#and the hour and a half I did sleep I had HORRIBLE dreams about spiders

[tigersullivan01]

Alma Peregrine x Reader- kitchen chaos 

Y/n pov

“Hugh! Stop it, you’re getting it everywhere!” I let out a sigh as I grab the bowl with half of the pie dough left in it and puts it on the counter. 

“Go and take a bath, I’ll clean up this mess” I muttered as I looked around the kitchen, how can one boy cover the hole kitchen in pie dough? And how can you fail so spectacularly in making said dough? Even myself is covered in the sticky mess, I grab the cleaning stuff and start working on the mess. 

Finally after an hour of scrubbing the kitchen is finally clean so we can cook dinner, i sigh and head upstairs and change my clothes to clean once and head downstairs. Standing in shock at the doorway to the kitchen as I see flour, eggs and milk all over the counter and floor, Clare standing on a kitchen chair covered in the stuff and Millard, Emma and Olive only covered in flour. 

“What happened in here? I was gone for five minutes” 

“Ops we are baking cookies but we’re out of flour and eggs” Emma explains giggling as Millard continues the catastrophe. I sigh heavily and put Clare back on the floor. 

“Emma give Clare a bath and clean up yourself. Olive and Millard go clean yourselves up and head down to the village and get four eggs and a pack of flour, of you go” 

After they scurry out I repeat the process of cleaning the kitchen AGAIN before starting dinner, hearing a small explosion behind me and feeling the back of my shirt being covered with a wet and sticky substance. Wiping my head around I se Enoch with a smirk on his face with one of his little alive thighs with an empty catapult arm. 

“What did you throw on me Enoch? Why are you throwing things at me anyway?”

“Oh just some water and cornstarch, I wanted to test my creation” 

“You had to do that on me? And why that mixture? It’s horrible to try to wash out of clothes”

“Because it’s thick and heavy”

“………*-*………go to your room immediately”

Finishing dinner and putting it on the table, getting Alma from her office and changing clothes AGAIN, we finally sit down for dinner. I just pick at my food as the others eat, having lots my appetite completely and being bone tired. 

“Why aren’t you eating dear?”

“Mmmm not hungry”

“Are you sure? You didn’t eat much for lunch”

“I’m sure love”

Me and Alma have our quiet conversation as the children eat. 

Alma and I stay a little later at the table talking with each other as the children put their dishes in the kitchen, as me and Alma enter the kitchen afterwards I can’t help myself, and luckily there were no children around. 

“How the f*ck can they get the kitchen so messy?! All it takes is FIVE minutes and there is food on the ceiling, a book it the fridge and milk in the cupboard! HOW!” Alma slammed her hand over my mouth. 

“Clean this up and then go to our room, your sleeping on the loveseat tonight” She practically growled as her blue eyes turned cold, doing as my wife tells me without a word as she goes to the children for the movie. Tears prickled in the corner of my eyes as I wipe off the counter and wash the plates, when I’m done I simply turn into a fox and run silently upstairs with my tail between my legs. Curling up in the corner of the room under the dresser, together with the cobwebs and a small spider I don’t even bother getting outside I fall asleep. 

Alma’s pov

Cursing at the children really? That was low and unjustified of them, they didn’t even have a reason! Yes the children mess the kitchen up occasionally but that’s nothing to curs about! I lean against the doorframe as I angrily puff on my pipe as Horse shows his dreams, it’s the usual clothes and stuff. After that we head out to reset, I feel someone tug on my skirt. 

“Yes Clare?”

“Why isn’t Mx Fox here? They’re always here!” Smiling softly and pulling out my pocket watch. 

“They said some bad words about the kitchen before, so they have to go to bed early” Enoch chuckled 

“That’s the second time they have cleaned the kitchen today” 

“No….if they cleaned up after you then that’s three times” Emma chimes in and my eyes widen a little. 

“No! Four times! I accidentally messed the kitchen up too” Hugh says as he scratches the back of his neck, my eyes are probably the size of plates and I nearly mess up the reset. 

“FOUR TIMES?!” I look at the children in shock. 

“Get ready for bed, now” I quickly walked inside and upstairs to our bedroom, opening the door quickly and looking around. Not here? I check the bathroom, hallway, library, kitchen and living room, looking under every furniture. Why do they have to be so good at hiding? I walk back to our bedroom and look everywhere i can think of, finally I find them in the corner under the dresser curl up in a tight ball…. I grab a pillow and blanket and lay down outside the dresser looking at them sadly.

“Love?……….baby?……..please come out….” Slowly reaching under the dresser and rubbing my finger gently over their snout as they slowly blink their eyes open 

Y/n pov

Blinking my eyes open and seeing Alma laying on the floor, a sad smile on her face as she gently scratches the top of my head. 

“Please baby can you come out? I’m sorry for earlier…..I should have asked you why you reacted like that…” Hesitantly crawling out and into her arms as she picks me up into her arms and hugs me tightly. 

“I’m so sorry love, i didn’t know what had happened. Do you feel up to saying good night to the children?” Contemplating for a bit before getting out of her arms and transforming into my human state and offering a hand for Alma to get up. 

“Just….please don’t look at me with those cold eyes again” I whisper before going to the children to tuck them in and say good night. As I return to our bedroom i see Alma standing in her nightgown with a small smile as she pulls me to the bed and makes me sit down as she changes me into my pjs before laying me down, tucking me in with my green frog stuffy and spooning me from behind. 

“You can be your adorable little orange fur ball if you want” she whispered in my ear, well I’m in heaven. How can someone be so comfortable? Snuggling close to her as I fall asleep. 

In the morning i sleep in a little while Alma scolds the children on proper ways to be in the kitchen and how to clean it after themselves, the bird was quite angry. 

A little sad but fluffy in the end. I’ve had no good ideas for stories lately so I gave you what was good enough of my many failed attempts, I hope it’s good enough and feel welcome to request ideas you want to read about. -Tiger

#alma peregrine x reader #alma peregrine #fluff

[downundergarfield]

A fluff fiction of sniper coming to the camper after horrible day at work to his s/o who opens their arms for cuddles with some cute aggression in the concoction?

(Btw the smut sniper x reader one was chefs kiss)

Congratulate me on the end of my bloody session. It's time to feed you 9-man flavored chips, huh? Lets start with our favourite Aussie~

Well, a very tired Sniper × NB!Reader.

Fluff one

Tw: nope

It was an awfully hot day, you would say the hottest you've ever seen. You were sitting in a van, leafing through some book, but already just staring at the text rather than reading it. You just wanted to kill the time, your lover/friend should be here any minute now. But he delayed and you began to worry.

But anxiety did not even have time to settle in your soul when the door opened.

Mick looked exhausted, his hat and glasses shifted in a funny position, and it seems he was in no hurry to fix them. You let out a long sigh of understanding as you jumped up and spread your arms in a big hug. The Sniper only smiled out of the corner of his mouth before slamming the door behind him and literally falling into your arms. His weight pulled you down, but you were able to hold him, even despite his noticeable weight.

- 'm feel like a dead coala, dinkum...

His speech was muffled because he was resting his neck on your chest.

- I told you that you need a good sleep, not a coffee.

You said it a little cheeky. He convinced you this morning that 4 hours would be enough for him, although you knew perfectly well that he only gets enough sleep for 10-12 hours.

- 'm 'now...u told...

He was about to fall asleep in your arms.

- Come on, sleepyhead, you can't sleep here.

You try to lift his limp body to drag him to bed, but there seems to be too much... Sniper in him.

- Mick, please, I won't drag you alone.

- m'hm..

He finally gathers his strength when you take him to bed. He sheds the bare minimum of his clothes, remaining in a shirt and work trousers. You hang his hat on a peg and put his glasses back where they belong.

He wraps himself up in bed like a chick and you kiss him on the forehead

- Good night, silly

You say it softly in his ear, still being a little cheeky.

- Don't think that I'll leave you loik that, S/O

He says it rather quickly, before you know it, his arms wrap around you and dragged into bed, pulling you into his arms like a trap of a cunning hunter.

- gotcha, lill' thing..

In a half-doze he says, hugging you like a toy for sleeping, kissing your forehead, throwing his legs over you, of course with your permission, and wrapping his hands like a spider web. He's so bony and lanky, you giggle in his arms.

- Are you strong enough to catch me?

- ...Unfortunately, you could not make out his joke, he had already fallen asleep, sniffing softly and sometimes lowing softly in his sleep....

Sweet dreams, kangaroo~

#garfieldwriting #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 x you #mick mundy #team fortress #team fortress 2 #team fortress sniper #sniper

[shivunin]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @brother-genitivi and @greypetrel over the past week---Thank you both (and I am tagging you back if you have something to share)! Tagging in turn @daggerbean @dungeons-and-dragon-age @zenstrike @transprincecaspian @nightwardenminthara @ndostairlyrium @dreadfutures @star--nymph @pinayelf @vakarians-babe @heniareth @idolsgf @buchimgay @jtownnn if you have something you'd like to share! No pressure, as always. I've been working on my "Hawke in the Fade" story again--something I was listening to jogged my memory c: So it's back to pain city once more! I don't think I've posted this bit yet, but if so... "very well then, I contradict myself; I contain multitudes" etc. (CW: Blood, spiders)

Fenris fell into a restless sleep sometime after night became day again. 

He’d found a safe enough perch in a great tree, sheltered by the numerous lower branches from any watchers. It was nothing like the comfort of home (home, home, home; he could not think of home or he would climb down and turn for Antiva and its ships at once), but it was as safe a place to rest as any he’d found so far. He’d been beset by some formless restlessness for the last several hours, but exhaustion had a way of taking its due regardless of one’s comfort. Between one blink and the next, he was asleep. 

A great spider rose, blotting out the sky. There was something wrong with this place; something uncanny that set his skin to crawling. Far beneath the monster, three running shapes drew to an abrupt halt. Two mages and a man in armor; he did not know them. 

No—wait—

“We need to clear a path,” the man shouted, and one of the mages half-turned so he could see her profile more clearly. 

Fenris dreamt of Hawke often; he was not surprised to see her now. But there was something wrong about this dream. It had none of the blurriness of ordinary dreams and nightmares. Instead, it was almost painfully crisp around the edges, hyper-real. He was abruptly close enough to see the blood drying in her hair, clotting at her shoulder. For a moment, there was something horrible in her face. 

He had seen that look before. There’d been a moment, right before she’d cast aside her cloak and turned to fight the Arishok, when she had looked at him just like that. 

“Hawke, no,” Fenris said, straining to reach for her. This must be some sort of nightmare, for though he could feel himself speaking, no sound rose from his lips. 

“Go,” Hawke said to the others, resolution settling into the dear lines of her face. “I’ll cover you.”

“No,” Fenris said, and the man echoed him. 

“You were right,” the man went on, “the Grey Wardens caused this. A Warden must—”

It was too late; Fenris could see it in the stubborn set of her chin. She had decided. Once Hawke had decided something, there was little that could change her mind. 

“A Warden must help them rebuild,” she snapped. “That’s your job. Corypheus is mine.”

Corypheus—but they had killed Corypheus, he and Hawke and Carver and Anders. Why should he dream this now? She was safe, she was at home; she’d promised him she would be there when he got back—she’d promised. 

It was a nightmare; it was only a nightmare. 

“Hawke…” the unfamiliar elven woman said, her face twisting at the word, and Maria nodded in return. Her shoulders…relaxed, as if the decision was easier to bear now that it had been made in truth. Hawke rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder briefly, glancing beyond them at the massive spider. Fenris tried to touch her, tried to move her anywhere but here, but his hand passed through without force. 

“Don’t do this,” he told her with every ounce of feeling in his soul; Hawke was safe, she was safe, this was only a nightmare, but it felt so real, so present, and he could not bear this. He had borne the distance and the time away; he had borne countless physical pains, for none of it had ever measured greater than the lyrium markings had. 

Fenris could not bear this. 

“Say goodbye to Varric for me,” Hawke told the elf, and had the gall to smile—smile as if nothing was wrong—even as the others turned away and began to run for the rift in the sky behind her. 

Hawke lifted her staff and sprinted the other direction, the smile fading as soon as she turned. The spider loomed over her, vast as the sky and twice as avaricious, and Fenris felt the familiar tug of magic as she called it to her. 

“I’m sorry, Fenris,” she said, and he tried again and in vain to touch her; he tried—

Fenris woke in Tevinter with a start, grateful that he had tied himself to the tree with a belt. He would have fallen to the bracken below otherwise. 

While he’d slept, it had begun to rain. That was what had woken him, he thought, from some nebulous nightmare. He shifted uneasily, mind still cloudy with some undefined doom, and reached into his vest to touch the oiled cloth that held Hawke’s letter safe. He didn’t need to take it out to know what it said; he’d long since memorized it in its entirety. 

I will be here waiting when you come back. I swear it. 

He could swear he heard her voice saying the words as he recalled them. He missed her voice; missed it even more intensely on nights like this, when all the forest felt like it was bent against him. Fenris drew his cloak over his head, curled his knees up against his chest, and tried not to think of home.

Hawke must certainly be sleeping in their bed now, curly hair tucked neatly in its silk or strewn across the pillow. There would be a fire in the hearth and her hound curled up before it. If he thought about it too hard, he could smell the oils she brushed into her hair, could feel the press of cool sheets against his skin. 

No; no, he would not think of it. That way lay madness.

Though he shut his eyes once more, Fenris did not sleep that night.

#fenhawke #maria hawke #wip wednesday #shivunin scrivening

[anxietylord]

Loki really came for my ass last night 🙃

#I could t sleep at all even though I have a three hour shift in 45 minutes #and the hour and a half I did sleep I had HORRIBLE dreams about spiders #and facing my fears #which is almost always him being like haaaayyyy

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

The Brother’s Reaction to MC having a Nightmare

bAby

this gif... holy SHIT 

Lucifer

Whether you started the evening snuggled up under his chin or all alone in your room, he’s an extremely light sleeper since he’s got to keep an ear out for Mammon being stupid at 2 am

So when you start to move restlessly and/or whimper and cry, naturally he’ll awaken and see what the issue is

Lucifer will sit up and gently rest a tentative hand on your trembling shoulder, so as not to startle you

His presence only seemed to make it worse! Your tears got bigger and your cries got louder, your breathing became more uneven until you woke with a start, your own shrill scream scaring you into a frightened, crying ball in front of him

Boi is at a loss…

Was this his fault?

“MC, darling, what has gotten into you? Are you alright?”

“L-Lucifer?” You whimper, watery eyes roving aimlessly in the darkness “L-L-Lucifer?! Where are-”

Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, he reassures you: “I’m here, right here princess,” “I’ve got you, it was just a dream MC... nothing to worry about.”

Strokes your head, smoothing your rumpled hair and supporting your back while you hide your puffy, tearstained face in his collar and cling to him for dear life until you calm down

You’re still shaking when the usually stiff demon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and begins to rock from side to side, murmuring gentle, reassuring words in your ear

“Nothing can hurt you as long as you’re in my arms, MC.” “Deep breaths my love, deep breaths…”

Mammon’s vivid scary stories before bed had obviously been a bad decision, Lucifer decided as he dabbed your cheeks with a kleenex

his poor, sweet human having nightmares about silly campfire tales…

How endearing, yet upsetting

He’ll carry you to the kitchen bridal style and hold you close after getting you a glass of water, then carry you back to bed and tuck you safely against his broad chest for the rest of the night making a mental note to hang Mammon upside down from the banister the following morning

Mammon

He woke up from his dream about goldie who had read “∞” on the ATM and opened his door in answer to the frantic knock to find his favorite human crying

You rushed into his arms, burying your face in his chest to hide your shuddering sobs, nearly sending the now blushing Avatar of Greed off balance in your haste

“Jeez, human! Wha… What happened? Why’re ya crying like that?”

No, like seriously, plz stop crying babie or he’s gonna cry too

Returns the hug, holding MC firmly as he regains his footing and manages to shut the door behind you

“MC, sssh, I’m right here! You don’t hafta worry, ok? Luckily you’ve got the best demon on the job to make ya feel better! Hug me as hard as ya need, ok?”

*forehead and cheek smooches*

Lets you curl up in his lap until you can talk to him without stuttering or choking on tears

Holds you the whole time, almost as if he’s afraid to let go for fear you’ll cry again

“Bad dream? What was it about?”

“Th-Those characters from Levi’s horror game w-were eating you alive and I c-couldn’t move!” You whimper tearfully, “You were begging me for help a-and I couldn’t do anything to save you from them because every time I moved th-these ropes got t-tighter around my neck a-an-”

First of all, he’s horrified that Levi showed you those games when he knew they gave you nightmares. Unfortunately, you had to if you didn’t want to be called a normie for the billionth time that week

Second, he, the great Mammon, begging a mere human for help? Yeah right

Even though he knew in his heart of hearts that that would definitely be the case

“They’re not real, remember that. And if you still think those freaks are lurking in the dark, come find me and the great Mammon will protect you!”

You can't help but giggle and hug him more tightly, knocking him back onto his pillow

Neither of you felt like moving, so Mammon pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and you snuggle together until the morning comes

At the breakfast table, Mammon doesn’t hesitate to screech at Levi for giving you nightmares while cradling your tired, sleep-deprived body against him

Leviathan

Doesn’t hear MC’s knock at first, he’s too absorbed in the 14th episode of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible

As the knocking gets louder and more frantic, the otaku finally notices and pauses the anime, goes to the door and opens it a tiny bit

Just enough to see the teary-eyed MC, hugging their waist in discomfort, shivering in fear, and looking left and right down the hall for danger

“... Yeah?”

“L-Levi? C-Can I come in? *sniff* I just had a really scary dream-”

“I-uh… Ummm I g-guess,”

He lets you in and on a whim, places a tentative hand on your back

He expected you to push him away, but when you choked and rushed into his half-open arms and buried your face in his chest, leviachan.exe has stopped working

EXIT

What was he supposed to do with his hands?!?!??

MC was crying and he was just standing there like a normie? Wh… WhAt wOULd HenRy dO?

“MC, h-hey, it cant’ve been that bad… here, um let’s s-sit down a-and you can talk to me. Sound good?”

He feels you nod and leads you to his large gaming beanbag chair and you get squooshed against his side, shivering and sniveling, but warm and safe

Levi dries your face with the edge of his shirt and after a few moments of comfortable silence, you begin to explain your dream

The slimy creatures scaling the walls of the House of Lamentation with their slimy entrails dripping whitish goo in their wake. Eight spindly legs to each monster, sixteen sinister red eyes, and countless rows of gleaming fangs ready to take a chunk out of anyone who came too close

They managed to get into the house and they chased you and the brothers, but the otaku had tripped over a fallen suit of armor and a spider creature made its move before he could get away

At that point, you’d woken up absolutely terrified and rushed to see if Levi was ok

“But you’ve played horror games with me and we watched My Sister and I Found a Spider and Took It Home, Realizing Soon After it Was a Demon Who Eventually Escaped From the Glass Jar We Used for a House and Ate Our Toes, Transporting Us To Hell Where We Were F-”

“Yeah… I know… B-But it wasn’t that bad. I was reading one of the books Satan recommended. It was a really well-written horror story and it had very realistic pictures. I just can’t seem to get those gross monsters out of my head:(”

Your voice slowly trailed off and Levi realized what he had accomplished

You… You weren’t crying anymore!!

Also, you weren’t breathing really hard or shaking too much! Had… had this yucky otaku really calmed the human down?

*gasp* he was rubbing your back too!? And you hadn’t slapped his icky hands away?

You… you were ok with this? B-Being all snuggled up together on the beanbag chair?

“L-Levi, I-I’m ok now. I’ll leave you alone… I hope I didn’t wake you up…”

“N-No!”

“Something wrong?”

“No… I-um,” (he couldn’t let you get away now! This was perfect! He had you all to himself!! No WAY was he gonna screw this up!!) “You c-can stay a little longer if you’d like… I-I was in the middle of I Was Eating Avocado Salmon Sushi at a Hundred-Yen Revolving Sushi Restaurant When Suddenly I Was Thrown Back in Time a Thousand Years to the Heian Era, Where I Was Selected to Be a Personal Chef for a Princess and Was Later Chosen as a Possible Candidate to Be Her Husband… Now someone Please Tell Me How That’s Even Possible… Do you maybe want to stay and watch?”

“You don’t mind? I don’t want to intrude-”

“No! It’s fine!”

And so he fumbled with the remote and hit the play button, but couldn’t focus on a single word the protagonists were saying

You. Fell. Asleep.

On. Him.

Uh

“Maybe… Maybe MC doesn’t think I’m a… ‘yucky otaku’ after all… But don’t get your hopes up, Levi.”

Satan

He fell asleep in his chair, book resting on his chest when he heard a short, quick (almost frantic) string of taps on his door

Being a light sleeper (just like his papa), he immediately woke up to hear your voice on the other side of the door

“Satan? Are… Are you awake? *sniffle*”

It was you

What could you possibly want at this hour?

Upon opening the door, your body crashed into his own, but not before impulsively throwing your arms around his neck and breaking down on his shoulder

“M-MC? Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t

Judging by your stormy sobs and trembling figure, something must have shaken you up horribly for you to act like this

The sweet MC he knew usually kept their cool

He leads you to his big armchair and sits you down, careful to keep a firm hand on your back for support, both emotional and physical

Your eyes were wide and glassy, pupils darting to each corner of the room looking for monsters, bad demons, giant bugs, etc.

Finding none, you finally make shy eye contact with the blonde demon who has kept his arms close about you and dabbed your endless tears away until you were calm enough to speak

“MC, did you have a night terror or something?”

“*sniffle* M-hm. I-I’m sorry S-Satan, I was just so scared I c-couldn’t stay in my room all alone and you were the first person I thought of. So… I ran here. Did I wake you?”

“I fell asleep in my chair again MC. So I would have awakened during the night anyway,” He replied, “Plus, I don’t mind at all. I’m… I’m happy you came. What was your dream about?”

“It was really twisted… are you sure you want to know?”

“You’ll feel better when you talk about it and I’m always up for a story.” He smiled.

He sat back in his chair tentatively resting your head on his chest as you began describing the terrors from only minutes before

“Asmodeus and I, we watched some of those cringey teen romance movies this afternoon and somehow they morphed into a really scary dream. You and I, the rest of your brothers, the angels, Solomon, Diavolo, and even Barbatos were playing spin the bottle for some reason and I landed on you, but when I kissed you, you turned to dust! Th-Then when I landed on Mammon and Beel, the s-same thing happened again, but no one seemed to notice! Th-”

Noticing you were getting worked up again, Satan rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushing you gently and assuring you that everything was fine and ‘innocent’ kissing games weren’t actually deadly

Unless they were

But he didn’t mention that to you at that moment

Instead, he cradled you in his lap and read to you until your eyelids began to droop once more for some much-needed sleep

Being the good boy he is, he tucked you into his bed

BUT

Before he could walk back to his chair

“Satan, aren’t… aren’t you gonna lay with me?” You ask, tired, sweet voice ringing in his ears, “I-If you don’t mind that is. I mean it is your bed, after all, I didn’t mean t-”

He’s blushing up to his ears at your request, but nonetheless rolls onto the mattress next to you and you snuggle up close and fall asleep almost instantly

“As long as you’re here with me, you’ll be safe MC.”

Asmodeus

Why… Why was he up so early? What was that noise? Wait… Where were you?

He could’ve sworn he fell asleep with you in his arms

Sitting up groggily he looked around after rubbing the crust of sleep from his eyes

Something was moving and whimpering next to him, caught in a snare of fluffy blankets

The fearful cries of “Asmodeus! Oh, Asmo please don’t die! No, no, no, NO!!” broke the sweet demon’s heart

Your ragged breathing turned to a blood-curdling scream and you shot upright, but the blankets blocking your vision increased your tearful unease tenfold and you began struggling even harder against them

Taking action, Asmo tugged at the sheets, doing everything he could to help you

When your face emerged from the heap, you took a great gasp of air and immediately began sobbing your heart out

Asmo paused, knowing it unwise to approach someone who’d just escaped the clutches of a nightmare, but he couldn’t just sit there and stare at you!

Luckily, you chose that moment to look around

Your eyes met his amber ones in the semi-darkness and you tackled him, wrapping him in an impossibly tight hug

“A-ASMO!”

“Darling, wh-”

“Oh my god! I thought I killed you! I r-ruined your pretty face! You just sh-shriveled up a-and-”

“Sweetheart, hey~” He murmured, closing his arms around your back and cradling the back of your head in his hand, “Don’t cry anymore, Asmo’s here…”

His gentle comforting coos as he rocked from side to side brought your tears to a halt and soon you were able to look him in the face

Your glassy, frightened eyes had almost a look of reverence when you ever so slightly cupped your palm over his cheek, afraid he would crumble away at your caress once more

When he didn’t, you let out a shaky sigh of relief and visibly relaxed; shoving your face in his shoulder and wrapping your legs and arms around him so he couldn’t escape

It was quiet for a moment

Asmodeus settled his forearms around your waist and said

“Dearest, are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know.”  You fisted his shirt in your palms and looked at him, “That was a really vivid one.”

“Tell me what it was about!” He smiled sympathetically and stroked your cheek, “I have bad dreams sometimes too, MC. If you tell me yours I’ll tell you a few of mii-iiine!”

You couldn’t help but crack a small grin as his sweet tone and nod

“Yesterday Beel told me about the one time he touched Satan’s favorite plant. He’d seen Satan pet the stalk and petals before and he wanted to do it too. (Satan is a plant dad, fight me) But when he touched it, it shriveled up and died on the spot. I… I had a dream where I touched you and you shriveled up! I tried to help you, but every time I touched you, you screamed in pain! Then… Then you died in my arms and I woke up.”

:(

You clung to the demon as he moved, lost in thought. Settling back into the abundant pillows and tugging a sheet over your shoulders, he began to speak

“That sounds absolutely terrifying! What would you do without me?”

“Asmo…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He nuzzled your cheek and hugged you tighter, “Why don’t we find a way to help you forget about it? I have a couple of suggestions… if you’d like to hear them~”

Beelzebub

He’d only been gone for a minute… or four… maybe five…? Right?

Why were you writhing around like that? You sounded like a lost little puppy and… were those tears?

“MC? Are you awake?”

No reply, just your continued whines of discontent and a steady stream of tears soaking the pillow

He dropped his snacks on the floor and carefully knelt on the edge of the mattress, putting a gentle hand on your forehead

Lucifer used to do that when he was sick, long ago when they still lived in the celestial realm. Maybe it would help you? Somehow? Hopefully?

The strangled sob that fell from your lips as you forced his hand away broke his big heart in two

Hold on, your eyes were closed! Wait, you were having a bad dream!

Throwing all caution to the wind (and not knowing the consequences of waking someone in this state) and began shaking you rather roughly, scaring you awake and making you bonk heads when you sat up too quickly

Now you were crying for more reasons than one

Your head hurt, two big scary hands had your shoulders in a tight grip, there was a large figure looming over you in the dark, your dream was still raging and replaying in your head, and it was really dark and uncomfortably warm

Even in the dim light, Beel witnessed the look of pure terror that crossed your face

You thought his heart was broken? Well it just fucking shattered

You were scared? Of him?

“MC, it’s just me! Don’t be afraid!”

He’d woken you up, but apparently he’d only made things worse…

Beel is vewy sowwy :(

Those lovely amethyst eyes…

“B… Beeley?”

“MC? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn-”

You silence the ginger demon by throwing yourself into his arms in unparalleled relief, afraid you hadn’t really woken up and the shadow of your favorite brother was just MC’s Nightmare, Continued

Happy you’re in his arms, he squeezes back with all his might and burying his face in your shoulder

“I just had the worst nightmare Beel. I’m so happy you’re here…” You murmur, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“Is your head ok?”

“M-hm.”

The pair of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Beel offers you a tissue to dry your face, but you can’t seem to stop crying

“MC, maybe if you told me about it, you’d feel better!”

His sweet, honest smile made you melt

But the contents of your dream… You looked guiltily toward the bed on the other side of the room where you knew the Avatar of Sloth was sleeping peacefully

“You… You promise not to tell Belphie?”

“What do you mean?”

“W-Well I dreamt about that time… you know… when he killed me? He gave me a hug before bed like he always does a-and I love Belphie’s hugs but I can’t help but think about... that. I feel bad, it’s the same as holding a grudge! I’m sorry Beel.”

*insert pikachu face meme* = beel

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault you had the dream.”

“I know… I feel bad though. Did I wake you up?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Nuh-uh. I was already up grabbing snacks.” He pointed to the untidy pile a few feet away. “Maybe some TSL and food will bring your smile back. Don’t worry about your dream MC, the secret is safe with me. Plus, you’re only human and I guess being killed would be really scary for you. I didn’t protect you that time, but if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, I’ll be there before you can say Burgers from Akuzon, ok?”

The smile lifts your lips before he finishes his sentence warms his heart and puts a happy smile on his own as you give him a final squeeze and whisper

“Thanks a lot, Beeley.”

Belphegor

It is said the Avatar of Sloth could sleep through anything, even the loudest storm and the echoes of 4th of July from the human world

But when the precious human cuddled up in his arms every night begins to move around and/or whimper in fear, Belphegor is awake in minutes only to find you squirming away from him and begging to some invisible entity “Just… Just d-don’t hurt them! I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, please don’t hurt me I-”

The seventh born is squeezing your hand and whispering encouragement in your ear, telling you you’re safe and that it’s just a dream

Slowly opening your eyes you look around, still terrified and jumpy from your vision, but the warm hand intertwined with yours and the comforting arm around your back, plus the familiar scents of the twins’ room slowly bring you back to reality

“MC?”

“Belphie? I-Is that you?”

“Who else would it be, dummy.”

You ignore the half hearted insult and bury your face in his chest, allowing your heart to reach a normal pace and his natural scent and warmth to wash over you

“Tell me about it. Sounded pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up Belphie, I know how you hate losing sleep…”

“Just… Be quiet and tell me your dream!”

“S-Sorry… Um, so I didn’t know you too well yet and an angel came and took the precious grimoire, but me and Beel were caught up in it and there was this whole thing with Purgatory Hall and Luke and-”

“Your stories can put me right to bed you know that? Anyway, so what happened? Did Lucifer tear the angel’s head off?” He looked rather hopeful…

“Of course not! Lucifer was gonna make me choose who I wanted to save, either Beel or Luke and I didn’t want either of them to get hurt so I said ‘both’ and Lucifer got really mad and scary and in my dream he ended up hurting Luke and Beel and he would’ve gotten me if you hadn’t woken me up.”

“You’re welcome.”

“... *sigh* Thanks for listening Belphie.”

With a sigh of his own, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder

“It was just a dream. You don’t have to be afraid, you know. I’m right here for you. Always.”

“Aww, than-”

“Forget I said that! Shut up and go to sleep!”

#obey me! #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader obey me #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #mammon x reader #mammon x reader obey me #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #levi obey me #leviathan obey me #leviathan x reader #leviathan x reader obey me #obey me satan #satan obey me #satan x reader #satan x reader obey me #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #beel x reader #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #belphegor

[allthewhumpygoodness]

My (kind of) entry for @sicktember prompts #1 and #11 sorta combined. Medieval fantasy-ish.

The wind bit through their layers of clothing, even where they sat huddled before the fire. The flames swayed enticingly, the hot coals below looking like a warm cave they longed to curl up in. Though at this point they figured not even that would warm their frozen bones.

"A?" They looked up and saw B watching them, concern in their eyes. "How long have you been out here?"

A shrugged, another shiver taking hold of them. "A few hours, I guess."

"Hours? A, you're clearly exhausted. Go back to your tent, I'll take watch for now."

They just shrugged again, turning back to the fire. There was an aching behind their eyes that had only worsened over the past while, as much as they longed to shut them they knew it would only be all the worse if they did. They longed to sleep, to flop over right where they sat and let their sore muscles rest for a while.

B sat down beside them with a huffing sigh. "So something's bothering you. Isn't that right?"

At this point, A was far too tired to deny it. "How can you tell?"

"You always stalk off on your own when something is wrong. You get all quiet. More quiet than usual, that is."

Normally A might have laughed. But now they were simply too exhausted for it. "I haven't been feeling my best, that's all. Nothing that important."

"How so?"

"It doesn't matter."

"A."

B was giving them a side eye. They knew it, even if they weren't looking at them. Another chill hit them, making them pull their cloak tighter around their shoulders. They coughed a little into their shoulder, not realizing until they did that there was a deep ache in their chest, spreading into their arms. "I've just been tired, chilled. I ache all over." They shot B a look. "Probably just from riding all day, I'm sure."

"Oh, to be sure." Even as A curled up tighter, resting their chin on their knees, they could feel their friend's eyes on them.

Exhaustion weighed down on their eyelids, forcing them shut. They buried their face in the folds of their cloak, allowing the darkness to soothe the aches in their head and eyes a little. Soon B would leave, they knew that. Everyone left eventually.

Sure enough, they heard the shuffle of boots, the sounds of somebody standing and walk away. Maybe it was their tiredness, but they felt tears closing up their throat. Stupid. They'd known B was going to leave. They'd known. They shouldn't have been surprised.

The wind blew harsher against them in their huddled bundle and they shivered worse than ever. Out of nowhere their face and neck felt uncomfortably hot in comparison to the icy block of the rest of their body. They pried it up from their knees and were hit with a wave of dizziness. Maybe B was right, and they should just go back to their tent.

Another repeated thud of footsteps came up behind them and they turned, wincing as the dizziness worsened.

"Here you go. How long has it been since you've eaten?" A blinked. It took them a moment to make sense of that they were seeing - B, standing over them with a bowl of steaming soup in their hands.

"You came back," they said blankly. They'd thought...

B shrugged. "Of course I did. What, did you expect me to leave you here by yourself?"

They didn't answer that. "I just didn't...thanks, B."

"Not a problem."

A's heart warmed a little just at the feeling of them sitting down beside them again. They hadn't been abandoned. Not yet.

The soup warmed them too. It was a good, strong broth with some herbs and bits of meat, but not much else. Which didn't bother them much - they hadn't been hungry in a while. But the warmth of it was nonetheless comforting. They sat and sipped, the soothing heat of the soup and the fire lulling them from the inside out. They almost could forget how sore their head and tired muscles were, and how the world spun when they turned their head too suddenly.

Halfway through the bowl they couldn't make themselves eat anymore. Their body felt weighted to the ground; if they didn't have to move for a hundred years they would have been happy. When the half empty bowl of soup almost slid from their grasp for a third time, they felt a firm but gentle hand on their arm. "Come on, you're dead on your feet. Let's get you back into your tent."

This time, A didn't bother to protest. They let B pull them to their feet, one arm around their still trembling shoulders. The ground swooped out from underneath them and they stumbled, swaying against their friend.

They heard B chuckle. "Watch yourself, A. You must really be exhausted."

Responding took too much effort. Instead they let their head flop against B's shoulder as another wave of dizziness tugged at them. The camp torches eventually faded from their sight as they approached the wooded area that held most of the tents. By the time they reached their own they were shivering worse than ever, their head pounding in time with their heart. If they didn't lie down soon they really would collapse.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur, but they could hear B's cheerful voice talking away as they helped A into bed, even helping them pull off their boots and tossing every blanket they possessed on top of them. It was a little better in there, warmer yet darker, and lying flat made their head stop spinning, even if there was only a light mat separating them from the hard ground beneath.

"Get some sleep," said their friend's voice from somewhere above them. "I'll take your watch."

It wasn't long before they slipped into an uneasy sleep, disturbed by dreams that flitted around half formed until they could no longer tell if they were dreams or not. They opened their eyes a crack, still half asleep, and saw a dark thread on the wall of their tent...the thread became a spider creeping slowly towards them, they jerked back but instead of waking up the spiders only bored into their dreams, speaking to them with evil voices. Then they were struck by lightning and frozen in place, all their muscles taut and rigid, unable to move, unable to breathe, everything aching...a dark shape rose up above them until it was too big to see, stretching all around the tent, it reached down and grabbed them...

This time they sprang awake with a cry, scrambling backward away from the terrible shadow fingers that reached out for them. They couldn't breathe, their head was pounding, surely they were going to die...

"A," said a half familiar voice. "Hey, A, it's just me. Breathe."

They tried. In an instant they started coughing, their chest sore and ragged. A pair of strong hands held their shoulders, rubbing gently. "You're all right. Deep breaths now, I just need you to breathe."

A slumped against B's shoulder, worn down completely, their breath shuddering in their chest. Their limbs burned and froze and shook all at once, the ground beneath them tilting horribly. They felt themselves being laid down again, grasping out for their pillow. B's voice remained in their ears, gentle and comforting.

A second voice joined theirs. "Are they all right?"

A hand brushed their forehead. "They've got a fever, trouble breathing..."

"The poor thing..."

"Please don't go," A said hoarsely, suddenly terrified. Their eyes cracked open a sliver, B and now C too blurred in their vision. "I - I don't want to be alone."

"Of course not." B brushed the hair out of their face. "You're going to be just fine, we'll take good care of you."

Their eyes burned, head aching terribly. They could hear shuffling, the hushed voices of B and C and others from the camp in the background - probably talking about them, their overtired brain finally caught up enough to realize.

"Don't help me." It took them a second to tell they'd spoken out loud, but once they began they found it hard to stop. "Don't, I'm just a burden to you...please leave me be."

C's gentle voice was close to them now. "I thought you just said you didn't want to be alone?"

"They're mostly delirious, C." That was B. "Don't pay attention, just wait with them while I try and get my hands on some medicine."

A slid into a half sleep, imagining shadowy fingers creeping up their shoulder and voices whispering in their ear. Their eyes snapped open once, heart racing, but all they saw was the dim light of a candle and C's anxious face above them. Whimpering a little, they curled over on their other side, fighting to ignore the spinning in their head and the sickening ache in their joints. Everything was too much.

For a while it remained too much; no matter how much they tossed and turned they could not get comfortable, sore muscles and chills beating them down the worst. B returned with a spoonful of some bitter herbs that they managed to coax down A's throat despite their protests, which did nothing but leave a sour feeling in their stomach. They could not tell whether it was day or night anymore, all they knew was that they longed to sleep and couldn't seem to no matter what, and could not escape the pain that encircled them.

Their friends' faces merged with each other, and other faces they'd known long ago and thought to have forgotten, sometimes they thought they cried out for people no longer alive but in the small part of their mind that was still lucid hoped very much against it.

Once they woke up with a cry of fear from a nightmare that was already fading away, but the terror still clung to them. They shivered violently in the dark, limbs and head burning, until they felt another blanket go around them and C's voice shushing them and telling them to go back to sleep.

It continued on like that for a while. There were times when they were fully awake, but those times only meant they could feel the full effects of their illness, and they found themselves craving sleep when they came. B or C sat with them most times, but sometimes others would poke their heads into the tent to see how they're doing, sitting with them and making jokes in an effort to cheer them up, or just bringing them a bowl of soup when they hadn't eaten in a while. They never realized so many people cared about them.

Finally, one day they woke up to find their head was no longer pounding, their limbs still horribly stiff but not quite as sore as they had been. With weary eyes they looked automatically to the side of their cot and once again saw B sitting there, one hand laid gently on the top of their head. "You're awake, I see. Feeling any better?"

The hand in their hair was soothing. "A little," they answered croakily. "Did - did C come in too, or was that a dream?"

B chuckled. "Half the camp visited you at some point. They were all very concerned, did you expect them not to be?"

A lump rose unexpectedly in their throat. "I - I guess I did expect that."

B sighed. "A, we care about you. All of us care about you. How many times can we say it? Or show it?"

A was too tired to halt the tears that slipped from their eyes. "I'm sorry," they muttered, "I'm just...not used to people caring very much."

"Well, get used to it. You don't have to do this all by yourself, A."

It was too hard to stop the tears now, so they let them fall and curled up tighter under their blankets. They still weren't sure how much control they'd have over what words came out of their mouth, so they kept it shut for the time being, and tried to think of nothing but B's careful hand running through their hair. They had friends. They had a family.

It was almost too much.

But in a good way.

#whump #sickfic whump #sicktember2021 #e's whump writings

[spooderboyandtincan]

You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone

Chapter 2

There’s a spider on the ceiling.

Peter can barely make out its eight gangly legs through a blur of tears. He feels some sort of bond with it- not only because of the DNA they share- but because they’re both alone. Then again, the spider has probably spent its entire life in this room, and Peter’s only been here- on a whole different continent- for a good couple of hours.

Maybe it’s just the jet lag. According to literally anyone who’s known him at all- he gets adorably grumpy when he hasn’t gotten his beauty sleep (Tony’s words, not his.)

Who does he think he’s kidding? He’s homesick, he’s alone, and he really, really misses Tony. Misses him as in the his heart is literally being torn apart sort of missing. He wishes he’d considered how his severe separation anxiety might play a part in this when he’d still had a choice.

Peter chokes on a whine- the one that forces its way out of his throat until he’s full on sobbing and gasping for breath.

He scrambles for his phone on the nightstand. He needs Tony, he needs him, like a fish needs water. He fumbles with the lock screen and desperately taps on Tony’s icon (a picture of Tony holding a proudly displaying a mug that reads “Number 1 Iron Dad.”) It rings once, twice-

“Pete? How’s it going, kiddie?” Tony’s voice, so gentle, so full of love and concern- he already knows something’s wrong, of course, because his Dad Senses are off the charts- makes the tear in his heart rip open.

“Tony,” he sobs. “Tony. I don’t- I can’t, I can’t do this. I wanna go home, Tony.”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay Petey, breathe for me okay?” He can hear, just barely over his sobs, that Tony is pacing, can hear that his breathing is just a bit too fast, and Peter feels awful for freaking him out, but just can’t stop crying.

“‘M so sorry,” he wails, “‘M so sorry. I-I wanna go home, I want you Tony.” He grasps his pillow tightly and buries his face in it, trying to stifle his sobs, pretending that Tony is there, wrapping his arms around him, kissing his hair, rocking them back and forth.

“I know, baby, I know,” Tony croons, “Everything’s gonna be okay, we’re okay. Right now I just need you to take a deep breath, buddy- in, two-three, out, two-three, okay?” Tony demonstrates for him, taking exaggerated inhales and exhales, which are probably benefiting him as much as they are Peter. “You’ve got this, Pete, I know you do.”

“I miss you, Tony,” Peter whispers after a few seconds of shaky breathing. “I wanna go home.” He feels so immature, begging Tony to fly across the Atlantic in the dead of night just because he’s a little homesick.

Tony, however, seems to consider his request very seriously. “Do you want me to fly out? I could be there in a few hours.”

Peter almost laughs, imagining Tony arriving to the hotel at daybreak, dressed only in sweatpants and a stained AC/DC t-shirt. It’s actually not a bad idea- Tony could act as a chaperone, they could explore the city together, make another precious memory.

“Yeah, um, that-that would be great, Tony,” he sniffs, wiping the wetness of his cheeks. “A-are you sure? I don’t wanna, like, make you, there’s probably Iron, um, Iron Man things, I don’t-”

“Pete, listen to me,” Tony interrupts, voice again so impossibly gentle. “Nothing- nothing- is more important to me than you, understand? I’m here for you. Always”

Peter smiles wetly, relaxing back into the covers, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know. Tony?”

“Yeah, bud?

“Can-can you, um, talk? Please?”

“‘Course I can, Pete. What about?” Tony says fondly. The idea that his voice can bring such comfort to this sweet kid makes him feel all… schmoopy.

“Anything. I just… wanna hear your voice, s’all.” He tugs the covers up and curls into a ball, resting the phone on the pillow next to his ear.

“I’ve got you, bud,” Tony says. I miss you too. “Oh, you’ve gotta know what DUM-E did today….”

Peter feels himself relaxing as Tony talks about his day. It’s not just the words that soothe him, but the familiar sound of his warm voice that’s full of such love and affection. His thoughts begin to wander as he drifts into a barely conscious haze, but the voice remains steady and present in his mind.

Tony is quick to notice that Peter is on the precipice of slumber and wakefulness, and is just as quick to provide the last bit of reassurance Peter needs to fall asleep. “Sweet dreams, buddy. I love you,” he murmurs.

Just before Peter slips away, he finds himself slurring, “Love you too.”

Tony stays on the call for a solid ten minutes after Peter conks out, listening to the steady whoosh of his breathing against the speaker. Before he finally makes himself hang up, he whispers a quiet, “‘Night, Petey. I’ll be there before you know it.” Tony leaves for the airport at daybreak, not able to spend another second in that horribly empty penthouse. The absence of Peter’s presence is tremendously obvious, and Tony finds himself desperately trying not to imagine the unimaginable.

~~~~~

With a pilot on-call 24-7, and without the hassles of a public airport, he’ll be back with Peter around early afternoon.

Thank god.

He steps out of the Cadillac, barely noticing the blistering wind and the tiny snowflakes biting at his cheeks in his haste to board the plane. He greets the pilot- Allison, he thinks- with a nod, but she gestures to stop when he moves towards the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark!” she says over the howling wind. “We just can’t fly in this weather!”

To hell with that, Tony thinks. “When’s it letting up?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Stark,” Allison says apologetically. “Not for a few days at least.”

Tony activates the suit with a simple tap of his watch, the nanobots rushing over him within seconds. Allison gasps and jumps back, gaping as he rockets into the air.

He’s been flying for a good 50 seconds before a neon red warning lights up the HUD.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says, tone filled with caution. “The wind is blowing at a speed of 78 mph. I must advise that you return to the ground immediately, or you run the risk of losing control of the suit.”

Tony curses loudly. Just his luck, really. “How high is the risk?”

“89%, boss.”

“So, not all that bad,” he chuckles.

Then, F.R.I.D.A.Y reminds him how devastated Peter would be if anything happened to him.

Tony returns to his car on foot and pulls out his phone to call Peter.

~~~~~

Peter basks in the sunlight outside of a bustling café, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. He’s ordered a chocolate croissant, and added the tasteless protein powder Tony and Bruce had synthesized to keep up with his spidey metabolism to his mug. Despite the jet lag, he’s eager to explore the city and it’s merits, his enthusiasm only growing knowing that Tony will be here within a few hours.

Feeling pleasantly full, Peter leans back in his chair- it’s an armchair, on a stool, and it’s driving him nuts, he loves it- and beams at Ned, who lounges next to him in an identical chair. “Dude,” he says.

“Dude,” Ned agrees.

Peter is grinning, Ned is grinning, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, life is sweet-

Peter’s phone rings.

His first thought is that Tony’s plane has crashed.

His second is one of relief when he realizes it’s Tony who’s calling him.

His third is that his plane has crashed, and Tony’s calling him, mortally wounded, to say goodbye.

Ned stares at him, taking in the panicked look on his face, and mouths You good? Peter shakes his head and scrabbles for his phone.

“Pete?” Tony says as soon as he’s answered. He sounds fine, at least. “Hiya.”

“Are you okay?” Peter asks first, because he knows that even if Tony sounds like he’s fine, that doesn’t mean he is.

“Yeah. Yeah, Petey, I’m just fine, I promise,” Tony assures him. Peter relaxes in his chair, flashing Ned a quick thumbs up, because knows Tony would never lie to him, especially not if he was hurt. “How’re you doin’?”

Peter’s face lights up. “Oh, great! There are like, dogs everywhere here, even in the restaurants, and I saw this German Shepherd eating like- dog ice cream or something? And I got this super good chocolate croissant where we’re having breakfast. Y’know, I really thought the jet lag would be super bad but I’m not like, tired at all yet!”

“Aw, buddy, that’s great, I’m glad you’re havin’ a good time,” Tony says, voice dripping with fondness. “You’re drinking enough water, staying hydrated and all that, right?”

“Yup! Are you?”

Tony scoffs. “‘Course I am. Hafta set a good example n’ shi- stuff.” Peter snorts. He knows Tony does his best not to curse around his- and he quotes- “young, unsullied ears" but he ends up failing quite a lot.

“Which reminds me bud, how’s Ted?” Peter’s best friend’s health has pretty much no correlation with cursing, which makes the teen think that Tony has a specific reason for asking about him. He decides not to bring it up though.

“It’s Ned,” he sighs in mock frustration. And he’s good, he’s right next to me! I guess I didn’t tell you yesterday, but the hotel guy put us into two different rooms ‘cause they had extra or something and we didn’t realize ‘til we got to our rooms.” He sighs again then, for real, his good mood evaporating.

Tony’s Dad Senses pick up on it instantaneously. “Not ideal, huh?” he says gently, which earns him a small laugh from the kid. “D’you want me to talk to them?”

Peter nods sheepishly, then realizes Tony can’t see him. “Yeah. Thank you,” he says in a small voice, embarrassed that the genius is going to all this trouble just because he’s a little lonely. “Are you gonna be here soon?” he asks then, because he misses Tony, misses him just like he knows Tony is missing him.

Tony clears his throat. When he speaks, the guilt in his voice could rip him in half. “About that, buddy, well- Jesus, Pete, I’m so sorry. The, uh, the wind is too dangerous for me to fly over, and it’s not letting up ‘til around Monday. I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

Peter’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says numbly.

He hears Tony lurch up. “Hey, Petey- shit, I’m so sorry, buddy. I- you know what, fuck it, I’ll fly over anyway, I-”

“No! No, I’m okay, I’m fine!” Peter says, wincing silently at the forced cheeriness in his voice, and knowing that Tony has seen right through.

“Hey, hey, buddy, it’s okay, I’ll be perfectly safe-”

“You can’t,” Peter pleads, desperate to keep Tony safe. “Please, Tony, you can’t, you’ll crash, or-”

“Whoa, Petey, deep breaths,” Tony interrupts, voice gentle. “I’m right here, I’m fine, you hear me?” He waits for Peter’s breathing to resume a steady rate, then says, “Bub, I won’t fly over if it’s not safe, I promise.”

Peter sighs. He’s relieved beyond belief that Tony is keeping both feet on the ground where he’ll be safe- he better be- but he misses the billionaire more than ever.

“And hey, who knows, maybe the wind’ll let up in a few hours!” Tony chuckles. Sobering a little, he says, “If the weather is on schedule, I’ll be there on Monday, 6 am, sharp.”

Peter prays he will. “I miss you, Tony,” he mumbles- he feels childish, knowing that he’s just begged the man to stay in New York, and now is just making him more miserable knowing that he’s miserable.

“I miss you too, Petey,” the genius murmurs back, voice filled with sorrow.

“Peter!” The phone nearly flies out of Peter’s hand as Mr. Harrington taps on his shoulder. He gasps a little, and though his teacher doesn’t seem to notice, Tony sure does, his gentle voice turning harsh with barley contained panic. “Who was that, Pete? Are you okay?”

“Um-” he tries.

“Come on, now! The bus is almost here, I can see it around the corner!” Mr. Harrington says loudly, and abruptly struts off, frantically waving down the bus that is already stopping.

“Peter!” Tony exclaims.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it was just Mr. Harrington,” he rushes to reassure him. Tony breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Uh, the bus is here, I- I have to go.” He hurries to catch up with his best friend.

“I love you,” Tony says. “I love you so much, Pete, stay out of trouble, be safe.”

He doesn’t want to say goodbye. Neither of them do.

“I love you, Tony,” says Peter. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry about me!”

And with that, the call ends.

#wip #chapter 2 #peter parker #tony stark #protective tony stark #worried tony stark #anxious peter parker #irondad #spiderson #roger harrington #ned leeds #anxiety #anxious thoughts #spider-man #iron man #st*rkers dni

[somedayonbroadway]

Room

Chapter 2

Room Maserlist

TW: Implied rape/non-con (Nothing shown)

Tyler yawned when he heard familiar beeping. There were always six of them before something buzzed above him and a soft scraping noise signaled the opening of the metal door into space. Spider lived in space. He wasn't an alien, but he could live out there. Jack didn't like Spider even though Spider brought them Sunday Treat by magic. Tyler didn't really know him. He was never allowed to speak to the man.

"Hey… I brought jeans," the old man said. He was always loud. Daddy didn't answer. "Got you canned peaches. And no, I'm not wasting my money on any breakfast meat. You don't need it…" Still, Daddy remained silent.

Tyler let out a breath as he slowly sat up, tracing the broken board of Wardrobe that let him see into Room at night. He could see Spider set down a bag of groceries as he laughed, looking down at the table. "What is that? A birthday cake?" Spider took a fork and took a bite out of what was left. "That's why you asked for flour instead of new socks… you're such an idiot," the man laughed, almost playfully. "How old is the little guy now? Four?"

"Five," Tyler whispered, knowing the man wouldn't hear him. He watched the old man step out of his pants and walk closer to his daddy. "I'm five…" Daddy didn't correct the man. In fact, Daddy didn't say a single thing.

"You should've told me. I would've gotten him a present." The words made Race curious. He tried to peer out, but he wasn't allowed to open Wardrobe when Spider was in Room. Daddy wouldn't be happy with him if he did.

It was not the first time Race had seen this happen. Daddy had drawn little ticks on the wall above him. Race was supposed to count them when he woke up in the night and heard the squeaking coming from Bed.

So that's exactly what he did.

"One… two… three… four…"

It was easy to count those marks. There were at least a hundred of them. So Race often let his mind wander while he counted, not liking the sound of that creak that always seemed to happen when Spider came into Room.

He thought about Room. There was Room and then outer space where all of the TV planets were. Then there was heaven. It's where he was before Room. He couldn't remember it. Daddy said that it was another life, one where he was free and happy. Race never understood that. He was happy here, with his daddy, in Room.

One day, he promised his daddy that he would take them to the TV planets. He thought Daddy might be happy if he saw the TV planets. He knew his daddy wasn't happy here. He just pretended because Room was all that was here and the aliens couldn't hear them when they called. But one day, Race was going to change that.

The TV persons weren't real, they were flat and made with shapes and lights and colors, but the aliens that made them were. Plant was real but trees weren't and forests and oceans were much too big to fit anywhere. Spiders were real though and not Spider the old man but the bugs. And one time a mosquito had sucked Race's blood. Cats and dogs weren't real though. Well, except for Hammer. He was Tyler's puppy that was going to come for them as soon as he could hear them from space.

But for now, he was in Room. And he was with Daddy. And he was just fine with that.

Jack stared straight up at the ceiling. He breathed evenly as the man beside him held a strong arm around his bare waist. He stared up at the sound tiles that made up the ceiling and tried to forget that he could feel Spider's breath on his neck. All he could do was wait, counting the second until the old man finally left him alone.

It had been nine hundred and seventy six second since he'd started counting. He didn't stop. It helped him lose focus on the things his mind would tend to wander to when things were quiet and he was alone and he didn't have a five year old to focus on. He didn't like where his mind went at night, but he couldn't get himself to sleep. Not when Spider was here, making him feel like another object in Room, like he only served a single purpose.

Maybe he did.

He kept counting, forcing himself to continue breathing normally. Spider wouldn't sleep in Room. Not for much longer, anyway. Soon enough he would go back into space. Then he'd come back tomorrow night and the horrible cycle would begin again.

Nothing was going to change now. It was useless to dream. It was useless to imagine what might have been had things been different, where he could have been had there been a single thing he'd done differently on one particular day of his life that had seemed just like any other. This is where he was. This is what the universe had chosen for him.

Room was the whole world. There was nothing else out there.

Not for him.

When Spider finally left, Jack swallowed the lump that always seemed to make itself known in the back of his throat. He waited until the big metal door was shut again before he pulled his pajama pants back on and carefully shuffled his way over to Wardrobe. He let out a breath as he opened the doors of the thing to find a little boy sleeping. He expertly scooped the child up in his arms, careful not to wake him as he whisked him back to Bed and lay him down, cuddling up against him as he pulled the single blanket he had over the both of them.

Tyler stirred only a little as Jack shushed him.

Jack pressed his head into the boy's small shoulder and let his eyes close, allowing himself to drift off into oblivion with his baby in his arms.

The next day began just as the last one had. Quiet. Nearly silent.

It was just a little bit harder for Jack to get out of bed.

Running low on cereal, Jack knew that they had to have a small breakfast and he begrudgingly cut up an apple, using a knife with its tip broken off, barely sharp enough to cut through the fruit. He didn't care. His wrist throbbed but he ignored it, sniffling and rubbing at his exhaustion stung eyes as he continued on, eventually handing his son, who was banging on the bottom of a small bucket in the bathtub, half of the small thing without a word.

Quietly, the child put down his wooden spoon and accepted the food, taking a bite of it immediately. He watched Daddy curiously, wondering if this would be one of the days that he didn't speak at all before he saw the man wince.

A pain spread throughout the back of Jack's mouth. He felt something come loose and he placed a hand over his mouth as he began to try and assess what had just happened. After a moment he reached inside his mouth and tugged on the tooth that had been bothering him for weeks.

It came out without any more trouble.

Tyler's eyes widened. "What is it?" he asked, not understanding at all what had happened.

As Jack inspected the small thing, he sighed. "It's a bad tooth." The small molar that was supposed to be white had a black hole in it and Jack could taste a little bit of blood where he'd just pulled it out. Emotionlessly, he held the thing down towards his son who was ever so inquisitive and let the boy's wide blue eyes linger.

"Can I hold it?" Squinting a little bit, Jack bent down to hand the child the blackened tooth and he watched the boy gaze in awe. "Whoa…"

Jack smiled for only a second before it was gone again and he looked back down at the apple on the counter. His stomach was tight with hunger but he didn't want to eat. For a long while, he just stared at the fruit like it had betrayed him somehow before his mind wandered back to what would happen that night. He put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on the counter.

His head hurt. He was exhausted and he didn't want to be awake. So he set the apple back in the fridge and wandered back over to the bed, curling in on himself as he pulled the blanket up and closed his eyes.

Today was just one of those days.

Still fascinated by the tooth, Race only knew Daddy had walked away because he heard Bed squeak. He looked over to find that Daddy's face was covered by Blanket. Race knew right then that it was going to be a gone day.

On gone days, Race would read. Daddy said he was still learning, but he was a really good reader. Only, Race didn't want to read right now. He wanted to play. He wanted Daddy to dance with him and run around Room with him. He wished his daddy would smile. He loved hearing Daddy laugh.

But he knew that he had to be quiet now. So he climbed out of Tub and wandered over to Egg-Snake, fiddling with him instead of running around and making noise. Egg-Snake was his best friend. He was the best at hiding from Daddy. Sometimes they'd play hide and seek when Daddy was happy. And when Daddy found Egg-Snake, he would pick Race up and hand Egg-Snake back to him with a smile and say "Nice try, Tyler James." Sometimes he'd get sad and say that there was nowhere to hide in Room. Tyler just thought he liked playing games and he wanted to be able to play himself, but he didn't know why.

Daddy was really good at finding things.

So lost in thought, Tyler didn't even notice that hours had passed him by. Rather than continuing to rattle Egg-Snake or bang on buckets, the little boy found himself picking at the loose edges of Rug after getting bored of staring at pages of his book that he couldn't get himself to read. That is, until he heard a squeaking noise.

It wasn't like the squeak that Bed made at night or the one Wardrobe made before he slept. It was much softer and much faster than that. So those big blue eyes peered up from Rug. That's when Race saw it.

He'd seen one once, in a movie, he thought. It was so small and such a soft looking grey color. It was eating a crumb of bread from the birthday cake. Spider must have dropped some of it last night. Daddy never left crumbs on the floor before they went to bed.

Fearing the small creature might be hungry, Race stood silently, reaching for the plate that still held their birthday cake, carefully taking a fist full of crumbs and letting them fall into a pile on the floor before he scurried away quietly. He lay on his tummy on the ground, not wanting to scare his new friend away. He believed the animal's name was Mouse. Mouse looked at him. Tyler could see every breath the animal took as it hesitantly crept forward towards the cake crumbs.

He'd never seen a real live Mouse before. He hadn't thought they were real. They were supposed to be made up, just like cats and dogs and dragons. Daddy had said that bugs could get into Room because they could fly, but Mouse couldn't fly.

The tiny thing began to nibble on the small peace offering as Race's mouth opened, creating the shape of a perfect circle as he gazed up at the creature in pure amazement. He crawled closer to it, watching it for another moment longer before he carefully and gently reached towards it, his hands cupped so he might carry it.

He flinched when something flew past him, hitting Mouse dead on. Race gasped and scrambled back, glancing up to see his daddy walking with purpose towards the crumbs to see if he'd hit Mouse. "Hey!" Race cried.

Jack sighed, grabbing the book he'd thrown from the floor and making sure the rat was gone. He tossed what was left of The Bible back onto his bed and kneeled down, trying to figure out where the thing came from, but he couldn't find any visible hole. Maybe if the rodent had gotten in, there was a weakness in the wall somewhere. Somewhere their noise could be made louder.

"Mouse wasn't doin' nothin'! He was bein' quiet!"

"It would've eaten our food," Jack stated, nearly monotone as he still found nothing. Sometimes he wished he would just turn to metal.

Tyler pouted, stomping over to his daddy and glaring up at him. "I gave him some food! He was hungry!"

"That thing's filled with diseases. It would've bitten us in our sleep." Race lightly hit Jack's leg at the words, letting him know that he didn't believe that.

"You killed him!"

Jack let out an irritated breath. "No, I didn't," he assured, running a hand through his hair. It was down to his chin now. He hated how long it was. He tried to ignore the fact that it immediately fell back in his face as he began to pick the crumbs up off the floor. "Mouse is just fine in the backyard with his family."

"The backyard?" It wasn't until Race asked that question that Jack realized his mistake. The young man paused for a moment, glancing down at his son. "Mouse lives in a backyard like in TV? Does he live on a TV planet?"

Biting back a frustrated groan, Jack shook his head, reaching over for the stupid book he'd thrown back onto the bed. "Here… why don't you go draw a dinosaur 'r somethin'," he suggested, trying to change the subject as quickly and calmly as he could.

A small sigh escaped the child and he looked at the torn up Bible for a moment, almost doing as he was told. But he paused. "Why didn't you tell Spider it was my birthday?"

Biting his lip, Jack stood, fighting back the only feelings he ever seemed to have anymore. Anger and despair. "Tyler," he warned, really not wanting to have this discussion again. "You're supposed ta be asleep when Spider comes."

"He said he would bring me a present!" Tyler whined. "I've never had a present…" he wondered.

Jack knew that his son hadn't meant those words to be so hurtful to him, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt more than anything. "He was lyin', Race. Spider ain't our friend," Jack said, throwing away the crumbs and dragging his feet back over to his bed.

The child stood up fast, watching Jack nearly collapse on the bed, wanting to just let the world swallow him whole. "It coulda been my puppy!"

"We can't have a puppy, Tyler. There's not enough room— space," Jack corrected himself, sitting back up and rubbing at his eyes again and not looking back at his little boy. "We don't have enough space n' I can't handle the scratching n' the biting an' the barking—"

"Hammer promises he won't—"

"There is no Hammer!" Jack argued, his head pounding. He'd kill for some pain killers right now.

Stomping his foot, Tyler screamed, "Yes there is!"

"No, he's not! You made him up in your head! He's not real!"

The words came out much harsher than Jack had meant them to. He froze, finally letting his gaze trail back down to his son. His heart tore apart at what he saw.

Tyler's bottom lip trembled as his big blue eyes welled up with tears. The child's shoulders slumped a little as he turned away. Jack melted. "No… no, baby, I'm sorry…" he tried, getting up and quickly gathering the five year old up in his arms. "Come here, come here, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't cry…" The boy turned to him and rested his head on Jack's shoulder as he cried. "Please don't cry, sweet boy, I'm so sorry…" Jack climbed back onto the bed with his son snug in his arms. He tried not to break down right along with the child. He rubbed the boy's back and kissed his head and played with his hair. He sniffled, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Race's temple. "I'm so sorry…"

His child whimpered and sniffled against him, not understanding why Jack had gotten angry. To be honest, Jack didn't understand why either. Getting angry and irritated didn't help anything. It just made the weight of everything else sit heavier on his shoulders. He rocked the boy back and forth, swallowing hard as he shoved back his own sobs.

"Shhhhh… I'm sorry…" Jack hushed. "How about a story, huh? You wanna hear a story?" he tried, his voice shaking just a little. When Tyler nodded his head, Jack sniffled and relaxed back onto the bed, letting his back hit the mattress as he played with the child's hair. "Okay…" he began, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment before he tuned out the sound of his own voice. "Did I eva' tell you the story about the boy who lost his shadow?"

The story would only last so long, but Jack could at least get lost in the images and pictures that he'd had as a child. His imagination used to run wild with this story; a tale of adventures, ruthless pirates, beautiful mermaids and a boy who would never have to grow up and face the reality of the world that didn't exist to Jack anymore. That boy could just fly away from his problems and never have to return.

It wasn't fair.

Despite his jealousy of a fictional character, Jack managed to continue on with the story, calming the boy in his arms as he spoke in a soothing, slow voice until he managed to force himself onto his feet. He held Tyler in his arms as he turned the stove on and began boiling up some rice for dinner as his boy nearly fell asleep on his shoulder.

"... and up in the sky, they could see it," Jack whispered. "A pirate ship in the stars flyin' away while the Darling children went to sleep, believin' all of it was just a dream."

Race yawned, nuzzling his head beneath Jack's chin. "Was it?"

Jack peaked down at him. "Was it what?"

Lifting his head to face him, the child watched the water in the pot boil. "A dream?"

Pausing, Jack sighed. He bit his lip. "I don't know…" he admitted. "Maybe…"

It wasn't long after that that the rice was cooked and Jack served Racer some in his bowl. He let the kid take it to his chair that was pushed in front of the TV and started eating as Jack joined him. For a moment, it was quiet as the television was clicked on and Race chose a channel to watch. "Where do we go when we sleep?"

Only glancing at the small child, Jack replied, "Right here in Room."

"But what about dreams?" Race challenged. "Do we go into TV for dreaming? Or to Neverland?"

Taking another reluctant spoonful of rice, Jack shook his head, reaching out to smooth back his son's hair. "We're never anywhere but here," he assured brokenly, glancing at the metal door, agony in his gaze as he ran his fingers through Race's long blond curls. He forced himself to keep eating as his mind went blank and he watched three cartoon ducks get into trouble over and over again.

The rest of the night went on like normal. Jack got Tyler bathed along with himself and he helped the boy into his sleep shirt, running a comb through his hair to calm him down enough to sleep. He sang until those blue eyes closed and then he shut the wardrobe, leaning his head against it and closing his eyes, sending a wish into the heavens or higher that this boy would sleep through the night.

He didn't think he was asking for a lot.

Then he trudged back over to the bed and lay down, curling up tight and closing his eyes. He tried pretending to sleep before. It never worked.

When those six beeps and a buzz sounded over him, he remained motionless, letting a hand tug on his hair.

He didn't move. He just lay there and let the man talk. "Your hair is much too long. We'll have to cut it soon." Jack stared straight ahead at the wall. "I brought you something…" The young man stopped listening. He just let the old man roll him onto his stomach and he didn't say a word.

He didn't want to wake Tyler.

But by the time it was over, Jack could hear a soft whispered voice coming from the Wardrobe, counting, "Thirty three… thirty four… thirty five…" Jack swallowed back a whimper as he turned his head away from the man who was practically on top of him, his eyes meeting the scribbled, left handed drawings he'd managed to create on only pages of that horrible book people meditated and prayed on. The sketches looked back at him, smiling gently at him and Jack almost reached for them, stopping himself when Spider grunted in his sleep.

Of all the cruel things Spider could do to him, what he'd done tonight was among the worst. Jack felt a tear fall down his face, but he refused to cry. He just kept looking up at those pictures of those people instead of looking back to the kitchen table where that thing sat. He didn't want to think about what it meant, what the Spider was thinking when he bought it. It was all too much.

Jack just wanted to be able to sleep again.

Arms around his waist and breath on his neck, Jack swallowed hard, silently listening to the breaths and whispers of his little boy. The arm that tightened around him made him bite down on his tongue. He tasted blood but he didn't care.

When Spider stirred beside him, Jack refused to look at him. The man sat up beside him and pulled his pants back on. A hand brushed through his hair and lips pressed against his cheek possessively. Jack didn't react. "Make sure Tyler gets his present. I'll see you tomorrow night."

Still staring right past the man, Jack set his jaw. But the hand that brushed through his hair tightened and turned his head.

Jack hated looking into those black eyes. "Say 'goodnight'."

Scowling a bit, tears still in his eyes, Jack couldn't argue. "Goodnight," he breathed.

The hand released him and Jack glared at Spider all the way out the door. The second the door was shut, Jack stood, nearly stumbling to the ground as he pulled his pajama pants back on. He caught himself and made his way to the wardrobe, opening it up to find his little boy, nearly back asleep. Gently, he scooped the child up in his arms. Tyler moaned. "Shshshshshshhhhh…" Jack coaxed, cradling the boy to his chest before he lay the child in the bed to tuck him in.

This is normally when he would lay down beside the child, cuddling against him and shielding him from the cool air that the door had let in. But tonight he didn't even want to sleep. Instead he sat down at the table. He sat in his yellow chair and he stared down at the box in front of him. He glared at it.

Five years and he'd never been able to so much as buy his son a birthday present. He should be happy that this year he'd gotten one at all. But all he could feel was anger and resentment.

There was no sleep for Jack that night. He just watched over his son, knowing nothing would happen to him. Not in Room.

Nothing new ever happened in Room.

It was just Room.

#newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #newsies fanfiction #modern newsies #modern au #modern era #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #room #angst #captivity #baby race #teenage dad #slight whump #chapter 2

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag LXIV, LXV

these fresh, hot, reheated words are from @akindofmagictoo and I should not have gotten coffee if I was going to try to sleep, but also should not have opened my laptop to do these tags? I don’t know what my brain wants anymore.  Dad: flowers are in bloom. it’s great. Me: oh yeah. so great. *sneezes*

sport (this is a prompt. you can have it.)

“This is not about sexism, this is about me sucking at sports.”

dive (Youth story supplementals)

"Daniel has several siblings in both his families," Cal chipped in. "He has a million cousins and nieces and nephews, which explains a lot."

"It really does," Evie said, almost interested.

Daniel's eyes narrowed without him appearing actually peeved. "What's that supposed to mean?"

“Means that you’re a mother hen and now I know why,” Evie said while diving for a cup of hot cider. “Cool.”

regret (Summon story)

The air in the room went dead with stillness while Wryn stared at Erin, their skin nearly translucent, revealing cracked bones and burned tissue beneath. Zan could tell that Erin regretted her statement but she’d never apologize. She had not once given over a point in a discussion even when it was clear she knew she’d said something wrong.

current (Youth story)

Mark ignored whatever movie was playing and instead let his eyes roam over the sight of everyone being attached to each other. They were all seated on the ground, atop cushions stolen from the couch, an action that appeared silly but made sense for the current formation. It was easier for everyone to hold hands or snuggle into each other if the arms of couches or chairs weren’t in the way.

kill (Shots)

“What do you think?” Lexi finally responded, soullessly. “They ruined me. They took me apart before I was finished growing and put me back together the wrong way. They sold my soul without my consent and taught me to not fear death or pain, only abandonment and disloyalty. They taught me to kill and they tried to teach me to like it. I never did, but that didn’t mean they stopped trying.”

Jay appeared to not have any kind of response to that.

maze lost and found (Youth story. dunno what that has to do with a maze but)

R sat back on his heels, looking lost and a little afraid. Cal put his hand on R’s back to prevent him from falling backward onto the carpet. Mark had balled up part of the blanket in his lap and was holding it very tightly. With his other hand, Cal reached out to tug it away. Mark only clutched the folds of it to his chest and kept staring at R with a mirroring expression.

“I don’t hate you,” Mark said for the third time, like he wasn’t sure if he’d said the previous two out loud.

“Look, my relationship with Isanz may be tenuously balanced on a thread as thin as spider silk, but if he wants to play nicer with my friends, I’m not going to stop him. And you don’t have to look very closely to see that for all his bluster and indifference, Nyks has worked his magic and found a spot in Mark’s heart. Not that much magic is required. You’re very lovable.” R directed the last bit at Nyks, poking the other in the side gently.

pen(cil) (Magick story)

Natalie sniffs and drinks a long sip of what Martin knows is horribly black coffee with mint leaves. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing escapes my clutches, not even very rambunctious, baby fire owls.”

Martin dips his pen in the ink. “I’ll be done in half an hour, so take your baby fire owl out of my shop of flammable things until then.”

fence (poem: waking dream)

broken fences, gates unhinged smoke is drifting on the wind crows are calling, copper gleams close my eyes and I still hear screams

if you have woken from a dream or maybe you’re sleepwalking, I don’t know, feel free to do a word search while you’re drifting past @josephinegerardywriter @blindthewind @chayscribbles @halcionic OR ANY OTHER DREAMING PERSON: horrible, indifference, growing, narrow and together.

#find the word tag #tag game #searching circle #writing #sleepy writing #writeblr #writeblr games #this tag is no longer in use #magick story #summon story #ff: shots

[of-another-broken-heart]

My mom told me (happily) that the fall seasonal coffee flavors are starting to hit the grocery store shelves. 

She also told me about two shoppers she encountered - a lady and her father - and the dad was very excited to get his hands on the pumpkin spice coffee.

I’m still miserable. Life is still bad. But this little snippet of seasonal news and story made me happy.

My anxiety is ramping back up again, though. I haven’t been tracking my blood pressure, but I went and did today. It’s not horrible. Systolic was higher than I’d like, but the rest was okay. 134/75 (63) with no irregular heart beat warning.

My mind is racing today.

Thinking about fall. About lilacs. About dresses and tattoos and birthdays and D&D.

I finally cleaned up my desk yesterday. Cleared away all the old papers, notes, napkins, tissues, and paper towels that I was keeping around because they were still useful. I set out an actual coaster, because some of those napkins (etc) had adhered to my desk thanks to all the humidity and condensation off cups. The coaster is splitting now, and that makes me sad. It’s only cardboard. They were in the dollar bins in Target years ago. But they make me happy - they’re the silly Halloween ones. I used them in some of my MH doll photography, ages ago, in another life that was somehow still in this goddamn basement.

I was in bed today, during all the sunlight hours, again. Awake all the night before, trying to escape the inevitable sea of thoughts and memories and wildly spontaneously what-if waking nightmares that always happen when it’s just me in my head, in bed, wishing for oblivious unconsciousness.

When I did pass out, it was for fitful, uncomfortable, restless sleep. Peppered with distracting and distressing dreams. At one point I dreamt I finished reading the one Hashimoto’s book I’ve been struggling to get through for months - I’m maybe 30 pages in? And I was enraged because after the brief science intro, this dream version of the book just became a fad diet cookbook. And I read through it all.

I didn’t feel well when I did decide to give up on getting more sleep. I still don’t feel great, physically. But I feel marginally better than yesterday, maybe. I put on a pair of pants - jeans - because I wanted to.

I think a spider managed to bite my face again. I have two spots on my nose that are angry and red and swollen and sore, and they both behaved a little like white-head pimples at first, but now they just won’t express anything but water and also aren’t clearing up. I’ve kept my face well-washed amidst all the summer heat and sweat and fatigue too great to get in the shower proper - so it’s not like I gave myself a disgusting filth infection. 

I’m hungry. I ate a microwaved corndog when I woke up, and I have a cup of coffee that’s still half full. But I don’t know what I even want. I can’t identify what my body is hungry for, right now. It’s so frustrating. 

#personal

[warriorlid14]

For the fic title thingy: lifetime in repeat and rarry!

I'm typing this on my phone, so forgive any typos. I had the option to write fluff BUT.

This was a curse, Harry thought numbly as he sat on the hospital chair. The war was over, and people were still getting hurt. People he loved were still being hurt. Because of him.

A lifetime ago, his mum had stepped in front of him and taken a curse meant for him. And died for it. And now, two decades later, the person he loved the most in the entire world has done the same thing. And he could very well die for it too.

No one knew what spell it had been. Or if it had a cure. All Harry knew was that they were on a mission that had gone south, and one moment he had thought he was a goner, wand a few feet too far away for him to reach in time. The next, a blue spell shot at his direction, but instead of blinding pain or nothingness, Ron was suddenly in front of him. And falling. Crashing to the ground and not getting up. The momentary distraction allowed Harry to stun their assailant, but then Ron was letting out horrible wheezing noises, and Harry was panicking, trying to remember the wand movements for a portkey. But then Ron had grabbed his hand, and looked up at him with desperate, panicked eyes. And as if it was the most difficult task in the world (and it probably was), he gasped out, "Harry, I love-"

But as to who he loved would remain a mystery, because Ron's eyes closed and he slumped to the floor, succumbing to the curse cast upon him. Harry had remained frozen, mind unwilling to comprehend what just happened, for seconds, seemingly minutes, hours, days, until the rest of their team found them and rushed them to St. Mungos. It was then it was discovered that Ron was in a coma. And no one had any clue when he would wake up. If ever.

And so, the search began. It was almost like at Hogwarts, he thought bitterly, another mystery to be solved and researching in the library until the late hours of the night. Except they were missing funny remarks and half-hearted complaints and mischievous blue eyes that tried to distract them from the task at hand. Harry thought he would be sick.

And so they searched for days that turned into weeks, until a month later they had found nothing, and Harry stood at the edge of Ron's bed, glaring down at his pale best friend.

"You idiot," he growled. "You absolute git. What the fuck were you thinking, taking that spell? You fucking prick. You- you-" Harry's voice broke, and he choked back a sob. "Wake up, Ron. You have to wake up. I can't so this without you. I can't-" He choked on another sob.

And the thing was, he realized in horror, he couldn't live without Ron. He was the thing he couldn't be without. The thing he'd miss the most. His parents and Sirius and Dumbledore had hurt. But no one held a candle to Ron. And no one ever would. "Please wake up, Ron. Please."

Over the next few months, Harry developed a routine. He'd come in every day during his lunch break and sit by his bed. After work, he and Hermione researched for hours until Hermione called it a night. Then he would make his way back to the hospital and sit at Ron's side for a few more hours. He'd taken to take a chess set, and play against himself while he chatted about everything and nothing. Sometimes he'd talk about mundane stuff, such as Quidditch games and the new WWW products. But he'd also share secrets and wishes and shared thoughts he'd never had before.

One day, as he held a knight in his hand he'd just captured, he said, "This piece was always your favorite. You identified with it. And it's appropriate. You've always been our knight. Always protect us." He paused. "But the thing is, you always seem to think that the knight is the less important piece compared to the rest. That it's expendable. And you're wrong. You have no idea, just how irreplaceable you are. Just how much-" He paused again. "I love you, Ron. And I'm sorry I never told you enough. "

And so the months dragged on. From six, to seven, to eight, and nine. And slowly, Hermione spent less hours at the library and the Weasleys ran out of leads. It seemed there was no cure. And Ron would wake when he wanted to. If ever.

But Harry stayed. And when Hermione raged at him for the dozenth time that he was wasting his life away, he snapped, "he's here because of me!"

Hermione's eyes hardened. "Don't you dare start. He loved you. This isn't about-"

"I know," he said. "I know he did."

Her gaze softened, and she said, " he might never wake up."

"I know."

And so the routine continued. And Harry joked with Ron that he was practicing so much chess, he'd surely beat him when he woke. And he refused to believe otherwise. And the one-sided conversations continued.

"You're disgusting for putting pineapple on pizza you know. I think you do it to spite me."

"You never really dated after Hermione. Why is that?"

"Remember that time you threw orange juice at Malfoy? Classic."

"I saw Seamus and Dean today. Did you never they were gay? Hermione and Ginny were shocked I didn't know. But it'd be interesting wouldn't it? Dating your best friend? It'd surely be easier. Not that I see you that way. I mean you're quite fit, but... huh."

"Ginny made the Harpies. You'd be so proud of her."

"What if I dumped a bunch of spiders on you? Would that wake you up?"

"You always seemed a little jealous whenever I went out on a date. I never got it. You can pull enough girls on your own, you know? They flirt with you as well, so what were you so jealous of?... I guess I wouldn't mind it too much if you were jealous of them."

"C'mon you lazy git. I know you love your sleep, but this is a little excessive. "

"I finally beat Bill at chess today. Aren't you proud?"

"Teddy turned four today. You should've seen his face when he blew out the candles. He looked just like Tonks."

"So um... I think I might be a little gay?"

"Please wake up, Ron. Please wake up."

And it was a year and two months after the attack, and Harry was so concentrated on the chess board that he didn't notice, not until he heard a weak, "Harry?"

His head shot up, and he stared in shock at the bright, blue eyes that haunted his dreams. The ones he'd missed more than anything.

He smiled. "Hey, Ron."

#anonymous #ask game #warriorlid writes #rarry #ronarry #ron weasley #harry potter

[ageofevermore]

1-100 baby, let’s do this!

1. What is you middle name?

Mackenze (mackenzie not fucking mackenz ro)

2. How old are you?

16 (almost 17)

3. When is your birthday?

December 26

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Capricorn 

5. What is your favorite color?

Purple

6. What’s your lucky number?

2

7. Do you have any pets?

No

8. Where are you from?

New Jersey (i mean i’m african america + german + irish)

9. How tall are you?

4’11

10. What shoe size are you?

9 ½ 

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Over 17 ...

12. What was your last dream about?

i have the weirdest fucking dreams ever, but im pretty sure it had something to do with my going back to in person school but ending up at ikea and then their was a Princess bounce house and i saw a little girl i know but then i ran away because i missed my marketing class and cried bc we were drawing octopuses and i got an F... like what the hell is that?!

13. What talents do you have?

none :)

14. Are you psychic in any way?

i mean i have been known to predict a pregnancy... 

15. Favorite song?

WAP? (i have a lot man)

16. Favorite movie?

I HATE movies, but like anything Marvel 

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Idk man, Tom Holland?

18. Do you want children?

Yes, 100%

19. Do you want a church wedding?

Lol, no thanks 

20. Are you religious?

Nope

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes! It’ s one of my favorite places (that sounds horrible but like, i’ve just always enjoyed it their and find it mesmerizing? Also Greys..)

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

No

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Yes, but like really old ones who i don’t even know the name of, oh and the cop from one of the Spiderman movies :)

24. Baths or showers?

Showers

25. What color socks are you wearing?

I’m not wearing socks

26. Have you ever been famous?

Nope

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

Yeah

28. What type of music do you like?

Country, Showtunes, Pop, some Rap, Alternative 

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

No

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

I don’t own real pillows, but i do have a body pillow and like a throw pillow...

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

On my side of my stomach

32. How big is your house?

It’s a ranch, not that big. 3 bedroom, 1 ½ bath

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

I don’t eat breakfast 

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

A nerf gun...

35. Have you ever tried archery?

Nope

36. Favorite clean word?

Orgasmic 

37. Favorite swear word?

Twatwaffle, Cuntasaurous, Bitch, Dick, Pussy, Fuck

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Around 48 hours

39. Do you have any scars?

Yup (my favorite ones my boob one bc its the only one i got and it wasn’t because i was being a complete idiot…)

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

It wasn’t a fucking secret this boy is obvious as all hell

41. Are you a good liar?

Yes

42. Are you a good judge of character?

Yeah

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

Yup

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I don’t think so

45. What is your favorite accent?

British 

46. What is your personality type?

Mediator INFP-T (mind 64% introverted, energy 63% intuitive, nature 63% feeling, tactics 75% prospecting, identity 75% turbulent)

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

idk

48. Can you curl your tongue?

Yes

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Middle! 

50. Left or right handed?

Right 

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Yes, get the fuck away from me demons 

52. Favorite food?

PASTA 

53. Favorite foreign food?

chinese ..?

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

Messy and i hate it

55. Most used phrased?

The fuck?

56. Most used word?

Fuck

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

Could take 5 minutes could take 2 ½ hours, and i never wear makeup so don’t even try to start with me about how it takes hours to do makeup, i just genuinely enjoy sitting under blazing hot water in the shower 

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I mean, i dont think so?

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck

60. Do you talk to yourself?

yes , i have like two irls and they never wanna hang our already have plans so im my own company 97% of the time

61. Do you sing to yourself?

ALL THE TIME

62. Are you a good singer?

No, i mean i’m good, but i’m also nowhere near professional 

63. Biggest Fear?

Being alone, being rejected...

64. Are you a gossip?

I mean, i do enjoy some tea time, but i also feel anxious half the time when tea is being spilled lol

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

...American Assassin? Is that dramatic? Endgame? Whats a dramatic movie?!

66. Do you like long or short hair?

LONG LONG LONG 

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

Bitch, i can’t even name like 12

68. Favorite school subject?

English

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Extroverted Introvert 

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

No

71. What makes you nervous?

People...

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Yes, tf, if you aren’t I don’t trust you 

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

No, if i did I would be correcting people 73 times a day when they say my name 

74. Are you ticklish?

Sometimes, in some places. I can turn it off

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

No

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

Lol, i mean, maybe?

77. Have you ever drank underage?

I am the queen of drinking at family parties 

78. Have you ever done drugs?

No, but i wanna get high. 

79. Who was your first real crush?

Justin Bieber, but like Harry Styles was two weeks later...i was 6

80. How many piercings do you have?

5 technically 

81. Can you roll your Rs?“

Yes 

82. How fast can you type?

Yes 

83. How fast can you run?

I don’t run, tf

84. What color is your hair?

Brown

85. What color is your eyes?

Idk, they were blue, then they were green, then they were hazel, now i think they’re just brown :(

86. What are you allergic to?

Human interaction… but no my favorite flowers, Lilly’s 

87. Do you keep a journal?

No

88. What do your parents do?

My mom was a teacher, and my dad used to work at the DMV

89. Do you like your age?

No, you don’t understand how badly i want to vote 

90. What makes you angry?

Ignorance and Selfishness 

91. Do you like your own name?

No, but it’s been growing on my ig 

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

Yes! I have two lists, one of names I love and another of names i’d be willing to agree to if my partner doesn’t like my favorites. 

Girls; Olivia, Amelia, Hazel, Leila, Charlotte, Cove

Boys: Brett, Lincoln, Landon

Unisex; Anderson, Montgomery, Maverick, Ocean, Blake 

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

Girl

94. What are you strengths?

Avoiding my problems like they don’t exist 

95. What are your weaknesses?

ADD, anxiety, depression, i mean sorta PTSD i guess surrounding some situations

96. How did you get your name?

My dad named me after Kirsten Dunst (Kyrstin), and my middle name is Mackenze bc Marie is a family name but my mom said ‘lets be original’ bc literally like 6 girls in my family have the middle name Marie

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

No, but my great great great great great grandfather created the brick press

98. Do you have any scars?

Yes 

99. Color of your bedspread?

Pink

100. Color of your room?

Grey

[ghostburs-blue]

Lost and Found

Part Four

He stood there with a look of awe on his face, staring at her.

“Um… can I help you, Peter?” Aiden asked, waving a hand in front of her face to break him from his daze. He shook his head, mind still a little foggy.

“Did you… did you just stand up to Flash and his football gang?” Peter asks, realizing that she had already started walking away from him. He ran to catch up with her.

She simply shrugs. “Yeah, it wasn’t exactly hard. There was something about him though, something strange. I can’t figure it out, but I’m going to talk to him and find out.” Suddenly Aiden stops, whirling around to face Peter. He almost walks into her at the sharp movement.

“Something’s wrong, Peter. This isn’t him, I- I can tell.” She turns around again and makes her way to class, leaving Peter standing in the hallway, staring at her retreating figure.

Aiden barely talked to him the rest of the week, focusing on her school work and trying to distract herself from her ever growing crush on Peter Parker. There, she said it. She had a huge crush on Peter Parker, and it was horrible. But, who can blame her? The kid was geeky, adorable, was weirdly buff, had an amazing personality, and, on top of all of that, he cared about her. But no matter how much she wanted to be closer to him, something stopped her. He’s going to walk out of your life, the voice inside her head said. He’s going to be just like Tom and leave. Don’t let that happen, it continued, leaving Aiden in a daze. 

Ever since her oldest brother, Tom, had gotten a big break in the acting world, he had packed up, moved to L.A., and left their entire family behind. The worst part was, Aiden had loved him with her entire heart. He was like a parent to her, giving her advice and helping her with life when their own parents wouldn’t. All her trust issues stemmed from him leaving, and she hated every second of it. She hated being so vulnerable, and she hated how much one person could have broken her. Aiden was only 8 when it happened. She was 16 now. He used to at least call for birthdays, but eventually, that stopped too.

What hurt the most was that Aiden would see his face everywhere, in upcoming movies and posters. She would see him in celebrity endorsements and award shows. During his speeches, he never once mentioned his family that helped him achieve his dreams, never once mentioned his adoring little sister who would have done anything for him, never once mentioned everything he left behind and all the hurt he had caused people. He was gone, and it took Aiden years to realize that he wasn’t coming back.

She had almost successfully cut off all communications with Peter, mad at him for getting so close to her so fast. He would only see her when she walked past him in the halls, and even then she would speed walk away from him. It hurt him to see her not wanting to talk; he thought that they had really hit it off and would become close. However, he respected her decision and didn’t try to talk to her. Until one fateful night, that is.

Aiden was in her room; she had just finished all of her physics homework and was exhausted. She was second in their grade only to Peter, yet her parents still pushed her to only settle for first and it put an immense load on Aiden. She was only a kid, after all.

She dramatically fell back onto her bed and was a second away from falling asleep when she heard frantic knocking on her window. Her curtains were closed, and Aiden could see a shadowy figure moving around behind it. She grabbed a baseball bat that she kept beside her bed and brought it up next to her head, then stepped forward and grabbed a hold of the curtain fabric. Yanking it open, she almost dropped her bat in surprise; she was met with the wide white eyes of Spider-Man’s suit.

Aiden immediately scrambled to open the window, and it was when he was climbing in did she realize there was a huge gash running down the side of his body that he was clutching. Aiden helped him sit down on her bed, and when Spider-Man brought his hand away from the cut, it came away bright red, covered in blood.

She immediately went into emergency mode, remembering all the first aid that she had to learn in her self-defense class. Then she remembered who was in front of her, and managed to let out a breathless whisper shout, saying, “What are you doing here?!”

Immediately, the figure in front of her reached up and grabbed the edge of the mask, pulling it away from his face. Aiden’s face went white with shock as she gasps.

“PETER?! WHAT THE FUCK?!” She yelled quietly, not able to hide her surprise. At this point, she can see the tears forming in his eyes, and realized he must be in a lot of pain.

“Please, Aiden,” He cries out, voice cracking. “I- I got hurt and I didn’t know where to go and I know you hate me but please, I need help I don’t know what to d-” Aiden cuts him off with a gentle shake of her head.

“I don’t hate you, Peter, I just- I can’t open up to people that easily. But I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay? Just nod if you understand me, I don’t want you using up your energy by talking.” He gave a weak nod, and instantly a steely glint appeared in Aiden’s eyes. She left the room in a hurry, then came back with her arms full of first aid supplies.

“Peter, I need you to- to take the suit off. I can't clean it without bare skin surrounding it,” Without another word, Peter pressed the spider emblem on his chest. The suit loosened up, pooling around his waist as he sat on the bed.

Aiden’s mind goes back into emergency mode, not bothering to focus on his obvious 6-pack or his strong biceps. She bit her lip, surveying the wound. “I’m sorry Petey, but this is definitely going to need stitches.” When she doesn’t get any response from him, she looks up and notices his eyes starting to close. “Hey hey no. Stay with me, okay? Petey, stay with me. Just breathe.” But, her voice was already starting to sound fainter and far away, and with a loll of his head, Peter succumbed to the darkness.

Quickly, Aiden checks his pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when she feels it. She looked at the wound and realized that he’s probably losing a lot of blood, so she gets to work.

She cleaned the wound, then prepared him for stitches. Surprisingly, her hands didn’t shake, and she tried to recall the training course she took. Taking a deep breath, she got to work.

About an hour and one mini-breakdown later, Aiden was done with the gash and she had already checked for and treated any other small cuts and scrapes on his body. For that, however, she had needed to pull his suit completely off his body, leaving him in only his boxers. Aiden didn’t let herself get distracted as she finished washing her hands and came back into the room.

She had arranged him on her bed properly, but the blood had made a mess on her sheets. She had checked his pulse; it was strong and beating at regular intervals. Staring at him, she had no idea what to do. Checking the time on her phone, it read 2 a.m. Then, it hit her. Tony Stark.

Everyone knew that Peter had an internship with Tony Stark, and it sure as hell didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Being Spider-Man was the internship. Picking up Peter’s phone that she had found in a small pocket in his suit, Aiden prayed that it didn’t have a password. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t.

Scrolling until she found the contacts app, she tapped on it and quickly found the contact name that said “Mr. Stark”. For a second she hesitated, and reality came flooding back to her. It was 2 in the morning. Then, she remembers that she has a boy that was a literal superhero in front of her, and Aiden put it all into perspective. Yeah, she thought. I think this is worth the time and attention of Tony Stark. Even though it’s 2 in the morning. With that, Aiden pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear, sucking in a breath as she listened to it ring.

It rang three times before someone said a tired, “Hello? Kid? What happened? It's 2 in the morning and I’m trying to get some sleep here.” Aiden gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She instantly recognized his voice. It was actually Tony Stark.

Aiden shook her head to clear it. She tried to sound as confident as she could when she spoke and hoped her nerves weren’t obvious. “Mr. Stark? Hi, I’m Peter’s friend, Aiden. We have a bit of an emergency.” He stayed silent on the other end of the line, as if inviting her to continue. “Um, about an hour and a half ago, Peter showed up at my window with a huge gash down his side, in his Spider-Man suit.” Aiden paused as she heard a sharp intake of breath. “He passed out, from all the blood loss I’m assuming, but not before he revealed that he was Spider-Man and helped me take the suit off. The gash was really deep, and I cleaned him up and stitched it up.” Aiden hears a sound of protest coming from Tony. “No, it’s okay, I’ve taken a course on all the basic emergency procedures and I passed, so I know how to stitch someone up.” Another sigh. “Anyway, he was passed out through it all and he still is. The bleeding has notably decreased and his pulse is strong and steady. I cleaned up the minor scrapes and cuts as well. But, I don’t know what to do now. I thought it would be best to call you because he works for you or whatever. I also know that his Aunt May must be worried sick, which is horrible. So what do I do?” There was a moment of silence. Then, he spoke.

“Kid, I don’t know what to tell you. What you did was incredible and I know Peter is going to be extremely thankful when he wakes up. I think the best course of action right now is to have me pick him up and bring him to the tower. May knows he has an internship with me, I can convince her that I sent her an email already letting her know that he’s going to spend the night with me and she just forgot. But honestly, you did that all by yourself?” Tony lets out a breathless chuckle. “How’s this. It’s obvious you care about him a lot, and he obviously trusts you enough to put his life in your hands. You can come with me when I take him back to the tower, hm? Are you down to do that? I can call your parents and let them know that you have an internship with me and you spent the night.” He finishes off.

Aiden gasps. “Oh my god yes! But, please just promise me that Peter will be in good hands and he’ll be okay. I-” her voice broke a little. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he didn’t make it.” She finished, trying not to cry.

“Hey, listen to me, it’s going to be okay. Give me your address and apartment number and I’ll be at your window in 10 okay?” Tony soothed her.

Aiden gave a little whimper, then nodded, eventually hanging up after giving him her information. She sat beside the unconscious boy on the bed and moved some of his hair out of his face. Slowly, she leaned in and kissed his forehead, whispering, “Please wake up Petey. Please.” She sat there until, exactly 10 minutes after the call, she heard a knock on her window.

Standing up, Aiden already knew who it was, and opened it, letting Tony into her room. But, she was too worried to fangirl about how cool his Iron Man suit looked, or how quiet it was. The front half seemed to dissolve and he stepped out, leaving the suit hovering an inch off the ground behind him. Aiden barely had time to register it as he walked towards her and wrapped her in a hug. He pulled her back to an arm's length and inspected her, smiling.

“Peter chose a keeper,” he said, smiling.

“Bu- I- Wha- Peter and I aren’t dating!” Aiden finally sputtered out.

Tony just laughed and shook his head, saying, “I never said you were, and I think that just proves my point.” Then, as if he remembered why he was actually here, he looked over to see Peter lying on the bed. His face filled with worry, and he quickly bent over to check Peter’s pulse. Sure enough, it was strong and steady. His gash had been properly bandaged, and a quick look underneath told him that the stitching was correct too. He turned to Aiden.

“Color me impressed. You did a really good job, kid. But I think it’s time to head back now.” Tony said.

Aiden nodded, then seemed to remember something. “Hey um, can I bring my backpack and pack a quick lunch for school tomorrow? I don’t have lunch money and I still have a bit of homework to do and a project to work on,” she said quietly.

Tony just stared at her. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that to me. Besides, you’re definitely not going to school tomorrow. Looking at the obviously used punching bag hanging from the ceiling,” he gestures towards it, “the sports clothes thrown across the room,” he points to the individual pieces of clothing, “and last but not least, this amazing work you did on a live human in a time of need, you have potential, kid. And I’m making sure you do something with it.”

--

a/n - ok so I have everything else already planned out and I actually like where the story’s going (knock on wood) but woo ya! Hope you enjoy reading this, my dudes :)

#peter parker #peter parker x oc #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #tony stark #avengers #tom holland #tom holland angst #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #lost and found #roo’s fics

[parkerparts]

Nothing Scarier Than a Broken Heart

“You’re a gift to the world, Harley,” Peter sighed, burrowing closer to Harley. His cider mug, cupped in his hands, seared Harley’s skin, but he welcomed the warmth.

“I don’t really care about the world, I just care about you.”

“Bold words from a man who told me he wanted to fix the world. Seems like that man would care a lot about the world.”

“What if I told you that you are my world?”

Parkner Halloween Week 2019 Day Two: Spiders, Scary Stories, “I feel like I’m being watched.”

Read on AO3 here.

The click of a flashlight is accompanied by a bright, blinding light that causes Abbie to cringe and Morgan to shriek, half in discomfort, half in delight. Abbie grabs a corner of a blanket, folds it a couple of times, and places it over the bright light, effectively dimming it and giving it a scary, red glow from the color of the crimson blanket.

“There we go,” Abbie says, flashing a grin at the younger girl. It’s Abbie and Morgan’s fall break at school, and Pepper drove them all out to the lakeside cabin to spend the long weekend. Morgan and Abbie set up camp in Morgan’s tent in the backyard, the sound of the wind howling all around them. “Now, what were we going to do, Lady Morguna?”

“You were going to tell me a scary story,” the young girl replies, sitting cross-legged across from Abbie.

“That’s right.” Abbie places the flashlight on the ground face up, letting it cast its light and form long shadows against the walls of the tent. “Once upon a time there was a boy. He was a mechanic, which means he fixed things. He was really good at what he did, but he was very ambitious and never satisfied with just fixing things. He wanted to fix the world.”

Morgan props her chin up with her hand, staring at Abbie with dark, shining eyes. “What was his name?”

Abbie smiles sadly. “Harley. His name was Harley Keener.”

Of course, only the people who actually knew him called him Harley. Most people knew him as Junior. Once, that “Junior” stood for Harley Keener Junior, the son in the spitting image of a man who ran away from his family. Over time, it came to stand for The Mechanic Junior, the mentee of a legend who crash landed in Rose Hill on a snowy winter night.

Junior fixed things. He fixed cars, washing machines, lawn mowers, ovens, bicycles, tricycles, motorcycles, and once, even a unicycle that belonged to Dave Davis, who stubbornly refused to learn how to ride a bicycle or drive a car.

Every summer, a jet landed in a clearing in the woods behind the gas station. Little boys and girls like to run out and watch as Junior, sometimes accompanied by his sister, boarded the jet and took off.

The jet would eventually land in New York, on the grounds of a sprawling, high-tech compound that housed the world’s most famous, yet most controversial, heroes. Junior had never officially met any of them, save The Mechanic Senior. As soon as he arrived, Junior holed himself away in the expanse of laboratory space and got to work.

You see, Junior had a plan, a vision, a dream. He didn’t want to just fix things. He wanted to fix the world.

One summer, when Junior was seventeen and done with the formalities of high school, he locked himself in the labs and made a silent vow to himself to never leave. However, the universe had other plans for him, and these other plans came in the form of Peter Parker.

“I feel like I’m being watched,” Junior muttered aloud, fingertips buried deep in the recesses of metal and wire and electricity and something more like magic.

“You are.” Junior violently ripped his hands free at the unwarranted voice, eyes darting around. The sound of his pocketknife sliding out of its sheath and clicking open reverberated around the sterile room. “Don’t be scared. It’s just me.”

“Show yourself.” Junior swallowed a scream when a body dropped from the ceiling, landing gracefully at his feet in a catlike manner.

“You must be the other kid Mr. Stark talks about all the time. Junior, right? Or was it Tudor? Luther? I wasn’t really paying attention to him. I sort of had a stab wound in my stomach when I called him on the way here. But that was like four hours ago! I’m okay now. I’m Peter Parker, by the way. MJ says I talk a lot, so I’m sorry if I’m bothering you or something like that. I should really stop talking.”

Junior stared at the outstretched hand, let his eyes travel to the boy’s pale, glowing face as he talked a mile a minute, traced the swoosh of his freshly-washed hair, still damp. Before he even registered what he was doing, he placed his hand in the other boy’s. “It’s Harley, actually. Nice to meet you, Peter Parker.”

The gesture seemed to effectively shut the other boy up for more than just a breath. He stared at their joined hands, which should have been moving up and down but instead just held on tightly, but then his eyes wandered up to meet Harley’s gaze, and the world stopped moving for all of half a second. “Oh. Yeah, it’s nice to meet you, Harley.”

Morgan raises her hand like she’s in school. Abbie calls on her with the uptight air of an elementary school teacher. “Yes, Morgan?”

“That’s Harley and Petey, right? Mommy told me they were Daddy’s other kids, that they were my brothers, but I wouldn’t remember them.”

Abbie has to close her eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath before answering. “Yeah. That’s Harley and Peter, your brothers.”

Morgan’s dark eyes pierce through Abbie’s delicate demeanor, like she can see all of the pain buried underneath, and that’s why she just nods. “Tell me more.”

Abbie always finishes what she starts, so she hides her shaking hands beneath her legs and pushes on.

Peter Parker had a vision, and it looked a lot like Harley’s: Harley wanted to fix the world; Peter wanted to save it. They helped each other do just that.

Peter, with his signature sheer genius and emotional intelligence, helped Harley channel his energy into what matters. Within half a decade, they made remarkable progress, accomplishing what only the bright-eyed generation of young geniuses can accomplish. In return, Harley crafted an armor of iron and flies around New York, the country, the world with Peter, doing all they could to save make sure people lived.

In the process of fixing and saving the world, Peter Parker and Harley Keener fell in love.

It started with the little things, as the big things always do. Catching the other staring while working in the labs, not-so subtle touches while working together, saving each other day after day.

It was a cold day in October, back in New York for Peter’s last semester of high school. The door to the lab hissed open, and in slipped Peter with two cups of apple cider and a weary smile. “Rough day?”

Peter shrugged, but the way he collapsed into the nearest chair, said a lot. “You could say that. Could you take over patrol tonight? I know it’s my turn, but I have this huge essay for English due tomorrow, and I’ve barely started. And by barely started, I mean I made the document, but it’s blank and haunting me.”

Harley laughed as he stood and made his way to where Peter was curled up. He settled in the spaces Peter’s body didn’t and tried to get comfortable as he draped the blanket over them. “Of course I will. I’d do anything for you, you know that?”

“You’re a gift to the world, Harley,” Peter sighed, burrowing closer to Harley. His cider mug, cupped in his hands, seared Harley’s skin, but he welcomed the warmth.

“I don’t really care about the world, I just care about you.”

“Bold words from a man who told me he wanted to fix the world. Seems like that man would care a lot about the world.”

“What if I told you that you are my world?”

Peter burst out laughing, cider sloshing dangerously in the mug. “That’s awful, Harley. Truly awful.”

“You love me anyway.” Harley hid his smile in his own mug as Peter flushed.

“Yeah. I love you anyway.”

“This doesn’t sound like a scary story to me,” Morgan pointed out.

Abbie just ruffled her hair and pulled the girl closer. “The best scary stories don’t start out scary. They’re happy at first, and then they become horrible. That’s what makes them so terrifying.”

Morgan sighed, but she still had a light smile plastered on her face, so Abbie knew she wasn’t actually bored. “Can we just get to the scary part now?”

The scariest thing about love was that it never lasted.

When Peter didn’t show up in the labs one afternoon after school, Harley got worried and emerged from the labs for the first time in weeks for something other than patrol, but Peter was nowhere to be found. “FRIDAY, where’s Peter?”

“Mr. Parker is not on the premises. Would you like to call him?”

“Yes.” FRIDAY redirected the call to his phone, which he clutched tightly to his ear, ignoring the stuttering of his heart.

“Junior? This is May.”

May’s warm voice did nothing to calm him. “Hi, May. Where’s Peter?”

“He’s sleeping. He wasn’t feeling well today and stayed home from school.” Peter was Spider-Man. No simple illness was supposed to be able to bring him down, which meant whatever was afflicting him was serious business.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that. Will you tell him I called?”

“Of course. Take care, Junior.”

“You too, May.” Harley ended the call with trembling fingers and retreated back to his section of the labs with a sinking heart.

Hour later, or maybe days, FRIDAY says, “Mr. Parker has entered the labs and is heading your way.”

Harley pulled himself away from his task and stared at the door. After a few moments, it opened, revealing a tired-looking Peter in his favorite pajama pants and one of Harley’s shirts. “Harley?”

“Hey, sweetie. What are you doing here?”

Peter burst into tears. “I’m dying.”

“This isn’t scary. It’s sad.”

“Patience, oh tiny demon.” Morgan giggles. “The fright is yet to come.”

The story is so cliche. It’s the perfect tragedy of love and death and shattered hope, and it makes Abbie want to vomit as she tells it, but Morgan’s looking up at her, enthralled, so she pushes on.

Peter was dying of radiation poisoning. The spider bite left radiation in his DNA, in his blood. The symptoms of it had been subtle at first, barely noticeable, but it had been nearly three years since he was bitten, and the rate at which he was dying sped up enough to cause alarm. The diagnosis from Bruce -- who worked in the same labs that Harley did, so he had no idea how he missed that -- came in that morning.

“Four months?” Harley asked, holding a shaking, sobbing Peter in his own weakening arms. “That’s plenty of time to find a cure.”

Everyone knew those were empty words, but an empty promise was better than letting an empty heartbreak consume them both.

Harley did work on a cure, alongside Peter himself, Bruce, Tony, and any other doctor or scientist Tony brought in. It was the first collaborative project Harley had ever done, aside from whatever he did with Peter, whose soul was so intertwined with Harley’s that it had never really felt like a group project at all, but rather shared ideas and genius. The only difference between Harley and everyone else working on the cure was that he had hope.

“Harley?” He hardly looked up when Peter woke up from the couch he had collapsed on while waiting for Harley to finish his work. He had claimed it would only be ten minutes, but that was ten hours ago, and the early risers of the team were starting to trickle in.

“Yes, honey?” Harley felt Peter’s presence creep closer, felt the fatigue rolling off the other boy in waves. “You should go upstairs, get some sleep.”

Peter’s arms wrapped around his waist, his cold fingers nipping at Harley’s skin, even through his lab coat. “You should too. You look exhausted.”

Harley sighed, marking his place in his readthrough of the data from the latest tests, and whirled around to face Peter. “Have you seen yourself?”

“I look like I’m dying because I am. You look like you’re dying because you are. If you keep up like this, you are going to kill yourself.”

“Peter, I have to keep working.”

“Working on what? Harley, in nine weeks, give or take, I will be dead. I want to spend what time I have alive with my boyfriend, who insists on spending every hour of every day in these freaking labs. It used to be fun down here, when we would create and make to our heart’s content, but now it’s all tests and pitying looks and empty promises.”

“They’re not empty.”

Peter screams out of frustration then, startling Harley out of his sleep-deprived daze and drawing the glares of the few people in the room. “Nine weeks, maybe less, to find a cure for radiation poisoning? You’re mad.”

“Peter, I have to at least try. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I didn’t do everything I could to fix this.”

“You haven’t left this lab in weeks. You haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t slept in days either. You haven’t patrolled once since I got the diagnosis. You haven’t done anything at all. Once upon a time, I met a boy who wanted to fix the world. What happened to him?”

“He fell in love.” Harley reached out to cup Peter’s face, shining with rage and disappointment and concern and heartbreak. “You are my world, Peter. I have to fix you.”

The fight left Peter in a single breath, and his shoulders fell. “Okay. Fine. Just promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“You’re my world too, Harley, and all I’ve ever wanted to do was save the world. Let me save you from yourself.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t easy. They still got into fights about it, but Harley left the lab more, went on patrols with Peter, spent some time with his boyfriend, who grew weaker with every passing day. In return, Peter submitted to the tests and the spark of hope in Harley’s eyes that refused to die.

Then Peter died, and with him, all of Harley’s hope.

Harley Keener fixed things, but he wasn’t even able to fix the one thing that mattered most to him. How was he supposed to be able to fix the world?

That doesn’t mean he stopped trying. He tried his best to carry on with his dream, with Peter’s dream. He ran away from New York, and although he knew Peter cared a lot about New York, about his home, Harley was never able to step foot in the area again. He roamed the world, doing what he could, but he never felt like it was enough. Peter always made him feel like he was enough. God, he missed Peter so much that it hurt to breathe most days, but he carried on and tried his best to live.

They say he’s still out there, that sometimes, when you’re in need, you’ll find yourself visited by a knight in shining iron armor.

“The End,” Abbie sighs, switching off the flashlight. The harsh shadows and red glare in the tent disappear, leaving only the faint, warm glow of the single electric lantern in between their two sleeping bags.

“That’s so sad,” Morgan says, squeezing Abbie’s hand in both of her own. “So what’s what happened to Petey and Harley?”

“Yeah. Your mom or dad ever tell you anything about them?”

“Daddy doesn’t really like talking about them. I think it makes him sad. Mommy mentions them sometimes, but I never knew what happened to them.”

“Well, that’s their story.”

“It’s a sad story. It was a very nice story, but you said you would tell me a scary story.”

Abbie laughs gently, as she helps Morgan zip up her sleeping bag. “I’m sorry, baby. I forgot. Maybe next time?”

“It’s okay. I like it when you tell me stories, even if they’re not very scary but very very sad.”

Abbie smiles fondly. Morgan is still young, but one day, she’d understand. Abbie hopes that day was very far away because she doesn’t want to imagine her little sister’s heart broken, shattered. There’s nothing scarier than a broken heart, than the pain of loving someone. the scariest thing in the world is to watch the people you love get hurt or slip away or die, knowing you can do nothing about it. “Goodnight, Morgan.”

“Night, Abbie.”

Abbie reaches over and switches off the electric lamp. In the silence and the darkness, she takes a moment to collect herself, allows a few of the tears she had held in to escape. It’s been years since Peter died and Harley disappeared, but she feels their absence deeply every day.

“Abbie?” She sniffles quietly and wipes her face before replying.

“Yes, Morgan?”

“I feel like I’m being watched.” Abbie sits up and listened hard, to the world outside their little tent, their safe haven. There, amongst the chirping crickets and the rippling water, was a familiar sound.

“Don’t worry. It’s just the Iron Knight. Want to tell him goodnight?”

Morgan quietly giggles. “Goodnight, Harley.”

The pain in Abbie’s chest intensifies, and for a moment, she can’t breathe, blinded by the tears that threaten to fall whenever she misses Harley the most. “Goodnight, Harley,” she repeats.

Within moments, Morgan’s asleep again. Abbie too lies back down, but she keeps listening intently to the quiet whine of a repulsor hovering just outside the entrance to their tent. When she’s on the brink of sleep, she hears a quiet blast of acceleration and listens as the sound of the repulsor fades away.

#parker halloween week 2019 #peter parker #harley keener #parkner #abbie keener #morgan stark #angst #fluff and angst #fanfiction #bella writes

[raybyanothername]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker Characters: Harley Keener, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds Additional Tags: Background Relationships, Big Brothers, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism Summary:

When in doubt, call for help.

Five times Peter calls Harley for help and one time Harley calls Peter.

If you like this fic and are feeling generous: https://ko-fi.com/raybyanothername 

1.

Harley was elbows deep in an engine when his phone started ringing. He grumbled, pulling his hands out and slid from beneath his mother's sedan with a few grunts and one curse word. He managed to avoid tripping over his own feet as he stood, catching himself on the workbench. He tapped the green button without looking at the screen.

"I screwed up Harley," the voice was soft, light and the teenage boy on the other end of his phone was sniffling. "I screwed up and now Tony's pissed at me, May's mad, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Pete," Harvey said his name slowly, "What happened?"

This was the moment Harley Keener, age 17, realized he had more than one younger sibling. And spiders were harder than sisters.

"So… Tony took your suit?" Harley's eyes scrunched together.

"Yeah. He said if I'm nothing without the suit than I shouldn't have it." Peter had stopped sniffling now, which Harley took to mean that the crying portion of the evening was done. His voice was still a wavering whisper.

Harley sighed, plopping down from his perch on the work table to open his minifridge. "You're making me agree with Tony. And I was really looking forward to arguing with him."

"What?!" Peter screeched, "But. I'm Spiderman, I can't just disappear!"

"You're also 15." Harley rolled his eyes, already prepared for sputters and rambling defense. "You've quit most of your hobbies, Pete. All the stuff you use to enjoy. Just to be Spiderman."

Peter squawked, "Just?!"

"Dude, you have your whole life to be a super hero." Harley wished he lived closer to New York so he could show up in Queens with ice cream and a foam bat. "You only get a few years as a kid."

"So, what? I just stop being Spiderman?"

Maybe Tony would pay for a plane ticket?

"Technically, you were Spiderman before Tony gave you a suit." Harley grabbed a soda from his fridge, he popped the top one handed. "But. You could also take a break. See what being Peter Parker is like again."

Peter was quiet for a minute. "Just Peter Parker?"

"Just?!" Harley mimicked Peter's earlier outrage. Peter chuckled. "Peter Parker is way more than Spiderman. Just like Tony is more than Iron Man."

Peter was quiet again. Harley drank his soda, slurping loudly so Peter could hear him. The teen started laughing again, "You're way better at explaining this than Tony was."

"Who do you think lectures him about it?" Harley grinned to himself. They answered simultaneously.

"Rhodey."

"So... why's May mad?" Harley asked as he started back towards his workbench.

Peter's laugh turned nervous, "I…kinda got detention. For ditching school."

Harley paused in his step, "Dude. You screw up our plans for MIT, I will kick your ass. Spider powers be damned." He took another drink, "Speaking of, does Ned own a foam bat?"

-.-.-

2.

>>> Help!!!

Harley looked at the three exclamation marks as he walked out of class. He started walking towards Amherst St as he typed out a response to Ned.

>>> What's Peter doing now?

>>> Planning.

Oh. That could not be good. Harley checked his watch and then tapped on his phone app. Peter picked up quickly, which meant Karen had redirected him.

"Ned is concerned." Wind whistled. Definitely swinging.

"It's a perfectly good plan!" Peter's voice was huffed. The wind stopped. Peter cleared his throat, "It's way better than his European bachelors plan!"

Harley stopped mid-step, "What is Ned planning to do to the European bachelors?" Someone jostled him from behind and Harley kept walking.

"No," Peter scoffed, "We'd be bachelors in Europe. Pick up women in every city sort of deal."

"Given that you're both awkward and completely inept at flirting -" Peter screeched "- I agree, that's a horrible plan." Harley punched in his code at the entrance to his dorm.

Peter immediately launched a defense, "I'm not completely inept! I got the most popular girl in school to go with me to Homcoming onc-"

"Then you ditched her to take down a supervillain.

"- And! I'm smooth, like I'm a superhero, so obviously I have killer moves."

Harley snorted, "Are you or are you not currently standing atop a building in your suit talking to midair." Peter shut up. "And gesturing! I'd be missing a key part of the whole scene if I forgot the hand gestures."

"Okay…you may have a point." Peter grumbled. Harley smiled to himself as he climbed the stairs. He'd just reached his room when Peter finally broke under the pressure of silence. "But my plan to ask MJ out will totally work!"

Aha! MJ. He should have known.

"Please," Harley threw his bag on his bed and took a seat at his desk, "Enlighten me." He kicked his feet up onto the desk as he leaned the chair back onto two legs.

Peter immediately jumped into a thorough explanation of his courtship blueprint, "So it starts on the plane…"

-.-.-

3.

There was a loud ringing in Harley's ear that wouldn't stop. He groaned and pushed at the large piece of a building on his chest. At least he was fairly positive the debris was from a building. That had been what the dude with the superpowers had thrown at him.

"How the hell did Tony handle a moon?" Harley whined as the repulsors in his hand blew the rubble away. He stood on shakey feet. At least the superpowered maniac had been subdued by his drones. "Nate, damage report?"

Harley shook his head as his A.I. began listing out his injuries. Nothing major, just a few bruised ribs and a possible concussion. The damage to the area was worse, several of the buildings were missing sections of walls, even foundations.

"Dude, couldn't you have given some consideration to structural integrity?!" Harley aimed his shout at the person he'd just taken into custody. Given the way they were snarling and struggling against their restraints, Harley considered the chance of a response minimal.

"Shall I reach out to the Xavier Institute?" Nate's electronic voice filtered through Harley's ear. He merely nodded and within minutes Nate had an E.T.A blinking in the upper corner of his display.

It was longer than Harley was hoping for. His dream of a nice long soak before bed was looking more like a quick shower at this point. He blamed Tony. It was his idea, and his requirement, that Harley sleep a minimum of six hours a night before work. It was in the Young Avengers' contract AND his Stark Industries contract.

"You have an incoming call from Peter Parker." Nate didn't wait for Harley to acknowledge him, he connected Peter immediately.

"If this has anything to with superhumans, metahumans, or a coming apocalypse I must inform you that I'm already at my maximum superhero hours for the week." Harley grinned as Peter's face appeared on his screen. The younger man's face immediately startled, eyes going wide.

In the video call Peter was standing in his dorm room, two ties in his hands, "I just need to know which color I should wear for my presentation…"

"Well, then…" Harley laughed, "Free as a bird. This is the Stark Foundation thing right? The proposals for funding?"

Peter nodded and his voice literally squeaked, "Yeah."

"Purple." Harley ignored both the red and blue ties in Peter's hand. "Everyone always wears red for that and Morgan will be there so she'll get a kick out you wearing Rescue's colors instead."

"Pepper won't think I'm trying to butter her up?" Peter threw the ties in his hand on his bed and started rifling in one of his drawers. He emerged with a triumphant cheer and a purple tie in hand. There were cartoon stars drawn on it in yellow.

Harley grinned at Morgan's attempts to 'brighten up' Peter's wardrobe, "Nah. Rhodey's judging this year." Peter visibly breathed out. "Relax, Pete, your project's good on its own. You deserve the funding, same as everyone else."

"I just don't want anyone to think I'm taking advantage…" Peter averted his eyes. Harley snorted. Peter glared.

"Dude, Tony offered you the money to fund the project outright and you applied for the grant instead," Harley looked pointedly at Peter before rolling his eyes. "Now, put on your tie and try not to stutter."

The sound of a jet landing nearby cut off Peter's attempts to defend himself. Harley smiled before he hung up. It was officially bath time!

-.-.-

4.

There was no doubt in Harley's mind who was calling. The phone hadn't shut up in at least half an hour and there were only three people in his life that persistent. And his little sister was in Bali with Morgan, so that left Peter. Nate would have informed him of any family or Avengers related emergency, so Harley just let it ring. Eventually, it stopped.

God did his head hurt. He had no idea how Tony had ever managed to function back when he drank. Harley barely managed to grab his trash can when the phone started up again.

"Nate!" Harley called out as he crawled from his spot on the floor to the couch. He brought the waste basket with him.

"How may I be of service, *sir*?"

Harley cringed. Nate only sir-ed when he was annoyed. "Will you please tell Peter to call back later? I really can't deal with the noise much longer."

"Of course, sir."

The window in front of Harley darkened and then Peter appeared on his screen. "Harley! I've been calling for an hour!"

"Sh-" Harley groaned and then tried not to get any splatter on his hair as emptied his stomach. Peter gaped at him from the screen.

"Are you…*drunk*?" Peter whispered the word like it was a curse and his eyes even darted around like he expected someone to reprimand him. Which…okay, Harley understood that. "Mr. Stark will be furious! It's 10am!"

Harley glared at him, "I'm hungover, not drunk. And it's Saturday, Pete." Peter looked unconvinced, lips pursed and eyes wide. "What'd'ya need? I need to crawl to my bathtub sometime in the near future."

"What?" Peter's lips quirked and he hid a laugh by biting his tongue. "I…uh, just need some advice."

"If you're trying to get back with MJ again I will get on a plane right now to vomit on you." Harley said with a monotone. "You've both broken up with each other now. The circle is complete."

Peter blushed, "It's not MJ!" He started stammering and waving his hands around immediately. Harley blinked as he attempted to dissect Peter's description of study breaks and movie marathons and… Oh!

"You finally figured out you're in love with Ned, congratulations." Harley droned out, though he did manage to smile when Peter startled so bad at the word love that he got himself stuck on the ceiling. "I promise to be more excited when my body stops trying to invert itself."

"That's why we're not suppose to drink!" Peter crossed his arms as he jumped back to the floor. He frowned at Harley.

Harley shrugged, "Everyone has to try being drunk at least once right?" Peter's brow furrowed further. Harley sighed, "What advice do you need, Pete?"

"Well…" Peter dropped his hands to his side. His eyes shifted to the ground. "…I don't know how to ask Ned out."

"Repeat after me, Pete," Harley started. Peter scrunched up his brows, but nodded. Harley grinned, "Hi Ned."

"Hi, Ned."

"I like you..."

"…I like you…" Peter fidgeted.

Harley continued, "As more than friends."

"As more than friends."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Can I kiss you?" Peter repeated the words and then coughed, "What?! No! I can't say that, it's too forward!"

Harley rolled his eyes and then immediately flinched. "Nate?" Harley groaned. His A.I. chirped to attention. "Send the recording of this video to Ned."

"As you wish." Harley smiled at the lack of 'sir.'

On the screen Peter was yelling. Harley just leaned back against his sofa, "I've been watching you two pine after each other for years, Pete. You'll thank me later." He reached forward and hit a button on his remote.

Peter's face blinked away.

"The video has been received."

Harley nodded and then started the long crawl for his bathtub. Nate decided to report on the side effects of excessive alcohol consumption the whole way.

Three hours later he got a text from Peter.

>>> You're an asshole when you drink. >>>…but thanks.

-.-.-

5.

With great power came great responsibility… and apparently a whole slew of teens who didn't realize superheroing didn't come with health insurance.

"How does someone even break this many bones sparring with a dummy?" Harley groused to himself as he read over the incident report from the last Young Avengers training session.

Tony'd taken one look at it, burst out laughing, and handed the report to Harley. He bet Captain America didn't have to deal with this sort of thing.

"Na-te…" Harley whined and pushed his tablet away to lay his head on the table. His A.I. chirped to life with a sound exceptionally similar to a snicker.

"How may I be of service?" Nate was far too cheerful.

Harley glowered at the ceiling, "How much would it cost to pad every surface in one of the training rooms?"

"Calculating…" Nate drawled, "I don't believe that will be conducive to a realistic training experience."

"Let me dream," Harley sighed and reached for his tablet just as it began to chirp with new notifications. None of them were from his team or a medical professional, for once.

His phone started ringing with Peter's ringtone and Harley had no time to greet his little brother before the younger man started rambling, "Open the attachment! Open it!"

"Okay…" Harley chuckled and clicked in to one of his notifications, it was indeed a message with a photo attachment from his favorite spider-themed superhero. He grinned as the message loaded up on to the projector screen, "This isn't some weird porn like last time is it?"

"That was perfectly tasteful fanart of me!" Peter was definitely blushing, and bouncing on the balls of his feet based on his excitement. Based on the thudding, he might even be bouncing from wall to wall.

Harley tapped slowly on his screen, "I don't know, that was an iffy pose for you and Deadpool to be in together... You know he's too old for you right?"

"Harley!" Peter whined just as Harley finally hit the button for the photo to pop up on the screen.

"Holy shit…" Harley breathed out at the ring suddenly sitting before his eyes. It had a spider web like design around the band and some small red and blue stones at key joints in the webbing. "Is that…"

"It's good right?" Peter launched into a frantic ramble immediately, "I know it's kind of Spiderman themed but Ned's been my Guy in the Chair for years now so I thought he'd like the nod, ya know? Sort of, I don't acknowledging his contributions as my teammate and my…my…uh…"

Harley pursed his lips as Peter stumbled over calling Ned his boyfriend.

"…it's just not enough of the right word!" Peter stomped his foot. "He's more than that, and I want to get this right…"

"Want me to send him a recording of you rambling about how to phrase your proposal?" Harley asked and Peter squawked. Harley laughed, "You got this Peter. He'll love it."

Peter let out an audible breath, "Okay, yeah, you're right."

"You've been inseperable for years, even before you starting making out on rooftops," Harley teased, illicting another squawk from Peter, "Chances are you won't even have to say anything, just get down on one knee and show him the ring."

Harley looked up at his screen at the intricate metalwork. It was absolutely the most Peter style ring he'd ever seen.

"And hey, if he says no, I have a whole legion of semi-competent teenagers you can have has consolation."

Peter snorted, "No way. The Young Avengers are your problem. I'm strictly a solo guy until we get invaded by aliens."

"I'll throw in a set of ginsu knives!" Harley half-begged as Peter started laughing at him. His tablet chirped with a notification from the Avengers medical unit. "Please?!"

"I'll take the knives as a wedding present instead," Peter chuckled. Harley pouted for a second until he heard a faint gasp from Peter's side of the phone.

Ned's voice was quiet from distance and slightly squeaky, "What wedding?" Peter's line went dead just as Harley started cackling.

"I have the estimates for a padded training room," Nate cut in as Harley slouched back in his chair.

"Email it to me," Harley sighed and kicked his feet up on the chair, "I'm gonna celebrate Peter's engagement first, before I get bombarded with wedding planning."

Nate chirped unhappily as Harley ordered one of his drones to grab him a bottle of champagne. It was 5 o'clock somewhere after all.

-.-.-

+ 1

Being Peter's big brother was a lot easier when Peter was the one coming to him for help. Girls, boys, spidey-related mishaps - Harley could handle it all. This… this was out of his area of expertise.

"Hey Harley!" Peter answered on the first ring in a chipper voice. The sounds of machinery in the background told Harley he was at his lab, probably manufacturing some cool new gadget.

"Hey…" Harley's voice sounded rough and strained even to him. "You, uh, got a sec?"

Peter's side of the phone suddenly went quiet and his voice lowered to a whisper, "Is everything okay Harley?"

"Tony might have been right about my overextending myself," Harley cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, "With the Young Avengers and taking over Stark Industries and coordinating with the Accords council and-"

"What do you need?" Peter asked, all ready to launch in to action. Harley heard him futzing around his lab and had to smile at the visual in his head. "What can I do?"

Harley took a breath, glanced around at the deserted beach he was sitting on. His Iron Lad armor, and Nate, were nowhere in sight. There was an empty bottle of tequila at his feet. Harley really hated when Tony was right.

"Well… I kinda need a ride, to start."

"You got it!" Peter starting typing, the familiar sounds of clacking keys practically music to Harley's ears. "Where are you?"

That… was a really good question.

"Haven't a clue," Harley chuckled dryly. The sound cracking in his throat, "Honestly, I'm not even sure this is the phone I had last night."

Peter coughed to hide his squeak, "Don't worry, I'll triangulate your signal, Harley. You'll be home in no time!"

Yup. Home. Where Tony would be waiting with worry and disappointment in equal measure.

"Damn. I really screwed up this time, huh Pete?" Harley knew he was in trouble when Peter didn't laugh. Welp. Even big brothers screw him sometimes, or so Rhodey had told him once.

"That's what brothers are for right?" Peter said with a half-laugh Harley knew was meant to be comforting.

It actually was too. Harley fell backwards into the sand, "Yeah, thanks Pete."

#ray writes #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel #mcu spiderman #iron family #harley keener #peter parker

[toastedside]

A Night Together

Tony Stark pacing around his house with his hand busy trying to fix his already perfect tie, muttering instructions without actually paying attention to the other party that supposed to listen. Behind him, a bored yet somewhat amused teenager trailed behind him clearly not paying any single attention towards his instructions. His hand, however, find its way to snatch a ripe apple laying around in the kitchen counter and start munching it.

“Here’s some money for you to order pizza,” Tony slid money to the kitchen counter, “or you can have pasta. There’s pasta in the–”

“Left cabinet,” Peter cut in without bating an eye to Tony. “I get it, Mr. Stark. You talk as if I am not here most of my weekends.”

Tony frowned slightly as his response. It’s true that Peter spend most of his weekend on Stark’s lake house if he doesn’t get buried under pile of homework or having a Lego assembling night with Ned. But that fact didn’t make Tony’s worries fade away.

“Maybe I should just cancel this. I still can cancel,” Tony started to mutter under his breath again, but Peter’s enhanced sense catch every single word.

“What?” Peter let out an exaggerated gasp. “No! You’ve planned this for weeks, Mr. Stark. Weeks! There’s no way I would let you back out now.”

“But–”

“We’ll be fine, Mr. Stark. Morgan and I already have plan for tonight anyway. It’s not like I will put your kitchen on fire again.”

“Again?”

Tony’s eyes went comically wide within second. If it’s not Peter’s clumsy accident for accidentally slipping his dammed secret he would’ve had his best laugh right now. Instead, Peter not so slyly scratch the back of his head trying to act as calm and collected as possible under Tony’s stern gaze.

It was an accident that only him and Happy knew. Happened few weeks ago when he tried to help Happy cook his tuna casserole that went horribly wrong. He almost put the kitchen on fire if it’s not for Happy quick action to turn the stove off. Thankfully, Morgan was on her nap time and Tony in his lab, leaving them alone with Pepper attending important meetings. They promised to each other to never speak of anything regarding that day.

Tony opened his mouth to say something but quickly cut off by a loud shriek coming from the stairs.

“Petey!” Morgan shrieked. “Mommy say that I got to spend tonight with you.”

“Cool!” Peter beamed at the six years old kid hugging his leg, thankful that her presence saving him from Tony’s questions that might ended his life. He’s bad at lying, after all. “I promise you to build Cinderella’s Castle Lego, didn’t I?”

“I thought you say death star.”

“Oh, that’s for next week,” Peter promised. “Cinderella’s Castle for tonight.”

Pepper appeared behind them, looking beautiful with her dress. She threw a worried glance towards Peter for a few minutes before she let out a quiet sigh.

“Peter, is this really alright for you?”

“Of course, Mrs. Stark! I volunteered, didn’t I?” Peter smiled as he picked up Morgan and put her on his hip, smiling at the woman trying to ease her mind. “It’s your anniversary tonight! It’s your night. You get to spend the night alone together and leave Morgan with me. When was the last time you get to go on a date?”

“Yeah, Mommy! I am going to have a date with Peter tonight!” Morgan chimed in excitedly and Peter raised his eyebrows slightly, not sure if Morgan actually understand what she said.

“Wow, that’s nice, bug.”

Honestly speaking, neither Pepper nor Tony remember when was the last time they actually have a nice date together alone without a third party tagging them along. Maybe it was years ago, long before they settled down and have Morgan. Having a kid can be pretty distracting and require immediate and immense attention. But now she is six and have a big brother to take care of her.

Pepper smiled as she bid her goodbye, peppering Morgan with kisses and planted a nice peck on Peter’s forehead. Peter still get awfully shy at her affection, no matter how many times she had done that every time Peter paid a visit. Tony sternly asked him to immediately call him or Pepper if something happen which Peter brushed it off and told them oh my god, nothing’s gonna happen tonight! Just enjoy your dinner! and promised they will come back before midnight.

Soon enough, Peter found himself sitting in the living room with pieces of Lego spread around him with a very concentrated Morgan trying to assembling pieces of Cinderella’s Castle. Peter tried to help her a little but she only frowned every time Peter offer her a hand. Come on, Petey. You promised I get to build this! and Peter could only smile at her adorable determination to build a castle without his help. He always proudly admitted that he is proud that Morgan picked one of his favorite things, which is Lego, and said she will beat him one day.

“Look!” Morgan said with a beaming smile, shoving a Prince Charming and Cinderella Legos on his lap. “That is me and you.”

“Am I your Prince, then?” Peter couldn’t hide his amusement and only to frown when Morgan shook her head, clearly confused.

“No!” Morgan said without missing a beat, “you are my Spider-Man!”

“But I can be your prince, too!” Peter placed his hand on his chest acting as if he was hurt by her words.

Morgan let out a fit of giggles at his expression. “Okay, you can be my prince and my Spider-Man!”

They sat for another thirty minutes until their pizza came and Morgan decided she want to watch Paw Patrol instead. Peter carefully placed a half-assembled Lego on the coffee table with a concerned Morgan gave in instructions and plea on not letting her down. He found it extremely hilarious to have her standing next to him vibrating with concern for her precious castle.

They sat in silence as they munching their dinner with Morgan carefully nibbling on her pizza. Peter helped her to cut it into smaller pieces so it’ll be easier for her to eat. Morgan beamed excitedly every time she spotted Skye on the screen, nudging Peter slightly and remind him that she is her favorite as if she never stopped talking about it.

“Why is she your favorite, bug?” Peter managed to ask.

Morgan hummed silently whilst nibbling her pizza. “She can fly.”

“She rides helicopter, yes.”

“Just like Daddy!” she said defensively, “and you. She always helping people like you and Daddy. I want to help people too when I am older. Do you think Daddy will let me?”

Peter blinked at her question, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Tony Stark would never let her to be like either him or her brother, that’s for sure. He would allow her to do anything in order to achieve her dream, obviously, but to go on a field and actually become a hero is a big no from him. If only Peter wasn’t a Spider-Man in the first place he would never ever let Peter become a hero and let alone an Avenger.

“I don’t know, bug,” Peter answered honestly. “But you can always help people in different ways. Like Mommy!”

Morgan shrugged. “I think Mommy’s okay too.”

By the time the clock hits eight, Morgan suddenly become exhausted. She blinked her eyes rapidly trying to fight the stubborn sleepiness that crept on her. Peter watched her stubbornly trying to stay awake with an amused smile, her eyes fixed on the screen trying to watch another episode of Paw Patrol. Fifteen minutes later as the episode ended with the big logo of Paw Patrol appearing on the screen, Morgan peacefully drifted off next to him on the couch.

Peter carefully carried her to her room trying to not wake her up. But multiple times spending his weekend here made him pretty skillful in carrying a sleeping child to their bed without waking them up from their slumber. He carefully laid her down on her bed, moving few stuffed animals out of the way so she can lay down comfortably. If Morgan is awake to witness him practically tossed her stuffed animals, she would be yelling in horror.

“You can’t hurt them like that, Petey! They have feelings too!” he could hear her saying that to him with an adorably stern gaze that remind him way too much with her father. Ever since he introduced her to Toy Story, she wouldn’t shut up about toys having feeling and ask every single people to treat her toys with respect.

“Have you checked the cupboard for monsters?” Morgan sleepily asked, her eyes were still closed and Peter couldn’t help but smile.

“Already did, bug. All clear,” Peter fondly whispered, slowly crouch down next to her as he moved few strands of her hair out of her face. “Now sleep, okay? Mommy wouldn’t be please to know you’re still awake at this hour.”

“Can you sleep with me here, please?” Morgan pleaded, her eyes now half open and stare into Peter’s with her infamous puppy eyes that no adult can resist. “In case of monsters suddenly come.”

“Okay,” Peter answered almost immediately. “Move aside, bug.”

She dutifully moved a little bit to the side and quickly scoot closer as soon as Peter slipped himself under her Moana blanket. Peter let out an amused sigh as he threw an arm around her figure, slowly feeling exhaustion coming to his body. Morgan passed out almost as soon as she is securely tucked under Peter’s chin and the sound of her steady breathing made Peter relaxed too.

Peter closed his eyes, letting sleepiness took over him and slowly he fell into deep slumber with Morgan in his embrace as he made a mental note to introduce Morgan to Monster Inc. as soon as possible.

====================================

The clock already turned 11:45 PM when Tony and Pepper came home, exhausted and happy with how they dinner turned out. Pepper frowned at the messy living room and a tv that played an episode of Paw Patrol with a low volume, wondering where the kids might be. Peter never leave the living room messy after his playdate with Morgan.

Tony already made his way upstairs when Pepper followed to check the room and only to be pleasantly surprised with the sight of two sleeping kids cuddled each other on their bed. Tony watched from the doorframe as Pepper silently and carefully placed kisses on their foreheads, holding her breath for a few moments as Morgan stirred in her sleep.

“It’s okay, ‘m here. No monsters,” Peter slurred in his sleep, silently pulling Morgan a little closer.

Pepper threw a glance towards Tony who already stifled an amused laughter before she walked out the room and turned off the lights. Tony and Pepper made their way to the living room, watching whatever movie that came with a low volume as they talked to each other silently thinking at how full and lucky they are with Morgan and Peter in their life.

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