#hailxhydra

[imgoingtocrash]

my teen angst bullshit has a body count

by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents

Summary:

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.

Read on AO3

My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!

Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:

“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”

“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”

“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”

“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”

Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.

“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.

Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.

Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”

“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”

Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.

“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.

Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.

Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.

“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”

“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”

“Music endures, dude.”

“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.

“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.

Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.

Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.

In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.

(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)

Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.

“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

C’mere, Pet.

Stay down, Pet!

He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—

Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.

You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.

“Peter?”

He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.

His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—

“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”

He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.

“Peter, wait!”

Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.

He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.

The Spider.

Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.

As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.

It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.

Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.

That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.

Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.

But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.

Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?

All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.

Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.

But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.

Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?

Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.

Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.

So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.

An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.

That was Tony.

Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.

Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.

He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.

When he said his first words.

When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.

When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.

He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.

He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.

And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.

And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?

Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.

Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.

It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.

Maybe it’s something far worse.

Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.

At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.

The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.

A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.

Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.

“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.

The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”

“I’m sure his parents—”

“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”

“And you do?”

“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”

The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.

“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”

Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.

The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”

The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.

“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”

“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”

“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.

“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”

He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.

“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”

“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”

“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.

It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.

If Peter wants to see him, that is.

He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?

“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”

“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”

Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.

“Peter—”

“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.

Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.

“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.

The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.

It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.

Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”

Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”

Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”

“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”

Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”

“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”

“...But?”

“But then Flash—”

“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”

“No.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.

“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”

“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”

There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.

“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”

“Pet.”

Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.

“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”

“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”

“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”

Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.

“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”

“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.

“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”

Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.

“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.

He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.

“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”

“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.

If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.

“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”

“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”

Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.

“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”

Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.

He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.

He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.

“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”

Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”

Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.

“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.

“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”

He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.

“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”

Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.

Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.

They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.

“Feel better?”

Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.

“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”

“And if you wanted, I guess…”

Peter tilts his head, expectant.

“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”

“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.

“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself.  “An animal. Like a dog or something.”

Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.

“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“

Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.

“What kind of dog?”

[hailxhydra]

Can you please post the prompts to webpril before April 1st? That way we can write ahead?

Actually, starting on Sunday, March 28, I’m going to be posting previews of the prompts if people want to start working ahead of time? So the first 3 days of Webpril will be open to everyone early (since I am posting one per day)!

I’m going to post the real prompt list on March 31st, so participants have one catch-up day or to get ahead.

P.S. I’ll be posting all the updates on the official webpril blog!

[cailjei]

On the Similarities of Beasts and Men

Written by: @cailjei

Art by: @kerravonsen

Beta read by: @hailxhydra

Word Count: 7187

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairing(s): Bruce Banner & Loki

Character(s): Bruce Banner, Loki (Marvel), Other Avengers

Tags: Dragon Loki (Marvel), BAMF Bruce Banner, Angst, POV Bruce Banner, POV Loki, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Shapeshifter Loki (Marvel)

Summary: After Thor: The Dark World, Loki ends up on Earth, wounded and in the form of a dragon. Bruce Banner just wants to keep the world safe from a dragon that mysteriously appeared in the Black Forest.

[ao3feed-buckynat]

hold on | spiderman au

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qZprm0

by HAILxHYDRA

He wasn't like the other experiments. No, he wasn't like anyone else in the world. He was different. And that was bad.

But he was Hydra's most prized possession. And that was all he cared about.

He didn't need any trigger words. No, he was bloodthirsty. He was ready to kill. He craved the power to murder someone; to finally take out all of his anger on someone.

So when he is presented with one Natalia Alianova Romanova and one James Buchanan Barnes, why does that become so hard? And why does loving become so easy, if he never loved before?

Words: 81, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of hold on | spiderman au

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M, Gen

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov

Additional Tags: Angst, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Whump, Hurt Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker-centric, Protective Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Protective Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, BAMF Natasha Romanov

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qZprm0

[imgoingtocrash]

I posted 1,131 times in 2021

44 posts created (4%)

1087 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 24.7 posts.

I added 647 tags in 2021

#marvel - 276 posts

#star wars - 91 posts

#irondad - 48 posts

#lucifer - 41 posts

#tony x pepper - 40 posts

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#falcon and the winter soldier - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#like you hate to be that way but when you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing to protect yourself and others and it keeps happening

Slapping this under a Read More bc it would be a terrible dash clogger if I didn't (and I mostly just want this post for my own personal records) but I just want to say: Thank you so much for reading my fic, reblogging my gifsets, and just generally following my blog! I've been on tumblr a looooong time, and I still enjoy it just as much as I used to, honestly. This is a fun feature and I'm especially proud that the Pepperony Gifset with the Call of the Sea quote is my #1 post!

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

my teen angst bullshit has a body count

by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents

Summary:

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.

Read on AO3

My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!

Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:

“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”

“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”

“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”

“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”

Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.

“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.

Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.

Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”

“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”

Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.

“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.

Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.

Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.

“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”

“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”

“Music endures, dude.”

“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.

“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.

Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.

Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.

In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.

(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)

Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.

“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

C’mere, Pet.

Stay down, Pet!

He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—

Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.

You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.

“Peter?”

He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.

His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—

“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”

He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.

“Peter, wait!”

Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.

He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.

The Spider.

Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.

As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.

It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.

Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.

That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.

Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.

But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.

Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?

All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.

Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.

But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.

Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?

Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.

Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.

So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.

An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.

That was Tony.

Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.

Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.

He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.

When he said his first words.

When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.

When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.

He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.

He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.

And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.

And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?

Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.

Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.

It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.

Maybe it’s something far worse.

Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.

At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.

The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.

A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.

Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.

“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.

The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”

“I’m sure his parents—”

“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”

“And you do?”

“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”

The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.

“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”

Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.

The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”

The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.

“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”

“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”

“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.

“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”

He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.

“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”

“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”

“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.

It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.

If Peter wants to see him, that is.

He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?

“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”

“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”

Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.

“Peter—”

“Let him in,�� replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.

Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.

“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.

The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.

It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.

Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”

Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”

Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”

“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”

Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”

“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”

“...But?”

“But then Flash—”

“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”

“No.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.

“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”

“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”

There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.

“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”

“Pet.”

Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.

“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”

“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”

“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”

Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.

“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”

“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.

“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”

Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.

“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.

He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.

“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”

“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.

If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.

“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”

“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”

Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.

“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”

Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.

He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.

He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.

“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”

Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”

Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.

“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.

“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”

He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.

“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”

Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.

Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.

They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.

“Feel better?”

Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.

“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”

“And if you wanted, I guess…”

Peter tilts his head, expectant.

“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”

“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.

“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself.  “An animal. Like a dog or something.”

Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.

“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“

Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.

“What kind of dog?”

48 notes • Posted 2021-05-03 16:35:27 GMT

#4

Idc how we get there but peak slow burn partners-to-friends-to-lovers MacRiley will be them trying to go on a first ~official~ date and it getting constantly interrupted by Mission Shenanigans to the point that their actual first date is just ordering Thai food and watching Netflix because they’re friends first and sometimes after a hard mission you just want to relax and that can be romantic too!!!!

65 notes • Posted 2021-03-07 08:41:51 GMT

#3

Kiss full of color makes me wonder where you’ve always been

I was hiding in doubt ‘til you brought me out of my chrysalis

And I came out new

All because of you

Butterflies by Kacey Musgraves

66 notes • Posted 2021-11-05 00:00:33 GMT

#2

if people didn’t want me to dig in wayback machine/livejournal/etc. and find their deleted fics like some kind of detective, they would simply stop deleting their fics and orphan them instead

148 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 03:55:42 GMT

#1

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that, Mrs. Everhart. But if you love your husband that much, he certainly is a lucky man.”

“We are both lucky.”

- Call of The Sea (2020)

902 notes • Posted 2021-01-21 05:49:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[hailxhydra]

the more you say (the less I know)

By @hailxhydra​ for @iwritedumbshit​

via @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Steve Rogers & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers

Summary:  TONY STARK IS DEAD. The words were plastered on the front page of every newspaper across the world. Tony Stark, the resident genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist, was dead. Completely, irrevocably, unchangeably, dead.

Or was he?

OR

After the events of Endgame, Peter Parker decides he has to go back in time to save his mentor’s life, finds out that Tony wasn’t everything Peter thought he was, and chaos ensues.

“You sure about this, kid?” Steve asked Peter, coming up from behind him to clasp his hand on his shoulder. Looking out into the crystal clear lake and the surrounding forest, Peter gulped, trying to get rid of that unsettling feeling at the bottom of his stomach bubbling up until it overflowed, and he broke down right in front of everyone.

“What?” he said, swallowing the lump at the back of his mouth. Turning to face Steve, he shook off the hand on his shoulder, which immediately went straight into the pockets of his black pants. He glared at Steve, though obviously not in a malicious way. He was met back with a blank stare. The impassiveness of it was relieving; Peter didn’t need any more emotion from anyone, let alone the person who had abandoned his mentor for years, without a goodbye, nor some contact information. The bleak, vacant gaze held a sort of comfort for him, being something steady, something that he could hold on to while all around him, there was chaos. It was a lifeboat.

“Look, we’ve all been there. Believe me, I know what it feels like. I was in ice for seventy years. I lost everyone. But I had people to help me through it. You do, too. You don’t have to do this.”

“What’re you trying to get at?” he blatantly asked, rolling his eyes and turning back to the lake, the calm lake, the lake that had absolutely no problems, the lake that was steadfast and balanced, the lake that was everything that Peter wanted to be. “Are you implying that I might do something? I can’t change what happened either way, what with the implications, plus, the Grandfather Paradox is a bunch of bullshit, it just creates an alternate timeline, like with blue robot lady one and two, and anyway, how would that work without any local quantum interference? It’s crazy, I mean like-”

“I’m not talking about the science behind it. I can’t know what you think, but, looking from the outside, it is pretty clear what you want to do. Now, I don’t know if anyone else realizes it, and maybe it’s just because we’re so similar that I would have taken the same line of action, but you have family here. People who care about you. Just, spend a few minutes mulling over your decision. You have to be completely sure before you do anything drastic,” Steve said, starting to walk away after he was done.

“You’re really big on monologues, aren’t you? It’s a very 40s vibe you give off!” Peter called after him, a smile gracing his face in this tough moment. Steve just made a peace sign in return, his back still facing him, and continued his conversation with Sam. He looked around, taking in the serenity of the lake house. Tony had bought it during the Blip, so Peter had never gotten around to seeing it with him. He quietly stepped inside, making sure not to make any noise as to give away his position. He wanted solitude, without anyone barging in every few minutes to check in on him, or to offer him some juice, or to whack his head with a newspaper (although that last one was mainly Sam and Bucky, and he didn’t know from where they even got the endless supply of newspapers).

The inside was nice. A change of scenery from the dark outfits everyone wore outside. Built almost entirely of walnut wood, the lake house served as a reminder that he would never get those five years back. The five years, in which everything had changed. He wondered if May had gotten dusted, too. If she had gotten married again, or had a kid. They didn’t have much time before the funeral to catch up, always being whisked away to talk to one person or another. He led his fingers across the panels of wood, taking in the peacefulness inside. Feeling a presence creeping up behind him, he swiveled around to punch the person in the gut. He widened his eyes when he realized who it was.

Bucky Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, aka the White Wolf, aka the most dangerous man on Earth, was keeling over, hands on his midsection, looking like he was about to puke.

“OhmygoshI’msosorry,” Peter rushed, hands outstretched, but stopping in mid-air, as if he was rethinking his decision to help him up.

“Come on, kid. Why do you have to do that to a hundred-year-old man? Ever heard of ‘respect your elders’?” he groaned, stabilizing himself by putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders and lifting himself up.

Peter felt his cheeks heat up and turn scarlet before muttering a small, “I said I’m sorry.”

“What I came here to say was before you so rudely knocked me over, was that I think Bruce is firing up the machine. He wants you to suit up and get ready. It’ll be ready any time now,” Bucky said, giving a Chesire cat-like grin before turning away to talk to someone Peter didn’t know.

Peter laughed and shouted, “That wasn’t a good pun at all!”

Bucky looked back at him, gave him the middle finger, and yelled back, “I’m a hundred-year-old assassin, give me a break!”

Peter shook his head and turned to look at the suit in his hands. The suit itself was grey, with streaks of red running down it (the Avengers were very fashionable, to say the least). It had a leathery texture, but not quite leather; it was comfortable, yet effective at the same time. Most importantly, it would protect him from the quantum energy and radiation that came with time travel.

Looking at it, Peter felt unworthy, but, wearing it, he felt like he could do anything that he ever wanted. He felt like he was an Avenger. It wasn’t like anything else in the world. It was special. It was distinctly his, not anyone else’s; his.

“My wittle spidey is all gwown up now!” May exclaimed, smiling at Peter in his new time-traveling suit.

“May, I’m not a baby!” he pouted, stomping his feet on the ground, purposely acting immaturely. “I’m not your ‘wittle spidey’! I’m a grown-up kid!”

“Whatever, it’s fine. Just come with me. They’re all ready for your big superhero entrance.”

Getting there was a long hike. For some absurd reason, Bruce had decided to put the time travel machine smack in the middle of a dense forest, and it took quite a while, even in his super suit, to reach the destination.

“Peter? You ready?” Bruce (Professor Hulk) asked. He put his big green hand on his shoulder, and Peter felt something break there.

He suppressed a cry and said weakly, “Yeah.”

“You sure about that? One of us could do it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bruce gave a soft smile and led Peter over to the launching pad.

“So what do I have to do again?” he asked.

“Just stand there. Make sure you’re holding the stones and the hammer. You need to return those things at the exact time they were taken. If you don’t, it’ll-”

“Create another timeline, I know. That’s all I have to do. Just return the stones. To the right time. Okay, let’s do this.”

He stretched out his hands and legs and went to go and stand at the pad. Surveying the crowd, he caught a certain someone’s eye. Steve took off his hat, bowed down, and smiled at him. He gave a small thumbs up to Peter, reassuring him that this was the right decision. Peter cleared his throat, nodded a few times, and gave Bruce the signal.

“Five… four… three… two… one.”

“How long will it take?” Sam asked. “I need a break.”

Bruce looked at his monitor in confusion. Typing something into it, he showed Sam the calculations. Sam just raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not some science genius. You’re going to have to explain it to me.”

“He was supposed to come back in two seconds. He should’ve been back by now.”

“What?” he asked, although there wasn’t anything he could do, and he knew that. Steve smiled a bit and turned around to face the wilderness. Unfortunately, this action did not go unnoticed by Bucky. He lunged towards him and pulled him up by the collar. He raised his eyebrows to his hairline and gave Bucky a bewildered look.

“What did you do?” he threatened. Steve gave a smirk and raised his hands, surrendering. He shrugged (which was really hard, given Bucky was still holding onto his collar), and slowly took Bucky’s hands off of him. Once they were completely off (and into his jacket’s pockets), Steve huffed.

“I did nothing, Buck. It was his decision, not mine.”

“Will you tell us where he is?” Sam asked, coming up from behind them. Steve simpered, looking Sam straight in the eye.

“No, I’d rather not.”

“I know you did something you little piece of-”

December 16, 1990 || New York City

The streets of New York City were bustling with people trying to do last-minute Christmas shopping, the shops illuminated with strings of Christmas lights. Although the rain dampened the mood (in more ways than one), the crowd hurried from store to store, trying to acquire the perfect gift for their friends and family, brightening the otherwise bleak scene.

The women, clad in their voguish outfits of pantsuits and tinted oval sunglasses, directed their tired husbands to different toy stores, presumably to buy a set of some knick knacks and trinkets for their children. The little boys and girls dragged their mothers and fathers to various windows, pointing at the numerous playthings propped up in the front.

The teenagers, dressed in baggy sweatpants and flannel jackets and too many chains to look good, looked bored as hell, and were smoking in some neglected corner in the adjacent alleyway. They laughed, sending puffs of smoke billowing into the atmosphere, seeming so carefree in that small moment.

Muffled conversations could be heard throughout the streets, though no one was paying much attention to the stifled voices, choosing to focus on the more fortunate aspects of life. A man, speaking into his phone in hushed whispers, hugged his briefcase tight to his chest and sent out panicked glances if anyone came in close proximity to him. A woman, an unlit cigar hanging from her mouth, clutched her handbag, a small purse dog whining in it, and grinned at any unsuspecting young man that came near her. A young couple, looking like they were physically connected to each other, walked along the jam-packed street, sneaking in kisses as if they weren’t allowed to be seen in public with one another. There were, in total, at least a few hundred people in that small street, all trying to get away from the stress of day-to-day life.

Although it was a lighthearted scene down on the streets below the towering skyscrapers, the rain poured down onto the throng of people, the immense clouds covering the full moon, giving the place an eerie aura.

In an alleyway off to the side of the square, Peter dazedly woke up, scratching his eyes, just recovering from the gripping experience of time traveling. He had returned the infinity stones to their particular places and time periods. The soul stone to Vormir in 2014, the Tesseract to that old SHIELD laboratory in 1970, the time stone to the Sanctum and the Ancient One in 2012, the power stone to Morag, the Aether to Asgard in 2013, and the mind stone to the oblivious Hydra agents at the Avengers Tower in 2012. So, as you can see, it had been a really long day for Peter.

He groaned and raised his hands, only to find them covered in dirt and some wet, slimy substance he couldn’t remember the name of. It wasn’t just his hands; the whole alleyway was covered in this substance.

“Ew,” he groaned, making sure not to be loud, so that the horde of people wouldn’t see him. That would cause multiple complications in Peter’s plan, probably resulting in him being sent to an orphanage because they couldn’t find his parents. It could also be more drastic and he could end up in some government facility because his name wasn’t on any of their rosters. He might also have been classified as an alien, and that would definitely thwart his mission.

The pitter patter of the rain woke Peter up from his delusional fantasy, and, putting his palms on the damp, muddy ground, he stood up. Tip toeing out of the alley, he surveyed his surroundings in order to make sure no one was watching him, and wandered out onto the street. People shouldered their way through the crowd, always looking behind their back to see if someone was following them. Peter did the same, though for different reasons than them.

He walked along the street for a while, getting whisked away by the crowd. There wasn't really a place to go for him right now, so he just wandered around, window shopping (though he had absolutely no money), trying not to think about the past Christmas he spent with Tony, eating food until they threw up, and opening the presents they gifted each other, Rhodey, Pepper, and Aunt May.

There were a lot of… characters on the road. Some of them smiled at him very creepily, staring at him as though he were something enjoyable to eat for supper, and others were confused as to why a child, dressed up in a weird suit without his parents, was solemnly walking along the boulevard - Halloween had passed two months ago, and it was now Christmastime. One couple was kind enough (or evil enough) to hand him a Hershey’s chocolate bar. Not those bite-sized little ones that Peter used to get from Delmar’s or that one grocery shop in Queens. This one was king-sized. It could’ve lasted Peter at least a month if he were back in Queens in his apartment.

A sense of dread overtook him. The mission. He couldn’t fail it. No, he had to prove to himself that he was ready.

But what if he wasn’t?

He pushed his way through the mob of people. They stared back at him, eyes wide in shock. He didn’t care. He sprinted all the way across the road to the other side of it, shoving away the people who got in the way. He reached the empty wall, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

He puked onto the wall. The people moved away from him. His heart pounded in his chest. Blood throbbed in his ear. Holding onto the wall, he sobbed. The world seemed to turn fuzzy, and everything he saw was distorted, as if he were in a VR game that was malfunctioning. The wall in front of him turned wobbly. Instead of a straight wall, it was now a curved structure. The ground underneath him seemed to give out. He was falling. He was falling to his death. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t call for help. No one wanted to help him. Another round of bile seemed to erupt from him, and he puked even more of his lunch onto the wall. The world was ending. The world was ending, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

He couldn’t save people from dusting. It was his responsibility to save them. People were counting on him, and he let them all down. He let Mary and Richard down. He let Ben down. He let Aunt May down. He let Mr. Stark down.

He could hear people in the distance, calling for help. He also heard an indistinct sound of laughter. A familiar sound. This sound, unlike the multiple other people screaming, he knew. He knew this sound.

“Mr Stark?” he mumbled from force of habit, pausing to throw up for the third time. All the sound ceased. The tears didn’t, though. They continued flowing in wet, fiery streaks down his cheeks. He could see the crowd make a partition, though his vision was seriously warped. A teenager, probably around his age, walked through the space. He could hear the crowd whispering and pointing at him, although the other man paid no attention. He had to squint his eyes to see him, choking back a sob. He couldn't embarrass himself more than he already did. He cried violently, and the man crouched down and cocked his head to the side. Almost, but not quite, as if he was observing him. As if he was some experiment in a glass cage.

He sobbed harder, and he retched, wishing something would come out so the man would move away from him. The man just tilted his head to the other side and squinted his eyes. He looked at all the other people and shooed them away, and they obliged. Peter and the man were left in solitude, a small sort of bubble forming around them, giving them some peace and quiet.

“How do you know me?” he asked in a low, menacing voice that made Peter cry even more.

“I don’t know!” he bawled. “I’m sorry!”

The man picked Peter up by the arm and looked him straight in the eye. He couldn’t see well through the tears in his eyes, but the man looked truly scary. He heard some shouts in the background, cheering the man on. He grunted and threw Peter onto the ground, walking away to his group of friends.

Peter tried to pull himself up, but, through his severe panting and sobbing, he could not sit upright. He then resorted to lying on the murky ground (on which there were some questionable substances). Gasping for air, Peter tried to calm down.

Key word: tried.

The tears never stopped flowing. The memories didn’t, either.

Memories of Mary and Richard. Of how his last words to them were, “I hate you!”’ before they boarded that damn plane.

Memories of Ben. Of how he died in his arms, bleeding out from the gunshot wound, while he couldn’t do anything to save him.

Memories of how he left Mr. Stark for five years. Five freaking years. And, just as he came back from the dead, Mr. Stark had to go and sacrifice himself for the universe.

Lying there, on the ground, the crowd walking around him to avoid stepping on the child, he fell into a deep sleep, unbothered by the disgusted looks thrown at him by the supposedly “posh” people of New York City.

[hailxhydra]

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i post peter parker oneshots and my other spiderman au story

thanks!

[moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom]

Does anyone else want more of these or is it just me XD

Tag them mutuals @verose-queen-of-hell, @kurohiraeth, @palindrome-k, @viscountmelbourne, @everydoorsleadstoanotherunivers, @just-things-things, @hailxhydra, @sigynthevictorious, @anywhere-but-here-plz, @incorrectpeterparker

inbox open, send in something for this meme?

:)

[moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom]

Thank you for the tag @zoella-1017 ♥️

note: I kind of used my playlist that consists of literally just Mayday Parade and Scarlett Johansson songs

1) Fannin Street - Scarlett Johansson

2) Without the Bitter the Sweet Isn’t As Sweet - Mayday Parade

3) The End - Mayday Parade

4) All On Me - Mayday Parade

5) You Be The Anchor That Keeps My Feet On The Ground, I'll Be The Wings That Keep Your Heart In The Clouds - Mayday Parade

6) Bruised and Scarred - Mayday Parade

7) Everything’s An Illusion - Mayday Parade

8) Priceless - Mayday Parade

9) Happy Endings Are Stories That Haven’t Ended Yet - Mayday Parade

10) I Wish I Was In New Orleans - Scarlett Johansson

tags (no pressure): @handwithquill, @sigynthevictorious, @just-things-things, @incorrectgreekgods, @incorrectpeterparker, @athenadcvell, @caps-redwing, @funkylittlebidiot, @hailxhydra, @lokifae42, anyone who sees this and wants to join. :)

Music tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @amxnm !

rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to! put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people.

I used my “dancing music” playlist but it’s really just a random collection of songs that make me wanna dance/make me happy lol. Plus it’s like the only playlist I listen to haha

1- Tungs - The Frights

2- Killing Me Softly With His Song - Fugees, Ms. Lauryn Hill

3- Blister In The Sun - Trixie Mattel

4- Jenny from the Block - Jennifer Lopez

5- Get to You - The Honeysticks, Ricky Montgomery

6- Daydream - Jane’s Party

7- Arms Tonite - Mother Mother

8- Trouble Blues - Sam Cooke

9- Better - The Honeysticks

10- Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon

Sorry to anyone who’s already been tagged!!

@morgandevorak @crowtrinkets @a-random-packet-of-noodles @that-boy-needs-therapy @chubbywasouski @daisydevorak @shamylicious-blog @shepav3llan @thegoatmanswife @thosevesuvianthots

Also feel free to suggest any music to me because I basically only listen to Sam Cooke and random music I come across on socials that I like 🥲