#did somebody say MORE SPIDER FIC???

[vrisrezis]

Soooo you said something about a Pavitr angst fic? 👀👀👀

What about one where the reader is a spider woman from another dimension and actually stays to comfort Pav after his last scene in the movie? They all left him and I felt so bad like please he needed a hug his world could literally fall apart

GOD ANON LETS KISS I LVOE THIS SHIT

Pavitr was so scared, so unsure. You haven’t seen him like this, ever. Even back when you saw him first discover his powers, when he first became spiderman, he wasn’t like this. And you couldn’t blame him.

He’s never dealt with anything like this, while in many dimensions, spider people have to save their entire city from imminent peril, you know pav hasn’t had to deal with that quite yet. And not only that, he hasn’t learnt the big consequences with becoming spiderman. He hasn’t learned the sacrifice.

You tried to reassure him the other spiders would handle the gaping hole in the middle of his city, that he didn’t need to worry about it at the moment, his city was safe, his best friend and her father were safe too. A comforting hand on his shoulder as you rubbed that spot in circles, while he put his masked face in the palm of his hands. You sat there for what felt like hours, and as you noticed the sky getting dark, you realized it was.

At this point, his face was in your chest, arms wrapped around eachother as you comfortingly rub circles in his back, now, rather than his shoulder.

He speaks for the first time in hours, “did you…. lose somebody… somebody important?”

There’s not really anything you can say. It’s painful to think about.

“My best friend.” you admit quietly, “I was able to save his mom but… he wasn’t so lucky.” you say, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how that mirrors gayatri and inspector singh. He can’t help but let a few more tears slip out, despite how uncomfortable it is under the mask. You run your masked fingers through his hair, knowing that always makes him feel relaxed.

“I know this is hard, but you will get through this. Okay?” you say, kissing the crown of his head.

“I don’t know what to do.” he says, and you reply with a soft “I know.”

“I need to tell my aunt, everything.” he says, and you nod.

“Don’t worry about all that right now.” you say, “just try to relax, if only for a little bit. Collect your thoughts, yknow?”

he nods, and it’s quiet again.

You guys have been dating for barely 4 months. To normal people, that is not nearly enough time to consider being in love with their partner. But you and Pavitr aren’t exactly normal people.

He takes off his mask, and you see his tear stained cheeks, and the tears that continue to flow. He slowly takes off your mask, too. You two are impossibly close, you don’t think you’ve ever been so close to pav even in all the cuddle sessions you guys have had.

You feel his breath fan your face, “I love you.” he admits with a whisper, shakily. You put your hand on his chin, lifting his head up and you kiss him.

“I love you too.” you say as you two part.

[pep-rambles]

Okay Here it is

Yup it's my stupid fluffy Valentine's day Huskerdust fic. Not my favorite thing I've written but I literally did it in a day.

As promised with 10 mins to spare. Here is the A03 link if you'd rather read it there or see the tags or whatever. https://archiveofourown.org/works/53805574

It was on the edge of midnight when Angel Dust finally made it back to the hotel. A full day of back to back clients. Sometimes causing Angel to run halfway across the city in heels and 20 minutes or less because Valentino couldn't schedule for shit. 

Valentine's day: sex workers’ black Friday. Even if you were already dead. 

All things considered, it usually wasn't the worst day aside from it being so busy, at least Angel didn't have to deal with Valentino directly. But this year, there was somewhere else he'd rather be. Someone else he'd rather be with. 

Angel pushed through the doors of the hotel. The lobby was dim, most of the lights were off as most of the residents had gone to bed by now. The light of the bar on the other end of the lobby, highlighting the handsome bartender Angel wished he could have spent his day with. 

“Heeey Husky.” Angel murmured, sliding onto a bar stool and laying his head down on one of his forearms but still glancing up lovingly at his, dare he say it, boyfriend. The two men had only been officially dating for a couple weeks now but they had been good friends for months, and Angel can't even recall how long he'd been pining for the old cat. He could hardly believe they were actually an item.

Husker took a second of Angel's hands in his, Angel helping him to lace their fingers together. “Rough day?” Husk asked, laying a soft kiss on the top of Angel's hand. A gesture that made Angel blush. 

“Eh I've had worse” the spider shrugged and sat up. “I'm fine really. Just a bit sore as always.” He reassured his partner as he checked him over for bruises. This had been part of their routine for almost as long as they had been friends, Husk had well over stocked his first aid kit since. 

“I sure missed you though.” Angel said flirtatiously before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on Husker’s forehead. 

Husk chuckled. “Somebody missed you too.” He smirked as he opened the door to the bar and a little demon pig ran out.

“Nuggs!” Angel said excitedly as he leaned down to pick up the piglet. He scooped up Fat Nuggets with his lower set of arms and began fussing him with his upper set. “Hey there Nuggies! Did ya miss me? Did ya miss me? Did ya miss your papa? I bet ya did? Were ya a good boy for Husky?” 

As Angel Dust continued to coo over his pet and pepper him with kisses, Husk looked over at the two of them with a smile. He wasn’t the least bit jealous that the pig was getting more attention than he was. He found the whole scene to be incredibly adorable and endearing. 

“So, the usual?” Husk asked Angel once he had calmed down a bit with fussing Nuggets.

“Sure thing Husky.” Angel said, running a hand through his hair. As Husk prepared his drink Angel took out his phone and checked the time. “Just two more minutes of Valentine’s Day left, glad we’re spending it together.”

Husk paused as he was pouring Angel’s drink out. “Wait, it's Valentine’s day?” He asked, looking up at his Angel in shock.

“Wait, ya didn’t realize that?” Angel asked, surprised.

“I don’t know man you know I’m not into all that sappy bullshit. How’s one supposed to keep track of time down here anyway.” The bartender waved him off.

“Oh Husky!” Angel laughed, gently setting Fat Nuggets down on the floor before leaning in to kiss the now furrowed face of his beloved. “Well happy Valentine’s anyway, kitty.” Angel said sweetly smoothing back the fur on Husker’s head. Husk grumbled at the nickname but smiled anyway.

Angel sat back down on the bar stool. The two held hands as Angel nursed his drink. Not talking much, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

A few minutes passed before Angel Dust spoke up again. “Well, it may be a the fifteenth now we can still do somethin’ together.” He smiled as he clasped all four hands around one of his partner’s own. “Wanna come over to my room?” Then added. “I mean just ta, like, cuddle and watch tv or talk or somethin’.”

Husk smiled and added his second hand to the pile of the five others. “Sure.” He said. “I could bring some snacks. Charlie and Vaggie made cookies I think.” 

“Sounds good!” Angel replied. “Give me about 30 mins or so ta shower slip into something more comfortable, ‘kay?” He gave Husk another kiss before scooping up Nuggets and heading up to his bedroom.

------

There was a knock on Angel's door just about the time he got out of the shower. 

“Be right there.” Angel called as he slipped a large t-shirt over his head. 

When he opened the door there stood Husk dressed down to just a pair of pajama pants and carrying a significant amount of food in just his two arms. Three bags of chips, a handful of cookies each individually wrapped, and a bottle of soda in each hand and the box of Angel's favorite popsicles.

“Babe!” Angel couldn't help but laugh a little. “Ya could've asked for my help.”

“I got it,” Husk grumbled.

“Sure ya do Husky.” Angel smiled as he scooped up the snacks in his four arms. And walked over to set them down at the little set up he had made for the two of them. (Well three, as Fat Nuggets would most definitely be snuggling up with them.) A pile of blankets and pillows. In the center of the pile, facing the television. was a cushion with arms that Cheri had jokingly called his “husband” which Angel sat down in front of, Husk joining him shortly after setting down the soda bottles in front of them. And leaning back.

“Soooo, ya like my husband?” Angel teased leaning into Husk. 

“YOUR WHAT?!” 

Angel laughed, running one of his arms along one of the arms of the cushion. “Ya, know because he's always holding me in his arms?” 

“Hmph” Husk smirked as he wrapped his lover up in a tight hug. Angel leaned back against Husk's shoulder raising a hand to his cheek pulling him in. 

The two men kissed softly for a few moments. Until Angel felt something bump against his lower set of arms. Looking down he saw Fat Nuggets nudging his way into his lap. Both men laughed as Angel scooped up the tiny demon pig. 

With one hand holding Nuggs, a second scratching behind his ears, a third entwined with Husk's, and a fourth grabbing a cookie from the pile of snacks. 

Angel looked at the various pink and red frosted frosted sugar cookie hearts. He smirked as he stopped fussing Nuggs for a moment to unwrap one of the red hearts. “So the ladies made these little heart cookies and ya didn't even realize it was Valentine’s day?” 

Husk grumbled, “I don't know. Like I said I can't keep track of time anymore. And all that sugary mushy shit is just Charlie on any other day.”

“Fair enough.” Angel said as he took a bite of the cookie. He reached down and grabbed the remote. He turned the TV on but kept the volume low. “So, how was your day then?”

“Pretty dull. I wondered why Charlie hadn’t planned any activities. Now I guess it makes sense.” Husk laughed.

Angel listened intently as he flipped through the channels not really paying attention there was nothing but junk at 1 am in Hell. Or at any hour in Hell. 

Angel and Husk talked and snacked well into the night.  At one point Husk gave Angel a back rub. Angel had forgotten how stiff he was until he felt the bartender’s strong fingers kneading into his skin. Slowly throughout the night Angel began to sink further and further into Husker’s lap. With Husk leaning back more against the cushion.

Angel looked up at Husk talking about some occurrence at his casino from back in his overlord days. He couldn’t help but notice how Husk looked at him with a face that said he held the stars in his heart. Angel Dust had seen dozens of Valentines Days when he was alive, and almost three times as many since he died, but he never imagined he’d actually ever have one that was worth remembering. One where he spent it with a man who didn’t care that he was without make-up and just in boxers and a ratty old t-shirt, or that he had just stuffed his face with junk food, or that there were probably crumbs of said junk food still lingering on his clothing. A man who didn’t seem to mind when Angel paid more attention to the tiny demon pig now sleeping in his lap. A man who saw Angel as someone magnificent, not just something to be used and discarded.

Angel reached a hand up to touch Husk’s cheek softly. 

“Hey… what’s up?” Husk leaned into the touch as he reached his own hand up to gently touch Angel’s.

“Nothin’” Angel replied trying to hide the tears he felt welling up behind his eyes “I’m just happy” He smiled. “Happy belated Valentine’s, Husky.”

“Yeah, uh…” Husk coughed and blushed, not used to such sappy sentiments. “Y-you too.”

“Hey Husky?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think the popsicles’ve probably melted.”

Husk looked surprised for a moment before both of them laughed and embraced each other. P.S. This is a husband:

The term husband is something my friends came up with in college and I want to try and make it a real thing.

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

okay but like,

since it's halloween, pavitr and reader, even tho as teens (and spider people), dress up in matching costumes and decides to trick-or-treat at the Spider HQ

Miguel is confused while Jessica and Peter B just go along with it

(Bonus points if Miles, Gwen, and Hobie decides to join you guys for fun)

Knock Knock, Trick or Treat!🎃✨

👻MASTERLIST🦇

And, for @rinnsworldd: "And, Halloween is coming up, so I thought of GN!reader x pav are wearing matching costumes!! (kuromi and my melody would be SO cute!!)”

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x GN!reader Summary: It was just a normal day at the Spider HQ. Undecorated, unspooky, normal day as ever. No fake blood, no edible skulls or zombie cookies -nothing; standing out amidst a very festive Nueva York. Miguel doing his Miguel things as all the Spider's spend their day in their regular spidey suit and as unfestive as possible. That was, until their spidey senses tingled. Tags: Halloween costumes, trick or treating A/N: A Halloween fic for yall. Enjoy ! <3

👽Also read on AO3🍬

It was just a normal day at the Spider HQ. Undecorated, unspooky, normal day as ever. No fake blood, no edible skulls or zombie cookies -nothing; standing out amidst a very festive Nueva York. Miguel doing his Miguel things as all the Spider's spend their day in their regular spidey suit and as unfestive as possible.

That was, until their spidey senses tingled.

A blur of black and pink shoots through the entrance, swinging and screaming as they pass through to the main hall.

"TIRCK OR TREAT, ARACHNO-FOLKS!"

Pavitr Prabhakar's voice rings loud through the establishment, the hoodie of his onesie flipping back to reveal his ever-amazing luscious raven hair. He lands and plays with his bangles, watching you do a somersault between the gaps in the lanes and land beside him.

You screech out a "HAPPY HALLOWEEN, Y'ALL!", waving your plastic jack-o-lantern candy bucket around and holding it up for treats.

The perplexed face of Miguel O'Hara, however, stops you in your tracks.

Dang. [Cue dramatic music]

"What the hell!?", he sputters, baffled at your appearance. "And what is that costume?!"

"I'm Kuromi!", Pavitr says enthusiastically, gesturing to the pink skull on his forehead and the black devil tail on his costume.

"And, I'm My Melody!" Your pink bunny ears flopping around as you begin to explain the characters excitedly.

Miguel crosses his arms over his chest, halting you short -the least bit amused. "Did I not say no parties inside the HQ? We have more important work than dressing up for a sugar high."

His menacing glare can be seen from a mile away, but you won't let that faze you. Not today.

"But, señor Miguel, it's Halloween!" Pavitr and you pout, making puppy eyes at him.

He's stubborn. "Get rid of the ridiculous costume. Now."

"No!", you say, not backing down. "We want a Halloween party! Party! Party! Party!"

Miguel grows even more annoyed when some other spideys, including Spider-ham, join in the chant. A hand lays on his shoulder.

"Let them, O'Hara, they're children", Jessica says. "A little party ain't gonna do nobody no harm. Plus, it's HAL-LO-WEEN!"

She turns around, her black and red velvet cape flying behind her, and looks up from behind the stiff collar like Dracula. She winks at you. "Looking cute, kiddos!"

"You too?- ugh!" Miguel groans and turns to you. "Costumes. Off. Now. Nobody here is going to party!"

You pout, just when your spidey senses tingle again.

"Did somebody say Party?"

Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Peter B, with May Parker on the baby carrier, wearing Halloween outfits land in a perfect line beside you guys.

"Uhh.....", drags Morales as he looks at Hobie in his usual attire, but more colourful. "You didn't dress up."

"I have. I'm anarchy."

"Yeah, very creative", Miles retorts, earning an elbow from Gwen.

"Who are you dressed up as, again?" Hobie wears a smug smile, gesturing to the imitation Spider-punk suit Miles is parading around in. The Brit leans down his ear as if to whisper a conspiracy. "I'll admit bruv, you look much more cooler, now."

Miles doesn't reply as Hobie pats his shoulder and moves past him with a smirk. This encourages the other spideys to reveal their own costumes that they've hidden under their suits.

"You planned this beforehand? Without my knowledge?!"

You guys blush sheepishly but O'Hara has moved on to a more ridiculous sight that just walked in.

"And what are you supposed to be?", he asks Peter B, eyes squinted as he judges the medieval costume he's wearing.

"I'm the Mandalorian and this is my cute, sweet little baby Yoda", he says, holding May Parker up in the air like the Lion King. She giggles, making her father coo. "May the force be with us!"

O'Hara shoots him a deadpan glare.

Miguel's brows twitch, shooting betrayed looks at the 'adults' who were supposed to supervise such naughtiness.

Jessica playfully rolls her eyes, trying to coax him. "It's okay to let a little loose  sometimes, big guy."

Miguel internally sighs but doesn't show it on his face, though everyone knows he caved in. "You party, You clean."

A loud hurray erupts in the room. Soon, you begin to make skulls, ghosts and various spooky animal shapes from your web solutions, hanging it around the place. Hobie brings a few jack-o-lanterns using his Gizmo imitation watch, Gwen brings candy and at the end of half an hour, everything is set for merriment.

Miguel shakes his head and tries to walk away but Peter B persuades him to join. "C'mon, old man! Trick or treat?"

It's the first time most spideys see Miguel genuinely smile. He has many a cool trick up his sleeve, no doubt what he used to entertain his daughter with. You watch in awe, trying out a few yourselves.

"Is that a trick I see coming my way, Kuromi?", you ask, catching Pavitr trying to sneak candy from your bucket to his.

"Oh, absolutely, My Melody!"

He starts chasing you around as you scream and run. Decors and other stuff are knocked over, but nobody cares. Even Miguel chuckles watching you get tangled in the decor webs while Pavitr takes advantage of it to steal all your candies.

Worst trick, but Best Halloween ever! _____

Hope you enjoyed it! 😉 Thank you for reading and Happy Halloween!!!! 🎃👻

[coraniaid]

(Answering @badwolfwho1's questions for this character ask game; one of four.)

Buffy

5 What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

There's a chapter of my big Buffy fanfic that is partly named after this song!

21 If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Favorite thing: having Buffy think about Kendra and be upset about Kendra’s death in post-S2 fics.  (Meeting Kendra should be such a pivotal moment in Buffy’s life! It’s both the moment she first accepts that being a Slayer is more than just “a job” and rather a fundamental part of who she is, and the first moment she gets to meet somebody else who is like her (“not the only freak”).  Kendra’s death should, equally, be utterly devasting for Buffy.  Not only did the one other girl in all the world die, but she did so because of a series of mistakes Buffy herself made and, because Buffy had to make a deal with Spike to protect Giles, she didn’t even allow herself the opportunity to avenge her!

In actual canon, however, Buffy mentions Kendra exactly once in an episode Kendra doesn’t appear in (in Becoming Part 2). Just a single line of dialogue in the first episode after Kendra’s death and never again after that (not even when she runs into the vampire who murdered Kendra). Who wouldn't want to fix that? 

Something I don’t like: people writing fic in which they pretend Buffy wasn’t ever really in love with Angel, or that she doen’t really love her mother.  Not only is the show itself very clear about this, but it is a huge part of who Buffy is as a person.  Buffy/Spike and Buffy/Faith make no sense except in the context of Buffy having once loved a vampire who lost his soul and she had to send to hell; a teenage Buffy who doesn’t care about her mother’s approval and an adult Buffy who doesn’t still miss her mother terribly are just not recognizable to me as the character we actually see on the show. You don't have to personally like Bangel as a ship or think Joyce is a good mother to appreciate this, and I think if you have Buffy say otherwise you are just projecting your own opinions about the show onto her in a fairly boring and lazy way.    

24 What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

Not really a fandom I’ve ever been active in as such (although I liked the Greg Weisman directed cartoon a lot as a kid and I’m still slightly bitter about how it was cancelled) but Spider-Man has always seemed the most obvious inspiration for Buffy as a character? I mean, Buffy’s a wisecracking, pun-loving teenage superhero (whose exact strength and powers vary as the plot demands), one who mostly fights alone and who has to hide her abilities from her family members and work a series of low-wage and low-status jobs rather than take personal advantage of her powers, largely because of her belief that having the abilities she does gives her the responsibility to protect people.

(And, while realistically it would be absurd to think nobody in history had ever thought of the joke before, I’ll admit I was slightly perturbed recently to stumble on a clip of the old animated Spider-Man series from the 1990s in which Peter Parker makes the exact same “mythtaken” pun as Buffy does in A New Man only a few years later.)

[short-black-diamond]

"You're one year too late."

This is a fic I've been thinking of after watching the latest episode of Marionetta, episode 32 this morning. For those who didn't read the Webtoon yet, here's spoilers.

Sahed x female reader, angst. Julia gets jealous, but regrets it.

Also I didn't proofread.

---

Sahed and Julia sat together in his room, which was lighted up very brightly by the lanterns. "Now, we'll just have to get to Rainah and then I'll go get ____!", Sahed said with a triumphant smile, but Julia couldn't help but notice Sahed's blush.

And it was also the first time she heard that name. ____. She grew curious.

After Sahed led Julia away from his room and sneeking away from the police/guards, they shortly after met Rainah and a bald dude with freckles who had to wear a headband. "Okay, now, we will summon ____ here and-" "Sahed, let's see if we can even get away from here.", Rainah interrupted, but Julia could hear some sort of undertone which said more.

Sahed ordered Julia to go get Tonny, and then he took something out liks a small paper, but with a spider's den and a drawn spider on it. "please...take the summon, ____...!"

Suddenly, a light blue smoke-cloud appeared, and then, a beautiful woman came to view. You. you wore a dress which accentuated your body perfectly, your makeup made your most prominent facial features glow, your hair framed your face, mayking you look like a drawn woman out of an expensive painting, and your eyes also held some sort of mystery to them.

Julia couldn't help but blush upon seeing you. You looked beautiful. But you also looked...older than her or Rainah...

And before she could say something, Sahed and Rainah crashed against you, embracing you tightly. "Gosh, how long has it been?!", Rainah whisper-yelled as she looked at your face, but she halted. "..._-____? What's wrong? We can finally stay in the circus together!", the green haired girl exclaimed excitedly, but you only offered a small smile in return. It was sad, tired, and...depressed.

Sahed held your hands in his. "____, is everything okay-", then he felt it. his eyes widened. He looked down on you, and his breath hitched.

Julia didn't know what happened, but from the way Sahed was hugging you and looking at you, she could've sworn that you two were-

...lovers.

You however, had tears streaming down your face as you slowly took a few steps back and retracted your hands from Sahed's, trying not to let your heart break even more when he chases after them with his own.

"I'm sorry...but you came one year too late, guys.", you said, holding your stomach, which had a small, but noticable bulge, with a smile that couldn't reach your eyes. "I...got into an arranged marriage. And I already have a daughter, and now, I'm pregnant again...I...I can't leave this behind, Sahed, Rainah."

Rainah covered her mouth, but she still congratulated you on giving birth and being pregnant again, albeit it came out in a hushed whisper. That's why you were like that. Julia regretted looking at you weirdly. You were Sahed's lover, and a close friend to Rainah, and you guys must've promised something to each other, which Sahed also voiced out in the next moment.

"...but- b-but how is that possible...?! I calculated every month, every day, every second, for us to meet! We've been speaking it over and over again! How could that happen?!", he said a little louder, staring at your tummy in shock. He couldn't believe that you got married, let alone were about to be a mother of not one, but two kids.

He could forget his dream of marrying you now, as somebody else did it.

Julia stared at you as well. Kamille fled from a marriage, gramps had to become a soldier in order to marry the person he loved, but you...you couldn't be together with Sahed. Not when your whole life was here. Not when you had your family sleeping soundly. Not when your life got planned ahead, and you not being able to have a say in it, ever.

"Sahed, it's okay. I'm just glad that we got to meet again. Now, I'll help you with the other Ah'kons-", you said with a determined face, but Sahed fell into your word. "You're not going anywhere, ____! Go home, I don't want you to get caught together with us!"

You frowned at him. "And why should that bother me?" Sahed only glared at you. "Well, since you decided to get married-"

"I didn't get to decide anything, Sahed.", you seethed, the happy-meet-again atmosphere gone in an instant. "Now, get back to the circus, I'll put one of my spells on you to make you leave along with the other Ah'kons."

Sahed only stood there, looking at you with pain in his three eyes.

"Are you...happy in that marriage?", he asked softly, not daring to touch you, even though he'd just want to heave you on his shoulder and take you with him. He thought that he could just raise your kids as his own, but when he looked from your stomach up to your face again, also that plan shattered.

"No. Now go, please.", you pleaded, and Sahed's eyes started to leave trails of heartbroken tears out.

Sahed looked at you hesitantly for a last time, but took Julia's and Rainah's and, Jathar following- no, being pulled by Rainah and they ran away. you looked after them with longing, sadness, and loneliness.

If only you could come with them..

you turned around, about to make your biggest magic spell ever:

Make the circus and the people in it dissappear into thin air.

It cost you your saddest tears, but luckily, you could cry freely, now that you let your dearest friend and lover go.

Again.

[calciseptinefic]

then out of nowhere, somebody comes and hits you with an ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh

Marvel || Wade Wilson/Peter Parker || Part 12 notes: Title from 'Mad Sounds' by Arctic Monkeys. Many thanks to babygato for her beta on this chapter. this fic is also available on ao3 warnings: none

.

← previous: Part 11

.

Wade’s head is a mess as Peter tells the story of him and the other Wade.

It begins the way Wade already knows it does: Peter was fifteen when he was bitten by a radioactive spider and got his unique powers. It was a thrill, at first; he was strong when he had once been weak, and the possibilities of being someone more than poor, puny Peter Parker went to his head. Doing good for nothing more than the sake of helping others did not cross his mind until his inaction led to the death of his uncle.

"I was angry," Peter tells them softly. "One of the people I loved the most in the world was suddenly gone and the man who did it was still... out there. Sure, I stopped purse snatchers and returned stolen bicycles and got the occasional cat out of a tree, but I was definitely looking for that man. Looking for trouble. And I found both, eventually."

Wade tries to listen. Tries to pay attention and tries to follow along. Tries to imagine Peter younger and smaller, shaking with guilt and rage as he confronted the man who murdered his uncle, tries to empathize with how easy it would be to kill—not just because Peter had the proportional strength and agility of a spider, but because killing was easy when revenge felt like justice.

"I didn't know the guy was involved in bigger things, and I got in over my head," Peter explains. "Sixteen and already on Kingpin's radar. They put a hit out on me and... well..."

Peter is telling Wade this story for a reason. To apologize, maybe, or to explain why he kept the truth from Wade. He sits on the edge of the couch cushion, folded hands tucked between his knees, and tells them that, in his universe, Wade Wilson is a mercenary infamously known as Deadpool. He was contracted by the mob to bring Spiderman to them, dead or alive, and when he accepted the job, he didn't know that Spiderman was a teenager. He knew, several hours after, because Peter didn't realize that the low level buzzing in his brain was a warning that someone was following him; he just went home, tired from a long day of classes and patrol, and collapsed onto his bed while Deadpool watched him from the opposite rooftop.

But this story doesn’t make Wade feel any better or any less lied to.

In fact, it might be making him feel worse.

"I hated him, at first," Peter says, smiling sweetly down at his ring. "I thought he was crude and obnoxious and a little holier-than-thou than warranted, given that he was a mercenary for hire. But under that he was funny and sincere and always tried his best. Life had dealt him one of the shittiest hands it could and yet there he was, protecting a stupid teenager from the mob, buying me tacos and keeping me safe despite the danger it put him in."

"A big marshmallow," rePete says, turning his gaze to Wade.

"Don't look at me," Wade says, shaking his head. "I’m not him."

"Yeah, sure." Peter rolls his eyes. "That's why you immediately let me sleep on your couch. Fed me. Sheltered me. That's why you let me drag you all over New York even though you didn't believe me."

Surprised, Wade says, "You knew?"

"What, that you didn't believe me?" Peter snorts. "Come on, Wade. I've known you for ten years. I know what you look like when you're analyzing a situation from every angle—"

Ten years.

Ten years.

For Wade, it's the last straw. For the past two days, he's been hyper-vigilant: trying to keep Peter safe while constantly running into wall after wall after wall; trying to ignore a surge of inappropriate feelings every time Peter smiled at him; trying to wrap his brain around the reality of alternate universes and super powers and magic. All he’s been doing is trying and he’s exhausted to learn that most of it was for nothing. The sudden loss of that stress leaves a vacuum behind, an emptiness that's easily filled by his confused and aimless anger. He interrupts Peter with a snarl, slamming a fist down on the coffee table with a loud bang.

"But you don't," Wade snaps viciously. "You don't know me. You can't know me. You just—you broke into my apartment, and I tried to shoot you, for fuck's sake, and you decided, 'Oh, this man is my husband in my universe, so that's alright'?" Wade's voice has steadily risen to a shout, and his throat tight with the force of it, face hot. "You made all these blind assumptions about who you thought I was, Pete! Do you even know how fucking stupid that is? I could have killed you!"

Wade knows he looks terrifying—teeth bared in frustration, scar stark against his skin, shoulders rounded for a fight—but neither Peter seems to be scared. They're just staring at him with their big doe eyes, mouths pinched into identical frowns, clearly upset but not at him.

For him.

"Fuck you both," Wade snarls, getting to his feet. It's hard beneath the weight of their combined stare, but he needs to get away. Not out of the apartment but just—away. Mindlessly, Wade snatches the dirty plates and utensils off the coffee table before storming into the kitchen; he dumps everything into the sink, cranks on the hot water and squeezes out some dish soap. There's no real division between Wade and the Peters except for the kitchen island, but having his back turned to them is enough.

You're a good man, Wade Wilson, Peter had said. In every universe.

A big marshmallow on the inside, rePete had said.

You make it very hard to love you, Vanessa had cried.

Wade waits until the sink is full to turn off the tap, suds threatening to spill over the sides. When he dips his hands in, the water is scalding; he hisses at the prickling sensation, but doesn't pull out. The key is acclimation. Soon, his body will adjust, and he'll forget that it's supposed to hurt.

The apartment is quiet as Wade starts on the veritable mountain of dishes that has been building up for the past two days. He grabs the green scouring pad and begins to scrub, and scrub, and scrub at crusted-on food and coffee stains. Having something to do with his hands helps—he’s always been a doer—but as his fury seeps from him, he begins to feel the soreness of resentment and exhaustion.

Peter comes over when most of Wade's anger has faded. He pulls a clean towel out of a nearby drawer and silently starts to take the washed dishes from Wade, drying them and putting them away. There is no hesitation as he does so; maybe he and the other Wade—Peter's husband—keep them in the same places.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wade asks as the dishes dwindle steadily down. He’s calm enough now to ask the question that sits at the root of his sudden rage, but it still leaves his mouth like an accusation. "That you're married to... other me."

Peter finishes wiping down the stainless steel pan in his hands. Puts it back. Waits for Wade to give him another dish to dry and huffs when Wade purposefully keeps his hands submerged in the water.

"A few reasons," Peter admits begrudgingly. "At first, it was because I didn't want you to treat me differently or feel obligated to help me. You were already being so nice to me—flirting with me—and I didn't want to come out and say, hey! Guess what! You're my husband in my universe!" Peter sighs. "You were already giving me so much that it felt... selfish, to want more."

"You totally could have," Wade tells Peter, handing him a wet plate. "I was already invested."

"But that's why I couldn't, you know?" Peter wipes the plate more thoroughly than necessary before putting it in the cabinet. "You had already decided to help me and I know that when you decide to do something, you give maximum effort. Not telling you was also a way to remind myself that you aren't my husband, because you two are honestly so similar. I'm sorry I flirted with you constantly, but—"

"Wait, what?" Wade frowns, turning his attention away from the other plate in his hands to Peter. "You were flirting with me?"

"Since I got here," Peter drawls. "Thanks for noticing."

From the couch, rePete stifles a snort of highly amused laughter.

"Huh," Wade says. "I thought you were just comfortable with me."

"I am comfortable with you," Peter says, "because I've been married to my Wade for five years and—before that—we dated on and off since I graduated high school. And I know you don't want to hear it, but you're really not that different. Not in the ways that matter."

Wade gives Peter the last plate, letting him dry it and put it away, before saying, "I'm sorry I shouted." Staring down into the sink, Wade watches the suds break slowly on the surface of the water. "It's been a long two days."

"Tell me about it," Peter commiserates, bumping his hip gently against Wade's. It's a mirror of the movement rePete did earlier, and any hard feelings Wade might have still harbored for being compared to his other self vanishes. He can't fault Peter for drawing parallels when he does the same thing for Peter and rePete. Wade knows and appreciates that they're individual beings with unique experiences, but it's impossible not to acknowledge their similarities.

Argument settled, Wade and Peter fall into a comfortable silence as they finish the dishes. Or—that's what would have happened, if Peter's head didn't snap up, suddenly and brutally alert. Wade puts the mug he was holding out back into the sink.

"Pete?"

"Do you feel that?" Peter asks stiffly. He steps away from the sink and turns in a slow circle, eyes darting to every corner of Wade's apartment. "My spidey-sense is going crazy, but I can't pinpoint where it's coming from."

Wade doesn't feel anything. He briefly closes his eyes to try and use his own intuition to feel what Peter's feeling. Nothing. He opens his eyes, and is about to tell Peter as much, when a huge wave of not-right washes over him. It makes every hair on his body stand up, gooseflesh breaking out on his arms and the back of his neck.

"Baldy?" Wade gasps.

"No," Peter answers, still looking around frantically. "Still in the tub."

"Then what—"

A roar just beyond the edge of audibility forms from no direction. It is more sensation than sound, a mute noise that makes Wade think of damp construction paper being slowly torn down the middle, but infinitely magnified. It doesn't hurt—not in the way pain hurts—but the nerves in Wade's body are misfiring as something grows larger and larger between the atoms in the air.

"Umm, guys?" rePete all but yelps, clambering off the couch. He points a shaking finger at a thin shimmer sliced into an empty space by the wall. "What the hell is that?"

Both Peter and Wade dash into the living room. Hands still damp from washing dishes, Wade reaches under the couch to yank out the glock and spare magazine he has strapped to the underside of the frame; he slaps the magazine in place and unlocks the safety, lining the sight up with the steadily growing disturbance in his living room. The bigger it gets, the more unignorable that sensation of not-right becomes, a nauseating drone that settles into the hollows of Wade’s teeth and bones.

"Stay behind me," Wade barks at rePete, who is already behind him, fingers clutched in the fabric of Wade's sweater.

"Don't have to tell me twice," rePete says.

Next to Wade, Peter has shifted into a ready stance, his attention focused solely on the strange phenomenon occurring before them. The vague shimmer distorting the air becomes a roil and begins to spark. The small specks of light flare brightly, briefly, before breaking away harmlessly and disappearing. They are like the ones produced when Baldy used his magic, though these are warm gold instead of sickly green.

"Another spell?" Wade asks.

"Yeah," Peter answers. He’s still crouched, ready to attack or defend, yet the tightness in his shoulders have loosened. "But—Wade—I think these are—"

The shimmering cut in the air explodes without sound or heat, cutting Peter off. RePete yelps, moving completely behind Wade, as the golden sparks multiply to a near blinding shine. They whirl madly in a wide circle and—within it—there is an alleyway, empty and dim.

For a moment, nothing.

Then—

A tall, broad man steps through. His huge boots make no sound as they touch the floor. He's dressed in red and black leathers from head to toe, wearing a full cowl mask and a tactical belt; he’s armed to the teeth, carrying enough weaponry to take out a small squadron, including small knives and explosives and a pair of katanas. He also has a huge gun in each hand, the metal gleaming, and he radiates so much wrath and ill-intent that Wade's finger twitches on the trigger of his pistol. In Wade's experience, situations like these end better if he shoots first. Wade might have gone through with it too if—at the same time the man stepped through the glowing circle—Peter didn't step between them, arms flung out wide, and shout,

"Wade! Not an enemy!"

In tandem, Wade and the masked man who stepped through the portal point their guns at the floor.

What the fuck? Wade thinks at the same time the man in red-and-black asks, "Pete? Are you—"

"I'm okay," Peter answers quickly. His voice is high and thin, like it was last night, before he began to cry. "Wade, I'm—"

Wade watches as the other man holsters both guns and opens his arms. Peter lets out a single, choked sob—his only hesitation—then launches himself across the living room, over the coffee table, and into the man's arms. The man doesn't even stagger as Peter’s full weight hits him. He just holds Peter easily, wrapping his bulky arms around Peter's torso and tucking his face into the crook of Peter's neck. For a moment, they just hold each other tightly, relief evident in every line of their bodies.

Shock replaces every single one of Wade's thoughts. He knows that he's missing something—something important—but the past hour has left him emotionally exhausted. That fatigue combined with the sight of Peter clinging to some weirdo who just came through a magic portal is currently putting a serious strain on his mental processing power.

"God, baby boy, I'm so glad we found you," the man says, his low and raspy voice sounding as though his vocal chords went through a rock tumbler. One of his big, gloved hands runs up and down the length of Peter's exposed spine. "I fucking missed you."

"I missed you more," Peter burbles back, voice thick with unshed tears.

"I missed you mostest—"

"Break it up," interjects a third, new voice.

Wade automatically swings his glock back up and points it at the second person coming through the portal. This man is handsome, in an evil magician sort of way, with a pointed goatee and flashes of pure white at his temples. He's wearing dark blue robes of extremely ambiguous ethnicity and a crimson cloak. The long length of the cloak flutters gently in a non-existent wind while the man literally floats further into Wade's apartment, his feet hovering several inches off the floor.

"Strange," Peter greets. He lifts his head from the shoulder of the man holding him to do so, but otherwise stays put. "Good to see you too."

Strange. Wade's tired brain restarts with a twitch. Stephen Strange.

The Sorcerer Supreme from another universe.

Levitating in Wade's apartment in Queens.

"Holy shit," Wade says, lowering his gun. Every bizarre thing that happened within the last ninety seconds shifts into a frame of perfect understanding. His stare swings away from Strange's face—seriously, that perfectly arched eyebrow is a paid actor—to Peter and the man holding him. To his alternate self. Who... winks at him.

"Hey there, handsome," Deadpool croons. "First time?"

"Wade," Peter warns, finally untangling his limbs from his husband's body. "Be nice."

"I was being nice," Deadpool mumbles as he lets go of Peter just enough so Peter can slide to the floor. They're still pressed together, bodies a line from chest to thigh, Peter's curls brushing Deadpool's chin. "I was being complimentary, even! That hair: swoon-worthy! Those eyebrows: smoldering! Clear skin highlighted by a dashing, debonair scar—"

Peter elbows Deadpool in the ribs. Hard. Wade winces in sympathy—Peter's elbows are dangerous, and he has the bruises to prove it.

"As charming as this all is," Strange interrupts, raising his voice as he floats further into Wade's living room, "this portal will not hold indefinitely. We are here to bring Peter back to his universe. The sooner he returns, the more likely we will be able to prevent the untold tragedy of an Incursion, a world-ending cataclysm that will end the lives of trillions—"

"Christ," Wade mutters, resisting the urge to scrub at his tired eyes. "He talks Shakespeare worse than Baldy."

Behind Wade, rePete adds dryly, "It must be part of the core curriculum at wizard school."

RePete is still largely hidden behind Wade, but he's gotten to his tip-toes to peer over Wade's shoulder at the scene unfolding before them; he has both hands on Wade's back, using Wade as a balance. When Wade giggles at his commentary, Deadpool's head snaps back towards them, spotting rePete for the first time.

"Oh. Em. Gee." The white eyes of Deadpool's mask widen and he covers his mouth with one hand dramatically. "Is that... Petey-Pie, take two?"

"That's offensive," rePete says. "How do you know I'm not the original?"

The noise Deadpool releases is caught between what a human throat is capable of and the shriek of a deflating balloon. His head swings from Peter—who is pinching the bridge of his nose—and rePete, who takes a tentative half-step forward and waves.

"I'm pretty sure I've died again," Deadpool says in disbelief, one hand clutching at his suit over his heart. "Not one but two baby boys? Both of them sassy and sexy? There's no way I'm sneaking past the pearly gates to get into that kind of heaven, so maybe I'm hallucinating again?"

"Alternate universe, Wade," Peter reminds his husband gently.

"Right." Deadpool straightens, one arm still slung around Peter's shoulders. The wide and charming grin he dons is the same one Wade uses when he wants to fight or fuck. Wade doesn't know what's more disturbing: the fact that he and Deadpool share mannerisms or that Deadpool can emote clearly through his mask. "This might be a little off the cuff, but… You guys come here often?"

What, Wade thinks as rePete chirps, "Nah, first time," and Peter simultaneously hisses, "Wade, no—"

"I did not open an interdimensional portal for you to proposition your alternate selves," the Sorcerer Supreme says icily. He floats further into the living room and holds out his arms, palms upturned and spitting more golden sparks in a display of power. It would be impressive if his shin didn't accidentally bump the corner of Wade's coffee table. "Ahh—goddamnit—"

Wade and Deadpool burst into identical giggles. Strange drops to the floor and glares at them, attempting to straighten his still fluttering cloak. The cloak must have a mind of its own because it continues to roll in gentle waves despite Strange's tugging.

"Come on, funky magic man," Deadpool wheedles. "An orgy of this caliber is like, a once in a lifetime opportunity! Or—wait. I dimension hopped in December and met my zombie counterpart, so I guess it's more like a once in a yearly occurrence?" Deadpool shrugs. "Didn't fuck, though. That guy was even uglier than I am, sheesh."

"Be that as it may," Strange interjects, raising his voice above Deadpool's continued muttering. "We have come to retrieve you, Peter, before your presence in this universe causes permanent damage. The sooner we return, the smaller the ripple effects will be."

"What about the guy in my bathtub? I don't know how much longer he's gonna remain unconscious and I really don't know how to handle non-metaphorical Death Eaters." Wade asks, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "He's from your universe too, isn't he? Don't you need to take him?"

"Bathtub?" Strange repeats, as though that was the weirdest detail in Wade's sentence and not the 'from your universe' bit.

"Yeeeeah," Wade says slowly. "Do you not have bathtubs in your universe?"

Strange opens his mouth to answer. He's clearly frustrated—Wade can see it in the downward angle of his eyebrows and the tightness of his mouth—but he does not let Wade goad him further. He simply stops himself and takes a deep, calming breath, and says faux serenely, "We have bathtubs."

Next to Wade, rePete does a very bad job at turning his laugh into a cough.

"We had to incapacitate him, earlier," Peter explains to Strange. "He attacked Peter, thinking he was you in disguise, and after we knocked him out, we brought him here. His magic is kinda like yours, but green. And not nearly as strong."

"Perversions of the natural forces used by magic manifest as different colors." Strange looks past Wade and rePete to the bathroom, the door partially ajar. "Purple and red are the most common, derived respectively from the teachings of the Dormammu or Cththon. Green is indicative of the Order of the Forsaken Ones, who were cast out by the first Sorcerer Supreme, Agamotto, for their heresy." He pauses for dramatic effect, though the gravity of his words is ruined by his still moving cape, the red cloth jerking around like the tail of a dying fish. "It is… lucky, then, that you fell into this universe."

Peter tilts his head to the side and asks, "Considering?"

"This world, Earth-82467, is not devoid of magic. No world is. But it is hidden here, buried deep and far, and incredibly hard to access. In our universe, a member of the Forsaken Ones would be a formidable opponent. Here, they would only be able to access a fraction of their usual power." Strange looks down at his hands; Wade can see that the fingers are scarred and trembling. "Yet since I am bound by different laws than the Forsaken Ones, it is possible that—in this reality—I would have been unable to defeat them."

"So you're saying that my precious Petey Pie saved your ass," Deadpool sing-songs.

"By accident and happenstance, yes," Strange snaps. Then, to Peter, he dips his head in acknowledgement. "But I am not ungrateful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Peter returns.

Clearly done with the awkwardness of gratitude, Strange crosses the living room threshold, passes Wade and rePete, and enters the bathroom. With his back turned, it's difficult to see what he is doing, but the large, expanding motions of his arms are reminiscent of the way Baldy spellcast. Warm light fills the small space—a literal sparkle of magic—and the webbed-up body of the Forsaken One rises out of the tub. When Strange exits the bathroom and heads back towards the portal, the body bobs along behind him; both Wade and rePete take a step back from it, perturbed.

"Strange," Peter says.

The Sorcerer Supreme pauses at the threshold of the portal, cocking an eyebrow.

"Can we have five minutes?" asks Peter. When Strange hesitates, Peter adds, "I'll keep it PG. Promise."

Strange's gaze flickers from Peter's face to Deadpool. Deadpool kicks up a foot and flattens a hand under his chin; add in a halo and a set of baby angel wings, and he'd be the leather-wearing, katana-wielding picture of innocence. It isn't fooling anyone.

"Five minutes," Strange concedes. "And if you are not back in our dimension by that time—"

"I thought we were keeping it PG?" says Deadpool. "I mean, the fic rating is M for Mature Audiences, so it could have adult content. [ Proceed ] or [ Go Back ]? Myself, I'm always logged in on multiple devices—"

"I will never understand you," Strange hisses. Then—with a dramatic whirl hindered by asynchronous twitching of his cloak—the Sorcerer Supreme and the unconscious form of the Forsaken Dipshit cross the portal back into their original dimension.

"We bonded," Deadpool says into the silence.

RePete barks a laugh. "Does bonding mean something different in your universe or…"

"No, it definitely means the same thing," Peter says. "It just means something else to Wade."

"I've been thrown out a window three times in the past twenty-four hours," Deadpool tells them cheerfully. "One time, the window was actually open first!"

Wade legitimately does not know if Deadpool is joking or not. He himself has been defenestrated a half dozen times, and none of them have been fun overtures of friendship. Wade considers asking, but before he can even open his mouth, Peter reaches up towards his husband's masked cheek and gently says, "Wade."

Deadpool tilts his head downwards.

"We don't have a lot of time," Peter says. "And I want to talk to Wade before we have to go."

"Leaving me for the better looking version, baby boy?" Deadpool teases. "I thought you liked the forgotten slice of salami that is my face."

"Forever my favorite kind of meat," Peter grins. Then, more seriously, "Without commentary, please. It's important."

"Ugh, fine," Deadpool whines. "The things I do for that ass."

Peter rises onto his tiptoes and presses a kiss against Deadpool's mouth. It's a small gesture, but it speaks to the years they've been together; it's the kind of kiss that can only be given after it has been given a thousand times. It should make Wade jealous, as the other things concerning Peter and his spouse have made him jealous, yet it does not. Seeing this kiss only makes Wade ache.

Falling back to his heels, Peter and Deadpool separate for the first time since the portal opened. Peter's hand skims down Deadpool's arm, a reassurance, before he turns around and walks towards Wade. Over the top of Peter's head, Wade makes eye contact with Deadpool; Deadpool smiles and gives Wade a thumbs up. He's startlingly blasé about the fact that he's interacting with an alternate version of himself, though Wade supposes that, after a while, one gets used to the weirdness.

"Kitchen?" Peter suggests.

It's as good a place as any, and Wade follows Peter back to where they had been minutes before. The sink is still filled with water, though most of the suds have dissolved, leaving behind a murky sheen. In the living room, Deadpool has approached rePete; whatever conversation they're having is no more than a low, undecipherable murmur.

"So." Wade rubs the back of his neck, unable to look at Peter directly for fear of what his face will give away. "I guess this is goodbye—"

Peter makes the same high, choked noise he made when Deadpool came through the portal, and flings his arms around Wade's shoulders, face tucked into Wade's throat. Wade immediately wraps his arms around Peter's waist, closes his eyes and dips his own head down, hiding himself in Peter's embrace. Wade hasn't been hugged like this in years. Not since Vanessa. He feels a small part of him break as he hugs back, uncaring that he's holding Peter too tight.

"I'm so glad you broke into my apartment," Wade tells him, voice low. He can feel the hot threat of tears building behind his eyes. "Pete—"

"I know, Wade," Peter whispers. "I know."

For a minute, they say nothing. They just stand there and hold each other. Wade—who has a reputation for being a chatterbox even in the most dire of situations—finds himself unable to speak. He wants to tell Peter everything he feels roiling in his chest, but articulating those feelings into the right words is impossible. It shouldn't be. Wade's only known Peter for two days. Two long, odd days in which he's done things he's never done before: he's shot at a shadow; made a spider-themed superhero some pancakes; attempted to read several scientific papers about space-time; tried to track down the most powerful sorcerer in the universe; participated in a fight with a wizard from another dimension; met an alternate version of himself; and found himself here, back in his apartment where it all started, saying good-bye to the man who changed his life.

"I'm never gonna see you again, am I?" Wade croaks.

"Probably not," Peter says. His voice is as gentle as Wade has ever heard it, but each syllable still feels like a blow. Wade knew, conceptually at least, that he would have to eventually say goodbye to Peter; he just didn't think it would be so soon, and the sense of sudden loss swells in his chest.

"It's just…" Wade swallows. "You made me feel… less alone."

Peter inhales shakily. Loosens his arms. Falls back just far enough so he can reach up with both hands and cradle Wade's jaw. His thumbs are under Wade's still closed eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape. The tenderness of his touch is a contrast to the crushing weight of Wade's loneliness; Peter's presence had kept the worst of it away and, for the first time in years, Wade had been unburdened and happy, if not carefree. To go back to the way things were even forty-eight hours ago feels cruel.

"Wade," Peter says, smudging more of Wade's tears from his cheeks. "Baby, please. Look at me."

Helpless to do anything but obey, Wade opens his eyes. Peter's own eyes are glassy and his mouth trembles as he attempts a watery smile.

"I'm so happy I got to meet you," Peter tells him. "Both again, and for the first time. But we both know that I don't belong here. This isn't my universe, and I need to go home."

"I know." Wade's hands briefly tighten around Peter's waist in contradiction. "I just… wish we had more time. I'm not ready to be alone again."

"You won't be." Peter's hands slide further back, fingers overlapping on the nap of Wade's neck, and give a reassuring squeeze. "I don't know if you noticed, but this universe's version of me is standing in your living room, flirting with my husband, who is another version of you. And maybe it's corny of me, but I like to think that in every universe that has a me and a you, we're… together."

"That is corny," Wade admits. "But I like to think that too."

Peter smiles again, and it's more solid than the last one. He says, "It will be okay," and slowly releases Wade. A wild thought tears through Wade's brain—what if he grabbed Peter and just never let go—but he knows Peter's right. No matter how much Wade wants him to stay, Peter needs to return to his universe. Wade's hands slide from Peter's body and fall limp to his sides.

"Five minutes, Peter," Deadpool says, raising his voice slightly.

"Alright," Peter answers. He touches Wade's cheek one more time—the side of his face that's marred by his scar—then heads back to the living room. Wade follows as though he's being tugged along by an invisible string. He watches unblinkingly as Peter gathers the folded remnants of his Spiderman costume from underneath the coffee table, bundling the red and blue spandex beneath one arm, then goes to stand by his husband. The portal shines golden around them, illuminating their bodies in warmth.

"Got everything?" Deadpool asks, holding out a gloved hand.

"Yeah." Peter slips his hand into Deadpool's. "Let's go home."

Both of them look back as they go through the portal. Deadpool gives a wink and a jaunty salute—the same thing Wade would have done, if their roles were switched—while Peter gives a small wave. He says, "Thank you for everything, Wade," and then—

.

And then they're gone.

.

The portal fades without fanfare. The circle shrinks, cutting off the bridge between their dimensions, and the golden sparks of magic fade to nonexistence. All that remains is Wade's familiar apartment and the two people who stayed.

For a long moment, Wade stares at the negative space where the portal had been. His glimpse into the world beyond and the lives it contained feels like a metaphor. It probably is a metaphor—something about love, something about chance, something about possibility, blah blah blah—but Wade doesn't want to think about it right now. Right now, it still hurts. Hurts not because he lost it, but because it happened. It's a clean hurt, though, the kind Wade knows he'll get over once enough time has passed; the kind of hurt that will be eventually forgotten, and replaced by fondness and nostalgia.

"So," rePete says gently, walking over to Wade.

Burying his hurt for later, Wade scrubs the last of the damp from his face and turns to look at rePete. No, that's not fair. Wade turns to look at this universe's Peter Benjamin Parker. Peter, who doesn't trust Wade like other Peter did. Peter, who doesn't know Wade like other Peter did. Peter, who likes Wade enough to flirt with him, but remains both a stranger and a potential future.

"So," Wade echoes.

They stare at one another silently. Assessing. Acknowledging. Wade's seen how in love Other-Wade and other-Peter are, and he can admit that he wants that. He wants it so badly he can feel it like a knife that's been left in him for too long, deep and aching and bleeding sluggishly. But as much as he wants to be known—like he is, in another universe, by another Peter—Wade is completely, soul-shakingly terrified. He's been alone for years. Not just in the three years since he and Vanessa broke up, but in the years before that:

As a dishonorably discharged fuck-up taking odd jobs to meet ends.

As a soldier who learned a million ways to kill someone but couldn't form a single genuine emotional connection.

As a snotty teen who broke rules and had his bones broken.

As a scared kid who missed his mom.

Wade wants to be somebody to someone. And he knows he might have that with the Peter in front of him, if he can take this small leap of faith, if he can put in the work, if he can allow himself to be vulnerable enough to be known. It's not like it was with the other Peter—who already trusted him, knew him—but if it means having something like that? If it means not being alone?

Wade can be brave.

"Okay, elephant in the room," Wade says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. His eyes slide from Peter's face to the coffee table, still a little off-kilter from where Strange had slammed his shin into the corner. "But our alternate universe selves are like, super in love and happily married, and frankly, I'm jealous of those assholes. And I'm not saying that we're obligated to... follow in their footsteps, because I know that I'm not exactly like that Wade Wilson and that you're not exactly like that Peter Parker, but honestly? Cards on the table?" Wade gives a small, choked laugh. "You're overwhelmingly the kind of guy I go for—in multiple universes, it seems—and I would absolutely kick myself if I didn't at least try to get your number."

"Are you... asking me out on a date?" Peter asks, his tone vaguely unsure.

"Uh, badly, but yes." Wade takes a deep breath. Squares his shoulders. Looks up at Peter, with his big doe eyes and his freckles and his thick brown curls, and says, "I, Wade Wilson of Earth-867-5309 or whatever the fuck that wizard man said, am formally asking you, Peter Parker, out for an awkward dinner of greasy wings and cheap beer, whichever night you are available."

Peter bites his bottom lip and tilts his head to the side, and asks, "Whichever night?"

He still sounds unsure. Wade tries very hard not to deflate and jokes, "Too desperate?"

"Well, it's only..." Peter checks his watch. "Four in the afternoon, and we did just eat, but I could really go for that beer. This afternoon has been an absolute clusterfuck, and I don't want to process it until I'm alone in my shower."

"Gonna have a little existential crisis?"

"Medium sized one, probably." Peter drags a hand through his hair before grinning at Wade. There's a mischievous twist to it that makes Wade go weak at the knees. "Anyway, there's a pub near my place that does three-dollar domestic pitchers until six. Unless… you want to wait?"

"Fuck that," Wade replies. "Let's go get crunk on cheap beer and make awkward small talk. Talk about the weather. Talk about our exes. Religion, politics—literally anything but the multiverse, please."

"Agreed. The multiverse is definitely third date material."

Third date. Just the suggestion of it makes Wade smile so wide that his scar hurts. It makes him think that Peter wants this as much as he does, that Peter saw the same thing Wade saw when their counterparts came together. It won't be easy—no strong relationship is built without testing its foundations—but it will be worth it. Wade and Peter have seen that.

"Oh, and Wade?" Peter says. "One more thing before we go."

"What is it?" Wade asks, raising an eyebrow. "It's too late for take-backsies, you know."

"Not a take-backsie," Peter assures.

"Okay then." Wade spreads out his arms wide, as though daring Peter to give it his best shot. "Lay it on me, Parker."

Peter grins. Takes a step forward. Both of his hands slide around Wade's neck, pulling him down, and then Peter is kissing him, firm and sure. Surprise keeps Wade still for less than a second—but surprise cannot hold against the rush of happiness and giddy delight that quickly follows. Wade tilts his head to deepen the kiss and his fingers come up to clutch at Peter's denim clad hips; he can hear the way Peter's breath hitches, feel the way Peter smiles against his mouth. It's their first kiss but, somehow, it's like they've done it before. Like the kiss is an infinite constant within infinite possibilities.

And as they fall further into one another—standing together in the apartment where it all began, and then continued—Wade decides he can live with those odds.

.

end.

.

[ziracona]

[[On a Superhero short fic kick. I was incorrectly spoiled on events for the PS4 Spider-Man, but the ideas never left my head, so have some non-canon-compliant Harry. This is about a year after the game. Same setup, only instead of Venom experimentation, Norman used a form of the Goblin serum to try and cure Harry. Didn’t go great. Has been trying to improve on and fix ever since. While Norman was out of the country to clear up Devil’s Breath Geneva convention violation allegations, Oscorp kept getting attacked and desperate, and for multiple very bad motivations and without Norman’s knowledge, permission, or approval, woke up and set Harry loose to destroy some evidence and buy time, since doped up on serum he’s essentially a heat seeking missile. Pete as Spider-Man stopped him, but not before Oscorp got what they wanted out of the stunt. Peter is now dealing with the fallout and trying to process what happened to his friend.]]

-

-

“Peter?”

“Uh—yeah, sorry. Hang on a second.”

Doing his best to mentally run through the half of the security system he’d memorized at light speed, Peter Parker slid back out of the vent he’d been in and launched himself up two stories in the elevator shaft, landing precariously in a far corner away from the pressure sensors on the lab side.

“Okay. Good now. Hi, MJ.”

“You okay? I mean, that’s what I called to ask about,” came her somewhere-between-worried-and-suspicious voice, “but I mean, right now? You’re not taking a call in the middle of a fight again, right?”

“No, no,” said Peter hurriedly, trying to wedge himself into a more comfortable position as an elevator passed.

“Is that construction?”

“No, it’s an elevator,” he replied, “I’m fine, really. Just trying to stay out of sight and overhearing-range while on the phone.”

“Okay,” said Mary Jane, not entirely convinced but convinced enough to drop it, “Look uh. I guess that doesn’t matter. Not like I could stop you anyway. I just wanted to know how you’re doing?”

…Ah. Right…

“With…Harry…”

Yeah. He swallowed. Okay come on. Now is the time to say something, Peter. This has been like 10 seconds of silence so far and it can get worse.

“Uh.”

“Look. I-I don’t mean to pry, and if you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine, of course. I just… I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it, and I know I’m upset, and I just thought. With you…”

Funny. He almost never heard MJ rattled. It was actually reassuring to him. Good to know somebody else felt it too. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he shifted again in the little corner, taking some weight off his back by wedging his knees against a post.

“I uh. I’m not doing great,” he answered truthfully. She was quiet on the other end. “I just…I can’t understand what happened.”

Peter wished he was outside. He wished he could pace and swing around while talking, work some of the energy out, but that would mean re-dodging about eight layers of Oscorp security, and he’d really come too far to go back now, so this was it. Wedged into a tiny corner of an elevator shaft about two feet from a pressure sensor that would put the whole building on lockdown if his foot slipped.

Good thing my feet are sticky, he thought, trying to rouse his spirit, and then with a grimace, Great. Even my quips are suffering…

“I’ve gone through everything I know about eighteen times in my head,” he continued, thinking it over a nineteenth as he did, “And it just…it wasn’t him, MJ. I-I mean, it was—I saw his face. But before? When we were fighting? It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Harry. I don’t…”

For a moment, there was quiet.

“…I’m so sorry. First Otto, now Harry. I can’t even imagine. This has been a terrible couple of years for you.”

“I—“ He hesitated, remembering. Running images of Otto through his head, images of the fight just yesterday, with Harry. “It…that’s not what. I mean…” he tried slowly, worried somehow about her reaction to this. “I mean it really… Wasn’t him. Not like Martin Li, not like Otto. Not like a change. It was like he was…possessed. He didn’t say anything the whole time. And his eyes…”

How to even explain it though?

He thought… if. If it had been like Otto, he would have known. A part of him would have unconsciously recognized Harry’s movements, his voice, something. But no part of him at all had been anything but shocked when the person he was pummeling had finally stopped hitting back and gone still in the wreckage of an automobile plant, and he’d torn the mask off to see…

Honestly, his first thought had been that it was Chameleon somehow. His second Mysterio, and he was hallucinating. He’d wondered if he was crazy before his brain had pitched him the suggestion that it might actually be Harry Osborn in the battered body armor beneath him.

And God, he’d been so terrified he’d killed him for a second he hadn’t been able to feel his own heartbeat. Peter had never once actually tried to kill anyone he fought, and he’d still been terrified this would be the one time he’d messed up and given a hit too hard.

He hadn’t. And Harry was okay. No. Not…okay. Alive. But-

“His eyes?” echoed MJ in confusion.

“Yeah,” said Peter, trying to come back down to reality, “they were…I only saw them for a minute, right at the end, and again, when Oscorp was transporting him away for treatment. But they were glowing. Not brown anymore either. Yellow. He didn’t…look like him.”

His voice had gotten so small.

He hadn’t meant it too.

MJ was quiet.

“…I’m sorry,” she said finally, and he could hear she meant it, “Do you know anything yet? What happened? Where he’s been?”

“Not much,” said Peter, trying to wall feelings back up so he could operate again, “Oscorp said a lab accident of some kind when he was getting treatment, and they’re taking him in to try and fix it.”

Which, thank God not the Raft. He didn’t think he would have been able to bear that. But…

“I…I don’t buy that though. He shows up, sure a kind of motivationless seeming attack, but it ruined the buy-out, and the Oscorp investigation at the same time. Even with their stock taking a hit too, their competition got the worse end of this, and they’re at least stalled from what Yuri expected to be a devastating run-in with internal affairs. Now, they have a perfect excuse for any documents that go ‘missing’. Probably nothing will happen with legal action after that at least until Norman’s back in the country.”

“You think he’d use his own son like this?” asked MJ, aghast.

“No! I would have thought it was about the only thing he wouldn’t do! But after last year…?”

Yeah. After last year, everything about Norman Osborn was more questions than answers.

No. Not about Norman. About…everything.

And that was what he was really afraid of. He wanted to say he knew it hadn’t really been Harry—and he did know it. He believed it. But. Last year had shown him what he knew…what he believed in, it wasn’t always true.

And there could be consequences…

“Right…” said MJ, sounding like she was following the same mental path internally.

“Anyway,” said Peter, hoping to divert her attention back to the present, “I’m going to see if I can’t dig up more. Something like this doesn’t just happen, and I owe it to Harry. To know.”

And to believe it couldn’t have been him. He owed Harry that too. He had to try.

“…Okay,” decided MJ, sounding determined herself, “I’ll do everything I can to dig things up on my end too. Let me know how it goes.”

“Sure thing,” promised Peter, relieved.

“And Peter-“ she called as he went to disconnect, “I’m really sorry.”

“…Yeah.” Said Peter. “Me too.”

There was a click as the line disconnected, and Peter turned his gaze back the way he’d just come. Quick two-story drop, swing into the vent, third from back on the right. Back in business.

It wasn’t like it was the hardest infiltration he’d done in the last year, but uh. Oscorp security was no joke. They’d really beefed it up since everything with Martin Li. Guess that uh. Figures.

Still, he was through the worst of it! Sort of…

Even with an advanced study of the security before going in, a degree in science, and an ability to sense danger and stick to walls, it took Peter another hour somehow to find what he was looking for. Oscorp’s labs spanned many, many floors, with varrying levels of security, and the blueprints did NOT match the interiors! No they did not. Which was extremely frustrating, and against city codes but hey! Not the worst work development for him in recent memory. Backtracking in narrow pipes wasn’t exactly fun or quick, but at least no one was shooting at him.

The place was such a maze in comparison to the blueprints he’s seen that Peter had almost given up on his last trek through yet another story of lab equipment being the right security route to follow and been about to turn around and try another floor, when he’d seen a very impressive amount of oxygen containers being carted down a hall, and followed a sudden hunch. And the cart.

It had payed off. The oxygen had been weaved through halls at what to Peter felt like random, and been left by a huge set of reinforced titanium doors, but he’d had a feeling, and Peter had taken another fifteen minutes to spoof the security system for the four seconds he needed to make it through the motion sensors in the exhaust vent leading in, and it had all been worth it, because he’d found him.

The room was long, with low ceilings and more consoles and lab stations than it seemed like there could possibly be something to do with. About eighteen little centrifuges, incubators, testing sites, printouts, backup power blocks, several types of animals in cages in a corner, data screens, computer banks, a massive microscope, and a lot of things even he couldn’t name at a glance. Near the far end of the room was a large empty tank of green-yellow liquid.

There were people in lab coats all over, some at stations, and a big clump of about eight around a console at the far end of the room.

“-he’s going to literally kill us,” one of the scientists nearest him was saying to another in undertones.

“No, by the time he gets here, we’ll have someone to hang out as responsible for the little incident with his son, and we’ll have gotten some actionable results here he won’t have to know how we got, and that’s going to be the only thing he cares about,” answered the other in a ‘and stop talking about this forever now please’ tone of voice.

“Besides. He’s tied up internationally in court. Even for this, he won’t be home for a month, maybe two, three,” said another.

“You haven’t seen him really determined,” said the first again, “There is nothing the man won’t do.”

“I have, and that’s how I know there are things even he can’t do,” answered the third again, “Now can we please focus on getting those actionable results? Because if we don’t, she definitely has a point.”

Okay. Kind of a huge relief to hear for once it sounds like Norman wasn’t involved in something. At least there’s a line. But, I’m definitely in the right place now, so…where’s Harry? It was the right spot for sure. There was Harry’s name, medical history, and bio readout splashed up on a handful of the screens people were working at right below him. It had to be here, right? Or close anyway. Had to.

Careful, Peter slid along the vent system installed for sucking chemicals in or out of the room in an emergency that ran straight down the center of the lab, for once too intent on searching to be thinking about what would happen if there was a spill while he was in the vent, like he usually would have.

Come on, come on!

He hesitated about halfway down the long rectangular room, noticing a screen near him. It wasn’t at a great angle for his neck, but he could make out the words.

Harry.

‘Experimental serum,’ ‘enhanced physicality,’ ‘heightened aggression,’ ‘triggered adrenal response,’ ‘fractured mental processing.’ He skimmed fast, hitting highlights.

Harry…. God. How? How did this happen! Nothing here about that at all.

It was infuriating.

At least I was right, he thought, not sure if it was okay to be reassured by this or not, since the results looked…pretty grim, according to that, you would have been completely out of your head… when … you…

He saw him.

The eight scientists gathered around a console weren’t just gathered around a console at the far end of the room. They were encircling a tube about seven feet long and three and a half feet wide, filled with the same fluid as the big empty tank, and just big enough to hold a human being in it. Which it did.

It was laid sideways like a battery, plugged into the console, and inside was Harry, laid on his stomach in an oxygen mask and chains.

It was everything he had not to break through the roof the second he saw it.

He couldn’t understand why.

You’ve seen lock-ups before, Pete. You know how hard some of them can be to contain. He destroyed four buildings yesterday. You knew he’d be locked up somewhere.

The calming himself down with logical reasoning thing was not working.

He-he couldn’t even tell if Harry was awake. His eyes were half open and glazed over, floating there—IS HE DEAD??

Panic flooded him.

One of the doctors moved a control on the console and the chains around Harry’s wrists and ankles retracted and pulled taut, immobilizing him, and it was suddenly very clear he was alive and awake, because his eyes snapped open, glowing a bright yellow that’s as unnerving to see, and he started thrashing madly against the chains and trying to slam a knee or elbow into the side of the tank, furious, unintelligible sounds coming from beneath the mask. Almost instantly in response, something shocked him. Peter couldn’t tell where it had originated from, but he’d seen enough people tazed to know what was happening as his friend suddenly jerked and started to convulse, then went limp and still hanging in the liquid like before, eyes shut.

Crap crap crap; Harry. I-

Th-there was nothing to do, but…wait. Watch. He didn’t want to. He wanted to jump down there and start breaking things, but. …He couldn’t. For all he knew, they really…were…helping him. Just because he didn’t like it, didn’t mean…

…

It was hard.

Peter was there for hours. Watching, listening. trying to understand. It was unbelievably miserable.

It didn’t matter this wasn’t the first time someone he’d liked and respected was in cuffs; it didn’t matter this wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone he knew become someone he didn’t. It was different. It was worse. And it was…wrong.

They were experimenting on him. And sure, okay, they had to. They had to figure out what was wrong, to fix it. But not like this!

Nobody talked to him. No breaks, no rest. Not even for meals. Just an IV in an arm and oxygen in a mask keeping Harry alive, trapped submerged in that tiny tube he wouldn’t have even had space to get to his knees in. Sometimes, Harry was out of it, or straight up unconscious. Sometimes, he was awake and struggling, only to get shocked into submission again. Sometimes, he seemed to get shocked down before he’d tried to do anything at all, just to make sure he wouldn’t throw off whatever test they were running. After a while, he quit fighting except to try and pull away from them, while they remote operated robot arms and drew blood and other DNA samples, tried things, tested serums, response times, stimuli. It was exhausting even to watch, and he hated it. Norman never would have allowed this! Whatever his faults, one of them was not using Harry as a lab rat. But. He wasn’t here. The conversation Peter had overheard played again and again in his head as he tried to think. They were right. Norman couldn’t be back for a while. Even if he knew, even if Peter somehow got footage and sent it to him, and it actually made it there, and he believed any of it, all it would probably do is put him through hell.

Which mean he didn’t know what to do.

By the end of his day of listening in, skimming screens for info, and snagging data off drives, Peter was sure of a few things though. One, whatever had happened to Harry, it had happened at Oscorp, and they’d known about it long before yesterday. Two, whatever he’d taken seemed to have had some impact on his neurological condition—at a guess, Peter had to assume that’s why he’d taken it in the first place. They weren’t sure of the full affects though. All they knew for certain was that any time he was awake, the drug kicked in and he was unpredictable: out of it, and dangerous, and unstable, and a lot stronger than a normal human. Three, whatever the drug was, it had not finished altering his DNA yet, and the submersion in the tank was to stay off further changes. And four, whatever they were doing to try to ‘help’ him now, they’d made little progress in the last year with Norman there, and whether or not they actually could do any of what they’d said now without him, their methods without oversight were anything but humane.

And he wasn’t going to stand for that.

He knew that much for sure. Risky or not, Harry needed help. Actual help. Not this. He wasn’t going to sit by, and wait for it to be too late again. He wasn’t going to try to let a problem fix itself and hope. Not with his best friend.

Which meant the only question then was what exactly to do.

He couldn’t just…break him out and take him to a hospital. Oscorp would have him back within the hour. He couldn’t rescue him give him to…anyone, really. There was…no one left anymore he knew to go to for help who’d know how. He couldn’t just break him out and let him go, either, though, because God knew how conscious of himself Harry would be, or what kind of damage he might cause out of his head—let alone what law enforcement might do to him after yesterday if they caught him like this.

Which…meant it was leave him, locked in a tank he could barely move around in to be experimented on by the people who’d sent him out as a weapon 24 hours ago, which wasn’t an option, or…

Oh boy.

-

-

It was dark.

Cold.

He couldn’t fall asleep. Harry had tried. But he was so tired his brain wouldn’t. It was running four seconds of memory in an endless, feverish loop and he couldn’t think, couldn’t not think enough to sleep, couldn’t anything.

At least they’re gone, the most conscious part of him thought, wanting to curl up and whimper, but too tired to move.

Who were they? Why? Why why why why why WHY WHY? I don’t—I don’t—I can’t! I-

Movement.

Adrenaline flipped on and Harry opened his eyes wide, irises yellowing and flickering to a glow in the pitch black room as he stared out at the empty lab.

Empty?

No, he thought, fear kicking in like he’d been stabbed with a syringe of it, Something’s there.

The restraints were slack now, with no one there, and he could move just a little, so he pushed himself up as much as he could in the tube and looked.

Nothing. No—

There!

Movement again. Where had it gone?

What’s out there? His anxiety deepened, and he placed his palms against the glass, leaning, trying to see.

It was so quiet.

Why would something be here? What do they want? What do they-

He turned his head left again and in deep shadows about fifteen feet back was Spider-Man like he’d aparated.

Harry jerked back, scream muffled through the mask, instantly hitting the back wall of the tiny glass cage keeping him trapped on his side.

The towering figure raised its hands and called something, but Harry didn’t hear it through the pounding in his ears.

No no no no no no!

Memory after memory from yesterday slammed into his skull and he doubled over and covered his right eye with a palm, digging his fingers into his forehead trying to push back against the pain. He’s going to kill me!

He could see it. He could feel the impact of a foot against his chest, and fists on the side of his face. Remembered the pounding pain again and again, this thing on top of him, until he’d hit his head so many times he’d lost consciousness.

Why?! Help! I—

Movement again. It was coming closer. Panicked, Harry flung his arms and legs against the glass of the tank, trying to break it and get out. Immediately, intense pain shot along his back as the cage tazed him, but he kept trying, too scared to stop—god it was almost on top of him-!

I can’t get out I can’t get out!

Spider-Man was there then, and Harry flung his arms over his head and curled up, recoiling as much as he could and shuddering as electricity ran along his body and fear pumped in his veins.

No no no not again not again.

“It’s okay! Please—I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m trying to help.”

The cage was not snapped in half, and he was not dragged out of it and crushed like he had anticipated. It took a few seconds, but he registered this past the pain in every muscle from the shocks, and thudding of his heart in his ears, the fear in his throat. It took him another few seconds to realize Spider-Man was speaking to him.

“Please! Just—Try to stay calm, okay? That thing shocks you any time it senses a mood spike or adrenaline rush.”

W-What?

Harry lowered his arms enough to see the masked person past them. Spider-Man was inches away, gesturing as he spoke. Harry shuddered involuntarily, mind replaying again and again the way getting his face beat in had felt.

“Okay,” said Spider-Man, “Okay! Good. Uhm. There’s really no easy way to do this. I’m gonna get you out of there, and an alarm is going to sound, and then we’re probably just going to have to wing it, okay?”

Before Harry could think about what any of the words his frantic brain had half-heard had meant, the masked figure wound up a kick, and fractures cascaded along the glass tube in front of him. Harry yelped and tried to drag himself back and away, but there was nowhere to GO in the tube. Spider-Man swung and kicked the glass again, and this time little spurts of liquid shot out from the webbed glass cracks. Harry didn’t see the dent in the glass. He flinched and saw the foot connect with himself. Felt the way his ribs had. The way they still hurt.

Ah ah ah ah!

Electricity sparked along his back, sharp and furious this time, stronger, and he collapsed against the floor of the tube with it in surprise, twitching. Why why why make it stop make it stop!

It hurt; it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt! Couldn’t—move! Couldn’t…!

The glass shattered, and he was knocked out with the remaining water, catching halfway to the floor as his restraints snapped taut and hung him there painfully.

“I-I got you!”

He could barely see, couldn’t think at all. Muscles still twitching. He felt the restraints snap, and landed against the floor, suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Here.”

The oxygen mask came off, and he could breathe again. There were sirens sounding. Lights flashing. He didn’t understand why. What was going on. Where am I?

O-Oscorp? Why? Everything felt unreal, but that didn’t make him less afraid of it.

When he looked up, Spider-Man was there, kneeling beside him, an arm on his back, and the terror kicked back in full throttle.

With every ounce of strength he had, Harry shoved off the masked figure and stumbled up, running blindly.

He heard, “Wait!” called after him, but didn’t even process the word through the adrenaline, and he tore through the lab with all his might. No plan. No exit. Just adrenaline and fear and desperation.

Something snagged a foot and he slammed forward into the ground and felt himself being dragged back.

No no no!

Twisting frantically onto his back, Harry saw web wrapped around the chain on his ankle, saw that thing reeling him towards it like he was trapped on a hook.

Anger overwhelmed him and he screamed, reaching blindly for the nearest thing—a computer console, and chucked it at him. Spider-Man dodged, but he let go to do it, and Harry scrambled to his feet and tried to run again, only to be hit in the back by something and knocked to the ground.

Spider-Man was on him then, a knee on his back, and Harry screamed and tried to twist around and kick him off.

“I’m sorry about this!” called the thing on top of him.

There were voices, close. Shouts. Louder sirens. Harry was seeing none of it past three days ago. Past being trapped under this thing and the way it had felt when the visor had shattered with a punch and cut the skin by his eyes, and frantic, he twisted onto his back and swung up at Spider-Man only to have a web knock the fist back and pin it to his body. He struggled, trying to get it free, but the thing spun him, winding a web around his arms and legs like a rope, and then dragged him up and flung him over one of its shoulders.

The doors opened at the far end of the lab. Harry was paralyzed for a second, overwhelmed with different memories at the sight of the people in white coats, the men in body armor with guns. The sting of needles, electricity running up his back, chain digging into his wrists, cold, confusion, anger. So much anger.

He lost time to it. Everything seemed frozen in his head, and then time came back and he was at the far end of the room, and Spider-Man was kicking through a wall and running, carrying him with him.

Fury took over and he lost time again to it as he started to fight against the bonds, brain registering only fragments. Labs, gunshots, flashing lights. Some huge drop in a shaft, an office, and then Spider-Man was swinging through a window and he was free-falling, tied up and slung over a kidnapper’s shoulder, and he came back as the anger gave way to fear again.

He screamed, and started to struggle, and felt Spider-Man’s grip slip for a second, and realized to his horror that if he broke free now, he would fall eighteen stories and flatten against the pavement, and went perfectly still, eyes squeezed shut and trying not to shake. There was nothing else he could do. Fight: die. Submit: …and what?

I don’t understand, I don’t understand! he thought desperately, overwhelmed, the sensation of falling coming again and again sickeningly with his eyes squeezed shut, afraid to look as Spider-Man held onto him and swung through the city, Why? What do you want! Why is this happening? What are you going to do?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything, except that he was scared and alone. He had been scared and alone for so long, he could barely remember anything else.

Something had happened three days ago. He couldn’t remember. But something really, really bad. And Spider-Man had hurt him, a-and if being locked up hadn’t been enough to satisfy him, then…?

He was scared.

They stopped, finally. He felt Spider-Man land on solid ground, and after a few seconds with no change in that, he let himself open his eyes. Still afraid to move. Harry didn’t recognize the place. An underpass? A tunnel? Something dark. Spider-Man went right to a wall and tugged a piece of cardboard graffiti aside, and there was a door behind it. He keyed in a code, and stepped in quick, Harry still slung over a shoulder, and then they were just in the dark.

There were about two seconds of blackness, and then a light switched on, and Harry felt his stomach drop as the pitch black space lit up and became a lab, with a tank of liquid a very familiar color in a corner.

Despair submerged him like he was already locked inside it again, and he stayed still, too overwhelmed to accept the situation, to think at all.

Nothing but fear.

No no. Please not again. Why. Why?

Spider-Man got to the center of the room and laid him on the floor, and Harry stayed limp, listening, trying frantically to find any way out of this, and coming up blank.

What is he going to do to me?

He wanted to cry. He didn’t want to die yet. Here, alone, without seeing his dad or his friends. He. He wanted to get out. He…

“Okay. Sorry, let me get that.”

Harry barely registered words at all, as Spider-Man knelt and started to pull the webbing off. Just lay there, shaking. Thinking about the tank and the pain in his ribs and his eye. And then his upper torso was free, and with a sudden surge of desperation, Harry lashed out and caught the Spider in the side of the head with a yell.

It had been a lucky shot, and his second swing wasn’t so lucky. Spider-Man caught the fist and dragged it back against the ground, then snagged the other and pinned him down as Harry frantically thrashed and writhed beneath him.

“No!” he shouted, finding his voice for the first time, “Let me go! Stop!”

“Harry! Please!” tried Spider-Man, struggling with him, “Don’t—Just stop! It’s okay!”

Harry could hear the chains still on his wrists dragging against the concrete floor as his kidnapper tried to hold him down.

“Get off me! Help! Please!” shouted Harry, “Help!”

“Harry! Harry it’s okay!”

“Please! Somebody!”

“You’re okay! —Harry it’s me!” Spider-Man let go of one of his arms for an instant and ripped his mask off. “It’s me! I’m not going to hurt you! You’re safe! I promise! I promise.”

Harry stopped and stared.

Above him, Spider-Man cautiously let go of his arms and sat up a little, worried face looking back.

“…Peter?” asked Harry in broken disbelief.

Peter Parker nodded.

…he…

“The…whole time?” he asked.

Peter nodded again. “Yeah.”

Harry shot up and flung his arms around Peter and clung to him.

He felt Peter freeze up, but all he could think was his own relief.

“Peter,” he cried, burying his head against his neck.

There was a second, and then he felt Peter’s arms close around him and hug him back.

He had never felt safer or happier in his life.

“Pete, I don’t know what’s going on,” he pleaded, unable to stop crying in relief, “Something’s really wrong with me.”

“I know,” came his best friend’s voice, steady and reassuring as always.

“I-I’m so sorry; I think I hurt you,” he stuttered, “when—I-I don’t remember why we were fighting, but-”

“-Me too,” cut in Peter worriedly, “I’m really sorry—I had no idea it was you.”

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you,” said Harry, digging his face in deeper against Peter’s neck and holding onto him like it was the only thing keeping him alive, “I thought I was gonna die there.”

“Never,” promised Peter worriedly, “I’d never let that happen.”

“How did you find me?” asked Harry, finally opening his eyes.

“As soon as I knew it was you, I just stayed close,” said Peter, “Followed Oscorp. I’m…so sorry I didn’t know. Th-that you were sick, and this whole time you’ve been missing…”

Harry loosened his grip enough to sit back so he could see Peter again, and smiled at him. “How could you have known?”

Peter smiled back, and he looked so sad and so happy and so relieved and so worried all at the same time, that Harry wasn’t sure what it meant.

He felt worry blossom in his chest again. “Pete… What’s going on?” he asked, glancing behind him at the tank, and around at the equipment with some growing unease, then back at Peter. “W-Why am I here? Why do you have that?”

Peter followed his gaze to the tank, and his expression became worried. Which was not reassuring.

He wouldn’t hurt me. This is Peter. He wouldn’t.

“I…nobody told you?” asked Peter, something in his expression breaking, “Did they tell you anything?”

“O-Oscorp?” checked Harry, “No. Or…I-I don’t remember.” Trying to remember hurt.

“Okay,” said Peter slowly, thinking, and looking very upset. There was the faint clink of metal from the snapped chains as he took Harry’s hands gently in his own and looked back at him. “There’s some kind of drug Oscorp had you take. I think because you were sick. It’s altered your DNA, but, not exactly like they thought. It’s why you can’t remember much about fighting me. It kicks in hard with adrenaline and some emotional responses, anger especially. But it hasn’t finished altering you. They haven’t figured out a way to counter it or get it out, but the stuff in the tank, it keeps the serum close to inert. Buys some time to try to find an antidote before it gets worse. I’m…so sorry they didn’t even explain why they were doing things.”

Drug…?

A flash of pain dug into the right side of his skull, and he let go of Peter’s hand to clutch his forehead.

“Har?!” he heard Peter call worriedly, felt a hand in his back.

“I-I’m okay,” he managed, fingers digging into his skin, “I’m okay. Sorry. I…”

“Are you sure?” asked Peter, anxiously helping him straighten back up.

No?

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Words replayed in his head, memories, bad ones, and he took the lab in for a third time.

“So then…” he asked with a sinking feeling, eyeing the oxygen tanks and the monitors, “This is all for me.”

“I’m…sorry,” said Peter, sounding truly miserable, “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought, this way I can help. We can find a cure, and Oscorp won’t find you, and…I know, it still sucks, but.”

There was something about his expression, and Harry felt sick. He turned his head to take in the tank again. A little box. A little glass cage. He felt a shudder run down him. Something worse. “P-Peter,” he tried, looking back at him, “Did I hurt people?”

Peter looked so taken aback by the question.

“When I…when we fought. And…I-I can’t remember. But. I hurt people, didn’t I?”

Peter didn’t answer, but from Peter, that was its own answer, and Harry felt his heart crumble to dust.

He looked away, down at the floor.

“Har…” said Peter hesitantly.

“It’s okay,” said Harry quietly, trying not to think, “I’ll go. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

“Har…I won’t—…I wouldn’t make you. You know that, right?”

He looked up at Peter, and smiled. It was good to hear him say that. He hadn’t been sure.

“Thank you,” he said again, still feeling sick at the thought of going back in a tank, “For everything, Pete.”

Peter smiled back at him, and he was overwhelmed.

He put his arms around Peter again and pulled him close, burying his face against Peter and trying to soak in the feeling so he could remember it. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to go back.

“Harry,” said Peter after a second, almost gently.

“I-I know,” said Harry, clinging tighter, “I’ll go. I will. I promise. Just, please. I haven’t been out in a year. Just another minute before I go back in there. Please.”

Peter was quiet. He felt arms close around his back and return the embrace again.

“I was going to say I think it’s okay if we wait a little. I need to get a read on the mutation rate outside the tank as a baseline anyway. Maybe we could get a pizza, some real food, just. Sit for a little bit,” came Peter’s voice.

Harry hugged him tighter, trying not to cry again.

He nodded.

“Okay,” said Peter quietly, and there was a smile in his voice, “Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll go grab us one.”

“Thank you,” managed Harry, eyes shut. Afraid opening them would wake him up, “for saving me.”

Peter leaned his head against Harry’s.

“I missed you,” said Harry.

“I missed you too,” answered Pete.

[roccinan]

2022 Fic Review

(Tagged by @natures-marvel thanks for tagging!)

End of the Year Fic Review 2022

1. What is your AO3 account?

Rocinan

2. How many words did you write total in 2022?

131,168

3. How many fics did you publish in 2022? How many multichapters vs oneshots?

6 fics total (1 of which was an art piece)

1 oneshot and 3 multichaptered (2 still unfinished)

4. What was your longest fic? Your shortest fic?

Longest : Birdcage at 45,596 words

Shortest : Café for Your Trouble with 0 words LOL, or  Over the Hills and Far Away at 1279 words

5. What was your most popular fic? Your least popular fic?

Most popular:  Grand Hotel, A Tale of Love and Intrigue

Least popular:  Over the Hills and Far Away

6. What fic didn’t perform as well as you thought it would?

Hmm. They all sort of performed how I expected, as in I was pleasantly surprised to get more than 10 kudos for anything XD Maybe chapter 2 of The Contract? Not sure if people like it less than ch. 1. But in terms of the fics themselves, Over the Hills and Far Away already received more hits than I ever imagined lol but I guess I thought it’d earn at least 10 kudos. 

7. What fic performed way better than you thought it would?

Grand Hotel, hands down. 

8. What was your favorite fic you wrote from 2022?

This is a hard one, but probably Birdcage! Because I actually managed to finish it in 2022 asdfasdf Also it gave me the chance to write some extreme Andres whump, so there’s that!

9. What was your favourite fic that somebody else wrote in 2022?

I can’t settle for any one fic, so here’s some that I personally enjoyed the most and had the time to read in 2022! Most of them lean dark, so with the exception of “Upon paper wings” and “The way to a man’s heart,” do mind the warnings and tags!

Did I ever leave the lights on (could you ever find your way back home?) by @nharidy A crack concept (berlermo switch souls out of the blue) on the surface, but a story that’s so much more than that. Legit one of the most selfless, genuine depictions of Martin’s love (and that shred of nobility under all the asshole in his blood) I’ve ever read, and I still get emotional thinking about this story.

something borrowed, something -- by anonymous; I swear I’m not biased but I must say, I was insanely lucky to have such a talented writer take a post of a scenario I made and publish a full story based on it. Like WHEN will that ever happen again?? It’s like I threw a coin down a wishing well and it happened! This is a fantastically written (but Very dark!) character study, and even though there’s no upfront gore or violence, the story pulls no punches with the premise: injured, amnesiac Andres thinks Gandia is Martin and suffers all sorts of sexual, domestic, and psychological abuse as a result. 

Those Violent Delights by @aceraphaelsantiagos Ongoing but well worth the wait! It’s an ongoing berlermo thriller told out of chronological order and watching the puzzle unfold is like climbing deeper into the spider web. AU but amazing characterization, and with my favorite dynamic: Dom/Dom!

{ Upon paper wings. } by @moneyheist-fam Their first berlermo fic! And a truly wonderful one at that. One of the rare completed AUgust fics LOL. There’s a warm fairy tale like quality to this, and it’s just a very sweet and beautifully written tale about soulmates.

A Lamb for Our Love  by @the--sound--of--rain Ongoing, but definitely a story that stuck with me since the first time I read it! Another “Gandia abducts Andres and-” story, but the fic is about what happens after Andres comes back to Martin. A rocky, angsty piece with heartbreaking characterization and a look at what would happen if these two made the worst possible choices thinking that’s what’s best. The first chapter is definitely worth the read, and I’m sure the second will be equally good, if not better!

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach by @alfredo-kesmann Why yes, this is my gift haha, but alfredo-kesmann went above and beyond a very simple prompt and gave us a story that’s insanely funny and endearing all at the same time. Truly one of my favorite fics of 2022 and I rec it to everyone, especially everyone whoever thought “hmm what if Andres being a good cook is just headcanon and he really sucks at it?? would Martin lie and pretend he’s good?” Answer: yes Martin would

Vinum Stygis by @signorin-anarchia Another ongoing fic! But very underrated and promising. A period gothic romance with all the creepy and dark elements you’d want from the genre. It’s a creative spin on Crimson Peak that somehow manages to make the premise work for berlermo, and definitely deserves more attention. Wonderful atmosphere and toxic assholes all around~

Last but not least, The Fatal Drive by NaturesMarvel! Kal’s longest fic yet, and my favorite 2022 hit from her. It’s filled with lots of twists and turns (and a plot that’s blockbuster material for sure!), including a few that actually fooled me haha Also features badass Martin, a satisfying amount of hurt!Andres (thank you for your service Kal), and cameos from just about everyone. This is an AU where everything starts with Andres receiving a pen drive (saying anything else would be a spoiler!)

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Could you do a fic where Peter 1 meets the Harry of his universe and talks to Peter 2&3 about it maybe Mary Janes also there

or

Maybe he meets Peter twos Harry if he survived this time since Norman was cured

“Petey! We were just wondering when you’d get back. How’d it go?” Peter Three piped up as soon as Peter One came through the door. “Did you tell her? Are you and your MJ back on?”

“Uh…no, sorry,” Peter One murmured, though despite his failure, he didn’t look as dejected as usual. He looked more pensive, unsure. “I got kind of, uh…sidetracked.”

“Now where have I heard that one before?” Mary Jane chuckled ruefully with a nudge of her elbow against Peter Two, who couldn’t help but blush. “Well, how was she anyway? Did it seem like Michelle was doing okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so, but I didn’t actually get to talk to her. Like I said, I got distracted. There was someone else there.”

Peter Three winced in anticipation. “Oof, not an ex, I hope. You know you can’t trust that Liz Allan girl. Selling you out to the tabloids as soon the world saw your face is 100% not rebound material.”

“No, no, it wasn’t even anybody I knew before,” Peter admitted. “Actually, I think it was somebody you guys knew. There was a long line, he was in front of me and I happened to see the game he was playing on his phone. It’s a hidden object game where you look for clues to solve parts of an overarching mystery and—well, never mind that part. I had already played the scene he was on and he couldn’t find a couple of the clues so I pointed them out. After that he wanted my help with the next few puzzles.”

“And being the gold-hearted giver that you always are, you couldn’t say no?” Peter Three predicted.

Normally Peter One would have taken that as a compliment but his smile was more like a grimace. “Yeah, well, I sat with him, just talking and playing. We even joined each other’s in-game teams so we could gift each other advantages. It was all fine and normal, it was fun! I haven’t had that much fun with anybody but you guys since…since Ned.”

“Peter, if you feel like you’re ‘replacing’ Ned, please don’t,” Two chided gently. “You’re allowed to make new friends while you’re still figuring out how to talk to him.”

“That’s exactly what I was trying to tell myself but…then MJ called out the guy’s order.” He fidgeted, glancing meaningfully between his brothers. “Harry Osborn.”

Peter Two stiffened, Mary Jane lost a bit of color in her face and Peter Three shot upright on his cot. “What?”

“Yeah. Apparently he exists in my universe too. When I heard his name, I had no idea what to think.” Lips pursing, Peter One shook his head in frustration. “I-I kind of still don’t. He seems nice but I don’t exactly have the best track record, trusting ‘nice’ people. It just seems like none of us can make a good friend, a real friend without it getting ruined. Just look at Mysterio—and what about everything the Harry Osborns did in your worlds? I couldn’t just sit with that and pretend to stay cool so while he was up at the counter getting his drink, I booked it outta there.”

“You ditched him?” Mary Jane couldn’t help but sound a little dismayed.

“I know, not my proudest moment. Now he’s messaging me in the team group chat asking what happened and I have no idea what to say. How can I talk to him again? This guy who supposedly called himself your best friend, he tried to kill you both!”

“Yeah, but…I don’t know, maybe this one could be different?” Peter Three suggested tentatively. Peter One could only sigh.

“Come on, we’re three-for-three on being Spider-Man. Who’s to say Harry Osborn wouldn’t be three-for-three on betraying us if I let him get anywhere near me?”

Peter Two shared an unreadable glance with his MJ before shaking his head. “What do you want us to say, Peter?”

“Well, would you trust him?”

“You know I can’t really answer that. We only know the Harry from our worlds and neither of them was this one. I don’t know what it means that you crossed paths with him, Pete, but…if he’s nice, if you think you might make good friends, you could give it a shot. I regret what happened between me and my world’s Harry every day. For all we know, this could be the universe where Peter Parker and Harry Osborn become friends and stay friends.”

“But what if it isn’t? What if he’s exactly the same?”

“We’re all Peter Parker, we’re all Spider-Man,” Peter Three allowed, “but are we all exactly alike?”

“…No.”

“Right. Brown eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes. Curly hair, straight hair, short hair. You wouldn’t jump to judge Peter Parker’s books by their covers when we don’t even have the same covers.”

“I’m one of the multiverse’s MJs just as much as Michelle is,” Mary Jane added, “and our lives couldn’t be more different if we tried. The fact that you started with a Ned Leeds as your best friend and not a Harry at all means that this Harry’s relationship with Peter Parker has already diverged from the others. So why don’t you want to give it a try?”

Peter One swayed uncertainly, unable to quite meet their eyes. “I guess I just…don’t want to get hurt again…”

“That’s the risk we take with every relationship,” Peter Two murmured, MJ snuggling deeper into his side.

“That’s the risk I took when I told you guys I loved you,” Three concurred, a small, rueful laugh escaping him. “All you said back then was ‘Thank you’ and yet look at us now!”

“If you genuinely don’t want to talk to him again, you don’t have to. But we don’t want you to miss out on something that could be good because of our pasts. We want better things for you.”

Peter One found himself hard-pressed to swallow the tightness that surfaced in his throat. That sentiment seemed to be a multiversal constant.

I just wanted to be like you.

And I wanted you to be better.

Maybe…this would be a chance to prove that he could be.

[bluepinstripes]

2022 Year in Review

tagged by @seek--rest and @abc2411

1. number of stories posted to ao3:

5

2. word count this year:

30,191

3. fandoms i wrote for:

spider-man

4. pairings:

petermj

5. stories with the most:

kudos, bookmarks - just like a movie

comments, word count - when peter met mj (kind of cheating because its multichapter but whatever)

6. work i’m most proud of (and why):

to need somebody

i wrote this for spideychelle week in maybe 40 minutes, and I really like how it turned out. i’ve noticed that when i write petermj, a lot of it (most of it) is about how their relationship is Hard but they continue to choose each other, because that’s one of my favorite things about their relationship in the comics that i’ve read so far. i felt like this fic encapsulates that. this isn’t my favorite fic i wrote in 2022, but it is the first one where i started to get into that part of their relationship, so that’s why i’m proud of it. 

7. work i’m least proud of (and why):

i like and am happy with all the fic i’ve published! i wouldn’t publish it if Eye didn’t want to read it---hence why there’s a lot of half finished shit in my drafts. there’s some stuff on my ao3 that i don’t like that much anymore, but it’s from 2020 and i’d like to think it’s because i’ve grown as a writer since then. 

8. share or describe a favorite review you received:

This is one of my top 3 spideychelle comfort stories. I keep it pulled up incase I need a smile. I love this so much!!! It never fails to make me smile the entire time. Mj calling just to scold him while at the awards is great!

this was on my fic just like a movie, and it came like six months after i published it. it’s pretty much my favorite review i’ve ever gotten! i love that something i wrote became a comfort fic for someone. it meant the world to me fr.

9. a time when writing was really, really hard:

from basically january to june 2022 i did not write a single word because i was submitting grad school applications and then waiting to hear back, and it burned me out so horrifically i could barely answer texts and emails.

10. a scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

i did not expect to write “just like a movie” because while i love coming up with fun aus like that i struggle to translate it from my head to a word doc. like i usually stick with messaging a pal “okay but imagine if mj was at the oscars...” followed by a massive paragraph, and then i’m over it. so no one was more surprised than me that this one actually got published lol.

11. a favorite excerpt of your writing:

But that was then, and this is now, and she’s tired.

“I need time,” she tells him, finally managing to look at his torso. The spider emblem on his chest stares back, mocking her.

MJ can feel his eyes on her, searching her. She wonders what he’ll find. “I can—I can give you time.”

She feels like she owes him an explanation, or at least a semblance of one. He doesn’t have to say anything for her to know that his mind is running at a million miles a minute right now, trying to pinpoint when he messed up, when it all changed. She doesn’t know how to tell him that he won’t find one, and that she doesn’t know either.

She loves him. She loves him just as much as she did when they were seventeen, loves him more, even, now that she knows him as an adult. She loves his smile and the way he smells and his overwhelming sense of responsibility, even when it drives her crazy. She loves the way he looks at her and the sound of his laugh when she tries to cook for them, and she loves the way he thinks.

She doesn’t know when it stopped being enough, or if it actually has. She doesn’t know if this is a passing feeling, if the noose that’s been slowly tightening around her lungs for weeks now will loosen when she doesn’t have to sit up at night waiting for him anymore, or if this is just what it means to have Peter Parker in her life. She doesn’t know if she’ll regret this as soon as he leaves, if she’ll call him back and tell him she didn’t mean it, that she loves him too. x

12. how did you grow as a writer this year:

not many people on here know this about me but i actually am in grad school for creative writing now! i absolutely love it and i feel like my teachers have helped with my writing a ton. a big thing i’ve changed in the last six months is i try not to use as many adjectives, and i use shorter sentences. it’s something i’m still working on. maybe you can’t see it in fic but it’s been more clear to me in original work i’ve written for school lol.

13. how do you hope to grow this year:

this has nothing to do with fic i am trying to get published this year, whether that’s a book deal or in a magazine. i’ve been submitting my work places so i guess we’ll see.

14. who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer:

in terms of fic tbh i feel like i wouldn’t have written hardly anything if seek didn’t hype me up about it. she’s always so excited about people’s ideas, and has always been super supportive :)

15. anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

lmaooooo “just before you go” has a lot of personal stuff 

16. any wisdom you can share with other writers:

idk tbh i would say just write what you would want to read, and it’s a lot easier to write when you put yourself out there and talk to other writers in the fandom. i wouldn’t have published any spidey stuff (or know nearly as much---2022 was the year i started reading the comics and it was like all the stars aligned and the skies opened up)

17. any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

i am SO looking forward to finishing when peter met mj. would also love to finish and post the MITrio fic i’ve been working on since i saw bp2. also i have been Considering a petermj how to lose a guy in 10 days au

18. tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read:

@watsonmj | @ogiroud and whoever else would like to participate i love to read these types of things.

[alixlives]

ALL OF THEM

From this question list:

HOLY QUESTIONS

1. What is one position you would like to be tickled in?

hug from behind i would love for someone trap me in a hug from behind and wreck me

2. Would you rather have light tickles or rough tickles on a bad spot?

rough tkls on a bad spot !

3. A tickle story you'd like to share?

I was at a sleepover and one of my friends there kept threatening me with tkls / tkling me. Like they stood over me and said “I know all your spots!!” and hovered their hand over me, and later that night trapped me in a hug from behind and spidered all over my stomach it was so sfjfjs

and then the morning after they pinned me down so i was stuck laying on my stomach and they kept poking up and down my sides & ribs and everytime i’d try to push them hand away they just switched spots IMFNJD

4. Have you ever been tickled while doing something? (reading, gaming, etc.) How did it change what you were doing?

I dont think i have, no

5. Favorite ___bug name to be called? (ticklebug, gigglebug, etc.)

I havent been called a name like that so i cant really answer

6. Do you prefer soft tickles or hard tickles?

It depends, but most of the time i prefer hard tkls i like getting wrecked djfsj

But if im like really really tired then i prefer soft tkls

7. Tag one of your favorite lers!

@wilbyscoot hes gonna see it cause of the next one anyway but i do not understand how hes so fuckingood at teasing every single time the smallest thing he says manages to get to me🥲

8. Tag one of your favorite lees!

@wilbyscoot :D

9. One of your favorite tickle tropes?

im a little unsure how to answer so imma just say what i assume this means

i love the thought of a lee finally getting the courage to ask for tkls but the second the tkls start they get all flustered and embarrassed and are like “waitwaitwahaitnohOHO-“

10. A fictional character you would love to wreck/be wrecked by?

i would love to be wrecked by c!tommy, as much as he is absolutely a lee leaning switch he would definitely be such a good ler🫠

pretending that he didnt die, i’d love to wreck c!ranboo. tall lee. and tell me he doesnt need to laugh a little bit? i mean come on

11. Something you didn't expect to tickle, yet surprisingly did?

someone whispering in my ear😭

12. What is by far your worst spot? (no backing out of this one!)

mm tummy

13. Something you like to be called when tickled/teased?

tomlee, sunshine, sunlee, & starbird r probably my favorites but theres other nicknames ive been called and ijustdbdhjd

14. Have you ever joined a fandom just to see the tickle aspect of it?

Ehmm no no i have not but i have read fics from other fandoms im not interested in just for the fact they were tkl fics

15. Tag one of your favorite content creators, show them some appreciation!

Nty👍

16. A tease that never fails to get to you?

the mf tkl monster tease

17. One tool you would like to be tickled with?

None.

18. Someone who was an unexpectedly good ler?

slime is so good at teasing from both experience & what ive seen djshf caught me off guard a little when i got teased by them a little while ago

19. Have you ever tickled someone who wasn't ticklish and got wrecked afterwards because of it? Whats the story behind that?

Noope but ive tkled somebody who is tklish & got wrecked cause of it. Many times

20. Sleepytime tickles or morning tickles?

dont do this to me i have a hard time falling asleep and a hard time waking up dfksj i love both

21. What is one spot youre ticklish on that most people arent as ticklish on?

eehm i think my head lmfao if i get head scratches from someone depending how they do it it will tkl & ill duck my head away while giggling lmao

22. What is one spot youre not ticklish on that most people are?

i dont have an answer for this

23. Have you ever gotten a pedicure that tickled more than it should have?

never gotten one & dont plan to

24. What would you describe the feeling of being tickled as?

being electrocuted just not painful

25. What are some of your favorite aspects of being tickled/tickling someone?

being tkled- i guess kinda just how happy it makes me feel lmfao

tkling someone- hearing their laughter, seeing their reactions

26. What would you say your lee/ler percentages are?

lee- 96%

ler- 4%

im not fuckin joking 😭

27. What is your laughter like when you are tickled?

very very high pitched, shrieky, if im trying to hold back on laughing then it’ll be mostly squeaks. and i get very giggly right before it happening if i know its gonna happen.

28. Are you able to tickle yourself and have it work? If so, what techniques and spots?

i can kinda tkl myself on my hips, i actually just discovered that this morning lmfao im not sure how to describe how i can though

29. A tickle scene that has yet to leave your mind?

wilbur’s stream he did with tommy, where if tommy swore the stream ended when wilbur repeatedly poked tommy’s side cause tommy took smth & tommy screamed and said “Dont poke me in my soft spot!” i just fkdhd im not sure it counts but i say it does

30. How easily do you get flustered?

very easily.

31. What do you think about using pens to write on tickle spots?

eeh idk

32. Opinion on cuddly tickles?

YES. Give me/hj

33. A tickle scenario that you would like to happen to you?

hide n seek but if i get caught i get wrecked That jjst actually sounds fun to me

34. Have/Would you ever play a game of "Keep Your Arms Up?" How long would you last?

I have not, but i would. Probably wouldnt last very long though lmao

35. Opinion on being chased/hiding before from your ler?

Yes. someone actually briefly teased me this morning nd said something similar about this happening and ijust DFSHJ (you know who u are)

36. What kind of ler would you say you are?

i dont really know cause i dont think im that good at teasing lmao

[johnnys-breastmilk]

Wally anon: Oh yay, good. I never know with fans cause some people hate 3 soooo much & it's like damn calm down. (but omg, I know, Idk howwww the same Kevin Williamson who wrote 1/2 planned that shit for 3 & the people who sit around STILL wanting it + Stu to be back is like ???? For me, I'd say things are mostly held together well with 2/3/4 but then you get to 5 & 6 &, well...💀) Oh, I'm not a fan of Judy's kill at all fjdhsk. 🙈 I enjoy Wes's, but wish it had retained the chase element included in the script. Chases are forgotten so frequently & I don't understand howww when everyone always celebrates them when they happen.

Ohhh, I fully misread that lolllll. But guess that's another kink added to the roster for you. 🤭

Yup & it's so weird how some gay will, like...actively chase/obsess over them. Like, I know it's a complicated matter cause you can't help who you like, but...he don't want you. 😶 Especially when they're still able to make you cum even when you've lost the feeling in your legs. 🫣

Oh no💔 Hope you'll be able to bounce outta that 😓 Understandable @ time. I did see how there was a lot of hype for the newest Spider-Man when it dropped (but I fr don't know when the last game I played was I'm terribleeee with that 🫠).

Yupppp 🙌 (I'll see what I can do soon since I'm obviously a little more predisposed to smut lolllll) With such enticing options like Steve & Billy, who wouldn't be? 🤫 (Oh yeah, in general, I feel there isn't enough love for Jason. I understand why. cause some of his behavior, but in the same way that Eddie was reverse engineered to be an ~one season emotional death~ I feel they also. short-changed Jason by making him a ~one season crazy villain~ when it's like...we should be expecting a lot more when we know what this team can do when they try 🤔)  (fhdkdk I used. to be a 3 hater specifically. cause Jeff, but I obviouslyyyyy agree with you now from my placement of it in my ranking) I fr wish 3 had. been the end cause everythinggggg revolving around Amanda John & Lynn just WORKS & it is soooo devastating cause how much we had watched Amanda evolve from movie to movie (but no, we just had to keep going & going after that...) fjdhd tear the devs apart damn 😭 But that's good to know @ you still loving it despite issues. I've never played, just watched a lot of streamers/YTers play (since we've established I'm not much of a gamer), but I very much see the appeal. (But ooh. Makes sense with our ongoing Scream discussions. Who all are your favorite characters/killers in the game?)

It's to the point where terminology like "problematic" has lost all meaning for me cause some people will see the way someone eats a bagel & call it problematic (an exaggeration, but at the same time...is it?) like be fr. There are sometimes. where points are made, but with these 2, in particular, I'm like, "Hmmm, I think y'all are speaking too much on them & jumping to conclusions with their characters." 🧐 Yuppp, absolutely agreed with all of that. In general, outside some cases, when plots entirely. have to rely on extended flashbacks to fill-in information, it strikes me as extremely. lazy cause if Laura was supposed to be such an important character...why were we even spending all that time with the other counselors ckdhd? 💀💀💀 Oh yeah, voice. is to be expected cause that's unique to each writer, but when somebody is avoiding any & all attempts at letting readers know what they're in store for in a fic & basically describe themselves exactly as the "reader," it's like okay 50 Shades Of Grey 🫤

There's just tiny little thoughts so far. I'll have to let them ruminate. 👀 Oh that reallyyyy has me picturing him slapping his fat dick on top of the desk & sliding it back & forth over the paper, getting pre-cum everywhere. 😳

Chases are soooo🤭 idk it makes a slasher icon hot when they gotta chase after you. Like wowwww you want to gut them that bad?? Say less‼️ Plus it’s menacing as hell. Like that one scene of ghostface in the opening of the first movie is so well remembered because he’s literally chasing after someone and you see him gaining on Stacy (was that her name?? the blonde girl from the opening of Scream) and that was scary. Knowing someone is booking after you is crazyyyy

Yup yup, it’s my go to for superheroes because “genetic mutations” made them cum a lotttt and let’s apply it to ghosts

LMAO yeah the gay guys that can’t accept straights are straight are the same as men going for women who aren’t interested in them. Same things fr, same disrespect across the board. Exactly!! They’ve cum so much yet they’re making you still leak cum while everything’s weak😮‍💨

Yeah I’m playing some DBD to take a break from it. I do my best writing at night anyways, so I’m waiting for it to get dark and listen to music and all that🤭

Oh, i’ll take angst smut too🤭 that’s just as good whether it’s hatefucking or something more intense. Jason was missed potential tbh… but I think he gets overhated on a lot. Mostly because he was abusive and hurt lucas and max but like… he had no idea what was going on??😭 I like his representation of an actual outsider getting involved in the mess going on behind the scenes that the main group has kept hidden. It’s better than the Hawkins Lab villains being all basic and generic because Jason at least represents the average person.. 3 makes sm sense to be the end of the series because it kills the main guy making the traps. They could’ve (and should’ve) done a spinoff focusing on Amanda instead of writing her out too. I hate that they kept being like “well this person was shadowing john before this person who was shadowing john before this person…” it’s just so repetitive. In terms of Killers, Ghostface is an aesthetically pleasing character but he’s not my main because his power kinda sucks😪 (stalking but he’s too slow to make good use of it), Demogorgon was up there as my main because he can teleport and has a good ‘dash’ ability that lets him do a long range jump attack, and Tiffany (chucky) is really fun for the same reason as Demo (Michael Myers would be on here but I’m waiting for his rework because his power is so ass). Pig I already said was a favorite of mine since you literally put people in reverse bear traps. Trickster, Artist, and Dredge are probably my favorite original killers in the game. In terms of survivors, I just put who’s hottest as my favorite, and usually it’s Renato Lyra (wrote a fic about pookie🤭) and Gabriel Soma. For licensed survivors, I’d choose Steve Harrington or Leon, since they both have decently good perks and are just🥵 (in other source material, they’re just okay looking here but it’s like how fortnite Leon was adapted to fit the games art style.)

Honestly, that’s so real. Like, the bagel could be from a farm that supports X company and that company is bad because they did/said this years ago. It’s so just sksjsks. It’s like boycotts of massive companies and then “cancelling” people online for giving them money. I feel like most people forget that a lot of Americans don’t have the luxury to boycott some places because they offer affordable items, need it for work, etc. So annoying. Tbh I think with fictional characters, it really doesn’t matter about their actions. Obviously, anything fictional about real people is a different story (like yes, it is problematic to write DAHMER FANFIC?!/&/&/&.. sorry, i just still can’t believe it exists. weirdly enough, i complained about that in a fanfic circle and got banned for “yucking someone’s yum” like, excuse me??) The Billy stuff was particularly annoying because you could not say one nice thing about him without his relationship with Max or him being racist becoming a topic of discussion, but my thing is that he’s fictional and the topic of fics has nothing to do with either?? So no one’s glorifying that part of him or making it out to be good. FIFTY SHADES OF GREY IS SO REAL. EL JAMES IS MY ENEMY FOR MESSING WITH TWILIGht‼️ I know i write very dirty fanfics and smut about other peoples characters, but EL James writing Twilight smut fanfic, then publishing it as 50 Shades, then stealing several of Stephanie Meyers’ moves after publishing the book is so crazy.

Okay okay, I won’t take the cake out too early🫣 I’ll wait and excitedly check my inbox for these because they sound interesting👀 And yesss those papers are drenched and sticking together and he’s like “whoops. guess you’ll have to start all over again after you help me out with this.”

[gintrinsic-writing]

LU + Courage the Cowardly Dog

Starring Wolfie and Courage! The crossover nobody asked for but I was delighted to write. This is Part 1 of 2~

-

Twilight stepped into the portal, anticipating the cool, flickering miasma as it engulfed him.

Wolfie stepped out. 

The cloudless sky offered dim starlight, as though smog clung to the air. The moon was nowhere to be seen. In every direction, the horizon stretched under flat, arid desert like a smile pulled too wide. Only the occasional tumbleweed and scraggly shrub offered any variation along the dry, cracked sand.

Wolfie spun around in a circle, nose held high as he sniffed for his companions. But the weak breeze carried only notes of small lizards and sandstone.

He howled, low and short, then listened for voices, ears swiveling alertly. Cicadas answered his call. Frustrated, Wolfie chuffed and put his nose to the ground, but he couldn't even detect the bitter tang that usually accompanied a recent portal. It was like he had just... been dumped here. Where was he? Was this Hyrule's land? Or Legend's? The desolate environment certainly fit their homeworlds. 

The portals--they still don't really understand them. Not their origin, nor their real purpose. Wolfie supposed it was only a matter of time until something like this happened. It was weird, though, to be so isolated in an unfamiliar world. Now that he thought about it, he didn't remember making the active decision to transform into Wolfie... 

Had the portal truly forced him? 

Sighing, he closed his eyes and focused on shifting back to Twilight. His mind centered, pooling around the Shadow Crystal, then-- 

Pain, and a coldness so severe he felt stiff, corpse-like. His body stayed as Wolfie. 

He was stuck.

Deeply unnerved, Wolfie shook his whole body as though he could fling the coldness from him like water. It helped a little. He looked up, trying to find a constellation he was familiar with, something to guide him through this mess, but none of the stars were recognizable. In fact, they were all bland pinpricks of light, dull and indistinguishable, with equidistance between them. Something was wrong with this place. 

Something was very, very wrong. 

Were the others even here? Were they separated as well? Not knowing what else to do, Wolfie threw his head back and howled again, carrying the note as long as he could. It was a hollow sound, flat and without echo; when it trailed off, he tensed, hoping and hoping. 

This time, something howled back. And Wolfie knew he had made a mistake.

The noise seemed to come from all around him, emanating from the cracks in the ground. Sand shifted, and shadows that should not exist suddenly spilled from the dried crevices like scars that had begun to bleed. 

Wolfie jumped back, but the shadows reached from him. The next limpid breeze carried with it a susurration that grew louder with every second, multiple voices that soon bellowed as one until Wolfie heard his own howl thrown back at him--a garbled, distorted mimicry that Wolfie knew, intuitively, was as hungry as it was mocking. 

He turned and ran, feeling the oppressive shadows at his back, licking at his paws. The desert lay otherwise still around him, indifferent to his fear.

After a couple minutes, his muscles began to burn, and only adrenaline allowed Wolfie to keep sprinting. He could see the shadows coalescing in his periphery, could tell they were growing larger and swifter even as he began to tire. 

If this was the Twilight Realm, then it was a version his Hyrule had been spared. 

He felt trapped in a vacuum, running without gaining distance. His panting was loud in his ears, and his heart beat heavily in his chest. The shadows reached for him, grasping with too many fingers, and Wolfie put on a burst of speed he wasn't sure he had the energy to repeat. 

Suddenly, the horizon changed. There was no transition, no subtle reveal. One moment, there was desert. And the next, as though born from a mirage, there were two buildings; one large and square-shaped, the other long with a row of doors. Nearby, flickering with artificial light, there was a sign. The alphabet was unfamiliar, and yet somehow, impossibly, Wolfie could read it. "KATZ MOTEL. No vacancy."

The shadows' whispering grew with fervor--a predator recognizing the potential loss of prey. The sand groaned as it shifted, new cracks forming under the weight of the coagulating darkness. 

Wolfie ran for all he was worth. The door to the larger building seemed to glow with a sickly yellow light, and he aimed for it desperately. Time seemed to slow down, each second growing heavy with the malicious desire of the darkness behind him, pulling and pulling and pulling at him to join the dust crunching underfoot. The unknown lay behind that door, but death nipped at his heels. 

With a scared, guttural growl, Wolfie bodily threw himself at the door. The cheap latch snapped under the force of his weight, and he frantically spun around, claws scraping and sliding on old, rotting hardwood, to shove the door closed again. 

Outside, the darkness howled one last time. Then silence, like some pernicious default, reigned once more.

Wolfie didn't move for several minutes, panting as he pushed his weight against the busted door. The front wall had a single window, and the light that filtered in from that strange sign flickered erratically. He was afraid to stare out the glass, knowing that something might stare back, but he forced himself to look. Nothing but flat desert landscape could be seen. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Wolfie finally glanced around the room he was in. It was sparsely decorated and poorly maintained. Dust clung to every surface, and some of the floorboards were irreparably warped and stained. Ignoring the small sign that read "No Dogs Allowed," he put his paws on the counter top and saw a single bell, a few keys, and a glossy magazine showcasing various spiders. His eyes lingered longest on the keys, but he didn't have a way to carry all of them conveniently. Especially not if he had to fight or run again. 

Finally, he turned his attention to the only other things in the room--a thick door built into the back wall. A padlock was attached to the knob, but none of the small keys on the counter looked like they would fit it. 

Curious, Wolfie put his nose against the very narrow gap between the door and sniffed. 

Blood. Decay. A rancid, metallic stench. 

He drew back with a snort, shaking his head. The odor clung to his nose. He swore he could almost taste it. On the other side of the door, there was a light scratch. Wolfie firmly decided he didn't want to investigate.

He returned to the front of the room, curiosity warring with trepidation. He really hoped the  others were having better luck that he was, wherever they were. Nothing looked or smelled right. Was this even Hyrule? 

He thought about trying to switch back into Twilight again, then dismissed the idea; that coldness lingered in his bones, a warning. Tail low, Wolfie returned to the window, tilting his head one way then the other as he listened for... anything. Besides the occasional cicada and the low, unnatural hum coming from the sign, there was nothing. Even the breeze was gone. He studied the other building, straining to make out any details through the haze, when he saw a flash of movement by the farthest door. 

Before Wolfie could make out any details, there was a loud, pitiful, "Aaaahhhh!"

Wolfie didn't let himself think about it; he shouldered open the busted door and raced outside, drawn toward that fearful scream. The desert sand was warm underneath his paws, blessedly lacking in unnatural shadows. Within seconds, he reached the other building, and the haze cleared as though demanding witness to a piece of horror. 

A small, purple dog was tied to a post. He chewed frantically at the rope with yellow, rotting teeth, whining and moaning as the rope held. At the other end of the porch, speeding toward the dog with deadly intent, was a spider the size of Wolfie's head. 

"Oh no, oh nooo," the dog cried.

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

I’m Dating Spider-Woman

A/n: hey everyone! So the fic I posted last night was supposed to be a one shot but somebody made a comment that absolutely inspired me! So I had to make another part to the story.

Part 1

Warnings: lots of fluff! Feel good shit.

Word count: 1441

Concept: After telling Kate you’re spider-woman and admiring you have feelings for her you wanted to make sure she had the best Christmas ever.

Taglist: @imapotatao @kacka84 @sofisnn @hoeforwandanat @variant-l0852 @mellowladyangel @violetwitchmcu @m-zne237 @laaurrel @chloe7076 @miphas-trident @chickenlittlsblog @sapphic-girl @simp4haiz @hardwastelandbread @thorya22 @kassies-take

It had been about a week since you told Kate you were spiderwoman, more importantly it’s been about a week since the two of you admitted your feelings to each other. What you were hoping would be a week in paradise with Kate, a honeymoon phase if you will, turned out to be packed with bad guys and kicking ass. You helped Kate and Clint take down Kingpin and the tracksuits in order to clear their names and ensure nobody is in harm's way anymore. Clint’s mom was unfortunately wrapped up in some pretty bad stuff so she was put away in jail and this was going to be Kate's first Christmas without both of her parents. Clint headed back to his home to see his family and you knew you had to make this Christmas amazing for her.

Since you told Kate you were spider woman she has been obsessing over it. What she would give to tell the world she was dating spider-woman. While she already had feelings for you as y/n y/l/n before, everything was heightened when she found out. She has been BEGGING you non-stop to take her swinging around New York for the last week but you guys just haven’t had time because of all the bad guys running around. So, you knew you had to somehow work that into your Christmas plans for her. That and the infamous Spider-Man upside down kiss of course that we saw all over the news a while back when Spider-Man did it with some person. Since Kate was still your best friend before being your girlfriend, you had already gotten her some Christmas presents but there was one more you had to get that caught your eye. You were stopping a robbing happening in a jewelry store on 82nd street. While you were in between punches you noticed the most beautiful necklace. It was a small silver pendant that had a web engraved into it with a diamond sitting in the middle. You knew how badly Kate wanted to tell people she was dating spiderwoman and you figured this little necklace would be like your little secret with her. The meaning behind it, that is. So, on your way back to the apartment you pick it up in the most beautiful little box. You’re practically skipping to your place you were so eager.

Kate was at her mom's place all morning trying to clean out some stuff to bring home so this was the perfect opportunity to get everything prepared. As soon as you got home you set up the tree, wrapped all the gifts and even started baking some of her favourite home made cookies so that the smell was intoxicating as soon as she stepped through that door. Everything was perfect and you couldn’t have been happier. You could hear Kate coming down the hallway and her keys making noise as they entered the lock. You immediately got into position above the door. As she opened it, you slowly lowered yourself upside down.

“AHHH.” Kate screamed because you startled her as she managed to land a punch right in your chest.

You cough and drop to the ground not having expected that, she knocked the wind out of you.

“Oh shit— y/n I am SO sorry! I thought you were an intruder, I’ve been kind of on edge since fighting Fisk and I— woahhhhh did you do all of this?” She says gesturing towards the decorations.

“Yeah—” you say in pain.

“Shoot, I’m sorry.” She says trying to help you up.

“I just wanted to make sure that you had a special Christmas.”

“Wait— were you trying to do the upside down Spider-Man kiss thing with me?”

“Yeah…” you say awkwardly while scratching the back of your head.

“Awe babes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin that.”

“Kate, stop apologizing. I know you didn’t mean to punch me, love.” You say with a chuckle. “How about we just move past it and get this night started hmm?”

“Okay.” She says with a smile.

You pull the cookies out of the oven and they’re baking to perfection. You had a pizza on the way, one for you and one for the dog and margaritas ready to be made. As the night progressed you two had a lot of fun drinking, eating and you finally got around to opening presents. Kate was pretty tipsy by this point but your tolerance is incredibly high because of the spider powers. Watching her stumble slightly is adorable. She gets extremely affectionate with you when she’s intoxicated. All she wants to do is cuddle and kiss you all over the place. The two of you opened all your presents and there was wrapping paper everywhere. Kate was loving every single thing you bought her, and you the same.

“There’s one more gift.” You say extending your hand. Kate grabs it and stands up. “Follow me”

You bring her to the roof where you lay a kiss on her in the moonlight as snow is falling around the two of you. “Okay Kate, on a scale of 1-10 how drunk are you because I don’t need you puking on me.”

“Puking on you..? Wai— ARE WE GOING SWINGING?”

You just chuckle. “1-10 babes?”

“Hmmm a 3. I’ll be okay yeah yeah don’t worry! Let’s go!”

“Okay! You ready?”

“Ready.” She says in an eager tone.

You jump off the top of your apartment building with her arms and legs wrapped around you. You swing from building to building as you can hear Kate practically fangirling in your ear as you’re doing so. You swing to the top of the Brooklyn bridge where you set her down. The two of you felt like you were standing on the top of the world.

“Wow, y/n this is beautiful and this experience, my god it’s surreal.”

“This is my absolute favourite place to be. When I’m out doing spider-woman stuff and need to relax I come here or when I need to ever clear my head, I come here. It’s just the most relaxing place I’ve ever been and it probably helps that the view is so amazing. But now that you’re here with me, I have something so much more beautiful to look at.”

Kate blushes and tries to chuckle to hide how embarrassed she was from the shade of red she was turning. “Oh stop it, you’re so cheesy you know that?”

“I can’t help it. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh also I may have lied earlier…there’s one more gift I have for you.” You say pulling the jewelry box out of your pocket.

“Y/n oh my gosh this is too much you already gave me so much this Christmas.”

“Yeah yeah I know but those were all gifts I bought you before we were together. Now that you’re my girlfriend I wanted to buy you something extra special.” You say as you give her the small box.

Kate slowly unwraps the bow and and lifts the lid to the small box.

You see her eyes glaze over as she realizes what she’s looking at.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She says in the most heartfelt tone.

“I just thought that you knowing that I’m spiderwoman now was such a huge step for our relationship and I am so thankful that I have a friend now girlfriend that cares so much for me and keeps my secret. It really does mean the world to me.” You say trying not to get too emotional. “Here, let me help.” You say as she hands you the necklace. Kate turns around and pulls her hair to the side as you clip it together on the back of her neck.

“You look beautiful.” You say with a smile.

“I love it and you, so much.”

“I love you too.” You say. “Wait I’ll be right back—”

“Wha-What okay, I guess.” Kate says as you jump off the bridge.

You swing up to the top of the pillars above the two of you and slowly web yourself down. As you come down you pull something out of your pocket.

“Please don’t punch me this time.” You say as you hold a mistletoe out in front of you.

Kate turns around and just chuckles as she sees you hanging from upside down. She grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss.

This right here was the best moment of your life and you knew it was hers too.

— The End —

[blueathens]

Red Masterlist

Remember: I will be writing other fics along with these so just be patient with both, and some songs will take longer than other’s because of inspiration, so any help is much appreciated too. You can also suggest other people, but the ones above doesn’t mean I will add them to my general masterlist, they are just ones I’ll write for these songs. 

Attention: All stories that I write is purely fanfiction and when I write about real people it is once again purely fiction. I don’t know them in real life and all my ideas are my own. Also please don’t steal my work. Thank you.

Warning: Don’t steal my work thank you! Also all summaries are subject to change :)

Masterlist

State Of Grace - (Evan Buckley) ↬ Evan thinks he finally found a love to really fight for - only issue was that the woman he found this love for was with his friend with benefits.

Red - (Rúben Dias) ↬ After their break-up, Y/n recalls how loving Rúben was never as hard as she remembered.

Treacherous - (Eddie Diaz) ↬ Eddie and Y/n find themselves stumbling into his bedroom after a difficult day at work.

I Knew You Were Trouble - (John Stones) ↬ Everyone told her that John was trouble, but she still allowed him to hurt her.

All Too Well - (Mason Mount) ↬ “It’s not like you love me or anything, right?” Y/n scoffed, shaking her head once more as she brought her hand up to wipe the end of her nose. “If you did then you would have acted like I was somebody to you. But you didn’t. You acted like I was some sort of maid or something. You made me feel like shit in front of your friends. So you don’t fucking love me…do you?”

22 - (Steve Harrington) ↬ Y/n meets someone on her twenty-second birthday and decided to spend it with him.

I Almost Do - (Rúben Dias) ↬ “You wouldn’t,” Rùben argues as he stands in front of the bride-to-be. “I would’ve.” “No,” he denies. “I would have married you, Rúben.” Y/n whispers.

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - (Theodore Nott) ↬ Theo and Y/n have always been that couple in school that was always on and off, but her friends were sick and tired of seeing Theo hurt Y/n constantly, so this time they are making sure they break up sticks.

Stay Stay Stay - (Logan Huntzberger) ↬ Logan wants Y/n to come with him to London, but she just can’t do that.

The Last Time - (Jess Mariano) ↬ Jess is back at Y/n’s doorstep after disappearing another time, but this time he’s promises that he is back for good. 

Holy Ground - () ↬

Sad Beautiful Tragic - (Daniel Ricciardo) ↬ Long distance teared then apart, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still love one another.

The Lucky One - (Peter Parker) ↬ Three times Peter was there for Y/n Stark after hate from the media, and the one time she was there for him.

Everything Has Changed - (Arthur Leclerc) ↬ One moment they were just best friends. Best friends throughout each other’s lives, best friends within the paddock, best friends outside of the paddock, best friends that travelled together, and best friends who totally weren’t secretly in love with each other. They were just best friends who thought of each other’s touches as nothing more than platonic. But then his hand would linger on her back a second too long after a hug, and her eyes would stay glued to him for a moment too long, and their lips would be ever so close…enough to say that everything has changed.

Starlight - (Steve Harrington) ↬ After dropping Dustin off at the school dance, Steve takes this opportunity to convince Y/n to come with him to his favourite diner.

Begin Again - (Lando Norris) ↬ In which Y/n begins to fall for her best friend who has always secretly liked her.

The Moment I Knew - (TASM!Peter Parker) ↬ Y/n understand Peter role as Spider-Man, but she hated how it would always make him break his promises with her.

Come Back...Be Here - (Daniel Ricciardo) ↬ Long distance teared then apart, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still love one another. He wished for his lover to be with him instead of travelling the world without him - but instead of asking, he leaves unfinished letters in a shoebox in his suitcase.

Girl At Home - (Pierre Gasly) ↬ Pierre was taken but his eyes can’t stop gazing at one of his best friends.

Better Man - (JJ Maybank) ↬ Maybe at a different time they would have been better together, but JJ wasn’t truly ready for a relationship when he was still healing from home.

Nothing New - (Pedri González) ↬ Laying side by side, Pedri and Y/n come to the realisation that they don’t know the world as much as they did when they were younger.

Babe - (Lando Norris, ft Pierre Gasly) ↬ After finally making it official, Pierre shortly finds himself cheating on YIn, which ends up with Lando comfort her after finding her at the back of a party. (Sequel to Bejewelled)

Message In A Bottle - (Daniel Ricciardo) ↬ Daniel decides to send off his letters and Y/n find herself dreaming of returning back home. (Sequel to Sad Beautiful Tragic and Come Back…Be Here).

I Bet You Think About Me - (Marcus Rashford) ↬ Marcus watches as his ex perform her new song.

Forever Winter - (Daniel Ricciardo) ↬ Daniel wasn’t at his best after McLaren, and Y/n made it her mission to bring his smile back.

Run - (Steve Harrington) ↬ After sneaking out from home, Steve finds himself in Y/n’s bed, hands interwind as they fantasies of getting out of Hawkins.

The Very First Night - (TASM!Peter Parker) ↬ They were enemies but that didn’t stop them from falling, but like every fall, you will eventually hit the ground, and that time has came for them.

Safe & Sound - () ↬(AU!)

Eyes Open - (Charles Leclerc) ↬ (Footballer!Reader) (AU!Women and men can play together) Y/n L/n, one of the greatest footballers of all time, but at the age of twenty-three she hits a rough patch - which damages her mentally, physically, and emotionally. It goes downhill after she returns from an injury and gets called up to World Cup, where Southgate chose her to be his favourite benchwarmer and not play her for even a second (which was the final straw for fans). Back at Chelsea, the sport continues to do her wrong when Potter continues to put her on bench - and all her boyfriend, Charles, could do was watch as everyday destroyed her more and more. (Links with The Archer)

[angelixxsstuff]

Irondad & Spiderson Fic Masterlist Pt 2 🕸🕷🖤

5 Things That Change for Peter After The End of The World by ironspider

and one thing that always remains the same. The specific one I love to read is the one where Peter and MJ prank Tony, funniest shit ever. Lol ♥️

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.

Perfectly Parental by Bergan

Peter saves a little bit from drowning, and in the rush of it all, causes a little misunderstanding.

With Kind Regards and A Completely Serious Warning by Jennylarner

When shots are fired at Midtown Tech during the school's fortnightly assembly, Peter knows (or, is reminded by Ned) who he needs to call. Leading to everyone finding out just what Tony and Peter's relationship really looks like.

Downfall by ardett

Peter is being abused. Tony finds out in the worst way possible.

5 Times Peter Parker Pretended To Be Asleep by blondsak

Hearts Are Empty by Jwc

Peter is injected with Tetrodotoxin B.

Somebody Catch Him by wordscorrupt

Peter’s falling, and Tony has to catch him before it’s too late.

Infinite by wanttoread234

After being kidnapped Tony Stark is given the choice between saving Morgan or saving Peter. It's not hard to guess what option Peter encouraged.

A True Hero by stereks_fifth_nipple

Peter gets Tony something for Father's Day. Tony got him something as well... Sort of.

Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Did We Come Close To Having It All by forthenight

“What’s wrong, Mr Stark? What does it say?”

Tony didn’t respond. He didn’t even twitch. He just stared at the screen in front of him. There was no ransom note under the photo. No ploy or negotiation, it simply stated ‘Pepper’s life for Spider-Man’s.’

All Good Things Fall Apart by forthenight

"I have something of yours"

It took those five words to flip Tony's world upside down, but when he finds Morgan safe at school maybe all isn't as lost as he thought. Maybe.

More Than Okay by Icylightning

Peter cleared his throat "Mr Stark I..."

Tony raised a warning finger "Not. A. Word. Kid"

Peter sealed his lips lightly. Steve noticed this and wrapped an arm around the boy and frowned at his friend "Tony you're scaring him" he said protectively

"Good!"

Bullet Holes In My Spiderman by wolfpuppypiles

Tony shoots Peter, that’s it.

Every Fifteen Minutes by amatterofloyalty

Peter Parker was in a car crash—except... he wasn’t. One forgetful Spider-Kid, one sleepy best friend, and one misleading post on social media all lead to a disastrous turn of events, culminating in the arrival of an unexpected guest at Midtown High.