#you deserve the world but here’s Peter Parker

[via-a-person]

Just so you know, you’re an amazing person and you matter to someone and you have a good day because you deserve it! 🥰

[politemenacephd]

The Surrogate (Part One)

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18)

Part two Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

notes: i am working on arachnophilia, shits jst kinda rough, but i started this a while ago, enjoy x

‘You want what?!’

You almost spat out your drink in shock, unsure if you’d really heard what you’d just heard correctly. It was a miracle you didn’t accidentally spit alcohol into your companions faces.

You were sat in a booth at the bar all the spiders went to in Nueva York when off duty. It was pristine and white like almost everything else in this world, with floating tables and neon lights adorning the walls in various space themed shapes.

You’d been here a couple times before yourself, but tonight was different.

You’d been brought here by two of your friends from the Spider Society; Peter, one of the older ones, and Miguel, the head of the entire institute and Peter’s very open partner. They’d been incredibly cryptic about why they’d wanted to meet, with Peter simply insisting over and over that it was important, that they needed you to hear them out, and though you’d rolled your eyes a bit as he followed you around the HQ like a lost dog you’d eventually relented to his pleading.

You were now very aware of why they’d been so cryptic.

As you wiped away the small dribble of drink left sliding down your chin, Miguel and Peter continued to watch you in silence. Miguel was fixed with his usual sombre expression while Peter beamed at his side, hands clasped on the table in an inviting, open manner. It was the strangest contrast.

‘Just, think about it!’ Peter said. ‘That’s all we’re asking!’

‘No, no—wait, so I heard correctly?’ you stammered. Peter and Miguel shot each other a look before turning back to you in unison. After some nudging from Peter, Miguel forced a similar patient smile onto his face.

‘Yes. You, heard correctly’ he said. You gabbed at them both.

‘I—So, you, want me to be your surrogate?’ you repeated dumbly. The two men nodded.

‘W…. why?’ you asked, your voice audibly wheezing as you darted between the two. The two men just glanced at each other. They seemed almost dumbfounded that you would ask such a question, like they hadn’t anticipated your immediate acceptance.

‘Well, we… We love the girls, so much, and—we just, we want another one’ Peter said. ‘It’s all we talk about at home! Every night, how May and Gabi deserve a sibling, and—recently they started talking about it too, and—we can’t tell them no!’

‘But, I mean—sure, that’s great, but Why me? Why are you coming straight to me? Have you guys ruled out adoption, or… I mean I’m just, surprised? Or, confused? Definitely confused’ you replied slowly.

‘Ah, no, we haven’t… ruled it out, per say’ Peter said with a shrug. ‘Just—it’s, hard to work out adoption when uh—’

‘Peter isn’t from this universe’ Miguel bluntly interrupted. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. ‘And—with my genetics, and my background, it—the government would never allow it.’

‘Oh… Oh, I see. But, why me then?’ you stammered. You were on good terms with the two men, that was true enough, but you hadn’t thought you were this close. It was so out of left field as well.

‘We—ran an analysis on whose genetics would be best suited for the role’ Miguel muttered. You noticed that he looked embarrassed to be admitting this. ‘Because of what happened to me, how my DNA was spliced, it’s tricky. I’m not genetically compatible with a lot of people. You were, one of five candidates, and we believed you were the best.’

You couldn’t help but wonder who the other candidates were, but more so you were stuck on the idea of needing to be genetically compatible. You knew Miguel was unusual, but, that unusual?

‘So, you came to me first, huh?’ you asked, lightly stirring your drink.

‘Yes!’ Peter hissed. He was leaning in over his lap with his fists tucked to his chest, his eyes wide and desperate. ‘Yes! Because we trust you!’

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet insistence. ‘Hey, guys, I like you too, but—’

‘We’ll compensate you’ Peter insisted. ‘We will! Miguel will pay WHATEVER you want. The entire time we’ll pay for housing, food, medical care. You will be absolutely safe. And, along with that, we’ll give you a full payment after the babies born as thanks! We’ll—’

‘Hey, hey, woah!’ You raised your hands to try and slow the man down as he began physically crawling over the table in his excitement. Miguel grunted and silently grabbed his collar, dragging him back to his seat. Peter squirmed a little in his partner’s tight grip. ‘I’m just explaining, I—’

‘Look, that—that’s all amazing. I just—’ You were silenced as Peter reached over once more to slap down a cheque on the table. You darted your eyes at the two men before lifting it up.

‘Holy…. Shit’ you hissed.

It was a lot. A LOT of money. Not so much as to be impossible or unreasonable, but enough to make your stomach drop.

‘I—you’d, give me this?’ you stammered.

‘Yes! For your labour and time’ Peter said. ‘Fair compensation.’

You paused. This amount of money was enough to make a serious, permanent difference in your life. You’d told yourself you could cope, that you could just put up with the status quo, but this changed everything. And what, all you had to do was carry their baby for nine months?

Peter leaned closer. ‘Are you, just not comfortable with pregnancy, or—’

‘No’ you said, eyes still fixed on the cheque. ‘No, it’s—fine, just… Are we, doing this like, casually?’

‘I’m willing to pay for us to both have lawyers. You can choose yours, so you’re comfortable, just bill me ahead of time for the cost. We’ll draft up contracts to be sure no boundaries are broken, and to ensure you have a legal right to what we say we owe you, and of course with clauses to protect your personal autonomy’ Miguel explained. Man, when he talked business he was so commanding, you thought.

‘Huh. Okay. I mean… I, I guess I, would be fine with that’ you muttered back.

‘I understand this would be a large undertaking’ Miguel said, his body leaning a little closer. You watched with wide and curious eyes as his arm came down over the table. You were fixated on the bulge of his bicep, nearly the size of your head now bursting from the seam of his slim fit shirt. It made you a little dizzy, as did the thick, dark hair across his forearm. You watched his calloused fingers drumming on the table, revelling in the clack of his talons.

Peter must have seen you eyeing him because he rushed to hide his smug smile. He knew you were giving in.

‘I’m taking it seriously. You will be compensated, you will be cared for. I just need to know that you understand what you’re getting into. We… Trust you, well enough. That’s why we’re asking you. We trust that you’d have our best interests as heart, just as we’d have yours’ Miguel said slowly. You nodded.

‘Okay. Sure. So, do we do invitro, or—’

The way their faces changed caused you to stutter on your words. They glanced at each other, their faces strained, as if they dreaded what they had to say next. Miguel pumped his brow once before turning away, leaving Peter to sigh and address you alone. Clearly Miguel didn’t trust himself to deliver whatever the bargain was.

‘We… Ideally, we, would like a… natural, conception’ Peter said, his voice dipping slightly on the word ‘natural.’

You felt all the blood rush from your head, only to rise back up and fill your cheeks with a pulsating warmth. Natural? Conception?

‘So… You, would want to get me pregnant—’

‘Physically. By us’ Miguel said. You hated how you shuddered slightly at his voice, at that smooth, husky, sombre tone. It slid down your ears like silk.

‘It’s just, our preference’ Peter explained with a lopsided smile. ‘Miguel’s not a fan of, sterile environments like an invitro lab, brings back bad memories you know? And—well we don’t like the idea of anyone having access to his genes, or mine, that’s bad news. Plus, it’s less stress on you, theoretically. No doctors poking you, or injecting thing, blegh. You know. You know, of course you know.’

You nodded along slowly as he spoke. I mean, it made sense. You had felt some concern when it was first brought up but they both seemed sincere, like this was just the best option, and they seemed so excited. You decided to continue entertaining this idea.

‘Ah… Sure. So, would it just be, one, of you? Like we work out who we want, or—’

‘Well, I mean, we’re not fussed about who the biological father is’ Peter said, his lip tilting into a shy half-smile. ‘It can be either of us. But, chances of success are higher if, we… both, are, trying.’

You raised both brows as you slowly realized what he was coyly implying. ‘You—so, both of you? You’d, both be having sex with me?’

‘Yyyyeaahh’ Peter said. His dorky smile was so annoyingly sweet, you thought glumly, especially on such a handsome face. You always struggled to say no to him. ‘It’s just, like we said, ensure it happens quicker.’

‘And you’re both fine with this?’

‘Yes! We discussed it before, I made the big guy go to therapy first’ Peter said, playfully tugging on Miguel’s arm as the man stoically stared into the distance. He was putting on a stern face but he was clearly endeared by Peter’s affectionate attitude. ‘Its fine! It’s easier, with you being a friend, because you know us and you respect our relationship already.’

‘I sure do’ you said with a slight laugh.

‘See? Exactly! But yes, we talked about it, we know it’s just business. Well, I mean—not to say, it can’t be fun, I mean that’s what they say right? Making the baby is the fun part—’

‘Peter, please’ Miguel groaned between gritted teeth.

‘What? What! What did I say?’ Peter whined. You stifled your laughter as the two bickered.

‘What I’m saying is, we wouldn’t expect you to just, lie on your back like a brood mare and, uh—just, put up with it’ Peter said in a hushed voice as he returned to you. ‘We’re happy to both be involved, we’re happy to, make sure you’re enjoying yourself too, just—we’ll work out the boundaries.’

Again, you nodded slowly. It was a lot to take in, but they seemed to understand that.

‘Just… Just, gimme a minute’ you asked as you picked up your drink. Miguel nodded while Peter went into a ramble about how fine that was, words which you quickly tuned out as you disassociated into your own thoughts.

It was all happening so fast. You supposed you’d have time after this to work it out, though, They said there’d be contracts drawn up, that would take time. Just… did you want to do this?

Having the baby sounded scary, but as they said it’d be around the clock care. With the head of the spider society and all his equipment on hand it’d be hard to imagine something going wrong. You did also trust the two of them, they were your friends and had proven themselves to be good men. Well, most of the time.

And it wasn’t that you were opposed to sleeping with either of them. They were unbelievably attractive, each in their own unique way. Miguel was gorgeous, a top heavy giant with beautiful eyes and such a deep and expressive face, and Peter had that sweet DILF charm about him. They both did, really.

So what was the hang up? Really, WAS there a hang up? It felt like there should be one, but, the more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t find one.

9 months of work was rough, real rough, but you’d be cared for to the max. You’d be paid an extraordinary amount, enough to change your life. You’d be done and over, a clean cut single job once it was done, and supposedly you’d have your own lawyer to ensure you were protected.

Should everything go to plan… It sounded, almost perfect.

You just had to suck up the courage to lie down and let these two men put a baby in you. The moment you contemplated the thought, your face started to heat up, and you rushed to take a drink to cool it down.

“Okay. Ah, can I… Speak?” You asked, awkwardly calling back their attention. The two men turned to you in unison.

“Okay…” you said slowly, before taking another, conclusive breath. “Okay. I’m in. If—”

‘OH! YES, THANK YOU!”

Your response was cut short as Peter flung himself over the table and wrapped you into a bear hug, an embrace so tight that you could barely breath. Miguel simply offered a sympathetic, if slightly exasperated smile over Peter’s back, before helping to claw the man back once more. “Thank you, thank you- oh this means so much to us!” Peter stammered, ignoring your attempts to quiet him. You could feel other people staring across the bar now and it was becoming quite distracting.

“Yeah, yeah, just- Okay, I happy to start the process. I do want that lawyer, uh- not that I don’t trust you guys, but, like you said it’s a big deal’ you said. Miguel grunted approvingly.

‘I wouldn’t have wanted you for the job if you hadn’t accepted that’ he replied, idly glancing at his nails. ‘I’d only accept someone who was, well… Smart enough to set boundaries, even if we are friends.’

‘Right, right. Good. That’s- good’ you said. At this point your mind was racing. You’d accepted the offer, but, what now? It’d probably be a while before any action happened but the sudden, daunting realization that action *would* happen hit you like a truck. You glanced over to where Miguel and Peter were now deep in conversation.

God, they were both huge. Huge. Miguel especially was enormous, nearly 6ft 9 with that thick neck and toned upper torso, the glint of his chiselled collar bone gleaming beneath the neon bar lights. Peter wasn’t as muscular but he was still tall, nearly as tall as Miguel, and he had that quiet, unsuspecting dad-bod strength about him.

You felt your shoulders hunch a little. You had no idea what to expect going forward here, all you knew is that—

‘Hey, sorry, are you gonna finish this those?’

You jumped back to reality to find Peter pointing across you at the table. Your eyes slowly followed his finger, which you realized was pointing at a half-finished bowl of fries you’d got when you arrived after missing dinner. Your eyes shot back up.

‘Uh… I mean, probably not, no’ you said. Peter didn’t say anything more; he just made that sweet, pleading puppy dog face and tilted his head a little. You and Miguel both sighed in unison, but you willingly slid them over to him.

“Oh thank you—” Peter said before his words were turned to garbled mess as he finished the bowl. You turned awkwardly back to Miguel instead. “I’ll send the paperwork over tomorrow” Miguel said, pre-empting your immediate thoughts. “We’re in no rush, so, we’ll work out the details at your pace.” ‘Aha, ah- sure. Thanks. I mean I’m, assuming it’ll be a long process anyway, right?” you replied.

Miguel tilted his head a little. ‘You mean, the pregnancy? Yes, though, I’ve heard it goes quicker than you think. We’ll do all we can to—’

‘OH, no! Not like, the pregnancy specifically” you elaborated, hands now raised. That drew Peter to look up from devouring everyone else’s meal, his eyes curiously fixed on you. Miguel’s stony red gaze remained locked in much the same way.

‘I mean the uh… The, baby making process’ you explained, giving a shrug to try and ease the awkwardness of saying such a thing. Miguel didn’t flinch though; he continued to stare, his head slightly tilted. ‘Like, making a baby can take… months, up to a year even. We’ll have to work around that timeframe I assume’ you said, finishing your point in a rather stilted manner.

Peter turned to look at Miguel. The neon lights were blaring at his back, shadowing his face until his features popped. So sharp, so thick-set, so chiselled. To your surprise, he suddenly smiled in a way you’d never seen before. He gave you a smug, wolfish grin, flashing just an inch of fang.

‘Oh, no. Don’t you worry about that’ he murmured, his voice unnervingly confident. You blinked and watched with a burning core as Miguel leaned forward to finish.

‘It won’t take long at all.’

[reidingandwriting]

darlin’ i’d wait for you > p.p.

Word Count: ~5,000

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: The author entirely makes up how the memory erasing spell would work, mild language throughout, mentions of an attempted mugging

Author’s Note: What watching NWH for the first time in two years does to a mf! Cross posted on my ao3 account. Peter deserves a happy ending and by god I’m giving him one!!

It was a cold night that night. Peter swung through the city, happy things were relatively calm tonight. though he wouldn’t mind a little more action so he could fight and warm up a little. He was about to turn in for the night, anyway, so Peter could cope.

It was on his swing back home that he saw it. Three bulking men cornering one person in an alley. Peter perched on the rooftop, assessing the scene before he jumped in. Two appeared to be unarmed, but Peter froze when he saw the gun the third pulled out. Peter quickly shot a web at the gun, yanking it out of his hands and up towards the roof before he dove in. One direct kick to the face had the first guy out cold.

Peter dodged the punch from one of the others and he narrowly missed another punch from the other. Peter landed a punch of his own to one of the men and webbed him to the wall before doing the same to the remaining guy. Peter webbed the guy who had the gun against the side of the dumpster in case he woke up, and then he turned to face you.

“Holy shit. Thank you so much, Spider-Man.” Peter froze when he heard your voice and he was grateful to the mask for hiding his expression. You. Tony's child, his former partner… all before Doctor Strange’s spell erased all memories of peter parker from the world. Realization flashed in your eyes and Peter felt his heart skip a beat from your smile. Did you remember? “Spidey! I haven't seen you in forever it feels like. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?”

Of course you didn’t remember him. You knew Spider-Man from him working with the Avengers, but you didn’t know him. Most of the time he spent with your family was as Peter. Spider-Man had been a rare visitor to the Stark family; what was the point of hiding behind the Spider-Man persona when you all knew him? Why hide from someone who had been to his and May’s home countless times? From the same someone who had spent hours in the lab with him making improvements to the spider suit.

“Yeah. Yeah, it has been, hasn’t it?” Peter rubbed the back of his neck and you still smiled that bright, warm smile. Peter's eyes began to burn with the feeling of unshed tears; god he had missed you so much. “I'm, uh, surprised you’re out here this late.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be. Happy was running a little late picking me up, and I thought it would be quicker for me to just walk over to his, but then that happened,” you laughed and Peter couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Do- do you want an escort? Or I could wait with you until you’re picked up. My patrol is over anyways, and I don’t. I don't have anywhere else to be.” Peter offered and you nodded.

“Let me just,” your phone ringing cut you off and you smiled apologetically at him. “One second, sorry.” You dug your phone out of your pocket and answered it, holding it to your ear. “Hey, Hap!” Peter could faintly make out happy on the other line and his heart ached. Happy… Peter tuned out the majority of your conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop and violate your privacy, even if he kind of wanted to just to hear Happy’s voice some more. You hung up the phone a moment later and Peter turned to look at you.

“What's the plan?”

“Since I'm not too far from Happy, I think I'll walk over to where he’s waiting. Are you sure you don’t mind walking with me? I'm sure you’re ready to get home by now.” Home. Peter wanted to laugh- home didn’t exist to him anymore. Not one he could have, anyways.

“Wouldn’t be very friendly neighborhood Spider-Man of me to let you walk by yourself, especially after you’ve already been cornered once. At gunpoint,” Peter emphasized and you merely shrugged.

“Unfortunately something I've gotten somewhat immune to. The panic will hit later,” Your tone was joking but Peter knew the weight behind your words. You were like your dad. So good at bottling up emotions and being able to put them to good use. Until the bottle eventually filled and you cracked. You had gotten better about bottling up and your emotions hit faster now- even if you did have delayed reactions to trauma at this point. “I guess we should start walking then, huh?”

Peter followed just a step behind you as you walked to Happy’s. You made small talk with Peter, asking him how patrols were going and how he had been lately. Peter brushed over that question and turned it back on you, and you happily obliged. You had just left your friend Betty’s since it was her birthday, and you were about to go back home to celebrate the holidays with Happy, your mom, and sister. Pepper and Morgan…

It had taken a few visits for Morgan to warm up to Peter, but she had quickly worked her way into his heart and she rather quickly learned that she had Peter (and most everyone who knew her) wrapped around her finger. He had countless movie nights with you and the younger Stark and Peter remembered the first time Morgan chose to cuddle into his side during the movie like it was yesterday.

“What about you, Spidey? Any plans for the holidays?” Your question startled Peter and he shook his head. “Nothing?”

“I.. I don't really have anyone to celebrate with. Will probably just stay in, watch some movies. Maybe do an extra long patrol, gotta make sure everyone else gets to be safe during the holidays.” There goes that look Peter missed- you were thinking about something; your brows furrowed just slightly and your nose scrunched in contemplation.

“Well, if you get lonely. You should reach out to me.” You dug in your bag for a moment before you pulled out a sticky note and pen. You wrote quickly before you handed the note to him- your number. Of course he had it already, had long since memorized it, but you didn’t know that. “No pressure or anything at all but. It can get lonely this time of year, and my dad always spoke highly of you. So if you ever just need someone to talk to or anything,” you sounded a little uncertain. Anxious, even. “I unfortunately adopted my dad’s horrible sleeping patterns so I should just be a text away.”

“Thank you. So much,” When Peter said your name, you blinked in surprise that quickly smoothed out. Right, Spider-Man knew your name, why wouldn’t he? A familiar voice snapped you and Peter back to reality and you waved excitedly.

“Did something happen? Why is Spider-Man walking with you?” You hesitated briefly and Peter stepped in.

“We ran into each other while I was swinging around. My patrol was ending anyways, and it wasn’t out of my way to walk with them.” Peter lied smoothly. It was completely out of his way and he didn’t want to mention the fact that you had almost been mugged, potentially worse. Selfishly, he wanted another chance to see you and he knew he wouldn’t get that opportunity if Happy knew what happened.

“He was great company,” you flashed Peter a grateful smile before you turned back to Happy.

“Thanks, Spider-Man. I've got it from here.” Happy looked at him and Peter nodded.

“I hope I'll hear from you, Spidey.” You said and Peter smiled. Peter said his goodbyes before he swung away, leaving you and Happy outside his apartment complex.

Peter barely locked his door and tore off his mask before tears filled his eyes. God he missed you. Missed Happy, Pepper, Morgan, all his friends. You may not remember him, but he hoped this could be the start of starting over with you. He had to have you in his life again, even if he was just a stranger to you right now.

-

Two weeks had passed since you had run into Spider-Man and you were feeling odd. You had trouble sleeping the night you got home and you assumed it was the stress from having the gun pulled out on you. Every night since then, you’ve had dreams that felt strangely like memories? A few of them included your friends MJ and Ned, but they all had some guy with a blurry face in them. His voice in the memories was a little distorted, but vaguely familiar at the same time.

You were doing some cleaning when you found an old sketchbook and you took a moment to go through a few of the pages, and you tilted your head when again, you saw the faceless guy from your dreams. How could you not remember him? You stopped when you saw a polaroid in the middle of your sketchbook, a picture of you and your father with the faceless guy in the middle. You slammed the book shut and tried to focus on controlling your breathing. You slid down against the wall, hands trembling.

Who was this person? How was he such a prominent part of your life but you couldn’t remember him? You buried your face in your hands and you barely processed the click of your door opening.

“Since MJ is coming over, what do you think about- kid?” Pepper's voice sounded through the room and you looked up. “Hey, what happened?” Pepper rushed over and took a seat beside you. Her hands cupped your face as her thumbs wiped away the tears you hadn’t even noticed beginning to fall.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something you’re just missing?” You nodded towards the sketchbook and Pepper cautiously grabbed it, and she flipped through the pages. She stopped when she saw the polaroid and looked at you. “I feel like I'm going crazy, Mom. I know who this is, I have to know. But I can't remember him. Ever since I ran into Spider-Man, I've been having these dreams. I think they’re memories and they all have him in them. I thought I was just making him up and then I saw this. I don't know what’s wrong with me, why can’t I remember him?”

“I don’t remember this either.” Pepper said and you looked at her, confused. “I remember taking this picture but him?” Pepper tapped the person in the middle. “Not a clue who he is. I can ask Happy if you want? Maybe he remembers?” You nodded before you curled into Pepper’s side. Your mom’s arms wrapped around you, and she leaned her head against yours. “We'll figure it out, somehow.”

You tried to have a normal rest of your night. You helped your mom cook dinner for everyone, you all played a game with Morgan before tucking her into bed with a bedtime story, and you, MJ, and your mom watched some mindless reality show before she went to bed. The night ended the same way, with her kissing your head and telling you not to stay up too late, and you stayed on the couch for a while longer before returning to your room. You and MJ laid on your bed and MJ let out a loud sigh.

“Okay, what’s up?” MJ asked and you turned towards her. “You’ve been acting off all night and you’re guarding your phone. I’m all for some quiet body doubling time, but you seem a little checked out.”

“It’s gonna sound crazy,” you said and MJ shrugged.

“I’m no stranger to crazy.” And so you told her. You told her how you ran into Spider-Man and how you have felt odd ever since. You told her about the weird dreams and how you feel like your memories are incomplete and you’re missing something. You showed her the sketchbook, the photo, and you took a deep breath.

“I reached out to Happy and he doesn’t remember him either, but he says he’ll try to look into things. I, uh, have my own plan if he’ll ever answer me.”

“Who?” MJ asked.

“Have you ever seen that… really strange building in the city?”

-

“Thanks for letting me in,” You said to Doctor Strange, Stephen he insisted, as you took a seat in his… was lair the right term? Office felt too informal but lair felt too menacing. Whatever.

“I must admit I was curious as to why you wanted to see me. I don’t think we’ve spoken since the funeral.” Stephen said and you nodded.

“Never had much of a reason to. We didn’t know each other before, and I was,” you trailed off, “occupied after. Between my sister and helping my mom with the company, and this new thing that’s occurred.” Stephen hummed in response and made a gesture for you to continue speaking. “I think some kind of magic has interfered with my life and altered my memories.” Stephen paused, genuinely looking like he was blue screening, and you began to speak again when he raised his hand.

“What exactly do you think has been altered?” Stephen asked, words coming out slowly, like he was still processing what he had heard.

“I think a person has been removed from my memories. Not just mine. Mine, my family’s, my friends. I have a feeling it’s bigger than that, and.” You trailed off.

“I would be the only one- well, not the only one capable- but I would be the only one to risk a spell of that caliber.” Your lips twitched upwards into a smirk and Stephen rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement on his face as well. “Is it just your memories that have changed?” You shook your head and pulled the photo from your bag and you held it out to him. Stephen took it carefully, studying it.

“I have drawings of him, but the faces are all blank. I can see him in my dreams, I can hear his voice.” Your voice cracked. “I don’t even know who this is, but with each day that passes, the pain of losing whoever he is gets worse.” Stephen’s eyes met yours and you continued. “I can’t sleep without him being involved. I keep getting these deja vu moments but they’re incomplete. Hell, even my camera roll on my phone is messed up. Every picture or video he’s in? His face is blurry and his voice is distorted. Every night it gets worse. Like my brain wants me to remember, but I can’t.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You can’t cry in front of the wizard, that would be so embarrassing.

“Did something specific trigger this? When did you notice your memories had been affected?” Stephen asked and you sighed.

“After I ran into Spider-Man two weeks ago. I was walking to meet Happy, and some guys had cornered me. Spider-Man saved me and from that night on, I feel like my brain has been scrambled.” Stephen’s eyes widened a fraction. “You’re missing something too, aren’t you?” Your question came out more as a statement and Stephen stood. You quickly stood and when Stephen saw you stand, he walked out of the room and down the hall to another room. This room was darker, much more lair-ish, filled with books and other mystical looking items. Stephen’s strangely sentient cape fluttered over, whipping around you in some oddly cute form of greeting? before it flew over to Stephen and settled on his shoulders.

“I’m fuzzy on the details, but I remember seeing Spider-Man recently. We were fighting over some containment box that had a powerful spell in it. Then suddenly I was in the city, near the Statue of Liberty. Something big was happening and I performed some spell to help Spider-Man and I don’t remember anything after. Suddenly I was home and I guess I never looked further into it.” Stephen pulled a book from a shelf and flipped it open, rapidly scanning the pages until he landed on it. “This was the spell I had to contain.” As Stephen told you about the basics of the spell, your heart ached. What could have happened to Spider-Man that made him need a memory erasing spell?

“Then Spider-Man must have asked you to do another memory erasing spell. Hiding his identity?”

“More like erasing it. The universe as we knew it was breaking, the multiverse is real. And it almost became a real threat to our universe. Whatever I did fixed it. The multiverse is safe, but-”

“Now no one remembers who our hero really is,” you said. “I’m guessing there’s no way to counteract the spell.”

“No safe way to do it, even if we discovered who Spider-Man is. If it even could be reversed, the threat would return. These people were after Spider-Man, whoever he is. If the spell was reversed, those same people could very well slip through and become a problem all over again. Likely worse than before.”

“Shit. There’s no winning, is there? He just has to exist for the rest of his life, alone.”

“He may be alone, but it is odd that your memories are seemingly trying to come back. Has anyone else you’ve told experienced anything similar?” You shook your head. “He has you, then.” Stephen made eye contact with you. “Memory altering spells like this are unpredictable at best. For whatever reason, your brain is trying to make the connections. And from what I know about your family, if you are anything like your father, you are the best person to figure this out. I’m happy to assist however I can, but you, kid? You’re Spider-Man’s best chance at having anyone remember him again.”

-

It had been a few days since Peter had last contacted you. He didn’t text you often, scared to bother you. You always responded whenever he did reach out, but Peter hesitated when it came to you. Selfishly, he wanted to be in your life again. But he was terrified he would only hurt you again. That’s what he seemed best at and he couldn’t put you through that pain again. It’s been about three weeks since your first run-in and Peter hadn’t seen you in person again. He was starting to think it was a sign that he didn’t deserve to be in your life anymore.

It was raining as he came home from patrol that night. His apartment complex was in sight and he fumbled when he saw you outside of his building. Peter perched on a lamp post near you and called your name, and you jumped when you heard him.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” You held a hand to your chest when you saw him, and Peter winced.

“Sorry, sorry! What are you doing out here?” Peter hopped down to stand in front of you. God, you were drenched. Your hair laid flat, soaked from the storm and Peter looked around. “Actually, let’s not have this conversation outside. You’re gonna get sick and your mom would kill me.” Peter opened an arm for you. “I need you to hold onto me.”

“Hold onto you?”

“I can’t exactly walk through the front door,” Peter gestured to himself.

“Right. Sorry.” You walked over to him and Peter wrapped an arm around you, lifting you just enough to support you before he shot a web towards his fire escape. You yelped as you clung to him and Peter carefully set you down once he was steady on the fire escape. Peter slid his window open and carefully helped you in before he climbed through, shutting the window behind him. Peter felt self conscious as you looked around the minimally decorated apartment. Peter didn’t have the money for anything beyond the essentials, and he knew his apartment looked more like a crash pad than a home.

“Do you have, like, towels or anything? I don’t want to,” you trailed off, and Peter sprung into action.

“Right! Sorry. Towels are in the bathroom. I’ll grab you one real quick.” Peter rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. “Here, let me grab you something dry to change into.” Peter left the bathroom and walked towards his closet in the hall. He grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants and handed them to you. You thanked Peter before you disappeared into the bathroom and Peter looked around. He could, shit. He could at least get you a glass of water, right? Peter walked to the kitchen and grabbed two cups, filling them both with ice and water. God, why did he feel so sick? It was you. He knows you, he loves you. You had never judged him before, why would you now?

Peter had just set up the glasses when you came out of the bathroom. He swore his heart skipped a few beats when he saw you in his sweatshirt, and you played with the end of the sleeve.

“I, uh, left my clothes in your shower. Thanks for these,” you said and Peter nodded. God Peter was so glad he had tidied up this morning.

“No problem. It’s not much but make yourself at home. Should’ve dropped by tomorrow, tomorrow is grocery day and I could’ve had more for you,” Peter said and you shook your head as you sat on the edge of his bed. Peter stood by the other edge of the bed and you tilted your head.

“Keeping the suit on? Isn’t it a little wet?” Peter’s eyes widened and he rushed to his closet to change, and he barely heard your faint huff of laughter. Peter stared at himself in the mirror, mask still on his face after he had changed. He didn’t know what to do. Not like revealing his identity would change anything, but he felt safer behind the mask. With a sigh, he left the bathroom and your smile fell to a frown when you saw the mask. “Can we talk, Spidey?” Peter took a seat beside you and you both turned to face each other. Your gaze was determined, hopeful, and anxious all at the same time and Peter couldn’t tell if he wanted to look into your eyes forever or look away from the emotion in them.

“The floor is yours,” Peter said and you let out a breath.

“I may sound batshit insane, so please. Just listen to me until I’m done.” You said and Peter nodded. After a moment, you began to speak. “I know who you are.” Peter swore his heart stopped for a beat or two. “Or I did at least. You knew me, my family, my friends. Our friends, I guess I should say. But something happened and now no one knows you. Doctor Strange did some kind of spell for whatever saving the multiverse reason, and everyone forgot about you. The man behind Spider-Man.” Your eyes began to water and Peter wanted to reach out, to hold you close. But he was frozen.

“Ever since we ran into each other those weeks ago, I’ve been having these dreams. Memories, more like, but there was something missing in them. You. I could see the memories, I could hear your voice and see you. But I couldn’t remember who the voice belonged to. I couldn’t see the face, it was all blurry and distorted. I have a picture of us with my dad, I have countless videos and pictures in my camera roll; all of them having a person with a blurry face and distorted voice. For three weeks, you’ve been on my mind, awake or not. I’ve spent the last five days trying to find you, trying to figure out anything about you. Every file I found, redacted. Eventually, I just tracked your usual patrol route and your response time to local crimes and hoped I would stumble across you. I’d been walking around for at least two hours to find you, because somehow. I just know you’re the person I’m missing.” Your hands reached out and settled on Peter’s shoulders, and it took all of Peter’s restraint not to melt into your touch as he whispered your name. “Can I…?” You tapped the side of Peter’s neck and he nodded.

You moved slowly, as if you’d hurt him, as your hands traveled. You stuck your thumbs under the mask and you looked at Peter. Only when he nodded did you start to pull the mask off. The seconds it took you to pull the mask off felt like hours to Peter, and you let the mask fall beside you as you studied Peter. You reached out towards him, motions careful as you moved, and you rested one of your hands on his cheek. Peter felt the first tear slip and then you blinked.

It was like Peter was seeing an entirely new person again. Your eyes flashed with a million different emotions until they settled on recognition. Your eyes were wide and your own eyes began to fill up with tears.

“Peter?” You whispered and the dam broke. Peter let out a choked sob as he nodded and you threw yourself into his arms, clinging to him just as quickly as he clung to you. “Oh my god, Peter.” One of your hands tangled in his hair, the other hand gripped the material of his shirt like a vice. You moved back just enough to look at him, and Peter let out a teary laugh as his forehead rested against your own.

“I missed you so much.” Tears were falling from Peter’s cheeks and you somehow did the impossible by pulling Peter even closer to you. “How, how do you?”

“I don’t know,” You laughed in between your cries. “I don’t know how but oh my god, Peter.” You pulled back, his brown eyes meeting your own, and you smiled at him. So happy, so familiar, so full of love. Peter cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips, which you happily returned.

You remembered him. Peter wasn’t entirely alone anymore. He had you. The love of his life, one of his best friends. When you broke apart, you cupped Peter’s face in your hands and wiped his tears away with your thumbs. “I thought I’d be alone forever. That no one would ever remember me. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t make myself talk to anyone new because all I do is get people hurt and-”

“Shhh, that’s not true. Not true at all.” You raked your fingers through his hair and Peter slumped into you. “I told you, you’d have me forever. Just took a little while for me to find you again.” You kissed Peter’s head and ran one hand up and down his back, the other gently working out the tangles in his hair. Peter’s breathing began to steady and he closed his eyes. For the first time in what felt like ages, he was content.

“What’s gonna happen now?” Peter asked and you hummed.

“First, you’re gonna rest. Your dark circles could rival my own,” you teased and Peter huffed in response, but a smile still lit up his face. “I told my mom I would be out tonight, so tomorrow morning, we’ll decide what our next steps are. I know there’s a few people who would like to meet you again, but if you’re not ready, we’ll wait.”

“I want to see them again. I’ve missed everyone so much, but I don’t know if I’m ready.” Peter trailed off. “I’m really scared.” Peter admitted. “I’m scared when I see them again, they won’t want to get to know me again. I’m scared I’ll wake up and this will all be a fluke; you’ll have forgotten me and I’ll be alone all over again.” Peter’s grip on you tightened and you continued to comb through his hair, hoping to soothe him.

“They’re your best friends, Peter. They’ll love you.” Peter was fully laying against you at this point, and you shifted so you could lean back as well. “I know my mom will too, and Morgan will be so happy to have a big brother again. But you’re in control, okay? You get to choose when we meet, who we meet.” Peter let out a shaky breath as he buried his face in your neck, and you closed your eyes. “Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

“I love you.” Peter pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “So much.”

“I love you even more.” And for the first time in weeks, you both fell into a dreamless sleep. The next afternoon, you and Peter stood outside your family's cabin. Your hand held Peter's and he squeezed your hand.

You had told your mom you were bringing company over, but you had been vague about the details. Kind of hard to explain everything over a phone call, you rationalized to Peter. You had Peter's bag on your back, with enough clothes to last him a few days, and his suit just in case. Neither of you seemed fond of the idea of separating now that you finally had each other again and if your mom didn't understand, you were willing to stay with Peter at a hotel because 'I love you, Peter, but this apartment is not it. Maybe I can buy you out of your lease,' you had said with a laugh but you were half joking. Whatever your next move ended up being, you'd do it together.

With one final nod, you walked inside with Peter, ready to re-introduce him to your family; ready for him to be a part of your family again.

[blueysobssesions]

His last moments with you

Angst, Character death

Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Miguel O' Hara, Miles Morales, Peter B Parker, Gwen Stacy

Hobie Brown

His last moment with you, was him pulling you from the backstage, taking you to the stage while the band played their instruments. Kissing you right there, with his fans watching the two of you. You can hear the lousy screams from the crowd as he held you close, pulling away. "H-hobie..." "Shh, jus' look at me, luv" You locked eyes with Hobie, his forehead touching yours saying "I love ya'"Seems like most of the crowd heard what he said, they were screaming. You were flustered, wanting to go back to the backstage but, he placed a kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

The concert wasn't the same when Hobie took a break... over a month when the 'event' happened.

Pavitr Prabhakar

His last moments with you were after the graduation of the both of you, you two were excited at that moment. 3...2...1! the countdown finished, then everybody started to toss their caps in the air, celebrating the completion of the journey. As the caps fell back down, you locked eyes with Pavitr, leaning into a kiss. The world seemed to fade away in that moment, and all you could feel was the warmth of his lips against yours. Everyone looked at the both of you in awe, one of your bestfriend didn't hesitate to take a picture. "Everyone's looking at us" "Do you think that I care?" he said before pecking your lips.

It was a bittersweet goodbye, this would be the last time you would be together.

Miguel O' Hara

His last moment with you was, at the bedroom, cuddled up together. It was his first proper sleep. You watched as him peacefully drifted off, his breathing steady and his face relaxed. Your fingers slowly stroking his soft hair, while your other hand held his hand. You were happt to finally see him sleep properly, with how much he's focused and stressed... he couldn't sleep. As a wife of his, you need to take care of him and ensure he gets the rest he deserves. 

But now, he's taking care of himself... the word 'sleep' now was nothing to him.

Miles Morales

His last moments with you was having a dinner with you and his parents. Rio already liked you when you started to teach Miles spanish, and you helping jeff solve some crimes here and there. Miles couldn't help but smile at this. Rio was the one who made you come over and have dinner, and of course you agreed. He couldn't help but be flustered when you talked about him to them. "He did great at spanish class" you smiled, before eating your food. "Oh, really? Well, that's indeed great! What did he get?" "I think miles should answer that" you giggled. They turned their head towards them, which miles flinched. "u-uh, yeah... I got an A plus" he said nervously. Rio gasped, impressed "Wow, really! That's great!" "Good job, miles" they said. "Well, Y/n helped me with it. You guys should thank Y/n too" Miles smiled at you, how can he be lucky? You smiled back and blushed a little bit.

And now here... Rio and Jeff comforting their son... holding his phone, the picture of the both of you showing in the screen.

Peter B. Parker

His last moments with you is the both of you danicing in the living room while music plays in the backround. You began to move to the beat, leading him in a slow dance. As the both of you moved together, you both found lost in the moment, forgetting the world outside your own four walls. It was just the two of you, surrounded by love and music. The song ended and you both stood still for a moment before breaking apart and looking at each other with a smile on your face. "I love you," he said as he pulled you into his arms. "I love you too," you replied as he kissed your forehead.

It was the first and last dance for him

Gwen Stacy

Her last moments with you is hanging out with the others for the first time. Going on a picnic with Hobie, Pavitr, You, Gwen, Miles, Peni and Peter with mayday. As the sun set on that memorable day, laughter filled the air as you all bonded. It was a beautiful moment for everyone, the two of you watching the sunset while the others chatter. Your head on her shoulder as you both shared a comfortable silence. 

Knowing that it would be your last moments with all of them.

[dorotheataylor]

Hugs and kisses

Pairing- Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Summary- Sometimes even the strongest ones need comfort and Peter finds it in your arms.

Warnings- none literally, this is just a soft fic coz peter deserves all the love and hugs in the world, my poor english is a warning tho :’)

Word Count- 687

A/N- I thought of this while listening to ‘Sweet Nothing’ by Taylor Swift and here it is. Also I changed fandoms lol. dw i still write for harry potter but i’ll write for marvel too now. And this can be read for any peter but I imagined tasm peter here :3 Hope y’all like this <3

You were about to get into bed, after having done your nighttime skincare and changing into your pyjamas, when you heard soft knocks on your window.

You went over to open it, knowing it was Peter. Whenever he visited you after his night patrols, it was always near this time. You would go on about your day while he told about his and then went to sleep together while snuggled close to each other.

Today it seemed a little different. Because when you moved the curtains to get a look at him, his expressions were different from what they always were. Like he was upset about something.

You quickly unlatched your window and let him inside. You turned to face him and furrowed your eyebrows when he didn’t meet your eyes.

Something was definitely up.

“Peter, love, is everything okay?” you said softly, not wanting him to break. “You know you can tell me anything,” you start, wanting to break the silence, but he flinches at your voice. you let out a shaky exhale and step forward, reaching a hand up, slowly, like approaching a skittish animal, to press your palm to his cheek. he unconsciously chases the warmth, his hair parting to reveal his eyes, sadder than you’ve ever seen them. your heart lurches for him. “oh, Peter.”

He leaned in your touch and sighed in content. Slowly you lifted your other hand to cup both his cheeks while he looked on the verge of tears.

“I- I just needed to see you. He- he said that,” Peter couldn’t even bring himself to properly say that. After that random bad guy he had just fought told him he had attacked you, he needed to make sure you were okay.

“It’s okay, Peter. I’m here.” You said, voice still soft as you start to caress his cheek with your thumb.

Peter couldn’t keep it in anymore, as he immediately buried his face in your neck and held you tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop your heart from breaking after seeing him in such a state. The way he sounded, the way you could feel his tears on your neck, you couldn’t help but shed some tears as well as you spoke soothing words to him.

Moments like these brought comfort to Peter. Him in your arms, you holding him tightly, speaking softly and trying to comfort him, he sometimes wonders what he has done to deserve this, to deserve you. Your arms were his go to place when things got hard, being spiderman wasn’t easy. And it felt great that you out of all people knew about him and still loved the real him.

Both of you stayed in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity, with none of you wanting to let go of each other. But you didn’t mind it, Peter deserved all your love and affection.

After few moments, you slowly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence you both were in, “lets get you changed so that we can cuddle in bed. Sounds good?”

He seemed hesitant to let you go, but he loosened his grip and pulled away to look you in the eye, arms still loosely wound around your waist. He seemed almost meek like this—to the point it almost felt like you’re not looking at the strongest. Right now, it kinda just feels like you’re looking at a man—a man who has the entire weight of the New York on his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, his voice still wavering. “You- You’re everything. God I love you so much.”

You smiled gently at him as you cupped his cheek again, he kissed your palm, and you said, “I love you too, Peter. More than words can express.”

With that, Peter cupped your face and brought his lips onto yours, pouring all his love, affection, fears and everything he felt for you into it. You kissed him back with same passion, sealing a promise of never leaving him into this kiss.

Because maybe in that moment, this was all you both needed.

[darling-im-wonderstruck]

you’re always gonna be mine ✧

request : “hello! could you please write something where peter is telling reader how he no longer remembers when he last called reader by her name bc he’s constantly using pet names and it’s all about young love and it’s just 🥺”

synopsis : late nights with peter never failed to put your heart at ease at the end of each long day. all your worries and doubts seem to disappear in his presence, including your fears about first loves (and first heartbreaks).

pairing : peter parker x reader

wc : 772

warnings : nothing worth warning ! mostly fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst if you squint ! + normal sized text below !

a/n : hii <3 it’s been so longgggg, i hope this fic makes you smile as much as it did for me ! would love to thank @strawberrystarcake, my beloved sister for the summary <;3 this and @parkerpeter24 + @toms-gf for encouraging me throughout the process and giving me their opinions (love you guyss) 💞 this was a request from my old blog that i only ended up writing now :’)

“random thought, but i honestly don’t remember when i started calling you babe instead of your name.” peter blurts out, seemingly out of nowhere.

it was late at night, you two were all snuggled up in bed, your head rested atop his chest, just about to take a well deserved good night’s rest. right now, he’s unbelievably adorable though. his eyes were halfway closed, his heartbeat steady, and he sported a soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but return.

you two were basically tangled together, your right hand holding his right, your left gently playing with his hair.

“mm, i can relate. though, i do prefer using lovebug for you.” you smile, removing your hand from his hair and focusing your attention on playing with his hands instead.

“spiders aren’t technically bugs though, they’re arachnids.” he says, earning an eye roll from you.

“shut up.” you chuckled, causing his already present smile to widen.

“but, in all seriousness, i do love that pet name.”

 “in all seriousness, i’m pretty sure that you’ll love anything i say.” you half joke, though, it’s honestly somewhat true.

“you’re right. it’s sort of concerning at this point.” he laughs softly. “wait a sec… is that my shirt?”

“you mean our shirt? yes.” you respond, a proud look on your face.

“well, it looks lovely on you, way better than it does on me.” he looks at you with pure admiration.

moments with peter like this were rare, and so you treasured them. moments of relaxation and peace, it seemed as if the world had gotten in the way of you and peter up until this point.

and you were scared.

scared that, it was some sort of sign. people say young love’s a loss or a lesson for a reason. but somewhere in you, you knew (hoped) that you two would be the exception. but being like this, with peter was what took all your doubt away, and where the doubt was, it was replaced with all the love you could ever give and hope for.

this, is where you always wanted to be. this is what you always wanted to feel.

a moment of silence followed, comfortable silence. just enjoying each other’s presense. god, you loved this.

“i love you.” you say, breaking the silence.

peter leans in, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he whispers, “i love you too. more than i could ever express with words.”

“you’re actually perfect.” you smile, gently tapping the tip of his nose, immediately causing a flush of bright pink to spread throughout his face. “my everything.” you add.

“you, my princess, are my entire world.” 

you look down, causing a look of concern on peter’s face, “do you ever get scared?” you sigh, looking up, straight into his eyes.

“scared of…?”

“i dont know, just, this, all of this, going away?” you mumbled softly, but peter heard you, and most importantly, he understood you.

“well, if i’m being honest? yes. sometimes i am scared. i’m afraid that we’ll lose what we have because i feel like i have everything i need, here, with me, and the thought of losing it all? terrifying. but, i think that we’re,,, timeless in a way.”

“timeless?”

 “timeless. i almost feel like, no matter what happens, we’re intertwined. i like to think that, at least. like, no matter what timeline, no matter how many years back or in the future, no matter the universe,” he chuckles softly, “you’re still mine and i’m still yours. i dont think that any possible version of me wouldn’t have fallen for you and i think you still wouldve fallen for me too. i mean, who wouldnt?” you giggled at that, softly hitting his arm.

“i guess those thoughts give me comfort, assurance, almost. ‘cause it tells me that, this,” he tightens his grip on your hands, “what we have, is something unbreakable and meant to be. besides, i’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon.” he shoots you a wink, which, you honestly found cute.

“y’know what? i don’t think i have much to worry about anymore.” you say slowly, looking up from peter’s chest to get a look of his face. the sight of his messy curls and skin illuminated by the moonlight from your window made your heart melt.

“oh?” he grins, making eye contact with you. “yeah, not when i have you. you always know what to say. and… you’re right, you still would’ve turned my head.”

a/n : thank you for reading loves ! i don’t allow any reposting if my work here, or on any other platforms. reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated, luv you all ! requests are open xx

tagging a few of my mutuals ! (hope you guys don’t mind <3 i wont be tagging you guys every time tho ! just for now bc i dont really have a taglist yet) : @live-laugh-lovejoy @cagethemunson @saturnpeter@tomsholland2412 @jesslockwood @maraistookmyheart

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Okay I see your "if Hobie and Noir meet they would be besties and punch nazis together" and I totally agree with that! But also consider:

Hobie is Spider Noir's biggest fanboy!

Like in the comics he's like a HUGE Gwen Stacy stan and he's such a goofy little dork about it. In ATSV him and Gwen's relationship is more like chill friends, and I'm okay with that. But I think it be so funny that when Hobie was recruted into Spiderverse society and Miguel was showing him all the other universes with the different Spiderman variants he pauses by the computer screen with that one gritty black and white universe cuz he just saw some guy in a fedora and trench coat PUNCH A FUCKING NAZI!!! WHO IS THAT GUY?!?! HE'S SO COOL!!!

He asks Miguel a million and one question about the guy and when the old grump annoyingly shoos him away he asks Peter as he briefly met him during that one incident in Miles is dimension. When that still isn't enough he asks Lyla to tell him everything she knows on Noir. Now obviously Lyla has no obligation to do this but she's also never seen Hobie this giddy and excited over something other then music. Its adorable, he's almost like a little kid wanting to know everything about their favorite cartoon. Also she low key likes to annoy Miguel and Hobie's rebellious spirit that gets under her straight laced boss is skin which is hilarious.

You know when Gwen first met Hobie she was a bit intimated cuz he just had that "too cool" vibe about him. But as soon as she mentions that she has worked with other Spider people before, which includes Noir, he did a whole 180 and became a complete dork!

Hobie: Get out, you actually met him! 🤩

Gwen: Uh, yeah?

Hobie: How was he like? What did he say? Did he talk about fascist corruption that not only plagued the system back then but even now as well? Was he super cool during the fight?! 😃🤩💫😻

Gwen: ..........He was nice.

Hobie: That's so rad! ✨️🤟🤩

I also feel like, aside from Miles, Gwen keeps in contact with the other Spider peeps from the first movie and tried to recruit them into the Spider society but obviously Noir and Porker didn't join. Porker because he’s a cartoon that follows "toon logic" and Miguel's ideologies are too serious for his taste. And Noir because, and I quote: "The last I heard of a secret society designed to 'keep the peace for the greater good of humanity at any cost' a whole world war came about it. I know fascism when I see it, kid."

Gwen relays that message to Hobie when explaining why Noir isn't joining and Hobie's response to that is: "He gets it! He just like me fr! 😭💕"

I think it be really cute that in the next movie when they finally meet Hobie is kinda awkward and shy. Like this guy has never respected an adult in his life (at least not any that didn’t deserve the disrespect) and with Noir his all like "Hello sir" "How are you sir" "It's very nice to meet you sir!" And Noir is actually just a really nice guy if a little broody but he's heard so much about this kid from Gwen and how much of a good friend he's been to her so Noir already likes him on principle.

Hobie: Uh Mr. Noir-- Parker, sir! It is such an honor to meet you! The work you do in your universe is amazing and I hope to learn more while working alongside you however briefly.

Noir: Ah, Peter is just fine really, or Noir if it gets to confusing. No need to be so formal, we're all on equal footing here. I've heard a lot about you and your world as well from Gwen. Although it does sadden me that such a young man has to take on the burden of saving the world from such a corrupt society yet again, you're going about it quite well. War is hard and ugly and violent but you are amazingly brave to be able to stand up for what is right in the face of it all. If anybody is honored here it is me, for being able to meet such a remarkable young man like you. And knowing that my friends have made such honorable allies in the midst of all this chaos.

Hobie, externally: Yeah, it's whatevs 😎

Hobie, internally: Dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry YOURE GUNNA LOOK SO UNCOOL IF YOU CRY IN FRONT OF HIM NOW 😭💕😭💕😭

I just think it be really cute if they had a wholesome father-son sort of relationship where they shit talk corrupt government systems and punch fascists together. You know, regular father-son bonding!

(Also I think that's another reason Miguel didn't invite Spider Noir to the Spiderverse, cuz he knew that both of these menaces together would cause a bigger headache than its worth 🤣🤣🤣)

[buckyseddie]

always hold you

pairings — tasm!peter parker x bff/gf!fem!reader

summary — in which, she needs her boyfriend's support more than anything else, after another particularly bad fight with her father.

word count — 2.6k.

warnings — a little bit of angst, use of pet-names [dove, sweetheart, darling, love, bug], reader calls peter pete, lots of fluff and this is basically just a hurt/comfort fic, protective/soft!peter, this is also sort of similar to my other peter fic (take as a part two that one), peter comforting reader, mentions of the reader's low self-esteem issues and it being explained a bit more, both physical and emotional abuse (manipulation and gaslighting, but not from peter), hugs and cuddles, forehead kisses, peter just taking care of the reader and showing her the love that her family refuses to do, gwen is in here for a second and being the comforting platonic best friend that she is to reader, peter comes off as a little harsh and scares reader a little bit but he makes up for it in the end.

notes — hi! so, this is really more of a vent fic. i know i've written in the past about dealing w/ a toxic family member and how i really enjoyed writing fics similar to my experiences with my favorite comfort characters to comfort the reader because that would usually help me deal with everything. but recently, the abuse that me, my mom, and my brother have been experiencing has become a lot more complicated and traumatizing for me to deal with. and things have only gotten worse. so, i figured i'd do another comforting fic like the other peter fic i wrote about going through that said abuse. i really just feel that it's important to not hide my true feelings and act like everything's fine behind a screen and i just want to be able to talk about this topic a lot more (especially in my writing), because it's so serious and not nearly talked about enough. but, nonetheless, if there's anyone out there that sees this and is a victim of abuse (whether it's emotional/mental or physical abuse, or both) please don't feel obligated to read this. i really don't want to trigger or upset anyone who's dealing with this situation in a very heavy and overwhelming way. just remember though, no matter what anyone says or does to you, you ARE strong and deserve the entire world. i love you all <3. anyways, i hope this makes up for the lack of posting anything (i've been really struggling with a lot, but i'm trying!). gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

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IT'S OBVIOUS NOW THAT SHE was stupid to think that he could change. it was even more stupid of her to go back to that apartment.

but, she's always been one to see the best in people — in her case, it's come to bite her in the ass.

even now, as she awaits her boyfriend to return home from his nightly patrol around the city, [y/n] knows that she should've known better.

she trembles as she sits on their shared bed, one of her legs bouncing anxiously — the thought of how peter will react to her foolish decision and the outcome from it is stressing her out, beyond words.

after how he responded the first time he found out about the truth about her father's cruelty and what she'd had to go through, she's worried of how he will react this time — it took almost everything in him to not confront her father, when he first found out.

she abruptly jumps when she hears the front door of the apartment shut softly.

a shaky breath leaves her lips, wondering if it's too late to try to hide the marks on her face and body.

but, when she hears him call out her name from the living room, she knows that it's too late — there's nothing she can do now to hide this.

and even if she wanted to for a split second, she promised peter she'd never lie to him again — after the last time, they promised each other that they'd never hide anything from the other again.

so, with another shaky breath, [y/n] sighs and hesitantly pulls the bedroom door open.

she keeps her head down, her hair falling around her face and covering the marks as she walks out and into the living room.

"sweetheart..." peter's voice trails off, eyes wide with shock and worry.

her breath catches in her throat as soon as she finally looks up at her boyfriend and sees the intense, protective look in his eyes.

"i—i'm sorry, peter." she whispers, voice too raspy to get any louder.

a flash of anger fills his eyes. "please... tell me that you didn't go back to him!" he exclaims in a quieter tone of voice as he pinches the corner of his eyes.

[y/n] flinches at the amount of frustration in his voice.

"peter, i—i'm sorry... " her voice trembles, guilt and regret quickly filling her — she just feels so stupid.

peter sighs, regretting taking his anger out on her.

his eyes immediately soften. "sweetheart, i'm sorry." he murmurs, before starting to walk over to her.

but, before he can reach her, she flinches and winces.

he stops short, freezing in place. more guilt fills him as he realizes that in this moment, she's scared of him.

"look... i—i know that i shouldn't have gone back," she whispers, tears clouding her eyes as she remembers the anger and hatred in her father's eyes.

peter's silent for a moment, waiting and giving her time to explain more — if she's able to.

"i'm... i'm so stupid, peter." she whispers, too ashamed to talk any louder.

peter's eyes widen in shock, not expecting that statement to come out of her mouth. "w—what? darling, that's not true."

this time, a tear falls down her cheek. "yes, i am. peter, who's stupid enough to choose to believe that their abusive, monster-of-a-father can change? me — it's me!"

the rambling and the self-loathing words coming out of his girlfriend's mouth becomes incredibly clear to peter as he walks over to her.

this time now, he doesn't hesitate to pull her into his chest as her voice becomes more trembling and wavering, "this is on me — it's my fault."

"it's okay now, love. don't blame yourself." he murmurs as she stops holding herself back and breaks into breathless sobs into his chest.

after a while, her crying slows and quiets down with her tears now dried on her cheeks.

she faces him and takes in a deep, calming breath as he wipes away the remaining tears away and looks over her bruises more intensely.

"i wanna kill him for doing this to you — again." the venom in his tone sends shivers through her spine — knowing what he would do to protect her comforts her.

but, on the other hand, she also knows that hurting her father isn't going to do anything for them or fix anything.

"no, peter. i know you don't mean that." she murmurs seriously.

an angry frown places itself over his lips. "no, i do."

she sighs. "okay, maybe you do. but, it won't fix anything and we both know that," she says, moving one of her fingers up to smooth out the crease in between his very furrowed eyebrows.

"it's okay now — i'm okay." she whispers seriously, grabbing his hand and rubbing soothing circles over his thumb.

you'd think from how she's comforting him that peter was the one that got hurt, not her — that's just how she is; she always finds herself taking care of everyone else, when she really should be taking care of herself.

maybe that's why they're such a good pair — while they're taking care of everyone else and their loved ones, they can trust the other to take care of the other.

"that's the thing, love. it's not okay! you shouldn't have to go out of your way to avoid him, just to protect yourself." he exclaims, ripping his hand out of hers and this time pacing around the living room with his hand now gripping his hair in frustration.

she sighs, frowning — this is exactly why she didn't want to tell him because she hates worrying him like this.

"it may not be fair, but if it's what i have to do to protect myself, then that's what i'll do — i should've kept doing that, instead of being an idiot to believe he'd change." she admits, shrugging, trying to play this all off, as if it's not that big of a deal.

"don't say that — don't do that!" he abruptly yells, turning around to face her defensively.

she flinches — once again — at the volume of his voice. "don't do what?" she asks meekly, her voice too soft.

he sighs in regret. "i'm sorry. i'm not trying to scare you." his eyes are downcast at the floor, before he looks up again, the guilt clear in his irises this time.

"it's okay, peter." she gulps, berating herself for some part of her being afraid of him — after all, she has no reason to fear him because he'd never intentionally hurt her.

"it's not. i shouldn't have gotten so angry — i'm not mad at you, i promise," he says in a much more quiet voice, sighing as he sees that look in her eyes — the one that she always has when she feels like a burden and feels like she should be apologizing.

"sweetheart, don't even think about apologizing. none of this is your fault."

[y/n] sighs in exasperation. "maybe it is. i'm the one that is always making a fool out of myself by believing in the best of everyone."

she sighs when a flash of irritation shows in his eyes. "what?" he whispers, his eyebrows furrowing together.

she takes in another breath when he walks over to her and hesitantly places his hands over her cheeks.

[y/n] sighs again.

"this isn't your fault, love. know that," he murmurs, his eyes searching hers for some kind of understanding. "please, tell me that you know that."

she sighs again, noticing the tears filling his eyes — it becomes incredibly clear to her how much the man in front of her cares about her.

"peter... " her own eyes fill with tears, even spilling to her cheeks.

without another thought, he gently wipes away her tears. "promise me that you understand me."

she sighs again. "y—yes, i understand," she murmurs, hating the hope that fills his eyes. "but, i just don't believe it."

he opens his mouth to object, but she interrupts him before he has the chance to say something, "i want to. but, i can't just shut off the way i feel — i was raised the way i was and with the trauma i have gotten along the way, i can't just forget it."

more tears fills his eyes, before he moves incredibly closer to her and brings her close to kiss her forehead. "knowing you want to believe it is good enough for me."

when he pulls away from her he smiles warmly at her. "let's go cuddle now, yeah?"

the softness in his voice makes her smile. "sounds like a plan, pete." she murmurs with a nod and leads him to their shared room.

once they're inside of their bedroom, [y/n] walks over to their shared bathroom, to change into her set of pajamas she set aside earlier in the day, after she had just gotten back from her father's home — she used to call it her home, but that all changed once her once-very-close relationship with her father changed.

after she changes and brushes her hair and teeth, she takes in a deep breath and tries to mentally prepare herself for the rest of the night.

but, when she shuts off the light and opens the door, she comes to realize that the bedroom is empty.

she walks out of the bathroom and looks around, her eyebrows quickly knitting together in confusion.

and just as she's about to call out her boyfriend's name, she hears hushed voices outside of the room.

with much more confusion filling her body, she slowly walks out of their room and into the living room, only to see peter standing at the door, talking at the door in a hushed voice.

"pete? is everything okay?" she asks as she walks up from behind him.

he jumps a little in surprise, before motioning towards the door.

the blond hair of their current guest surprises her.

"oh, gwen. hi." she greets her best friend and then her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him with her chin resting on his shoulder.

"what are you doing here?"

gwen shrugs. "i just wanted to check up on you — your dad called me, yelling at me because he thought that you'd left to go hide at my apartment."

the words that come out of one of her best friends' mouth shakes [y/n] to her very core — anytime she hears anything about her father, she gets easily nervous and scared.

in a matter of seconds, [y/n] slowly pulls away from her boyfriend's body.

she knows that she should try to pretend everything's fine and as if her friend's words don't affect her, but she can't help it.

if she had a few more seconds, she'd probably fall into a state of mind where she'd completely shut down.

but, when a light touch to her shoulder by peter shakes her out of her daze, she sighs and nervously finds her boyfriend's eyes on her.

"what's going on, guys? did something happen?" gwen asks worriedly after seeing the tense look on [y/n]'s face.

peter doesn't speak. he doesn't even look away from his girlfriend — his eyes simply say that the decision is all hers.

despite the fact that him and gwen are pretty close friends, he's always respected [y/n]'s choices.

with a sigh, [y/n] turns to gwen. "i kind of had a run in with my dad earlier."

as she hears that statement, gwen begins to notice the bruises on her best friend's face.

she frowns. "are you okay?" she asks, but after a moment, she groans and rolls her eyes at herself.

"i'm sorry. that was insensitive — of course you're not okay."

[y/n] laughs, despite the seriousness of the situation. "it's okay."

gwen gives her a pointed look, not believing for one moment that what she asked was okay.

"really, gwen," she says, finding some courage inside of her. "i'm probably not okay. but... " she trails off, suddenly feeling like everything is going to be okay with the ones that truly love her by her side.

"for the first time, i think i'm going to be okay — that everything will be okay." she says confidently, moving even closer to peter and practically burying herself into his arms.

gwen smiles. "good. i'm glad."

—————

AFTER A LITTLE BIT MORE of talking, they all finally say their goodbyes and peter shuts the door gently.

they move over to the couch, peter covering them — mostly [y/n] — with one of the fuzzy throw blankets that was lying over the front of the couch.

"you doing okay?" he asks softly as she lays her face into his neck.

she smiles, feeling reassured for the first time.

she lifts her head back up to look at him.

"i know going back was stupid. i do—" before she can continue, he interrupts her with guilt evident in his brown eyes. —"i'm sorry, bug. for how angry i got earlier."

she tilts her head in confusion. "what do you mean?"

"i shouldn't have gotten upset with you. and i'm sorry for startling you. i was just worried." he murmurs seriously, frowning at her confusion.

"i just... every time i think about your dad being near you or hurting you, well, it drives me crazy, sweetheart." he says, trying to ignore the anger in his voice every time he thinks about the type of person his girlfriend's father is.

"pete... it's okay. i'm not going to go back — i learned my lesson." she says, cupping his jaw with one hand, in order to try to calm him down.

he sighs, leaning into her hand and covering it with one of his own.

"that's the point, sweetheart. you shouldn't have to be cautious and scared to avoid him, so that he doesn't act like that. it's not okay."

she frowns, wishing that she could stop him from worrying.

but, she also knows that he needs to get these feelings out and off of his chest.

"tell me, peter. what is it?" she asks, being the understanding girlfriend that he loves — no matter how cliche that actually sounds.

"i love how good-hearted you are, sweetheart. the way you always see the good in everyone, despite what they've done to you — it's amazing," he starts, pulling her hand away from his jaw to hold over one of his legs.

"and i never want you to stop being that person. but, i also hate that you have to avoid him. you shouldn't have to give up your happiness and peace."

she nods in clear understanding.

he groans again, leaning his forehead over hers.

"it's okay, peter."

he pulls away and opens his mouth to say something in defense, but she stops him by speaking before him, "peter, i know it upsets you that he doesn't get to be punished for his actions and i get that."

he stops short, giving her a chance to finish talking.

"i know you hate that. but, i know that you love me more than any urge that you have to give him what he deserves — and that's what i need you to do, okay? love me more than you hate him." he frowns at her words.

as if noticing his hesitation, she says, "for me. please?"

he sighs in defeat and nods. "fine. for you." he murmurs as he pulls her closer into his embrace and body.

she smiles in victory as she lies her head on his shoulder. "i love you, peter parker. you know that?" she murmurs, cuddling up close to him.

"i know i can always count on you." she says, once more, smiling as he chuckles and stretches over to kiss her on the forehead.

"good. because i love you more and i'll always hold you when you need it, dove." he murmurs, smiling at her calm and at peaceful face.

and like that, they cuddle until they fall asleep with peaceful expressions on their faces.

[irondadfics]

Hey!

I was wondering if you could rec a long post no way home fic similar to blue memento by Bergen or To be better by autumn dragon. I’ve tried finding more on ao3 but most of them are one shots.

here’s some for you! Enjoy

O Brother, Where Art Thou? by theskeptileptic

8 year-old Morgan is struggling after the death of her mom. Her dad is working non-stop and her extended family of emotionally constipated superheroes are just as uncomfortable with her grief as their own. To top it off, she can't stop dreaming about a brother she's never had and all the trouble he might be in. When she convinces Tony to take her with him on a work trip to Caltech, she meets a student who looks a lot like the boy in her dreams. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem very interested in her. Good thing her dad always knows what to do.

Peter Parker's Tapeworm by Ginevra_Benci

Everyone forgets that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. Everyone includes Peter Parker.   (Summary updated to reassure you that the tapeworm is a metaphor 😊)

Long Story Short (It Was A Bad Time) Or AIs Don't Forget by peacockgirl

Turns out magic doesn't affect AIs. Karen is Peter's only link to his old life, and helps him hold on when he gets low. Meanwhile, in Upstate New York, Tony struggles with the inexplicable certainty that he's lost a kid. Until Peter gets hurt, and Karen tells FRIDAY ... Set in that wonderful AU world where Tony survives Endgame, and our boy (eventually) gets all the hugs he needs and deserves.

[thefiery-phoenix]

MY SLEEPING BEAUTY PART 2 (YANDERE PETER PARKER X READER)

Part 1

You woke up the next day feeling really fresh and energetic and you couldn't help but feel that during the night most of the times, something would hold you. But you had no idea that it was your friendly neighborhood spiderman Peter Parker who would hold you and fantasize about both of your lives together

Speaking of Peter Parker, he already started planning to kidnap you so he can have you all for himself. Finally all the days where he protected you and watched over you from the shadows were gone, you can be right in front of him where he'll always love you and smother you with his love. He knows it might take lot of time for you to adjust and get used to your new surroundings and life with him but it's for your own good darling! He's just trying to protect you from all the dangers in the world, and he as an Avenger and as Spiderman knows how dangerous and bad the world is for a pure kind innocent angel like yourself. He decided to take you the next night in your sleep so he won't get caught of kidnapping someone in broad daylight 

You couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling as the day passed while you were in school. You were really close friends with Peter and you told him about how you felt and how something warm was on your bed the other night and you actually had a good night's sleep for once. Oh yes, Peter DOES know about that and it's a good thing he held you in his protective arms and embrace otherwise you wouldn't go to sleep and you would've stayed up watching shows on Netflix and anime and reading fanfiction and whatnot. And Peter couldn't have that, what sort of boyfriend would he be if the love of his life couldn't go to sleep and gets tired the next day? He told you that he'd make sure nothing happens to you and you didn't think too much about his words. You thought he said them as a kind concerned friend but in reality, boi here is literally freaking obsessed with you 

You finally finished your day at school and went home and Peter followed you secretly without knowing. He kept an eye on you 'for your safety of course' and watched you through your window. He was mesmerized by whatever you did, everything you did drove him crazy. He loved the way you danced and hummed to the tunes of your favorite songs but he felt upset and wanted to hold you and comfort you again when you whined and grumbled in frustration while doing something difficult for homework. 'It won't be too long my love, I'll give you the life you deserve' he thought and watched you for some more time. Your mother called you for dinner later and you went down. While you were having your dinner Peter took the chance to look at your room in a more detailed manner and he loved the way you organized eveything so perfectly. He made a mental note to design a same room like this one when he takes you and he collected some little souvenirs for himself

When he heard you come back he quickly leaped out of the window. You saw the window open and you thought 'Strange... I thought it was closed. Meh, I probably left it open again or something' and you closed it. As you were getting ready for bed Peter got ready to take you for himself. It was now or never. He slowly snuck into your room after he changed into his Spiderman suit and picked you up carefully and gently bridal style. He brushed a few strands off from your face, gently kissed your lips and pulled back red faced and unable to believe he finally had you for himself. He'd finally take you to your new home where you don't have to get worried about school anymore. He was finally going to give you the life you deserved, of love and affection

[thevindicativevordan]

Hi, hope you are doing well. I am the anon who asked this question about the Maker (post/730144525324009472/im-conflicted-about-the-maker-as-a-character-on) and I wanted to know what are your thoughts on the Marvel Universe as remade by the Maker? I understand that most of it is a comentary/analogy to real life events, with technocompanies rulling the USA, the USA doing experiments in the Pacific with radiation, basically everything Midas stand for, etc. But, looking from the Maker point of view, how do you think it fits with what he wants? And what do you think he wants, in the end?

Perfect time to ask me this because after I got temp banned from the CBR Forums recently, I decided to read all of Ultimate Fantastic Four. I need to amend my earlier post regarding the Maker - he does actually feel like a believable evolution on the flaws that were always present in 1610 Reed:

Even before he became a homicidal maniac, 1610 Reed Richards was a dick. There was a mean streak and petulancy that I had forgotten about. A willingness to walk riiiiiiiight up to the moral divide that was present from the very beginning. Millar, Bendis, and Ellis all established Maker as having a darker side. Using torture against Doom was on the table, he flat out rejected the possibility that he had made a mistake, he did messed up science experiments for fun. The pieces were all there! Alas the execution sucked. I still stand by what I posted here regarding the Ultimate Doom trilogy:

Bendis' depiction of his "fall" was awful and incoherent. Under Bendis, Reed instantly becomes the type of guy willing to commit cold blooded murder against both his family and other heroes for no real reason. If Reed is pissed about the military controlling everything, why is he trying to kill Peter Parker? Shouldn't he be trying to kill Nick Fury and destroy SHIELD? That at least would make sense, Ultimate Nick Fury is a fucking awful person. Instead he murders his entire family instead of just his asshole dad because... I don't know, he's just evil now. A writer can't write someone smarter than them, and Bendis is just not the guy for tackling the world's smartest heroic mind descending into villainy. Reed's plan is dumb and paper thin.

Coldly murdering his mother and sister Enid - his sister whom he went through all the effort to save from Psycho-Man in one of the final UFF arcs! - reads even more egregiously out of character. Why did he kill those two and not just his asshole dad? No clue, Bendis never bothered to give us an explanation. Trying to kill all of SHIELD after the UFF fall apart makes perfect sense to me after reading Ultimate Power for the first time. 1610 Nick Fury is evil. Fury is a monster whom even Dick Cheney would have to kneel in awe before. Asshole deserves to die and SHIELD should be destroyed. Sending suicide bombers to murder Spider-Man and his other heroic peers on the other hand?

No Bendis, you need to actually explain WTF Maker was thinking there because that makes no sense AND it doesn't line up with his previous characterization! Maker didn't want to kill the zombie F4 despite them 1. Being undead and 2. Planning to infect and eat everyone on his Earth. He wasn't willing to kill Doom even after Ultimatum. Then suddenly off-screen he becomes the kind of guy who murders his sister who only ever looked up to and worshiped him, and his mother who tried to support him and showed him nothing but love? Terrible writing, and it makes me so mad because everything else is brilliant setup unintentional though it was.

Pages like this one floored me. You read this knowing they were not setting up Maker yet somehow it perfectly does just that. The other Baxter Building kids breaking off to form their own perfect society in a secret city tucked away from private eyes? Being sick of how they were forced to serve the military? Commitment to the idea to the point they're willing to kill the F4 and any military personnel sent after them? In-universe this, and other events like Psycho-Man's utopia, likely served as the foundation for where Maker came up with the idea of the City. Everything fits! It's a natural result of Maker having an enormous ego, having seen others make their own attempts at building utopias, tossing morality aside, and going "they failed but I'll succeed. I don't make mistakes like they do."

Begs the question OP asked: why did he make Earth 6160 into the way it is? Fantastic question especially considering that both as a hero, and during his initial fall to villainy, Maker hated the "corruption" of science into a force that only served the elite.

Yet the world of 6160 is exactly what he claimed to hate! America collapsed into a realm ruled by technocrats who abused science to enrich themselves. Freaking Midas is in the White House using cosmic energy as a power source for his war suit and the electric grid. What gives? Is it just Maker being a hypocrite? Maker offers two justifications in Ultimate Invasion. First, that he ran civilization models in the City and humanity cannot accept perfect peace. If you've ever watched the Matrix you know how that argument goes. We aren't built to live in paradise. Our human natures are too fallible, when offered the option we reject it. Given Maker's god complex it does suit him that he invokes the Biblical explanation for why evil exists - human nature demands it.

However, there's a second justification. Maker treats Earth 6160 as his playground, his laboratory. He's the Emperor of the World, and with that comes those who would covet his throne. Keeping the world full of conflicts and evils keeps people divided. They're so busy fighting each other that they can't unite against him. Hitler, Genghis Khan, Bismarck, Stalin, Mao, history is full of dictators who employed similar logic to maintain power. Yes it makes him a hypocrite but Maker is beyond caring about the "small minded" dreams he had back before he jumped off the slippery slope.

Regarding what he wants power for, there are two likely motives to parallel his two justifications. I believe he is trying to create the "Ultimate Earth", an Earth that lives up to what he wanted 1610 to be. Time travelling to the future indicates that he is at the very least invested in this Earth's well-being. He saved it from Galactus, he kept the Council from spiraling out of control as they now threaten to do in his absence. He supported scientific and technological advancements that did improve life for everyone. Howard mentions curing cancer. Maker's Ultimate Earth appears to be a technologically advanced society where the peoples lives are improved at the cost of their freedom. In a single word: Latveria. Fitting for a Reed who has gone the way of Doom.

Unsurprisingly Maker's other motive is much more selfish and narcissistic: he wants to screw with Earth 6160 Reed.

Mentioned this before somewhat in my previous post:

My theory is that it's because Maker is trying to take a Reed who is similar to 616 Reed and transform the guy into a monster like him. It's his middle finger to 616 Reed. Maker wants to prove that 616 Reed isn't better than him, if Mr. Fantastic had lost his family and been put through hell like Maker had, he would break too. That 6160 Reed is, so far, not a monster like Maker pisses Maker off. It's not logical to keep 6160 Reed around, and doing so leads to Maker's fall.

Additionally there's some clear self-hatred going on.

Note the callback to UFF with the "I don't make mistakes" line. People talk about Sue rejecting the marriage offer as being the big divergence point between the 616 and 1610 Reeds. I think it goes back even further. 616 Reed was the one who messed up his friends lives. 1610 Reed however was blameless. 1610 Doom, not Reed, was the one who caused the accident that gave the Four their powers. In Ultimate Power it was Doom's meddling which was revealed to have killed millions of people despite Maker initially being blamed. Maker never had to feel the guilt that Mr. Fantastic has to live with. Always when it seemed like he had screwed up, a reveal came to absolve him of any responsibility. Arguably his two greatest pre-Maker screw-ups were teleporting to the zombie Earth and creating the Cosmic Cube and guess what? Both of those were because of external agents in the forms of zombie Reed and Thanos meddling with his head.

So having done nothing wrong his whole life, never having screwed up with nobody to blame but himself, when Sue dumped him and his whole life fell apart because he put saving the world over his personal desires in Ultimatum? Knowing, thanks to zombie Reed, that there were Reeds out there who got married and had families and kept the Four together despite making mistakes? My headcanon is that's what broke him. Also that's why he made Doom's life hell. 6160 Reed was supposed to live the life 616 Reed got, the kind of life Maker wanted. Instead he lost everything. Why? Because from Maker's point of view, Doom doesn't deserve that kind of happiness. Why should Maker, a Reed who never made mistakes, be the one Reed denied that joy while all the Reeds who are responsible for transforming their friends get to have that?

So Maker took 6160 Reed and gave him the life he thinks Mr. Fantastic should've gotten. 6160 Reed made the mistake of not double checking his notes and lost everything. He ended up with the burnt face and Doom moniker because from Maker's point of view, that is what should have happened to 616 Reed. Maker should be the beloved hero with the fantastic family as befitting a Reed who never made mistakes, not the unworthy Reeds who are fallible. In Maker's mind, 616 Reed should be the one whose Sue rejected him and became a villain. His words in Ultimate Invasion about having thought about what he and 616 Reed would be like if they swapped lives support this.

There's a beautiful symmetry going on here between Maker and Doom. Dooms usually blame Reeds for ruining their lives by sabotaging Doom's experiments. Here is a Doom for whom that belief is valid, and his obsession with Maker completely justified. Except it's himself that he's obsessed with, just as Maker is clearly obsessed with Mr. Fantastic. A grand ouroboros of Reeds chasing after one another. Fitting, for Reeds have always been their own worse enemies.

[psithurista]

approach shift pt. nine

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 4.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: Mentions of death, fingering, a quick wristy (lol)

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: Last full chapter but there will be an epilogue in the not-too-distant; I'll probably have more notes then. Thank you x

series masterlist

The back of your head is torturously itchy. 

You try surreptitiously to press your knuckles to the spot, just to relieve the worst of it. The nurse sitting closest to you glances up at you from over the top of her monitor and guiltily, you clasp your hands back down into your lap. 

It smells sour in here, like soft plums left to rot. Whichever industrial cleaner it is this hospital uses, it’s definitely not one anybody’s trying to market for domestic use. It’s probably cheap as fuck, you contemplate, your hand drifting back up towards your head.

“You can go in now,” a new nurse says beside you. You jerk your hand away. “He’s awake. I let him know you’ve been waiting.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, unpeeling yourself from the plastic waiting room chair. “I won’t be very long. I just wanted to say hi.”

She gives you a mild, distracted okay-that’s-nice-whatever smile and disappears. You push open the door to the room she’d just exited and duck inside. 

It smells far better in here. There’s a vase of opening lilies leaving red pollen-stains on the table in front of the window, and the lavender-powder smell of clean sheets. Doctor Brant is propped up in the bed, frowning hard at the tablet in his hands.

“I hope you aren’t working while you’re meant to be resting,” you say.

He tilts his head down to peer at you over his glasses. “Oh, no. It’s just sudoku. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Doctor. How are you?”

He nods, and sets the tablet aside. “Well, they’ve finally taken me off the oxygen so I expect I’ll be allowed to leave soon. All things considered, a little smoke inhalation injury at my…advanced age could’ve been far worse.” His eyes glint a little bit. “Were you injured?”

You shake your head. “A concussion, but I’m fine. The. He. Um. You know. He got me out, before he went back for you.” 

“You shouldn’t have stayed to look for me.”

You sit gingerly on the very edge of the chair next to the bed. “I thought. I didn’t think he’d made it to you in time. I thought you were both.” Your voice starts to sound weird, so you stop talking.

He folds his hands together over his chest. “It’s strange. I remember the first time I saw him. I didn’t understand what was happening. I thought it must have been a stunt, or an advertisement for something. Silly, really. And yet he’s saved Oscorp from itself more times than it deserved. After Connors and Dillon and that whole terrible disaster with young Harry. It’s too much. There’s no reason for anybody to endanger themselves in that place ever again.” He takes his glasses off and sets them beside the bed. “Which is why I’ve resigned.”

You stare at him. “You. What?”

He smiles at you; the expression a little indulgent. “All those years of work, gone. And for nothing. I’m sure you’ve already heard what happened?”

You have. It’s been all over the news the entire week. First the speculation: was it an attack? Was it political? Was it another disgruntled ex-employee? A competitor? And then, later, the worse, more boring truth: regular old corporate negligence. An undertrained technician who’d tried to prematurely purge a vac test chamber with concentrated oxygen. An alarm system two years overdue for maintenance. And floor upon floor of laboratories filled with dangerous substances, improperly stored.



Nobody else in your department was seriously hurt. But others weren’t so lucky.

“When I started with Norm, it was all about changing the world for the better. And in the end, we’ve helped nobody.” He shakes his head. “If you’ll forgive my language…Fuck Oscorp. I’m ready to start over.”

You grin at him, even though it feels a little watery. “I’m…really happy for you.” And you are. In the brief time you’ve worked under him, his passion has been obvious, but he’s always seemed so bogged down by the minutiae of red tape; appeasing a board of investors with no interest in the importance of his life’s work beyond its potential profitability. 

But it also makes your already-uncertain future with the company even foggier. You’ll need to find someone else willing to offer you a similar graduate position, and you already know you won’t find anything else quite as specialised as the work he’s been doing. 

He takes a sip from the glass of water beside his bed, then sits back with a sigh. “Publicly-funded research is a far less glamorous world than that of private enterprise. We’ll be relying primarily on grant funding and academic support. There won’t be any glass fountains or vertical gardens, I’m afraid.”

You nod sympathetically. “I can imagine. It’ll be a big change.”    His eyebrows draw together at you. “I would understand if your answer is no.”

You blink. “My answer?” you say, like a genius. 

“If so, I would, of course, write you a glowing recommendation. And I have plenty of contacts I could put you in touch with, if you’d prefer that.”

Holy shit. Is he…? “Hold on. Are you offering me a position with you?”

“Well, yes.”

He grunts as you dart in and hug him. “Oh! Yes! I mean, of course! I would love to. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this.”

“Uh.”

You lean back as he smooths his blankets down. “Sorry,” you say, a little sheepish. “That was unprofessional.”

He tries to look stern, but it’s unconvincing. “Well, yes,” he says again. “But I’ll choose to ignore it just this once.”

You stop by to see Bear on your way home. The roller doors in the alley beside the grimy little theatre are propped open so you can see all the half-painted set pieces inside, and there’s a bunch of people dressed all in black gathered around smoking. 

“Are you gonna be home tonight?” you ask, watching her inhale the deli sandwich you’d brought after correctly guessing she hadn’t stopped rehearsing long enough for lunch.

“I can be if you want,” she says, her mouth full of half-chewed food. “But I was kind of planning on staying at a friend’s.”

You press your knuckles absently against the back of your head and leer at her. “Would this friend happen to be the same person who wanted you to move in after one salad date?”

“If you don’t stop scratching your stitches I’m calling the hospital and narcing to your doctor. And yes.”

You make a face. “I’m not even touching them!”

She stuffs the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and wipes her hands on her jeans. “I’m seriously cool not to go, though. It’s totally fine.”

She’s barely left you alone since you got back from the emergency room, even setting alarms and checking up on you throughout the first couple of nights. You know for a fact she’s had to cancel other plans for you—again. You shake your head. “No, go. I kind of want some alone time anyway.” 

It’s another cold, bright afternoon. You walk into the feet of your shadow and spread your fingers beside your body as your arms move, watching them elongating out on the pavement in front of you, lost in thought. You’ve been lost in thought a lot, lately.

You’re just past the end of your block when you catch sight of the figure sitting on the stairs outside your building. Long legs in faded jeans are stretched out and crossed over at the ankles, and there’s duct tape around the toe of one sneaker. You slow to a halt on the sidewalk. A woman behind you huffs with irritation, veering around you, a giant paper grocery bag clutched in her arms.

He looks up from his cracked phone screen as you draw level with your door. His hair is as chaotic as ever, stuck up in every direction, except for at the nape of his neck, where it curls gently around in little flicks. He looks tired. He’s always looked tired, the whole time you’ve known him, but you notice it differently now. Like the holes in his jeans, and the bruise on his jaw, and the angry-sore-looking blisters on his knuckles. 

He smiles a little, jerking you out of your silent staring. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t wanna just show up unannounced. I’ve been trying to call, but,” he holds his phone up, and you shake your head.

“My phone was—”

“Yeah, I figured.”

The wind lifts the edge of your scarf and shivers under the neck of your coat. There’s something sweet in the air; like cinnamon sugar, maybe someone baking from one of the open windows overhead. “Do you want to come inside?”

His expression is soft as he considers you, looking up through his lashes. “Okay.”

Neither of you speak on the trip upstairs. Your hand accidentally brushes his as you reach out for the elevator buttons, and you both pull away, as awkward and over-polite as strangers. 

He stands a respectful distance back as you open your door, and you lead him inside, waving your hand vaguely toward the sofa. “Do you want a drink?”

He folds himself into the seat nearest the window, hunching over and shoving his hands between his knees. A cold drift of sun touches his jaw. “Um, no thanks, it’s cool.”

You sit down beside him, folding your hands across your lap like you’re about to get a class picture taken. 

He chews his lip, runs his thumbs over his burned hands. Outside, a car horn beeps. “It’s not because I didn’t trust you,” he starts. “If you’re wondering. I don’t want you thinking that’s the reason.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You don’t need to explain.”

“I just want you to know—”

“I know.” You try to smile at him, and it feels a little watery. “I get it. I know why you couldn’t tell me.”

His brows bend together just enough to mark out a pained line. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Really. Don’t be.”

It falls silent in your living room. The little clay pinch pot in the centre of the coffee table Bear had brought home from the artists’ market watches you both watching one another; soft-skinned and tender as nervous newborn things.

“You might die doing this,” you finally point out. “One day. All those times you’ve been hurt. You might…not come home.”

He nods at the floor. “Which is why I couldn’t really ask you to, you know. Waste your time with—” he waves his hands vaguely back and forth between your bodies. “It’s not worth it. And, like, trust me, I would never, ever want to drag you into any of the shit I’m involved with. I didn’t mean to fuck you around so long, knowing you wouldn’t...” He looks back at you, his dark eyes soft. “It was just. The happiest I’ve been in a really long time. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry. It was shitty of me. Selfish.”

You stare at him for a few seconds in stunned disbelief. Then you laugh. You don’t mean to, and his head jerks back, startled. “Are you serious?” you manage.

His eyes are huge. “Uh. Yeah?”

You laugh again. It sounds a little manic. “You’re unbelievable.”

He flushes. “Could you maybe quit laughing at me when I’m trying to—”

“Peter. You saved my fucking life. Twice. Even after I was a total asshole to you. You saved me.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, look, I don’t want you to feel weird about that. Like, it’s totally, one-hundred-percent not a big deal and I never want anybody to feel like—”

“You help people. Strangers. Every day. For nothing. And they aren’t even grateful. The things people write about you.” He hasn’t moved, and you realise you’re talking louder than you need to, considering he’s right in front of you. “You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever met,” you tell him, emphatic, needing him to get it. “You’re a good person, Peter. I’m so sorry I didn’t see that before.” Your voice breaks a little and it’s embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the fact that your vision has gone blurry and your cheeks feel suddenly too hot.

You stop and breathe for a few moments, willing yourself not to cry. He doesn’t say anything, just studies the edge of the rug as though he’s pretending not to notice, and you’re grateful. 

Then, quietly, he takes a breath. “I was going to tell you. Before the fire. I saw May, and she told me she saw you, and that you’d talked, and. I wanted to explain everything.”

You remember the way May had looked that day in the park; her small, sad mouth, and the way she’d spoken slowly like she was choosing each word carefully. “Does she know?”

Peter half-shrugs. “We’ve never talked about it. But, like, I know she knows. And she knows I know she does.” He gives you a little smile. “It’s easier if we both keep pretending we don’t, though.”

“Does anyone else?”

His smile turns tight. “I guess not. Not really.”

“So you’ve been doing this all on your own? The whole time? How?”

He runs his hand back through his hair. “Yeah. Well, I guess I’m pretty good with DIY now, you know? I wasn’t always. I had to learn. Shit went wrong a lot in the beginning. Shit still goes wrong a lot.”

You lean in a little, curling into the cushions. “What’s the hardest part?”

You’re expecting him to say the fear of discovery, or the isolation, or the sheer physical exhaustion. But he wrinkles his nose. “God. The sewing. It’s so hard. And it’s constant. I swear I pop a different seam every day.” His face goes blank for a moment and he looks at you as though a brand new thought has just occurred to him for the first time. “It’s actually really nice. Getting to talk about this.”

“Am I allowed to ask about the outfit?”

He slaps his hands over his face. “You are absolutely fucking not allowed to ask about the outfit.”

Your mouth drops open in outrage. “I wasn’t gonna laugh! I just want to know why—”

“Look, I was going for, like, a velodrome thing. Like for speed and better flexibility and less wind-resistance and then like, anonymity as well, obviously, and originally—”

“What about the, uh, pattern?”

“Yeah, okay, okay, it seemed cool at the time! I was fifteen!”

The thought of Peter as a child, alone, in danger, no doubt even ganglier and nerdier than he is now, sends a fresh pang of sadness through you. You try not to let it show. “Do you eat the webs?”

He stares like you’ve just asked if he’d like to swap heads with you. “What?”

“Certain types of spiders go back and eat their webs after they’re done with them. Like, to replenish the protein they expended making them. Do you ever eat yours?”

The expression on his face is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. “Uh, no. It’s inorganic. Like, it’s a, like essentially a nylon polymer composite. It’s not edible. I mean, I’ve never tried, but it’s designed to dissolve after a few hours, so I guess if you did really want to eat it, it wouldn’t hurt you…” He trails off, sheepish, looking at you sideways. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Yeah,” you say, unable to stifle your smile any longer. 

He grins and ducks his head. He hasn’t shaved today, you note; there’s a little bit of stubble along his jawline. 

Your chest hurts. Seeing him, being close to him, just like before. It pulls open the ache of missing him, turning it from a bruise into a wound. You know you shouldn’t. You tell yourself not to. But you do it anyway.

“I miss you.” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper. 

He looks so fucking sad. His eyes are huge and pained and so close, and then they dart down to your lips, and you see it; the precise split-second the urge hits him, then the one after as he fights it, and your heart sinks and you’re about to lean back but then his mouth is on yours and it’s soft and it’s warm and unbearably gentle as his hands sweep up to the base of your neck.

It’s not the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

You’re twisted uncomfortably to face him. Your hands lay shocked in your lap, and you’re pretty sure he can hear you attempting not to sniffle too much with your breathing, and you’re so busy worrying about it that you forget to open up to him; his tongue touching the edge of your lips. His fingertips brush the stitches at the back of your head and you flinch, pulling away.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, visibly mortified. 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Didn’t hurt. It’s just sensitive.”

“For kissing you,” he clarifies. “I know we’re not, like…you know. Anymore.”

That hurts. You shake your head. “We could be. We could try.”

“I can’t ask you—"

“No. Don’t do that. What do you want?”

He exhales through his nose and a tiny, pained sound escapes with it. “It’s not that easy—“

“It is. It is that easy. What do you want?”

“You have no idea,” he says, suddenly. “God. You have no fucking idea how bad I want you. I want this. You’re the only thing I. Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes, frustrated. “You just have no idea how bad this could go.”

“I do,” you tell him, gently. “I know exactly how bad it could go. And I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry that happened. It’s so, so fucked up that that happened and I’m so sorry, and I know nothing I can say will ever make any of it any less fucked up, but fucked up things happen. They happen all the time for normal people, too. And fucked up things are going to keep happening and it’s inevitable and it’s part of being alive and that’s why we just need to take that risk every day, and choose to—to try to just be happy in as many stupid fucking hopeless ways as we can anyway, because we deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

He’s staring at you like he wants to believe you. Like he wants to cry. “You need to know,” he says, reaching his hand out, pulling it back. “I can’t promise you this’ll be okay. If you still wanted…I would try. I would try so, so hard for you. Harder than I’ve ever tried at anything. But I—I still just have no way of knowing that it’ll be okay.“

You smile at him, shaky and sure. “That’s any relationship, Parker.”

This time when he kisses you, you’re ready. Your mouth opens eagerly under his, catching the faint metal-salt of his skin, the dryness where his lips are ever-so-slightly windburnt. 

All the breath leaves your body in a rush. You shove your hands up through his hair, lifting up onto your knees and sliding across his lap until you’re straddling him on the couch. 

He tilts his head back to work his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to find the edges of your bra, and it’s awkward and clumsy and you’re both breathing hard by the time he manages to get your jeans unzipped and his hand cramped into your underwear. 

“Holy shit,” you gasp, half-dizzy from kissing without pause. You almost bite him when his fingers find your clit. “Can you—yeah, like that, oh, my God—"

“Hold on, it’d be better if, let me…” he murmurs, frustrated, and you let out what could only be described as a yelp as he lifts your entire weight up to easily shove your jeans and underwear the rest of the way off your legs before settling you back down over his lap. 

You’re stuck between trying to grind down against the front of his jeans and trying to give him enough space to work his hand back between your legs, ultimately deciding on the latter as he finds your clit again, this time his attentions unhampered by clothing. 

His body hasn’t forgotten yours. It only takes a few moments of searching before he has you melting into the palm of his hand; your bones soft and hot inside you as you roll your eyes closed. It’s easy with him, just like before, but better.

You’re almost close when he eases two fingers inside you, and that’s easy too, so easy, the way you give for him. Your forehead rests against his as your lips come apart; too focused for kissing anymore.

“I missed you,” he breathes, working his wrist. “God, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You flex your thighs as you rock with the movement of his hand, and that’s when you need to touch him, urgently. It takes a little repositioning before you manage to open his jeans and ease his cock out, wrapping your fingers loosely around him. 

You feel him tense and shudder as you stroke him, too slow to really get him anywhere, too lost in the way his long, firm fingers curl inside you. 

He noses along your jaw, mouthing lazily at your damp skin, his eyes closed, and then he’s there, right where you need him, and you’re clenching and biting down on the sounds trying to escape as you come apart sudden and hard around him.

You’re still loose-limbed and shaky when he pulls his slick fingers free, gently moving your hand out of the way to grasp himself instead. You feel a little guilty; you’d almost forgotten about him straining in front of you, but he doesn’t seem to care as he jerks himself quick and short in his fist. His other hand cups the swell of your ass as he huffs hot breath into your hair, your neck, coming sudden across the inside of your thigh.

You slump your weight against him. 

Neither of you speak for a while. Your hand is curled between your bodies, trapped where it’s warm and you can feel his heart slowing in his chest. He runs his hand absently from your hip to your thigh, then back again.

“Peter,” you murmur.

“Mmm.”

“You do need to promise me one thing, though.”

He moves, just enough that he can look up at you. His cheeks are flushed. “What?”

“We can never. And I mean never. Tell Bear we fucked on her couch.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Oh, my God. She already hates me.”

“I know. But it’s okay, because we’re not gonna tell her.”

“I just don’t know if I can keep that secret; I’m not good at subterfuge, y’know, I’m just not that kinda guy—"

“Yeah, yeah, okay—"

“—and you should see me under pressure; I fold like origami—"

You kiss him again, just to shut him up, and feel his lips curling up against yours. 

Your thighs feel sticky and gross, and you’re starting to get cold, and when you get up you nearly fall over from the cramp in your leg from sitting so awkwardly, but you’re too happy to care in the slightest. 

You stand together in the bathroom, cleaning each other up. Every time his eyes meet yours in the mirror you both smile again, giggling and getting in each other’s way, like idiots.

It takes twice as long as it should to get back out to the couch, and you’re hoping he’ll curl up with you again but then you catch him glancing toward the window. “You need to go,” you say. It’s not really a question.

He hedges. “I kind of do, but…”

You offer him a little smile. “It’s okay. Go.”

He nods. You walk him to the door, where he pauses. He chews at his thumbnail, looking at you sideways again from under his eyelashes.

You watch him for a few seconds, waiting. “What?” you finally say.

He presses his lips together, runs his hand through his hair. “So. It’s probably, like, kind of weird. To ask. At this…uh, juncture.”

He’s nervous, you realise. It’s excruciatingly endearing. You nudge him. “I feel like weird’s kind of our thing.”

He grins. “Yeah. I guess. So. I was gonna ask if you’d like to go out. For dinner. Friday night.”

There’s absolutely no way to prevent the smile slowly pulling at your mouth. “Peter. Are you asking me on a date?”

He laughs, a little self-conscious huff. “Uh, yeah. Like. I mean, I wanted to way sooner. But. I guess I wanna try doing things properly this time. If you want.”

You can think of a thousand different things to say, but most of them are embarrassing, so you settle for keeping it simple. “Yes. Fuck yes. Obviously.”

He blinks. “Oh, okay, awesome, holy shit. Okay. Should we…? I don’t have your new number.”

“Oh, yeah, I need to get yours again too.” You pull your phone out and make a new contact before handing it to him.

He stares at your screen for a second, then he snorts. “You have me in your phone as ‘p.p.’?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Why? What do you have me as?”

He laughs again, quiet, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He hands your phone back. He takes a few steps out the door, then he sticks his hands in his pockets. “So. I’ll see you?”

“You will,” you tell him, watching the way his jaw juts crookedly when he smiles. 

He’s halfway to the elevator, walking backwards, his hands still in his pockets when he calls back to you. “Friday, Miss Jersey.”

You laugh. “Quit disturbing my neighbours.”

You stay there long after he’s gone, leaning against your doorframe, smiling to yourself, aching with stupid, giddy affection.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

The Truth Revealed

Pairing: Platonic! Peter Parker & Reader; Reader x Bucky (but that's not really plot relevant)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: nun too bad, Bucky finds out the truth and kinda blows up but it all works out yk lol

Genre: kinda angst kinda fluff

Summary: You happen to be the only person who still remembers Peter Parker exists and you are not about to hang him out to dry. So what happens when you take Peter in and basically become his guardian? Well- nothing is simple where super-teens are involved, but you and Peter can certainly handle whatever comes your way. Right?

***

Peter comes barreling down the hall yanking his mask over his head as he rambles quicker than you can warn him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I know I missed dinner, but man you would not believe the night I've had?! And of course most of it won't be reported because they're not like world ending, Avenger level threats just a bunch of losers bullying my neighborhoods? It's like they all decided to commit crime tonight or som-" he stops suddenly when he finally sees Bucky sitting next to you on the couch. "Mr. Bucky- I- didn't know you'd be here tonight. Hi." Peter says awkwardly. You take in Bucky's changing expression and then look back at Peter.

"Peter your dinner's on the counter." You say, clearing your throat.

"Right yeah thanks." Peter pivots into the kitchen.

"What the fuck?" Bucky turns to you.

"Take a breath." You warn.

"I'm breathing- but what the fuck?"

"I know this is a shock but there's no need to make it a big deal."

"Oh this is a huge deal, Peter when you're done heating up your food come have a seat." Bucky calls into the kitchen and you cringe to yourself.

"Peter when you're done heating up your food take it into your bedroom." You call and Bucky's head snaps towards you again.

"Are you serious?" Bucky blinks at you and for the first time ever it feels like you're on different sides of the fence, but you have to handle this in whatever way is best for Peter and right now that means putting yourself between him and Bucky.

"You and I will talk about this first because we are the adults and then if you still want to speak to Peter after, he can join us." You say calmly.

"He needs to be part of this discussion." Bucky says.

"No he needs to eat dinner and you very clearly need a moment before addressing him." You stand firm. You know if he talks to Peter first he'll go red in the face yelling at him and Peter doesn't deserve that, you don't even know if he'll be able to handle that reaction. Bucky blows out an angry breath through his nose and fixes you with a look that would probably make anyone else wither away but you hold his gaze unwavering until Peter shuffles down the hall with his dinner.

"How long have you known?" Bucky asks you once Peter's room door is closed.

"Technically speaking, since 2017." You say.

"Excuse you?" Bucky frowns.

"It actually caused one of the worst arguments I ever had with Tony, for involving him in that Sokovia Accords fight at the airport when the kid was like 15." You scoff.

"Sokov- so you're not his godmother and you didn't know his aunt?"

"I'm not his godmother technically no, he doesn't have one. Or I guess his aunt would've been his godmother? Sorry not the point- when Tony died I kind of took over as his 'Avenger adult' since Tony was sort of mentoring him, granted we butted heads on Tony's methods a lot before that so I guess it started before Tony died. I did know his aunt though, we became friends once I learned Peter was Spider-Man." You say.

"So were ever going to tell me that or was I just going to be left in the dark forever like a fool?" Bucky asks.

"Bucky you are not a fool, first of all. It's not like I kept it from you maliciously, it's just that this wasn't my secret to tell you. It was Peter's decision to make and I support whatever choices he would've made regarding who knows and who doesn't." You explain.

"But we are supposed to be a team."

"We are a team."

"You lied to me. Malicious or not, you hid this pertty big thing from me." He frowns.

"Bucky-"

"You told me you were taking in a friend's kid after she died." He cuts you off.

"Which is true." You say.

"You didn't tell me that kid was an Avenger. One of us."

"Well it's not like you were rushing to tell him your secrets either." You point out.

"That's different he's a kid we're responsible for, this is something I should know."

"When I first brought Peter here you explicitly said you wanted nothing to do with that responsibility. Even just being friendly with him was something you dreaded the very idea of. I respected that wish. You've started developing a relationship with him and that's great but excepting me to betray his trust because you suddenly want to be involved is unrealistic you have to see that." You sigh.

"What if he decided never to tell me?" Bucky crosses his arms.

"Well then he doesn't have to!"

"Seriously? That would've been okay with you?"

"Yes. Peter has made sacrifices that no child should have to make and I will not let you make him feel guilty because of them. You can be mad all you want, I understand it hurts to find out you were left out of something and that's valid but you're not about to yell at Peter, you're not even going to speak to Peter until you stop pointing fingers for something you have no idea about." You grit out.

"Explain it to me. How do you justify that you've kept this from me for years now?"

"You didn't want anything to do with Peter 3 months ago. Why would I go telling his secrets to someone who specifically said to leave them out of it?"

"But that's clearly changed." He rolls his eyes.

"And it's still Peter's secret. You know better than anyone, trust is earned. I can't decide for Peter when that risk is worth taking. He has to decide for himself that he's ready for you to know and maybe that day was never going to come. Yes we're taking care of him but he's not a child James. Spider-Man is his and it's already ruined his life once."

"Spider-Man ruined his life?" Bucky scoffs.

"After Tony died I- wasn't around as much as I maybe should've been for him, Peter ended up getting caught up with some guy who offered him guidance where he had none, but he turned out to be a super villain and tried to convince the world that Spider-Man, that Peter was dangerous, evil even. It spilled into his normal life because that guy revealed to the entire planet that Peter was Spider-Man, it affected his friends, his family, there were protests outside his school. He couldn't deal, he went to Strange, asked him to fix it, make the world forget he was Spider-Man but that went horribly wrong, got so outta hand, universes started colliding with each other, and Peter was facing villains he should have never even known about. Almost lost his friends, did lose his aunt, and the only solution Strange had was to make everyone across all universes forget Peter Parker ever existed. He went from mourning Tony, to mourning every relationship he's ever had. Either through death or the earasure of his existence from their memories. So excuse me if I'm not keen on forcing him to tell anyone, including you, a damn thing. Last time didn't go so great." You say.

"Oh-"

"He has been fighting adult battles, making grown up decisions, since he was 15. Being a hero robbed him of so much and I am doing everything in my power to give him something back. You will not make him feel bad for not sharing something that has caused him so much pain." It takes a lot to control the emotion threatening to make your voice shake as you speak.

"I didn't realize." Bucky says.

"I know. That's why I insisted we talk alone before you say anything to him. I know how you can but but this is much bigger than us just 'lying to you' for no reason." You say.

"Is there anything else regarding this that I'm missing?" He asks.

"Not really. It's not like you had memories of him to lose from all that's happened, I don't think you ever even met him as Peter, he disappeared in the snap same as you and after Tony died he went to London on a school trip and you were off dealing with that wannabe Steve so- yeah. Nothing really changed for you."

"But for you?"

"Nothing really. I- was maybe the only exception across universes for Strange's insane spells. It's why I took him in." You shrug.

"Oh wait- so when you said you went to yell at Strange a few weeks ago-"

"He altered reality at the whims of a teenager, he deserved way more than a yelling at." You nod. "Do you still want to talk to Peter?"

"Yeah- I'd like to." He nods.

"No yelling?" You verify.

"No yelling."

"Alright, I'll go get him." You nod walking down the hall to Peter's room. You knock on the door and wait for him to mutter come in before entering. "You almost done eating?"

"I'm done." Peter clears his throat.

"Bucky wants to talk to you." You tell him.

"Is he still mad?" Peter winces.

"No." You shake your head.

"He seemed pretty peeved earlier." He wrings his hands together nervously.

"He was, that's why I had you leave, so I  could handle it, which I did." You sit next to Peter on his bed.

"I don't- like it when you guys argue." He mumbles.

"Neither do I." You shrug.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" You frown.

"You were arguing because of me." He says and you shake your head immediately.

"We were arguing because Bucky and I are two adults with opinions, believe it or not we're not going to agree on everything all the time. Even though it doesn't happen often." You wave a hand dismissively.

"Yeah but- I heard you guys... it's my fault for-"

"Don't start. Bucky was mad he didn't know, sure, but you are not responsible for his feelings and he didn't know the circumstances. I wasn't going to have him yelling at you when you did nothing wrong, especially since I'm the one who decided we would keep it from him."

"But it's my secret, he shouldn't blame you for-"

"Peter, love, my job is to protect you, even if it's from Bucky. You let me worry about the big bad wolf. And please, for once in your life, stop trying to be the grown up. You've got two of us doing it just fine." You kiss the top of his head. "Let's go, I told Bucky all that went down and he's much calmer now, but if he starts yelling that conversation ends immediately. I'm not about to let him make you feel guilty." You tell him. Peter nods and the two of you return to the living room where Bucky's still sitting.

"Hey kid, have a seat." Bucky clears his throat when he sees you. Peter sits in the armchair and you sit next to Bucky.

"I'm sorry for not- telling you earlier about the Spider-Man thing." Peter says.

"It's fine kid. I get why you might be hesitant to spill. I've got my fair share of secrets that I wouldn't go telling just anyone. It was just a shock, but I want to be clear, I'm not mad. I mean I was at first but once y/n explained everything to me there was really no way to justify being angry with you."

"I just don't want to be the reason you two fight."

"Nah don't worry, this was nothing. As far as fights go, it barely counts, and you are not to blame. I'm just hotheaded sometimes." Bucky shrugs.

"So- everything's okay?" Peter asks.

"Yeah." Bucky nods.

"Everything's okay Peter." You say.

"Oh shit-" Bucky blinks.

"What?"

"The whole accords situation."

"Yeah when the whole world thought you killed King T'Chaka." You nod.

"Ye- thank you." He says flatly.

"What about it?"

"The fight at the airport, you said Tony brought Peter to that fight."

"Correct. I cussed him out for that."

"Circling back to that, I can't believe I didn't realize it before, he grabbed my arm, it was crazy- you have to be pulling punches when you fight, right Peter?" Bucky asks.

"Uh- yeah, usually. I- could easily kill someone if I'm not careful." Peter says.

"That's impressive." Bucky hums.

"Sorry, what did you not realize before? That he pulls his punches?" You ask.

"No. He was super talkative during that fight. He's been living here for almost a year and I never made that connection, I honestly should've figured it out within a couple of months if I was actually paying attention."

"I mean, your hypervigilance usually takes a back seat when you're here so it makes sense you didn't notice. Plus, that was almost a decade ago at this point, we've had much bigger fish to fry since then- it's easy to forget details like the sound of some kid's voice." You say.

"If it helps, I don't sound the same as I did when I was 15." Peter says. "Do I?" He asks you.

"Not exactly, no." You say with a chuckle.

"I mean yeah sure I just can't believe I missed it."

"Baby, it's not that deep." You kiss his cheek. "Peter and I are just great secret keepers." You wink at Peter who smiles.

"You and I both know my secret keeping puts yours to shame." Bucky scoffs yanking you over into his lap.

"If you guys are gonna get all lovey can I go back to my room?" Peter interrupts making you and Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to make it clear to you that I'm not angry with you. I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things." Bucky says.

"You know I've got you too Petey." You smile at him.

"Thanks guys. I appreciate it I swear but you're still in his lap and it makes me wanna leave." Peter says.

"You know one day Peter you'll love a girl so much you never want to let her go." Bucky says squeezing you tighter for emphasis. In any other circumstance you'd have giggled but you see the way Peter's shoulder's drop and your heart aches for him.

"Yeah, one day. I'm- gonna go play some video games." Peter says before disappearing down the hall.

"Was it just me or did his energy change?" Bucky frowns at you and you sigh.

"He had a girlfriend." You say.

"What?"

"Before Strange's spell that erased him from the memories of the whole world he had a girlfriend. And he loved her enouhg that he was willing to alter the very course of our world to see her happy. Still does."

"Man I'm an asshole." Bucky's head drops to your shoulder.

"You didn't know."

"Yeah but-"

"No buts. It was an easy mistake to make. We're all figuring things out as we go." You say.

"I should go talk to him."

"Sure." You say sliding over onto the couch so Bucky can stand.

"Don't worry doll I'll be back." He says kissing you cheek.

"I'll be here." You smile at him as he goes down the hall. It's a good thing Bucky knows everything now, but you clearly have quite a ways to go when it comes to Peter. You wonder if it'll ever get easier.

***

Tagged Users: @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @buchi91

[spider-stark]

Forever Indebted

HARRY OSBORN X READER

Summary - Peter Parker might’ve saved your life, but Harry Osborn owns your heart.

Warnings - mature themes, cheating

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

IT WAS a tale as old as time, an unavoidable fate that had been sealed a millenia ago. In every iteration of the story, the hero gets the girl—and he deserves the girl, does he not? 

After all, how else are you meant to repay him? The sung hero saves not only your life, but also your world, and then his only request is the promise of your hand in his; how could you say no? Is it even a choice? 

You find yourself indebted to them, your blood running cold at the realization that they hadn’t just saved your life, they had claimed it. 

You become bound to them, that hero that liberates you from the shackles of death. You become obligated to love them after they save your body; your flesh, your bones, the mortal husk that encompasses your being. 

But what of the one that saves your soul? The one that saves your passion, your vivacity, your charm—the epitome of you? 

How do you repay him? 

Can you?

“God-I missed you.” 

The words washed over you, laced with an intoxicating blend of desperation and adoration. Soft, slender fingers moved towards your face, gingerly brushing a stray hair into place. 

He had never let anyone see this side of him before—allowed them to see him look so tender, so breakable—but you were the sole exception to the rule, the only one with the ability to crumble the towering walls he’d built around himself. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” You teased him, your arms lazily slung around his neck, a few mere inches being the only thing separating the two of you. “Figured you were probably having withdrawals by now.” 

Harry could only watch as a playful grin tugged at your lips, an unfamiliar warmth spreading throughout his chest as he felt your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. You’re right, he thought to himself, too enamored with you to remember how to form words, I couldn’t have gone another day, another hour, another second without you. 

Love had been such a strange concept to him, one that still proved to be overwhelming at times. He had been raised differently, taught to take whatever scraps he was given, to lick love off of knives and never complain when his mouth filled with copper. Until you, he had never known love could be so sickeningly sweet, a sensation powerful enough to make his teeth ache. 

“How long do we have?” His voice cracked under the pressure of unspoken emotions, a light touch coming to cradle your cheek, studying your face as he held you—he worked to commit every freckle, every line, every curve to memory. 

Too often that was all he had of you, a memory of the moments shared behind closed doors, the rest of his time spent yearning for them, dreaming of them, living for them. You had become his lifeline, the sole tether to his sanity; and he became the same for you. 

You nuzzled into his hand, eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his skin pressed to yours. He watched as you smiled, the subtle and apologetic kind of smile that always left his stomach feeling taut. “Not long.” 

If you had a choice, you would have stayed here with him forever. 

You would have locked yourself away in his office and hoped that the walls of Oscorp could serve as an impenetrable fortress. You would have let him lay you down against the cool mahogany of his desk, allowed his body to curve into yours as you turned every aberrant thought you’d ever had about him into reality. 

You wanted him to corrupt you, to drain every ounce of purity from your body, until there was nothing good left for Spider-Man to claim. 

“It’s okay.” Harry hummed, the lie slipping through his teeth so easily that you almost believed it. The truth was in his eyes, though, the unspoken words having drowned in pools of deep blue: Please, don’t go this time. Stay, stay here for another second, another moment, maybe a day—you could stay forever, if you’d like. “We’ll make the most of it.” 

You swallowed roughly, forcing yourself to nod, the only response you could try to offer. 

There was no such thing as enough time with Harry. Before him, you had never wished for eternity, unable to bear the thought of spending so long at your captors side. Now you could only dream of an eternity spent by Harry’s side, though you were convinced that even that would be insufficient. 

You hadn’t been fortunate enough to be granted such a vast measure of time, though, cursed to have only this. 

Moments so excruciatingly short that they made you consider the striking brevity of life, made you wonder what could have been if Spider-Man hadn’t been the one to save you. 

I would rather be dead than indebted to him, a private thought you’d never share, an admission that changed nothing of your circumstance. Yet, still, whenever you looked at Harry you knew it to be true; I would rather be dead than spend another moment without your touch. 

You had grown to despise Peter, not only for the choice he made, but because you knew that if you only asked, he would let you go. That was the agonizing complexity of the situation; knowing he would give you what you wanted, but being unable to ask, too aware of what he had given for you, what he had sacrificed. 

How does one turn away a hero? How do you deny him his only desire?  

What a cruel thing it had become, you often thought to yourself, to feel as if you owe someone your life. 

But oh, you would sigh, collapsing into Harry’s arms and inhaling the scent of vanilla and bitter coffee, how easy it would be to give that life to him. 

He finally drew you from your thoughts, patience wearing thin as his free hand slipped around your waist, effectively pulling you closer to his chest. Your breathing stilled as he neared closer, his lips having missed your mouth in favor of your ear. 

The unexpected warmth of his breath sent chills down your spine as spoke, “I want you.” 

It was a statement so suggestive in nature, yet having been said so delicately that it urged you to ache for him. Of course he had wanted your body; wanted you in the most carnal ways that you could imagine. But he also wanted more than that—he wanted to leave no part of you untouched, no part unloved. 

“I’ll always want you.” He vowed, leaving a trail of faint kisses along your jawline, the tender gesture serving as a silent promise of its own; even if you’re not mine, even if only in private. 

His silken lips continued to travel along your face, and once they finally found their home against your own you found yourself wanting to scream to him; But I am! My body, my soul, my very being.  I will carve your name into my heart, let your love seep into my skin and flow through my veins because I. Am. Yours. 

But you didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. His mouth moved so fervently against your own that you were unable to will yourself to do anything other than sink into the blissful feeling, painfully aware that it wouldn’t last near as long as you’d want it to. 

The hand resting on your cheek slid to the base of your neck, holding you in place as the sheer force of his kiss parted your lips, the taste of him on your tongue numbing your senses entirely. You had become addicted to him—the sensation of his hands desperately roaming your body, always seeking new ways to pull you closer; the devout way he uttered your name under his breath, letting it drip from his tongue as if it were the only prayer he could remember.

It was a sensation so pure, so unadulterated and ardent that you wondered how you could ever force yourself to walk away from him. It was true that Peter Parker had been the one to save your life, but you knew that Harry Osborn was the only reason you felt alive. 

You tugged at his suit-coat, forcing him to abandon his grip on you in order to shed the unnecessary fabric onto the floor. A low whine was the only sound you could create, a plea for him to keep going, to remove the thin black undershirt that had been beneath it. He only chuckled at your desperation before pulling it over his head and tossing it to the ground as well. 

You immediately went for his bare skin, the muscles tensing under the freezing touch, a string of expletives escaping his lips at the unexpected feeling. He wasted little time returning to his previous actions, though, pushing himself into your mouth once again. 

The way your body ached for him was so evident, arching into his touch as his hands pushed underneath your top. He fought the urge to mark you, every ounce of his willpower going into not dragging his nails along your spine, into not leaving dark bruises against your hips. Do it, you wanted to tell him, let him know who I really belong to. 

Harry pulled back from your kiss, his lungs stinging from a lack of oxygen; but less than a second passed before you had your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him towards your neck with an enticing whimper. 

You wanted him to be rough, wanted to feel the sting of his teeth sinking into your neck, your waist, your thighs. You wanted to be covered in him, let him claim every inch of your skin. The sight of you presenting yourself to him, so willing to let him have his way with you, made him want to throw caution to the side. Both of you knew that if he saw the marks then it would raise suspicion. Perhaps, though, that had been the point. 

An open-mouthed kiss was placed against your jugular, his canines just barely grazing against you as he worked his way across your neck. “Please.” you begged, the one word having the power to bring him to his knees. 

But, before he could act on the mutual desire, an ear-piercing noise sounded throughout the room; your phone vibrating on the other end of his desk. Both of you glanced in its direction, Peter’s name displayed on the cracked screen. 

Your time was up. 

The realization caused a violent crushing sensation to spread throughout your chest; the only remedy for the pain it caused was the chaste kiss Harry pressed against your temple, a similar feeling having coursed through him. 

“I’ll see you soon?” You knew that he couldn’t answer the question, not with certainty, neither of you aware of when you’d be able to sneak off again. 

He nodded anyways, his hand straightening your shirt, unbunching the fabric that had been pushed up your waist. “I’ll be waiting.” 

You may have owed Peter your life, but there was no denying that Harry owned your heart.

a/n - im not sure if anyone even reads/writes harry osborn stuff anymore, but idc cause i love him.<3 but also the amount of time i’ve spent thinking about this concept is embarrassing. like honestly though, think about it! imagine how difficult it would be to have to turn down a hero, especially if they’ve saved your life. whether it’s intentional or not, there is such an odd power dynamic there and it would be difficult to not feel as if you owed them. trying to deny them would likely feel impossible, even if you were in love with someone else, ya know?? i feel like anyone would start to resent them and lead to them making poor choices. and how freaking fine dane dehaan is, i do not condone cheating. but gosh. dane <3

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse: I may have activated my own trap card

Spoilers for a movie that's two months old and also out on home release.

So, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr (Spider-India), and Hobie (Spider-Punk) all seem to have modern left-wing politics, though Gwen's got edited out. Hobie's introduction specifically says he hates "fascists", which carries over from the original comics.

By the time Hobie came around, I assumed he was just another poser, cooler than the hero rival character, expressing generic leftie politics, and his punk ethos wasn't sincere.

Which is exactly what the writers wanted me to think.

Not only is Hobie perfectly sincere about being anti-authoritarian, but he's been helping Miles since before they even met. He's been blatantly stealing junk from the Spider Society to build his own universe-jumping watch, and disguising it as petty vandalism.

He even tries to talk Miles out of trying to join the Spider-Society before the reveal that Miles himself is an anomaly, and the SS (geddit?) tries to detain Miles.

When Hobie says he's against authoritarianism, he really means it.

Speaking of the left-wing politics, Miles has a "#BLM" pin on his bag. It's very visible while he sits next to his dad.

Who's a cop.

(TANGENT: A few years ago, someone drew a stupid, very bad comic where Spider-Man (Peter Parker) was a) black, b) hated cops, and c) assaulted and subdued riot cops when they asked him for help.

That the comic didn't even show the riot cops were wrong. We were just supposed to assume they deserve to be left to the mercy of an angry mob.

Also, in this comic, Uncle Ben was killed by a cop, not a random thug who Spidey could've stopped but chose not to. Which makes me wonder how that would shake out.

It's kind of weird for someone to look at a character who's about personal responsibility to an unhealthy degree, and use him to express their collectivist anti-cop terrorism fantasies. That, or they didn't think through their fantasies.)

During Spider-India's opening, Miles says "I love Chai Tea!" And Pavitr goes on a rant about how "Chai" means "tea". Later on, The Spot says he's been on a "journey of self-discovery", and Pavitr basically says he's racist.

Which is a tad ironic, because Spot is literally white. And also because Pavitr is the one making the racist assumptions.

And I personally go to a church - in England - that has a lot of non-white non-British people. Mostly Africans. And me, of course. I wonder if any Asians ever went on a journey of self discovery to South London.

And I don't just mean as a cab driver.

"Wait, SYABM, didn't you move to the UK for self-discovery?"

W-well, yes, partially.

Aside: I made the mistake of watching a Youtube video with the Chai Tea joke, and then I looked at the comments.

One guy said "tfw when Twitter users write a movie". An idiot (with much more upvotes) said "bro out here wanting blatant racism in movies".

...When the whole point of the joke is that the racism is not blatant.

It's only "blatant" if you're insufferably Twitterized. There are loads of redundant phrasings in English, like "ATM machine", and words often shift when they're adopted from other languages.

Also, "I dislike this joke" is not the same as "I want racism in this movie", when the "racism" in the movie is only there so it could be mocked.

One of the issues with putting real world movements in worlds that are drastically different - it's one of the main selling points of the franchise - is that it may seem odd that those movements exist in very similar form to the IRL version.

For example, Miles supports BLM in both his video game, and this. Which makes me think "did Trayvon Martin get shot in Florida? How about Mike Brown? Wouldn't the existence of supervillains throw things into a new perspective?"

Did I mention the giant George Floyd-style "REST IN POWER" mural to Miles' dead uncle? I cringed at that in the Wakanda Forever trailer, and I rolled my eyes at it here.

Floyd wasn't a saintly martyr, he was an unlucky violent thug.

Also, Aaron was a supervillain killed by another bad guy who nearly destroyed the city, not a cop.

Also, this is at a party to celebrate how Miles' dad is about to be promoted. Assuming Floyd died and the 2020 protests/riots also happened in Miles' universe, then it seems a tad tasteless to have a mural inspired by an anti-cop movement overlooking it, even if the party is not full of cops.

Spider-India lives in "Mumbattan".

The people who settled the Manhattan area were originally Indian. But the other type of Indian. The Indians we're not supposed to call Indians anymore.

The name "Manhattan" is even Native American.

The first permanent settlement was Dutch. Then the English got it. I guess the English could've shipped Indians to the other side of the world and eventually ceded the area to them, or maybe in this world India was a world-conquering superpower and Mumbattan is the result of...importing Native Americans?

Which would make Pavitr's complaint that "the British stole all of our stuff and put it in their museums" seem a tad hypocritical.

Of course, since I wrote all that, someone reminded me that Pavitr explicitly says the joint is in India.

"SYABM," you say, "you're overthinking this."

Yes, I am. Because the filmmakers didn't think it through. If you want to use ha-ha-funny to make a serious point, you invite examination of that point.

Miles (as Spidey) now works with his dad, though he disguises his voice. At one point, Miles tells his father that men bottle up mental health issues.

This is true (and ironic, considering Miles is hiding who he is from Jeff), but it's not the first time I've seen some progressive work try to address men's issues in an very awkward way. At least here, it's played for comedy.

Also, seems a tad hypocritical coming from a guy who wears a "#BLM" pin in the presence of his cop father.

Also, if you work the timeline, that would mean Miles was about 7 or 6 when BLM started. Which means he's gone most of his life knowing nothing else.

There was a controversy over a "protect trans kids" trans flag in Gwen's room, which was apparently edited out.

IMO, it seems a tad strange for a girl who feels estranged from everyone in her world to join a social movement, but what do I know? Maybe it was there before then.

Some people came to the extremely logical conclusion that Gwen herself is trans. Even though she's distinctly physically feminine and possibly too young for puberty blockers depending on Earth 65′s laws.

Like the "oh great, it's Liv" shippers, people are reaching really hard to see what they want to see.

Some people have said that Gwen's issues with her dad and herself seem awfully similar to the issues LGBTQIA2S+ kids go through.

Gee, it's not like, y'know, feeling estranged from one's family is a common theme in fiction about teenagers and superhero, and the whole "superpowers = minority" thing has been done to death for most of the past century.

Perhaps most notably - and clumsily - in X-Men.

I'm not saying this wasn't the intended subtext. I'm saying if it was, it would just be really, really cliche.

There's this recurring theme of people telling miles "how [his] story is supposed to go".

When he's at a meeting with his parents and his guidance counselor, the lady says his story of being a black-Latino son of an immigrant would sound great in the college application letters. His mom is a tad miffed, given that they're a) solidly middle class, and b) as a Puerto Rican, she considers herself American.

Miguel (Spider-Man 2099) doesn't want Miles in the multiversal council of Spiders, because Miles was bitten by the radioactive spider from a different universe. Which is why his local Spider-Man died, and the spider's home dimension has no Spider-Man.

Also, Miguel is fixated on "canon events". The idea that there are certain things, especially tragedies, that have to happen to Spiders, or their entire universe falls apart.

And he knows this, because he tried to take over for a version of him that got shot dead by a thug. Tried to raise his daughter.

And he watched as the universe collapsed in front of him.

So he's projecting his own guilt onto Miles, a tad.

According to TVtropes and other sources, this was actually about the people who didn't accept Miles as a replacement Spidey, possibly out of racism.

Yeah, that's real hard-hitting topical meta-commentary about a character who debuted 12 years ago. 8 years when the first movie came out.

I'd also like to point out that despite stereotypes of comic book fans, certain minority successors to banner superheros have been fairly well-received. Like Jaime Reyes, or Cassandra Cain.

(Note: I wrote that before the Blue Beetle movie came out. And flopped.)

And, of course, loads of people like Miles specifically because he's a minority Spidey, which is also racist, just from the other direction. In fact, a lot of his fans seem to forget the "Latino" part of "Afro-Latino". From what little I've seen of Miles early comics, they did actually put strong emphasis on his race.

I also suspect the filmmakers may be misinterpreting the usual successor knee-jerk reactions

as racism. If you're using an established brand name for your new hero, you're creating some expectations.

Also, you know the most popular meme about regular Spidey that I see? That Marvel's writers just keep making him suffer and don't want him to actually develop. Which would kinda make Marvel closer to Team Miguel than Team Miles.

Miles also gripes that Miguel is letting "some algorithm" tell him what to do. While I agree with the sentiment, I'd like to point out that, again, Miles supports BLM.

A movement popularized by an algorithm.

A movement made up of narratives and assumptions.

A movement which has never proven a single incident was because of racism.

During the big chase scene, we see a Spider girl in a wheelchair, aka Sun-Spider. She's from the comics. Same initiative that gave us "Web-Weaver".

Who is, of course, an extremely effete gay fashion designer Spidey. I kinda like his outfit, though the Spider-eyes with eyelashes is a little too far.

And Sun-Spider seems exactly like a character a stereotypical 90s executive and focus group would come up with. Down to the backward baseball cap.

(Turns out she's Dayn Broder's actual Spider-Sona.)

Also, while I was looking up that one black and white Spider who said "nowhere to run" (Metro-Spider, played by record producer Metro Boomin [/sic]), I found out that Aunt May's full name is "Maybelle", not just "May". TIL.

There's a bit of a double standard with this version of Spider-Woman, who's black and pregnant. -People in the movie - including Peter B - regularly point out how Peter B endangering his infant daughter Mayday by taking her along with him. But for some reason, nobody says a word about Jessica, who's an active-duty stunt-biking superhero.

Even regular motorbiking can be dangerous for pregnant women.

In fact, the movie portrays this as heroic and impressive. When Gwen sees  Jess is preggos, she asks if Jess can adopt her.

Not to mention the whole "afro and hoop earrings" thing, which seem like a bad idea for a type of hero who often gets into melee combat, even with Spider-Sense.

Yes, I'm aware that female heroes, including the Spider-Ladies, often have exposed hair. It's a genre convention. Incidentally, it was nice to see Batwoman wore a detachable decoy wig in the comics. Some bad guy tries to grab it in a fight? It comes right off.

Also, Jess doesn't have much actual character.

Being pregnant is not a character trait. In fact, her only real traits are basically "cool but stern sassy mentor", to contrast with Peter B. -Incidentally, someone on TVtropes pointed out the double standard. And when I saw the page again, a page-camper had deleted it, with no explanation.

Guess they couldn't stand someone pointing out the flaws of their waifu.

(One) Spider-UK in this movie is Muslim. I know she's Muslim because she wears a Spider-themed headdress. Note that regular Marvel 616 has a muslim lady Spider-UK, but her name is Zarina Zahari and she doesn't wear a hijabi.

(Also, she could be mistaken for Ms. Marvel.)

ms marvel.jpg

You might be thinking "wait, isn't a headdress impractical in a melee fight? Doesn't it give your enemy something to grab?" Yes, it is.

But so are Jess's earrings, afro, and being pregnant, so clearly there's a lot of artistic license going on.

Maybe it's partially tearaway, like Batman's cape.

I gotta wonder about the religious rules of wearing a head covering over a mask that *already* covers your entire head. Did she go see her imam and go "Okay, I have a really weird question..."

Come to think, Spidey is usually slim, but a lot of lady Spideys in this movie seemed to have wide hips. Including muscular ladies. Kris Anka's concept art goes really hard on wide hips. I don't know why. Stronger, faster character reads during the big chase?

I guess Spiders could be expected to have strong legs.

BOTTOM LINE:

I liked the movie overall, though the progressive bits made me roll my eyes a little. I...want to see the third one, with reservations.

[irlcades]

parksborn rambling <3

(this was so rushed so if theres inconsistencies or things don't make sense, thats why)

nobody in harry's life had ever given him proof that they loved him. his father always showed him the exact opposite of love, preferring to spend his time berating harry for every little thing, never failing to remind him how much of a disappointment he is, how unworthy he is of being part of the osborn legacy. his mother did love him, but she was gone before harry could even understand what the word meant.

the countless flings he had, the partners who claimed they didn't want him for his money, just him (but who would ever really want harry for anything but his money and status?), had cried and moaned out 'i love you' as they kissed their way down his body, only to leave before harry woke the next morning. and harry was fine with that. he was happy, as long as he got to be held and cared for and worshiped even if it was just a moment of fleeting desire and desperation, even if it was just pretend.

after getting out of the hell that was boarding school, he was quick to start gallivanting all over the world, never staying in one place for long, before moving onto the next. he met more people, had more hookups that left him battered and bruised the next day (which, again, was fine, because he was realizing that maybe he didn't deserve to be treated gently), and drank more than he ever had in the past. and his life was Okay.

and then norman osborn was dying, and asking his one and only son to come back home to see him. harry didn't want to go (he did want to go, more than anything, to see if maybe he would finally get an apology or at least any positive acknowledgment from his dear old dad), but he begrudgingly said yes, that he'll be there in the next 48 hours.

the reunion, obviously, did not go as he had hoped. while he had prayed that maybe he would get a sign that norman did actually care about him, all he got was the usual disappointment spiel, and the news that he too had the same disease norman was on his deathbed for. harry wanted to cry, but he wouldn't. he's not sure he could, especially in front of norman.

norman dies shortly after harry leaves, and he's immediately thrust into meeting after meeting since he is the new ceo of oscorp, and this whole mess of a company is his to figure out now. and he's tired, just wants to relax, maybe chug a few bottles of whiskey and─

peter parker wants to see him.

he's skeptical at first, of course he is, his thoughts immediately going to 'maybe he just wants money, he probably doesn't even wanna see me, just wants to see how much i'll give him'.

and he's wrong. he is so wrong.

because this beautiful, beautiful boy (harry's not ashamed to admit that yes, he's only aware of his attraction to men because of peter) in front of him is asking how he is, if he's okay, that he's here for him, and harry wants to turn him away. because he knows peter will stop being worried and stop caring once he realizes how rotten and broken harry is. but he doesn't.

harry gets his best friend back, at least for a little, before 'the osborn curse' is the only thing going through his mind.

they fight, harry begging peter to get spider-man's blood because 'that's the only thing that can save me pete please', peter refusing because 'what if it doesn't? we don't know that it will, and i'm not taking that chance. not with you'.

they kiss. they don't talk about it.

the situation just gets more and more messed up, spider-man visits him, refuses to give harry his blood, harry has a breakdown, discovers that the people at oscorp are fucking insane, using his name for experiments he supposedly approved of, then they want him out, planning to overthrow him as ceo of his own goddamn company.

he loses his mind again, turns into this monster in an attempt to save himself (he's pretty sure he killed someone in the process), and peter's spider-man, and peter's ex-girlfriend is here, and he almost kills her, and then everything just stops.

it's apparently a week later when he comes to again. he's in a room that's too fucking bright, a hospital room he assumes, and he's hooked up to a variety of machines. and peter's asleep in the chair next to the bed harry's in, their hands intertwined.

it takes harry a minute to find his voice, a whole minute just to pathetically croak out, 'peter?'

peter wakes, makes eye contact with harry for the first time in what feels like forever, and just breaks.

'fuck, you're awake. oh my god, har, they didn't know if you'd wake up, and i was so scared, because i really can't lose you, man. not again, 'cause i just got you back, and i missed you more than anything, and i'm sorry for everything that happened, but you're cured now, which is good, and you're gonna be okay and─"

peter eventually runs out of breath from rambling, and harry lets out a wheezy laugh.

'missed you too, pete.'

peter smiles at him, harry smiles back.

they kiss. and they kiss again. and again. and again. and again. and again. and again until they are just laughing against eachother's lips, harry pulling away to look at peter.

peter stares right back at him, cupping his cheek, his smile never leaving his face.

'i love you. so much. so fucking much, har. don't want you to leave ever again.'

and harry tenses. because people have said it before, and have never meant it. but something about peter makes him want to believe what he's saying.

'are you sure? 'cause dude, i'm a fucking mess, and─'

peter kisses him again, shutting harry up. it's a longer kiss than just their pecks from before, a kiss that if it could be translated into words would say,

'i'm sure. i'm here. i love you.'

peter pulls away this time, resting his forehead against harry's.

'i'm 100% sure, i swear, i've never been more sure of anything ever. and i'm gonna spend the rest of my life proving that to you, okay?'

it's not much of a question, more of a promise, one that peter's forever going to keep.

'okay.'

it doesn't matter to peter that it takes years for harry to fully believe it, that it takes him two to say it back, that it takes him ten to say yes to peter's marriage proposals, that it takes him fifteen to be ready to start a family. the only thing that matters is harry osborn is loved, and he knows it.