#y you remind me of someone… [boomboxes]

[xan-izme]

Dubble life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 2

Part 1, Part 3

Summary: Reader struggles to get used to their new life in Gotham. Worrying constantly about her family in New York. A rise of tension rises between readers father figure Aaron and her real father Bruce.

After the dinner, you got yourself ready for bed. The old boombox player you had was playing soft music in the background.

You turned the lights off, slipped into bed and stared at absolutely nothing. Even with the soft music playing, you were just itching to break into your suit and jump from building to building. You were missing your life as Spider-Woman. You missed your aunt and uncles. You missed your cousin. He was literally your twin.

You practically bawled your eyes out while saying goodbye to him. Suddenly, your train of thought was broken when you heard a ringing sound. You sat you and grabbed your phone, for some reason, hoping that it was your mother calling, telling you she was going to be home late tonight.

It wasn't your mother, of course, it was Miles, your cousin. You happily accepted the call. "Miles! oh my God, I missed you!" You could hear the boy chuckle on the other side of the phone.

"We saw each other this morning."

You pout and groan "I know! but it feels like it's been days." You knew you were acting like a toddler, but don't you deserve to act like this? After the nights filled with crime, days filled with unwanted drama.

You and Miles stayed on the phone. Not much talking involved. Talking was too much to do, knowing that they couldn't say the usual 'See you tomorrow' or Miles reminding you to be safe on your little outings. You did end up crying at one point, which caused Miles to tear up, but you don't know that, and he would like to keep it that way.

The next few weeks went by in a blink of an eye, dinner most of the times ended up just being you and Alfred, which you understand, knowing Bruce is busy, and Damian doesn't really like you. Tim would join you for lunch at times. You soon found out Tim was a geek. Which made you talk and ramble off about your plans for the future. Besides from that, you were mostly alone in the house.

Now it was your first day of school, your uncle Aaron offered to drive you for your first day. You asked Bruce for permission first of course.

Bruce at first wanted to say no, but when he pondered about it. It would be good for you to be with someone you knew better to be with you on your first day.

But Bruce looked into Aron. The man was trouble, used to be involved in lots of bad people back in the day. Just to be safe, Bruce decided to tag along. This would also help Bruce get closer to you, get to know the real you.

Putting aside the formalities and the instant obedience you give him.

The doorbell rang, Alfred opened the door and see Aaron standing with a blank expression, one matching Alfreds. "Ah, Mister Davies. Lady Y/n is curently getting ready. Please follow me."

Without any words, Aaron follows Alfred to a room. Thats where he meets Bruce.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Davies." Bruce puts a smile on his face and extended his hand to greet. Aaron smiled a little and shook his hand

"Same here. And Aaron is fine."

The two men sat down and began to talk. It was normal, but only for a small amount of time. The tension in the room began to rise when Aaron's past was brought up.

". . . I admit. I went down the wrong path when I was younger. But I grew out of that mess. But if this is about Y/n, then I guaranty you she is nothing like me. She's a good girl."

"I know she is. I'm not suggesting anything Ill towards my daughter."

Aaron chuckled "Daughter? Don't take this personally. But she ain't your daughter. Not till she says so."

Before any real argument could be made, you came busting in the room. "Uncle Aaron!"

"Baby girl!" Aron at up and opened his arms for a hug.

You ran into the man's arms. Giggling as Aaron gave your head a kiss.

"Look at you. In your little uniform."

You smiled more and twirled around for Aaron to see the whole fit better. "You like it?"

"I love it."

The car ride was a little awkward, but at least it wasn't fully awkward.

Aaron gave you some money and a few good luck kisses and I love You's from Rio. You gave Bruce a hug goodbye.

It's been almost a month since Spider-woman was last seen. Tim did take an interest in this Spider-woman and was going to offer her to join the Young Justice League. You were just one person looking after New York all on your own, with no help. It was very impressive.

But now Spider-Woman was just nowhere to be seen. She has just gone MIA. Now the Prowler was taking care of the city. The media has gone crazy after the disappearance of Spider-woman.

'WHERE IS SPIDER-WOMAN?'

'SPIDER-WOMAN ON THE RUN?'

What did catch Tim's attention was the last time Spider-Woman was seen was the day Y/n's mother died. A lot of people were hurt that day Only one dead, which was your mother. Tim has come to a small theory that the death of your mother is connected to the disappearance of Spider-woman.

It's been a full week since you started school, the first day, teachers were really nice to you. They already knew about your mother, which had them pity you. And Bruce being your father made them extra nice. You already didn't like the kids. Seeing them as fake. Because they were. Those smiling faces, those empty words.

You knew them all too well. You do the same, fake knows fake, guess that's what you could call it. Damian was of course no help. Ignoring you as much as he could. Which you didn't actually care.

Why would you care for someone who clearly don't care for you? No need to waste any energy on him. You did take interest in a few clubs. You did need to pick one that you didn't have to attend all the time. One that didn't need too much of your attention. So, you picked the art club.

You saw how much kids were in there, with those number of kids, no one expects you to get to know them all, nor make friends with them all. There are also very talented kids in the club, and the art they do isn't your style, so you're not the best. Which was in a way, good to keep cover.

Right now, you were at the manor. Your uncle dropped off the extra books you left at his place. half of your room looked a section in a library. You knew there was a library in the manor. But they weren't your books. Even if Bruce insists that most of the things in the manor was also yours, that's not how you saw it.

The things you brought from New York was yours, the cloths, books, pictures. You just felt like a guest. Nothing else.

You were curently in your room, listening to a playlist Miles made for you. You were just finishing up your homework when you heard a knock on your door.

"Y/n? It's me, Bruce." The voice on the other side of the door spoke. "Come in!" You say, just loud enough for him to hear.

Bruce enters the room, when he sees you, a small smile graces his lips. You gave him an awkward smile as you wait for what he needed to tell you.

"My schedule is cleared out today. I was wondering if you wanted to go out shopping with me." Bruce was taking a look around your room. Looking at the items you kept on shelves, pictures. Trying to know what you would like, so he could buy something for you that was more of your style.

"And me!" Suddenly Dick popped out of the door with a bright smile on his face. "Nice room." Drick mumbled as he went near your bookshelf. Seeing what books, you were into.

"Ah. . . I would love to, sir- Bruce. But I don't got much on me." You had your own card, you had about 300 or 500 in. But you don't use it unless you're out and really need something to eat. On top of that, you kind of have a spending problem you need to control.

"No need to worry about that." Bruce pulled out his card "It's all on me."

You had no choice but to go with them. You sat in the back seat. Dick in the passenger seat while Bruce was driving. "How's school? make any friends?" Dick spoke up, turning down the volume of the radio. "Oh, it's alright. Me a few kids, they were pretty nice."

The car pulled up to a store. You walked in with the two men and started looking around. You saw plushies that looked really cute. "Can I get these?" You pointed at the plushies and looked up to Bruce for permision.

"Of course." Dick grabbed the plushies and you all started to get more things. Clothes, shoes. You were pretty satisfied with what you had. Bruce purchased what you had picked out, along with a few dresses Dick picked out for you.

Bruce was able to talk to you more. He knows that you like a lot of music genres, you seem to have a deep bond with your cousin Miles and your uncle Aaron. You speak highly of Miles, like he was a sun in the sky to praise.

Bruce was still hooked up on what Aaron had said. Bruce knows that he can't fix the sixteen years he missed in your life, but he wants to try and be there for you now. Try to break down that fake smile of yours.

What? You think he didn't notice.?

Bruce knows what pain looks like. And he can see it all over you. In your actions, your words. In your voice. Whatever makes you cry, whatever fears you have. Bruce will make them all go away. And he is determined to earn the title as your father. For you to finally call him by that title.

Because he's your father. And that's what fathers do.

[ask-a-broken-boombox]

“I-i May not know how long it’s been, but i-i do know that I am not safe…”

an ask/RP blog for the Boombox’s Boombox of my (@local-angst-satan-diinosour11) Phighting au called the Order au! OOC will be designated by (())

RULES:

No NSFW please! Gore (not irl please and don’t bomb me with it!) is fine tho as there’s a LOT of physical injuries in this au

PROSHIPPERS DNI

Don’t be weird, please

This along with any possible other bonus chapters will not be in the au proper and is only for the tumblrverse version of the timeline unless stated otherwise!

TAGS:

Angst Satan [OORP]

I-if there’s anyone out there… [IMPORTANT POST]

O-oh! H-hello!.. [ASK]

Being on my own c-can’t be too bad.. [POST]

Ooo look at this! [REBLOG]

I-I wish I knew who you were.. [ANONS]

Whoa…. [DEITIES]

I-I recognize you! [PHIGHTERS]

It’s good to see someone out here!.. [NPCS]

I’m.. not the only one?.. [SENTIENT WEAPONS]

Y-you remind me of someone… [BOOMBOXES]

What… happened?…. [WORLDBUILDING/LORE]

T-this needs to be seen to be believed- [ART]

alongside normal Phighting tags!

AU LINK:

#Order au | local-angst-satan-diinosour11

OTHER GEARS:

Hyperlaser’s Hyperlaser (Max)

Banham’s Banhammer (Post)

Scythe’s Right Arm (Heart) (INACTIVE)

Fake Chartruse (Pixle) (INACTIVE)

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter One

Summary: You live in Bogotá in the ‘90s, and work odd hours. No, you’re not a DEA agent, but a nurse. These odd hours prompt odd habits, like working out at 2:03 A.M. after a shift. Odd hours attract odd people, and you have a chance encounter with one DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña. Warnings: language, blood and violence (both graphic), descriptions of death and gun violence Chapter 1 W/C: 2.3K A/N: you guys! I am so in love with this fic. I already have quite a bit more written and can’t wait for you to read it! I hope you love it as much as I do! Javi deserves some softness... but not too much. this can’t all be fluff when you’re Javier Peña. Okay, this is not super canon-fitting of Narcos, I’m just gonna be honest with y’all. This is between the time of Escobar’s escape from La Catedral and his final capture and death, but also… Connie’s still in Colombia. Additionally, I don’t really have a year in mind, it’s just somewhere in that period. Please note that this is not a very lighthearted story- it begins with a death, though not of a significant character. Javier and reader both have some trauma, so please check the warnings of each chapter before you start reading. If you’re continuing on, I hope you like it! For the most part, if I use italics here when someone is speaking, it’s indicating that it’s in Spanish. I’m okay at the language, but I don’t want to butcher anything, so… just imagine it. Otherwise, it’s just the way anyone would use italics I guess.

next chapter

Chapter One

You watched a woman you didn’t know die in your arms tonight.

 She was beautiful, all dressed up to go out and party, her makeup running down her face with tears. Her lips were the painted the color of the blood that trickled from the side of them, eyes glazing over as she coughed and coughed and ruined the beautiful dress she wore. The nurses had asked what happened, and she had told them, through gurgles of blood: she had slept with one of Escobar’s men. She got too close, learned too much, and they tracked her down. 

She flatlined not long after telling the nurses around you. You had stood in the corner, paralyzed at first. You were an experienced ER nurse, nothing was new. You had seen patients die, but something about her was different. Maybe it was the way she reached out to you right before her body went limp. You didn’t make it to her bedside in time to calm her, the panic holding you down, but you finally took her hand right as she took her last breath. 

After she passed, you threw up in the bathroom, shaking and clutching the toilet. The night air had grown unbearably hot and humid, causing your scrubs to cling to your skin, and the sweat from the heaving of your stomach didn’t make things easier on you. Lorena, a fellow nurse and your best friend at work, had found you and comforted you, rubbing your back and bringing you water. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t reverse what had happened. 

Now, you sit on a bench in the staff’s locker room, redoing the ponytail holding your hair from your damp face. Your shift ended a few minutes ago, but you don’t know what to do now. You don’t feel like drinking; that would only make the visions swimming in your head worse. You know you can’t go home, can’t attempt to find sleep tonight. You look up and spot a bag with tennis shoes and spare clothing and settle your mind on at least one thing: the gym could do you some good. You change into the clothes and put the blood-spattered scrubs in the laundry pile. 

As you leave, you give Lorena a little wave goodbye and exit the building. You’re hyper-aware of your surroundings tonight, and you groan as you look at your watch and notice that it’s precisely 2:09 A.M. here in Bogotá. The walk to your fitness club is short, but your step is slightly extra hurried and your hand is on your pepper spray the entire time, extra vigilant to the fact that a hit went down somewhere around here just a few hours earlier. Surprisingly enough, no one catcalls or bugs you tonight. 

The little gym is run-down and dilapidated, and there’s no working air conditioning, but it’s the only one near you. You paid the small monthly membership fee to gain access, and you were going to use it to get in shape, you’d decided. As you swipe in and enter, the tiny fitness center looks more depressing in the fluorescent lights, no daylight to sugarcoat the atrocities of the center. There are two of every machine, a punching bag and a speed bag, two weightlifting racks, and a couple of benches. 

It’s nice that you get to work out alone tonight, you tell yourself. Even better is the fact that you now get to control the music. Desperate for a taste of home, you flip the large boombox in the corner on and begin scanning the airwaves with the dial. There’s a station in town that plays American music, and you need it more than anything tonight. You listen carefully and nearly start sobbing again as you hear Billy Joel’s voice through the speakers. With a sigh of relief, you lock your bag in the rusty lockers in the corner and head to the treadmill. It’s a beat up old thing, but this is the one you always use. It provides a little bit of comfort tonight, the familiarity of it. You turn it on low and start walking. A few moments later, you up it to a jog, mouthing along to the words of the familiar song. 

As the song ends, you push the buttons enough to enter a running speed. Your feet slam into the treadmill harder than normal tonight, feeling as overwhelmed as when you left the hospital. Your body finally works up a sweat, the physical stress overwhelming the mental stress. 

As the events of tonight replay in your head to some other song from the late 80’s, your eyes start to water. Everything was so overwhelming, and your mind is just starting to process it. You finally allow the tears to fall, mixing with the sweat coating your cheeks. It’s hard to tell which is causing more of the mess, but you let yourself cry it out as you run for the next few minutes. 

The next song that comes on is Venus by Bananarama. You almost chuckle at the fact that it’s a few years old by now, but the song is comforting. It reminds you of home, of a time before you had issues like these. You slow down the treadmill a little, singing to the words aloud once you catch your breath enough. Daring to do a little spin on the rolling surface, you groove along to the music, chuckling a little

After the first chorus, you hear a creaking noise and whip around to find a man standing in the doorway. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You shout before you can stop yourself, hopping off the treadmill and onto the non-moving one before you get flung off. Your heart is pounding from the running, only intensifying the adrenaline rush from the scare. 

The man chuckles a little, but the smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s tired- of course he is, it’s now 2:30 in the morning. “Lo siento,” you offer in Spanish, cringing at yourself and your reaction just now. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here this late,” you stutter, still panting from the running. He shakes his head lightly. “You’re American,” he says simply. In English, in a beautifully American accented voice.

Your sweaty brow furrows, a glimmer of hope sparking inside your chest as you notice that he speaks like an American himself. “So are you.”

He nods at that. “That I am,” he says as he puts his things in a locker, snapping it shut behind him. He looks at you for a moment. You’re not working at the Embassy, or he’d know you. It was rare to find an American down here that wasn’t working for the government somehow. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, looking at how tired he appears in the big mirrored wall. He’s curious, but he’s exhausted. 

You look at him for a moment. “You going to explain anything, like, tell me about yourself? Or do I have to go first?” You ask, hands on your waist as you hop back on the slowly moving treadmill, back into moving. He doesn’t respond. “Fine. I know you’re government. I’m not an idiot.”

He chuckles and tugs on his t-shirt, moving to the treadmill next to you and getting on. It’s been ages since you’ve held a conversation in English, and you missed this, missed how easily your first language flows from your mouth. “And you’re not.”

“Correct,” you nod, turning up the speed a little on the machine until you’re at a light jog. “My bigger concern was going to be why you’re here at 2-fucking-30, but I’m guessing I know the answer. You get called in around here for the hit?” He nods, starting the treadmill up and walking on it. 

“You don’t have to be so guarded, Jesus. I fucking hate Escobar, I’m on your side,” you scoff before turning up the machine until you’re running once more.

Javier shrugs. “Makes sense. How did you know-”

“She died,” you say quickly and firmly, keeping your eyes straight ahead and looking at the room around you. “Add that to your file.”

He nods, understanding a little more now. You knew her somehow. He doesn’t say a word either, cranking up the machine and heading into a jog too.

A few more minutes pass of the two of you silently running next to each other, the American music still playing throughout the gym. It’s a comfort to Javier too. Tonight was shit for the DEA- they had known Escobar’s men would be around here. They had the intel, they had everything ready, but the men somehow had escaped and left a victim in their wake. 

The frustration of everything, of the man being something close to home for you yet being a brick wall, threatens your eyes with welling tears again. “I just wanted to talk with an American,” you sigh and cross your arms, moving back into the walking stage of a treadmill. 

The man next to you gives a similar sigh, stopping his treadmill completely and offering you a hand. “Javier Peña.” You take it reluctantly, feeling the sweat of both of your hands mix, and tell him your name before retracting it and stopping the treadmill too. “So, what brings you to the gym at 2:30?” He asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the center part of the treadmill. 

“I’m a nurse. I work the graveyard shift. Bad night, a patient died because she got fucking shot for having a boyfriend and not knowing he was a narco, I need to get something out, I come here,” you shrug, unconsciously mimicking him by folding your arms as well. 

He nods at that. “I’m here for the same. Shitty stakeout, I’m pissed off, I come here.” He leaves out the part about his favorite call girl being taken, and how he needed another way to get the rage inside of him out. He walks off of the treadmill and to the weight rack, pulling a bench beneath the bar.

You turn again and turn the machine back on, slowly jogging. “I see. Odd hours to be here, that’s why I asked,” you say simply. “And to see another American at such a time. I haven’t interacted with one since I came here.”

Javier nods, adjusting the weights on the bar. “Yeah. Weird,” he nods. “And that you’re an American who isn’t working for the government and you’re down here. What, you got a husband who works for us?”

You shake your head, swallowing hard for a moment. “No, don’t have a husband in the first place,” you admit, adjusting the ponytail holding your hair up. “It’s a long story.”

“We got time,” he shrugs as he gets on the bench beneath the rack, looking at you in the mirrored wall. Even with the sweat and the stress of working out, he notices that you’re gorgeous. You have a nice body, and even your face is pretty while you’re working out.

You shake your head. “Fine, if you really want to hear it.”

“Might as well. It’s that or more of this fucking Wham! music, and I’m sick of George Michael.”

“First of all, first person here gets the music, so mind your manners.” This finally earns a chuckle from the man, and you want to smile but it just can’t come. “I came down here with a man. He’s a citizen here. We were going to get married, but he left me. That was a couple of months ago now,” you admit, the tears beading in the corner of your eye again. “My work visa was still valid, and I renewed it so I can keep working at the hospital. I don’t really have anyone down here except the girls I work with, but I like helping out. They need me.” He nods a little as he listens, breaking his focus as he starts his reps with the bar.

“And you’re government, so that explains everything I need to know about you,” you continue to babble. “One of the girls I work with has a husband who’s at the Embassy. Murphy,” you say offhandedly. 

Javier’s attention is caught, and he sets the bar on the rack. “Murphy?” He asks, and you turn your head to look at him and give him a nod. “No shit. That’s my partner.”

You chuckle slightly and look back at him, stopping the treadmill. “So you know Connie?”

Javi nods. “Yeah, great gal. She could do better than Steve,” he says, sitting up.

You laugh softly at that. “From what I’ve heard of him, I agree. She’s a really great girl, you’re right,” you nod in agreement, looking back at him. “She’s never mentioned you. She says her husband’s in janitorial, but we all know that’s not true. What, you guys CIA? DEA?”

Javier nods again. “DEA.”

“I see,” you say, folding your arms and leaning against the machine. “Can’t make you many friends around here. I learned pretty quickly to keep my mouth shut about being a gringa. They can usually tell though.”

“You’re right,” he chuckles and cracks his back.

You bite your lip as you look at him, your voice watery when you can finally speak again, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion again. “It’s nice to talk to someone in English again,” you admit with a forced smile. 

He can read your eyes easily. You’re a nurse, and you told him that the victim died. You saw it. “It is,” he nods, reading your pain and trying to show you he empathizes with it. Your eyes are beautiful, he notices as he looks into them. So much more hope and trust than anyone else he works with, but the pain in them is unbearable. He looks away, leaning back on the bench to lift again.

“So where you from in the States?” You finally ask when the silence is too long. 

“Laredo, Texas,” he chuckles. “Yourself?”

[tloujm]

Part XVII: Funnel of Love

Author’s Notes: Sorry it took so long.

Genre: Fluff + Angst = this chapter

Summary: This takes place right after the last chapter. The newly engaged couple share the news with their loved ones. The wedding planning pressure is on. 

Ship: Joel x Reader

“Well, well, well. Big bro is doing it for real this time, huh.” Tommy began with a wide grin on his face. “Congratulations, Joel. I mean it. I always knew it was gonna be the two of you since the first day y’all showed up at the gates.” Joel relieved one of the watchtower guards so he could talk to Tommy about the proposal. They were both up in the small wooden shelter, rifles in hand, glancing between each other and the world beyond the gates.

“Thanks, brother.” Joel donned a bashful smirk.

“So do I get to be best man?” Tommy asked.

“Weren’t you already best man?” Joel countered.

“Yeah, but that time didn’t really count.” Tommy explained. Joel shot him a glare as a response to the dismissal of his first marriage. He knew that this time was different though, so he couldn’t blame him.

“‘Course you’re my best man.”

*****

“Joel? Miller? Of the infamous Miller brothers?” Jesse exclaimed.

“You knew we were together.” You said. Jesse was your closest friend at the settlement, therefore, he was the first person you told. You had reservations about sharing the news with him because, for a moment while you and Joel were broken up, you grew feelings for Jesse. It was something you never shared out loud or in your journal. Not sure of whether the feelings truly stemmed from Jesse himself or your emotions from Joel, you didn’t feel right giving weight to those thoughts. Despite Joel’s suggestion, you always figured Jesse’s feelings were purely platonic anyway.

“Yeah, I know. It just seems very official. I didn’t think people still did that these days.”

“He did manage to surprise me. It was very romantic. You should take some notes just in case you feel compelled to do the same with a special somebody.”

“Take notes? From Joel? Miller? I can be quite romantic on my own, thank you.” Jesse turned to you. “But listen, I’m happy for you. Whatever you need for your upcoming nuptials, let me know.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You responded. It fell silent for a moment while the two of you were cleaning up the stable. 

“I bet you Joel can get you guys a senior discount on a wedding cake from the bakery.” Jesse spoke up. He broke into a fit of laughter as you dropped your broom and threw a handful of hay at him.

“He is not even that old.” You responded defensively.

“No, no. He’s just regular old.” Jesse reasoned jokingly.

“He’s young at heart!”

“(Y/N), He plays the guitar on a rocking chair and whittles for fun.”

“He does other things for fun that I can tell you right now he is not too old for.” You replied with a coy tone in your voice. 

“Alright, alright.” Jesse shook his head playfully and continued sweeping up the straw on the ground. “The jury is still out on how old he is, but I suppose we can both agree that he’s not geriatric.” He reflexively ducked when he heard you drop the broom again to pick up some more hay. 

“So I’m invited to the wedding then?” He asked seriously.

“Of course you are! You’re my best friend.” You replied.

He clears his throat. “Yeah…”

*****

“Honey, I’m home.” Joel said. The words flew out his mouth in a jovial tone. He had never said those words before. It reminded him of a husband from the 1950s coming home from a day at the office. That particular visual didn’t enthuse him, but the idea of seeing you again did. He knew that he’d never wear a suit and work in an office, but he hoped that the rest of his life consisted of coming home to you.

“My love, I’m in here.” Your voice carried from the kitchen. He quickly followed until he stopped right behind you. His arms snaked around your waist as he kissed the top of your head. “What did you do today?”

“I spent some time with Tommy.” He went to go sit down at the island.

“Oh?”

“He asked how our trip went.” He began. You turned to face him.

“You told him about us?” You asked, smiling. He nodded.

“Yeah,” He chuckled. “He asked to be my best man. Did you tell Maria?”

“Yeah, I told her after Jesse.”

“Oh good. He knows.” He began sarcastically. “I better stop catchin’ him gazing at my bride then.”

“Joel, stop. He always knew we were together. But as for Maria, she was super excited. She started talking about wedding stuff like we weren’t living in some fungal zombie infested world. It’s not like I can go dress shopping, or cake tasting or pick out venues. I mean honestly, what’s the point of a wedding?”

“You don’t wanna have a wedding?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “All I want is to get married to you. She was just planning it all out the second I told her and I was feeling overwhelmed.”

“She’s just excited. Take a breath then go back and talk to her. If anyone’s got the connections to throw a wedding, it’s her.”

“What was your wedding like?” You asked.

“You wanna know?” You nodded. He sighed. “It wasn’t much. We cut costs wherever we could so I wore a hand-me-down suit from my dad and Tommy wore a hand-me-down suit from me. The only thing that matched on our suits were the buteniers. It was in one of her aunt’s backyard. It was dead in the middle of summer after school let out, but the only decorations were red, green and blue Christmas tree lights that she put on the bushes. I remember her aunt tasked me and Tommy with going to get some flowers. She gave us some money, but my God, I had no idea how expensive real flowers were. I bought Sarah’s mom a bouquet from the florist while Tommy dumpster dived for some dying flowers that they had just thrown out for the rest of the wedding party.” He shrugged. “The ceremony was quick. The reception was a potluck; everyone brought a dish and their own fold out chairs. Outside of my cousin singing a song, the music was from a boombox. It was simple, but it all came together. I had my own issues with my parents and her side of the family didn’t like me much after I knocked her up, but for that one day, we all got along and it was nice.” 

“Oh. Wow. At least everyone got along.”

He chuckled. “I know it was nothing impressive. It was a shotgun wedding for a couple of teenagers. But I don’t want you to worry about how that went. What matters is now and how we want things to go for us.”

You smiled. “Our wedding can go the exact same way and I wouldn’t care so long as you’re there.”

****

“So,” Maria slammed down a stack of wedding magazines on the coffee table. “I think looking through these would be a good start.”

Maria invited you and some other women over one evening to have a girls night. She had never done this before, but she felt your impending marriage was a good excuse to have one. You didn’t have many female friends. Most were acquaintances, so none of them were as close as Maria and Wendy to you. They were there, but so were a handful of others you’ve only ever spoken to in passing.

Maria had a growing wine collection. She would trade for a bottle or two every so often. For your special occasion, she dusted off two bottles. Wendy made you a homemade pin that said “Bride to be” which she insisted you wear all night. Maria passed the magazines all around the circle you guys made on the floor.

“Maria, where did you get all of these.” You asked.

“I’ve had them all this time. While I was on a scavenging trip one day, and this was years and years ago, I saw them and grabbed them. It was impulsive. I don’t know. Me and Tommy had been together for a while and you know, naturally I started hearing wedding bells even though he never really proposed. I know it's silly to expect happiness in the middle of all this craziness, but it became normal for him and I and despite all this, he stuck by my side. I spent my whole life pre-outbreak wanting a wedding. I mean I wasn’t obsessed with it, but what girl doesn’t want a little fairytale wedding?”

“Tommy never proposed? I thought you guys were married?” Sheila spoke up in between sips.

“We’re basically married. Obviously not under law, but we committed ourselves to each other. I wanted to stop running and just build a future, even a tiny one, for us. He wanted the same. So we settled down and built this place. Well ‘settle down’ as much as we can in this type of world now. But, it was all casual. He brought it up one day while we were eating. He asked if I’d ever want a husband. He asked if it mattered to me.”

“What did you say?” Wendy asked.

“I told him, of course it mattered. At least to me. He gave me that famous Miller half smile,” Maria looked to you as to say ‘You know what I’m talking about’. “And asked if I thought he was husband material. I kinda strung him along for fun. I told him ‘As close to husband material as he can get’. He let out this little laugh and said ‘Well it’s settled then.’ and I thought to myself, I get to be someone’s wife! But not just anyone’s wife, his wife. At that point I couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t a proposal in the traditional sense. I guess it still counts, but we never did anything about it since. I guess we just assumed marriage from that point on. We expressed our love for each other, but never spoke the traditional vows. He never called me his fiance. As a matter of fact, the first time I heard him call me his wife to another person was when you and Joel showed up at our door.” She spoke in a roller coaster of tones, switching between enthusiastic and disappointed. “So I want you to have something special to commemorate this moment with. It’s not going to be a big, fancy wedding, but something nice nonetheless.” She said to you.

“Thank you.” You replied.

“Ohhh, look at this dress! I think this would go great with your figure, honey.” Darlene stated as she handed you the opened magazine. You admitted it was nice, but you couldn't see yourself in it. 

“That’s a bit plain, don’t you think? How about this one.” Maria handed you her magazine. The dress was exceptionally grand. It had a train and was adorned with crystals and lace.

“That’s quite the dress, Maria.” You commented, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

“But do you like it?” She asked.

“I do,” It wasn’t a whole lie. “But what’s the point in looking at dresses? I’m not gonna be wearing any of them from these magazines. I don’t own any white dresses at all. Just a white t shirt with sweat stains and holes in ‘em.”

“It doesn’t hurt to fantasize a little bit. Besides, maybe we’ll go out and find a store with something nice to wear inside.” She replied. 

“Drink up, honey, you're supposed to be happy.” Darlene said as she watched you nurse your glass.

“I am happy.” You replied with a straight face.

“Let’s play This or That and let’s pretend it was 13 years ago and the world was normal again. I’ll ask you to choose between two different things, wedding themed of course. I want you to give me an answer quickly to ensure it’s the truest answer.” Maria suggested.

“What were you doing 13 years ago?” Darlene asked you.

“Just graduated college. Didn’t even get a chance to apply my degree anywhere.”

“Oh, you were just a youngin’. Still had milk ‘hind your ears.” She playfully slapped your thigh. “And let’s see...Joel must have been how old…” She pondered seriously.

“Vanilla or chocolate?” Maria spoke up.

“What?” You asked.

“Cake. Vanilla or chocolate for your wedding cake?”

“Uh, chocolate.”

“Outdoor or indoor venue?”

“Indoor, I guess.”

“DJ or band?”

“DJ?”

“Lillies or Peonies for your bouquet?”

“I don’t think I know what peonies look like, to be honest.”

For the rest of the night, you and the other women played wedding themed games that you were sure Maria made up. They fiddled with your hair and dabbed beet juice on your lips and cheeks to appear as makeup. Despite Darlene rubbing you the wrong way, you took her advice and ‘drunk up’. Getting loose helped, but it still was all a bit overwhelming to you. Part of you wanted the fairytale like Maria said, but part of you didn’t even want it at all. While a fairytale would look nice, it would come with too many cons and then you would think ‘what was the point’. There would be too many people, and as an introvert, you weren’t prepared for that. Having to coordinate a large amount of food to feed the party, acquire a form of entertainment to keep everyone busy, ceremony rehearsals, picking loyalties when choosing between your sister in law and your good friend for made of honor and so on. Honestly none of your female friends were as close to you as Jesse, though, but you didn’t think he nor Joel would be cool with him being your main bridesmaid. 

Still buzzed, you walked into your empty house and beelined it to the bathroom. You sat at the edge of the tub, warm water running through your fingers as you watched it fill up. You grabbed your portable CD player and headphones out the drawer next to the toilet. You adjusted yourself into the inviting bath and immediately slipped your head under the surface. Being underwater was always a relaxing feeling for you so long as you knew you were in control. Your hands held onto the sides of the tub, keeping you under. You stayed there with your eyes closed until you couldn’t take it anymore. The curls of your hair laid flat against your head as you took in a large breath. As weird as it was, it helped the anxiety that you were currently harboring. The cherry on top was your music. You reached over the edge and felt for the play button before sliding the headphones over your ears. Again, you closed your eyes. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular: your patrol duty tomorrow morning, your promise to have lunch with Maria and Darlene, and sure as hell not your wedding. 

The buzz was wearing off, but the warm water took over the job and continued to relax your muscles. You were three songs into the album you were listening to when they abruptly tensed up. Your eyes popped open at the sudden splash of water that landed on your chest. It felt as though only a moment ago you were alone in the world and now sitting on the edge of the tub is Joel. He watched as you scooted up, sloshing the water around. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to splash you that hard.” He chuckled before pointing to your CD player. “You gotta be careful with this, (Y/N), you know. Gotta have your wits about you even in a place like Jackson---”

“I know, I just wanted to unwind for a moment---” You butted in.

“I don’t mean to chastise you like you’re a child, but I just want you to be safe. What if it wasn’t me here.”

“All the doors are locked.” You reasoned.

“Still.” He gave you his famous glare for a solid moment before his eyes drifted down to your body in the water. “Room for one more?” He lifted his eyebrow.

You frowned. “I was about to get out.”

“Didn’t look like that to me, darlin’. If I’d chosen to watch you for longer, you’d still be laying there with your eyes closed.”

“How long were you watching me for?” You asked, starting to feel a mix of self consciousness and arousal.

“Doesn’t matter.” Joel’s face was rid of emotion save from his eyes. His eyes were lit up with lust despite your rejection.

“The water was getting cold. I was just waiting for the song to end before getting out.”

He lifted the same eyebrow. “Is that so?” His eyes followed your body as you stood up in the tub. He unfolded his arms and grabbed the towel on the back of the door. Holding it out, you stepped out of the tub and into the soft fabric. He slid his hands up your arms before massaging your shoulders. His hands were rough and ungentle, but you still let him continue. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong. Who hurt you? I’ll go grab Tommy’s bat and smash their kneecaps in.”

You chuckled. “While I’m sure you would,” You turned around, releasing your shoulders from his grip. “No one hurt me. I’m just...I just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Care to share?” He asked. You shrugged. “Was it something that happened at Maria’s?”

“She threw me a bridal shower.”

He sat on the toilet and pulled you down onto his lap. “That was nice of her.”

“I mean yeah, it was nice. It just...It felt forced. Women were there that I hardly knew. We were planning the wedding, imagining details I knew would never work. I feel like Maria wants this to happen more than I do and I hate that. I should want this the most. I mean I do want this,” You point between you and him. “But I just don’t know how I want to go about it. I thought seeing her again would help me make up my mind about things, but I feel just as confused and flustered.”

He kissed your shoulder. “I don’t want you to stress out over this. It’ll all work out, because the most important thing in the end is that we have each other. I promise,” He kissed your shoulder again. “Ok?” He waited for you to say it back before tapping your thigh. “Now, just because you didn’t want me to get in with you doesn’t mean I don’t want a nice, relaxing bath too. Last chance before you put your clothes on.” He pointed between you, him and the tub as if asking for you to join him. 

You smile with a shake of your head. “No, my skin is all wrinkly but I promise to only keep the towel on if you promise not to make me wait long.” You winked at him. 

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Boombox love

summary: Peter Parker and Y/N Stark hadn’t had a fight for a long time if we are being honest, but when Quentin Beck appears again and fucks everything up by escaping, it isn’t pretty. Y/N feels like she can’t handle or maintain Tony’s legacy, while Peter is afraid of Y/N behaviors and wants to make it better because he loves her so much. And so, what better thing than to pull off a move from movies in the 80’s?

word count: 6.1k 

author’s note: I finally have time to write with the quarantine, which is a great plus. This has help me so much to deal with my feelings and i’m so happy to write again. I’ll be updating Back to you sooner than you think, I just hit a bump. but basically I’m trying that my blurbs match with the series. Let me know what you think of this blurb! 

                                                     ______

“How could you let him go away!” you yelled as both of you entered Stark Tower. “You know what it meant for us to catch him? Do I need to remind you what he has done?”

You hadn’t felt this frustrated or annoyed in a long time and the pain in your arm wasn’t making it any better. In fact, as you finally stepped down on the floor you could feel the ache in your whole body.

“I was saving you!” Peter shouted back as he gave a flip and entered the penthouse were Bruce was already waiting for you with a whole medical team behind him. “Why are you so mad!?”

Your suit began dematerializing as you gave two steps forward and finally reached the stretcher, a sigh of content left your lips while your body was buzzing with pain. But still, you couldn’t stop thinking about that egocentric maniac running away and especially on Peter’s watch. You had him and he let him go.

“Please, sedate her and let’s go quickly to the medical wing, we need some x-rays for that arm and her chest”, Bruce yelled as the male nurse placed the IV in your hand and you winced.

“No, I don’t want to be sedated. I can handle it”, you protested as hard as you could while glaring at him and Peter who was just behind him.

“Y/N, don’t start”, Bruce and Peter said at the same time.

“Bruce, a whole wall fell above her, I tried to get her as quickly as I could but she cou-” Peter tried to speak, his voice was anxious and as he took off the mask you could see he had shed a few tears.

It broke your heart. 

But for some reason, you couldn’t forgive Peter at the moment, you couldn’t, the rage was still boiling your blood as your mind rewind the words that Mysterio had said to you before be pushed a whole damn wall above you.

“I am okay, you let him go because of nothing Peter, I can save myself”, you snapped, but between the medical staff, you felt like your voice was getting lost or maybe it was because it was getting harder to breathe.

Quickly, another nurse placed an oxygen mask on your face, you needed it since you were getting out of breath and closed your eyes in relief, leaving you without any other word you wanted to let Peter know.

“I know you did your best Peter, it’s okay I don’t think she could have a compression fracture but we are going to confirm it” Bruce stated, as he followed the stretcher, they needed to carry you to the medical wing as fast as they could.

Peter was left behind on the penthouse, in his suit with his mask on his hand, alone.

Peter and you, usually you never fought. It had to be about very big deals or you could fuss about stupid things that would be forgotten after an hour but he felt like this one was different. Since he had become a part of the Avengers, a part of your world he knew right away that he would do anything on his hands to protect you, he knew it from the moment he saw you that whatever happened he was going to choose you over anyone. Last year, with everything that had happened with the snap, with Mysterio, with Thanos, with Tony…

Before Peter knew it, the floor was shaking and there was his fist, inside the wall of the penthouse, his breathing shaky as he felt the sand falling down his hand as tears began spilling down his face, he was so scared that he was going to lose you again.

                           …

“So, what happened after that?”, an old Steve asked as you sat down in the conference room of the compound, you huffed as your heart squeezed while you tried to remember every little word that Beck had told you.

It had been a week since the attack, you had been let out of the medical wing two nights ago by Bruce, although he and Pepper weren’t really excited about it. Turns out that you had almost had a compressed fracture which had you worried since the nanotech usually could withstand anything but as you realized while you were examining the history data of your suit, the nanobots had been seriously damaged before the wall fell thanks to the bullets, which made your resentment grow.

But also, this week you hadn’t been talking to Peter.

He had gone to the tower and tried to visit multiple times, but you had refused to talk to him, you were avoiding him at all costs until now. Debriefs could be fun, but at the moment you couldn’t hate it more, it was draining to remember again the fight with Mysterio. But somehow, you felt better that you had time before debriefing, turns out that almost having a compressed fracture was serious, who knew? Bruce wanted to leave you for a few more days but you were done with it, so instead, you negotiated with him daily sessions for two weeks of breathing therapy and a cast on your left arm for two weeks as well.

You had been handling as best as you could, it had been actually a while since you had injuries like this. They were provoked by Mysterio as well but the last time, last time he hadn’t use his tricks, mostly the illusions he had used were for hiding, but this was a mental game for him, he wanted to break you and as you felt unable to see Peter while you sat there, you thought that he might.

                           …

“Peter, go right!”, you yelled on your com as you flew towards Mysterio with all the force that you could, H.A.P.P.Y was calculating what was the best way to attack him but as soon as you fire your repulsor, he wasn’t in front of you anymore, the shot just hit another wall of the empty building where you guys had found his new layer.

You watched in disbelief as you turned around and tried to look for him, but no, he wasn’t there and nor was Peter.

You were alone.

“I mean, I thought you were better than that Y/N…”

You felt Beck’s whisper behind your shoulder and cold creeps climbed on your back, you reacted as soon as you could by firing the repulsor again as you turned around, but Beck wasn’t there it was Peter. You could see how his body flew and hit one of the columns of the warehouse, you winced as his body crashed onto the floor, you could hear the groaning in the com.

“Peter!”, you yelled to see if he was okay as you flew towards where he was laying down.

“Y/N, shit…” Peter whispered as he touched his torso where you had fire him, you knew that his suit was built to withstand your repulsors because Tony knew that if that someone stole that technology, they could seriously harm you or Peter, or anyone of the team for that matter.

“I’m coming, just hang on babe”, you mumbled but before you could touch Peter something hit you on your side and you flew away hitting the floor with full blunt force, the sound of the gun leaving you dizzy.

You groaned as you look up and saw Mysterio chuckling to himself while being surrounded by new drones, drones that were different from the ones being controlled by E.D.I.T.H., they seemed bigger and as H.A.P.P.Y scanned them, you realized they were far more lethal.

“Mrs. Stark, they are equipped with a M156A4, they are highly potent. You should avoid them at all costs”, H.A.P.P.Y. said as the screen analyzed their position and how could you get rid of them.

“Thought me and dad had made these suits bulletproof, H.A.P.P.Y”, you grumbled as you stood up ready to get rid of Beck and his fishbowl ass. “Heard that, Peter?”

“Yeah, I know, I know”, Peter replied as he stood up from the floor, his stand ready to attack Mysterio.

“I had missed seeing you on the floor, being unable to defeat me”, he said smugly, “What would the great Tony Stark think if he could see you right now?” Mysterio laughed.

Something squeezed in your heart as soon as you heard your father’s name, you felt like your whole body was buzzing with rage, you couldn’t hear H.A.P.P.Y’s recommendations, you couldn’t hear what else he was gloating about, you could only hear your heartbeat and how you wanted to blow that fishbowl from his face.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about my dad”

One blow.

Two blows.

One drone down.

Three blows.

Peter’s web.

Another drone down.

Peter crashed down one, another drone down.

Four, five blows.

Another one down.

“Keep going Y/N”, Peter yelled as he wrapped another drone with his webs and pulled it down, making it crash against the floor.

You kept firing, blow after blow, getting closer to Mysterio who was now forming a fist with his hand as he saw how close you were and how Peter was taking down drones by the minute, avoiding bullets as fast as he could.

“Mrs. Stark, avoid the bullets”, H.A.P.P.Y repeated over the com but this was working, a stable position, facing the bullets if they managed to touch you, although you were avoiding them as best as you could.

None had hit you at the moment, some had to graze you and you were sure you were going to get bruises but at this point, the adrenaline was too high to stop you, you were so close to him, both of you were. You saw how Peter began recognizing drones that had the holographic technology, you smirked as your sight came back at Mysterio. It was over for him after so long you were going to finally catch him.

But as you fired one more, towards Beck, everything turned black.

You felt your breathing stop for a second as you tried your best not to panic. You knew how to handle yourself in these situations, you had talked with Peter to face them, you knew it was a lie.

“H.A.P.P.Y, where are the drones?”, you asked as you waited for your AI to answer you, to show you the heat prints to attack but there was no answer.

Instead, you heard that spine-chilling laugh of Beck, it erased any other sound, you could hardly hear your heart that was beating erratically in your chest. It was one of his games, one of his illusions. He wanted to play with your head and somehow the panic on your chest announced that you weren’t winning.

“You are quite an interesting girl, Y/N”, you heard his voice, muffled as you tried to follow it the best. But it was coming from everywhere, it was coming from the darkness, it was coming for you. “Such a hard exterior, for what? I can see right through you; you are just an afraid child”

Before you knew it, you were there. The compound was destroyed again, the debris surrounded you, the sky was grey and there was an ominous tension in the air. You began breathing faster as you turned around and saw Thor, Steve, and Tony, glaring at you…at you? No, there was no way because at that moment you were behind them looking for Clint, your dad had asked you to go and get him as soon as he had seen Thanos. And so, you felt it, behind you, The Mad Titan, watching you with a sneer but such hatred in his eyes.

“Are you afraid, Y/N?”, Beck whispered over your shoulder and you turned around and tried to hit him but there was no one, the hologram 3D-view dissipated for a second letting you see that you had hit a wall. “Do you want your father back?”

“Stop your games, I’m not afraid of you Beck”, you growled as you turned around to see if there was any sign of Peter.

A moment of silence, dead silence as you felt The Mad Titan behind you while you tried to keep your eyes on your father figures, on the people you loved.

“You are not enough, you were never enough for your father, not for the world”, Beck pondered as you felt your muscles freeze when you heard him. “You were supposed to be the next Iron Man, but guess who they liked more?”

You knew you had to deal with is before, after Tony didn’t make it, it was the question everyone was wondering and your heart broke because it hadn’t changed on the past year, the weight on your shoulders was increasing.

“I’m not afraid”, you repeated, but this time it seemed like it was more for yourself.

“Oh, but you should be…”

It was all you heard before you were being pushed and pulled by an army of outrides, you were in the middle of the field again, they wanted to eat you and so you felt the first bullet on your back, you fell on the floor as more and more outrides came for you. Another bullet, to your shoulder and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you felt like you were choking.

It was overwhelming, you knew it wasn’t real but it felt like too much.

You yelled with all the force that you had and stood up, you didn’t care anymore about the army outrides that surrounded you or the pain on your chest and shoulder, you needed to fight. You fired the repulsors with all the energy that your suit could give and turned around trying to hit anything you could.

You saw how the energy broke the 3D-vision model, crumbling and drones falling, it somehow calmed you as you saw the building again and the vision of that day began failing.

“It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real”, you repeated to yourself, as you finished to turn.

“Oh, but it was real Y/N”, Beck said as he appeared in front of you.

Your brows bumped together to see how relaxed he was as he smirked, you felt tears falling down your eyes and you stayed frozen at the same place because you didn’t know if it was another trick. Then, Beck fell face-first on the floor and you smirked: He was real, he was there and Peter was kicking his ass. It was it, it was what you had been waiting for, for a year you had wanted to kick Mysterio’s ass.

As you began to walk towards them, you heard a growl coming from behind you, on the left side and as you turned around you saw the crack that you had provoked with your repulsors and then the wall was shaking, shaking towards you. You tried to give a step o even two, you couldn’t remember anything but the growl and then dust, clouds of dust that didn’t let you see farther than your right hand.

And the screaming, you didn’t realize that the cries of pains came from you for a few seconds, as the dust settled you tried to calm yourself and tried to get up, you really tried but the wall was way too strong or maybe you were too weak. Your breathing was heavy and you knew you could lift it, you had done things so much more difficult but at the time you only managed to bend your knees and with all the force you had and place your right hand to withstand the force. You couldn’t see Peter but at the moment you were hoping he was webbing Beck and then coming from you, you needed a little help if you were being honest.

Before you knew it, you saw the black and red suit and you sighed in relief.

But not for long, because as soon as you got out of under the wall and asked where Beck was, Peter muttered that he had to let him go.

                             …

“I fell in one of his visions”, you said as you swallowed hard and tried to hold back any emotion. “He just reminded me how…how I haven’t been able to make dad proud”

Everyone in the room froze as you mentioned Tony, it had been a while since you had wanted to talk to them about him. You had been pretty reserved after Tony passed away, Pepper and Peter being the only ones who actually knew how you had been feeling after everything with Thanos because it hadn’t been easy. It had never been easy. For some wild reason, you felt guilty that you hadn’t done the same kind of grieve that you had done when Peter died in the snap, but you felt like now being older you had to hold yourself together better. But deep down you were still avoiding them and you had, once again, build these large walls so no one could come in.

Peter could see the tears threatening to fall from your eyes and he wanted to hold you so bad, he wanted to sleep with you again and tell you that everything was going to be fine, that you didn’t need to worry about being the next Ironman but just Y/N Stark. Peter had been the only one trying to crash those walls down and he had been succeeding the last few months but when Mysterio came back, it just reinforced them as Peter identified your feelings on Tony passing away. Now it seemed that for you, catching Mysterio was somehow the only way you could deal with your dad’s death.

But before he could move, he felt like you were going to do so first.

And you did.

“Then, a wall fell over me”, you announced as you stood up from the conference table and walked towards the exit. “Uncle Steve, may I leave? I’m not feeling well”

You knew it was childish, your behavior should be better because it was your responsibility to control your emotions, this was one of the first things Nat had taught you when you began training and it annoyed you to your core that you weren’t able to manage them currently being 22 years old. Therefore, you knew you couldn’t storm off like a crazy teenager, you knew better than that and so you decided to get out of the situation in the politest way as possible.

Steve didn’t have much left to say, he didn’t want to bother you anymore and especially with Tony, it was hard for all of them.

“Go ahead, kid”

It was the only thing you heard before the door opened and you walked through the hallways of the compound. It had been rebuilt and so, you could get kind of lost because it wasn’t the same as before, it was, in fact, smaller than before since you had lost half of the initial team and were on the way of rebuilding it. Tony would’ve wanted that, so you gave it a go as soon as Steve and Sam asked you if you were okay with it since now it was your real estate.

You were so lost in your train of thought that you barely stood in a fighting position when Peter grabbed your wrist.

“What the hell Peter, you scared me!”, you yelled as you turned around to see a bleak Peter Parker, your heart squeezed in your chest as you saw him because deep down you knew it wasn’t fair. You sighed, “I’m sorry, what do you want to talk about?”

Peter breathe deeply, his jaw tightened as his eyes were glued to yours.

“I want to talk about how my girlfriend has been avoiding me for a week, how you haven’t let me see you even though you were in a bad condition, how you are running away from me, again”, Peter fumed as you remained silent. “It’s not fair Y/N, for me or you, it’s not fair what you are doing”

And he was right, he was right.

But you were feeling this anger towards him for letting Mysterio go, for letting the only way you felt that you could compensate your dad after what had happened once he died.

“Excuse me? Do you know what’s not fair? It’s not fair that we’ve been chasing Mysterio for a whole year and trying to clean his mess and when we are about to catch him, you are not capable of at least webbing him enough before going for me?”, you scoffed and you knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Peter’s eyes began squeezing a bit and how his lips pursed when he heard you. 

“I did, I fucking did Y/N! But you wanted me to maybe risk that you could be seriously hurt or dead because you wanted to catch him? I know what he did to you, I’ve been through it and you know it more than anyone but I’m not going to say sorry for saving you, I’m not going to be sorry for that because it’s what everyone has taught me since we became avengers, what Tony told me all the time, you are my mission”, Peter finished, his eyes watery while he exhaled noisily through his pursed lips.

You felt your eyes filling with tears but you fought them trying to keep them in as your face turned into a scowl.

This was it, this was the anger because right now you needed him to understand that you had stopped being the mission, you were the one in charge now, you were the one that people would turn to see if the avengers were doing the right thing. You felt like Peter didn’t understand the burden you carried all the time.

“You don’t get it. I live in his fucking nightmare, there’s not a night or a day that I don’t think about my dad or how after all that Mysterio did risk our life’s when he trashed you and me while he pretended to be dead. How he almost managed to let you become a criminal and me an accomplice, how he damaged my father’s reputation, his legacy!”, you yelled without realizing your voice was so high.

“You are his legacy Y/N, when are you going to understand it that you are every day doing what Tony taught you, that you are succeeding in being the best daughter you can!”, Peter yelled back at you as he tried to come closer to you but you step away.

“I’m not succeeding Peter, if I was anything like my dad, I would’ve caught Beck since day one. He wouldn’t have done what he did to us and look at us now!”, you responded as tears began streaming down your face, as Peter watched in horror.

“I don’t care if I’m your mission, Peter! I can’t be the mission anymore; I have to be the leader and not the girl everyone has to take care of. I refuse to let you overprotect me and confined me to be the failure of a daughter that Tony has at this moment”, you finally muttered as you turned your back on Peter and continued walking.

Peter’s heart broke as he heard your words and he wanted to stop you so bad but he knew better than to do that. The thing was that Peter was afraid as well about your behavior, for him you were his world. Even after he came back and you were much older than him, he still saw you as that seventeen-year-old girl he saw in her lab building her suit and although Peter wanted with all his heart to let go of you and let you be who you were now, it was still hard for him because sometimes he felt like he missed so much of your growth that he might not know how to act or who you were. You had been trying to work it out as a couple, you were but sometimes it was tricky because of the life arenas you were in, both of you were in college but on different stages. And so, a year had passed and Peter hadn’t left that fear behind, enter how paranoiac and afraid he had been in the last week that you had decided not to talk to him.

He sighed as he returned towards the conference room, feeling defeated as he scratched his head trying to figure out what he could do to make you feel better. There were many ideas, so many ideas but they didn’t seem to be good enough. Peter did a mental list on what ideas he could do but they weren’t good enough:

• Movie night: No, because to see a movie you had to agree first and Peter felt like you weren’t in the mood. 

• Fancy dinner date? No, because last few weeks you had wanted to stay home, plus the paparazzi could come for both of you and at the moment there was nothing worse than being seen in a public setting. 

• Go to a pub or a club? No, neither you or Peter drank unless it was in a very private setting and like you wouldn’t be even able to talk about it.

• Go upstate with Morgan and Pepper? Ok, maybe but it would just be worse if you were not feeling it and Pepper would force you to share all these feelings and ugh. It wasn’t looking good.

Until something popped into Peter’s mind and he smirked. 

…

As you arrived at your room you simply flopped into the bed, your eyes were stinging and you felt like you wanted to sleep a million years. The crying had stopped as soon as you arrived at Stark Tower but it hadn’t through the whole drive over there, thankfully Pepper took Morgan on the weekends to the cabin Upstate; after Tony died, Pepper had thought long and hard what they should do and at the moment the easier thing for her as CEO of Stark Industries and living in Stark Tower was going to help her but both of you decided it was the best to keep the cabin since it was Morgan’s home and so, all the weekends you tried to go. But at this moment, you wanted to be alone.

“Mrs. Stark”, H.A.P.P.Y announced while you groaned, “Mrs. Potts is calling and Mr. Roger, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Banner have been calling as well”

You frowned.

“No Peter?”, you asked as you rolled onto your back.

“No, would you like me to call him?”, H.A.P.P.Y asked but you knew it wasn’t the time. “He has been leaving quite a lot of messages but nothing since you came back from the compound”

You sit on your bed as you thought.

You had learned, after the snap, that you had to make the situation better by yourself, at the end of the day it was your responsibility to make your life better and no one else was going to change it for you. To do so, you had to be alone and gather your thoughts, figure out what was your next move as if you were on a fight; like what Nat and Steve had taught you.

“I don’t want to contact Peter yet, H.A.P.P.Y”, you said as you stood up from your bed and tied your hair into a ponytail while you ran to the elevator. “Please, tell Pepper and everyone that I’m in my lab. They’ll know I’m okay”

“As you say so, Mrs. Stark”, H.A.P.P.Y addressed before you got out of the elevator into the lab floors.

Working on your suit it was almost as mediating for you, it was just you and the technology with H.A.P.P.Y. helping you from time to time. It was one of your favorite places on the world, it was your place, you had another lab in the compound that was much bigger and had more things than the one in Stark Tower, but this one was your first, it seemed like a safe place. Usually, you liked to be left alone but a lot of people could join in and make things better, Tony was -obviously- the first one, sometimes he would miss flights or meetings to be with you in the lab working on whatever thing you had in mind. Bruce join later once you met him and you felt like he had a similar feeling of meditation once he was in his zone, you talked a bit but it was much more silence than when Tony came in. Finally, when Peter came into the lab with you, it was like everything made sense, you were in sync all the time and you didn’t have to talk a lot to know what the other wanted, it was one of your favorite things in the world.

You sat down in your chair as you took off the necklace and press the pendant that hanged from it and your suit materialized in front of the table, you examined it to see how Mysterio had actually damaged it.

“H.A.P.P.Y, give me a full review on what the hell happened to my suit last time, okay?”, you said as you watched how the information began appearing in a hologram version in front of you.

You didn’t exactly know how many hours you lasted in there, fixing your suit, calibrating it, coding the new program to identify Mysterio’s holograms.

But at the end of the day you knew three things:

The first thing you found out was the incredible burden and guilt you felt because of Tony’s death; there was no other way to put it because it was too much. In a few months it was going to be a year of his death and you wanted so bad to let him go but you couldn’t, hence the second thing. The thought of not making him proud, of not standing by his legacy made you feel like someone had to stab you on your chest. It was barely impossible for you to let go of your dad without fixing the mess you had done in his absence. Deep down you knew that it wasn’t all your fault, you didn’t create Mysterio but you hadn’t shown all the abilities that you had learned from Tony to stop him, that Mysterio had won was as if someone had kicked you in the chest and stomach and left you without the possibility to breath. And so, you realized you were more upset towards yourself than you were with Mysterio or anyone else. The third thing you figure out was that you were being an asshole to Peter Parker and it broke your heart.

Deep down, you knew how insecure Peter felt after he had come back from the snap and how it had been kind of tricky to navigate your relationship being in different stages of life. You had grown so much in the time that he wasn’t here, but it didn’t mean you stopped loving him or that your relationship didn’t felt as easy and loving as it did, it only meant there were more things that you had to overcome. But the way you were acting wasn’t mature and could give Peter a wrong impression of your feelings and it made you want to hurl the more you thought about it. Peter didn’t deserve it, after everything he had gone through he didn’t need this over his head and the more you thought about it, you just wanted to hold Peter so close to you and pulled him into a kiss, the urge grew so much more than as you were coding you simply stood up from your lab and ran towards your room to pick your phone and call him.

“H.A.P.P.Y, call Peter, I’ll answer in my room”, you ordered the AI as you entered the elevator, your feet moving anxiously.

It wasn’t fair, it was a mess how you had been acting and he didn’t deserve it.

The doors opened and you ran through the apartment, thinking what you were going to say to him, trying to figure out if you should just drive to Queens or take an old suit and fly there. Maybe you could get a pizza and convince him to watch a movie with you, or maybe a fancy dinner date and he would appreciate it because he knew how much you didn’t want to go to a public place, or maybe even go to a club? But…

Your thoughts quickly faded away as you opened the door to your room.

The windows that reached the ceiling and the floor were letting you see a beautiful view of Midtown Manhattan, the lights were so bright that they gave your room a certain glow while your room was dark, but most importantly Peter was hanging by a threat upside down while holding a very very very old boombox in his hands that was loudly playing Can’t help falling in love with you, he was dressed as Spiderman but his mask was off and you couldn’t help to smile as soon as you saw him.

It was a no-brainer for you that Peter was the love of your life, there was no denying that you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Peter Parker.

You ran towards the window and jumped in the bed trying to quickly open the window that Peter’s face was in front of. His smile was so lighthearted and his eyes were glowing with this happiness you usually saw when both of you were together. On the other hand, Peter’s heart was thumping so loud for him, he wanted to make it right and this was the cheesiest way he thought he could but this was different than any other fought you had and he just wanted you to realize that this wasn’t about Spiderman or Mysterio or the Avengers; this was about you and him, as girlfriend and boyfriend, as partners, as soulmates.

“I’m sorry about this week, it wasn’t fair and you were right to do what you did”, you whispered as you poke your head out through the windows and your eyes were glued to his.

Peter nodded

“I’m sorry that I didn’t understand better what you are going through”, Peter answered, his eyes full with regret but with the earnest smile you had seen him give to you.

But you shook your head.

“No Peter, you shouldn’t know and I should’ve told you”, a few tears escaped your eyes and Peter quickly glued the boombox to the outside window with his webs as he wiped the tears from your face.

Both of you remained quiet and still for a second, looking at each other and listening, the song finally changed to Make you feel my love and you smiled.

Peter felt like his heart was going to explode as he saw you.

“You know you are the love of my life, right?”, you muttered as you began playing with his chocolate curls.

He smiled as he heard your heart beating in your chest, he was so happy to see that smile again, to hear you saying those words.

“Really? I couldn’t te-”

Peter managed to mumble before you pulled him into a passionate kiss, your lips crashing with passion as your mouths moved in sync, you whimpered into the kiss because of how strong it was and Peter felt a growl in his throat as you pulled his hair a little bit, just the way he liked it. You tasted like heaven, while he tasted like all your favorite things in the world.

You finally pulled apart and placed your forehead against his, both of you smiling, both of you finally calmed down.

“So, you want to come in?”, you whispered and Peter’s cheeks turned crimson red as he figured out what you suggested.

But he shook his head.

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to give a ride with me?”, Peter suggested with a smirk.

Cut to both of you navigating Manhattan, hanging on to Peter’s web and yelling as you jumped from building to building, watching the city. 

_______________________________________________________________________

TAG LIST: @erindanus​ @spideylovin​ @zlamaneserca​ @bethanystan​ @cedricisnotonfire​ @myraticm​

[deceitfuldevil]

Rose Hips — P.P

Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: You and Peter have been back and forth flirting for too long, but a shampoo change and a craving for a certain snack late at night leads you to be saved by the one and only Spider-Man, who acts and sounds just like your best friend. . .

Warnings: swearing, use of a gun, etc.

Word Count: 4.6K

“Jesus Christ, how are we already halfway through May?” MJ asked, rubbing her eyes, she had obviously taken a nap on the bus ride to school.

“Well since today’s the 15th and there’s thirty-one days in May there’s no one whole day that’s a halfway mark of the month” Ned explained simply, earning a look from MJ as he did so.

“It was a rhetorical question dipshit.” You chuckled lightly and looked to Peter for his reaction, but he was lightly snoring with his face uncomfortably pressed into a desk. You were about to nudge him so he’d be awake for first period but when the bell rang he shot up, red lines across his left cheek from laying on the desk.

—

You were usually the first to lunch as you had 5th period gym and 6th period lunch and the two were right next to each other. But today when you got down to the cafeteria you saw Peter sitting, or really sleeping at your usual table. Which was odd because his 5th period was chemistry on the 3rd floor, and the cafeteria was on the first floor; he was usually the last one to lunch.

“Jeez Pete, how much sleep did you get?” you said taking a seat next to him at the circular table, opening up your brown paper lunch bag.

“Huh?!” You must’ve startled Peter because she shot up with a jolt. You were always concerned for his well being but as of lately he seemed to be doing worse. He’s changed a lot since he took that Stark internship last year.

“I said...” You started, looking into his bloodshot eyes that practically caved into his face.

“How much sleep did you get?”

“7 hours...” he said with a grumble, obviously not wanting to be awake at the moment

“If you got seven hours of sleep last night then why do you-”

“This week”

“What?”

“I got seven hours of sleep this week,” he said plainly, rubbing his eyes as MJ quietly sat down at the table with the two of you.

“Wow, that’s a new record” she said sarcastically.

“Peter that isn’t good, you need to take care of yourself!” You said in a matter-of-fact kind of a way, gently cupping his face in your small hands as he flashed a small smile.

“Are you coming to our study session tonight?” Fridays were you and Peter’s designated hang out day, which started Freshman year just to coax your parents into letting you have a boy over but now the two of you just watch movies and pig out on junk food. However, you still called them your study sessions; it was just your little thing with him.

“Well actually I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, you’re coming over tonight whether you like it not.”

“Oh Y/n’s over here making her move huh?” Ned asked as he sat down next to Peter, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t we wish,” MJ said somewhat under her breath. She knew how you felt about Peter, but was in no place to tattle.

“I’ll text May and let her know you’re staying the night” You said pulling out your phone and typing something out.

“Yeah like she’s ever gonna let me do that,” Peter said with a light laugh.

“You wanna bet?” You said with a smile, showing Peter your phone that showed May’s text that read: “Keep him for the whole weekend if you want! And make sure that boy gets some sleep, you know he sleeps best in your arms :).”

Peter turned a light shade of pink and stole a pudding cup from Ned, keeping his lips sealed.

“That’s what I thought,” You said with a proud smile, digging into your lunch.

Pulling the keys to your apartment out of your backpack, you unlocked your door and opened it for Peter to walk in. He mumbled a small “thank you” and made a b-line for your room before you could even close the door behind him. You smiled softly and locked up behind him, dropping your book bag following after him, only to find him loosely tucked into your twin-sized bed. You sighed seeing the overly tired Peter Parker in your bed; platonic friendships that didn’t always act platonic were rough, especially when both one of them had feelings for the other. Peter heard you sigh and opened one eye to peek at you, outstretching his arms from under your light pink duvet as a sign for you to come and join him. You happily obliged to.

Cuddling with Peter was just about your favorite thing to do. This started halfway through freshman year when he showed up at your door at 11 pm after he tried to pull a cheesy cliche on the girl he was crushing on; she called him a nerd and threw rocks at him, giving him a black eye. He was so upset because he was so sure that she’d fall for him if he copied the 1989 movie “Say Anything” and played her favorite song on a boombox outside her window. But she was a bitchy cheerleader that only went after jocks with 2-bit brains, not cute boys with 4.0 GPAs. Or at least that’s what you told Peter as he held onto you as if he’d lose you too if he let go.

“Where are you parents?” Peter mumbled, drawing you out of your memories.

“Peter.. take me to dinner first!” you said with a smile as you turned over to face him.

“Oh shut up!” He said in a playful tone, pulling the duvet over his face so that you wouldn’t see him blush.

“They’re away on another business trip, Chicago this time I think,” you said with a sad smile, your lips forming a thin line.

“Yikes, for how long this time?” he asked carefully, even though he knew you were beyond used to it by now.

“4 or 5 weeks, I’m really not sure. They’ll be back once school ends though.. I think.” Peter sighed, he wished that you had someone to be there for you. He wanted to be that person.

“You’re so lucky you have May, it must be nice to almost always have someone to come home to and not just an empty house,” You said as you used your index finger to trace Peter’s jawline. How it got so sharp and defined over the years was beyond you.

“At least you still have your parents.” Peter didn’t mention his parents often, especially outside of the confines of just the two of you. But every now and then he’d make a comment, maybe even a joke. Like most teens he too used humor as a coping mechanism.

“Yeah, but you still grew up with someone to guide you; the last time I remember my parents being home for more than a month was when I was 12.″

“I don’t knowwww, finding out your parents died in a plane crash at six sounds pretty traumatic to me,” He said in a teasing way, a way so that you knew he was kidding.

“Oh fuck off and cuddle me so that we can both get some sleep,” You said turning back over and pushing your back into his as he wrapped his hands around your waist. If anyone saw the position the two of you were in they would’ve immediately assumed you were a couple.

—

When you woke up and checked your clock it was 4:00AM; you knew that both you and Peter were extremely tired but you didn’t think you were both sleep-for-thirteen-hours kind of tired. Either way you turned over to take a peek at Peter and found him in a deep sleep lightly snoring. It was times like these when you were reminded of why you adored this boy so damn much. Not being able to help yourself you gave Peter a quick kiss on his cheek before tip-toeing out of the room to take a shower.

After turning the water on you checked your phones’ notifications, seeing a text from May amongst a few other snaps from friends.

May 💐

Hey, did Peter get any sleep yet?

You smiled, loving how much she cared for her Nephew.

we’ve been asleep since we got home at 3pm yesterday. I just woke up and I’m about to shower now but he’s still asleep :)

Hitting send you set your phone down on the bathroom counter and hopped in the shower, letting the hot water run all over your body. The best thing about AM showers in New York apartments was that you actually got some hot water for once.

Hopping out and drying yourself off you threw on a clean oversized Midtown high sweater and some pajama shorts, which ended up disappearing under the sweater anyways.

Walking back into your room you saw that it was now 4:23AM and to no surprise Peter was still sound asleep. You smiled contently and got back under the covers, not cuddling into him though as you didn’t want to wake him from his sleep. But a few minutes later you felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. You called out to Peter asking if you woke him but he didn’t even stir. He must’ve pulled you closer in his sleep. He even started to draw small circles in the small of your back with his index finger as he continued to lightly snore, and the thought of him doing that absent minded-ly alone was enough to send you right back to sleep in a giddy haze.

—

Peter woke up before you this time, seeing that it was 8:12AM on your clock. You were tightly snuggled into him and he just couldn’t help but to give you a peck on the cheek, something he didn’t know you reciprocated. But right as he gave you a light kiss he got a whiff of your hair; it smelled like roses and apples. It was heavenly and made him more relaxed than he’s felt all week. Without even really thinking about it Peter began to run his fingers through your soft clean hair, almost soothing himself back to sleep. But when you started to stir in your sleep he stopped and tried to act asleep so you wouldn’t know what he was doing. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, leading Peter to believe that you had fallen back asleep. That was until you spoke up.

“You didn’t have to stop that you know. I kinda liked it.” Without a reply Peter went back to playing with your hair, bringing a smile to your face.

“Did you change your shampoo?” he asked about 10 minuets later, shocking you a bit because he was right.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you asked, turning over to face him this time.

“You used to smell like honey, now you smell like apples and roses,” he stated plainly.

“Wow, no one’s ever noticed.”

“Well keep using this shampoo, I love it.” You gave Peter a fake offended look for that comment.

“And since when do I take orders from you?”

“Since I’m your best friend and you love me so you’d do anything for me,” he said with a grin, knowing damn well he was right.

“Oh shut up you dork.”

“Why don’t you make me?” You raised your eyebrows at his cockiness, but simply landed a kiss about an inch away from his lips and got out of bed to make breakfast, leaving a speechless Peter in bed.

“You said ‘make me.’ What did you expect?” you asked, popping your head back in just to see his awe-struck face.

You settled on the impossibly easy bowl of cereal, grabbing a bowl for Peter as well. He walked in as you were pouring him a bowl, but now he was wearing your NY Giants flannel pajama pants that you set aside for him weeks ago when he stayed the night and had no PJs to sleep in... and he lacked a shirt. Not to say that you hadn’t seen Peter shirtless before but ever since he took that Stark internship he’s gotten a lot more... buff. Anytime you’d see him shirtless you’d turn red without fail, you assumed this was his way to get back at you for following up on his “make me” statement. The two of you always played petty flirty games like that, and you both always assumed the other meant it in a completely platonic way.

“Jeez y/n, take a picture it’ll last longer,” Peter said jokingly, making you avert your gaze after realizing you’d been staring while you were deep in thought.

“Special K? Isn’t that stuff supposed to be healthy? Don’t you have any Captain Crunch around here or something?” Peter whined, making you roll your eyes at him.

“God you’re such a child! Besides, even if this stuff is ‘healthy’ it tastes really good.” Huffing dramatically Peter took a bowl and munched down on it, finishing it and then proclaiming that the cereal was “just OK” prompting you to throw a spoon at him.

—

The rest of that weekend was filled with similar flirty events and cuddle filled movie binges, and the school week consisted of pep rallies, field days, and other lax activities as graduation was on Wednesday the following week. It was nice to have a chill week after a long and stressful year, and Peter was clearly getting more sleep now that school work wasn’t a bigger part of his life anymore. Before you knew it, it was Friday again.

“Ever heard of a flirtationship?” Ned asked, munching down on his curly fries at lunch.

“...no?” You spoke, adding a questioning tone at the end encouraging him to go on.

“It’s what you and Peter have.” Before you could reply asking what that even meant, MJ chimed in as well.

“Skinny love would be another good term for you two weirdos.”

You were somewhat baffled. MJ knew of your feelings for Peter but you’d never heard these terms before in your life.

“Just look it up on urban dictionary, it’s all there,” Ned spoke simply, like it was painfully obvious. You pulled out your phone and opened safari, typing urba— before the auto-fill for UrbanDictionary.com came up. Quickly clicking your fingers across the keyboard you first looked up what a “flirtationship” was.

3

Flirtationship

An unofficial relationship that involves tons of flirting. Usually between two friends, and it's all fun and games until one of them falls for the other and turns it into a Relationship.

"OMG! John and Stacy totally in a flirtationship!"

You scoffed, looking over to Ned and giving him the finger. “Peter and I are nothing like that, we’re just—”

“What aren’t we like?” Making you jump and fumble your phone from your hand, Peter came up behind you resting his chin on your head.

“Oh nothing, it’s just obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that the two of you have undeniable feel—“

“OKAY THANK YOU THAT’S ENOUGH MJ,” You said lightly chucking a banana at her, but she blocked it with her sketchbook.

“I’m just saying,” she said with a shrug, ultimately leaving Peter confused but he shrugged it off and began to ask about your day so far. In the middle of telling him how Mr. T made you run 2 extra laps in gym for running late in the locker room he took a large whiff of your hair.

“So what’s the name of that shampoo you use anyways?” Peter asked amidst a sweet daze as he began to run his fingers through your hair. Had anyone else, even Ned try to do that you would have been weirded out and moved away. But there was something calming that soothed you when Peter did it.

"Rose Hips by Herbal Essence,” you told him with a smile, enjoying the feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

“Dude, how’d you smell something so faint?” MJ asked, genuinely curious.

“Mmm must’ve been my Peter tingle” he said, still entranced in the smell.

“I’m sorry— your Peter what now?” MJ said with a laugh, but Ned threw an empty thing of pudding at Peter's head and brought him out of his trance.

“Oh uh, nothing” Peter said quickly, now sitting down beside you. You looked to MJ and gave her a “what the fuck was that??” kind of a look and she only shrugged. You didn’t notice Ned giving Peter the “why the hell would you say that dude?!” eyes and Peter only shushing him as you turned back around.

After that lunch came and went, as did the rest of the day. Thank god it was Friday again, and a long weekend at that. But you and Peter’s “study sessions” have become less concrete over the past few months, Peter has been showing up late or even not at all, giving some sort of lame excuse like:

“Oh May really needed my help with something.”

“Well you know that Stark internship is keeping me pretty busy.”

“Ned got a new LEGO set and said he couldn’t build it without me.”

It got to the point where you’d stop asking where he was or if he was even coming over. If he came, he came. If he didn’t, you settled for a bullshit excuse.

Sure this upset you and you told MJ about it but she just brushed it off as typical teenage boy things. Yet she wouldn’t stop reminding you that he’d probably spend more time with you if you told him how you really felt, and you kept reminding her that that was never gonna happen.

Before he started flaking Peter usually stopped by around 7pm, so when you looked over at the clock and saw that it was 10:30 at night you figured he wasn’t coming. The latest he ever showed up at your door was 1:00AM and you had already been up for hours cramming for a test that week so he stopped you and you both ate junk food until you passed out. He was gone in the morning though, and he didn't end up being at school that day either. Said he got sick in the middle of the night or something?

Anyways, Delmars was due to close in half an hour and you had a craving for some Cheeto puffs. So you threw a hoodie on over your pajama shorts and tank top and grabbed a five dollar bill. It was a block and a half away and even though the streets at night weren’t your favorite scene you were too hungry to care.

Leaving your apartment with nothing but a five dollar bill, your phone, and the keys to your apartment, you left and locked the door behind you, as your parents were still away on that business trip in Chicago. Walking into the store you looked to the clock and saw it was now 10:47PM, and a worker there was cleaning and starting to pack things up. You grabbed a bag of Cheeto puffs and quietly went up to the register. Paying and going on your way you bid the cashier a good night you started your trek back home.

Only about half a block into your commute did you feel off, making a quick glance behind you you saw a hooded figure following you about 3 yards away. “No big deal,” you thought. Maybe he’s just gotten off work is is really tired, and you have your trust pepper— oh fuck. Ever since an overly strict hall monitor caught you with a keyring with pepper spray on it you weren’t allowed to bring it to school because it was considered a “weapon,” and even then you were given week's detention.

All this overthinking made you look back again in fear and this time the hooded figure was less than a yard away from you. You immediately tried to pick up the pace but he pulled you into a nearby alleyway and covered your mouth with his hand. Only following your instinct you bit down as hard as you could on the man's hand, he cried out in pain.

“You bitch!”

You thought that was the end of it and you were going to make a run for it but then you heard a gun cock.

“I wanted to do this the easy way but it’s already obvious you aren’t gonna make that possible. Now where is your—“

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even actually see what happened. It was nearly 11:00 o’clock at night after all. But the next thing you knew you saw the well-known butt-kicking New York superhero known as Spider-Man on top of the man throwing punch after punch at him. You stared in awe for a moment, for so many reasons. You had only seen the famous Spider-Man in YouTube videos across the internet, he was known to be very peaceful and not hurt the criminals, and all in all you didn’t think he’d stop such a small crime as what was happening to you, let alone even catch it.

After catching your own breath you wrapped your arms around the blue and red spandex bound man pulling him off your attacker.

“You’re going to kill him!” You shouted. Only then did the masked hero look at you and hold his gaze. Usually you felt uncomfortable when people would stare at you but there was nothing uncomfortable about the situation; it felt like you’ve done it before. But as soon as your attacker started to try and get up Spider-Man webbed him to a wall, and his gun a few yards away so he wouldn’t be able to use it when the cops showed up.

Immediately wrapping his arms around your waist your newfound rescuer instructed you to hold on. You did as you were told but something was off; that voice sounded familiar.

He swung you all the way home, right to your window in fact. Settling on the fire escape right outside he released the webbing from his hand but didn’t let go of your waist. Instead, he ran his gloved fingers through your hair and took a long whiff from your head. Exhaling slowly, he came back to his senses.

Now you definitely had your fair share of dumbass moments but you’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not realize who was behind that mask.

“Ahem, your apartment... madam?” He said, clearing his throat and adding a queens accent. You decided to play along, just a little bit though.

“Oh why thank you so much Spider-Man! You’re my hero!” You said, embracing him in a tight hug. He embraced you back and the small circles he drew on the small of your back with his index finger only further proved to you that this was indeed Peter Parker.

“But... How did you know where I live? Let alone my exact apartment window?” He froze, he was no longer drawing circles on your back and his breathing was hitched. You could hear his heart rate increasing ever rapidly.

“You uh–“ He stammered, losing his fake queens accent.

“You told me, yeah, you told me you lived in apartment number 32D” Ah, there was that lovely fake accent. But it was weaker, shakier.

“That’s funny ‘cause I don’t remember saying a single word to you before you brought me to this fire escape. But wait, if I told you that I lived in apartment 32D, how’d you know that this is the window to my bedroom?”

There was a shit-eating grin plastered across your face. You had him cornered and he knew it, you were just waiting for him to say it.

“I uh— well you see... it’s not really– ummmm,” He was fumbling over every word and the fake accent was long gone but it was obvious he wasn’t gonna give in and admit it. So you reached your hands up to the neck of his suit and started to pull up on the red neckline of the fabric. When you had just pulled it over enough so that you could see his entire chin and mouth you knew without a doubt that it was Peter.

“Are you sure you wanna do that? Super heroes aren’t really supposed to reveal their true identity to anyone.” He dropped all the bullshit, he was speaking with the same voice he talked to you with at lunch.

“Oh I’m sure,” You said with a laugh, continuing to pull the mask up his face at an agonizingly slow pace. Peter grabbed your wrists after you unveiled his nose.

“But Mr. Stark said if anyone I love finds out I’m Spider-Man then they’ll be under risk from bad guys around the world!” He exclaimed, not seeming to realize what he just confessed. At that point you quickly pulled off the rest of the mask and stared deep into Peters brown eyes. It was dark out and there was nothing but the moonlight shining on his face but still you searched for any sense of mistruth or uncertainty and saw nothing but unrelenting truth.

“You... you love me?”

Only then did he retrace his words and realized what hadspilled from his mouth.

“No! I mean, yes, oh my god yes I do I have since sophomore year when you kicked flash in the balls for calling me Penis Parker for the thousandth time that day, but if that means you don’t wanna be my friend anymore than in that case I don’t like you at all and this whole thing can totally be forgotten and—“

“Peter!” You interrupted

“Yeah?”

“I love you too,” you said softly, looking into his eyes with nothing but admiration.

“You do? Because if you don’t that’s really fine and I’d totally understand cause like—”

You knew there was no other way to shut him up besides doing the only thing you’ve wanted to do for 3 years. You kissed him. Standing up on your tippy-toes you cupped his cheek with your hands and gently pressed your lips to his. It was everything you’d thought it’d be and more; he tasted like banana laffy taffy, which happened to be your favorite candy so you weren’t complaining. Pulling away Peter’s eyes stayed shut a few seconds longer than yours, just doing his best to relish in the moment as long as possible before having to resurface back to the pain that is reality.

“Do I need to kiss you again to bring you back down to earth?” Peter said nothing but smiled wider than you’d ever seen before and nodded slowly. You smiled contently and went in for a quick peck before Peter came back to reality and put his hands tenderly on your face keeping your lips attached to his as he attempted to deepen the kiss. You gave in but only for a moment, soon pulling away and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Okay calm down lover boy, that’s fun and all but it’s freezing out here and I can’t feel my feet.” Without a second to spare Peter picked you up bridal style and carried you into your bedroom. You spent the whole night cuddling, kissing, and making him tell you every last detail about what it was like being Spider-Man.

—

A/N

Hi all, today is June 8th 2020... almost 4 months since I last posted. I’d like to apologize, I don’t have much of an excuse besides the fact that COVID-19 has brought on so much bad news for me that I haven’t had the motivation to do jack shit :) 

But I also want to say that me posting today is not me trying to draw attention away from what’s going on in the world at the moment, because posting right now could easily make ignorance seem okay; and it’s not. I’ve been to protests, I’ve signed petitions, I’ve talked with friends and family, I’m doing all that I can do help support the BLM movement and put an end to racism and corrupt cops. In fact, if you need a place to find good resources, there’s a link here that’s full of petitions to sign, places to donate, educational articles on whiteness, racism, blackness in America, on liberation, on police violence, and so on. Links with compilations, books, PDFs, podcasts and episodes, films and videos, social media posts worth reading and sharing, noteworthy public figures and authors, reading guides, and even protest safety. 

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1bUJrgX8vspyy7YttiEC2vD0DawrpPYiZs94V0ov7qZQ/htmlview?usp=gmail 

^here’s the link again just in case. So if it wasn’t clear this account is safe for all genders, sexualities, races, ethnicities, etc. 

So please don’t think of this post as a distraction from what’s going on, but rather a quick break. My best friend proof read this for me and told me it’s exactly what she needed right now. So I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and constructive criticism is welcome!

Much Love,

—Skyler 

[artisticestheticreads]

Forever Mine

A/N: Alright, Loves. So I was listening to this song by the O’Jays while cooking and got a great fic idea with our great Lord featuring the Prince and King of Wakanda with the princess’s help. 

WARNING: This contains some fluffiness and just tad of angst.

SONG RECOMMENDATION: Forever Mine by The O’Jays. (Look at the video below for future visual. Thank Me Later :) )

PAIRING: M’Baku x Black Thick Reader

   It was cool and bright sunny Wednesday when you were in the kitchen making supper for you and your beau of three years. Since you have grown to see your parents doing everything to old school music, you did the same. You were very obsessed with the O’Jays just like your father. You were making a veggie “meatloaf” with a side of potatoes and greens when you had the music playing quite to loud. 

   In the bedroom down the hall, your Lord was in a deep slumber on his stomach to his bare body face down in the bed. Once the song repeated once more, his eyes flung open in anger as he sat up on the bed. He rubbed his eyes, irritated and red. “What in the Gorilla God is she doing,” he said as he rubbed his temples. He slipped on his slippers, grabbed his beige furry robe and stood in annoyance; he began to make his way.

   You started to pull out the loaf from the oven when you felt his big hands on your shoulders, massaging deeply. “Mmm, M’Baku. How did you sleep” you said before turning to him, seeing the redness in his eyes. “Y/N, my lady. What did we talk about your music”, he asked with his hands rubbing your biceps. You said with a timid smile “that it is too loud?”

“Ding Ding Ding, my love”, he said before turning the old boombox your dad gave you before moving to Wakanda after college. The music was so low he might as well have turned it off. “Baku, I can barely hear it,” you told him with your hands on your wide set of hips. He mocked you and said, “exactly, Y/N. I don’t want to hear that over and over. We have discussed this.” He sat at the table and rubbed his temple before grabbing remote television you brought from home (you had to basically beg to have it there). 

   He played something loudly on the t.v. when you turned back to the stove to finish up. You began to bang pots and pans out of anger but he didn’t budge as he folded his thick arms. You looked at your father’s boombox then back to him when his eyes were glued to the screen. You waltzed over to it and turned it back on; on maximum volume. You began setting up the food when he was turned to you shouting your name. The vein popped out of his forehead as he marched over. You continued to plate food as he kept yelling but you ignored him. 

   Sadly, all of a sudden, you flinched at all the flying pieces the flew above your head against the wall. When you looked to your left at the ground, there were pieces of the boombox all over the place. You didn’t know which one was more shattered; the boombox or your heart. You walked over to it and got on your knees, slowly picking up the parts and watching it crumble more. M’Baku’s face was still angered when he called your nickname but then when you turned your head to look at him, he softened. M’Baku’s eyes fell on your posture and face which saddened him because your eyes were glassy and watery. When you stood up facing him, the tears fell more as you held the speakers in individual hands. You slowly walked up to him; M’Baku froze with a swallow of his spit harshly going down his throat. 

  “You heartless, selfish, cold-hearted, dim-witted, jack ass”, you said calmly before throwing the speakers down in anger. “You know, how I felt about that boom box. My father, a man that truly does love me, gave that thing to me when I moved out here. You may think it is just junk but to him, to our family, it is everything. There was history in that ‘piece of junk’ and my father trusted me and you broke the one thing that reminded of home. So, congratulations, M’Baku. YOU RUINED IT”, you said before storming off and locking the bedroom door. He stood there for fifteen minutes, still frozen, looking at the pieces. 

   Once he heard the front door open, he saw you there with you with a huge overnight bag still you tan tube top and flared bottom set. “Y/N, My Lady. Where-where are you going?” You still didn’t look at him when you said “somewhere. With Udaka’s. More civil folk. I’ll send someone in a week to get the rest of my things. Enjoy dinner.” That was it. You left and he was stuck.

𝓞𝓝𝓔 𝓦𝓔𝓔𝓚 𝓛𝓐𝓣𝓔𝓡

   You were in Shuri’s lab doing some overnight work when she came over to your station and looked in your face. “How are you holding up, Sister Y/N”, she asked. “I’m fine. What is done is done. Not point of fighting.” Shuri sat beside you and took the project you were working, placing it to the side. “Y/N, I heard you cry last night when you were working down here. You miss him and that’s okay.” You shook your head and took your goggle off, releasing your tight curls. “He broke something that reminding me of home. My father, my family. I can’ let that go. The boom box is gone.” 

   Shuri was about to speak until Okoye came down in a hurry. “Princess Shuri, Lady Y/N. There is an emergency in the throne room.” You all hurried off, you being ahead. Once you peeked into the throne room, it was pitch black. You walked in with Okoye’s hand was on your back, pushing you in further as you felt someone swiftly pick you up and place you in the throne. “Ladies and gentlemen, Lords and Ladies, introducing the Royal 3″ Shuri said over a microphone. The center of the floor lit up to show T’Challa and Erik dancing side by side in golden tribal suits as the song ‘Forever Mine’ started playing. A tall wide silhouette walked ahead dancing like they did; it was M’Baku in a matching suit. He grabbed the mic and began singing.

‘Forever mine, All because you're my kind. Aw, baby, I got what you want, you got what I want, An` we were made for each other.’

  As he sang, the King and Prince sung back up as you smiled with a tear running. M’Baku’s eyes were on your face the whole time and it made your heart fluttered. You can tell, he can tell, that you two missed one another very much. You rocked back and forth before you noticed the three of them unbuttoning their jackets with the hidden crowd cheering them on. All of a sudden, you saw your Lord bend at the waist, still singing with all his heart.

‘Aw, we`ve been around And I've had a lot of loves And I know you had a lot of loves, too But I ain`t never had nobody’

  You noticed him moving his pelvis in a circular motion with sweat dripping down his forehead and lick in his lips. You grinned at him and clapped cheering your baby on. He took his coat off when he pointed to you.

‘That do the things you do. We go together, Well, like the birds in the trees. I`d be in a round of trouble, girl, If you wasn't here with me...stay!’

   He slid on his knees to you as the guys kept singing. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. I should have never done what I did. You know that isn't me at all. Ever since you been away, I tried to find any excuse to get you back home. I came down to ask the family multiple favors. I had to convince the men to do this. Erik was fine with it and T’Challa just wanted to show off. I asked Shuri to help with the lights and also with this.” He looked to his left and your eyes followed to see your parents walking up to you; you covered your mouth as they said hello. 

   Still shocked, Shuri tapped on your left shoulder and handed you a bag with a proud smile as Queen Mother held her shoulders, smiling as well. When you dug in, you couldn’t control your tears; it was the boombox that better than before. “Lord M’Baku asked if I can put it back together. I don’t want to sound cocky but I did very impressively.” You nodded in agreeance when you hugged it against your body. “Y/N, I hope we can look past this and continue our journey to the future” then all of a sudden, Shuri took the boombox from you when he pulled out a wooden box. 

   “I asked your family for forgiveness and also.” When he opened the small box, it exposed a beautiful engagement ring with a rose shaped diamond and burnt umber golden band. “Your hand in marriage. Will you Y/N, Y/L/N-”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” You kissed his lips between every yes once he slipped the ring on. He brought her up from the chair into his arms and swung her around as they shared a sweet, slow kiss with everyone cheering. You two started whispering the lyrics “Forever Mine....” with a laugh and another kiss.

Alright. So, how are we feeling? Would you have said or no? Would you have ever forgiven him? Hope y’all enjoyed?

𝒯𝒜𝒢𝒢𝐸𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮

@muse-of-mbaku

@im5ftbutmythroat66

@chaneajoyyy

@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

@doux-ciel

@unicornluvin8765

@vikkidc

@wakandantings

@thadelightfulone

@mzamethystp

@simbiann

@tropicalsun10

@babydoll756

@notoriouslynay

@vminax

@quinsly

@pinkdemolition

@quietstorm-73

@chaoticcashfancroissant

@bugngiz

@chocolatedippedinhoney

@yafavcocoa

@lostgalaxies

@mbakuwife

@youreadthatright

@babygotl01292003

@acceptyourselfloveyourself

@madamslayyy

@yoyolovesbucky

@theogbadbitch 

@wakanda-inspired

[cosmicflowchart]

Colin Ritman/Reader - We’ve Met Before [Part 1]

Summary: “We’ve met before,” he tells you. You don’t believe him. Warnings: memory loss, multiple timelines, mentions of possible stalking Word Count: 1575

In your mind’s eye, you’re riding shotgun in a car while “Change of Heart” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers plays from the stereo. Your feet are up on the dashboard while your brother drives just a little too fast down suburban streets. You’ve got a serene smile on your face. Everything’s okay.

But in reality, you’re walking down a street with your headphones on, the same song playing. The sound’s up so loud you’re pretty sure other people can hear you--you get a few dirty looks from older folks as you pass by them, but in your defense, it’s a good album to blast: for you, it’s calming yet driving. If you had the guts, you’d probably blast this song on a boombox. Instead, your Walkman bounces in your pocket as you walk, out of sight except for the cord leading to it from your headphones. Your head’s bouncing too, but anyone passing by probably wouldn’t notice. It’s a slightly worn copy of your brother’s Long After Dark cassette tape. But he’s long since forgotten that he’d lent it to you.

And to be honest, you aren’t going to remind him, nor do you intend to give it back. It’s like a little jump back in time when you listen. It’s also your favorite way of tuning the world out while you try to sort through work problems.

You stop at a crosswalk to wait for the light to change in your favor. The second chorus ends as you wait.

Someone taps on your shoulder, and you almost throw a punch. But instead, you flail like you’re a newcomer in a kung-fu movie, and you spin around.

You spot the person who got your attention. The guy’s eyebrows are raised on the outer ends, judging your strange reaction. You would be too, honestly, but you clear your throat and pause the tape, pulling one headphone back. “Yes?”

“It’s (y/n), right?” are the first words out of his mouth. He stares at you expectantly through silver frames, head tilted down slightly to show more of his bleached blond curls. His hands are deep in his pockets. Every hair on your skin stands on end.

“Who the hell are you?” you almost yell, glancing around to see if anyone’s watching.

“Colin,” he responds casually. “We work in the same building. We’ve met before.” His eyes twinkle and you’re immediately nervous.

“I know three different Colins, which one are you?” you wonder. “Wait. You don’t work at Tuckersoft, do you?”

“I do.”

“Then…” you narrow your eyes. You’re not sure why you’re interested in actually figuring this out, but your brain begins to turn anyway. “Colin Ritman?” you guess. He points a finger at you in confirmation. “Oh shit! Okay, yeah, I do know you, just haven’t seen your face much. I’m more used to seeing the back of your head, I kind of run around the office doing chores most of the time.” He’s got a look on his face like he knows already. In your defense, he’s making you nervous, and you’re not sure quite why. “I don’t think we’ve ever, uh, talked. I don’t think.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

It hits you at that moment. He’s that Colin Ritman. You ignore his remark, mostly because your brain has no idea what to make of it. You’ve heard a few stories floating around the office about him and his weird conspiracy theories. You’re pretty sure you have to do several more types of drugs to understand what the hell he just said. “That explains my confusion, and how you’d know me, I guess. Still, that’s a little creepy, yeah?”

“Fair enough,” he takes his hands out of his pockets, now holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He pulls a cigarette out as he talks. “You got anywhere to be later?”

You’re watching him with suspicion. “If you’re asking me to come home with you, it’s a no. I just found out who you were today. Some of us have standards.” He snorts. “Well, I do, anyway.”

“No, I know,” he agrees, cigarette in his mouth. He lights it--the sound rings a bell deep in your memory. But you’ve heard people flick lighters open before. You’ve even done it once or twice yourself (though smoking ended up not being for you). Why is this special? “You know what you want, and what you don’t.”

“That’s right,” you agree, still suspicious. “How do you know so much about me? Have you been taking notes or something?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Okay,” you decide that maybe you ought to track down a payphone and call the police, “nice talking to you, Col. If I can call you that. I just remembered, I need to call my brother and wish him a happy birthday. I’m sure you have somewhere better to be than just talking to me.” You pull your headphones back into place, turning away from him. He doesn’t make a move to stop you.

“(y/n),” he calls loud enough for you to hear him through your headphones. Reluctantly, you just look over your shoulder at him, fiddling with your Walkman. You want to start the song over so you rewind as quickly as you can. But Colin’s not done. All he says is: “The White Queen walks.”

You turn to him. He’s got that face again, like you’re supposed to know something and you don’t. You thought that look wouldn’t haunt you after middle school, but there you are, feeling like an idiot. It doesn’t last long, as he makes a face almost of disappointment and leaves you there.

Fuck no, your inner voice speaks up, he’s not getting away that easily. You need answers.

You don’t hide your frustration as you catch up to him. You pull off your headphones and respond: “I don’t know what that means, Mr. Ritman. Explain yourself.”

“That’s new,” he remarks, almost amused. “You’ve never called me Mister before. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You’re just a step behind him now. He walks awfully fast for someone who programs all day.

“‘The White Queen walks, and the night grows pale.’ You know what that means.”

“...White Queen?” you repeat. “That’s, I know that lyric. That’s from--”

“Queen II,” he finishes. “I know. You told me that that song made you cry. I hate to bring up bad memories, but you’ve also said that sad memories make you remember more. Don’t know if that’s true, you still look like you think I’m bonkers.”

“When did I talk to you? I’ve never seen your face in my life,” you insist. But you doubt it the moment the words leave your lips.

“Technically, I haven’t seen your face either,” he agrees. “But that’s the funny thing about memory. Comes back at the least convenient times. Or the most, depending on who it benefits. You’re still not freed yet though, not in this timeline.”

“Okay, look, I don’t know what all this timeline shit means, and I’m still unclear how you know how I feel about that specific song, from that very obscure album, but I’m getting kind of sick of it. What do I have to do to get a straight answer from you? Did we, like, did I have a drunken one-night stand with you and completely black out?”

As you finish your rambling, trying to put together what he’s been implying (and failing), he sticks his hand in his back pocket and produces a small folded paper. “Lucky for you, I’m prepared this time.” He holds it out to you, stopping.

You stop too. You regard the paper in his hand as you would a philosophy book with a long, boring title.

“To be fair, it was your idea this last time. You were stuck, so was I. We realized our place in the world, but we couldn’t accept the ends given. So you threw this out as an idea. Figured it couldn’t hurt, so I kept it. I meant to give it to you earlier but I thought I’d be more of a gentleman about it. Didn’t work, obviously. Sorry about that.”

Previous you? Stuck? The words should mean something, and the phrases are bugging you--the memories are at the tip of your brain stem, but they’re stuck. What he’s saying is supposed to mean something.

Your curiosity defeats your suspicion.

You take the paper gingerly from his hand and unfold it, occasionally glancing back up at him. As you read, your eyes race faster and faster across the page. Everything you read once again feels familiar. It’s in your handwriting, there’s no doubt about it, but you have no conscious memory of writing this. For a moment you feel like something’s knocking you upside the head, like someone’s trying to tell you something and you’re not answering the damn door.

You read it again. This time, you actually process the words. There’s memories in here, phrases you heard Colin use, and some that you do recognize as your own words. The letter details a history of your decisions, beginning at the dawn of the current day, and ending in several ways. But none of those endings have happened. Perhaps it’s a premonition of some kind, or a vision. It’s in your hand and yet you don’t remember it.

It dawns on you, all of it, it floods back.

You’ve met before.

A/N: Edit! You can read Part Two here: https://cosmicflowchart.tumblr.com/post/182281002389/weve-met-before-part-2final-colin

Sorry for the cheese ending, I might repost this all as one (below a cut obviously). 

[welovelofi]

Loves Me / Loves Me Not

another round must commence <3

Magon - Third Dimensional Love

Lovely slacker progressive from mainland France. It’s been a while since I’ve heard this nice use of drone-y slacker. I see a lot of diy-made ‘homevideo’ style music videos out there, like 95% of them fail, Magon does not. It’s equal parts lovely akward and “bad” taste. The French have always had a good eye for aesthetics. Check out the older movies by Jean-Pierre Jeunet - City of the Lost Children, Delicatessen etc and you’ll know what I mean.

Next time I’m going to my imaginary garden to pick flowers for a late night tea-party this is the track I’ll be blasting out the speakers, me and my butterflies will love it equallty.

Dead Little Penny - Dead Together

I’ve missed bands like this, it’s proper revival of all that was good about the late 80s and early 90s before Cobain decided to leave us which unfortunately made way to a crusade of bad rip-off and watered down “grunge” bands. Maybe Dead Little Penny is here to signal a new round of good taste, or maybe it’s just a reminder that there still are great bands out there who can master a dirty sound with pleasant melodies without seeming to be too full of themselves. The band is from Australia - how I wish they would come to Europe for a tour - I’d be the first to help them out with lodning and local venue contacts <3 please.

Cool Sounds - Digi Dog

https://open.spotify.com/track/7CzlShBUaCWT2iAHFOhfBH

It’s a good time for Australian acts apparently and I will be the last to complaint - if it wasn’t for that the trip from Europe is quite the distance. I apologize for only having a spotify link for you on this on, but it doesn’t make the track less chill. There’s nothing fancy about this tune, it’s thumbing ahead like a lofi version of War on Drugs, which in itself sounds like something I would get on board with. This is a nice track for the mornings when you’re not really sure what you’re supposed to be doing - you can always play the tune a second time around.

Callum Pitt - L.Lane

https://soundcloud.com/callum-pitt/l-lane

Callum on the other hand is very much into War on Drugs I am quite certain - most problems for bands trying to copy the sound of the band is that they just don’t have good enough songs for such a pleasurable vibe in the production. So it just becomes dull songs without a purpose. Callum’s different - he clearly knows how to write good songs - which is probably also why he is signed to the same label as the gents of the War on Drugs.

If this is the level Callum insists on putting forward and he can keep it up, I’m pretty sure he’s walking towards a bright future, I would surely keep my eye on him. If I had a ranch and was taking daily walks checking up one some stray animals and just gazing over whatever you have on a ranch, this is what I’d be putting on my boom-box that I’ll be dragging along in my wooden cart. I’d naturally only have the cart along for the boombox, which would only be along because this track would fit such a walk tremendously - I don’t own a ranch obviously, but I do like this song.

Maybird - Montreal

I LOVE the vocals on the singer of this! There’s something in this that reminds me of The Growlers - a band that it’s almost impossible not to like or love for at least a few reasons. 

It’s a pretty short song, the good thing about that is you definitely would want to listen to more songs - where do I get them, when do I get them? There’s not much to know, but in this day and age of convenience and ‘having everything you way’ it’s quite healthy having to go out and catch your music yourself, just a little effort?  If someone bought me any type of old car, I would give them a recording of this and take a ride together <3

Sons of Zöku - Dead Poets

https://soundcloud.com/sonsofzoku/dead-poets/s-4zFzN

If you’re ever sad that you were born too late for the grandest of days with the Beatles - now is your time! And it could possibly be pretty fucking epic! Never have I heard many good tunes inspired by the trippier times of the Brits - with the exception of the first couple of Tame Impala records! 

SO - once more the problem for us is that these guys are ALSO in Australia - WHAT THE F IS UP with Australia these days? And why aren’t somebody starting a record label to put out all these goodies! Anyhow, if I ever were to become a booking agent I might as well start a company and sign the Aussie bands in this post - anyone thinking of doing the same out there I’m open to teaming up <3 Go listen to this track, go do whatever you feel like - this will fit anything you could ever consider spending your day on today, scouts honor.

JW Francis - Lofi

https://soundcloud.com/jw_francis/lo-fi/s-4TlV5

We’re going to end on a chill and lovely note. JW Francis is a pal I’m happy to know exists in this world - I’m pretty sure he’s put here to brighten our days. He sounds like the kind of guy I’d want to go hang out at the beach with, he would bring his guitar, he’d have a friend who has a small rowing boat. We’d row out into the water, he would have already packed a nice lunch basket with grapes, maybe some wine. It’s not some kind of secret gay romance I’m harbouring - though I’m pretty sure any partner ending up with JW would be smiling when he’s writing songs in the opposing room or the kitchen, I know I would.

I don’t know much about JW Francis, but I know he’s got good taste and I know he knows how to put a song and mix together that has just the right bits of aesthetic sense to make it pleasurable almost no matter what kind of music you’re into - put this on if you have a boat, if you don’t have a boat just go buy that todler swimming-pool, fill it with a couple of liters of water and lay down - you deserve it <3

Until next time, hope you have a pleasant weekend everyone.

[l0vemark]

Best Friend: Richie Tozier x Reader

request/prompts/masterlist

abstract: in which Richie gives (Y/N) a mixtape reminiscing their story together to remind her how much he loves her.

author’s note: i know i know, i should be working on requests, but @upsides-dawn (i love you, fay) and i were listening to music together last night and this idea sparked in my mind oof. i’ll be working on requests soon, promise. i hope you enjoy reading this! i recommend listening to the songs listed, you wouldn’t be disappointed. feedback is always appreciated :)

~

Best Friend by Rex Orange County

But no it wasn’t meant to be and see I wasn’t made for you and you weren’t made for me

Though it seemed so easy…

And that’s because I wanna be your favorite boy

I wanna be the one that makes your day

The one you think about as you lie awake

I can’t wait to be your number one

Richie Tozier had been in love with his best friend (Y/N) ever since they were ten.

(Y/N) was Richie’s favorite person in the entire world. A thousand thoughts consisted of (Y/N) were the cause of Richie’s inability to fall asleep at night. She was all he thought about. She never failed to brighten his day whenever he felt like he was devoured by the darkness initiated by the absence of his neglectful parents. He loved her for loving him. All he wanted was to be near her all the time, he wanted to be surrounded by her energy everywhere he went. In a sense, she completed him.

The two kids were inseparable. Everywhere Richie went, (Y/N) would be there right next to him. They did everything together, it was almost unhealthy. It was unhealthy. They couldn’t be alone at all. They depended on each other’s company. But could you blame them? In a troubled town like Derry, you had no chance in surviving alone. And it’s not like they had anybody else to lean on, their families couldn’t even give a single shit about them. They needed each other.

That was one of the many reasons why Richie prolonged confessing his developing feelings for (Y/N). He didn’t suppose that she might not feel the same as Richie. Again, they were together for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They never left each other’s side. There was no way (Y/N) could be interested in someone else other than Richie, right?

Wanted You by Twin Peaks

I wanted you, but you didn’t want me…

Good Lord, Heaven knows I’m bad with love

I wanted you, but you didn’t want me…

Good Lord, Heaven knows I’ve been banged up

Richie was convinced that their feelings were mutual. No two personalities complimented each other more than Richie and (Y/N). Richie didn’t see it coming at all. He thought he had all the time that he needed before he could tell (Y/N) how he really felt about her. But he was too late. She was already with someone else. Someone that was not Richie. Where did he even come from?

Seriously, where did time go? Richie thought he had time. Time to find himself, to grow into his best potential before getting into a relationship with (Y/N) because he knew that’s what she deserved. Time to understand love, how to love. What is love? He didn’t want to ruin what they had. Richie wanted to be certain that he was ready to be the best for her. He wanted to be the best for her. But she didn’t. She wanted the other guy. He was wrong, he was too late.

Sunburn by Ed Sheeran

You’re not her

Though I try to see you differently

I tow the line

You see, I’m searching for what used to be mine

Although, Richie did get one thing right. He and (Y/N) drifted apart as soon as she got into a relationship. Richie distanced himself from (Y/N), not wanting to be reminded of what he didn’t have. Everywhere (Y/N) went, he was there. They did all of the things Richie and (Y/N) used to do together. Richie couldn’t stand it. Why would she want another person to do all of the things they already did before? Why couldn’t it just be (Y/N) and Richie?

Well if (Y/N) could do that, Richie figured he could too. So that’s exactly what he did.

Richie relentlessly dated one person after another, trying to find someone who suited him as well as (Y/N) did. He was searching for somebody who would do all of the things he and (Y/N) used to do. But nobody compared to (Y/N). Not even close.

To The Moon by Phora

She said she never been in love

All she ever did was give her love

Everyone, they only take her love

So you scared of love, I don’t blame you, love

(Y/N) was the first one to reach out to Richie after the lingering years of no communication. It was not a surprise that everything was completely different. The burned bridges between the two former best friends were hard to miss the massive distance created by the despairing chain of events. They were not the same as they used to be.

(Y/N) confessed that she’s in love with Richie. She admitted how she only dated other people to mask her true feelings for Richie. (Y/N) cried about how she was frightened of ruining her relationship with Richie because she had no idea how to love.

(Y/N) was never exposed to love. Growing up, she never saw love between her parents nor did (Y/N) receive love from her parents. All they did was curse and hurt each other. Her parents were the prime cognition that led (Y/N) into believing that love did not exist at all. The only person who made her feel close to being loved was Richie. She didn’t want to risk losing the only person who made her feel valuable to the ignorance of love. Thus, (Y/N) suppressed her feelings, not knowing it would still result to facing her biggest fear, losing Richie.

Television / So Far So Good by Rex Orange County

I’m not afraid, I can be myself and I

Hope you can be yourself as well ‘cos I can make you feel alright

And there was so much happiness that we were still yet to find

What about me and you together?

Something that could really last forever

After all those years of being away from each other, Richie still loved (Y/N). He loved his best friend unconditionally. Although after (Y/N)’s confession, Richie didn’t accept her love right away. Richie’s heart had been beaten and banged up severely to just let (Y/N) back in his life. Things like that do not resolve itself easily and effortlessly. Fear separated them from each other. Therefore this time, Richie wanted both of them to enter their new relationship without any doubts. He wanted to build the foundation of their relationship based on faith.

Despite how disheartening it was, the heartache endured by Richie was essential to his growth. Even though it stripped Richie down to the extent where he couldn’t even recognize himself at one point, Richie was thankful. Through this heartbreak, Richie found himself. Richie learned to love himself without depending on others to complete him. He understood that he needed to love himself before he could even begin to learn to love somebody else.

Richie was ready, but he wanted to know if (Y/N) was ready too. It had been years since they had known each other. If they still loved each other regardless of the distance between them, then Richie was determined that he and (Y/N) had a chance of survival. He had faith that they could last forever. He just needed to wait for (Y/N) to have faith in herself.

Best Friend by Jason Chen

And I don’t wanna ruin what we have

Love is so unpredictable.

But it’s the risk that I’m taking, hoping, praying

You’d fall in love with your best friend…

“So what’d you think?” Richie asked his wife as he stopped the music playing in the boombox, anxious to hear her answer, “Did you like your present?”

(Y/N) looked up at her husband with benevolent tears in her eyes, holding the precious cassette tape Richie had made and given her as a gift to celebrate their unconditional love for each other, “I love it, thank you.”

“I told you we could do it,” Richie grinned widely, looking at the person who stood in front of him with devoted eyes, “Happy 27th Wedding Anniversary, my love!”

(Y/N) chuckled at the delighted sight of Richie. They really did it. They were finally together and the couple couldn’t be happier. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the thought of how skeptic she was in the past. How could she ever think that she would fail with her best friend by her side?

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[micycle--wheeler]

It Always Gets Stranger

Mike’s family is going to Maine for the summer. Sometimes, things take a turn for the worst.

CHAPTER 6

read on ao3

read chapter 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

words: 2162

warnings: homophobic / racial slurs (Henry Bowers, basically)

BEN Hanscom was a patient person. If anyone was to describe him, that was the word to use.

But when his yearlong friend, Richie Tozier, showed up at the quarry an entire hour late with six more people than expected, Ben’s patience was being tested.

“What the hell, Richie?” was Eddie Kaspbrak’s greeting to the boy, and he smiled sarcastically, showing off his slightly over-large incisors.

“Well ya see Eds, I was busy sayin’ goodbye to your mom and I lost track of the time-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie and his group of friends chorused, used to the antics of their trashmouth friend.

“What’s with the entourage?” Stan asked from his spot on a nearby rock, which he had taken to sitting on for the last half hour of waiting. The group of silent kids behind Richie shuffled, and Ben watched as a kid with wildly curly hair exchanged glances with a tall black boy.

Said boy spoke up, seeming to take leadership. “We’re friends of Mike, Richie’s cousin.” The boy motioned to another, who looked very much like Richie.

“Well, friends and cousins of Richie, welcome!” Beverly said from next to Bill, flashing a smile toward them. A couple of the strangers reciprocated, the curly haired kid and a girl with brown hair just as wild.

The air fell silent after that as everyone yook in the faces of new, and Ben did as well. There was also a girl with vivid red hair that could rival Bev’s, the long tresses pulled back into a ponytail. Next to the boy who looked like Richie (Mike, Ben was proud to remember) stood a kid with round eyes and a wary smile, his hair framing his face in a flattering way. A bird chirped and Stan’s head turned to the sound.

Surprisingly, Bill was the person to break the awkward silence. He motioned to the redhead’s shirt and asked, “Y-you like Eh-Eh-Elvis?”

She seemed to ignore his obvious stutter. “Yeah, I love him. You too?”

“Oh, I c-can never s-s-st-s-stop lis-listening to h-h-hi-him! The Losers ah-are always ann-an-annoyed at me,” He beamed. “Oh, and I d-d-do-don’t buh-buh-believe I caught your nuh-nuh-name.” She opened her mouth to speak as the curly kid beat her to it.

“She’s Max. I’m Dustin. And did you just call your friends ‘losers?’” Ben noted that some of his teeth seemed to be missing, and he had a slight lisp.

“It’s what we call ourselves,” Ben spoke up, and he felt slightly uncomfortable with so many new pairs of eyes focused on him. “The bullies called us ‘Losers,’ so we took the name as our own.”

“Original,” Max spoke up. “Our bullies just call us—”

Richie cleared his throat loudly, not in a way to get something out of it, but to draw attention to himself. “Uh, hello? Less chatty-chatty, more swimmy-swimmy? Come on fuckers, we’re losing daylight!” Richie strode over to the side of the cliff before anyone could point out to him that they had hours to swim.

“Wait, you’re gonna jump off of that?” Mike spoke up, a shake to his voice. He exchanged glances with Dustin and the unnamed girl, and Ben sensed that they had a story to tell from it.

“What’s wrong, Micycle, ‘fraid of heights?” Then he said quieter, “If he shits himself, it’ll be hilarious.”

“No, I’m not! I just… um… it’s a long story,” Mike defended himself.

“Probably about the diving board to the public pool, amiright?”

“Shut up, Richie. Not the time.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

Bill put a reassuring touch to Mike’s arm. “Do-don’t worry, Muh-Mih-Mike, we’ve all done it be-before. It’s perfectly safe.”

“But—”

“It’ll be fine, Mike. See? Watch.” Max pushed past Richie and took a large leap into the water. Everyone ran to watch her fall, and she let out a “Woo!” as she disrupted the water with a satisfyingly large splash.

“Holy shit!” Richie exclaimed. “That was really hot. Is she single?” Richie cringed away as Lucas punched him in the arm. The unnamed girl shook her head and jumped after Max. “Holy shit, is she single?”

“Beep-fucking-beep, asshole.”

“Aw, come on, Eds. I’m just asking a question you all know you wanted answered.”

Stan shook his head, the curls bouncing along. “Weren’t you hung up on Eddie’s mother ten minutes ago?”

“The past is in the past, Stan-the-Man.”

Ben looked at the others. “Wanna jump?”

Dustin grinned, his cheeks pulled up and his eyes crinkling. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Everyone’s feet left rock and flew through the air into the water, multiple cries of “Holy shit!” and “Woo-hoo!” being shouted into the air.

Ben did a head count, and, coming up two short, he looked back up at the cliff.

Two tiny figures stood, and Ben could see the dark hair and pale skin even from a height like that.

Richie and Mike seemed to be arguing, hands waving and voices carrying down the cliff, although Ben couldn’t decipher what they were saying. Ben saw hands connect a chest, and one of them came flailing down the cliff with a strangled “I’M GONNA KILL YOU, RICHARD!” The second figure followed, and Max gargled on water as she let out a laugh when Mike hit the water.

…

Lots of water-splashing and chicken-fighting ensued after that, and the twelve kids took to lounging on the rocks as they dried off and music from Richie’s boombox filled the air.

“So… what brings you guys to Derry?”

Stan had known about Richie’s family situation, as he had complained to them over and over since he’d gotten the news. He (and the rest of the Losers) had no idea as to why they had come.

“My mom,” Mike had spoken up. “She wanted to visit her sister and my entire family was dragged along.”

“Yeah, and we didn’t want him to be alone all summer,” Lucas elaborated.

“Sorry Rich,” Bev turned to the boy with magnified eyes, “if you have to leave for the summer, we’re ditching you.” Richie glared and everyone cracked a smile.

The air fell silent again, save the boombox blasting one of Richie’s many mixtapes.

“Is it true that Derry has twice the average amount of deaths than the national average?” Dustin burst out randomly, as if he was waiting to pop the question all day. The losers’ heads turned to Ben, knowing he was the library feel out of all of them.

“No, actually. It's six times.” Dustin's eyes widened, like a little kid that got what they wanted for Christmas.

“Totally tubular,” he smiled at Lucas and Max, although nobody else seemed to get the joke.

…

On the walk back, Eddie has a feeling of something being… off. When he asked Bev, she just shrugged, saying, “You always feel like something's off, Ed. I bet it's nothing,” and she pushed his shoulder in a sisterly manner.

“She really think shes gonna come outta that school?” Eddie turned at Stan's voice, his gaze fixed on a lone woman sitting on the steps of the empty school, hopping up peeking through the doors as if waiting for someone who was late.

“What? Who’s ‘she?’” the short boy, Eddie learned who was named Will, wondered.

“Betty Ripsom,” Beverly said to him. “She went missing a few weeks ago. That's her mom over there.”

“It's as if she’s been locked in a janitor’s closet for the last few weeks,” Eddie muttered, looking at the mother who was hiding on to a nonexistent thread of hope that her daughter was lost at school, that's all.

“Do you think they're actually gonna find her?” Stan spoke aloud to the silent group.

“Sure,” Richie started, and Eddie prepared himself for an offensive comment. “In a ditch, all decomposed, covered in worms and maggots and smelling like Eddie's mom's underwear.” Richie motioned to Eddie, who shivered at the idea.

“Shut up, this is freaking disgusting.” Eddie shook his head to rid himself of the image, filled with millions of deadly bacteria.

“She's not dead, she’s mm-meh-missing,” Bill said defensively, glaring at the bespectacled boy.

“Sorry, Bill,” Richie apologized, his extra-large eyes seeming to come into focus as he adjusted his glasses. “She's missing.”

Eddie was surprised. The only other times he'd heard Richie apologize was once to the principal for selling candy from his locker (after his mother forced him to), and once to a streetlight that he thought was a person after he ran into it. It was a thing of Richie's: he just didn't apologize to things because he usually didn't feel sorry.

But of course, Bill was always sort of treated a little like glass since what happened in October… Eddie still remembered the phone call and how Bill had to hand the phone to his mother because he was stuttering so badly.

“They’ll find her,” the curly-haired girl said, and Eddie was startled to realize this was the first time he’d heard her speak. She had a soft voice, and it reminded Eddie of a warm cabin in the woods that he had never been to before. She spoke with a sort of certainty to her voice that made it sound like she knew Betty personally, and had seen her. It was quite calming.

“Should we tell her about the shoe?” Ben was still staring at the mother, who glanced at the group before turning back to the school.

“What shoe? Did you guys find something?” Lucas asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“W-we were in the ss-sew-sewers yesterday,” Bill explained. “Looking f-for…” he took a deep breath, “no one.”

“‘Looking for no one.’ Wow, that’s not sinister sounding at all.” The redheaded Max shook her head as Lucas nudged her in the arm. She sighed. “Sorry.”

“Is that how you guys spend your summer?” Dustin asked, crunching down a granola bar that Eddie didn’t know how he got. “Inside of sewers?”

Richie was silent for a heartbeat before, “Beats spending it inside of your mother. Ohhh.” He raised his arm for a high-five to Stan, who grabbed it and yanked it down.

“Woah,” Mike said, looking at something Eddie couldn’t see, “Nice car.”

They all turned, spotting a blue Trans Am, and Eddie’s face paled. “W-we should get outta here.”

“Why, Kaspbrak?” a sneering voice spoke. “’Fraid you’ll go missing too?” Eddie turned around, spotting Henry Bowers standing just a few feet in front of the group. How he managed to sneak up on them, Eddie had no idea, and he sometimes wondered if he had the ability to teleport.

Riche let out a choking sound as the back of his shirt was yanked backwards, and he fell spectacularly into Stan, where they both landed on the ground with an almighty “oof.”

A large belch sounded right next to Eddie’s ear, and he cringed away from the sound and the hot breath, gagging as the boy, Belch Huggins, let out a big laugh.

“Knew he was a bottom,” Patrick said as Richie tried to get up off of Stan, and Victor Criss, another one of Henry’s goons, pushed him back down. Patrick kicked Stan in the arm. “Fuckin’ flamer!”

“And who have we here?” Henry said, looking toward Lucas, who had a scowl set on his face. Eddie wouldn’t put it past him that he would punch Henry if he had the chance. “You seem far from home, dontcha, Midnight?”

“Eat shit.”

“Oh, you think you’re all high ‘n’ mighty, don’t ya?” Henry said in that menacing voice of his. “Newsflash, kid: you don’t belong here. Stay out of this town. Or you’ll deserve what’s comin’ for ya.”

“Hmm, what else’ve we got here?” Victor seemed to have snuck up behind Max, and he had a handful of her hair in his fingers. She yanked herself away from him, turning around and stepping on his toes.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin said angrily. Henry’s gaze turned to him, and Dustin’s bravery seemed to melt.

“You seem to be missin’ a couple ’a teeth there, Curly. Shut up if you don’t want to lose some more.”

“Ss-sss-sshut it, Bowers!” Bill said angrily, his mouth seeming to not agree with his words as he spit them out. Henry turned around slowly, that threatening look back in his eyes.

“You suh-suh-say somethin’, Buh-Buh-Buh-Billy?” he strode over to the boy until they were inches apart. “Yeh got a free ride this year ‘cause ‘a your little brother. Ride’s over, Denbrough.”

Eddie knew he was going to do something horrible like he always did, but a police cruiser had rode down the street, slowing down while going by the kids. His father, Eddie thought to himself.

“This summer’s gonna be a hurt train. For you and your faggot friends.” He walked away and toward Belch Huggins’ car, but not before licking his hand and wiping it on Bill’s face.

The kids all watched them ride off.

“Wish he’d go missing,” Richie commented.

“He’s probably the one doing it,” Eddie said thoughtfully.

~~~

@cactus-byers

wanna be tagged? Just ask!

[spideyyverse]

Grease! AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Chapter: 3/7 

Alternate reality where Eddie Kaspbrak is a boy from New York visiting the small town of Derry for the Summer and so happens to have met the greaser himself, Richie Tozier.

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Stan Uris, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Audra Phillips

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly, Maudra (Audra x Mike!)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, underage drinking and smoking

Word Count: 2,094

Author Notes: Chapters will be based on a song from the movie, I’m not sure if I’ll do each song but if there’s a specific song you would like me to include, let me know in my ask box!

Also, the losers are very ooc. I understand they’re nothing like the way I’m portraying them in my story. Please do not get angry for the way I’m writing them, it’s apart of this au solely and that’s not how I actually view them.

Quick thank you to @get-fcking-reddie for the suggestion of Audra x Mike!

Tags: @universal-gay

What's that playing on the radio, why do I start swaying to and fro I have never heard that song before, but if I don't hear it anymore It's still familiar to me, sends a thrill right through me Cause those chords remind me of the night that I first fell in love to

It had been about a month and a half since the pep rally incident. After long and continuous “move on” and “He’s not worth it” from Bev and Audra, Eddie found himself mustering up some courage and agreed to go on a date with the football player he met at the pep rally. While the town of Derry was very much homophobic and Justin, the football player, was a closeted gay--both boys agreed to have dinner at the local diner. 

However, it had to be kept on the down-low; The date would be on Tuesday afternoon-a time when the diner wouldn’t be busy-and if anyone asked, they were just friends.  

“This is...nice,” Eddie bit his lip trying to make conversation.

“I guess...this place isn’t anything fancy. Although, the guys and I broke an arcade machine here once..” Justin shrugged eating some fries that were placed between both boys.

He continued to talk about the great broken arcade machine story while Eddie looked around the diner. His eyes landed on the juke box sitting near the hallway that led to the restrooms.

“Give me fifty cents, yeah?” Eddie interrupted Justin.

“Why?”

“Just give me fifty cents. It’ll be quick.”

Justin handed over fifty cents with a large amount of confusion placed all over his face, Eddie took the money and walked down to the jukebox. He inserted the two quarters and began to shuffle through the choices of songs.

Down the hallway that was next to the juke box, Richie Tozier had stepped out of the bathroom. He was running his hands through his hair when he heard the familiar sounds, it was the beginning of Africa by Toto. Something about it made him feel at home. It was the song that was playing when he and Eddie first met at the Quarry. 

Richie knew someone was standing behind him, as a matter of fact, he got a glance at the cute boy when he was wondering around the quarry. Silence was nice to have at times but Richie liked to smoke while listening to music. He brought over the boombox he stole from Ben and let the radio be his DJ for the hour. Africa by Toto began to play when he heard the boys’ footsteps. The cute boy. Cute, cute, cute...

Richie stopped in his steps when he saw the familiar brown hair standing in front of the juke box, he seemed satisfied with his choice of song and began walking back to where his table was. Richie picked up his pace and grabbed Eddie’s wrist before he could take another step.

“Ed’s,” Richie breathed.

“Don’t touch me,” Eddie growled but kept his voice low, despite the diner being mainly empty, he still didn’t want to cause a scene with the people that were there. 

“Please, it’ll only take two minutes. I just wanna talk,” Richie pleaded.

“You sure had a lot to say at the pep rally,” 

“You have to understand that wasn’t me Ed’s- none of that was,” 

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that and pretend everything is okay Richie,” Eddie snapped.

“Eddie-” Richie bit his lip, from the corner of his eye, he could see the guys stepping into the diner after taking their smoke break.

“No Richie. You had your chance, besides, I’m with Justin now. He’s a sweet guy.” Eddie sighed and gave a small smile at Justin who made eye contact with him.

Richie wasn’t used to whatever pain that was tingling in his chest. he wasn’t used to rejection. He was Richie Tozier. Secret bisexual but could also get any boy or girl in his room then leave the next day and not think anything of it. Why was Eddie different? 

Because Eddie Kaspbrak had morals.

Because some stupid song called Africa was playing the day Richie Tozier fell in love with Eddie Kaspbrak and it fucking hurts him.

Beatings of my broken heart will rise the first place of the charts, Oh, my heart arranges, oh, those magic changes

Meanwhile, a month and a half earlier, Stanley Uris and Bill Denbrough were still closeted gays. 

Key word; were.

Stan and Bill didn’t think anyone would be in the area they parked at the drive-in. They parked in an area where they couldn’t even see the movie, it was far off to the side and the car wasn’t even parked in the direction of the large screen. So it was a surprise when Henry Bowers and his crew showed up hooting and hollering at both boys.

The thing was, Stan and Bill weren’t sucking face; They weren’t urging to take each others pants off. No, they were having a small and quiet conversation. Stan wasn’t some asshole who is always out to get someone and Bill wasn’t some leather jacket wearing asshole who does weed under the bleachers (That was Richie). With their quiet and shy conversation, they shared small pecks every once in a while. They knew being at the drive in would be Taboo, Bill even offered to drive back to his house on the way, but Stan insisted that they go the drive in.

Now that Henry and his merry band caught the two boys exchanging a soft kiss, they paraded with how much they were going to be able to torment the two boys. Now don’t get anyone wrong, the T birds nor the Pink Ladies take any of the Bowers Gang shit but when your closeted gay and the guy who holds a lot power just caught you kissing another dude, the situation is different.

“Denbrough? You’re one of those fags?” Henry sneered.

Bill only stood silent, letting the word fag run around in his mind.

“Now Uris. I’m not surprised. I’ve always known he’s one of those faggots, but you-You, I didn’t expect this!” Henry laughed while his gang snickered behind him like a bunch of hyenas. 

“L-leave him a-alone!” Bill snapped but it wasn’t very intimidating, his stutter really took control when he felt scared--And in this case, he was scared shitless.

He nor Stan were afraid of Bowers, they were afraid of what he was capable of. 

“Y-you w-want me t-to l-leave him a-alone?” He mocked him and stepped towards the car that had the roof down. 

“Henry, you can’t tell anyone. Please.” Stan pleaded but his voice came as low as a whisper.

“What was that Stanley? Begging? Whatever happened to the Stan who made people plead for him? I’m sure you would plead to suck my-” Henry didn’t finish the sentence by the time Bill hopped out the car and swung at Henry, sending him flying towards the car. 

“Bill!” Stan screamed but Henry had already tackled the Denbrough boy.

As strong as Bill was, he was outnumbered. Four against one. Stan froze as he watched his boyfriend get the shit kicked out of him.

Henry grabbed Bill by the collar of his shirt and held him to the point where Bill could feel his hot breath breathing against his, “If you don’t want people to know that you’re a fag, you’re gonna have to race us at Thunder Road,”

Bill could only nod as Henry continued, “You have until the end of the year to fix that shit box you call a car. I can’t guarantee that I can hold a secret for that long.” 

Henry let go of Bill and walked off with his crew.

Stan ran over to Bill and carried him to the passengers seat. Stan started the engine and began to drive back to his house, he prayed that his parents weren’t home. One good thing came out of that night, Stan’s parents weren’t home. 

The car ride had been silent, the radio static was the only thing that kept them company. Stan led Bill upstairs and to the bathroom. He pulled out the first aid kit and tended to Bill’s wounds.

“Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“We can’t do this, not anymore,” Stan whispered looking down at his feet.

“S-stan? No? W-we can m-make this w-work, this is o-our l-last y-year then w-we l-leave this s-shit hole!” Bill rose his voice a bit.

“This isn’t going to work if we’re constantly targeted and who knows how far Henry and his stupid crew will go!” Stan argued

“S-stan, it’s s-something w-we’re j-just g-going to have to d-deal w-with, besides w-we have until-”

“No Bill! We’re not doing this anymore!”

“S-stan P-please!”

“I’m doing this to protect you!”

“If you ever loved me, you wouldn’t fucking let Henry get in the way of us.” Bill snapped, his stutter disappearing along with his love for the curly haired boy.

I'll be waiting by the radio, you'll come back to me someday, I know Been so lonesome since our last goodbye, but I'm singin' as I cry 

It was now January. No one understood why Stan always seemed like he had a stick up his ass and no one understood why Bill had practically made home in the car shop. Eddie didn’t need to hear Stan’s comments about everything he did. Meanwhile, Richie was stuck as Mike and Audra’s third wheel since Bill called Ben to help him out with the wheel. 

“Hey Audra, would you-um-be my date to the Winter formal?” Mike scratched the back of his neck, he sounded like a middle schooler asking his crush out.

Richie only rolled eyes when Audra happily squealed yes and practically threw herself at him. Richie got up and walked towards the other end of the bleachers. Richie lit up a cigarette while Eddie sat in the stands with his secret boyfriend who was taking a break from football practice. 

Richie turned his head when he saw Eddie and whatever-his-name-was share a quick peck when they figured no one was looking. Richie felt anger build up in his chest, he threw his unfinished cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. He marched towards the track coach.

“Coach, I wanna join the team,” Richie instantly demanded.

“Tozier? Athletic?” The coach rose an eyebrow.

“Just let me try out Coach’ everyone deserves a fair try out, don’t they?” Richie smirked.

The coach only sighed and told Richie to change into athletic wear, which Richie thankfully had in his locker. Half an hour later, the team was finally done with warm ups and set off on the track. Richie jogged, trying to let his mind focus on anything but Eddie.

Anything but Eddie’s brown eyes. Anything but Eddie’s brown, soft curly hair. Anything but Eddie’s smile. 

Eddie was still sitting at the bleachers, trying to focus on the football but his eyes kept wondering off to focus on Richie.

Richie let his focus become about Eddie and Eddie only. He focused on Eddie sitting on the bleachers in his overalls. Cute, cute, cute!

Richie quickened his pace to turn his jog into a sprint but didn’t realize his shoelaces were untied. He tripped over his laces as Eddie watched and it sent him tumbling across the track.

“Richie!” Eddie shouted running towards the boy. 

Eddie quickly pulled some bandages from his bag and began to patch up Richie. Richie could only feel his tummy erupt with butterflies with the feeling of Eddie’s touch.

“Jesus Rich, you have to be more careful next time, are you okay?”

Richie only smiled, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I just fell for you,”

Eddie could only bite back his smile but failed, “You’re an idiot Richie Tozier,”

“Listen Ed’s, let me make it up to you. Be my date to the winter formal,” Richie bit his lip then continued, “I can’t keep waiting for you. I need you now. I’ve been listening to our stupid song that was playing when we first met. I can’t keep missing you, I need you.”

Eddie quickly looked around and when he noticed no one was watching, he smashed his lips with Richie’s but quickly pulled apart, “Of course Chee.”

“What about your boyfriend?” Richie tried so hard to contain his excitement. The boy he pinned over for so long, the boy he loved was finally his again. 

“He’s an airhead. He loves his muscles more than anything,”

Eddie continued, “Now the real question is, will our suits or ties match?”

[athousandheartsattack]

I started paying real attention to music in 1989. I was at summer camp and I taped two U2 albums, War and Unforgettable Fire, on someone’s boombox that had two cassette players so you could make tape copies (also, later on that same summer, I bought The Cure’s Boys Don’t Cry, my first purchased cassette). I was 14 years old. I listened to Unforgettable Fire a lot, War not so much (I got into that album much later) but at the time I gravitated towards The Cure more. It isn’t until Achtung Baby (an album that, over 25 years later, still gets tons of play in my home) that I fell in love. Every U2 album released since then has, on first listen, been a letdown. They’ll never make Achtung Baby again. It is a messy, beautiful, dark, noisy masterpiece. Let’s do the post AB rundown: Zooropa has a few classics but also has many (too many) throwaway tracks. Pop is admirable in its bold attempt at, basically, anti-pop pop, but I still can’t make up my mind about whether or not it’s any good (I like it, though I spent years unable to stand it). All That You Can’t Leave Behind was well received because it basically wasn’t Pop, but it’s a bland album that has very few keepers (I’m a guy who cannot stand Elevation, but there’s no denying Beautiful Day is great). How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb is a great late U2 offering (what a great album title!) and while it’s uneven – especially in the back half – it has some truly amazing songs and renewed my faith that the band was capable of greatness. Then they release No Line On The Horizon, which is their worst album by a mile. It opens AMAZINGLY well, the first few moments of the title track are a burst of great, noisy guitar and really dynamic singing and everything works so goddamn well and then they shit the bed with a chorus that stops the momentum of the song dead. The album never recuperates. It has songs that range from “it’s ok, I guess” to “awful”. I love this band, but there you have it. Here’s the funny thing, though: that album is bookended by the release of two U2 classic singles: Window In The Sky, a fantastic single released in 2006 that was never on any album, and the powerful Invisible, released in 2014 as a single and later showing up as a hidden song on the deluxe edition of their next album, Songs Of Innocence. Again, both of these tracks are top of the shelve U2. Just when you think that’s it, they’re out of ideas; they give you a nugget of gold to prove you wrong. This brings us to Songs Of Innocence, and album best described as fine. It has some good songs, no classics, and a few throwaways on the b side. So the post Achtung Baby U2 is a band that is easy to love (they keep coming up with great singles) and easy to be let down by (other than Atomic Bomb – which comes closest to being a fully great album - most of those albums are good to great EPs padded up to long players with a handful of disposable tracks…)

And this all leads us to Songs Of Experience, their best, most even album since Achtung Baby. Not as good as AB, but what a relief to hear a U2 album with no skippable tracks. Not a one. The quality varies, they’re not all classics, but there’s nothing on here that makes me ashamed of liking that band (I’m looking at you, Stand Up Comedy). So let’s have at it, shall we?

It’s earnest. I think that’s what I like the most about it. It wears it all on its sleeve. It’s fragile and vulnerable and scared and angry and in love and thankful and happy and romantic and loving. So it’s cheesy. It’s corny. Three songs have the word “love” in the title. There’s a lot of talk about the power of love all over these songs. To me that’s a good thing. I like cheesy, my friends know this. Show me a teen movie third act victorious prom scene and I will cry, guaranteed. So I’m fine with someone one belting out that Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way. You, however, might not be. This is my review. Go be cynical somewhere else.

Another thing that will maybe put some people off is how clean and safe the album is. This is a white glove album. Nothing here will upset anyone. U2 have done stuff in the past that, umm, flustered some folks (I won’t get into any of that here, this is about the music) so I think they had a very strong desire to please. That being said, this is superb, efficient song writing. So let’s talk about the songs. All of them. Yes, this will be that type of review.

The album opener is called Love Is All We Have Left. It’s great. It reminds me of Unforgettable Fire era U2, more specifically its B side. It’s a subdued, short song (under three minutes) with no drums and no guitar (unless it’s heavily filtered and I didn’t recognize it as such). Just strings, voice and studio fidgiting. It’s lovely and earnest and full of grace. Maybe it’s cheesy. It’s a fantastic start to the album. It also has the only weird, out of left feel move on the entire album: on the second verse the voice is auto-tuned. I love it. It feels a little like Bon-Iver, maybe. It works, and when the voice returns to swoon us into its chorus, it’s all the more effective. Might not be everyone’s cup of tea, though.

That is followed by Lights Of Home, which is kind of part Rolling Stones, part White Stripes, with a great gospel bridge at the end. Simple chords with no showy effects. I think it would have fit nicely on Rattle And Hum, an album I really like. The Haim sisters are on this track. I really like the gospel bit.

You’re The Best Thing About me is the weakest song on the album, but it has such a great, catchy and infectious chorus that I can’t skip it. I’m just not crazy about how it starts, but I like everything after those first 30 seconds. There’s a lovely bit of The Edge singing (who, by the way, does stellar backing vocal almost throughout the album) towards the end, something about someone needing to be loved quietly, which I think is beautiful.

Get Out Of Your Own Way is stadium-sized U2. A big, Beautiful Day-style anthem full of hooks that, like some other songs on this album, could be faulted with trying a little too hard, but I like that. It’s better than not trying at all (and in U2’s defence it has never felt, in 40+ years of making music, like they didn’t care about the music they are making. These guys try, like, all the damn time). That song ends (and the next one starts) with a powerful guest spot by Kendrik Lamar. I’m just mentioning this. Maybe you like him? He’s there.

American Soul is GREAT. I loooove how that song starts: Kendrik Lamar says what he has to say and then some big, fat, dirty chords are banged out of a guitar, it feels like White Stripes again, with the drum pounding in time. Just two chords. Bam-Bam. Then silence. Then two more. BAM-BAM. Then two more again. Then the song takes off. An angry, anti-Trump, pro-refugee, pro America (the inspiring, idea of America, not the travesty of that dream that’s on the news every fucking day). That song is the first of two songs that borrow from Songs Of Innocence. In this case the chorus is taken straight from a bridge in the song Volcano. It is used better here, in a song that is better than Volcano. This happens again on the album closer, we’ll get to that in a bit.

Summer Of Love is a great little diddy, with a beautiful vocal melody and simple chords stripped once again of the big fat pedals effects that The Edge is normally so fond of. The song is great, it never goes for epicness, it never tries to be more than what it is. Just a lovely little song. Well written, everyone in the band understanding where this thing needs to go (this is true of the entire album: it is played by a band whose members are all on the same page about tone and feeling and purpose, it shows). I have a criticism, though. In the middle of the song there is a switch. It’s good. The guitar becomes a bit distorted (just a bit, calm down) and the vocals become more dramatic for a bit and then the song returns to its status quo in a formidable bit of manoeuvering and strings come in and it’s all good, but that initial switch is a bit weird. It feels like another song was tacked onto the one you’re listening to. It’s a rushed bit of mixing. But that doesn’t kill the song, it’s just a transition that maybe could’ve been smoother. Or maybe that’s how they want this to sound, who am I to judge?

Red Flag day is one of the stand-out tracks from the album (certainly from the A side – the B-side of this album is unbelievably strong). This song sounds like War-era U2. It feels rebellious and youthful. The guitar and bass hooks are so fucking good. Very propulsive. Again, very simple chords, very little effects. Just good song writing.

I love the next song so much, but some people won’t stomach it I think. It’s called The Showman (Little More Better) and it sounds like early Beatles. For real. It’s a light, insanely catchy little pop gem that hasn’t failed to put a smile on my face since my first listen. Maybe U2 aren’t supposed to do Beatles-type songs, but here I am, glad that they did.

The Little Things That Give You Away is a highlight for me. It could fit on Achtung Baby (after So Cruel or something). It starts off slow and builds up to one of the most classic, chill-inducing U2 moments on the album. It starts like something on Unforgettable Fire, with vague (but beautiful) echo-y guitar melodies that support the gorgeous vocal work. The chorus is achingly melancholic, and the final bridge builds and builds until you realize your feet aren’t touching the ground anymore. Definitely a keeper.

Landlady is a love letter from Bono to his wife. It has a classic U2-sounding guitar, think Unforgettable Fire and Joshua Tree, a lovely vocal melody, and a lot of respect, love and gratitude. It’s another one that doesn’t strive for big anthemic swells of melody, it is content to just be as beautiful as possible. What is interesting is that they could have easily made that song bigger, the final third begs to escalate, but the restraint is more powerful.

The Blackout is another rocker like American Soul. It is very much Adam Clayton’s song (the bass is so good). It has a good sing-along chorus but everytime you get back to the verse the song shines more. It’s fist-pumping, feet-stomping rock and roll. They have been trying to write that song for a long time, it seems (what with the Vertigos, the Get On Your Boots and so on) and here it feels like they know what they have is special.

Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way, the penultimate song on the record, will test you. It is really, sublimely cheesy. I like it a lot. I find that there is something defiant in being so boldly hopeful in these difficult times, to place all you have on the unstoppable, all-consuming urgency of love. The song is filled with gorgeous melodies, but there is, in particular, a chant that happens towards the end of the song that is so joyful, so buoyantly optimistic in the face of adversity, that it lifts the entire thing a mile into the sky. This is, once again, really big U2.

The album closes with 13 (There Is A Light). This is the second song to borrow from Songs Of Innocence, this time they re-purpose the entire chorus of Song For Someone, and once again I believe the end result is more powerful. This song mirrors the tone of the album opener. It is more atmospheric, with Bono quietly crooning to a slow subtle emotional build that pays off in beauty but not flamboyance. The song never gets big, it gets softly magnificent. Its restraint is resplendent. It’s a perfect way to end the album.