

“You got it babe!” you answered, going over to the coffee table to grab the lego figures and houses and set them up over the fireplace. It was almost perfect, except one of the reindeer only had three legs and would tip over sometimes. Oh well, it was just a little character quirk.

The door unlocked and Aunt May shuffled in, bundled in a scarf, hat, and mittens to go with her coat and apple cheeks. “Hey kiddo,” she greeted, her voice muffled by the scarf, “geez, it’s freezing out there!”

“That’s what happens in New England, in December, while it’s snowing; it’s usually cold outside,” you giggled, helping put the bags of food in the kitchen.

“Alright smarty pants, you need to stop hanging out with Petey in there; he’s a bad influence when it comes to sarcasm,” she joked back, “did you save some decorating for me?”

“Almost all of it,” you replied, looking back at the living room crowded with bins and boxes and a glittery, tinsel-y mess, “we’d have more done if Peter would just get a grip on those stupid Christmas lights,”

“Not my fault they’re tangled worse than in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation!” he shouted from his room, prompting you and May to bust out laughing at his exasperated response.

After a few boxes of takeout were eaten and a few bottles of cola were empty, everyone was sitting on the floor, untangling the lights as they watched “ALF’s Special Christmas”.

“Damnit! These stupid wires won’t untangle!” you shouted

“Told you,” Peter responded

“Well, it only took us four hours, but we finally finished!” May cheered, huggin both you and Peter tightly, “who’s up for some baked goods?”

“Not in this house!” you and Peter shouted in unison

“I meant at a coffee shop,”

“Why does she get to drive?!” Peter whined, crawling in the backseat by himself as you stuck your tongue out at him playfully.

“Because she actually has her permit and you don’t,” May sassed, giving a comical shoulder-wiggle.

#peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker #aryschristmaswritingspree #arys christmas writing spree #Fantastic-fantasy-fanfics #reposting this because I accidentally deleted it

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losingmymindtonight · 5 years

Note

You should totally write a story about Peter being yeeted into a pool by a ghost

AN: Sometimes I write something and the only thing I can think of to put in the author’s note is just... “you get what you pay for and I’m free.”

Anyway, enjoy whatever the heck this is. I wrote a good few chunks of it on my phone in the vet’s office, so that’s the standard of writing we’re looking at here.

WARNINGS: drowning, ghosts, seizures

Peter had heard of sleep paralysis, but he was… pretty sure that this wasn’t it.

First of all, his spidey sense had been going off ever since they’d arrived at their hotel. And to be fair, the place was creepy. Plus, Tony pretty obviously agreed with him. He’d given the Victorian-esque decor surrounding the front desk one of his patented oh-god-kill-me-now glares, but had cut Peter off before he could verbalize a complaint.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know why. They were both holding their tongues for Pepper’s sake. She’d chosen the place because of it’s character, apparently, and she thought that staying somewhere with history would beat driving into the nearest city to find a Four Seasons.

Morgan, of course, had just enjoyed the gargoyles out front. Apparently, they were her new “friends.”

Peter was going to call an exorcist.

Or, actually, maybe Tony would have to call one for him, because he’d seen a decent selection of horror movies in his time, and it was never a good thing when one of the characters woke up paralyzed and staring down at a little girl sitting on the edge of their bed.

A little girl that most definitely was not Morgan.

Like he’d said, this place was creepy.

“Hello,” she said, and Peter just choked in response. He tried to ask who she was, what she wanted. More than anything, he tried to shout for Tony, but… but nothing came out. It was like there was a vice grip around his throat.

The little girl cocked her head to the side, a small, disconcerting smile on her face. “Will you play with me?”

Uh, no thank you, he thought, managing to struggle weakly on the bed, letting out tiny whimpers that would’ve been more than a little embarrassing if he wasn’t so sure that his heart was going to explode out of his ribcage, I’d actually really like for you to leave me alone to have my normal nightmares, thank you very much.

At first, he really had been 90% sure that he was dreaming. There was just… no way that this could be real. Now, though… he wasn’t so sure. He could feel sweat soaking into his t-shirt, could feel the sheets tangling uncomfortably around his ankles as he fought against the invisible force holding him silent and still. It… everything felt real.

It felt real, and that was fucking horrifying.

The little girl didn’t seem to need a response, and Peter had a feeling that the question wasn’t actually a question, anyway. Her smile didn’t fade, and she bobbed her head up and down, little pigtails bouncing as she did.

“I saw you playing with your sister, earlier. I want you to play with me, too.” Something sad fell across her face. “Nobody ever plays with me anymore. I’m all-”

His door clicked open, and the little girl stopped speaking, eyes darting over to the sliver of light falling over the bed. Suddenly, she didn’t look like a little girl anymore. Not really, at least. She seemed to be about Morgan’s age, and yet Peter had never seen that kind of pure, malevolent rage on her face before.

He hoped he never did, too.

“Shh,” she snapped, and Peter’s eyes slipped closed against his will, “you’re sleeping.”

Warmth melted through him, and his admittedly pitiful struggling stopped all at once. His breaths evened, gentled, and his head lolled off his pillow. His body felt asleep, but he was awake. He was awake.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice was safety and comfort and protection. “You have to promise not to laugh at me, but I… well, what do you and Morgan call it? My Dad Sense? Anyway, my Dad Sense was tingling. You alright in here?”

Thank god for the Dad Sense, he thought, and it tasted strangely like a prayer, if you save me, I will never knock you for it ever again. I promise. In fact, I’ve never been more serious about a promise in my life.

There were shuffling footsteps, and the mattress dipped as Tony settled down near his hip. Peter wondered if the little girl was still sitting there, too, or if she’d moved when Tony had.

Please leave. Please leave. Please, please leave.

A calloused hand smoothed over his face, brushing his sweat-soaked hair back.

“Oh, buddy,” Tony murmured, voice lowered in the soft-sweet way it always was when he thought that Peter was asleep. “Did you have a nightmare?”

The nightmare is happening, Mister Stark. As in, currently a thing. Please. Please. I’m here and I’m awake and I can’t move and I don’t know what’s happening to me.

“It’s alright.” But it’s not, Mister Stark, please, you have to help me. “I’m here now, yeah? Nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.”

It’s already happening. It’s already happened. Please, please-

“You’re really out of it, huh, kiddo?” Tony’s touch slipped away from his face, and his mentor started carefully working on untangling him from his sheets. “Did Morgan wear you out that much already?”

He found himself being tucked in, and the gentleness of Tony’s hands was a nearly comical juxtaposition with the terror filling up every inch of his body. Tony’s thumb brushed lovingly along his cheek as he moved his head back onto his pillow, his laughter quiet as he pried Peter’s hand away from the corner of the mattress, where he’d been trying to claw himself to safety.

“Sleep tight, m’kay?” Tony’s lips brushed against his forehead, and he wished he could cry. He wished he could do something. “And no more bad dreams, y’hear me? Iron Man’s orders.”

He stood up. The mattress sprung back, the floorboards creaked, footsteps moved away, paused.

An icy hand, a little icy hand, reached out and grabbed his wrist. The cold spread through him, slid up his arm, through his shoulder, up his neck, into his head. The world spun away, slow and lazy, like Mister Banner had just given him a huge dose of whatever pain meds he and Tony had synthesized for him and Mister Barnes.

Through the haze, he just barely caught Tony’s parting words.

“Love you tons, kid. See you in the morning.”

The door clicked shut, and Tony left him to his nightmare.

–

He… couldn’t remember when he’d started walking.

He couldn’t remember why, either, but he was holding someone’s hand. Or were they holding his hand? It felt like an important distinction, but thoughts were so heavy. So heavy and unwieldy and so obnoxiously hard to hold.

“We’re gonna go play!” A voice exclaimed. A high voice. A familiar voice, but not that familiar. It sounded like it was in his head, too. More direct and less sound wave. He didn’t know why that made sense but it did.

He didn’t know a lot of things.

They stopped in front of a building. It had flimsy glass doors, but there was a chain and padlock holding them shut. He felt a little bit like those doors. Flimsy and paper-thin and breakable. He’d never actually felt this weak before. Distantly, he could just make out a childish side of him, the side that found his current lack of control absolutely terrifying, whining and clawing and sobbing out for Tony.

He didn’t really know why, though. He didn’t feel unsafe. He just felt heavy.

The voice sounded again, somewhere to his right, and he knew that it was rude to ignore someone when they were talking to you but he felt so strange, so dazed, that the thought of turning his neck was just… too much. More than he could do, probably.

“They lock the pool during the nighttime so you’ve gotta let us in. Can you open the doors so we can play?”

He did. He barely remembered doing it, but he did. The chain snapped underneath his hands, and the voice giggled, bright and happy, and a cold grip re-found his fingers and pulled him over the threshold.

“I’ve always wanted a big brother,” the voice babbled, and he was distantly aware of the sound of the doors slammed shut behind them, even though he hadn’t touched them again. “You’ve been a good big brother to your old sister, but now it’s my turn.”

Sister? He… He had a sister. Yeah, that sounded right. She was important. He was supposed to protect her, he thought. Keep her safe. Her name was… something. Something nice. He liked her name.

They were standing in front of a metal safety railing, and the hand holding onto his tugged insistently.

“C’mon,” the voice urged, “you gotta climb over now.”

He did as he was told. The bars were cold, but so was he. He was… He was so cold. He hadn’t even realized until he’d thought about it.

God, he was freezing. It was an inside-outside freezing, too. He didn’t know that it was possible to feel ice crystals forming in your intestines but now he was pretty sure that it was happening to him in real time.

“Okay,” the voice said, cheerful, as if Peter wasn’t ice-burning, “now you’ve just gotta jump.”

He blinked his eyes open (had they been closed? Wait, how did he get here?) and took in his surroundings with numbed-out apathy. He was standing on the outside edge of a balcony. His arms were twisted awkwardly behind him, cold-stiff fingers wrapped around a metal railing, and there was a pool about a floor-drop underneath them. A covered pool. With clear plastic, maybe? He didn’t know. His vision was blurry, and his brain was mushy, and he didn’t remember how he got here.

“I can’t swim,” he said dumbly, eyelids drooping again. That seemed relevant, somehow. Like that was a thing that the voice should know.

He didn’t remember how he got here.

“I know!” The voice chirped back, and he guessed it wasn’t as relevant as he’d thought, because it sounded like the person who belonged to it was smiling. “But that’s okay. It won’t hurt, and then we can play together.”

He… He didn’t think that this was right, even though the voice seemed to think that it was. He didn’t want to jump. He didn’t want to be cold anymore, either. He wanted to go home.

He didn’t remember how he got here.

Had he climbed over the railing? He… He didn’t know. Why would he do that? He didn’t like heights.

He was scared.

“I want Mister Stark.”

The voice sounded angry, now, and Peter didn’t like that. He didn’t like making anyone angry, but he also had a weird feeling that jumping would make Mister Stark angry, and he didn’t wanna do that, either.

“I don’t want your dad. I want you,” the voice snapped, but then it softened. It had a tiny whine to it, and it reminded Peter a different voice of a different person but he didn’t know who they were. “Please? I don’t wanna be alone.”

Something slammed into the doors behind them, and even through the cold-blur, Peter kinda knew who it was before they were shouting.

“Peter?!” Tony screamed, words muffled through the glass. “Peter, look at me!”

He turned, ignoring how much effort it took, and blinked back at the man’s fear-struck face in a daze.

“Mister Stark?” He asked, and even though it felt like he was talking around ice, the moment felt like a gasp of clarity.

Oh, god. Oh god. Why was he up here? Why was he so cold? Why was he actually considering jumping into a-

Something grabbed his wrist and pushed.

He was in freefall. Air rushed past him, and the clarity slipped away like stability in, well, in a freefall.

He was so cold, so confused and unsure and so, so tired.

He hit the plastic hard, and then he was underwater. It was cold and loud and he thrashed and thrashed and thrashed, scared and numb and wrapped in ice and vice and parachute and pool cover and the distant buzz of Tony screaming for him.

At some point, he managed to break free from the plastic and clawed desperately up to the surface for a precious gasp of air, but then he was being shoved down, down, down all over again, and Tony was still screaming and Peter hated that he was making him sound so animalistic, so horror-fueled and afraid, but he didn’t know how to make it stop because nothing made sense anymore and he didn’t know where to swim, where to hit or kick or punch, and his vision was blotting out and his lungs were screaming, aching, desperately trying to force him to-

He gasped, and water rushed down his throat.

The world went quiet. Soft, almost. He stopped thrashing, limbs giving in, adrenaline throwing in the towel. It was nice. He guessed he understood what the voice meant, now. There was a peacefulness to this, a relief in losing touch. Tony’s shouts didn’t sound so sad anymore. He stopped processing the intent, only focused on how nice it was to hear his voice.

He only half heard the sound of shattering glass, only half heard the chaos of closer shouts, only half heard the huge splash of another body hitting the water a few feet away. He only half felt a new wave of water bob over his head, only half felt strong arms wrap desperately around his chest, only half felt his body be pulled up, to the side, over the lip of the pool and be settled down on cold tile.

He guessed he could probably breathe at this point, but he was so cold. So heavy. Waterlogged and undone. Maybe he’d just… maybe he’d just sleep instead.

“Peter,” Tony’s voice gasped above him, also sounding heavy and waterlogged and undone. “Peter, kiddo, don’t do this.”

“Tony, sweetheart, roll him over.” Oh, that was someone that Peter knew, too. He’d probably be able to recall her name if he didn’t feel about half a second away from slipping into oblivion. “We need to drain the water out of his lungs.”

Someone rolled him over, cushioned the side of his face so it didn’t bang against the floor. Hands rubbed at his chest, thumped at his spine. His lungs spasmed, stomach roiling like he was about to vomit, and it didn’t feel nice at all but then Tony seemed beyond happy about it, sobs of relief spilling out and his hands rubbed up and down his back, soothing and coaxing and Peter didn’t like how sick and tired he felt but he did like that. He liked that a lot.

“There you go, buddy.” Tony was crying. He was crying and choking and Peter felt really, really bad about that. “That’s it. Just like that. Cough it up. You… You gotta cough it up, Pete, you’ve gotta breathe.”

And he did. He gagged, coughed, gagged again as water and bile rushed back up his throat, burned through his nose. His first breath hurt like nothing else had ever hurt in his life, but he took a second because Tony was begging him to.

He didn’t remember how he got here.

Had he fallen into water?

“Shh, shh. That’s it. You’re doing so well, Peter. You’re doing so well.”

“Tony, we need to call an ambulance.”

“No, fuck. No. They’ll want to run blood tests and then they’ll figure out that something’s up with his DNA. And they’ll wanna know how he ended up in the pool, and if we tell them the truth then they’ll put him on suicide watch-”

Peter pried his eyes open, and the rest of Tony’s breathless speech seemed to die on his tongue.

“Hey, hey,” the man murmured. His palm settled against Peter’s cheek, and the warmth was nice. It was so nice. He was so cold. “You’re okay, bud. I’ve gotcha.”

Something moved over Tony’s shoulder, by the pool edge, and Peter’s eyes lazily tracked the silhouette. It was a little girl, gray dress swaying around her knees, and he blinked. Stopped. Remembered.

He remembered. He remembered how he got there.

“T’ny,” he slurred, cold creeping up his neck, into his chest. He tried to grab a fistful of the man’s shirt, but he couldn’t move. All he managed was a weak twitching of his fingers. “T’ny, you gotta… ‘s a…”

“What, Pete?” Tony asked, eyes wide and wild. “What is it that you need?”

“No!” The little girl snapped, stomping her foot against the ground, flickering and blipping, aura bright and screaming. “No! You’re supposed to play with me.”

An ice-cold shock raced through him, like the opposite of lightning, and his eyes rolled back.

His eyes rolled back but he was still awake, just like earlier, because he remembered that now, he remembered all of it, but it also wasn’t just like earlier because his muscles were tensing and he felt his arms jerk inwards, felt his ankles drag against the floor, heard the little choking noises coming out of his own mouth.

He was going to die. She’d tried to drown him and that didn’t work so now she was doing this, and he was going to die.

At least Tony was holding him this time.

Tony, who was crying again. Tony, who’s shaking fingers were dragging desperately over his face. Tony, who’s voice cracked on every syllable but who refused to stop his comforting ramble no matter how often he tripped over himself.

“Oh, god. No, no, no. It’s-It’s okay, Peter. Everything’s gonna be okay. Mister Stark’s here and he’s gonna fix it, alright? It’s okay. I-Pep, call Banner. No, fuck, call Strange. Tell him to get his magical ass here yesterday. Pete? You still with me? I know it hurts but you’re safe. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe and I’m-I’m right here.”

He was so cold. Everything hurt. Something warm and coppery was filling his mouth, and he knew that that was wrong but then again he also knew that there were about a hundred other wrong things happening all at once, and everything was terrifying. He was supposed to be a superhero and superheroes weren’t supposed to be scared of stuff but maybe he wasn’t a very good superhero at all because everything was terrifying.

Something hissed to life by his head, and an orange light glowed through his eyelids. Tony was shouting at someone, using the I’m-not-actually-angry-I’m-just-scared voice that he did sometimes, when Peter or Morgan got into a mess that they shouldn’t have, and someone else was shouting back, and the clatter of voices was making his head hurt even more than it already did.

But then it all faded into quiet and Tony was talking to him again. He wasn’t yelling, either, which Peter liked because he really didn’t like it when Tony yelled at him. In fact, his tone was so soft that Peter could barely hear it through the blood rushing in his ears.

“You’re not allowed to die on me again,” Tony whispered, and Peter wished he could breathe. He wished he could promise Tony that he wouldn’t. “You’ve faced worse than this and come out the other side, Parker, so don’t you… don’t you dare die.”

Time didn’t seem to make sense for a while after that. For all Peter knew, he’d been seizing for ten years, or ten hours, or ten minutes, or ten seconds. The only constant, the only consistent thing, were Tony’s hands brushing something wet off his face and Tony’s voice running and running and running, until it turned into a while noise machine.

But then there was a shout, and a whoosh, and it felt like something was tearing out of him, like tags off of new throw pillows, like Velcro off of the Iron Man shoes he’d had when he was a little kid, and his consciousness tore away with it.

He wasn’t even awake long enough to appreciate the relief of his muscles finally going limp.

–

Peter woke up cold and confused.

He’d been in bed, hadn’t he? And this… this definitely wasn’t his bed. This was cold and lacking in blankets and… and…

And very not lacking in Tony Stark.

“-back to me now, Pete. I need you… I need you to show me that you’re still alive in there.”

He forced his eyes open, wincing at how badly they were stinging. His throat and chest hurt, too, and his whole body ached like he’d taken one hell of a beating. What had happened? Why couldn’t he remember?

“Huh?” He asked, blinking up at the blurry shape that he assumed must be Tony.

The man laughed, a little hysterical. “Very eloquent, buddy. Just… Just relax a second. We’ve been through a lot.”

Had they? When?

“Wha’ happ’ned?”

Huh. He hasn’t actually expected that to come out so slurred.

His vision was clearing, slowly but surely, and he could see just well enough now to make out the frown on Tony’s face.

“Don’t you remember?”

“No?”

A new figure was kneeling down beside him, and Peter wasn’t sure why that made him jolt, but it did.

“Peter,” Strange said, because yeah, that was definitely Strange. What was he doing here? Weren’t they on vacation? “This is very important. Is anybody else here besides me, Tony, and Mrs. Stark?”

He hasn’t actually noticed Pepper before, but he saw her now, kneeling just behind Tony and rubbing his back. Giving comfort to the comforter, he supposed, but Tony seemed too focused on him to notice.

“Why would there be-”

“Just look, Pete,” Tony ordered, voice frantic. “Please, just trust me and look.”

“Uh,” he glanced around the room, head aching as he strained his eyes, searching every corner for something that didn’t belong, “no? It’s just us.”

“You don’t see a little girl anywhere?”

Huh? What he hell was Strange talking about?

“No?” He shook his head, then regretted it when his whole body groaned in protest. “I mean, Morgan’s not here.” Adrenaline shot through him, and he tried to sit up, although Tony held him down pretty effectively. “Wait, is Morgan okay?”

“Morgan’s fine,” Tony said, face strained, “she’s fine. She’s asleep in her room. Please just lay back now, Peter. There’s only so many heart attacks a man can survive in a single night.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, although he wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for.

“It’s not your fault,” Tony reassured.

Strange was quick to agree. “He’s right, Peter. Do you truly have no memory of how you got here?”

No matter how much he wracked his brain, nothing came up. He just remembered saying goodnight to Tony, changing into some sweatpants, and crawling into bed. There were no more memories after that, although there was a sneaking suspicion that he’d… that he’d missed something. Something important.

“No. I, uh, I just remember going to bed.” Peter caught Tony’s gaze, and held it. “What happened?”

“Shh,” the man said, and Peter hated it when he shushed him like that. It always made him feel small, and he only ever did it when Peter was asking a question that he didn’t want to answer. “It doesn’t matter right now.”

“It does.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Tony plowed forward before Peter could get another question in. “How do you feel?”

“Kinda like roadkill.”

Strange leaned closer. “But do you feel cognizant? No confusion, no sensation of someone else influencing your actions?”

That might be the most ridiculous question Peter had even been asked, and he’d been best friends with Ned Leeds for a solid ten years.

“Alright, alright,” Tony snapped before Peter could even begin to formulate an answer to that mind-bender, looking away just long enough to glare dangerously at Strange. “That’s enough. Let’s give him some space. No more questions, no more anything. Let’s just… we’re just gonna let the drowned kid breathe, alright? Jesus.”

Yeah, that would be nice. He’d just… He’d just lay there a second, wait until some of the pounding in his head receded, and then he’d-

Wait. Hold on.

Hold on.

Mister Stark had said… He’d just said…

“I’m sorry,” he tried to jolt upright again, but Tony’s grip stopped him, “I what?”

–

“Okay. So... So just let me get this straight,” Peter said, burrowing closer into both the comforter wrapped around his shoulders and Tony, who had yet to relinquish his grip on his shoulders since they’d gotten back to their hotel room. “You’re telling me that I got possessed by a ghost?!”

“Less possession, more influenced,” Strange responded, settling down on the coffee table in front of him.

Yeah, Peter thought, holding back a bitter laugh, like that makes it any easier to swallow.

“I was influenced by a ghost?”

“Indeed.”

“But… But why?”

Strange always seemed concerningly stoic to Peter, but the question brought a hint of sadness to his eyes.

“I had Wong delve into the history of the hotel while I dealt with the spirit. According to his research, this hotel has been operating since the late 1800s, but was purchased by the Campbell family in 1933. They had two children: Margaret Campbell, age four, and Philip Campbell, age sixteen. Margaret drowned in the swimming pool in March of 1934, three days after her fifth birthday. Since then, the hotel has reported at least eleven other drownings, all of boys between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Each story is similar. The victims go to sleep in their beds, sneak past their parents sometime in the night, and their bodies are found in the swimming pool the next morning. The deaths are usually ruled as either suicides or accidents.”

Tony’s arm tightened around him, and Peter was grateful for the anchor as he tried to process the barrage of information.

“I don’t understand,” he finally whispered, even though he thought that he might.

Strange watched him silently for a few seconds. In the end, it was Tony who spoke.

“She wanted him because of Morgan.”

“That would be our best guess.”

He swallowed. His throat still felt wrecked from, well, from drowning, apparently, even though he didn’t remember it.

“She’s been drowning kids who remind her of her brother.”

“Precisely.” Peter’s concern must’ve shown on his face, because Strange held up a calming hand. “But she won’t be hurting anyone else. I’ve laid her spirit to rest.”

Huh. Alright. If Peter didn’t already feel like he was in an episode of some random CW ghost hunting show, he certainly did now. “How’d you do that?”

Strange smiled thinly, then stood. His cape settled itself over his shoulders, waving a little as the sorcerer turned away. “A lesson for another time, perhaps. I’ll leave you, now. I imagine that Stark has it covered from here.”

Peter could feel the way Tony prickled at Strange’s dismissive tone. “I sure do, Dumbledore.”

Apparently, the sorcerer didn’t think that deserved a response, because he just opened a portal and stepped through without another word.

“You don’t have to be so mean to him, y’know,” Peter said, voice small. “He did save my life.”

Tony tensed, then forcibly relaxed. He set one of his hands on the back of Peter’s head and pushed his face into his collarbone. “Just go to sleep, kid.”

“Don’t you wanna go back to your bed?” He mumbled, voice muffled by the man’s t-shirt. He really kinda hoped that the answer was no.

“I have to watch you for dry drowning.”

“Oh.” Well, that was a relief. “Sorry.”

Tony sighed dramatically. “I don’t want to hear one more ‘sorry’ out of you until you’re 21, understood?”

“What if I actually do something that, like, I need to say sorry for?”

“Do you plan on doing something that you’d need to say sorry for?”

“I mean, no. Not really.”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Tony rubbed his back, and Peter could feel the tiny tremors still running through his hands. “Now go to sleep.”

To be fair, he did try. It wasn’t like he wasn’t tired. He was exhausted. Which, according to Strange, was a pretty normal thing to experience when a ghost possessed or influenced or whatever’d your brain.

It was just that the longer he sat there, the more he thought about it, and the more absurd everything started to seem. He... He couldn’t believe that it’d been a pool. She’d had him throw himself into a pool. Of all the places, of all the scenarios where his super-strength might’ve actually saved him, she had to choose a pool.

He was laughing before he could stop himself.

“Hey, Mister Stark?”

There was a pause in Tony’s response, as if he was considering whether or not Peter had gone insane. “Mhm?”

“Did you know that I can’t swim?”

Another pause. Then,

“I swear to god, Parker-”

#oof #this ain't great y'all but #you can't win em all #irondad #tony stark #peter parker #tony & peter #losingmymindtonight writes #tony lives

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renaroo · 4 years

Note

Ooohh how about 10 + spiderfam (I'm thinking mainly the kids like annie and may but I'm flexible)

A/N: I think, anon, you’re the first person to ever prompt me with Spiderfam and I am forever in your debt

Crackle Boom

May had been sleeping in her own room for nearly five years.

At first, Peter hated it. He would wander from their bedroom into hers throughout the night, slightly off-balance and still new to his prosthetic, pushing against the walls and furniture each step of the way. Then he’d watch her from the doorway and feel every solitary instinct primed to protect her. To keep her safe.

Even as a baby, Mayday proved to be fiercely independent. She got that from MJ, of course.

She was crawling early, walking early, teething early.

For reasons utterly beyond Peter’s comprehension, his baby girl was on the fast track to growing up. Each day she was more beautiful, more articulate, more passionate.

And, so often, it felt like beyond those things, she was fearless.

If anyone asked May if she needed help, the little girl was determined to say no.

She never asked for help, never asked for accommodations. She was bullheaded and never gave up.

Peter took credit for that part.

So it was surprising, if not completely shocking when one summer night he woke from his sleep to a familiar cry.

“Daddy!”

Immediately, Peter was tense. Every muscle in his body snapped forward into action.

He would have leaped straight out of the bed had it not been for Mary Jane’s patience and soothing. Without rolling over or opening her eyes, she reached out and placed a firm hand on Peter’s chest.

“It’s probably a nightmare, Peter,” she said softly.

As always, she grounded him, brought him back down to reality.

They were home — the same, safe home that Peter had grown up in his whole life in Forest Hills. It had been years since he was Spider-Man, let alone since any of his former foes came after him or the ones he loved.

There was a phantom ache below his right knee, the pressure dull and unmoving. It told him it was raining long before he heard the familiar patter on the roof and window.

Evening his breaths, Peter looked down at his wife’s hand and reached up, clasping both of his own hands over hers. He kept her against his chest for just a moment longer, wondering if she knew his heart was calming down again all because of her.

“Daddy!”

“I’m going to check on her,” Peter determined, reaching over to the nightstand where his prosthetic rested.

“Of course you are,” MJ mumbled, already drifting off as her hand snaked its way back to her side.

Peter walked through the darkness of the house, more steady on his legs than he once was but still keeping a flat palm on the walls where he feasibly could. He was halfway to May’s room when the thunder boomed outside.

He could make out the soft gasp of May in her bedroom, and suddenly the picture was all coming together.

“Mayday?” Peter called gently, pushing her door open just a bit, enough to get a picture of the eight-year-old’s room.

Against the very faint lights peeking through her window, May was sitting up in her bed, sheets and comforter pulled up to her chin as she looked toward the window. She wasn’t trembling, but she was still nervous enough to be biting her lip.

“May?” Peter called again, just before she flinched and cowered from the window.

“Daddy!” May cried out again, making Peter’s chest feel like it was in a vice grip.

“Honey,” Peter attempted to soothe. He put away pretense and walked straight into the room. By the time he reached her bed, he was scooting onto it to sit.

Instinctively, May folded up against him, curling into his side and burying her face against his ribs.

Once again, every fiber of Peter’s being was assured that he would do positively anything for his little girl. A leg was nothing for the sake of her safety and security. And the fact that she was scared even for an instant felt like he had marked a failure in that somewhere somehow.

“May, sweetheart,” Peter continued. “I’m here. Daddy’s here. What’s the problem?”

Thunder boomed and May finally broke into shivers against him.

Peter smiled down at her, affectionately threading his fingers through her coarse brown locks. There was no denying where May got her hair from — it was pure Parker, tangling easy and ready to stand on end. Peter was near his forties and he still hadn’t found the best way to work it.

“Come on, Mayday,” he said, his affection weaved into his every word, “it’s just a little thunderstorm. Those never scared you before.”

She shook her head, her forehead a little damp against Peter’s skin. She sucked in a few breaths tightly together — huff, huff, huff — and didn’t exhale.

“Alright, let’s put an end to that,” Peter said softly, gently shifting himself onto the bed more and pulling his leg over the corner. He could feel the catch of his prosthetic against the frame but ignored it for the moment. His arms swept up May and he cradled her against him as he laid back on the bed. He kept her close and kept her secure.

Mayday was pliable, seemingly comforted by Peter’s security.

The moment May was comfortably against his chest, Peter leaned to the side and reached with one arm to unhook his leg and guide the unfeeling plastic up onto the bed. It dropped to the bed with a thud and Peter let it remain. He had more important matters to attend to.

“Okay, kiddo, you’re shaking like a leaf,” he said, using his right hand to brush some hair from May’s face.

Tear tracks had made cool, wet splotches across May’s cheeks. Peter hated that, and immediately tried to rub them away with his thumb after he unstuck the loose hairs from them. “May, baby, what’s wrong? It’s just a storm.”

“I know when it’s coming,” she mumbles against his chest. “It hurts my head.”

Confused, Peter tilted his head to the side. “What hurts your head?” he asked.

Before she could answer, an apparent chill went down May’s spine and left her trembling with new fervor. In the back of Peter’s own spine, he felt a vague tingle, but nothing that would have really gotten his attention otherwise.

A moment later, lightning crackled outside the window followed by a shaking boom. It was enough to make Peter glance away from his daughter and toward the window, but May did not react as much. She trembled more acutely just before it.

Quietly, deep down, a notion — a scientific proposal — came to Peter about the connection. But he buried it quickly. It was too painful to think about at that moment. Every instinct in Peter was honed into protecting his family, and especially his little Mayday. The idea that he could give her something so dangerous and life-changing was beyond what his heart could take for one sleepy, stormy night.

Still, he liked to fall back on science. It comforted him. And he liked to think it comforted May, too.

“You know, spiders talk to each other through vibrations,” Peter informed her.

Surprised by the topic, May looked at Peter’s face curiously, then scrunched up her nose in confusion. “Huh?”

Smirking, Peter wrapped his arms around her and began to shimmy them both, shaking her little body enough to get a giggle of surprise. “When your body shakes, or when the neighbors play music so loud it makes the walls move? We call those vibrations,” he explained.

“D-Daddy, y-you’re v-vibrating-ing me-me!” May giggled excitedly, the fear temporarily gone from her eyes.

“Sure am,” he laughed back. He stopped shaking them and the bed both and held her firmly to his chest. “Spiders don’t have mouths like ours, they can’t make voices and talk like we do. So they have to talk in other ways. So they make vibrations.” He brought up one of his hands and began walking his fingers up May’s back and onto her head. “So they use their toes to make little tiny vibrations. And that’s how they talk to each other.”

May shivers under Peter’s hand, but it is not the full-body tremble she had before. It’s full of giggles and amusement. “Ew, daddy! You’re spider-talking!”

Grinning ear-to-ear, Peter used his hand to bop May on the nose. “You don’t know the half of it, kiddo.”

Once May seemed more settled, Peter took his hands and began rubbing soothing circles into her back, rubbing her tiny shoulders and watching as she leaned into him with complete faith and trust.

“I think,” he continued, more softly, “when storms are bad and close, you can feel them vibrating. Even before the crack of lightning or the boom of thunder, you can feel storms in your bones sometimes. I know I do. But they don’t have to be scary. You just need to remind yourself that it’ll be okay. That you’ll be safe.”

“Because of daddy,” May murmured against him, her eyes closed and her body flattening against Peter’s.

Peter ached with love as he looked down at her. “Because of daddy,” he agreed.

The dull tremble at the back of Peter’s spine sounded off, and he couldn’t help but notice how May trembled again. But she didn’t stir, her breathing soft and matched to Peter’s own.

Lightning crackled then, after a few seconds, thunder boomed.

The storm was moving away.

Shutting his own eyes, Peter felt relieved and contemplative. Another storm for his family down, and he couldn’t have been happier.

#Peter Parker #Mayday Parker #Spiderman #writing #spider fic #anon #ask and you shall receive

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inactiive-shit · 5 years

Text

Live A Little

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Title: Live A Little

Prompt: Ghost!side

Warnings: death, implied (past) murder, ghost, blood

Pairing: Platonic LAMP

Words: 2,213

@sanderssidescelebrations Chim-chim-churree, bucko. I tried for fluff and my brain kept trying to make me incorporate angst so this is kind of bittersweet. But I love my child. Here is the best I have:

This time of year was, objectively speaking, the best.

Logan was not biased, don’t think that he would ever let his current circumstances affect his opinion. It was a simple fact that fall was the best time of year. The beautiful trees and the pleasant chill in the air and the smell of crisp early mornings were, objectively, some of the best things in life.

And Logan would know that because he had lost his life. About twenty years ago, and he won’t go anymore exact than that because he still looks like a twenty-something college kid, but he would digress. Logan knows these are the best aspects of life because they are the things he misses the most and also the things that he can feel the best even after death.

His liking this time of year has absolutely nothing to do with Halloween, or the thinning of the veil, or it being the only time of year he can be seen by everyone, or that he can feel things, or that people don’t run screaming from him when they see him. They actually congratulate him on such a realistic costume, and Logan has long since given up on trying to convince anyone he’s actually dead. They always think he’s inebriated or pulling some sort of prank. He doesn’t mind so much anymore. He’s just glad that he can hold any sort of conversation with someone who isn’t a particularly enlightened cat.

Things start to get fun every year around eight p.m. That’s when Logan becomes corporeal again, and also when he is finally able to be seen by the masses. So, as eight p.m. rolls around, Logan steps out of the stupid house he is confined to every other day of the year and begins walking.

His legs tingle like he’s been sitting cross-legged too long and now they’re coming awake again. He relishes in the feeling, even if it’s not pleasant. It’s something, and that’s a lot better than nothing. The wind batters his face and a beautifully orange leaf smack into the tacky blood pasting his hair down and sticks. He smiles, pulling it off and tossing it back to the elements. He watches as it whisks down the street in the first breeze he’s felt in a year. A few drops of rain land on his hand, so Logan tilts his head back and lets the rain sprinkle onto his face. After a year without even the slightest bit of liquid touching, the rain feels exquisite. He fights the insane urge to giggle and allows himself a few seconds of basking in the rain. Then he composes himself and continues walking. As much as he’d love to drink in all these sensations forever, he only gets twelve hours. There is so much more he wants to do before this night is over.

There is a house about four blocks away. It is more of a mansion than a house, and nobody owns it. Students from the local college flock to it every Halloween for the biggest party that anyone in the state has. Logan knows, because even back in his day it was an impressive party. The police have a long standing deal with the college students: it doesn’t get too loud and nothing gets destroyed, nobody gets arrested. This, too, has been in effect since Logan was as young as he looks. The students had, of course, been banned before, but they kept coming back. Now the truce has been in place for over two decades. Logan’s never been more happy that a law can be so casually broken.

Logan only went to a few parties in his life (nowhere near enough, if you ask him now. He loves the socialization more than anything else.) They were all good parties for the time, but now is a whole new ball game. There are amazing lights and decorations and types of food he’s never seen before. People bring their handheld cellular phones with them everywhere, and it’s a technology Logan had never imagined in his life. They contain cameras, make calls, send written messages, access the internet (something Logan wishes to high heaven that he’d had in college), and so much more that is far beyond his comprehension, given his limited time to interact with them.

Even with all of that, all the crazy things he can’t even fathom having existed before, he loves these parties. He can drink (though never get drunk), he can eat (though he is never hungry), he can talk (and be heard), and he can touch others. Logan never realized how much he took his senses for granted until they were revoked like some cosmic joke. But for now, he has them. He can stew about not having them once they’re gone again, and he’s back to being no more than a semi-famous news story and The Poltergeist of Auburn Street.

Logan walks into the party and the very first thing he does is grab a cookie. It’s a simple little pumpkin, and the gel-like icing is dripping off slightly, but it is delicious. He purposely bumps into a few people as he makes his way around the already packed room. It is not yet eight thirty, and already ‘Spooky Scary Skeletons’ is blasting from the speakers. Strangers are making out in strange places, and Logan watches them for only a moment before turning away. He hadn’t really been a fan of such things when he was alive, either, and it is one societal expectation that he does not miss at all.

Logan mingles with the warm bodies around him until nine o’clock when he sees who he’s been waiting for: Patton Foster. Behind Patton walks Roman Prince, brandishing his smile like a weapon. The last person in, loitering in the door like a vampire, is Virgil Avery. They make the most interesting trio that Logan has ever seen, none of them have anything in common, and that probably has a lot to do with why he fits in with them so well.

“Lolo!” Patton cries and throws his arms around Logan’s neck as soon as he steps into his path. “How’ve you been? What have you been doing?” Patton is easily the most genuine person that Logan has ever met. When they met in Patton’s freshman year at this very party, Logan was just sitting on the stairs, watching. Patton had asked what was wrong like he’d known just from a glance, and they’d talked, and then he’d met the other two, and they all clicked together like puzzle pieces, separated years ago by an errant creator.

Somehow, it seemed fitting that Logan would make the best friends of his life after he died.

“Good, Patton. I’ve been good. Not doing much.” Logan wiggles out of Patton’s embrace, and Patton lets go quickly.

“Not doing much?” Virgil grumbles. “Wouldn’t you have seen the whole world by now, calculator watch?” Logan has no idea what that is supposed to mean - the nickname, not the sentence. What the cherry-covered fuck was a calculator watch?

“There is a lot more to the world than places, Virgil,” Logan says. They bump fists and then Roman drapes an arm around Logan’s shoulders.

“Where did you spend this year, again?” Roman asks, eyeing the crowd like a vulture. The first year Logan had met them, at the end of the night, all three of them had been devastated to find out that Logan didn’t go to their school. He told them he was traveling; all over the world. It was why he was never here longer than a night, and it was why they never saw him on campus.

“Australia,” Logan says. This is probably not where he told them he was going last year. He doesn’t remember where he told them going, only that it was far enough away they wouldn’t try to visit.

“What’s that like, kiddo?”

“Hot, dry. A surprising amount of deadly fauna, even knowing about it beforehand,” Logan says. He doesn’t want to be questioned about a place he’s never been, so he asks, “What sorts of things have been going on for you?”

“Nothing good,” Virgil says, but he looks too happy in his skeleton costume for that to be true.

“Stormcloud passed his biology exam,” Roman proclaims, loudly, in Logan’s ear. Logan leans more into the sound and the heat.

“Barely,” Virgil says, but there’s no venom in the word.

“But you did pass,” Logan says. He pauses and adds, “I loved biology in high school. It’s a lot different in college though.” Logan can’t even begin to guess how far the field has come since his most recent knowledge of it. He had been majoring in biology; he loved the field work involved.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton says. Virgil and Roman laugh. Logan groans. A pun. A halloween pun. A Halloween pun that just so happens to hinge on the thing Logan is. How Patton manages it, Logan hasn’t found out. He may be a witch. He may be psychic and not know it. Whatever the case, he’s using his power for puns. It really is such a Patton thing to do.

“I starred in the school’s production of The Breakfast Club,” Roman says. He puffs out his chest. They reach the drink table and everyone picks up something.

“A wonderful movie,” Logan says. “I didn’t know there was a play based on it.” Roman stares at him with outright incomprehension.

“So you get my 80s movie references, but you’ve never seen an Avengers movie? Or Tangled? Or-or even something nerdy like Interstellar?”

“I have read the Marvel comics,” Logan suggests. Roman rolls his eyes, and Logan surmises that is not quite considered the same. “And I have been meaning to watch Interstellar since you told me about it last year. Though I have absolutely no clue what Tangled is supposed to be.” He grins as Roman goes off on a tangent about all things Disney. It’s endearing, if obnoxious, Logan thinks as he makes eye contact with Virgil and Patton. All three of them devolve into laughter, but Roman keeps going, undeterred.

“And Frozen! Elsa’s going to be a lesbian, and the Prince was the bad guy-that’s how you know he was never a real prince. A real prince like myself would never commit a betrayal like that! And what about The Princess and The Frog? An underrated masterpiece to be sure, but stunning! Everything about it was amazing! And there’s…” Logan’s not sure if Roman’s taken a breath since he started talking, and he’s only understanding about a third of the words he’s said.

Roman is the easiest to rile into such an impassioned state. He loves so much so fiercely that anything could set him off. Less often to see passionate is Patton. Not excited or even elated about something, but to see Patton with a bright gleam in his eye as he talks until there are no words left and you can feel his very own passion in your soul is beautiful. Least often to feel so strongly about something is Virgil. Logan has only provoked him into one passion-fueled rant (about caterpillars, of all things. Odd, but fitting.), but he is just as capable of feeling and expressing as either of the others.

Passion, Logan has found, is the heart and soul of life. Nothing quite compares to watching someone breathe life into something just from their sheer love of the subject.

But dancing comes close.

“Want to dance?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at Roman. Roman grins, takes a breath, and then extends a hand toward Patton.

“Padre? Would you do me this honor?” Patton giggles and jumps up.

“C’mon, Virge! It’ll be fun!” Patton and Roman are bouncing excitedly - in entirely different ways. Patton’s is a sort of rocking back forth from his heels to his toes over and over, as though he cannot possibly not move, even when he’s not walking. Roman’s is more of a jump, bending his knees slightly and then springing back up, so eager to get moving that he won’t wait for the time.

“I don’t know, guys.” Virgil withdraws into his hoodie slightly. Logan admires the patchwork design, something so lovingly hand-crafted that it could never really be replicated correctly. “Dancing’s not really my thing.”

“Come on, dark and stormy, nothing bad is going to happen,” Roman prods. He starts to pull closer to the other dancing people. Virgil doesn’t look completely convinced, and there’s only one thing Logan can advise here.

“Live a little,” he says, and he smiles because Patton would love the pun if he knew, and then he takes his own advice and for exactly one night, Logan lives. At the end of the night, he’ll tell his friends good-bye, regale them with ideas of the next far-off place he’s heading for, and then he’ll go back to his dilapidated house and come up with new ways to keep from going insane until next year’s Halloween party when he gets to see them all again. But until that happens, Logan won’t think about it. He takes Virgil’s hand, draws him into the crush of moving, breathing, living bodies, and they live.

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yikesorps · 3 years

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✵ + Lights & Kameron

Send me a ✵ + a ship and i’ll tell you who does what at christmas!

who spends hours putting up lights only to get tangled in them and storm off?

This could go either way because while it could be either one of them, I think it comes down to which situation ends up happening. Either she’ll try to do it while he’s at work, and end up getting tangled, or he’ll try to do it for her and well, same fate. Alternatively, she’ll try to surprise him, and then when he tries to make it up to her he ends up with that same fate.

who accidentally eats a whole box of christmas chocolates in one sitting?

After their Halloween debacle of 2020 I think it’s safe to say that it would be Lights, she’s the one with the biggest sweet tooth. Not that he wouldn’t try to join in, she would just not let him, or would just reluctantly give him a piece or two.

who insists on watching the cheesey hallmark christmas movies?

I can see them having a life long tradition of watching cheesy movies together and therefore it would be a joint decision. They probably dedicate an entire weekend to just watching Christmas movies.

who insists on playing nothing but michael buble in the few days running up to christmas?

This one is going to have to go to Kameron. That totally isn’t her style of music and I can see it not going over well, but I think it’s safe to call that another one of their traditions. Blasting music that lowkey neither of them like and just making fun of each other.

who gets their presents wrapped at the mall so the other cant go snooping

They both would. I think that both of them are notoriously guilty of snooping, but I think that Lights would still be the top culprit. She would totally try to find all of her gifts while he’s at work and pass it off like she spent the entire day actually working on things.

who insists on making snow angels?

It would be Kameron, for sure. But she would quickly join him because again, it’s totally another one of their things. My favorite part of them aka the fact that they are such dweebs and have been for the entirety of their lives !! together !!

who put christmas outfits on all the pets?

As we saw with the construction hats on the cats, and the sweaters for the chickens, we all know it will be Lights. Kam would absolutely eat it up though. He would be more into it, even if it was her idea.

Do they go to family’s or have a quiet day in?

They’d definitely try to pull off seeing every single member of their opposite families just because they have a long-standing tradition of their parents loving each of them. Even if they were dull, their parents would absolutely fawn over them and they’d be obsessed with seeing their nieces.

who insists on wearing matching ugly christmas jumpers?

I think that her parents would insist on it for them. Her mom would make them sweaters and they’d be conned into wearing it all day. That or she would convince him to wear her infamous Stanley Christmas sweaters.

Who waits up until midnight to give the other their present?

They’d also wait together, and would turn it into a game somehow - that is so them. But they’d also have things planned up until midnight to amuse themselves.

Who insists on hand-made presents only one year?

Lights would because she is the obvious creative of the two. I can see her making a comic of the two of them and now I am soft.

Who puts mistletoe on every door frame?

While this is another joint effort, I think that Kameron would be guilty of sneaking extra ones in. They’d laugh about it while they kissed over every inch of their house.

Who gets too drunk at the work christmas party and has to be picked up at 9:15pm?

It would totally be Kameron, and she would be right with him - they’d have to uber home from his Christmas party because they’re too busy trying to play pranks on everyone after too many glasses of champagne.

who gets angry and almost tells kids that santa isnt real?

I think it would be Lights. But Kam is also the one having a kiddo first, so, he’d be less likely to be as petty about it. OOOP.

#Anonymous #♡ lights & kameron: truth be told sometimes it’s only you #i love our domestic angel babies #i loved all of these

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clericbyers · 5 years

Text

[ because i couldn't leave this alone, here is part 2 ]

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“Hey.”

Mike looks up from his reading and smiles awkwardly as Robin hovers over him, hands stuffed in her shorts’ pockets with a shy smile on her lips. He scoots over on the bench and watches her settle down before opening his mouth.

“Why are you here?” Robin shrugs in response and Mike frowns. “I’m sure you have better things to do than hang out with a kid.”

“Probably but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hang out with a kid. Especially if that kid is you.” She grins and leans back in her seat with a happy sigh. “You looked like you could use some company is all. It’s no fun sitting in the snow by yourself. If you don’t want me here then—,”

“No!” Mike cries out and then huffs when Robin’s smile grows wider. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Buckley. It makes your face look all gross and demented.”

“Love you too, kiddo,” she pats his shoulder and then cocks her head as she inspects him. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

Mike stiffens. His jaw involuntarily clenches with his fists as his spine hardens and the tension in his shoulders spikes. Robin makes a noise and tilts her head up to the sky. “I know it’s hard,” she begins softly with a voice Mike knows is meant for this particular conversation. “I’ve never been brave enough to tell a girl I like her myself. When you told me you wanted to tell him I was so proud. I still am, even if the words haven’t reached him yet.” Her blue eyes turn to Mike with gentle care echoing in their rich color. “I don’t know Will very much, but if he’s even half a modicum as amazing as you tell me and Steve, he won’t hold this against you.”

“It’s not that,” Mike groans, running hands down his face before tangling them in his curly hair. “I know he won’t hold it against me. I just don’t want to sound like a hopeless romantic in front of him. A pining dipshit with feelings for his best friend who doesn’t share those feelings.”

“Hey, you don’t know if—,”

“Robin,” he hisses as he turns to face her fully. Mike can feel the tears burning in his eyes and he wishes she had left him alone after all. “I know he doesn’t.” Anymore is the important word, but Mike still can’t get the word out. It would be a lot easier to deal with his feelings if he knew Will never reciprocated them. His throat tightens around that seven-letter word—anymore—reminding Mike that Will is over him, Will doesn’t have a crush on him now, Will is past the stage of affection Mike is currently stuck in. “I can’t—I can’t tell him. I can’t let him know I’m never gonna get past this…this crush I have on him.”

“You’re young! Time is on your side. You’ll get over him, let the ship sail on by.”

“That’s the problem: I can’t!” Mike can feel the tears spilling over, running ribbons down his freckled cheeks as desperation takes hold of his heart. “I can’t get over what I feel and I never want him to know I’m too weak to move on. I don’t even think it’s a crush anymore.” His voice falls to a barely-there whisper. “I think I love him.”

Robin pulls Mike into a hug and caresses his back as he silently cries into her shoulder. Mike has a clear thought for a moment, ever so thankful that Steve befriended Robin and the girl trusted him enough and saw her own struggle in him when he spent hours at the rental store rambling about Will, Will, Will. “Mike,” Robin starts after the boy manages to stop sniffling, “I say tell him anyway. Let him know you’ll always love him.”

Mike nods lightly and sends Robin a shaky watery smile that makes her laugh and ruffle his hair.

After taking a few more minutes to calm down and talk about something else with Robin, Mike makes his way back home where he knows Will is located. During the bike ride to his place, Mike builds up his courage to say something but the moment Will opens the door and grins at Mike as he sets his bike down, all courage leaves his soul in a flash of lightning. Will is—Will is everything; he is strong and gentle, caring and adorable, eyes tinted soft with affection and cheeks rosy with adoration. He’s wearing one of Mike’s oversized sweaters and it slides over his shoulders and pools over hands until just the tips of his fingers are peaking through. Will may have had a growth spurt in the time he was gone but Mike is still a good few inches taller than the other boy.

Right now, the size difference between them seen so blatantly in Will wearing his clothing is making Mike’s knees shaky. He offers Will a smile and whizzes past him in an effort to get to the couch before his legs give out. Mike only looks over once he feels the cushion beside him dip from added weight. Will is still everything and Mike’s heart speeds its frantic pace.

“Did you have a good walk?” the brunette asks with genuine curiosity in his tone.

Mike nods. “Y-yeah, yes, it was good. Grand. A good walk. I, uh, ran into Robin. Well, she ran into me when I sat down to read this X-Men comic.”

“Oh,” Will reaches over Mike to pluck the paper from where Mike had unconsciously placed it at his other side. Mike wonders if death by smiting would be less painful than Will half on his lap while he’s mentally making a checklist of all the reasons why Will Byers deserves nothing but good in the world for the rest of time.

“It’s a good issue.” Mike rambles on. “There’s some Thor universe things in there. The Alpha Flight team. Have you read X-Men and Alpha Flight? It’s good. Loki is the bad guy in this one though.”

“Yeah, being a bad guy is his role,” Will laughs and flips through the issue. “Uncanny X-Men Giant-Sized Annual. Can I read it at some point?”

Mike nods stupidly. “Of course. It’s yours as much as it’s mine.” He makes a vague motion toward his room. “I also have some Alpha Flight issues if you don’t want to listen to me explain things for you to help you understand.”

Will shrugs and places the comic issue down. “I don’t mind listening to you talk, Mike. I miss listening to you a lot actually.”

“I wish calling wasn’t so expensive,” Mike whispers hoarsely, staring into his lap for reasons he can’t explain. “I miss your voice, too.”

A nudge at his shoulder makes Mike look over and his breath catches when he locks eyes with Will. Will who is sitting so close, Will with soft pink lips begging for Mike to kiss and cherish with his own. Mike bolts from his seat and grabs at his hair with a strangled cry. He can’t take this anymore.

“Mike?” Will questions carefully with concern in his eyes and it breaks Mike in half.

“Will, please don’t hate me but I’m a thousand percent sure I’m in love with you but I can’t stop feeling this way. I’ve been trying for months; I’m so sorry.” Mike’s voice shakes and he wants to take a breath for air but he knows if he stops now he’ll never open his mouth to talk about this again. “I’m sorry I only realized this after you left and that I hurt you letting you believe you I could never like you in the way you desired and—,”

Mike comes to a sudden stop when Will presses his hand to the babbling boy’s mouth. He’s half tempted to lick Will’s hand but the seriousness in those green hazel eyes keeps Mike’s tongue at bay. Will’s hand moves from his mouth anyway, carefully cupping his cheek as a loose grin curls his lips.

“Sometimes I wonder how I came to love someone so dense like you,” he laughs and Mike scowls but feels his cheeks heating with blush. “I said I used to have a crush on you, not that I fell out of love.”

“Isn’t that the same?”

Will shakes his head. “When you love someone as long as I have loved you, the childish feelings eventually fade away.” He shrugs and rubs his thumb against Mike’s cheekbone. “I’m no longer embarrassed about what’s left behind because what’s left behind is simply me. Loving you is, well, my best me. Returned feelings is optional but I’m super happy you like me, too.”

Mike wants to cry. “You could have told me you love me instead of saying you don’t have a crush! I was scared you were gonna think I’m an idiot for having a juvenile crush on you.”

“You are an idiot but not for liking me,” snorts Will but not even the unappealing snort can wipe the wide grin off his face. Mike feels like the sun is shining directly on him. “I’m sorry I worded my confession weird. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable if I confessed to loving you so I left that part out.”

“Lying by omission is still lying, Byers.”

“To quote my dear sister, ‘boyfriends lie,’ Wheeler.”

Mike shoves Will’s shoulder with a guffaw before plopping back onto the couch. Will sits beside him chuckling under his breath, curling his feet under his legs as he presses up against Mike with the X-Men comic in hand. Mike turns his head to press his lips to the top of Will’s head before snaking an arm around his shoulders. “You’re wearing my sweater.”

“It got cold in here after your folks left to get party supplies for New Years.” Both boys know what the cold does to Will, so Mike doesn’t question and only kisses Will’s head again to hide a happy smile at how the smaller boy turned to Mike’s clothing for comfort. Will points to the annual issue and nudges Mike’s side. “Newly minted boyfriend of mine, would you care to explain the Alpha Team to me so I can read this?”

Boyfriend. Mike Wheeler is Will Byers’ boyfriend. He can barely contain his glee.

“It would be my pleasure,” Mike replies with a posh accent he would take on to talk as random travelers the Party would run into during Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. Will laughs and the warmth that floods Mike’s body sizzles away any lingering concerns.

“Goddamn, I love you,” wheezes Will as he snuggles closer into Mike’s side.

“Yeah, me too,” is his easy effortless reply before launching into a explanation of the Alpha Team’s creation.

(It’s while he’s explaining how the Team was originally just in X-Men comics for Wolverine’s backstory that Mike remembers reading that issue with Will years back and thus, Will knows this information already. Mike just barely hides his grin and simply continues to honor Will’s request. Even if the request was only made to hear Mike’s soothing voice and nothing more.)

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