#peter rea

[certifiedbi]

To my non-superbike people of motogpblr, I hope this showcases the significance of the TDOL photo

[prongsieeee]

sometimes i tell myself that this fandom actually isnt that bad and then i open this app or ao3 and am met with the most gut wrenching angst ive ever seen in my life

[sciderman]

a nice, gentle lad like spidey... like spider-man doesn’t wake up in the morning and decide “i’m going to ruin johnny storm’s day” for literally no reason at all

[ultraozzie3000]

A Decade of Delights

With this post (No. 413), we mark the tenth anniversary of The New Yorker. Since I began A New Yorker State of Mind in March 2015, I’ve attempted to give you at least a sense of what the magazine was like in those first years, as well as the historical events that often informed its editorial content as well as its famed cartoons. Those times also informed the advertisements; indeed, in some…

[willstafford]

Going Dark

RED VELVET Crescent Theatre, Birmingham, Saturday 13th July, 2024 Ira Aldridge earned his place in theatre history for being the first black actor to play Othello on the London stage.  This was back in the 19th century, before the abolition of slavery so, as you can imagine, he caused quite a rumpus.  Lolita Chakrabarti’s play, first produced in 2012, charts that experience. It begins in…

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

News/Announcements: M for Montréal Announces M for Marathon Lineup

News/Announcements: M for Montréal Announces M for Marathon Lineup @mpourmontreal @maurader

M for Montréal — M pour Montréal in French — is an annual conference and music festival which takes place over the course of four days in late November in Canada’s second largest city. Since the inaugural conference back in 2005, M for Montréal has expanded to feature a selection of over 100 emerging, buzz-worthy and/or breakout acts from across Québec, the rest of Canada and a handful of…

[aurorawhisperz]

little romance documentary

contains: swearing, fluff, use of y/n and a whole lot of dumb things.

tom!peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: the long-awaited rory comeback! and i’m in my spiderman phase so..the ethan landry stuff will have to wait.

summary: (based off the video diary scene in homecoming) a compilation of all things you’ve done with peter :3

“What are you doing?” You poke at the camera, causing it to shake a little bit. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to show that to the rest of the world.”

Peter shakes his head, “What? No, it’s a little behind-the-scenes thing. Video diary, documentary..” He tries to find the right word.

This is probably why you thought your father hiring someone your age was a bad idea.

“Right, who are you gonna show it to?” And all you can do is stare into the camera while he keeps on recording whatever’s happening in the fancy car.

“Oh, it’s just for me. For memories!” Peter moves the camera away from your view and makes it look like he’s in the spotlight instead.

You’re quite overwhelmed, so you give him a smile in return. “You can do a little introduction.. if you want.” He says with a grin as he makes the camera face you.

“Okay,” You clear your throat, fixing the way you looked. “I’m Y/N Stark, we are going to Germany, currently being driven by my trusty servant, Happy Hogan!”

Happy quickly interrupts the process, “And I’m not too happy with how you have the nerve to call me your trusty servant.” You roll your eyes at his words. “Whatever.”

“And I’m here with uh..Spiderboy!” You continue after a short while, Peter laughs, turning the camera back to himself before correcting the name, “It’s Spiderman, actually..”

The car speeds along the road, and everything felt okay. You were staring into the sun, enjoying and relaxing, Peter was recording you as you were doing so. Admiring how he was able to work with a really cool person..and his daughter.

Reporters and even influencers were calling you a privileged pretty girl, but he didn’t believe those people at all.

You look back at Peter, who’s quick to move the camera in Happy’s direction. You knew what he was doing and all you hoped for was that he didn’t capture a bad angle.

“Okay, okay, let's do this properly,” you say, taking the camera from Peter. “I'm Y/N Stark, the brains and beauty behind this operation. And this,” you turn the camera to Peter, “is Spiderman, our main character and friendly neighborhood hero in Queens.”

Peter gives a mock salute to the camera. “I’m here to save the day or, at the very least, make some pretty cool memories.”

Happy shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he focuses on the road ahead. “Just don't get yourselves into too much trouble, kids.”

“Trouble? Us? Neverrrr~” you say with a smirk.

This was also the start of a great friendship.

-

The camera flicks on and Peter’s face fills the screen as he grins mischievously. “Alright, we’re going to pull the ultimate prank on Happy. Wish us luck.” He whispers into the lens.

You appear next to him, just as excited, holding a box. “We’ve been planning this for a while. This is going to be EPIC.” You whisper.

The two of you sneak through the hallway of the lavish suite, making sure you aren’t attracting any attention. Happy was inside his room, absorbed by a movie, completely unaware of what’s happening as usual.

“Ready?” you ask Peter, who nods to the camera.

You press a button on a small remote, activating the surprise. Suddenly, the speakers hidden around the room begin to play the song “WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?”

Happy’s movie is long gone when it’s replaced by a compilation of embarrassing moments such as Happy looking into the fridge at three in the morning, him slipping on the floor, Happy trying (and utterly failing) to dance and getting scared by jumpscares.

He looks up, startled at first. “What the hell..?”

And that was your cue.

You and Peter burst into the room, laughing hysterically. “GOTCHA!” You shout, holding up the camera to capture his reaction. Happy was trying to suppress such levels of anger behind his crossed arms. “Really, kid? You’re involving the boss’s daughter OR SHOULD I SAY THE DEVIL’S OFFSPRING in your shenanigans?”

You both grin sheepishly. “Happy, relax..it was all her idea. I was just the accomplice, I was cool.” Happy shakes his head in disgust. “You’re lucky I have a sense of humor.” He says, holding up a finger as he walks to the bathroom. “THIS MEANS WAR!” Happy yells out.

“Bring it on, grandpa.” You tease. “You’ll never top this.” You and Peter high-five. “Think we need to wrap this up before he gets any other ideas..” Peter scratches his head as you turn the camera back to yourself.

Peter put on a cowboy-ish accent, “Until next time, folks. We are now signing off.” He tips his invisible hat, still grinning.

-

You’re on a plush couch next to the famous Tony Stark, sitting across from Peter who has the camera in his hand.

“Hey, nonexistent audience, welcome back to our comedy club! We’re here with Mr. Stark since this is a special episode.” Peter leans over at the camera, making him look like he’s upside down.

He pans the camera to you and Tony. Your father looked slightly bewildered and you were enjoying the spotlight.

“Thank you so much for joining us, Mr. Stark.” Peter settles down in front of the two of you. “First off, Y/N—how does it feel to be the daughter of Iron Man? Is it all..uh, glitz and glamour?”

You laugh, glancing at your dad. “It has its pros and cons. I still wanna sue that reporter for calling me a bitch.” Peter laughs at your words and focuses the camera on you as you go on and on about trying out the latest tech before it even reaches the world.

Tony raises an eyebrow at Peter and then looks back at you while you ramble about being a Stark.

“That’s a bit odd,” He places a hand on his chin, probably showing off his goatee. “My daughter likes to do solo projects, so it’s odd seeing you two of all people working together for this..video diary but if you’re out of trouble and it keeps Y/N happy, who am I to complain, right?”

You smirk, “At least Dad’s on board.”

Peter smiles, moving on to the next question. “Y/N, what’s one thing people would be surprised to know about Mr. Stark as a dad?”

You think for a moment, then grin. “He’s actually a big softie. He pretends to be all tough and serious, but he’s the first to offer a hug when you need one. And he makes the best pancakes.”

Tony chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re ruining my tough guy image, kid.”

Peter chuckles but doesn’t remove the camera’s focus from you. “And Mr. Stark, what’s one piece of advice you’d give to Y/N as she navigates her way through life?”

Tony’s expression turns sincere, his tone softening. “Always be true to yourself, buttercup. It’s easy to get caught up in what people expect of you, but at the end of the day, it’s your own integrity and heart that matter the most. And remember, you’re stronger than you think.”

You smile, touched by your dad’s words. “Thanks, Dad.”

Peter glances at his notepad, then back at the two of you. “Alright, final question. Y/N, what’s next for you? Any exciting projects or plans?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, he definitely caught on Peter’s not-so-secret intentions by now. “Well, I’ve got a few ideas in the works,” you say, smiling at the camera. “But you’ll have to stay tuned to find out. Can’t give away all my secrets now, can I?”

Tony leans back. “You know, Peter, you seem very interested in Buttercup’s plans. Any particular reason for that?”

Peter stammers slightly, his cheeks turning a bit red. “Oh, I just think she has some really cool ideas, Mr. Stark.“

You laugh, leaning towards the camera. “And you can bet we’ll be documenting every step of the way in our video diary.”

Peter grins, wrapping up. “Well, that’s it for today’s episode. Big thanks to Tony Stark for joining us. Until next time, keep watching for more adventures.”

As the recording ends, Tony shakes his head, smiling at the two of you. “You know, this might actually be a good thing. Just don’t let it go to your heads.”

You leave the room and the first thing Tony does is head over to Peter. “I’m not the kind of father to tell boys to stay away from their skanky little daughters but..don’t lay your..spider hands, spider legs, eight legs, whatever spiders have on my daughter.”

-

Peter sits on the edge of his bed in his hotel room, bouncing slightly with excitement despite the cuts and bruises covering his face. The adrenaline from the fight still runs through his veins. He can't help but giggle as he replays the battle in his mind.

There's a knock on the door, and before he can respond, you step inside. “Peter? You in here?”

“Y/N! You won’t believe what just happened, I met Captain America and I took his shield and I was like..” Peter puts on a deep voice as he runs his mouth even faster, “Hey, what’s up, everybody? I’m Spiderman from Queens and—”

“Okay, okay, you’re talking too fast.” You stop him but you can’t help but laugh at how enthusiastic he is about everything. “You probably looked impressive out there, Spider-boy, but are you okay? I mean-”

Peter’s grin widens and he interrupts, “I’m more than okay! IT WAS INSANE! I was out there with Iron Man, Black Widow, Captain America, Hawkeye and a bunch of new guys and I..” He stops when he sees how genuinely worried you are. “But yeah, I’m fine..really. Just a scratch.”

You can’t help but smile. “Alright, let’s see those ‘few bruises’ then,” you say, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to you.

This was the moment where you realized you were falling in love with him.

Peter sits beside you, still bubbling with excitement. “Okay, so there was this one moment where I webbed Cap’s shield and—”

“Wait, you webbed Captain America’s shield?”your eyes were wide. “Yeah!” His face lit up. “And then he’s like, ‘You got heart, kid,’ and I’m thinking, ‘Did Captain America just compliment me?’”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s incredible, Peter. But seriously, are you sure you’re okay?”

Peter nods, his expression softening a bit. “Sore, but good. It was just... so surreal. I’ve never been in anything like that before.”

You reach out and gently touch one of the bruises on his cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay. You did great today, Peter. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”

“I will, I PROMISE.” He gives you a little pinky promise, both of you linking your small fingers together. His excitement gave way to a more relaxed, contented smile.

As Peter finished talking about everything that happened at the airport in detail, you lean in and press a gentle kiss on his roughed-up cheek. “Goodnight, Pete.”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, nearly all of his blood rushing to his face. “Aww, thanks.” A blush creeped up his face.

As you stand to leave, Peter's gaze shifts to the table where the camera is.

His cheeks flush even deeper as he realizes the camera caught your goodnight kiss. He quickly reaches over to turn it off, Peter can't help but smile as he replays the moment over in his mind until he drifts off into sleep.

This was also the moment he realized he was falling in love with you too.

-

The two of you sat side by side on Peter’s bed, watching the footage from his laptop.

Suddenly, the scene transitions to the part where you kissed Peter goodnight. Peter shifts next to you, scratching the back of his head. “Um, so..that was uh, unexpected!”

You nod as well, “Totally unexpected.”

Peter clears his throat, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but straight into your soul. “I mean, not that it wasn't nice! It was... really nice. But, um, I just didn't expect it.”

You chew on your lip, trying to find the right words. “Right, yeah. I mean, it's not like I planned it or anything. It just... happened.”

There's a long pause when the awkwardness decides to stay forever. Finally, Peter breaks the silence. "I... I have to tell you something. Ever since we started this video diary, I kinda..uh, liked you. Not like a ‘you’re cool’ like but yeah! I..like-like you. More than just a general..likeness.”

You were caught off guard. “Oh, wow, that’s um, even more unexpected.”

Peter winces, his cheek turning as red as his suit. “Yeah, I know, it’s kind of out of the blue..sorry. I didn’t wanna make things weird because I work for your dad of all people.”

“No, it’s not weird..uh.” You shake your head, trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t feel the same way but uh-“

Peter’s eyes widen, “Oh, that’s alright, I mean, I wasn’t forcing you to like me back but—”

“NO! NO! NO!” You sit up and look down at Peter, “I do feel the same way, I uh..like-like you too but it feels like I care a lot more than you do..like I like you a lot more than you like me. Shit like that..”

“Really?” He breathes out, “You do?”

You nod, fixing Peter’s messed-up hair. “Yeah, I do.”

Before either of you can say anything else, Peter gets up, places the laptop on the other side and leans in hesitantly, his lips mere inches from yours. He looks at you, and all you can do in the intensity of the moment is nod. Peter closes the gap and captures your lips in a soft kiss.

He grabs you by the waist and has you straddling him as you try to deepen the kiss. Peter, considering your father, probably thought you had some experience but you didn’t. You, on the other hand, were thankful for the playboy genes kicking in so this wouldn’t turn out horrible.

It's awkward, clumsy, and completely perfect in its imperfection, just like how any other first kiss two people have should be.

You both pull away, breathless and wide-eyed.

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door breaks the moment, causing you both to jump apart in surprise. Aunt May's voice calls out from the other side, oblivious to the lovey-dovey moment within.

“Peter, dinner's ready!”

You share a sheepish smile, Peter realizes he’s not alone in his embarrassment. “Guess we'll continue this later,” you say, your cheeks still flushed.

“She makes terrible meatloaf, I just wanted to tell you.” He says as you get off his lap.

You look at the laptop next to Peter and laugh at the sight of Peter blushing and gushing like a fool after you kissed him that night. “I think we turned your video diary into a little romance documentary instead.”

“At least I’ll have something to show people when they ask how we met.” Peter shrugs and closes the laptop.

“You still can’t show that to anyone else, man..” You groan as you stand up, grabbing Peter’s hand to help him up.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

"'The words are in the elven-tongue of the West of Middle-earth in the Elder Days,' answered Gandalf. 'But they do not say anything of importance to us. They say only: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. And underneath small and faint is written: I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs.'" - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, "A Journey in the Dark"

@tolkienofcolourweek day 3: friendship + love || NARVI & CELEBRIMBOR

[ID: a picspam comprised of 18 images, fading in a gradient from blue, to teal, to green.

1: a close-up of Raul Samuel, a black plus-size model with dark skin who leans his head on his hands thoughtfully, looking down. He has a small mustache and beard, and wears a silver necklace and rings / 2: Blue fireworks at night / 3: A street of closely set blue houses, with lamps strung between them / 4: Blue text with a white shadow on a black background reads "narvi" in all caps, and below it, in a smaller blue font, "craftsman of khazad-dûm" / 5: An intricate necklace of blue gems and silvery metal / 6: Blue mineral deposits on pale rock / 7: An array of metal filigreed lamps / 8: The Doors of Dúrin, as seen in the Peter Jackson adaptation / 9: Teal text on a black background reads "for a friendship arose between Dwarves and Elves, such as has never elsewhere been, to the enrichment of both those peoples." / 10: Misty mountains covered with conifers / 11: Leather-bound books on green shelves, with a green ladder leaning against them / 12: A necklace of gold and green stones / 13: A close-up of a person making a ring / 14: A green jacquard coat with a green rope tied around the waist / 15: A cloister streaked with green lichen / 16: Same format as Image 4, but the text is green and reads "celebrimbor" and "lord of ost-in-edhil" / 17: Branches of holly, replete with red berries / 18: Marsella Rea, a mexican model with tan skin and dark hair cropped to her chin. She wears a white shirt with a tie in the back and looks over her shoulder at the viewer, her face partially hidden by her hair //End ID]

[ficthots]

Tracking

A/N: Wow, just yeah. I know it's been a long while since I posted for Peter, but like I promised, I was working on things for him and here it is! Now, I'll crawl back into my cave until my next writing is ready. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Word Count: 6.4K+

Time is a fucking thief. Really, it is. Waking up with the rising of the sun, getting ready to go to a job you despised, remaining in a windowless cubicle for eight hours, making dinner, then time to sleep again. Watching the clock as each passing minute was taken from you over and over again. Now when you throw being a superhero into the mix, it makes it even worse.

Holding down relationships, careers, any and all of the important things in life were always seemingly snatched away when it came to the personal life of crime fighting vigilante Spider-Man. That’s why when you entered his life it was like getting another opportunity to engage with time he had never experienced before.

Looking forward to coming home and eating dinner, stopping by on patrol nights to give you a goodnight kiss no matter what, to Peter Parker, he would do everything in his power to devote as much time as he possibly could to you.

Perhaps you were the time thief in his life now. Either way he didn’t mind when it came to you.

Were there times when it just simply wasn’t possible to shovel all of his waking energy towards you? Of course! The problems came when it had been that way for months. Yeah, you read that right.

In the span of four months, Peter had become so ravaged with his other entities responsibilities that his time with you was drastically rescinded. Unanswered text messages for days, not a peep from him for a week at a time, no more windowsill kisses. It was like he had vanished into thin air.

You understood at first. Hell, you had been dating the man for three years! What was happening, though, was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before. A group of men, identities undisclosed, were wreaking havoc throughout New York City. For months on end, like clockwork, every other week a crime would occur.

Each more gruesome than the last.

Peter had never really been on a deadline like this. Knowing that with each ticking second it was growing closer to the next attack. Spending all nights on the streets, trying to spot whoever could be responsible for this.

The worst part was that he had no leads. A few locations that were all pointless distractions. No semblance of an inkling as to who was committing all of these atrocities. In the span of time since their starting, over eight lives had been taken. A mind boggling number for such a short span of time.

Police were just as useless and he had decided to not take up any more time than necessary with them in tow simply because they weren’t taking this as seriously as they should have been. Instead of confronting the public, reminding them to be careful and not to wander alone past sunset, they were sweeping it under the rug.

Not wanting to cause a public disturbance. No need to fear monger they had told Spider-Man. Assuring him that all of those victims were tied to a gang in one way or another and it was criminal activity work. Something that he shouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on.

That was not a good enough answer for Peter. He didn’t believe them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure it was a group behind all of this. It could have been a serial killer that was on one hell of a spree.

There was no pattern with their victims either. Randomly selected from the streets. What you didn’t understand was why Peter was involved with all of this. Of course, you knew he wanted to do all in his power to save as many lives as he could, but you warned him to be careful after the initial police warning.

Sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong was not going to end well. It had been the first time you two had argued to that extent. Shouting at the top of your lungs you weren’t ready to lose him and that’s what you were afraid was in the works.

He called you silly for thinking such things. That you needed to have more faith in him than you were giving. It still didn’t answer why he was so invested in this. You knew there were details he was purposely not giving you. Maybe he didn’t want to frighten you or maybe he thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but to you, you were a partnership, a pair.

All you wanted was to have Peter back around. Who knows, you might be able to actually help him if he came to you and showed you what he did and did not have. Instead, he hid it from you. Becoming cold and aloof. Distant and consumed.

If there was something you knew about Peter it was that he did not like being bested. Truly holding himself to a standard that was near impossible. Knowing he was above average intelligence, to put it lightly, when people tried outsmarting him, it was always a humorous effort. No one bested Spider-Man.

This time, they were.

Following that night of your monstrous bickering, you hadn’t seen or heard from Peter in over a week. Honestly, you weren’t making much of an effort yourself. Having no interest in being around him when he was in a head space like this. Knowing that there really was no way to help him if he presented nothing to you.

Peter on the other hand was not okay with you going dark on him. Despite knowing that the clock was dwindling down before their next attack, it was the first time in weeks you had been at the forefront of his mind. The little voice in the back of his head was telling him he needed to smooth this over with you or he would regret it.

Which is why he was climbing into your living room window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, opting to take the night off even though it could be a crucial turning point. He ended up convincing himself it would be alright because if he didn’t have a direction to go in an hour before arriving at your apartment, then hunting tonight was pointless.

He didn’t have a direction.

Even though you hadn’t spoken to Peter, your thoughts were consumed by him as well. What was the bit of information he wasn’t giving you? Was there even anything he was leaving out? There could be the slim possibility he had actually divulged all he knew to you. But you knew better than that. Peter was hiding something, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

The notes.

Discovered next to each of the victims he had come across. Given he was the only individual to find them and when he tried bringing it to the attention of the police, they had shrugged him off. They were trying to get to him.

Sheets of white printer paper, the typical horror movie fashion of assembly. Varying letters from magazines, newspapers, old letters, all taped and pasted on the paper in a note. Each one was different, but told in a fashion of a word problem. Some were like riddles.

Either way, with each new victim that appeared, so did a new note. It was one of the things he dreaded the most. Seeing what possibly innocent person had been selected in order to deliver the paper to him. His stomach turned just at the thought of it.

Tonight was not for that, though. Instead he chose to bury it in the back of his brain and spend some much needed time with you. So why weren’t you home?

If there was one thing Peter knew and loved about you was that you were a schedule person. Totally type-a, your day planned to perfection and given it was just after six o’clock that evening, you should’ve been in the kitchen plating your dinner.

Except, there was no you in the kitchen, there was no music or television playing in the background, it looked as though nothing had been touched all day. Until he stepped further into the kitchen.

When his eyes darted over to the corner of your counter, partly covered by your fridge, he froze. There it sat. An uneaten bowl of cereal. The milk on the counter next to it, the cereal box still opened and there.

As he approached it, observing the contents, you hadn’t even gotten a spoon out yet. It was filled to the brim, more so than you would’ve liked, but given it hadn’t been touched some of the cereal had inflated from the milk.

“Bug?” His voice, calm and collected echoed out into the quiet flat. Finally prying his eyes away from the alarming sight he had just seen, he was stumped. Everything else in the living room and kitchen was exactly as it should have been.

Maybe you were running late this morning and didn’t realize until after you had made your breakfast. Yes, of course! That’s exactly what it was.

Peeking into your bedroom, his heart rate decreased, a sense of relief and ease settling over him at the entirely bogus reasoning he had used to calm himself down. Until the most unusual sight of all was spotted.

Your phone sitting soundly on your nightstand, still connected to the charger. His hand rubbed at his closed eyes, trying to will his breathing to return to a normal rate. Tapping the screen, it lit up with dozens of texts. Some from Peter, some from coworkers, a few missed calls from work.

Never would you ever forget your phone. Never would you ever not put the cereal back in its place. Something was wrong.

His trembling hands removed his own phone from his pocket, before entirely losing any semblance of sanity, he dialed your boss’s number. It picked up on the third ring and Peter did his best to sound as normal as he could.

“Hey, Guy! It’s Peter Parker,” he was instantly cut off by his chipper voice on the other end. “Peter! How the heck are you?” He sighed, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Great, great. I just have a quick question for you,” as Peter asked if you had made it into work today, Guy responded fast.

“No, actually she didn’t today or yesterday. Didn’t even call. It’s not like her at all. I think a few of her team members tried texting her and didn’t hear from her either. Everything okay?” It was the worst thing he could have been told at that moment.

Clearing his throat, he tried to remain calm. “Mhm, yeah, yes. She’s just, uh, very sick. It might be a few days before she’s well enough to get back to the office. I didn’t call earlier because I wasn’t sure if she had or not.”

Guy’s laugh of relief was palpable. “Whew, thank goodness! Okay, well tell her to rest up and we’ll see her when she’s all better.” Thanking him and quickly ending the call, Peter tore your apartment upside down.

Any clues he could think of, any sign of forced entry, anything at all. But there was nothing. It was all still in the pristine condition it had been left in. Not a single thing out of the ordinary despite the two big red flags. Even going through every app on your phone, just in case, but it was fruitless.

Alarm bells were chiming in his head, he knew something was wrong. He knew you were in some sort of danger. He collapsed on your couch, wracking his brain for anything that could have given him something to work with.

Then he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye. A small piece of white paper stuck to the tongue of a running shoe you never wore. Turned on its side. He couldn’t remember if he had knocked it over during his rushed search of your apartment, but as he picked it up, his blood turned to ice.

Taped to the shoe were the letters he dreaded seeing. Had been haunting him in his sleep for weeks. When he could sleep that was. Unlike the others, it was almost a clue as to where to go next. His eyes quickly saw the time and knew they were going to strike again soon. Far too soon.

One step forward, three steps back, find her quick before she’s the next attack

It was an anger unlike anything he had ever felt before. Not when his parents had died, not when uncle Ben died, it was so overpowering, Peter truly didn’t know how to control it. Darting out of your window, knowing he was on limited time, he began his search.

A near pointless search. A pill that was hard to swallow. Knowing the chances of actually finding you were so slim. He had the list in the back of his mind, places he had scouted previously that he knew they had used at one point or another.

That was the only thing he could think to do. Which is exactly what he did. Searching one by one individually, spending no more than thirty seconds to one minute at each location before going down the list. Did he destroy some of those places during his searches? Absolutely.

He only grew angrier with each location he arrived at that you weren’t in. His hope was running out. Knowing he was at the last two possible places you could be at that he knew about. It was an abandoned warehouse by the river. The first place he had ever tracked them to, but it was far too late when he made his discovery. They had been out of there for over a week by the time he found it.

They were always just a few steps ahead of him and it drove him mad. His masked face searched the premises from what he could see. Through one of the partly shattered windows, there appeared to be a figure on the far end of the building.

A single light shining on them, their back facing where Peter stood. Sitting in a chair, only a wisp of a shadow, no identifying features to be made out. Assuming it was going to be a fight he was about to step into, Peter broke the remainder of the window and launched himself in.

Eerily silent. No noise in the entire building apart from the howling wind outside. It was beginning to become mid-fall in the city and it was always your favorite time of year. No one was enjoying the crisp autumn air that evening.

It was unbearably stuffy in there. No fresh air had swept through the place in years. The stale scents made that abundantly clear. Peter hesitantly approached the figure, the lighting just so he couldn’t make anything out until only a few hundred yards away.

The minute he saw the tied hands behind the back of the chair, his heart soared. “Bu-bug!” His voice shouted, relief flowing off of him in waves, but they came crashing down just as fast.

He wasn’t even sure if it was you. Incredibly deformed from obvious beatings, your face was swollen, bruised, and bloody like he had never seen before. The zip tie around your wrists had cut into the skin, pieces of flesh hanging from it.

As he looked down, the sticky floor was a deep crimson, continuing to pool from your countless open wounds. No shoes were on your feet, they too were cut and dangling from your seated position, totally limp.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was in your mouth as a makeshift gag, but whatever it was had been there so long, your skin was raw and bruised around it. It was the first thing he removed and as he did, your chipped teeth entered his view.

A blanket was draped over you that was covered in things Peter did not even want to begin to imagine. It was the next thing he went to remove, but he halted the moment it was off your body.

There, stapled to your bare chest, was his next note. The same haunting letters, covered in either your own or someone else’s blood. Based on the missing fingernails, he assumed it was a fight you had given which made him silently pray it was someone else’s, yours already spilled too much.

It took him a second longer than he realized to see that your toes were mainly all facing the wrong way. Your arms bruised from newly broken bones, legs in the same condition.

His trembling voice was the first thing you heard as he cut the tie from your hands, whimpers and choked cries trying to escape your hoarse throat. Immediately going limp, Peter caught you. Your body was convulsing in ways he had never seen, unable to open your eyes and see that Peter had found you.

His tears made heavy tracts on his sweat riddled skin. His gloved hands smoothed over the inflamed sections of your face. “I’m-I’m here bug, I got you. I found you, baby. I got you, okay? It’s okay now, baby.” Despite knowing how difficult and incredibly painful his next actions were going to be, he had to get you out of there.

Medical attention was the only way you were going to be able to survive. That meant Peter was going to have to carry you to the hospital. No possibility of emergency services being able to get to you before it was too late.

He was right. Had he waited for emergency services you would have died. You had been in the hospital for three weeks now. Finally in a state where you were fully conscious, despite the pain that never subsided, you were doing better than everyone thought.

It was unclear how long you had been in their “care” before Peter had found you. Based on the little memory you had from the snatching, it was assumed you had been with them for at least forty-eight hours, possibly more.

Peter hadn’t left your side since. Growing tired of hearing the nurses and doctors praise Spider-Man for having found you and saving you when he did. Hardly. He had hardly saved you.

In fact, this was his fault. It was the conclusion he had made. His careless and reckless behaviors had led them straight to you. He hadn’t spoken to you in a week and look what they had done. They thought they had killed you. There hadn’t been another attack yet. It meant nothing though.

No, the note left for him said otherwise. You’ve made it three steps back, how long until the grand final act?

Peter was frightening you. Since you had been awake and aware of what was happening, he had hardly spoken to you. The deep purple bags under his eyes were only growing worse, skin a sickly gray you had never witnessed in a human before, face hollowing out from lack of rest and food.

All he did was write in his notebook.

Curled up in a chair, he stared at the pages for hours on end. Occasionally writing and scribbling in it. His eyes never rested, constantly darting around the pages. It had been weeks of this. Total silence from him, not sure how to talk to him when he was like…this.

It was another late night in the hospital, having drifted in and out of painful sleep all day. Based on the lack of staff and visitors present, you assumed it was the middle of the night. The hospital floor just outside your door was quiet. An easy night for the staff, you thought.

Trying to figure out how to eat a pudding cup, one of the only things you could keep down, was your current task at hand. The tv playing with hardly any sound, it being the only main light in there, Peter silently re-reading whatever was in that book. That was the current mood of your room.

Eating was difficult. Only having three working fingers on your non-dominant hand, luckily one being your thumb, you struggled to pick up the spoon, also knowing you couldn’t move your arm to bring the spoon to you or bend over to get closer to consume anything. Just trying to move to secure the spoon in your mangled fingers had you on the verge of tears, losing your breath along the way.

You could do nothing without help. Not wanting to ask Peter for any assistance because of how poor his mood was. That was where you two currently sat with one another. Scared to speak to him more than absolutely necessary. Hardly speaking since being here.

His eyes briefly glanced at you before realizing what you were trying to do, throwing his notebook onto the side table. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you even trying to do, bug?” His voice was soft, a slight laugh in his voice, exhaustion evident with each word spoken. Taking the spoon from your hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed, beginning to bring it to your lips.

It was silent until your eyes darted back at the book, deciding to take a leap. “Whatcha writing?” Your cracked, gravelly, and weak voice echoed through the silent room.

It made him want to revert to a blind rage attack. Your voice that was usually so full of life and excitement. Strong and loud that could command an entire room with only a few words. Now, he could hardly hear you, understand you, look at you. Jaw clenching at the question, his teeth grinded together.

When he closed his eyes, he saw visions of you beaten in that warehouse, left for dead. The immense pain you had been suffering through ever since then. Scars that would never fade, both physically and mentally meant he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Not until he found them.

Your face was doing better, still black and blue, but healing. Able to open your eyes and look at him despite the popped blood vessels. Bandages littered every inch of your skin, wrists tightly wrapped with special medicine for the skin loss.

“Notes,” he murmured, eyes darkening as you asked your question, obviously not wanting to speak about it more. Changing the topic as your pudding came to an end, his hand brushed through your hair, knuckles lightly brushing against your cheek. “What do you need? Anything?”

It was silly. A simple question to see if you really did need anything. It didn’t stop the tears from hurriedly falling down your face. “Yo-you, Peter. I need you. I don’t know where you’ve been, but it hasn’t been here with me. I feel like I’m healing on my own. Like you’re not even here. You sit in that chair, staring at that notebook for days on end. You’ve hardly looked at me, spoken to me, listened to me. Please, just come back to me. Please, Pete.” It was borderline begging, but months of pent up frustration had broken the dam.

Peter’s heart continued to crack with each additional word you said. Realization of what he was doing to you, slamming into him all at once. He nodded, chin resting on one of the side rails, sniffling himself. “I’m here, bug. Whatever you need. I’m so sorry.”

Your only non-fully broken hand you extended towards him, wincing in pain from the movement. Scared to touch you, he only placed your hand back down, removing the side rail to get as close as possible to you.

The rest of the night, you two sat chatting ,watching whatever movies you wanted. It was a glimpse at the man you had seemingly lost all those months ago. Peter was back.

You were released from the hospital just shy of a week later. Peter’s plan to nurse you back to health was his moving in with you. While it was just supposed to be while you recovered, you two ended up enjoying it so much, he was now permanently living there.

It felt like your relationship was shooting by leaps and bounds, spending time together like you had never experienced before. Him being there when you went to bed at night and his face being the first thing you spotted when your eyes opened was a treat you didn’t know you needed.

Feeling content, cared for, respected, and loved like never before. Peter admitted, with your confession to him in the hospital about how distant he had become, tore him apart. He had never seen you moved to tears in such a way, especially over him.

He didn’t realize how deep he had been sucked in until that moment. From then on, Peter swore to keep his other persona on the sidelines for a bit whilst you healed and needed him. Did that mean he was going to stop being Spider-Man in the meantime?

Of course not. It meant that side of him was reserved for the span of time from when you fell asleep to about forty minutes before you would wake up in the morning. Absolutely clueless as to the fact that he had been out all night.

Hunting. Stalking. Tracking.

It was the first night in which you didn’t need him to help lay you down in bed. Peter knew his sleep schedule was already fucked, each time his eyes would drift shut all he could see was you strapped to that chair, nearing death.

And the fact that he hadn’t caught them.

Keeping him up at night, when he could sleep it was plagued by nightmares. Peter knew that there was no opportunity for him to rest while these scumbags were still wandering the streets, looking for another prey to select for their sick games.

Which is why he was doing this without you knowing. Not wanting to worry you and cause you further stress. No, Peter could do this. Would do this. Had to do this. He had made amazing moves. Truly spectacular given the place he had been stuck in before.

They had no idea he had found them, watched their every move, plotted what he was going to do to them. Honestly, when he first spotted one of the three he had discovered had been involved in your…incident, it took every ounce of strength he had to not murder the man right then.

He had to remind himself that all he had to do was provide some patience and the reward would be unlike anything he imagined. And imagine he did.

It was what plagued his thoughts every single day as he watched you hobble around such short distances that only offered pain and tiredness from. His eyes would drift over your still bruised skin as he helped you bathe and it was like witnessing it all over again.

Your hand would tip his chin up, forcing him to lock eyes with you. It was nearly impossible to not see the sadness and hurt in his eyes. Disappointed in himself for letting this happen to you. It didn’t matter because what had happened was now in the past and all you were looking forward to was healing.

The emotional and traumatic scars left on you were not easy to mask. Perhaps that was another reason why Peter was so furious as well. If he moved too quickly behind you, you jumped and a small scream would follow. Trembling for upwards of an hour before settling down. Peter would have to tell you small things to gather your thoughts.

Feel my hand? I`m right here, bug. Here, I want you to use the remote and put on whatever you want. You feel the couch under you? You’re home, baby. You’re safe.

If it weren’t for Peter, you weren’t sure what you would do. He was your rock, your other half, offering reason for unreasonable thoughts. He was your Peter.

The rain was pattering against the window, a sort of white noise you weren’t expecting tonight, but were grateful for it nonetheless. It helped you drift off to a dreamless sleep, exhaustion from trying to do some basic things today taking too much out of you.

Peter was already out of the house before he knew you were soundly asleep. He couldn’t risk being late. Tonight was the night.

Weeks of following them, understanding and breaking their odd patterns, he watched as they went according to plan perfectly. A construction sight for a new high rise. This was their new rendezvous sight for the next attack.

There wouldn’t be another attack.

Counting silently in his head, as he saw a flicker of a small light near the top floor, his count was perfect. They entered exactly on schedule. Crawling down the side of the building and using the thunderstorm to his advantage, he shattered a window a few floors up.

There was no other way that he knew of other than how they had entered and that was far too risky as they had all other doors blocked. As he slowly descended the staircase to scout the floor and determine which room they were in, his hair stood on end as a voice hit his ear.

Three of them. All there. The monsters who were behind your attack. Simply waiting for him.

Except, they didn’t know they were waiting for him. No, tonight was a setup night. Preparation for the coming days of their next plan. Peter had determined fairly early on it was not going to be their final act like they had claimed.

The door was kept slightly ajar with a cinder block, no handles on them yet meaning if it closed, there was no way out for them. Which was their plan for their next victim. Leave the poor soul trapped here with no means of getting out alive.

Peter’s skin was crawling, every instinct shouting at him to just do it. End them now. It would be so easy. He shook off those thoughts, knowing his plan was the correct one.

He dropped to the floor behind them, one of them catching him out of the corner of their eye, a smirk taking over his face. “Spidey boy finally found us, boss.” The thick accent made him hard to understand. Peter kept silent. Very silent.

The other two turned to face him, matching looks on their hideous faces. “How’s your girl? You otta be more careful next time or she could get seriously hurt.” A chuckle escaped them. Peter still didn’t move, watching them from a few paces away.

Quickly deciding they weren’t a fan of the silent treatment, the largest man in the center who Peter knew to be their ringleader drew his gun. In the blink of an eye, web flew towards the gunman, pinning the weapon to the wall behind him.

“Come on now, you didn’t think I knew what you have on you? Just like how I know tweedledee over here is about to throw a knife at me,” Peter ducked out of the way as the blade hurdled towards him. “Now how about we all play nice and introduce ourselves?”

An over exaggerated sigh escaped Peter’s lips as the three men darted towards him, but he acted quickly, webbing them to the surrounding walls, letting one approach him to fight him. “Guess not. Okay, then. I guess I’ll be the one making the rules tonight then.”

Peter grabbed the three chairs from one of the corners of the room before leisurely strolling towards the door and pushing the cinder block from the opening. He whistled a made up tune as he removed them one by one, webbing them to the seats to the point of them not being able to move an inch.

“You know, it’s such a shame sometimes that I wear this mask because I would love you guys to see how big of a smile I have right now. Scouts honor, I am overjoyed that we finally get to do this!” He took his own seat directly across from them.

His head scanned them before pointing at the one on the right. “Let’s start with you bumblebee. What’s your name?” His black and yellow striped shirt was what appointed him his nickname. “You think we’re going to talk? I have nothing to say.”

Peter nodded at his words before looking at the other two. “Same goes for you two then, I assume?” When they didn’t respond, instead only seeing spit hurl towards him, he dropped his head, shaking it. “Such a shame. Alright, last chance. Just give me a name.”

Silence.

A shrug. “It brings me no joy to resort to this, fellas. I’m truly not a violent person. I pride myself on being as gentle as I can be. " He began pacing around, his chair discarded behind him now. “Igor, Viktor, Sasha.” He pointed at each of them individually as he divulged their names.

He gave himself a small satisfactory pump into the air at his success. He could tell he was correct by the little one on the lefts eyes growing slightly wider. It was just the start. As Peter continued on, he got tiny tidbits of information. Only when he presented to them what he knew. Which at this point was everything.

Names, date of births, addresses, spouses, children, education records, dental records, you name it, Peter had it. It still wasn’t enough to get them talking like how he wanted. Instead, Peter fell into the second part of his plan earlier than he had expected.

With seven toes, five fingers, three teeth, many beatings, and an ear, they were beginning to squeal. The leader, Igor, was suspended from the ceiling by his bound hands submerged in webbing. He was entirely nude, body cut up in ways that had blood spilling from him ferociously.

Viktor was webbed entirely to the floor, his entire body covered in fluid despite only one singular nostril. He was the one who cracked first which Peter expected after his reaction to his grandmothers home address in his tiny village in his home country. It was quickly discovered that he was mainly an action man, simply doing what he was told, not a mastermind of any sort.

The other one, Sasha, was who most of the beatings had gone towards once Viktor had divulged it was him who had mainly been the culprit in your beating. Webbed to the wall with no chance of escape, Peter mimicked all the injuries you had sustained on him and then some. Just missing a few fingers and toes now as well.

As the night drew to a close, Peter admired the work he had done. He wiped his gloved hands in a motion to signify he was wrapping up. They were hardly conscious enough at this point to understand what was happening to them. To understand the fate they had drawn themselves to.

There was just one final thing he needed to do. Grabbing the needle and thread he brought with him for tonight and tonight only, he walked slowly towards the nude man. “Did you know that I sew all of my suits? Crazy right! How in the world does he have the time to do this, you might ask. It’s a valid question, but you know what, if I took it to lets say a seamstress, I would be unbelievably broke. Not to mention, how does one drop off the Spider-Man suit without drawing suspicion. First world problems, am I right?” 

The man didn’t respond, but as Peter pierced the needle into his skin, his yelp rang in Peter’s ears. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t be moving around now, you’ll make my stitches go all out of wack here.” Peter took his time, but as he finished he admired the handy work.

Sewn into the man chest was a letter of his own. Crafted just for them. A message curated specifically for their enjoyment.

“How time flies, boys. Suns coming up here shortly. Time for me to be heading out.” He smashed a window, ready to crawl out, but he remembered one final thing he needed to do. Walking back over to Igor, he pulled his head back by the hair on his scalp, making him look into the bug eyed mask.

The whimper that fell from the grown man was laughable to Peter. “If you or your dogs come near anyone I love again, our next visit will not be as enjoyable as this one. If you get out of here, I mean.” Tears fell from the corner of his eyes as Peter released his head to fall back into its resting position.

“See you later, guys! Make better choices!” He called out behind himself as he crawled out the window, webbing it shut behind him before making his way home to you.

It was the first time in months that Peter felt like he could breathe. Taking in the fresh morning air, just minutes before the sun began to peak on the horizon, signaling the arrival of a new day. His lungs expanded with the deep breath of air, wanting to sob at the weight removed from his shoulders.

As he made his way back into the apartment, he spotted you in bed. Still curled up in the comforter, sound asleep, none the wiser of his whereabouts the night before. The brusing getting less and less noticeable by the day.

When he crawled into bed next to you, he refused to fall asleep, not tired in the least. No, instead as the sun began to shine through the curtains, he watched you. Watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath, grateful you were taking those breaths.

Because Peter knew that it wasn’t long ago where those breaths weren’t guaranteed. Now, he counted each one, to make sure you were okay. Of course you were okay now. Peter just needed to make sure.

It wasn’t too long after when you began stirring, eyes blinking open to see his golden eyes staring down at you with the softest gaze Peter had ever had. “Morning,” you mumbled, he whispered it back to you.

“You sleep okay?” He asked, to which you nodded, asking him the same. “Of course I did.” You smiled, getting up and ready to start your day.

You just needed to pretended you didn’t see the bruises adorning his knuckles. “What’s for breakfast?”

[orchideous-nox]

what kind of books/movies do you see everyone reading/watching???

I love yapping about books and films, anon, how did you know?

Okay AHHHHHHH so many thoughts. I'm going to include modern films though

Remus - I think he loves Lord of the Rings (both the films and the books) and some Greek Mythology classics like The Odyssey and The Iliad

Sirius - Boy doesn't read. What's a book? Films though, I think he likes a good action film. Maybe something like Bullet Train with some comedy in there, or like John Wicke and he spends who whole time like "Keanu looks so good in a suit, don't you think?" and stares until you agree.

James - James says that he likes films like Blade Runner, but when he's home alone he's watching Krrish. I could see him being into Star War too. In terms of books, I think he prefers non-fiction or maybe like a sci-fi book, idk too much about those.

Peter - As a kid, he was reading Goosebumps like there was no tomorrow and loved the Swiss Family Robinson. I think he'd also like Star Wars with James and maybe Indiana Jones. I could see him enjoying Stand By Me and The Goonies as well, he's be really into classic 80s movies.

Lily - Anne of Green Gables all the way. I think she got called Pippi Longstocking when she was younger and has refused to have anything to do with it since. Lily would love the tv show Anne with an E. I think she likes watching the LotR films with Remus because she loves the women but would complain that they don't have enough to do. She's also a lover of Wuthering Heights, I feel. And The Princess Bride.

Mary - OUR ROMCOM QUEEEENNN!!! Her favourites are Clueless, The Notebook, The Proposal and whenever she watches Love Actually she gets irrationally angry at Harry before he's even done anything to hurt Karen, it's just a vibe. She reads those smutty romance books with the cartoon covers, but also loves Janes Austen like Emma and Pride and Prejudice. She's also into Eve Babitz and Joan Didion I feel.

Marlene - She reads a lot of biographies and autobiographies. One time someone caught them reading Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter and they hated all men for two weeks, even James who she was normally friends with. I think films...I want to say Bend it Like Beckham but that feels so obvious. She can also recite a lot of The Devil Wears Prada but that's their girlfriend's fault. Marlene could probably be a horror film buff? That seems kinda fun.

Dorcas - Like I just mentioned, The Devil Wears Prada. I think she also likes period romances like the 2005 Pride and Prejudice and Atonement. She'll also watched Bend it Like Beckham...and there is absolutely no link between those three films that would explain why she likes them. In terms of books, I think she would enjoy some Stephen King, her and Marlene have a joint love for The Shining and Carrie.

Pandora - I've been thinking about this and I think Pandora would be a big fan of Guillermo Del Toro's film Pan's Labyrinth. Maybe also The Dark Crystal? In terms of books, I think she let Marlene borrow her copy The Bloody Chamber but she also likes Maya Angelou.

Regulus - Motherfucker is so pretentious. He is reading Russian novels and glares at anyone who calls him out for it. I think if Regulus watching films, he's watching very deep and thoughtful films, ones that either aren't particularly popular but are good for discussion. I couldn't name one though so 🙃

Barty - No.

Evan - I think he could be into horror novels or like psychological thrillers. The first one that came to mind was I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid, but I think he could fuck with The Picture of Dorian Gray which doesn't fit the same vibe but it makes since to me I think. Also medical journals and books about the human body. I've said previously that I think Evan would really like films like Martyrs and The Idiots and I stand by that. Maybe also Un Chien Andalou.

Xenophilius - I mentioned earlier in this post that I think Xeno fucks with folk stories so that's what he'd be reading. Maybe like a classic dystopian such as 1984? I am struggling with films though, I genuinely have no idea.

[mochatune]

Hey! So I've fixated on a vague headcannon of a Y/N with dissociative identity disorder. They're a system with different alters, and each feels differently about Peter (each could be a reference to the different routes in the game - the romantic route, the friendship route, the abusive route, etc.) And well, Peter loves all of you - so he tries to get every single alter to fall for him. I love your HCs, could you write a Peter x Y/N with DID one?

Hey so sorry about this being as late as it is, I’m just now getting back on tumblr. Anyone else with an ask i promise it’s a priority.

In advance I have no real idea on how DID really is and am going off what I’ve been told, if this comes off as offensive then I apologize.

—

Peter x darling with DID

—

- honestly he wouldn’t pick up on it at all in the beginning, which is weird considering his favorite hobby is literally stalking you. He knew you took some sort of medication but upon further snooping he found it was Prozac, a common depression med.

- when you keep changing how you feel about him it gets him angry, he genuinely thinks you’re just giving him mixed signals. This could lead him on to take you even faster than originally in the game.

- you go from calling him asking when you guys are meeting up again to telling him to stay the fuck away from you and blocking his number. He doesn’t appreciate the inconsistency, don’t be surprised when he’s banging at your door screaming demanding an explanation. He’s patient but enough of this will start to piss him off and leave him feeling paranoid.

- it’s not until you both are having a at home date when he realizes what’s happening here, the switch is gradual and almost seemless but as your biggest fan he picks it up.

- one second your cuddling him and now you’re just staring at him with this gross look in your eyes.

- after this incident it’s clear he doesn’t know as much as he thought he did about you. if you felt watched before then you definitely did now, not only is he keeping a strict eye on you trying to figure out what’s going on with you but he’s also snooping through your place a lot more consistently.

- he eventually finds your hospital records in a dusty old box and it all starts to click, of course you were acting so ‘weird’.

- this determines him further to win the love over every ‘you’, though don’t be surprised if you find this also motivates him to take you faster. Now that he has an actual reason to believe you need him he won’t release his grip.

- it starts with him coming over more often and Texting you more, being more attentive basically. He also starts noticing the switches more.

- as soon as he found out about your diagnosis he did so much research, like an insane amount. Knows pretty much the ins and outs of what DID is.

- when you switch it’s like he switches, more so switching his approach in how he talks to you.

- when you’re lovey he doesn’t do much, he likes this side of you best and is ultimately determined to get all these sides of you to be like that with him.

- when you’re angry or more so scared of him he gives you space and comforts you as much as possible, it’s a little antagonizing to admit but he treats you like a child when you get like this.

- it’s sort of a running game, this personality is incredibly stubborn and doesn’t want anything to do with him. His best bet is to more gently force himself on you until you can eventually tolerate his presence and hopefully soon his love.

- all in all he just becomes more attentive. There’s not much to say considering he’s not as mentally there either.

- you end up kidnapped in his home much earlier than expected from even himself where he basically locks you inside and treats you like a helpless animal.

- its fucked up but he drugs you into being complacent when you switch and you start freaking out about the current situation.

- if the drugging doesn’t work then it’s the constant manipulation that does, you’re other personality will never really love him but it is numb to his touch at this point.

- he’s really just putting a bandaid over a bullet wound with the way he’s treating you.

- when you behave he’s all over you and treating you like a goddess but when you have these freak outs he just doesn’t know what to do, despite being so well versed in your disorder he’s still a very toxic person who wants all of you.

- he won’t even take you to therapy because of how possessive he is, he expects you to treat him as your therapist and you can only imagine how that would blow over.

- you’re always ensured your meds and a warm body to stay next to but that’s about as much as you get because Peter is not as emotionally available as he makes you believe he is.

—

[princeescaluswords]

Well, Then ... They Had a Reason

I read an interesting post about how fandom racism never really goes away. It has burrowed into heart of fandom like a canker in a rose. I can't disagree.

Almost thirteen years ago, near the end of the fourth episode of the first season of Teen Wolf, an antagonist in the first season, Derek Hale, led the lead protagonist, Scott McCall into a hospital room in order to show him his comatose uncle as a reason why Scott should not trust his girlfriend or his girlfriend's family. Here is the conversation.

Scott: So - What makes you so sure that they set the fire? Derek: 'Cause they're the only ones that knew about us. Scott: Well, then - They had a reason. Derek: Like what? You tell me what justifies this. They say they'll only kill an adult, and only with absolute proof, but there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that fire. This is what they do. And it's what Allison will do.

Now, of course, anyone with a shred of empathy for the lead protagonist will realize that what he's trying to do there is look for a reason that his girlfriend's family won't murder him for just being a werewolf. However, even as recently as this month -- March of 2024 -- fandom has used that line as a reason to despise the lead protagonist. They reinterpret it as Scott giving approval for what the Argents did and use that to justify their dislike. The line is insensitive, but if a viewer was paying attention at all to the remainder of the first four episodes, they would understand that Scott's line doesn't come out of the blue.

In the first sixteen days (according to @adrianfridge 's excellent reconstruction of the first season's chronology) portrayed in the series, Scott has directly experienced these events.

A werewolf has killed Laura Hale, Derek's sister, in order to gain the power to make more werewolves. (Ironically, the perpetrator is Uncle Peter, pretending to be comatose in this very scene.)

Peter used the power to turn Scott into a werewolf against his will. While Scott's asthma is gone, he must experience drastically-increased aggression and outright body horror, including an attempt to kill his best friend.

Derek has stalked Scott rather than talking to him like a normal human being.

Derek pretended to be Scott's friend to Allison in order to get Allison's jacket and lure Scott out into the woods.

Peter used the alpha-beta bond to cause Scott to sleepwalk into the woods and then chased him.

Derek broke into Scott's house, attacked him, and threatened to kill him if Scott didn't do as he says.

Scott discovered that Derek had buried half the body of a murder victim (not yet revealed to Scott as Derek's sister) in the side yard of his burned-down family home.

Peter once again used the alpha-beta bond to cause Scott to sleepwalk in an attempt to force Scott to help him murder Scott's old bus driver.

Derek never denied being the person who lured Scott into the woods because Derek was using Scott as bait for Peter.

When Scott confronted Derek about the death of Garrison Myers, Derek threw him down the stairs and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him. Only afterwards did Derek tell Scott about the presence of the alpha who really murdered Laura Hale.

The same episode in which Scott uttered the above line which is the title of this post, Derek explained the rationale behind the alpha's actions. "Then think about this. The Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed." The. Same. Episode.

That list above is the entirety of Scott McCall's experience with werewolves up to this point: brutality, violence, violation, and murder. In the span of sixteen days, Scott had been assaulted three times, mentally violated three times, and physically transformed into a creature he hadn't even know was real seventeen days before. All of this was done by werewolves to him without provocation.

Yes, "Then they had a reason" was insensitive, but it was clearly motivated by the actions of werewolves themselves not out of any wickedness that is part of Scott's nature. And yet, this fandom never seems to tire of using that phrase to justify Scott's further physical and mental violation by Derek and Peter. In fact, according to many posters, this sentence alone is enough to make them dislike Scott. And yet ...

In the same episode, Stiles Stilinksi, fandom's beloved white-boy bicycle, tells Derek Hale, poisoned and close to death, that he "could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead." But that's not enough for them to dislike Stiles. Oh, no!

In the same episode, Scott McCall risks both his relationship with Allison Argent and his own life stealing the bullet Derek needs to survive, but the fandom could care less. It earns Scott no credit with them. It's expected.

Derek can stalk, manipulate, beat, and lie to Scott, and the fandom will fall all over themselves to explain it away as trauma caused by Laura's death and the Hale Fire. Derek sold Scott out to his uncle, and they love him.

Peter can violate, mutilate, threaten Scott's mother, threaten his girlfriend, and try to force him to murder his friends, and the fandom explains it away by saying he was out of his mind.

Stiles can accuse Derek of killing his sister out of jealousy, have to be threatened into helping Derek survive, can firebomb Peter, and can plot to leave Derek in the hands of the Argent, but he's loved to the point of distraction.

Yet, Scott McCall is a terrible person because in the face of unrelenting violence visited upon him directly by werewolves, he thinks that maybe the werewolf hunters had a reason to hunt werewolves.

The worst part of this is that the show went on for 96 episodes after Magic Bullet (1x04) and managed to develop Scott and Derek's relationship into a real brotherly bond. It managed to charter the development of Scott from a teenage boy who didn't even think monsters were real to a leader who was willing to give up his future to save werewolves and other supernatural creatures. But you see, they have their reasons for disliking Scott, such as him saying a cruel and insensitive thing to Derek "Maybe You Will Survive" Hale in front of Peter "I Got Better" Hale, and they like Stiles "Won't you think of letting him die, for me?" Stilinski at the same exact time. They must have had a reason.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

[hottestthingalive]

thinking about dorothy gale again. bc i always am. but specifically i was thinking about the peter pan-dorothy comparisons because if you think about it:

a fair-haired* orphaned human immortal** with a permanently child-like appearance and personality that primarily wears green*** is initially from the real world but is transported under mysterious circumstances via unconventional air travel to an isolated land with magic, a variety of animals the author probably saw at the zoo, and mystical creatures including specifically mermaids and fairies. They have a small primary companion whose name starts with a T, is prone to biting, and that can understand human languages but refuses to speak them****, as well as a group of other functionally immortal quasi-children***** that they go on adventures with. They occasionally leave the isolated land but always return (partially because they lose their immortality if they do not), they spend a portion of their lives tormenting an old gay man with an oddly circumstantially appropriate name******, their best friend is a fairy*******, there is a group of responsible adults around that keeps an eye out for them & the other kids but mostly lets them do their own thing********, and at some point a pretty girl gives them a kiss*********.

This description applies to both Dorothy Gale and Peter Pan. Literally the only real differences are their gender and nationalities.

in conclusion, all those books where dorothy and wendy become pals are cute, but also deeply inaccurate to the actual dynamics. Give me Peter Pan and Dorothy Gale being chaotic BFFs

now, all the footnotes:

*in the movie, dorothy has dark hair. This is based on the first book, where her hair color is difficult to discern but is generally held to be brown or black. In all later books that Baum (& others but I don’t count them) wrote, the illustrator was changed to John Rea Neill, the “Royal Painter of Oz”, who portrayed Dorothy as a curly-haired blonde in art. Since later books retconned numerous parts of the first book, I chose to accept that brunette Dorothy is one of them.

**In the Emerald City of Oz, Dorothy and her aunt and uncle end up permanently moving to Oz, after which they become immortal.

***When Dorothy is acting as Princess of Oz, or is just generally in the Emerald City, she is almost always described as changing into or just generally wearing a green outfit. After her moving into the palace permanently, it thus becomes her primary outfit color.

****This is in reference to Tinkerbell and Toto respectively. Tinkerbell speaks the language of the fairies but can understand Peter, the Lost Boys, and the Darlings when they speak English (and it is subtextually implied she choses not to speak English). In Tiktok of Oz, it is revealed that Toto, like all other animals, has been able to speak since he entered Oz, which explains why he always understands what Dorothy says and asks of him: however, he just doesn’t care for speaking much, and prefers barking.

*****For Peter, this is the Lost Boys; for Dorothy, this is Ozma, Trot, Betsy Bobbin, Button-Bright, Ojo, and assorted other children who at some point either traveled in or permanently live in Oz.

******Peter Pan very purposefully torments Captain Hook, who is named this before he loses the hand; Dorothy unknowingly drives The Wizard up the wall with her persistence until she eventually reveals him as a scam artist, who had Oz as his stage name even before he ended up in the Land of Oz.

*******Here, I reference Tinkerbell and Ozma. Tink is obviously (and very famously) a fairy, but Ozma is described numerous times as being a fairy princess. ********In Peter Pan, this is the indigenous tribe that keep an eye on Peter and the Lost Boys; in the Wizard of Oz, this is the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, Glinda, Aunt Em & Uncle Henry, and assorted other characters.

*********Funnily enough, in the book Peter and Wendy technically don’t actually kiss: she just gives him an acorn she calls a kiss. HOWEVER, Dorothy and Ozma are described as kissing MULTIPLE TIMES, and there is a famous canonical illustration by Neill of them kissing on the mouth. Gay rights!

[witchthewriter]

what type of muggle music/bands/artists do you think that the trio era characters + the marauders would listen to? sorry if this seems like a weird question..

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐏 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

Ooh, another music question! I only did the Golden Trio and The Marauders minus Peter, lemme know if you want anyone else 🌷🌿🌻

a/n: I'm not taking time into consideration...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ            

・The Marauders love Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees (fun fact, my Pa lived on the same street as them when he was a kid and they would play together)

・The Marauders would so reenact the scene from Mamma Mia when Donna is crying in the bathroom and Chiquitita comes on

・The Golden Trio all love Lizzo. Harry loves her confidence, Ron loves her charisma and is attracted to her and Hermione loves how uplifting her songs can be

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

・Is a lot more well-versed in muggle music

・So when he shows Ron all the different types of muggle music, he understands a glimpse of what everyone felt when they were showing Harry the magical world.

・Headcanon that Harry somehow saves up his money to buy a walkman (one of those things that you put cd's in to listen to it) or a small portal radio or takes one of Dudley's many birthday presents. Anway, it's a way for Harry to listen to music. He is a maladaptive daydreamer (like us!!!) and would sneak off from the Dudley's house to lay down in the grass and have his headphones on, getting lost in music

・He has a broad range of musical taste

・From classical, to beautiful movie scores, to old music to new.

・I do think that Harry would be a bit of a metal head though, and he would love Korn, Rob Zombie, and Godsmack.

・Feels a personal connect to the song Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin. It's how he felt during the height of Voldemort's power.

・Underground !!! By Cody Fry !!! Has amazing daydreams about the song!!!

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞

・Like Harry, she knows muggle music a lot better than the others

・Might be a bit of a shock, but she loves Viking-esque music. Her favourite bands are Folknery and Dakha Brakha. She has gets this surge of power whenever their songs play. As if she can feel the magic running through her veins

・Hermione loves music that moves her. That has a bit of umph - so I think she would like the Alabama Shakes, specifically their album Sound & Colour

・Secretly loves Cardi B's songs (YEAH IT MIGHT BE A REACH BUT C'MON, she'd totally be in her room studying to her classical music when out of the blue Cardi comes on and Hermione is like *... okay, I can dig it.*)

𝐑𝐨𝐧

・Unironically loves the Black Eyed Peas

・And goes hard for Rasputin by Boney M.

・Would make fun of Hermione for liking the Viking/Scandinavian type of music. But Hermione only needs to give him a death glare and he apologises ...

・THE WEASLEY'S WOULD BE A DISNEY SINGING FAMILY. Harry would show them all the classics (I mean, I doubt that the Dursley's let him watch much tv. But maybe they just sat Harry in front of the tv for most of his childhood???) The Weasley's reference the movies to each other all the time, and Harry feels a sense of pride because he's shown them something from his world

・Would follow a lot of the popular trends and have pride in knowing the words to all the popular songs.

・Fred & George walked in on Ron White Girl Dancing to Stargirl Interlude by Lana Del Rey once

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

・Bad Reputation by Joan Jett

・I Was Made For Lovin' You by KISS

・Likes a lot of the classics

・Holding Out For A Hero!!! Would absolutely belt it in class and jump up on the tables thinking McGonnagal wasn't in class:

"That was quite the performance, Potter. Now sit down. And I'll be seeing you every night for a week's detention."

・Would definitely sing ABBA's When I Kissed the Teacher for McGonnagal, and it would make her blush but also another week of detention (he got on the table again)

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬

・Loves belting out I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James. It gets him in his feels.

・Really fell in love with the 60s and 70s era of music. Some of his favourite singers are Billie Holiday, Janis Joplin and Nina Simone

・You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse! He'd become obsessed with her. He feels truly connected to her music because of how alone he feels in the world

・Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood by Nina Simone would bring him to tears the first few times he listens to it

・Music was a way for Sirius to escape into his own world while at the Black household

・Created playlists for the people he cares about. They're songs that 1. he thinks they'll like 2. songs that remind him of them 3. songs that represent them

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬

・Loves David Bowie!!! Definitely would want to dress up as him for Halloween (can you imagine a little marauder halloween party??)

・HOZIER HOZIER HOZIER HOZIER. Oh my god, some of his favourites would be Cherry Wine and Sunlight. The soul, the guttural... umph that Hozier has with all of his songs. It moves Remus every time. The lyrics would mean so much to him.

・His taste in music is songs that make him feel connected to the artist or what the message of the song is

・Always has the radio on at home, while being a professor at Hogwarts etc

[ultraozzie3000]

Some Pitiful Melodies

Sigmund Gottfried Spaeth (1885–1965) sought to popularize classical music and improve the musical tastes of the masses by meeting the public wherever he could find them, from vaudeville halls to national radio broadcasts. September 1, 1934 cover by William Steig. Born in a line of three generations of Lutheran clergymen, Spaeth chose a different path and became a musicologist who sought to…

[azlan-snow]

Humble Beginnings(Radiobelle)

Chapter Seventeen: A Worried Mother

(Told from Lilith’s POV)

As I sit on the edge of my bed, I begin to thinks about Alastor’s warning. “Beware of the one who did, your Majesty. She won’t take this lightly , I’m afraid.” Who owned his soul, and why was he so afraid of them? Then, suddenly, my telephone rings, pulling me back into reality. I read the headline, and it says ‘Heavenbound’. With haste, I pick it up and hear Saint Peter’s voice on the other side. 

“Hello?” He says hesitantly and soft-spokenly.

“Hello, Saint Peter. How may I help you?”

“Your presence is requested at the Heaven Embassy, Queen Lilith,” he formally says, addressing me by my title. 

“Very well. I will be there momentarily.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day.”

“You as well.” I place the phone down and shadow out of the room and head towards the church-like building in the middle of the Pentagram. Upon entering, I ring a small bell on the desk and wait, in the empty building, in front of an empty desk. But as soon as that paper appears, I yelp in surprise at it, startling me. “Every time.”

I enter the meeting space, and am greeted by the battle ready angel, Michael, better known as my husband’s twin brother. “Hello, Michael,” I dragged out, steeling my expression to deal with him.

“Lili! So lovely to see you again! How have you been?”

“Just fine, Michael. What are your reasons for summoning me?”

“Straight to business, are we? Well, then,” his face straightens and becomes stern, preparing to talk business. “I want to come down to Hell.”

"What ?! Why? We have done nothing but try to work with you!”

“Not for that, Lili. I want to meet my niece. And see her hotel. From what Emily tells me, young Morningstar is quite kind and willing to cooperate with Heaven.”

“I don’t think this is the best course of action, Michael. An Archangel in Hell is likely to draw attention. Attention Charlie doesn’t need.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Charlie’s just woke up from the coma she’s been for a month and a half, and has a lot of shit on her plate to deal with. Plus the exterminations drawing attention away from the hotel.”

“What? How come no one told me?” He was confused at my answer, misunderstanding emitting off of him. “Hold on, Lilith. I’ll be right back.” He walks away, leaving me to my own devices, and a couple minutes later, he returns, saying he’ll be down shortly and nothing else, hanging upt the call. I begin to leave when a portal opens in front of me, revealing Michael and his assistant. 

“Hello again!”

“Who’s this?”

“This is my assistant! His name’s Roe!”

“He-he-llo Yo-your Maj-jes-ty,” Roe says, stuttering and stammering.

“Lovely to meet you, Roe. I’m assuming you’re here to relay information about the hotel to the other Archangels?” He nods in agreement, hiding behind Michael in fear of the new environment. “Very well. Follow me. I’ll take you to your niece.” I summon a portal of shadows, pitch black and glitchy, for us to walk through. “After you two.” They looked skeptically at the portal before walking  through, arriving in front of my husband, Charlie, and her boyfriend, Alastor. To their surprise and not to minem, Lucifer was enraged at his brother’s sudden appearance, so much so that he was at his throat as soon as he came through the portal. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Hello, Brother. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Answer the damn question, Michael. Why are you here?”

“I’m here to meet Princess Charlotte Morningstar, my niece, about the Hazbin Hotel.”

Everyone turns to Charlie, Lucifer in frustration, Alastor in annoyance and astonishment, and me with a supportive smile.

“Are you Princess Morningstar?” Michael asks, staring directly at her.

“I am. But who’re you?”

“I am Archangel Michael, Luci’s twin brother.”

“You don’t look like His Majesty, if I may point out,” Alastor comments. Michael changes his expression to match Lucifer’s signature smile, and everyone’s convinced. “Nevermind. I withdraw my statement.”

“The reason for my visit is to see if the Hotel is suitable to partner with Heaven’s Committee. My assistant’s here to take notes about it to report to the other Archangels. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming.”

“I also want to give my condolences, Charlotte, for your pain.” He reaches out towards her and Alastor steps in between the two, radio symbols glowing prominently around the room.

“ I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” He says, shis voice laced with aggressive static.  

“It’s fine, Al,” Charlie says, smiling softly.

“I must say, we have been watching you for a while now. Your hotel shows promise, though we don’t know if it is possible. Nonetheless, tell me about this hotel you’ve created.”

Charlie beams at the request, looks at Alastor, who nods, summons a piano and begins playing. I hadn’t heard her sing since she was a little girl, and I listen and am drawn into the music, which she inherited from me. I’ll have to tell her voice’s effect later. When the two finished their duet, I turned to Michael to see his expression, and he was in utter shock. 

“Can I get that in English?” We all look at him, confused about what he meant.

“I wasn’t kidding. I’m confused. You lost me about halfway through.”

“Oh. My bad!” Charlie smiles, while Al looks frustrated.

“She said that everyone’s welcome, no matter who they are, as long as they want to give redemption a shot,” I explain, sparing Charlie the over-explanation.

“Oh, okay.” He turns to Charlie, looks her dead in the eyes, surprising her but doesn’t waiver her confidence. “I will partner Heaven with the Hazbin Hotel. But I wish to meet a resident who you believe is capable of redemption, if you don’t mind.” Then, his stomach growls loudly, echoing his hunger. 

“Do you want to eat lunch with us, sir? Al can cook for us!”

“Excuse me?” Al and Michael say, synchronized. 

“Yeah! Al’s a great cook!”

“Who is this ‘Al’?”

“That would be me, good sir. Alastor, sir.”

“Alastor, huh? You’re the one who stepped in between us, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Not many are willing to do that out of fear, even in Heaven. Do you know why?”

“Do enlighten me, because the people who are scared of the twin of Lucifer are cowards .”

“You have some nerve, sinner.”

“That’s good, knowing I love to agitate people. But if you want, we can settle it like men.”

“It that a challenge?”

“No!” Charlie says, separating the two from each other’s throats. “Let’s all work together! Please?”

“Of course, mon cher. If you wish.”

“Thank you.”

“I shall meet you at this hotel. I must return Roe to Heaven.”

“Okay! See you there!”

He leaves through a portal, and we head to the hotel.