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justabrooklynkid:

All the warning he has is the soft soft sound behind him, a rustle that should be too quiet to be actual footfalls. But they are, and when Steve whirls around even before the first word is spoken, he finds, to his surprise, the blue-and-red clad figure that he encountered earlier in the chaos of the battle perched there on the edge of the building.

Having run into him earlier, Steve had had no idea where he’d come from or what he was - how he had been able to stand on vertical walls as though they were horizontal - but after Loki and the aliens, nothing had been able to surprise him much anymore. What had mattered in that moment had been that the boy had asked how he could help.

So Steve had told him, had sent him off to help and keep safe as many civilians as he was able to.

His shoulders relax when he takes him in, deciding not to bother with the question of how he ended up this far above ground just like he didn’t bother with the rest of it. It’s not important, at least not right now.

His words make the corners of Steve’s mouth curl briefly, a tired part of him amused despite everything.

“If we’re being honest, ugly aliens were alway more likely than pretty angels,” he replies, taking his time to really take the boy in now. He might even be younger than Steve had thought at first, judging by his voice and the structure of his body, but maybe he shouldn’t dwell on the question of how young this kid really is.

“You got by alright?”

Peter holds his breath for a moment. His nerves have settled after the first initial rush of adrenaline that has kept him aware during the battle, fighting aliens and trying to get civilians out of the way as good as possible. But now the dust around them - or rather far below them on the streets - has settled, and he has the briefest moment to realize that he is actually talking to Captain friggin’ America here. Someone he has heard so much about, whom he has read about as a kid. But he’d never thought that they would one day actually meet, even less work together. Kind of. Sort of. In a way. Well. Peter has helped, after all.

He resists the urge to pinch himself, just to make sure that he isn't dreaming after all. Should he stand up straight? Or should he keep crouching like this, here on the edge of the building? Would that seem impolite? He is thinking too much again!

He finally decides to just clear his throat once again and tilt his head from one side to the other. On closer inspection, this guy looks way too young to be the real deal after all. But it doesn’t change the fact that he is wearing some official looking spandex and has yelled orders at Iron Man and The Hulk! Whoever he is, Peter calls himself impressed.

“Yeah, I’m fine, aside the fact that I almost wanted to call the Ghostbusters, or something. I mean, these guys weren’t full on H. R. Giger, but close enough to make me worry at least a tiiiiny bit.”

His eyes and head follow the path up to the sky that the blue light has taken only a few minutes ago, tearing open to sky to unleash hell on earth.

“That thing is closed now, yes? No one else coming for a visit a few minutes late, or anything?”

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Reblog this if your muse is bi.

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justabrooklynkid:

@amazingmanofspiders

It’s been only one week since he last saw it - at least for him. For the world it’s been nearly seventy years, and of course they forgot. Or maybe it just hadn’t been documented well enough.

He tries not to think too much about the reasons while he watches Selvig carefully carry the Tesseract away. Steve doesn’t follow, not yet, remaining next to the machine it had been held in on Stark’s rooftop, to take a moment and just breathe.

From up here the destruction the aliens have left behind all over Manhattan is painfully obvious. People have come back outside, slowly, tentatively, tiny from so far away.

The others are still where they have found Loki, taking care that he isn’t going to pull any last tricks. He should get back to them. But Steve’s gaze lingers on the city below him that still feels familiar, in its core, but right now looks so foreign that he could just as well be on a different planet.

Life as someone with special abilities is always full of surprises. It certainly never gets boring.

Strange, at times. It got very, very strange. When he has to fight grown up people wearing self-made wings, or giant horns, or whatever comes to their minds that makes Peter wonder if they aren’t’t just living out their fursona personalities, for example. Something that has made him also a little weary of sports and fast food chain mascots.

But even with these strange things in mind, battling aliens instead of picking up books from the library certainly is a new experience.

As is actually meeting some of these people that he’s only heard about, but asking for autographs in the middle of a battle when there are lives at stake probably isn’t the most clever idea.

But once the rift is closed and the dust has settled somewhat, he dares to come closer, and lands on the edge of what is left of the top of Stark Tower, tilting his head in question.

“So, that blue shiny thing there did all this? Always thought that when heaven opens its gates it would be pretty angels that show up, not … ugly aliens, riding on skeleton whales, to be honest.”

Ah right. Smooth, Peter. That’s certainly a good first impression you left there …

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AmazingManOfSpiders

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spiderwebbedlullaby:

His words bring out a soft, amused huff from her and Natasha mildly draws up her eyebrows at him. Not exactly boyfriend material alright. So maybe it isn’t really surprising that he’s being so casual about it, maybe, once or twice.

She wonders what he would do if he ever really fell in love.

“Would it even be possible for you to live off only one person? Or two, at a time?”

He can see the gears in her head turning, and it makes the smile on his face widen just a tiny bit more. He wonders if she thinks she can see through him, or read him like an open book. Or what it is exactly that she wants to achieve with her questions. Just plain curiosity, really?

Peter gives her a nonchalant shrug, his well tailored suit not even wrinkling.

"Maybe? I assume it would depend. Not on a human, that's for sure. A demon or some other magical creature, maybe. But all in all it would probably depend on that someone's stamina. And I don't just mean in the actual sheets," he is already smirking, but he continues with even more humor in his voice, leaving no doubt that he isn't serious: "Why, are you offering?"

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amazinghawkeye:

“Not really the kind of gig where I have any associates.”  The amusement becomes more apparent in his expression as Peter finishes his thought because Clint tends to agree with him.  Most demons are hard to trust for one reason or another, either by personality or by trade.

“Just be careful who you talk to.  We don’t really know what’s going on and we don’t want to tip off the wrong people if this isn’t just a terrible coincidence.”

It probably goes without saying but it’s best to tread on the safe side of things for now.  It’s part of why he didn’t want to have the conversation in the bar where they could be overheard.

"Well, from what I've heard so far, it doesn't really sound like a coincidence any more. Or if it is one, then it's reaching one a 'all planets must be aligned in a moonless night of June after three weeks of rain to perform the ritual' kind of scale. You know, the kind you get in movies and books to perform certain rituals or for someone special to be born. Heh, still cute, the stuff that humans come up with." Peter laughs, but it sounds hollow even to his own ears and he knows that his grin doesn't reach his eyes by a mile.

This is nagging on him, and he doesn't know yet how to feel about this. Honored, maybe, just a little bit, that Clint at least trust him enough - or probably rather his wide range of connections - to be let in on the big mystery, but the fact that there might be something out there that snatches their kind away is unsettling, to say the least.

"Don't worry, Clint, I have my way of getting the information I want, without anyone even noticing,"  he grins and winks at the other demon. "I know what I'm doing. I'm a professional after all."

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amazinghawkeye:

A hint of a smirk tugs at Clint’s mouth.  He rocks back and forth on his feet a couple of times, his hands shoved deeper into the pockets of his jacket as he eyes Peter.

“I don’t have very many friends.”  It isn’t a statement meant to draw a compliment – it’s simply a fact.  Not very many people want to associate with a demon of his kind.

Clint shrugs.  “I’m sure between the two of you, you can scrounge up a few more eyes and ears.”

“Alright, but also no associates that can be trusted?” Peter shoots a side glance at Clint, but then shrugs and corrects himself. “Nah, scratch that, I wouldn’t trust 99 percent of our kind as far as I can throw them. Which is admittedly not very far when it comes to pure body strength.”

He clears his throat though and scratches his neck, the tingling feeling still bothering more than he likes to admit. As he speaks again, his tone has lost most of his humor. “I’ll keep my ears open. I might know a few people who could know something. Maybe not the most reliable kind, but they get around. They should have an idea if there’s anything going on, and maybe even have a few names that could be involved.”

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amazinghawkeye:

“Her name is Natasha.”  Clint doesn’t know for sure whether or not Peter and Natasha know each other – he doesn’t tend to pry too much into either of their lives or other connections.  But the odds are pretty good that Peter will at least know of her.

He shrugs off the apology.  “If you hear anything, let me know.  Or you can reach out to Natasha,” he says.  “Maybe if all three of us are doing some digging into this we’ll be able to figure out what the fuck is going on.”

It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

Part of his job has always been to remember names and details when needed, so of course the image of the woman’s face, framed by fiery red hair, pops right into his head. “Yeah, the name rings a bell,” he nods. “And judging by our encounters so far, she seems pretty capable of getting the information she wants.”

Peter doesn’t pay attention to where their steps are leading them, as long as they are the only sound on the pavement he can make out. “So that’s it? Just the three of us? No one else to join that secret spy club to figure out the big conspiracy? Doubt that a few more hands, eyes or ears wouldn’t be helpful?”

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amazinghawkeye:

“Unfortunately, that’s the thought,” Clint tells Peter, and mirrors his body language, shoving his own hands deep into the front pockets of his jacket.  

“As far as I know, there still weren’t any leads on who might be the culprit.” Clint lets his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.  “A friend of mine was doing some digging on it, and I told her I would do the same.  Figured if anyone knew anything, or heard any talking, it might be you.”

The more Clint talks, the more concerned he gets and the darker and deeper his frown becomes. “Who's that friend?” he asks curiously, wondering who else knows what’s going on and seems capable enough to figure a few things out.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, in case someone else notices anything. I mean, there are enough chatterboxes among my customers, a few should know something at least.” Or at least he hopes. If this has been going on for a while and the number of disappearances is increasing even, this could mean all sorts of things. And better to be safe than sorry in the end.

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spiderwebbedlullaby:

While he talks, a small, brief smile flickers over Natasha’s lips. It’s good to hear that he understands, and she does believe what he says. So she leans back in her chair, relaxed, and wraps her hands around the cup, enjoying the heat of the porcelain.

“Have you ever been in love?” she wants to know, curious again. Is he able to? Would he want to? Or would it just make everything difficult?

It is a question he has asked himself before, and one of the very few answers he isn’t sure about. At least not 100 percent. But that small bit of uncertainty is well hidden behind a small shrug of his shoulders, no hesitation stretching the silence between her question and his answer.

“Maybe, once or twice,” he laughs and waves it off. “But I’m not exactly what people what call boyfriend material, or someone you’d want to introduce to your mother. So it is all business. And pleasure, of course.”

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Chili Cheese Dogs

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“He was kind of a nerd before he became Spider-Man, but he was a smart nerd.” 

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7/01/2015 - much needed coffee with biology notes ☕️