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blushing-starker · 3 years

Text

Hard to get, easy to keep

for the amazing @starkerfestivals kinktober prompts. I did lingerie, candy kink and just the tip. nsfw starker, dirty talk, pete's nineteen here but he enthusiastically consents, praise kink, slight feminization, blow jobs, referenced fingering and handjobs. you know, just a normal day writing porn with feels as one does ;)

p.s i might make this a series, but that depends on the feedback and work

-----

He's not even sure how it happens. Or, you know, what it is that happens. It was supposed to be simple; young reporter for The Daily Bugle wanted an interview. Ok, yeah, that's normal. Tony has ten reporters that circle him like vultures whenever he steps out of his mansion. The difference was the kid they sent him, because, by the way, he's a kid. Nineteen years old. Still in high school. Happy nearly had a heart attack when he first saw the kid. Anyway, difference is that this kid is beautiful.

Now, before you get your pitchforks out, Tony knows it's objectively wrong to do a double take in the middle of a party he's hosting because of a child. He also knows he's a Stark and when has a Stark not tempted fate? Or the police? Exactly, so he figured, fine, let the kid have his fifteen minutes of Tony Stark and he can have fifteen minutes of internally debating the pros and cons of fucking someone that's not even twenty years old yet.

But then Rhodey proposes to Pepper and what is he going to do, coax a kid into his bed while his best friends get engaged? No. Obviously. Unfortunately. So he tells Happy to plan a rain check. Poor kid went to Miami when he lives in Queens; he deserves a rain check and a flight in Tony's jet for when he gets back. Great, they schedule a meeting in Miami in two weeks.

Obadiah Stane attempts to form a coup, steal the company and ruin Rhodey's and Pepper's engagement party on the same day. Alrighty, an online meeting, then.

Peter has finals on the day they set out and can't be excused. Yet another painful reminder that he's lusting after a school boy still in puberty.

Tony Stark says fuck it like Tony Stark usually does and goes to New York.

Drops by the kid's apartment, woos the aunt and bam. Peter's luggage is ready by the time the kid comes stumbling home, arms bravely trying to carry what looks like a million magazines, journals, newspapers and printed articles. All about him. When they lock eyes, every single sheet of paper gets dumped on the living room couch.

"Hey, kiddo. Figured I'd bring myself to Queens for our interview, meet the famous aunt and wait for you here. But then May tells me you've had a rough week, so you and I are going on a road trip. My family has a cabin up north, just a couple hours from here. We can do your interview and discuss an internship at the company on the way there. Stark Industries is always looking for young talent and May and I agree: you've got talent, Pete."

May basically throws her nephew out of the apartment after making him promise to take this opportunity and have fun. They're on the highway five minutes later.

-----

Still feel like he only wants to fuck the kid? Well, he does want to fuck the kid, but Tony Stark doesn't sleep with stupid people. He's read all of Peter's articles from the Bugle, his essays from the high school newspaper and some of his work for his classes. It wasn't that hard to break into Midtown; Jarvis actually scoffed when Tony asked him to get into such a simple system.

The kid is clever, sarcastic, sharp and undeniably talented. A little rough around the edges, but who isn't at that age? If the kid doesn't want what he's offering, that's ok. If he only wants the internship, done deal. Tony's morals may be a bit sketchy, but he's not so sketchy he's going to force himself onto a kid.

And you know what? Sleeping with Peter is in the back of his mind during the first half of the ride. His questions aren't offensive or blunt, but they sure as hell don't beat around the bush. Tony actually has to pause and consider some of them a bit more deeply before answering. The whiskey helps with the unexpected case of nerves (him, nervous about flirting? His dad would keel over if he were alive.) and soon enough they're done with the prompt questions and improvising.

"At the party, the one in Miami, I saw Miss Potts getting engaged with Mr Rhodes. That must be very exciting, something to look forward to after everything that's happened. Do you think it'll help with morale, planning a wedding? If the company is getting involved."

Tony narrows his eyes at the kid, can't quite figure out his line of questioning. He takes a sip of his drink and reclines back in his seat.

"Honestly, we haven't discussed the idea of the company officially getting involved with the wedding. Pep, as you know, is a very serious CEO and I doubt she'd want to make that move. She's the type of person that would think of it as taking advantage of her job and the company's resources. Obviously, I'm going to go behind their backs and plan a few surprises. With my family money, though. Everyone loves Pep, but she'd feel uncomfortable if I intervened with the company name. I can respect that. There's no way in hell I'm letting them honeymoon in the United States, though. I will forcibly put them on a plane to Europe for that, if I have to."

Peter laughs and Jesus, that sound shouldn't be so pleasing to hear. " I look forward to taking those pictures, Mr Stark. I'm sure they'll be hilarious."

"Taking the pictures?"

"Oh, yeah! I got promoted to a photo journalist. The interview with you was scheduled before the change, though, so you don't have to worry about that."

And look at that, thoughtful, too. Tony hates paparazzi. "I appreciate that, Peter. Just for that, I'll give you the pictures for free."

He will. He's a Stark; the Bugle couldn't buy them even if they had the same budget as the Times.

Peter fidgets, toys with his glasses. Tony has the sudden urge to paint them white, watch as Peter blinks up at him from the floor and asks him, ever so nicely, if he could please remove them so he could lick Tony's dick clean without having them in the way. Tony downs his drink in one go and tries to remember how a Holy Mary prayer goes.

"You know, I was a bit surprised when I saw the engagement. I thought you were, um, involved with them. I mean, one of them, not the two of them together. That would be, not bad, obviously. Just unexpected, I guess? I hadn't thought of them as that type of couple in that ... context."

The words are out of his mouth before he can properly process them and he's never been more grateful to Pepper for suggesting he get a sound proof backseat.

"So you've thought of me, in that context?" Peter goes pink. Hello Kitty pink. Like, as pink as the goddamn Pink store. Strawberry ice cream pink. Peter wearing pink lingerie and drenched in strawberry ice cream, lollipop between pretty pink cupid bow's lips and Sweethearts littered over a flushed body.

Yes, he has a fucking candy kink; blame Jarvis 1.0 for not letting him steal sweets from his mom's hidden jar in the kitchen.

Still, that was bad, Tony. Bad, bad, possibly expensive sexual harassment lawsuit bad.

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate-"

"No, I shouldn't have asked like that-"

"That wasn't even in the top ten worst questions reporters have asked me-"

"That doesn't mean I can ask something private like that-"

"It's fine, really, Pete-"

"I mean, if I did ask something private, it'd be only fair you ask me something, too-"

"Uh, not really, since you're a teenage reporter-"

"I'm nineteen-"

"That's not exactly a great card to throw, kid-"

"It's true, though! I'm an adult-"

"I shouldn't have asked that either way, Peter-"

"But it's true. I have. Thought of you. In that context. Often."

Great. Now Tony's going pink.

"I'm going to ask you something, Peter. You can not answer and we'll pretend this latter half of the ride never happened; your internship intact and your job done for the paper."

Peter bites his lip, peers up at him tentatively. Tony needs a bottle of whiskey right about now. "Or?"

"Or you answer truthfully. Your choice. I'm good either way, ok? I need to know you understand that one or the other, you have a choice in this, alright."

"I understand."

"You do? Say it back to me."

The kid's breathing hitches. Like something out of the romance novels Jarvis' wife used to read in the living room while Tony tinkered with DUM-E. Like Peter enjoys Tony telling him what to do. The same way Tony enjoys telling him what to do.

The hole is just getting bigger and bigger and he hasn't stopped digging, huh?

"I can not answer and there won't be any repercussions."

"Good. Nice use of vocabulary. Keep going."

"My internship will be ok and I'll have enough material for the Bugle. Or I can answer honestly. I have a choice in both."

"Fantastic job, Peter," he shivers, actually shivers, Jesus Christ on a bike, "now the question. When you were in Miami, were you already thinking of me in that context?"

He's expecting a punch. Maybe a slap, the kid looks more like a damsel in distress type and no, no, absolutely not going down the road of a roleplay starring shy, virginal princess Peter and rogue bard Tony desperately seeking to discover what's under long gowns.

(Peter in a pink cheerleading outfit, blushing wildly and gently licking him like a kitten, a bit awkward but determined to distract his boyfriend during a pregame ritual.)

(Peter wrapped in pretty bows and sheer lace, rose petals in his hair and hickies all over. Soft handcuffs pining his hands to the headboard, but legs free to scramble over silk sheets as the big bad wolf eats him up. His cute dick, who is he kidding, of course the kid has a cute cock, trapped in a metal cage and the key tucked away in Tony's garage. Laid down like a feast for Tony to devour.)

(Peter with maple syrup running down a pale chest, whiskey pooling in the dips of his hips, cotton candy melting over toned thighs and caramel drizzled over such beautiful lips.)

(PeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeter)

Tony snaps out of it and steals two bottles of water from the mini-fridge, gives one to Peter.

They chug them down, both of them flustered and looking away. "I was. I was actually planning on doing something about it, but with the engagement and then my finals. I figured I lost my chance."

"And the extremely high age gap doesn't bother you?"

Peter shrugs, pushes his glasses up his nose. "I'm an adult. I'm still in high school because we moved to New York and the school decided I had to repeat a grade. I have my own income, I'm already getting scholarship offers from a few colleges. Yeah, somethings are bound to be different, but that doesn't really change my feelings. Honestly? I thought, if I'm going to have my first one night stand-"

"Might as well be with Tony Stark?"

"No, might as well be with someone who's not going to talk about it to the entire school and who takes it seriously. I've had friends who've dated a classmate and it never ends well."

"So, you want sex. With me."

"I'd, I'd like to try having more than sex with you. But, I mean, if it's just sex on the table, then yeah, definitely. Absolutely, Mr Stark."

"Ok."

"Ok? That's it?"

"Kid, if I think about it too hard, I'm going to stop the car and then ask Happy to hit me with the bat we keep in the trunk. Do you consent to sex and will you stop me if anything is uncomfortable?"

"I do."

"Great. I'm thinking sex first and then we give dating a try, how's that sound?"

"Um, yeah. I'm not really sure this isn't a dream."

"Oh, me neither. I stopped believing this is happening when you asked me about Pep and Rhodes."

-----

"Now that my timeline is clear and my conscience feels less like a train wreck, when are we going to stop this hard to get dance, Parker?"

Tony delights in the way the kid's eyes widen, how he visibly flushes when they literally just finished talking about this five minutes ago.

(They took a break. Stopped the car, stretched. Tony screamed into Happy's shoulder. Peter laid down and stared at the sky. Happy sighed and called Pepper to let her know they'd need to keep away the nosy reporters for a while. They all collectively decided to ignore each other while trudging back inside the car. It's fine, Peter's fine, he's fine. It's fine.)

"How about now?" It's the most tentative question Tony has been asked and a little girl once asked him if he was going to become her new daddy the morning after he broke her mom's bed.

"Yeah, you know what? I completely agree."

Tony takes off his sunglasses, makes sure the carpet on the car floor isn't too dirty. These are tailored pants, after all.

"You know you can always say no, right?"

"I do, Mr Stark." Tony smiles, can't believe this kid landed on his lap.

"Unless it's a thing for you, you can call me Tony, Pete."

That cute blush again. God, that's going on his spank bank for the rest of his life. "I, um, I think it's a thing. If that's ok with you?"

"I can definitely get used to it. Now do me a favor, Pete," the kid looks at him, eyes big and body leaning forward like he's desperate to follow orders," spread your legs for me, honey." Peter's legs nearly reach the doors at their sides and Tony thanks whatever god made it so that his new lover is flexible as an acrobat.

"I was a gymnast when I was small."

The smirk on Tony's face could raise the dead, "Of course you were, Peter." He carefully unzips black jeans, lowers them down hips he wants to bite and freezes.

"Peter, are you wearing boxer-briefs with my name on them?" They say STARK in bold letters, gold stitching bright against the black, tight fitting fabric. It, uh, does something to him, he won't lie.

"Oh, I forgot I had them on today. To be fair, you make really comfy underwear. My best friends got them for me as a birthday gift."

"Uh huh, sure. Can you lift your shirt up, please?"

"..."

"Peter?"

"I swear I didn't plan this."

"Right. Thing is, I know this particular set. The bottoms aren't that different from what you can get at Target, or Walmart. They're normal, really. The only difference is the quality of fabric and the stitching. The top, though. The top, if I'm not mistaken, which I'm not," Tony slides his hands below Peter's shirt and drags blunt nails up a warm chest until they catch on something, grins like he just won the lottery, "is a lace halter top bralette. I know because I helped make lace this sturdy and soft.

"Peter Parker, are you wearing Stark lingerie?" It is possible that the kid's glasses fog up. It is possible that it gets him hard.

"Maybe."

"Kid, I'm gonna eat you up."

Leaving behind the top half, Tony focuses on rolling down black underwear. He moans. Actually moans when he sees Peter's dick.

It's long and thin, just like the kid. As rosy as his cheeks, too. "Such a pretty pink cock and it's all for me. Do you think you'd taste like candy if I gave some Sweethearts or ice cream? Don't answer that, I'm sure you taste sweet anyway."

Peter jolts and precum dribbles from his cock. Huh. Add dirty talk to the list then.

"Mr Stark, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He hasn't even touched the kid and already his voice is cracked and shaky.

It's a very big turn on.

"Think you can last enough for me to get a good taste of this pretty thing?" Another jolt, another drop of pearly cum spills. Oh, he's going to have so much fun with Peter.

"No."

"Hmm. What if I just lick and don't actually suck? Mind you, there isn't a limit, kid. If you wanna spill inside my mouth and then come again, I don't know, between my thighs or, " Peter whines, hips flexing erratically and lip bitten red like a cherry, "I am absolutely down for that."

"I usually get, um, you know."

"Pete, I don't know."

The kid drops his head, squirms in his seat. "I get really wet and sometimes I come a lot. Many times. In one go." He winces, probably thinks Tony is going to throw him out of the car.

"Parker, look at me. None of what you just said is a bad thing. I am even more determined to get my mouth on that gorgeous dick of yours. Would you like that?"

A nod.

"Use your words, baby."

Pink again. "Yes, Mr Stark."

Shit, now he's going to have to ask Pep to call him something else. "Good boy." Peter wraps a tight hand around himself and groans, body curling over Tony's head.

"Please, please, Mr Stark. I won't last long."

"Excellent." Tony leans down and finds out that Peter Parker does, in fact, taste like candy.

---------

When they arrive at the cabin, Tony has to pry Peter away from the sticky seat. Happy opens the door to the place, does not look at either of them, does not breathe while they're close and then sits down on the front steps, taking out his first cigarette of the month.

Tony hums as Peter wakes up, happy to carry him all the way to the master bathroom.

"How long was I out for?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"And where are we going now?"

"I am drawing you a bath so we can rinse you off and get you clean."

Peter blushes and hides his face in the crook of Tony's neck. It's fucking adorable.

"I don't need a shower; I didn't come that much."

His leather seats beg to differ. The entire car is gonna have to be washed just to get the smell out. "You came three times."

"No, I didn't it."

"Right. So you didn't come in my mouth; glorious experience, by the way. You taste like sugar. You didn't come with just the tip of my fingers in your ass-"

"I asked you to-"

"To fuck you in the back of a moving car with my sizable dick. No way I was gonna do that, especially when I didn't know how much you could handle."

"I said just the tip."

"See, I wanna know why you're pouting because that same pretty jaw of yours dropped when it was just my fingers. Oh, and then you didn't come thanks to my amazing hands."

"I never said they were amazing."

"No, you said 'oh my god, let's do that again.' And I said not until you have a shower and some food. Now, are you going to be a good boy and be easy to hold during the bath?"

Peter blinks at him, hesitatingly shrugs. "What, you don't think I'm joining you?" The smile that gets him is enough to convince Tony that yeah, Peter's going to be easy to hold onto in and out of the bath.

#starkerfestival #starkerfestivalsevents #starker nff #starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony x peter #reporter!peter #no powers!au #no iron man either #my gifs #my writing #starker dirty talk #tagging like that so tumblr doesnt delete it #starker lingerie #starker blowjobs

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littlejeanniebean · 4 years

Note

Why do I even bother? For any mcu character?

Hi sweet, lovely anon, here’s part 1 (which you may have read if you’re the same anon). for anyone who’s confused, this is a normal au where MJ is obviously the vigilante and peter is the concern significant other :)

The strange girl was right, he thought, "Why do I bother?"

He could pretend he was being a good wingman - a good friend - but the fact of the matter was that as soon as Shuri realized she could recite Liz's entire wardrobe from memory, she made sure her not-so-little crush was well on its way to becoming a solid relationship.

So Peter told Shuri he was leaving when Flash finally picked the lock on the booze cabinet. As an excuse, he said he had an appointment with Ned to build a Death Star in Minecraft, which didn't sound like a bad idea at all.

The boy didn't make it three steps from the front door before a quiet squeak came from above the porch, followed by a thud and a scrape.

"Who's there?" he looked up.

"Oh, hi," the girl with the frilly pink dress over her t-shirt and jeans waved, cell phone in hand, "I'm Michelle, but my friends would've been allowed to call me MJ."

Peter had a million questions in his mind and for some reason, the first to be spoken was, "'Would've been?'"

"Yeah," she climbed down the trellis with a little grunt, "You know, if I actually had any."

"Oh…"

MJ picked her bike up off the lawn. At least, Peter assumed it was her bike.

"Hey, you're not, like, a thief or anything, right?"

"No. I'm investigating a thief," she pointed towards the house.

"The Toomes?"

"Adrian Toomes. There are some discrepancies in his construction company's inventory. Daily Beagle got an anonymous tip and apparently, unlike a lot of other crap we get, it checks out."

"Daily Bugle?"

"Ew, no, they're a shame to the journalism community. It's Beagle. Like the dog."

"Because you guys sniff out the truth?"

"Or maybe I'm just rabid for blueberries."

Peter blinked, "Was... that a Fantastic Mr. Fox reference?"

"My entire aesthetic is a Wes Andersen film, so yes."

"So… you're working all alone?"

"Why? Do we have a problem, Jimmy Neutron?" MJ advanced on him so they were toe to toe and she was a good bit taller than he was.

"W-what?"

She pointed at his "Gotta Blast" t-shirt.

"Oh, yeah, I mean, no. No, we don't have a problem. But you could… use a lookout, maybe? Someone to make sure you don't… I don't know, fall off a roof?"

"Eh," she shrugged, rubbing her elbow, "I'm good."

He saw the blood dripping down the length of her arm and proceeded to lecture her on the precise methods of infection on a cellular level until she gave in and let him lead her back into the house for a first aid kit.

"I'm still going after him," said MJ.

"I never suggested you stop," replied Peter, "Liz doesn't have anything to do with it, though, right?"

"No, I've eliminated her and your friend who's sweet on her as suspects."

"Er, thanks, I guess?" he finished bandaging her up.

She hopped off the bathroom counter, all lanky limbs and unbothered shuffling, "What's your name, kid?"

"We're literally the same age, probably."

"I never said I wasn't a kid."

Oh, she was off-beat, alright. But there was something awfully easy about talking to her. So he said, "I'm Peter."

"I could use a good lookout, Peter."

"As long as we're not stealing anything."

MJ made no such assurances.

"Trespassing?"

The girl crossed her spindly arms.

"Anything I wouldn't want my aunt to know about?"

"Oh, please, like she's never gotten up to anything in her day!" MJ wrenched the door open and the bubblegum pop music from the party filled their ears once more.

"She -" actually, May probably had gotten up to everything in her day, "Whatever, let's go before I change my mind."

"Excellent. You're riding on the handle bars."

And so it happened that Peter stood still as a statue outside a trailer office in midtown, plain black hoodie shadowing his pale face.

"Hey, Neutron, you wouldn't happen to go to the fancy STEM high school up the block, would you?" asked MJ from inside said trailer.

"Listen, I would love to get to know you better, but maybe now isn't the time nor the place?"

"It's a simple yes or no question," she hummed.

Peter could hear more file cabinets opening and closing. They'd be there a while. "I used to."

"What happened?"

My uncle died. "I have ADHD."

"Yeah, but what happened?"

The boy shrugged. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" MJ cast the beam of her phone flashlight about the room.

"Yeah. I couldn't do anything." I was there with him and I couldn't stop it.

"The pace wasn't good?"

"Do you go there?"

"Used to," she replied, "Now I'm homeschooled."

"Do you like it?" his question was met with silence, "MJ?" still no answer, "MJ!" he hissed peeking into the trailer.

"He's stealing material from his supplier, Stain Industries, but he puts it towards like… fifteen different pro bono projects. Someone's roof here, another's basement, he re-built a homeless shelter after a fire…"

"Robin Hood, the carpenter, huh?"

"Whoever sent me the tip is onto him too. Most likely, it's someone from Stain Industries," MJ ripped a piece of paper from a notebook, "I'm going to leave him a warning to lay low for a bit or at least cover his tracks better…"

Peter looked out the window of the trailer. The night guard just completed another careless pass. He turned back to his partner in crime. "Is that supposed to be a dog?"

"It's a beagle," she told him pointedly.

"You're a great artist," he deadpanned.

"Like you could do better under pressure."

"I draw chemical models and anatomically correct comics all day, this is nothing," Peter took the ballpoint pen and drew a very convincing beagle, "Now, let's get out of here. You're taking the handle bars this time."

"Suit yourself."

He couldn't see over her head and struggled to ride in a straight line.

"Okay back there?"

Peter sighed in defeat, "I'll take the handle bars."

They switched places and made it back to Queens just shy of midnight.

"Peter, was that a girl, I saw?" in jest, May pointed out the largest window in their apartment, from which she had the perfect view of the street.

"May," he whined.

"What?" she smiled innocently before practically skipping towards him, where he was still shucking off his sneakers at the door, "Tell me, tell me, spare no details!"

"Her name is MJ and she's weird but cool. She can't draw and pedals a bike like a madwoman."

May liked her already.

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#mcu fanfiction #anon #jeannie bean gets asked #jeannie bean writes #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x michelle jones #marvel fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x zendaya #liz toomes #laura harrier #flash thompson #shuri black panther

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spiderman-homecomeme · 5 years

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Omg I just thought of something really cute for the anon that wanted parents!petermj : their son is starting kindergarten and peter dressed up as spiderman and spy on him to make sure he’s okay and mj gets Mad at him for not letting their son breathe

HI! once again!! an old prompt that has taken me a LONG ASS TIME to get out there, but I was on a roll and was I N S P I R E D !! I hope you enjoy this!!

Here’s about 1.7k of cute parent stuff bc I can’t NOT go overboard on writing

It was a day Peter had been dreading for some time now. A day he’d hoped would take just a little bit longer to come, that he’d have more time to prepare.

The first day of school.

Not his, of course.

It was Benjamin’s.

His very first day of kindergarten, to be exact. The beginning of his educational career; a long, twelve year journey; one that would hopefully guide him smoothly into the troubled world of adulthood. Monday through Friday, little Ben would be at school from about 8:40 AM to 3:00 PM, learning to read and write—though, he’d gotten a head start thanks to daycare and living with two walking brains—and hopefully take away some basic social skills from interacting with children his age. Sure, he’d had some of that experience, but those other kids were related to him. This was different.

It wasn’t like it was the first time Ben would be out of the apartment for long periods of time. MJ and Peter both had full-time jobs, so a high quality daycare was more than necessary.

But school… public school was another ball game altogether. And Peter couldn’t help the pit of dread that was swirling and sloshing in his stomach.

What if the other kids were mean to Ben? What if he had an allergic reaction to something?

(He didn’t have any allergies, doctor confirmed, but… you never know, anything was possible in kindergarten).

What if he tripped and fell on the playground during recess and broke his leg? What if all of Peter’s—Spider-Man’s enemies found out which school his kid went to and—

He didn’t want to finish that thought.

“You’re thinking way too much into this, Mother Hen,” MJ had said, grabbing her books and keys. “Don’t worry. Ben will be fine.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, Peter, okay?” She turned, finally making steady eye contact, her gaze unwavering.

He looked down, pursing his lips. “I—… I’ll try….”

If only there was a way that Peter could check up on—

Wait.

Michelle’s eyes widened slightly. “No. No no no no no I know that look. That’s your ‘bad idea’ look. Don’t you dare follow him.”

God, she could read him so well.

He sputtered. “What are you talking about? I’m not gonna follow him?? Why would I— I cannot believe you would think that… that I would do anything like that?”

Quirking a brow at him, she sighs before rolling her eyes, shaking her head as a small half-smile pulled at her lips. “You better not.”

Okay, maybe he should have been more conscious about the non-use of contractions in that sentence.

Peter Parker was many things, but a good liar wasn’t one of them.

But he didn’t technically lie when he told her he wouldn’t follow him.

Because… it wasn’t technically following. Ben had to get to school somehow, and Peter just happened to be the parent that was dropping him off. He returned home promptly after!

Putting on the suit when he gets back is just part of his perfectly normal morning/mid-afternoon routine.

And Ben’s school just happens to be on one of the routes Peter likes to take.

It was all just pure coincidence.

Spider-Man was currently perched atop the school building, super suit and all, watching quietly as his five-year-old son played on the monkey bars with a few other kids.

Good; so he was making friends!

Nothing exciting was happening, not that Peter expected it. He was only there just in case something by chance, were to… well… happen.

It was all perfectly normal.

After all, what parent would pass up the chance to check on their kids if they could do what Peter could?

All was quiet on the playground front.

When the final recess bell sounded, Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He was almost in the clear, just about to leave when he saw the tiny little hand waving up at him from the swingset, Ben’s little voice shouting, “Hi Spider-Man!”

Obviously, Peter waved back, he wasn’t a monster, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was not necessarily all that great that he was spotted.

See, Ben didn’t really understand that his dad was the Spider-Man. In his mind, they were two separate entities.

No, he hadn’t realized yet that his father was also numbers three and four on his list of favorite people in the entire world; Spider-Man and Santa Claus.

(Of course, Mom—MJ, is number one; Dad—Peter, is number two. No contest.)

Now, there is a plan to eventually tell their son. After all, his dad being a crime fighting vigilante isn’t something a parent can just… stop doing when the kid turns eight or so, letting the belief just fizzle out. It’s something that will need to be addressed soon; just, maybe not when Ben is at the age where he’s telling everyone he meets all of their family secrets.

(Okay, maybe telling the kids at daycare that his granddad has diabetes wasn’t a Spider-Man level secret, but they couldn’t take any chances.)

Peter knows that this—this little spying stunt he’s pulled—could come up later, judging by how excited Ben got when he saw the familiar red and blue suit just chilling on the roof of his school.

At this point, he’s just hoping and praying that the kids do something more exciting in class that can draw all of the attention.

Luckily for Peter, the rest of the day flies by; he stops a few shoplifters here and there, making sure to grab some pictures for the Daily Bugle while he’s at it. He makes sure to swing by home before he picks Ben up, changing into normal civilian clothes before driving over.

“Daddy!” Ben, of course, rushes to wrap his tiny arms around his father’s knees, squeezing with all of his might.

Peter laughs, bending down the best way he can to hug his son back. “Hey, little dude! How was the first day?”

“Good!” he grins. “I drew a picture!” He pulls back, fumbling with his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper, nearly every color of crayon marked all over it.

But the blue and red is unmistakable.

“It’s Spider-Man!” The little boy says proudly, holding the picture out for his dad to take.

Peter, though he begins to panic only a little on the inside, smiles back. “Very cool.”

“Yeah! I saw him today!” The way Ben positively beams up at him, giving the literal sun a run for its money, pulls at Peter’s heartstrings. But the feeling dissolves, his eyes widening slightly, as soon as he realizes what will happen Ben shows his picture to MJ.

He helps Ben put the picture back in the little bag, lowering his voice to a comically whisper. “Hey, bud, let’s not show this to Mommy right when we get home, okay? Let’s surprise her!”

Peter figures he can just hide the picture for a few days before putting it on the fridge, all to avoid any suspicion. No big deal. Piece of cake.

What MJ doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Ben, of course being five and not realizing at all what is going on, nods enthusiastically as he takes his dad’s hand.

And for a while, Peter almost thinks he’s in the clear.

He’s so close.

It’s at the dinner table though, that his own son betrays him.

“I saw Daddy at school today!” Ben says through a mouthful of spaghetti.

MJ’s fork freezes before it reaches her mouth, her eyes moving to her husband in an instant. “Oh, really?” She asks slowly.

Peter stops, eyes widening for a fraction of a second as he feels MJ’s glare burning into him.

“Yeah,” Ben nods thoroughly. “He picked me up!”

And again, the tension leaves Peter’s body as he lets the breath he’d been holding in anticipation.

A gentle smile breaks across MJ’s features as she turns her attention back to the pasta on her plate.

Whew. That was close.

“And I saw Spider-Man at recess, too!”

Shit.

Well, Peter was certainly in for it tonight.

“I wanna say I’m surprised, but honestly,” MJ had thankfully waited until Ben’s bedtime to say anything, Though, while it was good for their son, Peter was filled with every anxiety known to man waiting for this conversation. “Yeah, honestly, I’m not.”

She doesn’t seem that mad, from what he can tell.

He thinks.

Then again, he’s kind of oblivious. Has been for a while, so he could be completely wrong.

“Are you on something?” she asks, finally facing him, a brow raised in question, stare calculating. “What could have possibly made you think that spying on him was a good idea?”

“I mean, it’s not technically spying—”

“Not technically spying?”

Peter falters, suddenly feeling very small. “Well, I mean—I was just… just watching him. From the roof. And—… well… he didn’t… know… I… was there…”

“Yeah, so… spying.”

He gulps. “When you put it that way… yeah…”

“Peter,” MJ groans, running a frustrated hand over her face. “We talked about this. Literally this morning.”

“I know, I know,” He sighs, plopping himself down on the edge of the bed. “I just… got so worried. I don’t know. I know that he’s safe and all… but… It’s just so fast and—”

Maybe it was the way he seemed to shrink after that, the genuine worry and concern in his tone, or the way his eyes seemed to do that whole puppy-dog thing they always did, but… okay, MJ wasn’t made of stone.

She lets out a breath, releasing tension as she sits herself next to him, bumping her shoulder to his. “Hey, I know it’s scary. Believe me, I’m scared, too. He’s growing up… But…”

Peter looks up at her. “But?”

“You have to let the kid breathe. Let him grow. He’s gotta have a couple of non-successes before he can… well, succeed. If that makes sense.”

His lips quirk up into a smile. “Non-successes? You mean failures?”

“Hey, I’m trying to be positive. Shut up.”

He playfully nudges her, sighing again. “No, I’m kidding. I get it. I need to back off. No more helicopter Spider-Dad.”

“Not saying you can’t help him at all… Just…” she starts again, looking him dead on. “Promise me you’ll be more chill about it. And less…” She pauses, eyeing him, carefully choosing her next word. “Creepy? Maybe try that?”

He laughs at that, nodding. “Yeah. Sure. Okay. I’ll give that a shot.”

The corner of her lip quirks upward into a half-smile. “Good,” she leans in, planting a sound kiss on his lips. “Because if I hear about Spider-Man spying on our son again, there will be hell to pay.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

#spideychelle #fic #fluff!#prompt #this was late ahhh #also lol kindergarten is always so different so forgive any inaccuracies #anyway pls enjoy!!#i had fun writing this one

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boywebbed · 5 years

Photo

OH WOW A TIMELINE !

hi i’ve been on this blog for a year & a half-ish and i think it’s time that i finally write up a cohesive timeline. i’ve pulled from canon to build my own spider-man & filled in the gaps with headcanons! so ummm… here’s my mash potato spider-man.

CHILDHOOD [ AGES 5-14 ]

at age five peter is left his his aunt may & uncle ben by his parents. it doesn't dawn on him that this is for good until a bit later in life. he’d been left with his aunt & uncle for long periods of time before, so he didn’t quite process what was happening. he still remembers his parents & as he grows he still has specific memories. he can remember his mother’s hair & father’s smile — but he doesn’t know or understand why he was left until much later in life.

at ages nine to ten he begins seeing tony stark on the TV more often — he begins to love the idea of superhero’s and starts idolize tony stark. this is what starts his fascination with science/inventing things. he finds that he loves to create & is actually pretty good at doing it!

at age twelve he meets skip westcott. please see this post for more details. ( tw. csa ) he learns then what it is to use his voice, and there’s a period of disconnect that he works through with the help of his aunt & uncle. their love & support also make it really dawn on him that these are the people raising him & they people who love him like a son. it’s a concept he hadn’t really grasped prior to what happened to him.

ages thirteen to fourteen show peter’s awkward/anxious nature blooming. during this time he doesn’t have many friends & really throws himself into his schoolwork rather than going out & making friends. this is when his scientific ability starts to blossom & he finds a new idol - otto octavius. his work fascinates peter & keeps his mind busy, distracting him from peers a general disconnect from his peers. he later learns that the disconnect is caused by his anxiety & doesn’t get help for this until later in life. somewhere in this chunk of life, he also meet harry osborn, who later becomes his first true friend as well as mary-jane watson. he falls for the redhead & falls hard, a crush for her lasting throughout all of high school.

TEENAGER [ AGES 15-18 ]

age fifteen is when he’s bit by the spider that changes peter’s life. he had been along on a field trip, taking pictures for his school paper when he’s bit. the night where he gets his powers is perhaps the most hellish night of his life - his body tore itself apart from the inside & rebuilt according to whatever the venom of the spider dictated. overwhelmed by his newfound spider-senses, peter parker wonders into the streets of new york & finds out about his heightened abilities when he jumps over a car that nearly hits him. he tries to use his powers to earn money in the wrestling arena, where he is first called spider-man. he isn’t paid in full one night & lets a robber go with the man who had shorted him’s money, only to find out later that the man was to take his uncle ben’s car & shoot him in the street. his uncle dying in his arms is what drives him to use his powers for good & so he does.

at age fifteen peter starts earning a name for himself as spider-man. he wears a costume made from on sale goodwill items & takes it upon himself to protect new york city. he starts building different gadgets to help him do just that ( goggles that help him focus his vision, web shooters, ect. ) he builds a suit for himself & starts gaining the attention of the public. a video of him goes viral on the internet & spider-man catches the attention of tony stark, who recruits him for a set of events that loosely follow the MCU civil war/homecoming plot lines. i want to make a seperate post about this, but it opens doors that were previously closed. he improves his suit with the help of tony stark & starts to view himself as on the same playing field as the rest of the vigilantes he encountered.

unless we have plotted a ship for our characters, at age fifteen peter also meets the future love of his life…ruby rose ( @combatpetals )! when she’s sent by S.H.I.E.L.D to keep tabs on the spider-boy.

at age sixteen peter encounters electro for the first time. this is his first really traumatic fight - the first villain he encounters that he feels that he can’t win against. he almost dies during his first fight with the villain & has to adapt. he builds new gadgets, he fights to protect the people of new york & he wins. this is, however, the first time it really sinks in how deadly the path in life he has chosen is.

at seventeen peter parker spends his summer fighting a list of different villains. they seem to come out in response to someone like spider-man existing.

at ages seventeen to eighteen peter goes into his senior year after a summer of stopping gang wars & putting the smackdwon on crime in new york city. he’s tired but had no intention of stopping - this is when he first encounters the symbiote, which is explained in detail in this post. peter gets rid of the symbiote when he realizes how it affects his mind & that it is living by destroying his body.

at age eighteen he encounters the green goblin for the first time. this happens near the end of the symbiote arc & the two events overlap. the events of this arc are put into motion when norman osborn becomes obsessed with recreating the serum that gave spider-man his powers. when he believes he has created it, he takes it. he gains enhanced physical abilities, but the serum affects his mind & drives him temporarily crazy. peter apprehends him & he gets out of any trouble by claiming the serum affected his mind & caused him to wreak havoc ( paying off the right officials helped too. )

at age eighteen peter hangs up his suit ( temporarily ) he needs time to process all of the things that have happened over the past three years. the end of his senior year is dedicated to trying to fix grades that had slipped & get into college.

YOUNG ADULT[ AGE 19-24 ]

at age nineteen he begins college, fresh out of highschool. without the suit he feels lost & throws himself into his studies. he finds comfort in the work of otto octavius once more & gets back in touch with himself & the friends he had drifted away from near the end of his high school career. he begins to explore more of himself & uses this time for self reflection & gets a job at the daily bugle. ( though this is flexible, this is when he meets gwen stacy & they hit it off pretty quickly! they become study-buddies and begin spending more time with one another & it ends in a budding romance. )

at age twenty peter is forced to put his mask back on when wilson fisk’s grasp on the city becomes too tight. peter knows that he can’t just sit back & watch the crimelord run new york city & that no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he was still spider-man. he had a responsibility to help those around him & so he would. it’s another hallowing experience to go toe to toe with the crimelord, but he does. it shoots him back into the life of a hero & protecting the city he loves. plus, it helps that the bugle pays a bit more money for pictures of the wall crawler.

at age twenty, shortly after his confrontation with fisk he enters a relationship with gwen stacy!

at age twenty peter has to deal with the threat of fisk once more, when he get’s out of prison & resumes his place as the kingpin of new york. spider-man becomes a regular pest for the crimelord, but doesn’t get close enough to tear his operation down again for a hot second.

there’s a spot in between these two events that’s yet to be worked out; i will return to it & update it one day when i’ve had time to really think about it. just know that in this time, gwen & peter split ( maybe gwen’s death will go here, but i’m not sure yet ) & he ends up in a relationship with ruby rose.

at ages twenty-two to twenty-three peter graduates college & applies to work under his idol, otto octavius. this is followed by the events of the insomniac game, where he faces the sinister six & encounters miles morales for the first time.

between ages twenty-three to twenty-four peter starts unofficially working alongside with the avengers on bigger problems. more & more often. this is about when he starts considering the group his peers rather than his superiors.

past here is a mix of things that have yet to be completely worked out, but the shortest version of it is that peter enters a permanent relationship with ruby rose & continues his life as spider-man. sometime in his early thirties, he has his son:syl. near his mid-thirties a mutant registration act forces peter parker to unmask himself to the public, though he later regrets the decision. this timeline is very flexible & will adapt to that of my partners!

#headcanon.#this my mish mash potato spidey #but two #hhh yeah #ill add more to this as i get more worked out #but thats basically the events leading up to my main verse #where pete is 23-24 #there are other things i could add too but honestly i just havent worked them out so here are the things set in stone thanks

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themanicmagician · 6 years

Text

Short note--next chapter of “In Plain Sight” coming soon, mayhap this weekend.

Here’s a snippet below the cut if you wanna read ahead. Disclaimer, I may still edit this a bit.

QUEENS RIPPER STRIKES AGAIN

The serial killer had a name, now, courtesy of the Daily Bugle. Simple and uninventive, but it made sense. The Queens Ripper left his victims shredded—or ripped, one could say—to ribbons. A pit grew in Peter’s stomach as he read on.

Sarah Clark was a young woman, college age. She went for her habitual evening run in Flushing Meadows and didn’t come back. Park Rangers found her body the next day, her internal organs ripped out of her stomach, the indents of teeth on her ribs. The police were trying to trace the tooth marks. Hopefully, they would find a match. Fuck, the park was so close to Forest Hills—to his and May’s apartment.

Jameson also couldn’t help but get in a dig at Spider-Man’s expense. “Where is Spider-Man when you actually need him?” the paper railed. A hot shame rose in Peter at that accusation. He was trying.

“…Peter?”

His eyes jerked up from his phone.

“Whoa, didn’t mean to startle you,” Eddie apologized, as he grabbed onto the same subway pole as Peter. “I didn’t know you took this train to school too, that’s awesome!”

“Yeah.” Peter pocketed his phone. He felt exhausted and sluggish—not really up to conversation this early in the morning. But Eddie was so enthusiastic…“How’ve your classes been so far?”

“Great!” Eddie gushed, too loudly. Sleep-deprived adults on their way to work glared at the pair of them. “I really like my bio teacher.”

“Peterson?”

“Yeah!”

“Just be ready for a lot of pop quizzes. He loves giving them on Mondays. And the day you get back from holidays.” Peterson was a great teacher, but he had a bit of a devilish streak.

“Good to know. Oh! And guess what! I joined the school paper. My mom got me that camera, so I’m going to be taking pictures and working on articles for them.”

The freshman sounded giddy.

“Eddie, why didn’t you go to an art school?” His face fell, and Peter hurriedly tacked on: “I mean, you’re seriously smart. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. But it just seems like you love photography more than science, you know?”

“I want to be a journalist one day.” Eddie confessed. “I’ve always loved taking pictures. It’s like—you freeze a moment in time, that you’ll have forever. And you can share it with people that otherwise would’ve missed it, could’ve never seen it. And with everything going on in the world…we need journalists. Now, more than ever. Honest ones. But, well, you know how it is. I told my mom this and she gave me the usual adult bullshit. There’s no money in it, blah blah.” Eddie’s clouded expression cleared. He shrugged it off. “But whatever. Once I’m out of high school, it’s out of her hands.”

Their conversation then moved on to lighter topics. Peter gave Eddie tips on effective study methods, and the tics of the freshman teachers that he knew.

They parted ways once they reached the doors of Midtown Tech.

Peter sat through his classes, paying the barest amount of attention required of him. It was an honest struggle to keep his eyes open. His body ached like he’d been running all night, but he hadn’t gone on patrol at all. Maybe he was coming down with a virus or something; that’d be just his luck. He’d be chasing down crooks with a handful of tissues stuffed in the back pocket of his suit.

At lunch period, Peter took his usual seat with Ned at their table near the edge of the cafeteria. M.J. was already there, munching on an apple as she paged through a book. She acknowledged them with a glance, and went back to her reading. It was a new book from last week, he could tell by the spine. He’d have to ask how she’d liked the other one.

“Hey, guys. Can I sit here too?”

During their conversation on the train, Eddie and Peter discovered they shared the same lunch period. Eddie evidently decided to seek him out.

“Sure.” Peter liked Eddie, and who was he to deny the freshman’s hopeful look. He did hope Eddie planned on making additional friends in his own grade, though; they’d be gone in two years and Eddie wouldn’t.

Eddie beamed, and took the seat across from him and Ned. As he and Ned struck up a conversation about the newest, polarizing Star Wars movie, Peter picked at his burger and fries. Ever since the spider bite, his metabolism burned crazy fast. Normally, lunch wasn’t enough, and he had to supplement it with snacks throughout the day. But after the first Queens Ripper attack, his appetite dulled. He couldn’t shake that nauseating smell of blood and shit, the pink and red of the dead man’s exposed insides.

Peter tried to take a bite. Just a small one. He nibbled at the edge of the burger. It was more bun than patty, but still his stomach roiled.

Peter discreetly coughed the bite back out into a napkin.

The nape of his neck prickled, and his gaze whipped up to meet M.J.’s. She was watching him, and it was clear from the look on her face that she’d seen the whole thing.

“Peter—”

“Sitting with your boyfriend now, Penis?” Flash boomed. He was flanked on either side by his cronies. They all had their lunch trays in hand. Couldn’t they just sit down and eat, and not bother him? For one day? “Or is it all three of you together, is that how it works?”

Punch him.

No. His eyes squeezed shut. He was better than Flash. Just ignore him.

Eddie stammered, “We’re—We’re not—”

“Look how red his face is!” Flash taunted. His plastic tray bumped deliberately into the back of Peter’s head. “Did he suck your dick, Parker? Is that how he got his spot on the team?”

M.J. was glaring daggers at the boys, while Ned was looking to Peter for what to do, and Eddie was totally mortified. Peter just ducked his head and tried to focus on his food.

Flash, of course, couldn’t stand to be ignored.

Peter’s spider-sense raised, right before Flash dumped the contents of his lunch tray over Peter’s head. He sputtered, wiping chocolate milk from his eyes.

“Whoops. My hands slipped.”

Peter stood and whirled on Flash, and the expression on his face must’ve been pretty furious, because Flash momentarily lost his smug veneer, and flinched back.

Punch him.

No.

Feeling the eyes of the whole cafeteria upon him, Peter stalked off. His friends might’ve said something, but he was too consumed by the rage-induced headache thundering in his skull.

#writing update #in plain sight #peter parker #eddie brock

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crazysupernovadream · 7 years

Text

Riddle of Nature

"Hugo looks up the sky,it seems like a doomed mind in denial."-inspired from Necromancer.

Waves roared into the sands of Algrave,one of the finest sand beaches in Europe.It lies to southern tip of Portugal. Hugo Alves,the third child of Alves Mountinho glazed at the distant tides expressionless.Sun has risen in the far East,and another day written to history.

" There is no pattern in life,everything is chaos",Hugo screamed.

Julio started whining.The furry Tibetan Spaniel also known as Tibbie,a little gift from his uncle on his 10th birthday ,his companion since.He stood 10 inches high at the shoulders and weighed around 11 pounds,yet the little breed feared sound of crackers and loud voices.

"Stop it Julio.Stop it.You are irritating me", shouted Hugo and they walked back from the beach.

Algrave has many Moorish castles and traditional villages.Alfredo lived in an olden stone cottage in Sagres,the south west coast of Algrave. Hugo knocks at the door hard. " Grandpa its me". " Wait up child".Alfredo opens the door with a lantern in his hand. Hugo slams the door behind and drops into the broken couch.The house was never the way it is now, when Camilla was around.Love of his life.She left him alone, in this world 10 yrs back and a day hasn't past since not thinking of her.Alfredo believes, if not in this world,in another they will live together for ever.

Hugo looks at his grandpa in desperation. " Success cannot elude a trier for long,my boy.Like a prey eluding cheetah's claws,it beats you again and again.But remember its round the corner. Don’t give up so easy." "That was a mistake I made",Alfredo sighs and looks at Camilla's photo hanging on the wall."But you shouldn't". " I made some bread and Bacalhau for you".Bacalhau, dried, salted cod is one of the national dishes of Portugal. "Eat and go home before its too late.I don’t want your Dad on my doorsteps".

Alves picks 2 surf boards and tucks it into his 1962 model Green Ford F-250 pick up truck.The only ancestral asset he inherited from his father Alfredo,or the only thing Alfredo could give his son.With the exception of some torn interior upholstery and few car body paint scratches,truck was well maintained. Alfredo runs a Surf shop in Praia de Salema Beach in Salema,a village which is home to a number of fishermen who still cast their Chinese nets daily. "Elisa...Elisa.Get me those helmets,will you?.Where is Ema?" asks Alves. The 2 elder sisters of Hugo,runs a Flower shop in Vila do Bispo,Salema. With onset of Spring western Atlantic coast from Sagres to Odeceixe looked like a Vincent van Gogh's piece of art,the scenery is breathtaking.

"She left ,Pai",shouts Elisa from the kitchen."Where?" "To deliver a bouquet to Mrs Penelope." "Did she eat something?" "não." "Am ready for work",Alves slams the car hood. "Soup will be ready in a minute." "Hugo,its 8.Get up.Let me fix breakfast for you",Elisa pulls out the blanket form Hugo's coat. Elisa was more of a mother to him than a sister.When Diane left Alves ,Hugo was 3.They had their differences,enough to make a huge difference in any kid with estranged parents. " If he doesn't want to go to Lisbon,let him come to Surf shop.I wont let him roam in these beaches with his dog and of no use to family.",said Alves

Hugo picks up a shell washed up onto the beach,gives a close look into the surface of the shell.Picks up another one with more prominent design. Throws the other one back to the sea,to be brought back again by the waves. Julio is playing with the crabs.Jumping and barking,while crabs finding their way back to their crabitats in one piece.He keeps poking every tiny drilled holes on his way. "Vamos(lets go),Julio,Go fetch this one", throws a shell as far he could.

Far away one could see a bunch of boys playing beach football.Hugo loved football like any other Portuguese,but he never played the game.For that matter,any game. He walked towards them. "Antonio with the ball on to the left,dribbles across the full back and a beautiful cross into the box, and that's Claudio",voice raising.." who takes it on his chest turns around, a volley and he drills it into the net , that's' GOAAAAAAAAL..GOAL" screams Erico,who entertained the local kids with his live commentary of the game. "Sporting Salema lead by a goal". Then came Bicycle style goal celebration from Claudio the goalscorer, Hugo's best friend since primary school. "lindo maravilhoso,Claudio",Hugo appreciates his friend. "Obrigado...amigo",Claudio shouts back. "You want to play ball?" asks Antonio with a teasing voice.Hugo stares at him "Leave him alone",Claudio pulls back Antonio.Julio started barking "Oh! I dont want to provoke your superior intellect by begging you to play this silly game,am sorry",laughs Antonio." You better stop Anton" Hugo did not say a word,he walked past an sat with the kids.He never liked to play this game,but he loved watching it,except for the fact he should suffer through Antonio's bullies every time. Unlike others Hugo was not thrilled when a goal was scored,he was thrilled to know how a goal was scored.He carried a pencil and a piece of paper all time. Like a coach, who pictures a game strategy on a white board,he notes each and every move the team makes and their opponents.He marks each and every player on the field, how they move ,where do they pass the ball to ,where the striker is,and everything on the field.He was so meticulous.He captured them from end to end.At the end of the game ,he sat alone and looked at them -for patterns and repetitions.

Its early Sunday morning.Trees are all covered in frost,and its foggy everywhere .As sun emerged over the horizon,light pierced in through the greenish blue leaves of Eucalyptus.The first rays of the morning sun pierced into the stained glass window of the bedroom.The window depicted a Bullfight -with a Bull and the Forcados, which shined like a painting on a wall.Its Bullfighting day -the most celebrated event of any country influenced by Spanish culture -on Thursdays and Sundays from Easter through October . Bullfighting is a revered part of a culture and not a sport. Compared to Spanish bullfighting it may seem Portuguese style of bullfighting humane or less cruel since the bull will see another day light. Alfredo was one among a few who came forward in the past to ban the public killing of bulls,even though later it was legalized by the government.

Usually the seats in the bullring are steps of stone or concrete,so Alfredo rented 3 cushions. "Come its Puerto (door) 1", shouts Ema, grabs the ticket from Hugo's hand ," its 1st row ,Numero 7,8,9",she continued. Crowd started flowing in,and people are squeezed against other people on all sides. They have the sun section,the cheapest ones.They sat on the nearest stand to the arena,close to ground level. In front of them is the staging area,also called the alley.The central arena is surrounded by the alley,a place where bull fighters takes shelter once they are tired of messing with the bull.A wooden wall,around 150 cm thick, separates the arena from the alley.There are small splits in these walls that allow humans to get through,but are too narrow for a bull.

Following the age old tradition,the event started with a bugle sound ,and came a huge roar from the crowd showing excitement. Hugo was sitting beside his grandpa and sister Ema. It excites him to see how the toureiro(Matadores) go head on with a raging bull,risking his life. " Where do they get the courage,grandpa?" "Sometimes poverty and hunger are so excruciating and agonizing ,this could be one's best resort to earn his daily bread",replied Alfredo.

After 20 minutes ,the first bull fight is over and time for the second.Suddenly Hugo found himself on the alley.He slipped. All he could see on the corridor was bullfighters running in and out to the arena.Alfredo and Ema didn't notice that Hugo has gone down.All of a sudden a bull jumped over the wall into the alley,and there was mayhem and disorder.The angry animal was raging towards Hugo,he could already feel the pain he is about to suffer,he ran through the alley,bystanders started shouting. "A kid has fallen down,somebody help...ajude..ajude"

Then came another bull ,from the other side.Seeing this Hugo stepped on the foothold in the wall and jumped.For a moment,his heart skipped,next second his adrenaline was shooting up.He was never inside an arena before in his life.But that was not the grounds for his heart pumping up.He could see 5 of them,and the entire crowd looking upon.He ran in circles. Metadores and Forcados tried to distract the bulls.But one animal was so determined to stab him.He blacked out. And after a while,there he is,on the ground and the bull on top of him.All he did was pray and then he shouted "No way,I can't die.I am the focal character in this story" He could feel a slimy tongue over his mouth and forehead,he opened his eyes. He is down on the floor,Julio on top of him with all the affection in the world,pouring from its mouth. "Oh,Julio, Stop.Go away.." It was bullfighting day, and rest was all a dream.

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newstfionline · 6 years

Text

Children of Stone

By Uri Avnery, Counterpunch, December 18, 2017

For God’s sake, are they crazy?

They congregate in the marketplace, boys of 15, 16 years, take stones and throw them at our soldiers, who are armed to the teeth. The soldiers shoot, sometimes over their heads, sometimes straight at them. Every day there are wounded, every few days there are dead.

What for? They do not have the slightest chance of changing the policy of the Israeli occupation. Only very rarely do the boys hit a soldier and cause him a slight injury.

Yet they go on. Why?

A friend of mine sent me an article by a respected Palestinian. He described his first demonstration, many years ago.

The way he tells it, he was 15 years old, living in a village under occupation, hating Israeli soldiers. With a group of friends of the same age, he went to the center of his village, where a line of soldiers was waiting for them.

Each of the demonstrators picked up a stone--no lack of stones in an Arab village--and threw it at the soldiers. The stones fell far short, causing no harm.

But--and here the adult man grew ecstatic--what a wonderful feeling! For the first time in his life the boy felt that he was hitting back! He was no longer a despised, helpless Palestinian! He was upholding the dignity of his people! The old leaders may be subservient! Not he, not his friends!

For the first time in his life he was proud, proud to be a Palestinian, proud to be a courageous human being.

What a wonderful feeling! For this feeling he was ready to risk his life, again and again, ready to become a Shaheed, a witness, a martyr.

There are many thousands like him.

Reading this description was exciting, because it reminded me of something in my own remote youth. When I was exactly the same age, 15.

It was in May, 1939. The British rulers of Palestine had just published a White Paper, putting the dampers on our Zionist vision. The world war was drawing close, and the British Empire needed the support of the Arab world.

A few months earlier, I had joined the National Military Organization (commonly called the Irgun), the most militant underground organization devoted to the fight against the British colonial regime. The last push for me was a disturbing event: for the first time the British had hanged a Jewish “terrorist”. I was determined to fill his place.

In the evening I received an order: tomorrow noon we shall start a demonstration against the White Paper. Be ready in Allenby street, near the Mugrabi cinema.

Long before the time, I was there, waiting with growing excitement. At noon exactly, a bugle sounded. I ran to the assembly point, together with hundreds of other Irgun members. Repeating slogans that someone shouted, we started to march along the street, then Tel Aviv’s main thoroughfare.

Halfway down the street there stands the Great Synagogue, with its external staircase. Somebody ran up it and delivered an impassioned speech, ending with the Biblical verse “It I forget thee, oh Jerusalem / May my right hand wither…”

From there we marched to our destination: the district offices of the British administration. Some daring fellows ran up, broke open the doors and started to throw down heaps of official papers. We burned them in the street.

Suddenly British soldiers appeared on the scene. Shots were fired, either over our heads or at us. It was the first time in my life I was shot at.

We ran away, through a hole in the fence by the railway line. After a few hundred meters we found each other again. We were ecstatic, happy beyond measure. We had shown those bloody British that Jews can fight back. We had risked our lives for our fatherland. We had made our people proud of us.

That was 79 years ago. I remember it as if it were yesterday. And I completely understand the ecstasy of the Palestinian boys, the “children of the stones”, who today risk their lives, throwing stones in futile demonstrations.

Our leaders treat the children-of-the-stones with disdain, much as the British authorities treated us then. What can they achieve? Nothing. Our--and their--pitiful demonstrations were/are ridiculous.

But a boy of 15 is a powerful force. His pride in fighting back grows with the years. It is a force that cannot be subdued. The more of them are killed, the stronger they get. The heavier the hand of the oppressor, the stronger the determination of the oppressed. It’s a law of nature.

In today’s Hebrew Empire, from the Mediterranean Sea to the Jordan River, there is already a slight Palestinian majority--something like 8.2 million Arabs to 7.8 million Jews. This fact is generally hidden in official statistics. Since the Palestinian birthrate is much higher than the Jewish one (except for Orthodox Jews), the Arab majority will inexorably grow. Greater Israel will become more and more an apartheid state.

Lately, a new political fashion has emerged, especially among Arabs. They declare that there is only one choice: either Two States or One State. If the Israeli leadership, aided and abetted by President Trump, rejects the Two State solution, the One State solution will take its place. Jews and Arabs will live in one joint state, from the sea to the river. End of the Zionist dream.

This is nonsense. One State? What would the army look like? Who would command it, who would be the soldiers? With an Arab majority in the Knesset (which would presumable change its name to Majlis) fighting a daily battle against the Jewish factions? With the standard of living of the Jews vastly higher than that of the Arab citizens? Who will control the police? Endless questions without answers.

The simple fact is that there is no choice between a Two State and a One State solution, because One State is no solution at all, but a pipe-dream. Or a nightmare.

So, is there no choice? Of course, there is. There always is.

The choice is between the Two State solution and No Solution. Eternal war.

#Israel #Palestinian stone-throwers #Mideast peace #two-state solution

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