#parker’s brain cell at work
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Spider-man Villains and Hands
If you're paying attention you'll notice often times in Spiderverse that villains are far less expressive with their hands than the heroes. That is unless it's to attack.
Kingpin clicks his pen to relieve rage he's only barely controlling and in Peter Parker's death scene, the only time we see his hands is to kill him.
With Doc Ock, we see her doing a lot of excited gesturing with her hands (pushing up her glasses, studying Peter, etc.).
But after her reveal, it's her tentacles that does most of the talking.
Moving on to ATSV, when we first meet Spot, he's experimenting with his Spots with (you guesses it!) his hands and it's a lot of trial and error. It's also a lot of slap-stick comedy in his first fight with Miles managing to take him out briefly by making him punch himself in the face.
However as he becomes more confident with his powers, we see him use his hands less and less to the point he doesn't need to use a spot to teleport between dimensions. Instead of attacking them, Spot starts fighting by letting the heroes attack him.
And by the end of the film, his mere presence has become such a threat to Miles that all he has to do to invoke fear is stand still. This is why after his colour scheme has been completely inverted, he doesn't fight or do anything with his hands anymore and it's why our last focus on his hands is when he watches it completely turn from white to black.
When we first get a good look at Miguel, we get a close-up of his claws before panning up to his watch. Firstly this shows us how unlike the other Spider-people Miguel is. He has claws and wears a cape. Peter says in the first movie, "Spider-man doesn't wear capes." Then we see a better look at his watch which tells us this character isn't just scary and powerful, but is powerful in their access to other dimensions without having their cells decay - which by the end of the movie proves to be another problem for Miles. Immediately this shot warns us that Miguel is an unstoppable and dangerous person and the sirens in his leitmotif only emphasise that, even if the characters don't realise it yet.
Likewise with Fisk and Doc Ock in the previous Spiderverse installment, Miguel also doesn't have a lot of hand animations outside of fighting and we see this visual language in his meeting with Miles. Miles offers Miguel an empanadas and calls him 'Tio' ("uncle" in Spanish) as an offer of respect and solidarity, but Miguel's response is to grab the box and throws it aside before resuming his stance.
Here Miguel isn't just refusing Miles, he's also refusing the subliminal coding of a heroic character and I feel this has a lot to do with how our human brains work. The way we understand people and animals is by the way they mirror us. We like patterns and to draw parallels to ourselves. When someone is excited, we're excited. When someone's confused, we're confused. When someone's sad, we're sad. And so on. However when we're faced with something that doesn't react how we expect or reacts unpredictably, like Miguel throwing the empanadas back at Miles, it's sets off a warning in our brains. It's kind of like a predator hunting prey, which is the exact dynamic between Miles and Miguel by the end of the film.
However in Miles' mind, he has no idea why Miguel is being so antagonistic towards him. Even when Peter says, "He's always like this." Miguel remains stoic when Mayday is crawling around him and only moves to catch her and hand her back to Peter. Like with the empanadas, this is another example of Miguel's lack of ability to connect with the people in his environment other than through aggression and violence. It's why Miles calls out, "You have claws? Are you sure your Spider-man?" Because Spider-man is defined by his ability to connect with people - hero or villain.
Then we get to another clawed antagonist who hunts Miles for the duration of the first Spiderverse's runtime. Much like Miguel, Prowler's movement is mostly unstoppable aggression. That is until he learns Miles is Spider-man. Aside from presenting as Aaron Davis, Prowler is most identifiable by his giant claws and the camera makes sure of it.
It's only when Aaron learns who Miles is does he take off a claw to hold his hand in his final moments. Unlike Miguel, the claws are not exclusively attached to his suit - they are removable and thus Aaron is able to connect with the people in his environment outside of his identity as the Prowler.
Which finally leads us to our other Prowler, who likewise is able to put on and take off the claws. But where am I going with this?
I feel like in this scene the lighting and colour grading is doing the most work in making Prowler intimidating. Because unlike Aaron's Prowler, Miles' Prowler design is very casual for a villain. Which works for the character but without the claws and the mask, Miles looks just as scrawny as his Spider-man counter-part. It's almost too casual without those key identifiers. Which is why I think we're going to see a lot of Miles' Prowler without the claws and interacting with his family in the next film, as well as dealing with his own identity. Like Aaron in the first film and unlike Miguel in the second, we're going to see how Prowler connects with his environments beyond serving as a antagonistic foil to Miles.
#i already referenced “don't watch the mouth. watch the hands.” in my last post#but that phrase applies in this context too#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#miles morales#prowler#gwen stacy#hobie brown#pavitr prabhakar#aaron davis#rio morales#miles g morales#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#spider punk#spiderman india#jessica drew#jefferson morales#dr olivia octavius#wilson fisk#kingpin#peter parker#the spot#spot atsv#atsv
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A DARK AGE pt.2
previous part -
series summary - it's been nine months since you watched your best friend, Gwen Stacy, plummet to her death; an event that ultimately caused new york's hero to abandon the city entirely. now that he's finally returned you find yourself being forced to confront the ugly truth you've been running from.
chapter summary - desperate to get Harry Osborn out of your head, you find yourself following a lead that sends you straight to Peter Parker.
series warnings - 18+, minors DNI, series will contain depictions of violence, sexual content, dark themes, and more. please read at your own risk.
word count - 12.8k
// a dark tasm!fan fiction // masterlist // send me your thoughts // newspaper headline //
YOU HAD been worried that the ice-cold stare of Harry Osborn would remain stuck in your brain for the entire cab ride back to New York City.
Fortunately, by the time you’d made it to Yonkers, about thirty minutes out from Ravencroft’s facility, the distressing imagery in your head faded as your ears were suddenly blasted with a series of rushed ding-s from your cell phone.
You welcomed the noisy distraction, even if it only further agitated the throbbing headache you felt coming on.
All the messages were from Betty Brant and likely could’ve been summed up in one long message rather than a dozen short ones. And, for the most part, all the texts did were confirm your fears: her search for Peter’s whereabouts had been a fruitless effort.
Well, almost fruitless.
You couldn’t quite give Brant credit for the one lead she’d received given the fact that it had essentially just fallen in her lap, but you still typed back a simple—good job, nonetheless.
While you were off pointlessly torturing yourself behind Ravencroft’s iron gates, a woman had called the Bugle and had the misfortune of being answered by Jameson himself.
According to Brant, the lady asked for you by name, and when Jameson told her you were busy and she’d need to call back later, she turned frantic. He said she sounded as if she were on the verge of tears, begging him to get a message to you ASAP.
Please tell her to stop by my house! Tomorrow afternoon! She knows the address already, I promise! Tell her it’s May Parker, okay? M-A-Y P-A-R-K-E-R!
Of course Jameson knew who the crackpot (his words) was once she said her last name, having spoken to her once or twice during Peter’s limited time at the Bugle.
What he hadn’t told Brant was that it took everything in him to bite his tongue, to not tell the woman every horrible opinion he held in regard to her nephew. Jameson knew that it would do no good. He also knew that it wasn’t her fault that Peter hadn’t shown up to the hospital that night.
Still, he couldn’t help but find himself seething with rage, speaking through gritted teeth until he could finally hang up the phone. He had absolutely no interest in finding Peter Parker, even if he was the only one to ever get a clear shot of Spider-Man.
Good riddance had become his motto when it came to both Peter and Harry. You were one of the few things in this world that mattered more to Jameson than a good lead, which was exactly the reason why he had no interest in Peter’s whereabouts when he first went awol and left the Bugle without notice—he didn’t care. Even if Peter had come back to work, he would’ve just been fired anyway. Jameson had no interest in keeping him around, regardless of the quality of his work.
But despite his hatred for the boy, he knew you were looking for him. While Jameson was unaware of Peter’s secret identity, he knew for certain that Peter had connections to Spider-Man, given that it was the whole reason he had employed him in the first place. You figured there was likely no one in this world that Jameson wanted to keep you from more than Spider-Man. But in what was surely not an easy choice to make, he begrudgingly passed the message from May along to Brant, messily scrawled onto a Doughnuttery napkin that had been stained with chocolate frosting.
He refused to withhold a lead from you.
Of course, when first deciding to track Peter down, you had considered going to his aunt, but she was always meant to be a last-ditch choice. After all, rumor had it that Peter had abandoned her too, moving out shortly after Gwen’s death. You didn’t see a need to add to her grief unless it felt necessary, yet it seemed she wanted you to.
A part of you hoped that the mystery surrounding why May was so adamant about speaking to you would serve as a distraction for the night. You didn’t want to think any more about Ravencroft, and certainly not about the boy they kept locked behind those iron gates.
Deep down, though, you knew that wasn’t possible. Try as you might, there was nothing in this world capable of distracting you from the thoughts of Harry Osborn.
He was a plague, one that you had been fighting off ever since that night; and seeing him in person seemed to have only granted him the opportunity to further sink his claws into you.
You often found yourself reliving the moment you first saw him—the Green Goblin. A monster composed of distended veins and spindly bones, appearing so completely and utterly inhuman—so unlike the boy you knew that you didn’t even recognize him at first. At first, there had just been fear, a sense of pure unbridled terror.
But then, once he spoke, you knew. You knew what he had done, recognized him in spite of the monster the serum had transformed him into. Bile instantly stung at your throat, threatening to spill past your lips and onto the asphalt beneath your feet. You couldn’t stop thinking of how much it had burned, swallowing it down over and over again, as many times as it took before your body finally stopped trying.
You fought so hard against that visceral reaction, the sensible part of you that had seen this new form he’d taken on and screamed at you to run. You wouldn’t let yourself do that. You couldn’t bear the thought of turning your back on your friend, even after seeing what he’d turned himself into.
But then he grabbed Gwen and once she was in his arms you realized that he wasn’t the same anymore. Then once he’d finally let her go, once you’d watched her take her very last breath, you swore you’d always hate him. Harry Osborn was not your friend; it was a simple fact that you still stood behind.
But trauma was a peculiar thing.
Usually when Harry haunted your thoughts, the Green Goblin was always the focal point. Flashes of Gwen’s lifeless body dangling from Spider-Man's web, the sounds of squelching flesh and cracking bones. You would remember the metallic taste that filled your mouth as you looked over at him that last time, just before everything went black.
Tonight, though, you’d found yourself thinking not of the Goblin, but of your friend. The friend that had once been good as dead to you. Memories that had once been shoved aside in favor of sinking into the tragedy you’d experienced, only to be brought back to light after seeing his face today.
You tossed and turned in your bed, your head pounding as thoughts of posh charity events, late-night talks, and inside jokes fought to keep you awake. It wasn’t until the next day when you’d finally arrived at Aunt May’s house that you received a much-needed break from him.
The thick plastic covering on the couch crinkled loudly beneath your weight as you sat down. You used every ounce of effort in your body to try and appear calm as she moved past the coffee table, sitting across from you in a sage green armchair.
It was new.
“I’m so glad you came, y/n.” May offered you her sweetest smile, the gesture accentuating the thin lines around her eyes. She looked older somehow, even though it hadn’t even been a year since you last saw her. “I was worried that bitter man at the newspaper wouldn’t tell you I called.”
You barely stifled your laughter, then immediately wondered if she could tell that even that sliver of emotion was fake. It was second nature to put on an act, especially when it came to work matters. To appear excessively friendly, using it as a tool to quickly build some sort of rapport with someone, hoping it would get them to spill whatever information they might have.
It didn't seem necessary to put up an act around May, but you found it difficult to turn it off.
“Jameson can be a little… testy, at times.”
She immediately snorted at your words, believing them to be a drastic understatement.
“But I’ve gotta say,” you continued, trying to steer the conversation, “I was a bit surprised when he said you called.”
Guilt settled over her soft features, dusty pink lips settling into a thin line as she stared down at her lap, watching the steam rise from her cup. “I know. I meant to call sooner, more often, but I just...” she sucked in a breath, lifting the cup to the edge of her lips, “I didn’t want to make a big fuss of things.”
She was drinking chamomile tea. You knew this because you were offered some as soon as she opened the front door, cheerfully telling you that she’d just boiled a fresh pot of water. While you didn’t consider yourself an expert on May Parker, you couldn’t help but make note of the fact that you’d never seen her enjoy herbal drinks before.
You leaned forward a touch, your elbows resting just above your knees as you did so. “What would you make a fuss over?”
This meeting was different than Ravencroft.
At Ravencroft you were a sheep grazing among lions. Showing weakness would gain you nothing, save for failure and potential death. But in a place like Aunt May’s home, the roles immediately reversed.
Here, you were the lion. And, to gain the trust of sheep, you needed to come off as if you were entirely transparent. Wear your heart on your sleeve, bare every emotion you had, and express as much concern as possible, fooling them into believing that you were truly on their side.
But this time was different, you tried to remind yourself, working diligently to ensure your emotions didn’t come off as fake or exaggerated. You could be genuine. You really were on her side, right?
“Peter’s been...” She hesitated as her wedding ring clinked against the porcelain cup in her hands as she nervously tapped her fingers. She never took it off, even after Ben died. “different.”
Your chest tightened, elbows digging further into your thighs. “What do you mean?”
“He changed after what happened to Gwendolyne.” she began to explain, though she remained hesitant. “It started off small. Quitting the newspaper, refusing to finish his college applications. And maybe that’s when I should’ve stepped in, tried to snap him out of it or something. But after what he’d gone through... what he had lost...”
There was a knowing look in her eyes, a sense of understanding. It was then that it fully clicked for you, realizing that May had been through something similar to what Peter went through. She knew what it was like to have your entire world change in the blink of an eye. “I just hoped that with time it would pass.”
“And it didn’t, did it?” You guessed, painfully aware of the answer.
If it had changed, if he had gotten better, then you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.
May shook her head. “No.” She uttered, her hooded gaze still avoiding yours, remaining fixed on her cup. “It got worse.”
There was something in the way she spoke, the solemn tone you’d never heard her take before, that sent chills running down your spine.
“How so?”
"Little ways, at first.” Her voice broke, clearing her throat before taking another sip of tea. “He started acting out. Getting mean. Rageful.”
Your heart ached for the woman, fighting the urge to reach out and hug her as you watched her hazel eyes turn glossy.
“He was almost never home anymore, and then one day he just... didn’t come back.”
She wiped away the unshed tears, lightly shaking her head and muttering an apology.
“Where is he?” You asked her, instinctively looking towards the old staircase that led to his bedroom.
Years had been wasted in there, sitting cross-legged on his worn-out rug and exchanging complaints about Flash Thompson or Miss. Ritter. On good days, the two of you would build Lego sets and eat your fill of junk food. On bad days you’d both tuck yourselves away in his bed, hidden underneath a stack of blankets as old movies played from his laptop.
It had been a while since you’d let yourself think of those memories, and you hadn’t quite expected it to hurt as much as it did to acknowledge that those days were gone.
“Columbia.” She spoke.
Your eyes widened as your head cocked to the side. “University?”
Warmth spread across your cheeks as embarrassment settled in, feeling a bit silly for speaking the thought aloud. Of course she had meant Columbia University. Still, it shocked you a little when she nodded, confirming your thoughts. Given the way she spoke of Peter’s decline, you hadn’t expected him to be attending college.
“So, you still talk to him?” You quickly followed up with another question, this one less painstakingly dumb than the last.
May scoffed, the loose hair framing her face swaying about as she shook her head. “I don’t know if I’d call it talking. But he checks in on occasion, just often enough to keep me from having a heart attack.”
You glanced down at her cup of tea, willing to reason that maybe Peter had been the reason for her sudden interest in herbal drinks. After all, they were known to reduce stress, and Peter seemed to be causing a great deal of it.
There was another sound of disapproval, a click of her tongue as her voice went low again. “You raise a boy for over ten years,” she started, the smallest spark of anger burning within her, “only to end up getting a postcard in the mail every month.”
“A postcard?” You wondered aloud, likely looking as puzzled as you felt. “You don’t have his phone number?”
She snorted. “I don’t know if he even has a phone anymore.”
For a moment neither of you spoke, and you found yourself studying her features, looking for any sign that she might be lying. You knew that there was no point in it, that May had no reason to lie to you. There would be nothing for her to gain, plus she had reached out to you for help. Still, it was second nature for you to remain apprehensive.
It was hard to believe that Peter had all but completely cut ties with his aunt. May had raised him, practically given her entire life just to ensure that he had everything he could ever need, only to up and abandon her out of the blue—just as he had done to you.
Nothing about it made any sense to you, and the thought alone was enough to fill you with not only rage, but also fear. Was Peter that far gone?
You didn’t want to think about that right now, instead focusing on the sharp pain sneaking up your left side from sitting hunched over for so long. Forcibly relaxing your muscles, you leaned back against the couch cushions, listening to the way the plastic squelched as you shifted.
“Is that why you called?” You finally asked, pressing a hand to your ribs and rubbing over the sore area. “To see if I could help Peter?”
May took another long and thoughtful sip of her tea. Then, once she was finished, she leaned forwards and placed it on the coffee table that stood between you both. “No.” She stated firmly, only for her eyes to narrow and then go back on the declaration, “Not entirely, at least.”
You frowned at her, confused.
“I wanted to call because I realized that you needed someone, too.” You froze instantly, suddenly feeling as if the air had been knocked from your lungs. “I’ve been so caught up with Peter and trying to find a way to help him that I nearly forgot he wasn’t the only one who lost someone.”
May glanced up for perhaps the first time in this whole conversation. You couldn’t help but feel as if the roles had changed, sinking further into the cushion behind you. She took note of everything, your stiff posture, the subtle bouncing of your leg, the timid look in your eye. You had become the sheep, being carefully discerned by the lion.
“I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was—still am, for your loss, y/n. You didn’t just lose Gwen that night, you lost all three of them.”
Her heedful words landed the final blow, feeling like a piercing knife against your throat.
Suck it up, you kept repeating to yourself, change the subject.
Scrambling to compose yourself, nearly choking on your own tongue, you tried to ignore the look of concern she gave you. You didn’t need sympathy. “I’m managing.” You told her roughly, only able to conjure a barely believable smile. “It could be worse.”
“Sure,” May tentatively agreed, “but it could also be better.”
You decided it was best to not acknowledge her words.
“You said not entirely.” You reminded her, working hard to ensure that your voice didn’t shake. You weren’t sure why it was shaking in the first place, torn between naming anxiety or anger as the culprit. “When I asked if you wanted me to help Peter, that’s what you said. What makes you think I can help him?”
May’s face screwed up, staring at you as if it were obvious. “Because no one else can. The three of you—you, Harry, and Gwen—were the only ones that could ever get through to him.” She paused, considering her next words. “And you’re the only one left.”
There was a weight that settled on your shoulders, shoving you further into the couch. You didn’t like the way that it sounded, for more reasons than one. There was too much responsibility that came with it.
“Columbia’s campus is big.” You told her, void of any emotion. “Do you know where he’s staying? Anything that might help me find him?”
This time it was May’s turn to sink back into her seat, shoulders slouching forward as she turned apologetic. “I know he’s living on campus, but I don’t know which building. Whenever he writes he always keeps the details to a minimum.”
As much as you appreciated any information she offered, it wouldn’t help you much. You had been right in your earlier statement; Columbia was a big school with at least two dozen residence halls. Finding Peter amongst those students was comparable to finding a needle in a haystack.
You knew that you could enlist Betty Brant’s help, but even then, it could take days before one of you happened to find him.
Finally, a bit exasperated, you dared to ask. “Anything else?”
May smiled, weary and filled with regret. “Just be careful, y/n. I’m not sure what Peter had gotten himself into, but I’ve seen the news.” Her hands trembled as she spoke. “I know what they think he did. What Spider-Man might have done.”
She spoke the vigilante’s name like a forbidden word, as if it were one she had sworn she’d never speak aloud, and your eyes grew wide as you just barely breathed out, “You know?”
May’s smile remained despite the somber gleam in her eyes as she told you simply, “No one washes the flag.”
You found the students at Columbia University nauseating.
Most of them were pretentious assholes that stunk of cigarette smoke, not because they actually smoked them, but instead because letting them lazily hang from their fingers matched their desired aesthetic.
They were all desperate to give off the same vibe as a fifteen-year-olds dark academia Pinterest board, leaning against a wall with a copy of Allan Ginsberg’s Howl tucked beneath their arm. You wondered if any of them had ever read it, snorting to yourself when you thought of how they’d likely dogeared a few pages to make the book look worn.
“This place is huge.” Betty Brant marveled from beside you, spinning in a circle as she took in its vastness. When she was done making herself dizzy, she looked at you. “This is gonna be impossible.”
You smiled at her inept observation, challenging her. “Why?”
Her brows snapped together, a single hand incredulously waving around the two of you. “Have you looked around?” She quipped. “There are literally thousands of people here! If we find him today, then it’ll just be dumb luck.”
You didn’t judge her for her innate pessimism. After all, you felt just as overwhelmed as Betty Brant did currently when sitting on Aunt May’s couch, listening as she told you that she had essentially nothing to offer in terms of helping to find Peter. It was easy to assume the worst in a field where you’re so often dealt the shittiest of hands—but Jameson and the other seasoned reporters at the Bugle had taught you well. There was always a way to turn things around.
“Know your target, Brant.” You lightly chastised, a teasing smile that Brant felt looked out of place on you. While she still didn’t know you well, she’d seen you around the office a lot, and she struggled to remember a time when you didn’t have a permanent grimace etched on your face.
Your fingers delved into your bag and reached for a few papers that you’d printed off at the Bugle, just moments before you’d snagged Brant up by her arm without warning and forced her to come with you to Columbia University. You held one of the papers out to her, which she swiftly took and began reading.
"There are only two programs offered at Columbia that Peter would care about: photography or biochemistry.” You explained to her. “I went on their website and got an idea of a mock schedule for both and copied down the names of the buildings they’re in. It’s still not a sure shot-”
“But it gives us somewhere to start.” Brant finished your sentence, her big eyes flickering back up to yours as she lowered the page you’d given her.
You grinned. “Exactly.”
“So, we’re splitting up?”
She was nervous about that idea, clear by the way she started to tug at the edge of her royal blue cardigan. If it were someone other than Brant you might be concerned, but Brant always came off a little antsy, making it easy to brush it off; although it did leave you wondering why the girl stayed so high strung. One day you’d ask her about it, you thought, but not right now.
"It’s better that way. We'll cover more ground.” You told her, your pitiless statement doing little to quell her nerves as she gave another sharp tug to her garment, anxiously looking around at the swarm of students passing around you both.
You did your best to look sympathetic, “Just call me if you need me, alright?” Brant stared back at you, resembling a small child whose mother was dropping them off on their first day of school. It was pitiful, and you nearly groaned as you forced yourself to say, “If you call, I’ll answer. Promise.”
Brant hesitated for a second before nodding, still uneasy but far more willing now to leave your side. As you turned away from her you reminded yourself to never have children, desperately hoping and praying to any God who might listen that Brant would not call you.
As you started to meld into the crowd, falling into step with a group of girls around your age, the thoughts of Brant and her child-like anxiety were replaced with something far more juvenile. You had just barely glanced at the girls walking next to you, at first only giving them a quick glance. Soon, though, as you continued towards your destination, you found yourself fixating on them.
They smelled like cloves and bergamot, probably the scent of some over-priced perfume you’d never even dream of taking off the shelf and their clothes were nicer than anything hanging up in your closet. One had a Tiffany’s necklace dangling around her throat like a collar and another had pin straight platinum hair. In short, they looked expensive. But, at the same time, they looked incredibly beautiful.
It made you hyper aware of yourself, of how different you looked in comparison. You weren’t wearing any nice jewelry, and your hair was messily tied back, making you feel as if you were the opposite of both the girls that had caught your attention. Realizing this, you looked around at the other girls surrounding you, noticing that all of them looked that way. Posh, put-together, and completely and utterly gorgeous.
A strange feeling crept up your spine, one you hadn’t felt since you were in high school. Self-loathing.
There was a time when you prioritized your appearance, or at least more than you do now. You could still remember what it was like to stroll into an Oscorp charity event, dozens of eyes glued to you. Men would watch with bated breath as you passed them, silently dreaming of a day where you’d actually notice them.
That would never happen, of course.
You always went to those events with either Harry or Peter, and they often left you with little reason to acknowledge anyone else in attendance. Even so, you remembered the power you held. Remembered what it was like to feel desired by someone, even if it wasn’t by who you wanted.
After the accident, though, you’d stopped caring about how you looked. It felt so trivial to put any more effort than necessary into your looks, often throwing on the same outfit several days in a row to save time in the mornings. But in this moment, you found yourself feeling differently, insecurity slipping into your mind. Had you let yourself go? Surely not...
It didn’t matter! You suddenly shouted at yourself, fists balling up at your sides as you tried to silence the thoughts that were fueled by foolish insecurity. Despite believing every word of the statement, it didn’t help to make you feel any less self-conscious.
Passing by the mirrored windows of the mess hall, you found yourself slowing down, falling behind the group of girls as you hesitantly turned to catch a glimpse of yourself. You cursed yourself for looking, hating that you even cared about this sort of thing right now. But once you looked into the reflection you froze, realizing that it wasn’t yourself that you saw in the reflection. It was Gwen.
“It’s not that bad!” She would lie to you, her voice jumping several octaves as she did. A hand would reach out, sage green fingernails combing through the frizzy mess that framed your face, trying to flatten it. “It just needs a little...” her head cocked to the side, teeth exposed as she sucked in a breath, “work.”
Gwen was always a terrible liar. She wasn’t like you; she never had been. She was completely incapable of hiding her hand, always living with her cards exposed for the world to see—for them to take advantage of. It was what you’d always admired most about her, her willingness to trust in everyone, to see the good in anyone. It was also what you despised the most about her, and you tried not to dwell on the complexity of that.
“You know what? It doesn’t even matter!” Gwen’s shoulders lifted exponentially, a mess of blonde curls violently swaying as she shook her head about. “You still look hotter than half the girls here, alright?” She grinned at you, the same sweet smile that you missed more than anything. “I promise!”
And she meant it every word of it, but rather than offering you any comfort, the words just filled you with envy. You envied Gwen far more than you liked to admit. You wanted to be like her, even now, to be able to see the good in every situation, to be even half as lovely as she was.
You tried to swallow your guilt, though it only made your stomach hurt. You had promised yourself that you were done envying Gwen.
But you weren’t done missing her.
Still entranced by her doe eyed stare, you felt your phone begin to buzz in your pocket, distracting you enough that you turned your gaze to your bag, instinctively going to dig for the device. By the time you thought to look back up, the vision of her was gone and you were looking at only a reflection of yourself.
You wasted no time in looking away.
When you sobered up enough to read the caller ID, you groaned loud enough to turn a few heads of students passing by. Now, in an interesting turn of events, you wished that Brant was the one calling you, staring down at Director Samson’s name flashing across the screen. You silenced it.
Not today. You started walking again, effectively trading your thoughts of Gwen for ones of Ravencroft and Harry Osborn. Or ever again.
Dodge Hall was the first stop on your list.
You were willing to bet that of the two programs you listed to Brant that Peter likely picked photography, which was precisely why you had delegated the biochemistry labs to Brant.
There was a chance that you were wrong and that he’d decided to major in biochemistry, maybe in some desperate attempt to be like the father he swore he hated, but you held out hope anyway. You wanted to believe that even in whatever odd stage of life Peter was in he was working to forge his own path, rather than following the one he’d once considered his birthright.
Stopping in front of the building that housed most of the University’s photography classes, you grimaced. It significantly lacked character, offering nothing more than a bunch of lifeless bricks with boring cement pillars on either side. You had yet to see anything about this school that made it seem worth the astronomical tuition students paid to attend.
“I know that look-” a high-pitched voice filled the air, the grating sound intensifying your already sour expression, “Dodge might not have the most intricate architecture on campus, but for what it lacks in appearance it makes up for in its rich and extraordinary history!”
You didn't want to turn around, fully recognizing the chirpy she-devil by diction alone. Still, you forced yourself to do it anyway, realizing that there was no possible escape route. “Mary Jane!” The vile taste of her name in your mouth left you feeling queasy, “what’re you doing here?”
No, seriously, what the fuck was she doing here?
A perfectly manicured hand flew to her overly plump lips, packed full of filler and overlined with a red lip pencil. An exaggerated gasp somehow managed to slip past them. “Oh my gosh!” The copper-haired beauty squealed, sounding as if she had inhaled at least a few liters of helium. You forgot how much you hated her voice. “y/n! I didn’t even recognize you!”
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You droned, likely appearing just as displeased as you sounded. It was difficult for you to sound pleasant around Mary Jane.
Mary Jane had always been a thorn in your side. For the most part she was entirely harmless, but her ever-so-perky attitude always left a bad taste in both your mouth and Gwen’s. On top of that, she lacked morals, made clear by the last time you’d seen her.
It was immediately after Gwen’s funeral, and you’d just happened to find Mary Jane and a few other reporters from the Daily Globe swarming the Stacy family, pining for an interview. It was disgusting, and if you’d been in better shape, you swore that you would’ve knocked her square in the face that day.
Mary Jane reached out and touched your forearm, giving it a firm squeeze. “You look so good!”
You didn’t even bother thanking her, instead deciding to brace yourself for what might be coming next. You had known her long enough to know that all her compliments were a double-edged sword, an insult waiting just around the corner.
“After Genna’s funeral you looked so thin and sickly,” her button nose scrunched up as she looked you up and down, “it’s so nice to see you look far more...” a slight tilt of her head, accompanied by a sickeningly sweet smile as she squeezed your arm again, “plump!”
The smile you gave in return was far less pleasurable than hers, bearing a closer resemblance to a snarl. “Gwen.” You pointedly corrected, choosing to ignore her weak attempt at insulting you. “Her name is Gwen.”
She only waved her hand, dismissing your correction. The simple act made your blood boil, teeth grinding together as you fought to stay silent. You didn’t have time to start a fight with her.
“Ugh, silly me! I’m so bad with names!” She pretended to laugh it off, playing it as an innocent slip of the tongue. You could see the malice behind it, though, her emerald eyes glistening with spite. Mary Jane was a journalist, which meant that remembering facts was quite literally her job. Pretending to forget Gwen’s name was just another idle attempt at getting under your skin.
It worked.
“Did you check out the Globe yesterday?” She started right back up, trapping you in another conversation and preventing you from finding an excuse to slip into Dodge Hall and start your search for Peter. “Who am I kidding! Of course you did!” Mary Jane twirled a strand of red hair around her finger, her egotism on full display as she beamed. “Dozens of newsstands sold out within the hour! Amazing, right? To sell out physical copies in this digital age!”
You only hummed in response, aware that she only wanted to hear herself talk. But God, you hated the way she spoke. Her constant need to enunciate every other word, her squeaky voice filled with false sincerity, always searching for validation in every conversation.
”Bushkin agreed that we only sold out because of my story on the front page! He said my talent for writing could be enough to revive print entirely!” Her chest swelled with pride; hands clasped over her heart as nonsense continued to spew from her.
Barney Bushkin was the publisher for the Globe, which made him Mary Jane’s boss. He also had a reputation for being a sick old pervert with an affinity for girls that were far too young for him. His opinion meant nothing to you since you knew that he would say absolutely anything if he thought it would increase his odds of getting a quick look up one of Mary Jane’s too-short skirts.
”I’m not surprised you sold so many copies,” you egged her on, taking immense pleasure in the way her smug smile grew at what she mistook for praise, “fear mongering has always been a useful tactic for sales.”
For a moment you could’ve sworn you saw her eyes turn as red as her hair, fiery rage coursing through her veins at your comment. But it was gone nearly as soon as it had appeared.
”Well,” she cleared her throat, smoothing the wrinkles out of her white blouse, “I’d hardly call my article fear mongering. I just presented the facts.”
You couldn’t deny that Mary Jane was a pro at composing herself, remaining collected even when you knew she wanted to explode. Image was important to her, meaning she couldn’t ever afford to let her nice girl act falter.
”You called Spider-Man a murderer.”
You didn’t always share her skillset, willing to let yourself come off as brash and plain-spoken.
”And last I checked there’s an active warrant for his arrest.” Mary Jane retorted sharply, the only sign she was willing to give that you were annoying her. “So, like I said, I presented the facts.”
You sucked in a breath, holding back your argument. You wanted to tell her that her facts were skewed, that she was reporting with only one source and effectively trying to demonize a man who had saved the city countless times. But you didn’t. Fighting with her would be a waste of time, and you had better things to do.
"Yeah, well, I should really get going.” You gave a curt smile, nodding in the direction of Dodge Hall. “Always good to see you, MJ.” You took care to place extra emphasis on the nickname, fully aware of just how much she hated it.
Still, she barely let it get to her, hiding her own scowl as you started to edge towards the building. You noticed the way her left eye twitched, though, showing that she was nearing a breaking point. If you had more time, you’d likely try and push her over the edge.
“Why are you here?” Mary Jane suddenly mimicked the question you had first asked her, the one she had never actually gave an answer to.
You paused, only having made it less than a few feet away from her. “Visiting a friend.”
If all went to plan, that wouldn’t technically be a lie.
“Peter?” She blurted his name out in a way that left you feeling strange. There was a hesitant look on her face, almost as if she were afraid that you’d say yes. You didn’t like it.
“Yeah, actually.” You frowned, watching her face drop at the confirmation. “Why?”
She refused to meet your stare, staring past your shoulder at the entrance of the Hall. “He’s not in there.”
In all the years you’d known Mary Jane, you’d never heard her sound so uncharacteristically dispirited. Her perky persona seemed to vanish in thin air, leaving behind someone that was entirely unfamiliar to you.
It was incredibly uncomfortable.
“Wait, do you know where he is?” You asked.
“Of course I do.” She quickly answered, cutting her eyes at you. “But if you’re the one meeting him then shouldn’t you know where he is?”
Jealousy settled in. Why did she know where Peter was? Mary Jane and Peter had never been particularly close, likely due to the lifelong rivalry that you and Gwen had held with her. The idea of him even interacting with Mary Jane left you feeling unsettled.
“Well, we were supposed to meet here.” You lied, turning a tad defensive as you shrugged a shoulder in the direction of the building. “But it’s been a busy morning. He might’ve forgot.”
You paused, debating whether you wanted to continue. There was a good chance that you didn’t want to hear the answer to the question resting on the tip of your tongue, and yet you made yourself ask it anyway. “Were you just with him?”
Please say no-
“Yes.” Her answer came quickly. “We had plans to get dinner but-um,” she suddenly became extremely focused on her own feet, awkwardly kicking at the sidewalk, “he had to... cancel. Said he was gonna be too busy developing photos all night.”
Her too-perfect face screwed up in an unsightly sort of way. You almost thought that you should feel guilty for accidentally making it seem as if Peter had ditched her for you. But you didn’t. Instead, you felt sickly satisfied, taking pleasure in her sorrow. You reveled in it, finding it easier to focus on that than the idea of why she and Peter were going to get dinner together in the first place.
”Mm, that sucks.” You let out a disinterested hum, taking a page from her book as you continued without waiting for a reply, “Is that what he’s doing now? Developing photos?”
Mary Jane gave a stiff nod.
”Great.”
Despite how painful it had been to sit through what felt like a never-ending conversation with her, Mary Jane had ended up being of vital importance. If Peter was developing images today, then that meant he had to be in the darkrooms. And, thanks to your Google research, you knew exactly where they were—Watson Hall, just a brief walk from where you were now.
You wasted no time with stepping around Mary Jane, having no intention of even wasting a goodbye on her as you started towards your destination. But, as you moved around her body, she reached for you, her thin fingers once again wrapping around your forearm. She squeezed harder than last time, your head snapping in her direction, eyes narrowing in a threatening stare as she held you there.
Surprisingly, she gave you a threatening look of her own.
“Before you go,” you found it eerie the way her voice remained syrupy sweet, a sharp contrast to the menacing expression she wore, “I just wanted to tell you how much I adored that little sympathy piece you wrote for your friend in the looney bin.”
You pulled your arm from her grip, your body going tense at the mention of the article you’d written to try and sway the public during Harry’s trial. Jameson hadn’t allowed it to go to print, reminding you that your judgment was still clouded by grief. He didn’t understand why you were so desperate to keep Harry out of Ryker’s Island, but he had hoped that by letting you at least post the article on the Bugle’s website that it would offer you some sort of closure.
It hadn’t. It was shortly after publishing the piece that you had went straight to Harry’s lawyers, giving them all the information they would need to plead insanity.
Mary Jane stepped closer, ignoring your effort to create distance from her. She was close enough that you could nearly feel the heat radiating off her body. You didn’t like it, but you refused to let yourself back away from her.
“I can’t say that Peter agreed.” Her lips curled into a cynical smirk. “I mean, honestly, after the reaction he had to it I’m shocked that he can even stand to be in the same room as you!” The sound of her laughter infuriated you. “I suppose it’s true what they say about time, yeah? That it heals all wounds—even a knife in the back.”
You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think.
All you could do was stare at the devilish woman in front of you, seething with a type of hatred that you were certain could eat you alive. Your nails sunk into the heel of your palm, an effort to refrain yourself from using them to claw that nasty complacent look right off her face.
Mary Jane noticed this and decided to take your silence as a sign of her victory.
“It really was great seeing you, y/n.” She gushed, the false tender statement only fueling your anger. As she turned to walk away, she glanced over her shoulder, winking at you. “Don’t be a stranger.”
One day, you swore to yourself with a particularly loud huff, spinning on your heel and stomping in the direction of the darkrooms, you would kick Mary Jane’s ass.
When you posted the article—the one you hoped would sway the public’s opinion of Harry—you knew Peter would see it. More than that, you knew that he would be adamantly against it.
Unlike you, Harry hadn’t given Peter a reason to care whether he lived or died.
If anything, he had done nothing but give Peter motive to kill Harry himself. You hated that thought. While you didn’t believe that Peter had murdered Sytsevich, you worried that if given the chance he would have killed Harry that night. You wanted to believe that he wouldn’t have been capable of following through with it, though. Just as you weren’t capable of sitting idly by as Harry was sentenced to Ryker’s Island, knowing that he would be as good as dead in there.
Maybe you’d been stupid not to consider that the article was one of the reasons why Peter had never bothered to reach out to you, even once things had settled down. Maybe it was your own fault that he’d abandoned you, that the article had been the final nail in the coffin of your friendship.
Your stomach ached, your mind still reeling as you shoved open the large doors of Watson Hall. A rush of frigid air washed over you, goosebumps erupting against your skin.
Was it possible that Peter hated you as much as he hated Harry?
No. It couldn’t be. What Harry had done was beyond abominable, something that could never be forgiven. You hadn’t done anything nearly as bad as him.
Yet, on the other hand… is the one who comes to a monster's defense just as bad as the monster? You weren’t sure of the answer to that question, though you started to rationalize it to yourself anyway—you weren’t defending him, you just didn’t want to watch him die if there was something you could do to stop it!
But why not? Gwen wasn’t a monster, yet you still watched her die, standing on the sidelines and doing nothing to try and stop it.
There was nothing I could’ve done! Your mind screamed in defense of itself as you approached the staircase leading to the second floor, roughly gripping the rail as you started climbing up.
Why had Peter talked to Mary Jane about the article in the first place? That question was easier to think about than the others, infuriating but still less emotionally taxing, so you let yourself fixate on it. As far as you knew, Peter hadn’t liked Mary Jane any more than you and Gwen did, always keeping his distance from the she-devil.
When did that change?
At the top of the stairs, nestled in a corner of the left, there was a single door with a large black sign hanging off of it. The words DARKROOM IN USE were written in bold letters. You stared at it for a moment, your mind finally going blank as you did.
Peter was behind that door—your best friend, Peter.
Your palms started to sweat as memories started flooding back. Instantly, you bit your cheek, trying to ignore them. Now wasn’t the time for a trip down memory lane, especially not when you could still recall the bloody way that road ends.
A knock echoed through the somewhat barren Hall as your first collided with the door, your nerves growing with every passing millisecond. All you could do was focus on the different feelings fighting to consume you, the thudding of your heart, the slickness of your hands, the churning of your stomach.
“Peter?”
Saying his name felt wrong, but you said it anyway as you knocked again, a bit harder this time. “It’s y/n,” you told him, as if it were even possible for him to forget the sound of your voice, “can I come in?”
Once again you were met with silence.
You considered turning around. Maybe Jameson had been right in thinking that you shouldn’t chase this story. After all, it wasn’t your job to prove Spider-Man's innocence, and if Peter wanted your help, then he knew how to find you. You could call Brant right now and tell her that today was a bust, or even lie and say that Peter didn’t want to help with the story. You could walk away.
But you didn’t let yourself do that, once again feeling that weight of responsibility that May had unintentionally placed on your shoulders. There was no one left in Peter’s corner, no one that would be willing to dig him out of whatever dark hole he’d landed himself in.
You had fought to save Harry’s life, and so it only felt right that you tried to do the same for Peter.
Without bothering to knock again, you reached for the knob and twisted, hastily slipping inside the room, trying to limit the amount of light the leaked in behind you. You didn’t know a lot about developing photos, but you’d never forgotten the way Peter would groan whenever you’d come in unannounced, accidentally letting the light ruin his work.
The door clicked shut behind you as you looked around. It wasn’t a big room, just large enough for two or three people to comfortably fit inside. Any more than that, though, and they’d likely be bumping elbows the entire time. There was a table in the center of it, lined with tubs holding various chemicals that you’d never learned the names of. A clothesline hung around the perimeter of the room, a few newly developed photos lazily dangling from it. On the far wall there were two desks, various images and tools scattered across them.
Everything in the room looked sinister, courtesy of the red tinted light that hung overhead.
”Fucking creepy.” You muttered to yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as a chill inched down your back. This room felt significantly colder than the rest of Watson Hall, only adding to its unsettling vibe.
The darkroom was empty, despite the sign on the door saying it was in use. The realization nearly made you breathe a sigh of relief, a part of you finding comfort in the thought that you wouldn’t actually have to confront Peter right now. But as you stepped further into the room and towards the twin desks, all your newfound relief dissipated.
Resting against the leg of the desk was a fluorescent yellow bookbag, decorated with a variety of cheap pins ranging from local bands to images of outdated memes. You remembered the first time you ever saw that bag, lying on the floor of Peter’s bedroom just a week or so before the start of Junior year. He threw a fit when Aunt May had come in, tossing the ugly bag on his bed and raving about how she had gotten it on sale just in time for back-to-school.
You made fun of him for months, always making note of the way its vibrancy clashed with his darker style. Secretly you had loved that bag, silently appreciative for how easy it made it to find Peter in the crowded halls of Midtown High. He would always beg Aunt May to get a different bag, but she refused, saying that they shouldn’t buy another until he had worn the yellow one out.
Looking at it now, it seemed that he had finally achieved that goal. The yellow fabric was a touch duller now, though not by much, and there was a noticeable tear in the seam of the front pocket. Kneeling beside it, you traced your finger over a trail of blue thread, having been carefully used to stitch the fabric back together.
You wondered why he had decided to fix it instead of just replacing it like he had always wanted.
Straightening back up, you scanned over the rest of the desk. There was a black reusable water bottle perched on the edge, a set of keys attached to a Deftones lanyard lying beside it. A bit of sweat trickled down the edge of the bottle, collecting on the surface of the desk. You reached for it, shifting it just enough to hear ice knocking against the metal walls. It had barely melted, meaning that it hadn’t been long since Peter had gotten here. Still, you had no clue where he was now.
Closer to the center of the desk was a neat stack of already developed photos. A girl graced the top of the stack—pale skin with bleach blonde hair, neatly pushed back by a black headband. You reached for it without hesitation, a single digit tracing along her grinning face.
Peter took pictures of a lot of people, you included, but it was undeniable that Gwen had always been his favorite subject. Looking at this photo, you couldn’t help but understand why. She was effortlessly beautiful, capable of taking your breath away without even trying.
You could never blame Peter for always trying to capture that beauty, fully aware that if you were him, she would’ve been your favorite too.
Without much thought you decided to slip the image into your bag. Peter had dozens of pictures of Gwen, while you only had a measly few. He could spare one.
The other images were far more recent than the first, with only one or two others featuring Gwen. There were snapshots of random Columbia students, a few cityscapes, and even one of the devil herself—Mary Jane, posed in front of the same mess hall that had ensnared you earlier. In the reflection you could see Peter, smiling from behind his camera.
You gritted your teeth and rolled your eyes at the image. Were they really friends? The picture seemed to serve as enough of an answer, but you still couldn’t help but hope that you were wrong. Had Peter truly traded you in for Mary-fucking-Jane?
You roughly shoved that photo to the back of the stack, doing your best not to think about it as you continued to snoop through the rest of them. None were particularly interesting, save for the last two. Their dark composition offered a stark difference from the rest, while simultaneously making it difficult to tell what Peter was even photographing.
Taking one in each hand, your eyes darted back and forth between them, squinting as you tried to make out the subject, a task that was made all the more difficult by the rooms dim red lighting. You brought one closer to your face, making out a few trivial details. At the far edge, there seemed to be a street sign's corner, and in the middle a few streaks of dim light reflecting off a rain puddle.
Moving it away from yourself, you shifted your focus to the other one, thinking it appeared to be just a close-up of the first image. Then, slowly, you realized your mistake. It hadn’t been just a zoomed-in shot, as the reflection in the puddle made it something else entirely—a self-portrait.
But it wasn’t the warmth of Peter’s familiar brown eyes being reflected in the hazy liquid. Rather there was an outline of the two lifeless white lenses that belonged to his other self, the version of him you sometimes wished to forget.
The sight made you feel sick, sweat starting to form along your neck as you hastily flipped the photo over, desperate to avoid his sickening stare. However, what you saw on the back of the image was almost as bad as being forced to stare at Spider-Man's reflection. Scrawled in Peter’s barely legible handwriting was the date APRIL 2ND.
A new panic quickly trickled into your veins, fully replacing the one that had been born from the lifeless gaze of his mask. You read yesterday’s date over and over again, as if it would suddenly change. It never did, and a sizable knot formed in your throat as you slowly began to look up, shifting your focus to the forgotten photos pinned to the clothesline.
Your jaw fell slack, the photos in your hands following suit and landing on the desk below them. When you first entered the darkroom, you hadn’t paid much mind to the photographs hanging up, assuming they weren’t of much importance. Now, though, you recognized them for what they truly were—the sister images of the ones you’d been holding. Flashes of 102nd Avenue, Aleksei Sytsevich lying lifeless on the ground, milky white shards of bone peeking through his flesh. And there were photos of his mask, and those goddamn white lenses, spattered with Aleksei’s blood.
Peter hadn’t just been at the crime scene; he had documented it.
Your palm pressed roughly to your mouth, fingers digging into your cheek as you made yourself swallow the vomit fighting its way up your throat. Your own trauma fought desperately to rear its head as you analyzed the gory images, but you refused to let it take hold, scrambling to keep control as you forced yourself to snap into action.
After grabbing your phone, you wasted no time snapping pictures of the photographs hanging from the line, of the ones sprawled on the desk, of everything you could find. You didn’t know yet what you would do with them, but you refused to leave this room without collecting every bit of evidence you could find.
Once you were certain you had gotten it all, you worked to straighten the stack of pictures you’d gone through, adjusting them so they appeared as if they’d never been touched in the first place. Then, with your heart hammering inside your chest, you darted for the door without a second thought, paying absolutely no mind to the strange looks given to you by passing students as you rushed for the stairs.
You couldn’t stop moving, only slowing your frantic pace once you’d nearly made it to the exit doors. You rounded the corner as you tried to pull up Brant’s contact with shaky hands, wanting nothing more than to call her and get the fuck away from this campus. But, as soon as you went to press her name, your phone went flying from your hand and slid across the linoleum, your body pressing smack against another.
Sugary notes of vanilla flooded your senses, making your thoughts turn hazy. Your palms were flush against the soft cotton of someone’s shirt, and you could feel their fingers wrapping firmly around your shoulders, trying to steady you enough that you wouldn’t stumble back from the impact.
”Oh-shit!, sorry! I didn’t even see you-”
Their voice wasn’t the first thing you recognized, instead you found yourself caught up in the material beneath your hands. They were wearing a black Ramones t-shirt, a barely noticeable tear on the edge of the collar. But you noticed the tear instantly because you were the one who had bought the shirt. You got it at the record store on 6th Avenue—Rough Trade, was the name of it—and the man behind the counter gave it to you for half off all because of that tear.
You only ever got to wear it once before Peter nabbed it off your bedroom floor, never to return it.
”y/n?”
Your body betrayed you, immediately melting as the familiar sound of your name falling from his lips rang through your ears. Your heart had still been pounding in your chest this entire time, yet as your eyes met his for the first time in months, it fell still.
Peter didn’t fully share in your reaction. Instead of appearing as if he were lost in the same nostalgic haze you were caught in, he looked as if he had seen a ghost. His skin blanched, eyes growing unnaturally wide. For a moment you thought he was going to say something else, his lips parting, yet nothing came out.
In your lifetime, you had only known of a few things that could render Peter Parker speechless. You had now become one of them.
”Hi.” You squeaked out, a single hand lifting from his chest and offering an awkward wave that filled you with humility.
This wasn’t easy.
You weren’t sure how to act around him, how to behave. For nine months you had envisioned this moment, conjuring up countless things to say to him, all the insults you wanted to hurl his way. But now that it was happening, you found yourself torn between wanting to hug and choke him.
It seemed best to do neither.
”Um, hi?” Peter’s grip on your shoulders tightened, just for a second, as if he were trying to prove to himself that you were really standing in front of him. Once he seemed satisfied with your physicality, he stepped back and released his grip on you entirely, subsequently making your other hand fall from his chest.
”You’re not-I mean-you don’t go here.” He rasped, laughing awkwardly as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to ground himself.
”You’re right, I don’t go here!” You pointlessly confirmed, voice raising several octaves as anxiety took over. “Very observant.”
You cringed at the statement. Very observant?-you thought to yourself, biting down on the edge of your tongue as you watched Peter’s brows knit together-could've said anything, and that’s what you picked?
He didn’t even acknowledge the useless comment, only letting it hang in the air between you as he continued to wait for a true answer.
“I came to see you.” You choked out an honest answer, starting to shrink beneath his heavy gaze. You tried to step back, instinctively wanting to create distance between the two of you, but all you achieved was pressing yourself against the wall.
There was no escaping him.
He was quick to respond, making it clear just how high-strung he was. ”How did you find me?”
”I’m a reporter.” You reminded him, offering it up as a vague answer to his question. He’d likely expected the response, given the way his eyes narrowed in frustration. “Finding people is part of my job description.”
Peter always said that getting an answer out of you was like playing a game of charades, one that others very rarely won. You were a pro at dancing around the facts, only ever revealing them when they served to benefit you.
It was one of the many reasons you were so good at your job.
“Is that why you’re here?” His question carried a sharp edge, his irritation growing stronger now as his jaw tightened. “For the Bugle?”
Your body became tense, your shoulders squaring off as anxiety once again tried to shove to the surface. As you thought of the images you’d seen, the ones that were hanging just upstairs, your blood ran cold. You did your best not to let it show, instead trying to hide your fear behind a look of confusion. “Why would I be here for the Bugle?”
At first, he only stared at you, his brows raising in an incredulous manner. You forced yourself to stare back despite the discomfort it brought you. Then, finally, he answered. “You wanna talk about Spider-Man, right?”
Your heart sank into your stomach, lips turning dry as they parted. There was nothing good about the way the vigilante’s name rolled off his tongue, and you didn’t like it one bit. The semi-hushed tone he’d spoken in, laced with an essence of bitterness that one wouldn’t expect from the person that donned the mask.
Hesitantly running your tongue along your now chapped lips, you responded in a shaky voice. “Why would I wanna talk about Spider-Man?”
Harry’s advice rang through your mind—the same advice that had been mirrored by Aunt May, to remain wary of Peter—and you suddenly felt lightheaded. There was no way he could know that you found out about his identity that night, right?
No, of course not. It was impossible.
Peter appeared far more relaxed than you, his shoulders lazily lifting into a shrug. He didn’t seem to notice the sweat forming along your brow, making you think that you were doing an alright job at hiding your emotions. “Jameson wants new pictures of him, doesn’t he?” He threw out a guess.
Your shoulders instantly sagged with relief, your lungs aching as you lightly blew out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Given what you’d seen upstairs, you decided it would be best to stick to Harry and May’s advice. Peter didn’t need to know that you were aware of who wore Spider-Man's mask. Not right now, at least.
“I'm right, aren’t I?” Peter insisted impatiently, interrupting your racing thoughts and snapping you back into reality.
“Do you have new pictures of him?” You hastily snapped back.
“No. I don’t.” He lied straight through his teeth, once again running a hand through his already messy hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. It was obvious that he wasn’t planning to share any details of Spidey’s newly developed photoshoot hanging in the darkroom, and it would be against your best interest to press further, so you stayed quiet. When he opened his eyes again, he stared directly into yours. “And I don’t plan on taking any, so if that’s why you’re here then you’re wasting your time.”
You couldn’t recall ever hearing Peter sound so exhausted before. His recent lack of sleep was made painfully evident by the varying shades of purple painting the skin around his eyes. How long had he looked this way? Has it been since Gwen? In some sick way you hoped that you were right, knowing that grief being the cause was better than the alternative—the idea that his lack of sleep related to his involvement with Aleksei.
A part of you still refused to consider the images you’d seen as damning evidence that Peter had been the one to kill Aleksei Sytsevich. You couldn’t let yourself think that, refusing to believe that Peter Parker was anything even close to a murderer. It wasn’t possible.
But, as much as you hated to admit it, they proved that he was in some way involved. An accessory, at least. For some reason, hopefully a good one, he hadn’t stopped Aleksei’s murder from happening.
That came with its own dangerous implications.
You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to decide what direction you wanted to steer the conversation in, which angle would serve you best. With a deep breath, you made your choice. “Well, it’s good that that’s not why I’m here then.”
He looked surprised. “Wait,” he laughed awkwardly, “you’re not writing a piece on him?”
There was a thin line creasing the space between his brows, a strange expression on his face. His reaction wasn’t entirely unexpected, especially because you were known for your articles on Spider-Man. But this wasn’t a look that showed he was shocked to hear you were passing up on a story, it was a look of pure offense.
You fought the urge to ask him why he cared so much, curious to find out if he had been expecting you to rush to Spider-Man's defense in the media. The only reason you held yourself back was the fear that maybe you were wrong, that maybe he hadn’t wanted you to defend him at all; perhaps he just wanted more press for his potential crimes.
”Seems like the Globe has it covered.” You told him, trying to sound disinterested. You hoped that he would buy your act. “No need to waste anymore ink on a story that’s already been told, right?”
Peter knew you well enough to know that there was more to it than that. Fortunately, he was willing to reason that your potential avoidance of Spider-Man related to that night, the last night all of you were together, and the events that neither of you wanted to talk about. Besides, even if he did want to mention it, he couldn’t do so without exposing his identity to you, an identity he wasn’t aware you already knew about.
So, as much as he didn’t want to let it go, he had no other choice.
”O-kay.” He stretched the word out, shaking his head lightly as he worked to regain his bearings in the conversation. As he did so, a few strands of hair fell against his forehead. He was quick to push them back. “Well, if that’s not it, then why are you here?”
There was only a second of hesitation, air hissing between your teeth as you sucked in a breath, crossing your fingers behind your back. You hoped Gwen would forgive you for the lie you were about to tell.
”Helen Stacy.”
The first emotion to wash over Peter was pain. It was obvious, showing in the way his shoulders slumped forwards and his bottom lip trembled, wincing as the surname of his dead lover echoed through his ears. It was the second emotion that was harder to detect, having been more cleverly concealed than the first. Anger.
You could see it in his eyes, his pupils dilating as he started to see red. Your own gaze flickered to his sides, stopping on his clenched fists, knuckles turning a pale shade of white. It made you feel uncomfortable, especially since you were the one on the receiving end of that look. You nervously cleared your throat, starting to fiddle with the strap of your bag.
“She called the other day and asked about running a memorial piece for Gwen’s anniversary. Obviously, she thought it would be best if Gwen’s friends put it together—you know, do it how we used to for the school paper. I’ll do the writing; you take care of the pictures.”
It was hard to sound confident as you elaborated upon the fabricated situation, too busy trying to focus on anything other than his heavy gaze. You focused on the floor, mostly, staring over at where your phone still laid on the ground. Still, even without looking at him, you could feel the weight of his attention. The air around you began to grow thin, every breath turning into a battle. You felt like you were being slowly suffocated by his fury, your lungs burning within your chest.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea-”
“You can’t say no, Pete.” You cut him off, forcibly lowering the walls surrounding your own trauma, using it to manipulate him. You didn’t feel bad about it, either. “We both lost our best friend that night, and that sucked. But Helen lost her kid. This is the least we can do for her.”
As the last word fell from your mouth, you forcefully pried your gaze off the ground and begrudgingly met his once again. Terror slid into your veins as you did, your body already preparing itself for that seething look of his—but it vanished. There was no trace of anger on his face. All that remained was the slightest glimmer of remorse.
His fists unclenched, mindlessly cracking his knuckles. Then he sighed, followed by a reluctant nod. “You’re right. She’s been through a lot, and if this will help bring her some sort of... I don’t know-” he waved his hands slightly, looking troubled by his own choice of words, “closure, then I’ll do what I can to help.”
Your mouth curved into a smile.
It seemed like a good sign, you figured, that he was willing to help. It reignited whatever hope you had left that despite whatever mess he had gotten into as Spider-Man, that he was still the same selfless Peter Parker you’d always known. He could still be saved. And, fortunately, you had now crafted the excuse you needed to get closer to him and figure out how to save him.
”Great!” You spoke a little too loud, your excitement coming off a touch too strong. You tried to lessen it, though the uncharacteristic reaction certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed by Peter. “Meet me at Sylvia’s tomorrow at six, okay? We can start going over everything and make a rough outline for the memorial!”
Peter immediately went still when he heard the name of the restaurant the four of you used to frequent. He hadn’t set foot in Sylvia’s since Gwen’s death, too afraid to face the memories hiding within its walls. He tried to speak, tried to tell you no, but he didn’t have the chance as you interrupted him again.
“Here,” You pulled a business card from your bag, thrusting it towards him with a pointed look, “in case you forgot my number.”
You didn’t hide the animosity behind the statement, using it as another tool to play on whatever guilt he might harbor for what he’d done to you. It seemed to work, given the fact that he promptly shut his mouth and chose not to argue. Instead, he cautiously reached out, plucking the cards from your fingers.
“Try not to ghost me for another nine months.” You playfully added on, the words joined by a smile that resembled something of a threat as you reminded him, “After all, I know where to find you now.”
Peter just returned the smile, tight lipped and far less ferocious than the one you’d given him. He knew that eventually you’d want an answer as to why he’d been avoiding you, but not right now. Now wasn’t the time for it.
So, he stuffed the card in his pocket as you skillfully skirted around him, going to grab your phone off the floor. Once you had it in your hand, you started towards the exit, already starting to dial Brant’s number. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.” Peter called after you, watching as you pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold.
There was an eerie sense of familiarity accompanying his goodbye, one that left your heart swelling as the words sought to soothe any of the still-bleeding wounds that remained from that night. The comforting feeling was almost enough to make you forget about the images you’d seen in the darkroom, the ones that now also lived within the camera roll on your phone.
Almost—but not quite.
Brant answered on the first ring, seemingly overjoyed as another lie easily fell from your lips, confirming with her that Peter agreed to help take photos of Spider-Man so you could try and plead his case to the public—the reason she thought the two of you were searching for Peter. She was just as eager as you were to leave Columbia’s posh campus, swiftly agreeing when you asked her to meet you outside of the mess hall so the two of you could head back to the Bugle.
Now, waiting alone in front of the mirrored windows, you stared silently at the reflection in front of you. A girl with platinum hair, neatly tucked back by a black headband, stared back at you with her familiar bright green eyes. They were filled with enough dismay to make your chest ache, ridding you of any comfort that Peter’s familiarity had given you.
”You’re gonna have to see him again.” The somber tone she used was unbefitting of someone that you could only think to describe as sunshine personified; everything you ever wished you could be. “You’ll need his help.” Gwen told you. “You know that don’t you?”
You knew she wasn’t talking about Peter.
When you didn’t reply, she decided she needed to convince you further, tailoring her approach so it had the best chance of swaying you. She reached a handout, and you knew that if you had closed your eyes, you would be able to feel her fingertips brush against your palm as she squeezed your hand.
God, you missed that feeling. You missed her.
And it was because you missed her that you refused to close your eyes. Refused to let your brain mimic something that was no longer real.
Gwen’s doe eyes turned glossy, her rosy lips puckering into a pout that could make even the most unyielding man fold. ”He’s gonna need your help, too, y/n.”
You bit your cheek, thinking of the bottle of pills laying in the bottom of your bag, the ones you hadn’t had to take in so long now. You were getting better.
"You can’t save one without saving the other.” Gwen tried to tell you, although it only served to make you angry at her, unable to figure out why she would feel that way. She shouldn’t want you to save Harry, not when he was the reason she wasn’t here right now!
If she were here, really here, then maybe you would tell her that. Remind her of how well her altruistic lifestyle had ended.
But she wasn’t. So, you didn’t.
Instead, you turned on your heel, forcing yourself to turn away from the reflection. You immediately saw a flash of royal blue in the sea of students as Brant forced her way through the crowd. Fine—you thought to yourself, offering Gwen a silent answer as you started to make your way towards Brant.
”This place is a goddamn maze!” You heard Brant huff noisily once you were in earshot of each other, her bobbed hair swaying manically. She clearly hadn’t had a good time, but you weren’t really interested in hearing about it, either. Instead, you found yourself distracted by her appearance. Her neatly styled hairstyle, sharp winged liner, and stylish outfit. It made you think of the girls from earlier, the ones who had made you so self-conscious, and it gave you an idea.
If you were going to do this—follow Gwen’s advice and save both of your boys—then you needed to try and save yourself, too. And, luckily, you and Brant seemed to be about the same size.
“Do you wanna go shopping?” You asked bluntly, watching as Brant doubled-back, clearly not expecting your question.
She blinked, thinking it over before hesitantly replying, “Um, sure?”
Ravencroft could wait until tomorrow morning.
tag list - @pompeygirl89 @pockyandme
a/n - hi anyone who's bothering to read this! i'm super excited about this chapter for a variety of reasons and i hope that you enjoyed it! feel free to leave any comments or tips, i always appreciate them and can't wait to write more harry & dark!peter content in the next part <3
#peter parker imagine#harry osborn imagine#tasm imagine#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman imagine#dark spiderman#dark peter parker#yandere spiderman#yandere peter parker#gwen stacy imagine#gwen stacy#tasm fanfiction#tasm fic#tasm spiderman#peter parker fic#peter parker#peter parker x reader#harry osborn x reader#spiderman fanfiction#mcu imagine#harry osborn#mary jane watson#mj watson#webbverse#dark mcu#peter parker x y/n#a dark age
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Web Making
Prequel to Wolf Spider
Sam Carpenter x Spider-Man!Reader
Being the Wolf Spider, the single superhero in all of New York was rarely easy. Being a babysitter to your goddaughter May Parker was somehow even more tough.
You were trying to get your mail and jostle little May when you heard someone approach you. Normally your spider sense would’ve picked it up but at the same time, this presence put you at ease.
“Need a little help there?” A female asked you.
You turned around and came face to face with the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Skin so beautiful, hair as black as your suit. Her eyes the richest chocolate and a smile that made your heart thump wildly.
"N-No I'm good" you try to speak to this beautiful woman.
"Cute little girl" she smiles at little May, "she yours?"
"It's my goddaughter, her parents named me honorary babysitter" you state with a little smile
"Sam" she gives a little wave
"Y/N" you answer back
"What is it you do Y/N?" Somehow just hearing your name leave her lips makes it sound like sweet poetry. You nearly blurted out that you were the Wolf Spider. But luckily your two brain cells worked.
"I'm in...security. With a little hand in web design" you shrug it off.
"My sister and I are moving in on floor three." Sam tries to explain as she gestures to a few boxes near her.
"Well neighbor," you offer, "I'm gonna go put May down for her nap and if you want I can help with the boxes."
You could tell she seemed a little hesitant at first; maybe there was some trust issues there. But then she bit her lip and smiled, "I'd like that"
And just like that, Samantha Carpenter had welcomed you into her life and into her heart. It took a while but the web you've been weaving with her is definitely one for the history books in the Spiderverse.
Tags: @deafeningsharkslimeempath @ma1egamer @kingofthelizardpeople @konstantin609 @tokufighter
#scream movie#scream Sam carpenter#sam carpenter#melissa barrera#sam carpenter x reader#scream vi#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#mcu#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#spider man#wolf spider#spider society#across the spiderverse#beyond the spiderverse
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Masterlist
hello there! before diving in here are some things to know:
request are currently open
i will write anything EXCEPT smut
you can join my taglist here
most works have content warnings but if 18+ dni
now what you've been waiting for:
MY HERO ACADEMIA
katsuki bakugo x reader
series:
extra (discontinued)- u.a. a school for students to learn how to become the best pro-hero. When young y/n midoriya returns from her traveling to be accepted through recommendation. what awaits her when she meets the explosive blonde katsuki bakugo?
one-shots:
cell block tango - when your all-girls dance studio comes together with an all-boys dance studio that your boyfriend just happens to go to. tension rises when a new performance creates problems between you, your dance partner, and your boyfriend. (dancer!au)
my dream - love wasn't part of the agenda, win the sports festival, intern with the top heroes, then graduate and become number one. though those dreams don't always stay the same. (request)
izuku midoriya x reader
series:
mimic - being quirkless was something y/n lived with, the outcast, the freak. all because she wasn’t like 80 percent of the population. with dreams of becoming a hero she encounters, new friends, the return of her past, and an awakening in her.
fallen angel - y/n "halo" l/n, the protege of number two hero hawks. hero-in-training under the hero commission. mission complete training to become a hero while maintaining the hero society image.
infinite chances (coming soon)- multiple stories all lived by the same person and what connects them is the nine users of an extraordinary power.
shoto todoroki x reader
one-shots:
she loves me - a simple patrol, a routine that endeavor’s work-study students took.
keigo takami x reader
series:
the hellish todoroki family (coming soon)- dysfunctional: deviating from the norms of social behavior in a way regarded as bad. that’s the word that would describe her entire childhood and family.
mha x reader
one-shots:
bringer of chaos - with the reveal of you as the ua traitor, 1-a and the pro heroes now have to face the war coming to them. by the bringer of chaos.
STAR WARS
din djarin x reader
series:
clan of three (completed) - a mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. an unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.
crossing a line (a clan of three one-shot) - high stakes can be the reason the innocence begins to crack.
poe dameron x reader
series:
lost in time (coming soon)- frozen since the clone wars, a jedi general searches for her purpose in the battle that has not ceased.
THE LAST OF US
joel miller x reader
series:
where the wild things are - wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.
MARVEL
peter parker x reader
series:
new life (discontinued)- you lived a normal life get up, go to school, head back home, and repeat. it was until your school had an interesting meeting with the one and only tony stark. will meeting him be the best moment of your life or the worst.
one-shot:
you're everything to me - hi! i absolutely love your writing omg!! i was wondering if you could do a 1 and 13 with peter parker and stark!reader, please? thanks 💜 (request)
the revengers - your dad goes out with the other avengers not knowing your band is performing there.
imagines:
imagine staying up all night studying for a big exam but your boyfriend peter wants you to sleep
steve rogers x reader
series:
sign of the beast (discontinued)- you wanted it to stop, you thought it was just a bad dream your brain created to mess with you. but how wrong you were, with this disease in you, can you get this beast out of you or let this darkness take over. (marvel x spn crossover)
avengers x reader
one-shots:
i am iron man - a final stand that would determine the fate of the universe
imagines:
imagine finding out your dad is tony stark when you fix his equation during a speech
SUPERNATURAL
dean winchester x reader
series:
sweetheart (discontinued)- going through her first year of college she meets her new history teacher, mr. winchester. the moment he locked eyes with her he was hooked. she was going to be his, no matter what consequences came with it.
one-shots:
heavy - when a hunt goes wrong will the reader be able to face her fear or end at the fail with a bad consequence.
sixteen going on seventeen - dean is way too overbearing with the reader. that causes things to be let out. (high school au)
am i interrupting? - you walk in on sam and eileen having some fun.
sam winchester x reader
one-shots:
hunter to queen - receiving a letter saying that changes her entire future. is she ready to leave her life as a hunter?
imagines:
imagine playing with sam’s hair
imagine finding out you’re the heir to the throne
castiel x reader
one-shots:
no grace is going to cure this -when castiel finds out that the reader has depression he tries using his grace to heal her but realizes he can’t.
misc. x reader
series:
i'm sorry (discontinued)- y/n winchester. the daughter of dean winchester always had trouble following her. when in the apocalypse world you meet the archangel michael that strikes a deal for this new vessel in front of him.
sign of the beast (discontinued)- you wanted it to stop, you thought it was just a bad dream your brain created to mess with you. but how wrong you were, with this disease in you, can you get this beast out of you or let this darkness take over. (marvel x spn crossover)
one-shots:
tell me i'm adored - when lucifer is able to take over hell after being out of the cage he takes the reader from her brothers and takes a possessive attraction for them.
best day ever - thinking it’s a normal day in school to have your world turn upside down.
imagines:
imagine finding out you're michael’s vessel
imagine being the one to shoot god and are now having visions
imagine being chuck’s firstborn and him not having the strength to kill you so he makes you human
#navigation#my masterlist#dumbbitchenergy#series#one shot#imagine#mcu#marvel#spn#supernatural#mha#my hero academia#star wars#tlou#the last of us
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Any Fan's Dream, Part 21
Taglist: @secretly-sirens, @zeeader, @imdoingathingmom, @x-theolivia, @ainsley-official, @huntress-artemiss, @hoohoohope, @ourgoddessathena, @wiintaersoldier, @vine-enthusiast, @afraidofshrimp, @myfturn, @im-better-than-your-newborn, , @mjaudrey, @igotthisasajokeyetimstillhere, @starr60, @coldmermaidhologram, @daenerysluvrr, @viperchick47, @marvelwomen-arehot, @mynightandstars
So, recently this fic hasn't had much interaction, and I'm not sure why. One of you told me that it can be buggy and hard to reach, so I'm sorry abt that but if you ever wonder abt updates, I'm gonna start up dating every saturday. Just go to my masterlist, then to the afd masterlist and to the new chapter. Hopefully you're all able to find it now. This will be the last time I post the masterlist because it hasn't been working well.
Any Fan's Dream Masterlist
Synopsis:
When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.
Your migraine and your recent suffocation seemed to get along great (unfortunately for your head).
Your breathing was labored, your throat was aching and scratchy, and you were struggling to speak.
Overall, a great time.
You struggled to sit up against the cool cement ball behind you, head spinning as you did so. Finally managing to get your back to the wall, you tried to prop yourself up using it, slowly rising to your feet. You were disoriented, barely managing to keep your balance even with the wall supporting you. Your brain didn't seem to want to remember what had happened to lead to you waking up on the floor in pain but you forced yourself to remember.
The voice over the intercom, the lights going out, and someone pulling you away from your friends and suffocating you. Your entire body trembled at the memory of being so helpless while you were taken away from the people you cared about.
Now wasn't the time to think about that though, there were people talking in this room, you could hear them faintly.
You tried to say something, opening your mouth and hardly a noise leaving it. You began to panic, why couldn't you speak? You tried to clear your throat, the action only inciting more pain in the abused area.
You licked your lips, trying again.
Barely a whisper came out.
You took that as progress, trying again, this time your words coming out in a soft rasp.
"I-" you faltered, struggling to say the rest of the words. "I'm over here."
The voices stopped.
Rapid footsteps approached you, a lot of them. You could see them: Thor, Steve, Wanda, Bucky, and Clint, but the light from the glowing cells didn't reach you.
"(y/n), where are you?" Steve's voice was bordering on frantic. "(y/n)?"
"Here," you managed to force out the single word slightly easier than before.
Bucky was the first to find you, being more familiar with the room than the rest of the group. He had followed your voice, getting close enough to hear your labored breathing.
You could see the outline of his body and the faintest glint of light off his metal arm. You reached out, your fingers brushing the metal.
He stiffened. "She's over here."
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked.
You managed a raspy, "yes," barely managing to stay standing.
Bucky steeled himself, seeing how you struggled to stand upright, knowing you'd need someone to brace yourself as you moved. He wasn't great with people touching him, too used to the abuse that physical interaction was with Hydra.
Wanda found the two of you, deathly concerned for you. "(y/n), could I wrap an arm around you? We should get out of here."
You wanted to say that you could walk by yourself, but you were at the point that even you could admit that you needed help. "Yeah, go ahead."
Wanda felt her heart squeeze at your voice, but grabbed your arm, setting it over her shoulder while she wrapped an arm around your torso.
With Wanda's body supporting your own, you managed to hobble out of the shadows, the rest of them returning to the entrance of the room once they saw you.
Your legs were fine but your head was pounding almost as bad as it was when you'd first gotten the concussion. You were worried that if Wanda let go of you you would just crumple to the floor. Your head was bothering you so much that you missed the unconscious assassins on the floor until Thor began picking them up like sacks of flour.
For a moment you thought they were dead, but you saw the rise and fall of their chests after a moment. They weren't the only people you missed in your dazed state.
Your eyes went round when they landed on Scott and Sam who were flanking Zemo, the man in between them in restraints. He looked up as you emerged from the shadows with Wanda, feeling ashamed when he saw the state you were in.
"I apologize, (y/n)(l/n)."
"Don't speak to her." Wanda's eyes glowed red, like the warning light of an alarm.
She escorted you back to the entrance of the bunker, Thor following behind the two of you, ready to drop everything in case you needed extra help to walk (quite literally, he was ready to drop the four assassins stacked in his arms if you needed help).
As of that day hadn’t been bad enough already, somebody was waiting outside the entrance as the three of you exited the bunker.
You cursed in your head, remembering what was supposed to happen in this part of the movie.
T'Challa was supposed to find out that Bucky hadn't been the one to bomb the building that resulted in his father's death, but with your plot-changes, you had arrived before he did and he didn't know.
He was here for Bucky.
"Your majesty," you greeted, voice still fucked up, too soft for this situation. "There's something you need to know-"
You stopped, hearing the footsteps behind you and the way T'Challa had tensed. You turned around, seeing the rest of the group, both Steve and Bucky carrying an unconscious assassin.
Steve saw the king, looking in between his best friend and the man that wanted to kill him. "Bucky didn't set off the bomb, your majesty. It wasn't him."
T'Challa took his word with a grain of salt, knowing the extent to which he had already gone to protect his best friend and figuring that Steve would say just about anything to protect Bucky.
Too blinded by his own rage, T'Challa attacked, almost managing to slip past Steve to get to his true target. Steve dropped the person in his arms, stepping around them quickly and pulling T'Challa back before putting himself between the vengeful king and the tortured veteran.
Steve was fighting T'Challa, but he was fighting and losing.
His shield was still on his back and T'Challa wasn't allowing any time for him to grab it. Without the vibranium barrier, he was stuck with evading T'Challa's claws, no time to land his own punches on the man.
T'Challa was ferocious, driven by vengeful rage, but still fighting with the finesse you had seen in the movies. He didn't allow his emotions to cloud his mind because although he currently had the upper hand, he knew that the man he was fighting could overpower him if he got sloppy.
You watched in horror as Bucky joined the fight, knowing just how powerful T'Challa's determination was.
T'Challa's hand swiped at Bucky's throat, claws grazing his neck just barely, a line of red appearing as a shallow cut formed.
"Stop! Please!" You were desperate.
This couldn't be what happened.
"STOP FUCKING FIGHTING!! SERGEANT BARNES DIDN'T SET OFF THE EXPLOSION!" You were fed up. You did not go through an explosion, days on your feet with a concussion, and getting suffocated just for this shit to happen. "I WAS THERE, REMEMBER?? I JUMED IN FRONT OF YOUR FATHER! IT WASN'T SERGEANT BARNES!!"
Deafened by his own grief and anger, T'Challa continued fighting.
He saw it.
Bucky staggered, the snow messing up his movement. He managed to catch himself almost instantly, but T'Challa had already reached out, claws striking out like a knife.
"I SAID TO FUCKING STOP!" You jumped in the way before it could happen, unwilling to let James Buchanan Barnes die over a stupid misunderstanding.
T'Challa's eyes went wide when he realized what was happening, but his claws plunged into your skin before he could stop. He pulled back, but it was too late.
You looked down dazedly. "What the fuck."
And you passed out.
~~
Wanda's voice was high with worry. "(y/n)! (y/n)!" She ran to you, stumbling in the snow and cursing the world.
"LADY (Y/N)!" Thor bellowed, rushing to you.
Bucky caught you.
You had shielded him, jumped in front of him, and took fucking knives for him.
Why?
The fight stopped, Steve running to you while Clint did the same and Sam started the quinjet so that they could get you out of there and to medical attention as fast as possible.
Steve's heart almost stopped.
There was so much blood.
You had been stabbed mostly in the arm, but also on the side of your torso. Two of his claws had punctured scarily deep into your arm, one had just barely grazed your arm, while the other had went deep into your side.
Steve took you from Bucky, cradling you in his arms while he sprinted to the quinjet. The rest of the team followed him, T'Challa watching regretfully. He had never meant to hurt you. He just needed Barnes to pay for what he'd done. But not you. You were the reason his father survived the explosion.
Half of him was urging him to run after Barnes, to get him and make him feel the pain T'Challa had felt when his father had been hurt. He had to stop himself, recalling what you'd yelled to make them stop fighting. Sure, you could've just been saying anything to get them to stop fighting, but he didn't think you were lying. After all, you were also injured in the explosion, and if Barnes was the man behind it, that meant you had just risked your life for the man.
~~
Since the moment Bucky had seen you, you had instilled nothing but confusion within him. Who were you? Why were you so welcoming to him? Why were you so eager to help?
But at the moment, one question prevailed.
Why had you saved his life at the risk of your own?
Everything had been a blur during the fight, but he had immediately known what was going to happen the moment he stumbled in the snow. Sure, it had only slowed him down slightly, but he knew that that second would mean his death.
And while that should've scared him, he could only remember all the lives he'd taken. All the pain caused at his hands and the decades of torture he'd endured and the nightmares that made sleeping more than impossible.
After all the blood he spilled, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was a fitting way to die.
Violently, painfully--just the way he'd hurt so many others.
He thought that maybe he deserved it.
But instead of those claws plunging into his body, they went into yours.
You, the person he barely knew, the one he'd only just met.
Young, happy, with people who cared about you. He didn't know you well---he hardly knew you at all---but even he could see how much you cared about the people you surrounded yourself with.
So, yeah, maybe he did deserve to die in the way he'd killed so many others, but he knew you didn't deserve that fate.
~~
"Tony-"
"What are you doing calling me? You've made it pretty clear-"
"For once in your life, shut the fuck up!" Steve was fed-up and worried. He had just lost Peggy, he didn't want to lose another person he cared about. "(y/n)'s hurt."
"She's hurt?" Tony instantly went serious. "How bad?"
"It doesn't look good," Steve was unsteady, hardly believing what was happening. "We're trying to get to a hospital but there's none anywhere nearby."
~~
Tony hadn't had a good day in a while.
With the Accords announced and the problems that arose with that---with Steve---a rift had formed between the team. Not to mention how Steve's friend had bombed the signing of the Accords, only for it turn out that he had most likely been framed. And last, but most definitely not least, the leaking of the Accords had caused even more of a shitstorm.
Seeing some of the things that had been exposed, Tony was almost relieved. With the outrage the public was showing towards the Accords and the proof of the unethical aspects of it, all the governments behind the Accords were going to have to reevaluate their stance on it and figure out if they were worth the risk of uprising in their countries.
The Avengers had saved too many lives, inspired too many people, for those very people to allow their heroes to be treated like war criminals. That said, there were of course the people who still supported the Accords, but the number of those people were shrinking the more information was uncovered.
With the last week full of enough shit to fill up every Porta-Potty on the planet, Tony really shouldn't have been surprised that it would only get worse.
You were hurt.
And from the sound of Steve's voice, you were hurt bad.
Was it not enough that he had to deal with the fear and worry when you'd been caught in the explosion? This time, you weren't even with him. He couldn't help you at all. You were in pain and possibly dying and he was stuck waiting in his private jet for his phone to track Steve's so that he could figure out where you were.
Once his phone had pinpointed Steve's location, he instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to follow them until they caught up. But even going as fast as they were, he knew he wouldn't catch them for at least two hours.
"Tony, what happened?" Natasha was pretty sure she knew exactly what had happened, but she didn't want her suspicions to be true.
Peter already knew.
With his enhanced senses, he'd heard exactly what had been said on the phone.
You were hurt.
And he was useless to help you.
~~
Thor looked up at Steve's words.
You were lain out on the floor, Wanda and Clint trying to stop your bleeding. You'd already lost a lot of blood, if they didn't get real medical help soon, he knew you wouldn't survive. If Steve was right and there weren't any hospitals nearby, you were doomed to death. After all, you were only human. If you had been a god you would-
Thor's eyes lit up, knowing exactly how to help you.
"I must take Lady (y/n)." Thor spoke, everyone looking to him. "I can get her help better than any human could provide." He was already moving to you, both Wanda and Clint hesitant to let him take you but too worried about what would happen to you if he didn't.
"What are you going to do?" Steve asked.
"Take her to Asgard."
#mcu#marvel x reader#the avengers#avengers x reader#tony stark#clint barton#steve rodgers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#peter parker x reader#loki x reader#thor x reader#wanda maxmoff x y/n#steve rogers#bucky x y/n#natasha romanoff#peter parker#wanda x reader#loki laufeyson#any fan's dream
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Pacifier pt 3
pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;
word count: 5K
part1 part2
warnings: mentions of sex ; Peter is younger than the reader, but still 18. Reader is around 20. Peter is trying to pin reader even though he is younger.
summary: In this one you’re hired as Morgan’s babysitter (and low-key underpaid Stark!assistant). Looking after a little girl isn’t too hard, but looking after her “big bother” as well, definitely is.
an: Peter and reader are just Tony's kids at this point. I've never really written anything about people actually being in a relationship so apologies if it's kinda sucky.
"No, we're not making an official Avengers tik-tok account, forget it." You told Peter, who had been begging you for days now.
"But it's going to be soo good! People will see the silly, goofie side of everyone and that way we can build more trust!"
"Pepper, please back me up here!"
"Peter actually has a point." Pepper said.
All of you were sitting at the dinner table, it was the first family dinner since the Starks had come back from their vacation.
"Tony, please!" you looked at him, begging him to support you this time. "Do you seriously think anyone would want to participate in supid dance trends or prank wars?"
"I'm a great dancer!" Tony said, he was taking Peter's side to mess with you.
"I cannot believe this is actually about to happen. Imagine making Steve do a tik-tok dance. Or anyone for that matter. Imagine Tony doing the makarena in the iron suit!"
"It's going to be hilarious, exactly my point!" Peter whined, drinking some of the orange juice he had poured for himself.
"I'm not doing the makarena, I have a daughter!''
"Should have thought about it before backing up Spider-man on that one!"
"Should have thought about it before back up Spider-man on that one!" Tony mocked your tone "The world should see what these hips can do! We're definitely making a tik-tok account now!"
Your "relationship" with Peter was still in the closet, since the first month wasn’t over, you didn't really feel comfortable sharing it with anyone, especially Tony. Peter on the other hand was pretty much settled down. He spent every free minute he had at the tower just to be with you, which was really getting in the way of your studying. He was a lot of help with Morgan, most of the time you felt like both of them shared one brain cell. It made so much sense now why Tony loved Peter like his own son. And that being the case, your secret relationship with him was in the clear.
You gave Morgan a tissue, helping her wipe away some of the food that was on her face. She giggled because the corner tickled her nose, turning to look at you. You smiled at her, petting her head as she continued eating with her spoon, spilling most of the contents all over the table.
"Tony, do you even know what tik-tok is?" you asked.
"I'm not that told, of course I know!"
"It's that video app that Morgan watches on your phone." You explained anyway, sure he had no idea what the conversation really was about.
"It's that? Then no, we're definitely not making a tik-tok account."
---
Somehow Peter managed to persuade all of you into this. But if you think about it, he persuaded you into dating him, he could practically get anything he wanted. And because of this absurd idea, you were now setting up a phone on a tripod, placing it in the middle of the living room. Peter was next to you in his spider suit and the other Avengers were talking on the couch while you two worked.
"So you guys have to go rounds?" you asked, looking over at Peter. He had his mask off, holding it in one hand.
"Yeah, and after we film, we have to put the names after every round with an X on an O, depending on who managed to hide in time."
"Sometimes I think you started this whole thing because you don't have any friends."
"I have friends?"
You took a few steps back, seeing what was in the frame.
"Yeah? Like who? And you're not allowed to say me, we're not friends."
"Well, there's Ned and MJ."
"I don't think this is going to work out." You said, looking at the others. "You literally have gigantic, muscular men, trying to hide in a minimalistic living room. And then there's also the Hulk."
“Did you just thirst over muscular men right in front of me?” Peter laughed, placing his hand on your waist. Usually you would tense up when he did that, but since you were now dating, you didn't. "Trust me, it will be fun!"
"Mask on please, get everyone in position."
He nodded, putting his mask on and telling everyone to gather in front of the camera and pose. You stood behind the phone, looking at the frame. Everyone was in it. They were gathering like they were about to take a picture, standing in cool superhero poses.
"Okay guys, you look poster worthy. I'll count to 3 and all of you have 5 seconds to hide somewhere before the camera takes a picture!" you explained. Peter had ran through this with them before but you felt the need to explain again. "1, 2, 3..."
And you pressed record. Pure chaos was unleashed after that. Peter shot a web and stuck to the ceiling, Thor jumped over the couch along with Cap, laying flat on it so they were not visible. Hulk just grabbed the couch with both of them on it, lifting it and putting it in front of him sideways, while the others just fell on the ground on top of each other. Natasha practically jumped on an armchair that got knocked over from her force and got out of the frame entirely. The 5 seconds were over and you were barely holding in your laughter at that point. You had expected this to go badly but not nearly as bad as it actually was.
You did a few more rounds, each one more ridiculous than the previous. And after that you got to work, writing out the winners and losers to each round in your notes. Now all that was left was editing it and posting.
—
You were sitting at your desk, biting your lip as you were concentrating on figuring out where to place all the names and scores on the screen so they wouldn’t block out any important things in the video. Or should you have them appear at the end? Your work was interrupted by Peter walking in your room, making your head turn. He had the mask in his hand, still wearing the suit.
“Hi, pumpkin!” he said, which made you raise an eyebrow at him and squint your eyes in displeasure.
“That sounded ridiculously cheesy and I really hate it.’’
“I thought introducing some kind of pet name into this relationship would be nice, I need to change your name in my phone.”
“Think of another one.”
He walked over to you, a gentle kiss was immediately placed on the top of your head while his eyes wandered to your phone, looking as the video played with half of the scorings written in the middle of it.
“Ooo, did I win?” he asked, his hand resting on your shoulder.
“Mmmm, you didn’t lose definitely, but you lost a point on the third round when you stuck yourself in fetal position to Hulk’s back and he started spinning in circles trying to get you off.”
“That’s not fair! I hid well!”
“But the camera still saw you, I don’t make the rules.”
He kissed your cheek before laying down on your bed. You finished up the video and hit upload before following him. It was still new and uncomfortable for you to be affectionate with him in public, but your room offered a safe space to try. You wouldn’t shut him down when he tried making a move on you in front of the others like you used to do, but initiating intimacy yourself was really out of the picture. He put his phone away when he saw you get up, opening his arms. You lay on top of him as he wrapped his arms in a warm embrace. You relaxed your weight on him, head pressed against his chest. Cons to having a spider-man boyfriend was you were never worried you’d crush him.
“I need to say something and I don’t want it to turn into a fight.” he said, making you look at him.
You placed your hands on top of his chest, resting your head on them as you watched him.
“What is it about?” you asked.
“Since the month of us trying to date is almost over…”
“Pete… I know what you’re gonna say and the month isn’t over yet. Please don’t let it get over your head before it actually happens.”
“But we’re a week away from a month!”
“I know but a lot can happen in a week… You know exactly how much.” You told him, referring to the time you two had spent alone together almost a month ago.
“Okay, okay, baby mice steps. I get it.”
“Precisely.”
You tried to relax after the conversation, laying your head on his chest while he stroked your back gently. For some reason it was just not working to calm you down. You turned to look at him again and he was already staring, a soft smile painted across his lips. A soft sigh escaped yours, your hands reaching out to wrap around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. Still feeling uneasy from what he said, you slid your body on one of his sides, hiding your face in his neck. He giggled softly because you tickled him in the process, squeezing you gently.
“I’m sorry.” you mumbled against his neck, your hand drawing soft circles on his chest.
Peter hummed softly, raising your chin with his hand to place a soft kiss on your lips.
“It’s okay, I know I’m impatient.”
“No, I think you’re being reasonable. I’m the one who’s overreacting.”
He kissed you again, slowly and gently, his lips moving against yours while he still held your chin with his hand.
“You’re alright, babe. Baby steps.”
You nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder this time, placing soft kisses on his jawline.
“Baby steps.” You repeated in a whisper.
You enjoyed cuddling with him more than you had anticipated, neither of you expected your primary love language to be physical touch. But Peter didn’t mind that even one bit, he loved touching you for comfort, his hands were on your legs whenever you two went somewhere with the car, no matter who was driving. He would make sure to place his hand one the small of your back whenever you two would pass each other in a hallway. His knee would touch yours under the dinner table when he was over. It was subtle and it brought the both of you so much comfort and adrenaline. You were basically hiding in plain sight.
You had no idea if Tony was onto the two of you yet or not. Peter was over way more than he used to be, he even sneaked in a few times during the night. The alarms wouldn’t go off because, well it was Peter after all. It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak in someone who wasn’t registered into the security systems. And Tony adored the kid, so he was extra happy about having him around more. Things were going pretty smoothly if anyone had to ask you.
—
You hated to admit, but Peter was right. This whole tik-tok thing was an absolute hit. It humanized all of the Avengers so much that people started trusting and liking them more than ever before. You were getting millions of likes and comments on all of the videos you uploaded, which were more or less different trends. It was annoying that you had to run the whole account, like you didn’t have enough work to do.
Today you filmed the tortilla slap challenge with Bucky, Natasha and Sam. Peter desperately wanted to join it but everyone was against the idea of him publicly announcing his secret identity, especially for a tik-tok. So you made him mop up the floor after, since he wanted to be involved so badly.
All of them went into a meeting straight after that, leaving you with 10 minutes to run and grab a coffee for everyone. The 10 minutes you had were definitely not enough to make it back with so many cups. And to top it all off, the Parker family was on a mission to make it extra difficult for you. Peter was spamming your messages begging you to listen to “Yellow hearts” by Ant Saunders because somehow it was “exactly describing the relationship you two had.” And you were walking down a street, trying to reply to a message, hands full of coffee cups, when you ran into Peter’s aunt - May.
“Oh, Y\N! Lovely seeing you!” she said with a bright cheerful smile, making you look up from your phone. You were trying to support the cups with your chin while you texted, because all of them couldn’t fit in the paper bag.
“May! Hey!” you replied once you shook off the surprise, shoving the phone in your back pocket.
“How are you, sweetheart? I’ve been hearing about you lately, but not seeing enough.” she smiled, placing a hand on your arm as she spoke.
“I’m alright, a little busy actually. Are you here to pick up Parker JR after the meeting?”
“Yes, and I thought I could drink some coffee while I’m waiting. Peter recommended the place.”
“He did, didn’t he?” you asked, trying to mask how frustrated and overwhelmed you were becoming. “I need to run, I’m already late.”
“It’s okay, we can catch up another time? Dinner over at Queens this week?” she asked, but you were already walking away from her.
You turned your head to look at her in a little bit of a shock, not expecting a whole dinner invitation to her house. Your fears turned out to be true, Peter had told her about dating you.
“I’m very busy, I’ll tell the spider whenever I can.” You smiled politely at her before walking away, in the most rapid pace you could manage without actually running.
--
“Hey, kid, these are for you.” you heard Tony say as he walked into the living room.
You were helping Morgan with a coloring book, or rather watching her color in it from time to time while you read through your biology textbook. Exams were coming up and you didn’t have a second to spare. Tony’s voice captured your attention, making you look up and see him hold a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white roses, decorated with little daisies.
“For me? Thank you Tony, but that’s so weird.”
“They’re not from me. They were left for you at the door.”
“The front door?”
“No, by the doggy door.”
You rolled your eyes at his comment, getting up to look at the flowers yourself. In the meantime Tony took the card out reading out loud. You tried stopping him by grabbing the card but he lifted his hand up, making you jump to try to get it but failing.
“Thank you for coming to dinner last night, love, your secret boyfriend.” he read, looking at you in shock “You have a boyfriend?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Does Peter know about you having a boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Yes, and he’s not sending you flowers at your door for having dinner with him. Who is he?”
“Tony, you’re not my dad.”
Your words made him snap out of his protective mode, giving you the flowers and the note. You took them in your arms reluctantly, reading the note to be sure he was actually right about what was written on it. Tony looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t really decode, it looked like shock, pain and worry at the same time. You were going to kill Peter, for real this time.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” you said, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the two of you.
He placed an arm on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
“Nothing to apologize for here, I know I can never replace your parents, I’m not trying either.” Tony gave your shoulder a pat, turning around to look at Morgan, who had stopped coloring and was now listening to the two of you.
“Thank you… For worrying about me, I appreciate it. I know I don’t say it enough but I value your presence in my life, or rather my presence is yours.”
“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already is.”
“Usually I’m the one who says that.”
“Would you look at that, your boyfriend has made you cheesy.”
You shook your head in disgust from his words, watching him as he walked over to Morgan and lifted her up in his arms, spinning around as he hugged her. It was your queue to leave before it got any weirder, so you gathered your books and left as fast as you could.
Shutting the door of your room behind you, phone on your ear as you had already dialed Peter’s number. He picked up on the fourth ring, right before you gave up on this call.
“Hey!” His cheerful voice on the other side of the line.
“What’s with those flowers?” you asked, cutting right to the chase.
“Don’t you like them? May said it was what I was supposed to do after you came over for dinner and she said flowers would be a ni-”
“I love the flowers, but Tony found them before I did.”
“Oh.”
“Thank you for not being dumb enough to not sign your name on that card.” you sighed, placing the bouquet on your desk next to the messy piles of notebooks. “Now he thinks I have a boyfriend.”
“But you do have a boyfriend.” he laughed softly. You could hear his smile on the other side of the line.
“I know this label makes you very happy, I’m glad it does, but please be more careful next time.”
“Alright, bet, next time I want to bring you flowers I’ll stick them to the ceiling of your room with my webs so no one else can see them.”
“Now that’s a thought.” you laughed, looking at the ceiling just to make sure he hadn’t already done that.
In reality, you weren’t mad at him for sending you flowers. You loved them, it was a very nice gesture and it made you feel warm on the inside. Sure, it wasn’t the best way to receive them and it stressed you out, but at the end of the day, you had a very good boyfriend that wanted to make you happy.
—
Peter walked in the apartment holding a red rose in his hand. His smile was spread across his face as the elevator door opened in front of him, leading him into the big living space. He came here straight from school, after his Math quiz. He didn’t bother going home first to leave his backpack, went straight to a flower shop to get you a rose and head to the Stark tower so he could invite you on a very special date. He expected you to be watching over Morgan alone and it caught him by surprise when he saw Tony sitting on the couch. You were standing next to him, reading over something which he had probably given you. Tony turned his head, noticing it was Peter with the side of his eye.
“Hey, kid.” he said.
Peter froze in his spot, his heart pounding in his chest from the fear of how this was going to play out. He had to think of something really fast. He threw the rose in the air as Tony’s head moved to face you again for a second, shooting a web at it to stick it to the ceiling.
“What’s with that rose?” Tony asked a second later, after he processed what he had seen, turning fully around to look at Peter.
“What rose?” Peter replied, looking around, his hands empty now.
“I swear you were holding a rose just now.”
“No, I wasn’t. Maybe you saw my Math quiz with this big red A written on it.” The paper was folded in half and shoved in his back pocket because he was in such a rush to get here, he didn’t have time to put it in his bag. He took the paper out of his pocket, showing it to Tony.
Their conversation made you look up at Peter. You knew he was lying. The tone of his voice sounded nervous and like he was going to crack under the pressure.
“You need to work on your lying skills.” Tony said, turning his back to him and looking at you again. You looked at Peter, then at Tony and your gaze fell on the papers.
“Everything seems fine.” You told Tony, handing him the red folder back. He had hired some new engineers for his labs, helping him and wanted you to review their work just in case. It wasn’t like you were majoring in engineering, your passion was biology and biochemistry, but you just knew math well enough to spot any mistake if there was any.
“Okay, thank you. You’re free now” He told you, reading through the folder again.
Ten minutes later Tony was still sitting on the couch, reading through the folder. You and Peter silently decided to study on the kitchen table across from each other. You were already engrossed in the textbook you were reading, highlighting, writing things down in your notebook, sticking sticky notes in the book. You were trying your best to ignore Peter’s constant fidgeting in his seat, the annoyed flipping through pages with sighs escaping his lips. His hands moving on the table when he would get bored, making you flinch in your seat, worried he would try to touch you in front of Tony. You heard silent ripping of paper, trying to ignore it, but Peter threw it a small paper ball at you to get your attention. You looked over at him, annoyed by his overall behavior in the last 10 minutes. Both of you had finals knocking at your doors and he was doing everything in his power to distract you. He pointed at the ceiling as soon as your eyes met, making you look in the direction. And there it was, the rose Tony was talking about earlier, a single red rose, webbed onto the ceiling. You wanted to burst out laughing but held yourself back, looking at Peter again. He was writing something, passing it to you a few seconds later.
“Will you be my prom date?” it read, looking at him and shaking your head no. You had already told him a million times you were not going to do it. He pouted, putting his hands together and locking his fingers into a prayer, begging you to say yes. You shook your head again, giving him back the note.
“What the hell are you two doing?” Tony asked, making the two of you jump in your seats.
He had been looking at the two of you for the past 5 minutes, he saw the rose as well, saw Peter begging you and you declining. He was standing by the table. This whole time you felt like you were in detention with Peter, and now that Tony caught you, the feeling got deeper. Neither of you said anything, staring at Tony in shock. And since you wouldn’t speak, Tony took the paper and laughed.
“I don’t think her boyfriend is gonna like that.”
“Her boyfriend?” Peter asked, looking at you.
“Yeah, she has a boyfriend.”
“I don’t think he’ll mind.” Peter continued.
“I definitely think he will.”
“No he won’t, he’ll be quite happy actually.”
“What is making you think that?”
“Because it’s me, I’m her boyfriend.”
You didn’t say a word the entire conversation. A few weird looks were shared between the three of you in complete silence. You felt like you wanted to die. Peter turned to stare at you, waiting for you to confirm it. Tony was staring at you too, unsure if this was real or another attempt of Peter’s to flirt with you. Then he laughed, Tony started laughing loudly and sincerely. He was laughing so hard you could see a tear running down his cheek. Peter whined, throwing his head back in frustration from his reaction.
“It’s true! Tell him!”
You gulped, looking at the still-laughing Tony.
“It is.” you almost whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you.
“Wait.” Tony stopped, looking at the two of you with furrowed brows. “Really?”
“Yeah.” you said, nodding softly.
—
The lights flashed softly as you walked in, blinding you for a second. You tried to walk in a straight line but the lights did not help you at all. You grabbed Peter’s arm for support, scared you would miss a threshold that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and trip. Peter looked over at you in concern, thinking something had suddenly made you anxious. You looked at him as well, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the light changing all of a sudden. Your hand was holding his biceps, squeezing it softly. He placed his other hand on yours, patting softly. He stared at you until you nodded that you were okay now and you could continue walking. Of all the cringe things you were expecting to see tonight, a disco ball was definitely not on the list.
“Penis Parker with an actual date to prom? This will go down in history as the biggest plot twist!” You heard a somewhat familiar voice from behind you, turning around only to be faced with Flash.
“Oh, it’s that annoying guy.” You said, looking at Peter, who nodded in agreement.
“Wait, I know you, you were at my party once.”
“Unfortunately, yes, I was.”
“Why are you with that loser, ditch him, you should be my date instead.” Flash said, reaching a level of annoyance you didn’t even know existed.
“Sorry, I don’t do charity work on evenings but you can try the homeless kitchen in Queens on Saturdays and Tuesdays, I’m usually there to help on those days.” you told him as Peter wrapped his arm around your waist. “Plus we’re kind of already matching.” you pointed at Peter. “Your costume wannabe will clash with my dress and that’s a big no from me.”
Peter was trying his best not to laugh as you were absolutely destroying Flash verbally. It brought back memories from when you used to do the same with his attempts to flirt.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t want to know what kind of sado-maso sex you two freaks are having.”
“Did you just call me a sadist? I didn’t know you could read people so well, Flash!” you asked, looking at Peter for back up.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Peter said, pulling you closer to him and walking the two of you away. “That was brutal, can’t let you ruin his ego on his prom night!”
“Someone had to do it!” you whined, your hands crossing in front of your chest.
“We’re here to have a good time! Come on! Let’s dance and not think about Flash.”
“Remind me, how exactly did you convince me to come to this? I hated my own prom and I’m definitely hating yours too.”
“You want me to remind you?”
You nodded, his hands resting on each side of your hips as he looked at you. His forehead pressed against yours, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
“Are you sure you want me to remind you here?” he whispered in your ear.
You nodded again, looking at him. Your arms still crossed on your chest.
“In front of all these people?” He asked with a fake shocked expression on his face, pulling your body closer. You rolled your eyes at him, his arms wrapping around you, chests pressed together.
Your heartbeat accelerated as you looked at him, faces inches away from each other. His hot breath glided across the skin on your face, making your eyes fall shut as his lips gently touched yours. His fingers dug into the soft skin on your back. You rested your hands on his chest as he kissed you, consciously trying not to ruin his suit by grabbing anything you shouldn’t. He wasn’t that careful tho, his other hands scrunching the fabric that was so perfectly wrapped around your waistline, in desperate attempts to feel your body closer to his.
“Did I remind you?” he asked, breath heavy as he broke the kiss seconds before.
“You basically just admit to seducing me into this.” you told him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you gently to the rhythm of the blues that was playing in the background.
“You can never just fall on your back, can you?”
“Never!”
The two of you laughed, him kissing your forehead as you continued swaying, wrapped in each other's embrace.
---
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can’t get close | ch. one
☛ series taglist ♪ series playlist ✎ series masterlist
w/c: 5,542
warnings: explicit language, smoking, drug use, references to sexual activity, adult content throughout
summary: peter parker agrees to tutor you in physics for one reason and one reason only; you’re paying him. but, it quickly becomes about more than the money.
a/n: i’ve had this in the drafts for a long ass time and i’m so stoked i finally get to share it with y’all omg i hope you enjoy this series as much as i do bc i can’t wait for you to see what’s next! also a reminder that all characters are of age and you should only proceed if you’re 18+! feedback is appreciated, much love to you <3
“fuck.”
you’re looking over the physics test your teacher just handed back, trying to make sense of her many markings. each page is covered in streaks of red pen from top to bottom. psychics isn’t your strongest subject by any means, but you didn’t think it was this weak. your heart nearly falls out of your chest when you read your grade.
you failed.
by one point.
screw physics, and screw ms. warren, too.
“shit,” you curse, slamming the test down on your desk. harry looks back at you. “something the matter, y/l/n? what’s got your panties in a twist?” he wonders with that stupid smirk of his. “not you, that’s for sure,” you retort. “ooh, feisty today, are we?” he observes.
harry turns around in his seat to face you properly. he leans his elbows on your desk, the smirk still evident on his features. you glare at your test score written in big, red numbers.
it’s almost as if it’s taunting you.
“seriously, you good?” harry checks. “you could always talk to me, y/l/n,” he nudges your foot with his own. “i failed, harry. i fucking failed the test,” you mutter. “what? lemme see,” harry demands.
you wordlessly push your test towards him. he picks it up and examines it, frowning at the paper in his hands. you press your lips together.
“just a point off, huh? it could be worse. shit was hard, man,” harry comforts you, giving you your test. you put it face-down this time. “yeah? what’d you get?” you challenge. “that’s between me and warren,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “so what i’m hearing is, you passed,” you conclude. “barely, but i didn’t want you to feel bad,” he admits. “nothing could make me feel worse than the fatass F on my paper,” you deadpan.
your gaze lands on peter parker up at ms. warren’s desk, watching their exchange.
“excellent work, peter. i was very impressed,” ms. warren compliments. she even smiles at him, something she never does. “thank you, that means a lot,” peter smiles back, retrieving his test from her. “most students get stumped on the constructed response. not you, though,” she goes on.
peter is the by far brightest student at midtown. you know it, he knows it, everybody knows it. he doesn’t have to try for it, either. he’s one of those people who’s naturally smart, shit just comes to him. you swear the kid’s brain must be wired different or something.
you think it’s pretty damn cool how genius peter is. you’ve got to wonder what it’s like being such a science whizz. you don’t have enough brain cells for it, though. you’re killing them all off, fucking around and getting high.
it’s whatever. you’re more of an english kind of gal, anyway.
“nerd alert!” harry calls to peter, hands cupped over his mouth to project his voice. peter’s brows furrow as he searches for the source of it. “dude, leave him,” you smack at his chest.
the bell rings, signaling the end of the period. your classmates hurry out of their seats and file towards the door. ms. warren reminds everyone of an upcoming homework assignment on the way out. you flip her off behind her back, to which harry snickers at.
“lunchtime,” you wiggle your eyebrows. “let’s go smoke.”
“jeez, y/n. what did you get right?” liz murmurs, flipping through your physics test. “not much, as you can see,” you answer. you take a long drag from your cigarette before passing it off to harry. “hey, it’s no big deal. there’s always the next one,” harry tries.
you’re seated at your usual picnic table outside. you sit up on the tabletop with harry and liz on the bench facing you. harry inhales smoke from the cigarette and puffs it out in your face. you waft the smoke back towards him with a giggle, liz sighing at both of your childish behavior.
harry osborn and liz allan are your very best friends in the whole world. they’re your ride or dies. peter may be well known around midtown, but he’s not the only one. you three have got quite the reputations yourselves. just, for different attributes.
you’re the best fuck, got the best stash. harry is your dealer. liz has the brains, so she gets you and harry out of the trouble you get yourselves into. she’s not afraid to let loose from time to time, though. the three of you make the perfect trio.
“y/n, you’ve gotta get your grades up,” liz warns. “warren’s tough. she won’t think twice about failing you, and i mean for the year,” she sets your test down in your lap. “too bad i can’t fuck her for an A,” you say, snatching your cigarette back from harry.
harry flicks your knee over your jeans. you kick your foot at him in retaliation. he dodges you.
“i’m serious. i had her last year, remember?” liz asks, sipping her iced cofeee. “yeah, yeah. lucky you, you already took physics,” you speak with the cigarette between your teeth. “exactly, so i know what she’s like,” liz finishes. you exhale smoke and a chuckle along with it. “you wanna help me out then, lizzie?” you question.
“you mean, like, tutor you?” liz wonders, her features holding amusement. “why not? you’re smart, you know the curriculum. let’s do it,” you propose. “i’d love to, but i can’t. i’m really busy with decathlon, and yearbook, and…” she smiles apologetically. “say no more, madam president. i understand,” you assure her.
you jam your cigarette into the wooden table to put it out, tapping the ashes onto your physics test. you peer around the courtyard at the other tables. peter parker happens to be at one of them. he’s laughing about something with his friends, prompting your lips to pull up in a grin.
“you should ask parker to tutor you,” harry suggests. “are you out of your mind? he would never,” you scoff. “are you out of yours? he’s a pro at physics, and i’ve seen you checking him out,” he pokes your knee, hard.
you wave him off, although you don’t deny it.
“oh my god, you totally should!” liz chimes in. “i coach peter for decathlon, he’s awesome. i’m sure he’d be happy to do it,” she vouches for him. “you think so?” you narrow your eyes at her. “of course. he’s a sweetheart,” liz laughs out. “c’mon, ask him,” harry encourages. “right now?” you peek over at peter.
he’s munching on a carrot stick, listening intently as one of his friends rambles.
“not like he has much else going on,” harry states, stealing liz’s coffee and chugging what’s left of it.
you are in desperate need of a tutor. there’s no way you’re repeating physics. once is more than enough, so you’ll take all the help you can get to pass the godforsaken class. it’s your senior year. if you fail, you risk not graduating. besides, peter is an expert, and he seems chill. if anyone can help you, it’s him.
it’s worth a shot.
“sure, what the hell?” you decide, swinging your legs off the table. “attagirl! that’s the spirit!” harry cheers. “remind him there’s acadec practice after school. he hasn’t been showing for some reason,” liz requests. “peter parker cutting classes? i gotta give him more credit,” you joke.
you stand up on the bench before hopping down into the grass. you then make your way over to peter’s table. as you’re approaching him, you shake out your oversized t-shirt to rid it of the smell of smoke. you plaster on your sweetest smile and stride up to peter and his friends, going to the head of the table. the three of them are caught up in their conversation.
“what’s up, parker?” you speak up. peter’s head whips in your direction. “leeds, watson,” you nod at his friends, ned and mj. mj nods back. “y/l/n,” ned greets, trying to play cool. “to what do we owe the pleasure?” mj asks. peter merely stares up at you. “can i sit?” you ask him. “uh, yeah. go ahead,” he mumbles.
you take the empty spot on the bench next to peter. his eyes practically pop out of his head.
peter is shocked you’re talking to him. he can’t recall you two ever even speaking before now. there’s also the fact that you’re you, and he’s him. it’s not like you run in the same circles.
what’s your deal?
“you’re probably wondering what i’m doing here,” you read peter’s mind. “what if i told you i knew a way you could make a dollar or two?” you start. he perks up, interest piqued. “keep talking,” he replies, nibbling on another carrot. “tutoring. have you ever considered it?” you grin, proud of your idea.
“tutoring for what?” mj questions. “and who?” ned piggybacks. you lock eyes with peter. “me, for physics,” you reveal. peter is dumbfounded, and his face doesn’t hide it. “seriously?” he almost chokes on his carrot. “that hard to believe, huh?” you chuckle. “i mean, no offense, but…” he looks to ned and mj. “you’re not exactly the tutoring type,” mj grimaces.
“listen,” you sigh, glancing between the three of them. “it wasn’t my first choice either, but i’m failing, and that’s not an option,” you explain. “i really don’t wanna retake this shit. i won’t make it through another year… not alive, at least.”
your voice quiets towards the end of your sentence. you pick at your manicured nails, gaze drifting to the ground. peter’s lips twitch into a sympathetic frown.
this must be heavy on your mind. he’d hate to see you struggling when he knows he could help, or anyone for that matter. plus, you offered to pay. he could really use the money.
“why peter, though? why do you want him to tutor you?” mj inquires. “yeah, why peter?” ned gawks. “liz wasn’t available,” you honestly answer. ned and mj share a look. “no, but seriously. he’s the smartest guy in our class. hell, he’s the smartest guy at this school,” you flash peter a smile. peter finds himself returning it. “who better than him?“ you rationalize. “fair enough,” he decides.
“is that a yes? you’ll do it?” you ask. “i’ll do it,” peter confirms. you grab him by his shoulder, face lighting up. “perfect! when do we start?” you wonder. “how’s today after school, if you’re free?” he responds, laughing softly at your enthusiasm. “i am, but you’re not. decathlon practice,” you click your tongue.
“how did you…” peter trails off. “liz,” ned and mj reply in unison. you beam at them. “okay. um, after practice? we could meet up?” peter lets his eyes flit to yours. “text me your addy. looking forward to working with you, parker,” you conclude, getting up from the bench. “you too, y/l/n. see you later,” he shoots you another smile.
you wave to ned and mj before jogging back over to your table. ned claps peter on the back, who’s looking at you over his shoulder.
if he only knew what he was in for.
“nice work, everyone! don’t forget to review the topics we discussed for next practice,” liz dismisses the decathlon team.
the team stands from the table, each saying their goodbyes to one another. peter and ned pack up their things.
“i can’t believe y/n y/l/n is coming over to your apartment,” ned raves. “neither can i,” peter murmurs, shoving books in his backpack. “seriously, peter! this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! what are you gonna wear?” ned asks. “uh, this?” peter gestures to his science pun t-shirt and khakis. “dude,” ned groans.
“i mean, does it matter? i’m only tutoring her, ned,” peter reminds him. “peter, you don’t just tutor a girl like y/n,” ned refutes. peter zips his backpack, looking blankly at him. “we’re gonna study, and i’m gonna get paid. that’s all,” he brushes him off. “that’s why i’m doing it, you know. for the money,” he slips a backpack strap onto his shoulder.
“really? that’s the only reason?” ned presses. “and, because i feel bad for her. nobody should have to retake physics. it’s the spawn of satan,” peter justifies. the two of them begin to make their way out of the auditorium. “true. well, good luck. let me know how it goes,” ned pats his friend on the shoulder. “alright. thanks, man,” peter replies before ned leaves the auditorium.
“peter!” liz shouts out. “come here a sec!”
peter clutches onto his backpack strap, head tilted to the side. he walks back over to the table, where liz is tidying the space. she pauses to rip a piece of paper from her notebook. she scribbles something down on it, then hands it to him.
“y/n’s number,” liz says. “right, thanks,” peter nods, tucking the paper into his pocket. “good job today, by the way. we missed you. don’t work y/n too hard,” she winks. “missed you guys too, and i won’t,” peter chuckles, exiting the auditorium at last.
once peter is settled in at home, he retrieves your number from his pocket. he puts it into his phone, lips pursed curiously. without thinking too much of it, peter types out his address and hits send. you reply all but a second later.
peter jumps when his phone buzzes, not expecting you to answer so fast. he cracks a small smile as he reads your message.
be there soon! brace yourself parker :)
peter gathers his physics materials while you head over to his apartment. he then decides to neaten up the messy space in anticipation of your arrival. you’re his company, he supposes. besides, his aunt may will surely appreciate him cleaning up after himself for a change. she’s always saying the place is a pigsty.
he’s pushing a cereal box into the kitchen cabinets when you knock at his door. he quickly closes the cabinets and scrambles to get the door, but not without stopping to check his reflection in the toaster. he meticulously combs back his hair with his fingers before he realizes what he’s doing.
ned must have gotten in his head.
peter rolls his eyes at himself and fixes his hair the way he had it. he pads over to the door, turning the knob to reveal you on the other side. you sport a wide grin, a textbook hugged to your chest. he’s pleasantly surprised that you came prepared.
“let’s get to work, shall we?” you prompt. “we shall. come on in,” peter invites you.
you wander inside, your perfume filling the air as you pass by. peter shuts the door and meets you at his kitchen table, where you’ve already seated yourself. you get comfortable in your chair, leaning back with one leg crossed over the other. you open up your textbook. peter sits across from you and does the same.
“so, what’s on the agenda?” you question. “i figured we could start at the beginning, go back to the basics,” peter responds. “we’ll take it slow, okay?” he looks over at you. “mm, not my specialty,” you remark. peter’s eyes widen at your innuendo. “kidding. whatever you think, parker. we’re in your territory now,” you say.
“okay, cool. turn to page-“ peter cuts himself off when you plop into the seat next to him. “i’d rather look on with you, if that’s alright. i’m a visual learner,” you explain. “sure, whatever works for you,” he assures you, flipping to the first chapter.
you move in so you can see better. your shoulder squishes against peter’s, the sweet scent of your perfume smelling stronger from how close you are. your lips part, then curve into a smile. peter gets distracted by your gaze, subconsciously inching even closer to you. you nod for him to start. he snaps out of his daze and shifts to face forward.
what the hell was that?
pull it together, peter. pull it together.
“chapter one, introduction to dynamics,” peter reads aloud. you follow along with your finger on the paper. “dynamics is the study of bodies in motion. dynamics is concerned with describing motion and explaining its causes,” he begins, glancing at you. “you okay with that?” he checks. “yeah, so far so good,” you affirm. “awesome. the general field of dynamics consists of two major areas,” he continues.
“should i be taking notes or something? i, uh, don’t wanna get lost,” you confess. peter looks up from the textbook, his kind eyes meeting yours. “is that how you usually study?” he asks. “on the rare occasion i do, yeah. i take notes as i go,” you reply. “i’m not sure how well it works, though. it’s sometimes too much to understand at once,” you shrug, chewing your lower lip.
“maybe we could try a different approach,” peter speaks quietly. “how about we read through the chapter first, then go back and write down what you think is important after?” he grins. you smile back, lip still between your teeth. “that sounds good. i like that,” you agree. “great, let’s go on. stop me anytime you want me to explain something, okay?” he offers. “mhm, thanks,” you hum.
“the general field of dynamics consists of two major areas: kinematics and kinetics…”
you and peter take your time working through the first chapter of your physics textbook. he’s impressed by your positive attitude and drive to learn more, taking an active interest in everything he covers. you’re grateful for peter’s patience with you and how willing he is to answer all your questions in as many ways as you need him to. you have a lot of them.
the session goes way better than either of you were expecting. although you’ve nowhere near mastered physics yet, you’re at least putting in an effort.
“this is a good place to stop for today, but we’re making progress,” peter eventually decides. you face palm into the textbook. “thank god. there’s only so much physics i can take,” you grumble. “you and me both,” he concurs, venturing into the kitchen. “snack?” he asks you. “yes, please,” you do a thumbs up.
“how was decathlon practice?” you make conversation while peter searches his fridge. “i’ll spare you the details. i think i’ve bored you enough for one day,” peter chuckles. “i asked, didn’t i?” you reiterate. you sit back up in your chair. “uh, it was good. we just ran some drills, talked about nationals,” he elaborates, now rummaging through the cabinets.
“ah, liz told me you guys might go back this year. you’re the reigning champs,” you recall. “that’s us,” peter echoes. when he opens the cabinet, the cereal he put away earlier falls out. “you like fruit loops?” he questions, holding up the box. “dude, i fucking love them. gimme,” you command.
peter pours you each a bowl of cereal and brings them back over to the table. you dig in, earning lighthearted laughter from him.
“when’s our next session?” you ask between a mouthful of fruit loops. “i thought we could meet, like, once a week or so. so, next week?” peter answers. you drop your spoon. “that’s it?” you inquire. “you wanna meet more than that?” peter copies your incredulous tone. you give him a look, a dead-serious look. “if you think it’ll help you, sure,” he says before downing the last of his cereal.
peter carries your empty bowls to the sink to wash them out. you push in your chair, fumbling around in your jeans for your wallet.
“well, i’ve gotta run. me and harry have some… business to attend to,” you speak over the running water. “we’ll discuss more tomorrow. thank you, parker. for the tutoring and the fruit loops,” you send him another smile. “you’re welcome. glad i could be of service,” he replies, and means it. “money’s on the table. see ya!” you inform him before rushing out the door.
did that really just happen?
peter dries off his hands with a kitchen towel and goes back over to collect the money. he sorts through it, blinking wildly. you left him a couple of twenty dollar bills. they smell of sugary vanilla, your signature scent.
“this is definitely more than a dollar or two,” peter remarks, pocketing the twenties.
that really just happened.
“alright, y/l/n. what’s it gonna be?” harry questions.
he’s multitasking, rolling a blunt while he deals to you. you’re sprawled across his bed on your stomach, feet up and kicking behind you. you’d come straight to his place after leaving peter’s. you need to restock your supplies, so it was time to hit him up.
“an ounce of your finest,” you respond. harry licks and pinches the rolling paper to shape it. “weed?” he asks. “yeah. i’m not into hard stuff,” you quirk a stern brow. “and what a shame that is, y/l/n. you have no idea what you’re missing,” harry sighs, setting down the freshly formed blunt. “i’d like to keep it that way,” you mumble.
“an ounce of my finest, coming right up,” harry announces. he tosses you a small, sealed baggie, which you catch. “pleasure doing business with you, osborn,” you let out a raspy laugh. “can i get some E, too?” you wonder. “lemme see if i have any. i was almost out, last time i checked,” harry rubs his chin.
you often wonder where harry gets this shit from. his father is a big businessman with connections all over the city, so you assume it’s something to do with that. the osborn name, that is.
“what do you need ecstasy for, anyway?” harry questions. “always like to have some, just in case. it’s fun to fuck on,” you clarify, arching your back to stretch it out. “trust me, i know,” he wiggles his eyebrows. he opens up a drawer he uses to hide his stash, fishing around for the ecstasy. “who’re you fucking nowadays?” he pries. “who am i not fucking?” you counter.
his hand emerges with another baggie, this one with two pills resembling smiley faces inside.
“come and get it,” harry prompts you. you lunge forward and reach for the bag, but he pulls it away. “that’s gonna cost extra, since i’m running low,” he smiles wickedly. “whatever it is, i’ll pay it,” you concede.
harry holds out his hand for you to place your wallet in it. you give it to him, sitting up on your knees. he gathers all the cash you have and counts the bills out. he inspects the pile with his tongue out in concentration.
“you’re short,” harry tells you.
you pat your pockets to feel around for any loose money. much to your dismay, there isn’t any.
“aw, shit. i gave the rest of my cash to parker,” you remember. “spot me?” you grin hopefully. “i’ll take this for now, and you can pay me the rest some other time,” harry compromises, putting the pile down on top of his dresser. “deal,” you seize the bag of ecstasy out of his hand.
“speaking of parker, how’d your study sesh go?” harry wonders. he grabs a lighter and the blunt he just rolled. “really good, actually. he’s an awesome tutor. plus, he’s literally the nicest guy ever,” you respond. “is he now?” harry asks, lighting up his blunt. “yup. he even made me fruit loops,” you add. “wow, fruit loops. i dunno what more you could ask for,” harry quips.
“lay off him, would you? it was cute,” you defend. harry inhales a generous amount of smoke from his blunt. “careful, y/l/n,” he warns, exhaling the smoke. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you have a crush,” he taunts. you tsk at him. “me? a crush? never,” you proclaim, snatching the blunt from harry.
harry looks you up and down inquisitively, then retrieves more paper to roll himself another blunt.
“she wants to meet again already? dude, she likes you,” ned nudges peter’s arm.
peter is filling ned and mj in on how your tutoring session went the next day at school. the three of them walk side by side in the hallway as they chat.
“or she’s just trying to pass physics, like she said,” mj corrects. “or both,” ned levels with her. peter shakes his head, eyeing ned. “no, mj’s right. y/n worked really hard last night. she wants to do well, is all,” he says. “of course i’m right. i’m always right,” mj declares. neither peter nor ned dare to disagree with her. “i have my theories, you guys have yours,” ned murmurs.
“uh huh. anyway, i should get to class. later, dorks,” mj dismisses herself from her friends. “bye, em,” peter replies.
ned pulls peter off to the side once mj is gone. he grips at either of peter’s arms, staring into his eyes with intensity. peter looks around the hall to make sure no one else notices their odd encounter.
“the signs are right there in front of you, peter. y/n wants you!” ned says. “i bet she’d totally hook up with you if you asked her,” he convinces. peter’s mouth falls open. “ned! have some class!” he whisper yells. “relax, dude. it’s what she does,” ned justifies. “and it’s none of our business. c’mon, we’re gonna be late,” peter chastises him.
peter isn’t proud of it, but he thinks more about what ned said after their conversation. you were sort of touchy with him yesterday. he’s not oblivious to the way you look at him, either. and, hey, it’s no secret you get around. not that that gives peter a right to your body or anything. it’s just something to consider.
realistically, you’re probably only being friendly. you act like that with pretty much everyone. peter doubts he’s even your type. you’re more likely to go for someone in your own league, someone more like harry osborn. for all peter knows, you already have.
when it’s time for physics, peter slips into his usual seat at the front and center of the room. he unpacks his things and waits for ms. warren to start the class. you and harry rush in as the bell is ringing, giggling about something amongst yourselves. peter’s eyes follow you to the back of the room, where the two of you sit. you give peter a wave and a small smile. he waves back, then turns to face the board.
“good afternoon, everyone. how are we all doing?” ms. warren greets. the class mumbles their responses. “glad to hear it. today, we’ll be peer reviewing your unit test i handed back yesterday,” she paces around the room. “as long as you work diligently, you may choose your own partners.”
you and harry fist bump each other. peter sinks down in his seat.
he dreads partner work in physics. none of his friends are in his class, so he always ends up alone. it’s humiliating.
“any discrepancies, come see me. i’ll be right up here. get to work, class,” ms. warren instructs.
there’s a chorus of chairs screeching and kids chattering as everyone splits into pairs. peter remains seated, his cheeks tinting pink. he gets out his test and looks through it absentmindedly, gaze going from the test to the clock. he’s ready for physics to be over. ms. warren strides over to his desk, a knowing look on her face.
“trouble finding a partner?” ms. warren questions. “i don’t mind working alone,” peter assures her. the deep shade of pink coating his cheeks says otherwise. “unfortunately for you, peter, this is peer review,” she laughs lightly. “we’re missing a few students today, so we’re an odd number. why don’t you join another group?” she asks.
“oh. um, i’m not sure anybody would wanna…” peter starts to make an excuse. “hey, parker!” you summon him. he turns to face you. “we’re looking for a third,” you say suggestively, harry smirking. peter glances back at ms. warren for approval. “your choice,” she comments before walking over to her desk.
peter weighs his options. he could either stay up here and die of embarrassment, or join you and harry. he decides to go with the latter.
he grabs his things and makes his way over to the two of you. you drag over an empty desk for him, grinning up at him. he instantly feels more at ease as he takes the seat, until harry speaks up.
“what’d you get on the test, parker? i’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” harry offers. “uh, i don’t think we’re actually supposed to share our grades-“ peter is interrupted by harry taking his test off his desk. “okay, sure,” he says instead. harry hums to himself at peter’s almost perfect score. “not bad, not bad,” he understates. “thanks,” peter nods. “you said it, y/l/n. parker here is brilliant,” harry concludes.
“you think i’m brilliant?” peter gives you a shy smile. “c’mon, parker. you are brilliant,” you push his shoulder playfully. “you two can compare grades later. let’s get to it, gentlemen,” you boss. “yes, ma’am,” harry salutes you, handing peter his test. “where did you guys wanna start?” peter wonders.
“from the top. i’d already fucked up on question one,” you show peter your test. there’s a big red X on the first question. “me, too,” harry sighs. “no worries, it was a hard one,” peter tells you both. “can i see your test again?” he asks you. you give it to him, brows raised. “for multiple choice, i recommend using process of elimination,” he begins. “good strategy,” harry acknowledges.
“let’s read through the choices. are there any you know right off the bat are wrong?” peter questions you. “uh, hold on,” you mumble.
you push the eraser of your pencil against your lips, reading the question to yourself. peter’s eyes can’t help but to trail down to your lips. you pout your bottom one out and turn the test towards you. peter sucks in a breath. your arm rests on his desk, head ever so slightly leaned against his.
“what about A?” you catch his attention. peter’s eyes move back up to yours. “huh?” he splutters. “choice A. that’s wrong, right?” you repeat. “right, yeah,” he laughs awkwardly. “so it’s wrong?“ you squint. “this is getting confusing. let me just,” peter chuckles again, crossing out A on your test. “there, process of elimination. you wanna do the rest?” he wonders.
“could i try, or is three a crowd?” harry buts in. “chill, harry. don’t act like you give a fuck about this stuff,” you tease, leaning further into peter. more color paints his cheeks just as they were paling. “you didn’t either ‘til yesterday,” harry reminds you. “yeah, well, a certain someone showed me i could,” you nudge peter’s arm.
a toothy grin creeps onto peter’s face.
“how about y/n finishes up question one, and harry, you take the next one,” peter suggests. “alrighty, then. i’ll get started,” harry agrees, picking up his pencil and beginning question two.
peter waits while the two of you redo the questions. you stay close to his side as you solve yours, using process of elimination to choose what you believe to be the correct answer. you elbow him gently once you’re finished.
“could you check this?” you ask peter. “sure, one sec,” he says, sliding your paper over to himself. you search for his eyes as they roam your paper. “how’d i do?” you bite into your lower lip. “um, you didn’t get it,” peter tells you. “seriously? shit, man. i’m a lost cause... i’m no good at this,” you complain.
“hey, don’t say that. you’re trying. that matters more than anything else,” peter reassures you. “you’ve got a long way to go, but you’ll get there. i’m here to help you,” he smiles. “thanks. i know i’m kinda slow at this shit, so thank you for being patient,” you reply. “thanks for being so understanding, too,” you place one of your hands atop his.
“you don’t have to thank me. i am your tutor, after all,” peter breathes out a laugh. “not right now, you’re not. you’re off the clock,” you point out. “i’m also your friend,” he toys with your fingers. “i mean, if you want me to be,” he hastily adds. “i do, yeah. friends it is,” you grin at him.
even though you’ve only known peter about a day, you could feel a fast friendship blooming. he’s not like harry or liz. he’s a teacher’s pet, he’s constantly tripping over his words. but, he’s also sweeter to you than anyone else is, guys especially. although, it’s not like the bar is set very high. the point is, you like that peter treats you differently than the other students at midtown do. it’s refreshing.
you don’t mind expanding your circle for him one bit.
“aye yo, parker,” harry taps peter on the shoulder. “this look right to you?”
he flashes peter his answer sheet, snorting. rather than doing question two like he was supposed to, he colored the empty bubbles in the shape of a dick. peter sports a pained expression. you give him a pat on the back.
“welcome to my world.”
tags: @sunshinehollandd @babyspiders @harbingerofheartbreak @moonsock @holland-styles @lowkey-holland @bi-lmg07 @rafeyybabyy @aayaissaa @explosiveholland @crybaby-culture @euphoricholland @jallerentrags @belovedholland @nocturnalms @mostdefinitelyhasissues @mayal0pez @hopeless-romantic-baby @cutetomholland @daddytasha @yeetedandoboi @curlyfriesthings @mclafm05 @minimarkive @hollandsangel @peterficrecs @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @peterparkeeh0le @walkintheprk @sleepingdancer @lilostif16 @cubedtriangle @sillykankam
#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader#peter parker au#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland imagine#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader
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January recs
Alright, I’ve got multiple Murderbot Diaries recs from last month, and one each for MCU (Black Widow+Spider-Man), Due South, The Hands of the Emperor, and Star Trek AOS. Enjoy!
Acceptable Mission Cost by i_have_loved_the_stars_too_fondly (Murderbot, gen)
The planetary leader of Preservation is taken hostage by a corporation and held for interrogation. Lonely and homesick, she starts talking to the SecUnit assigned to guard her cell. When it's ordered to kill her, it can't bring itself to follow through.
Yessssss, awesome alternate first meeting where Murderbot is assigned to guard Mensah! Some heavy plot reliance on coincidence but the feels are excellent.
@Perihelion: Fuck you ART by Sparrowlicious (Murderbot, gen)
And that's how I accidentally started a social feed account with a cult following. It's not my fault humans have an obsession with my opinions.
aka Murderbot discovers space twitter and commits crimes against corporate entities (ART is helping!)
I’m not usually a fan of social media fics done this far from their origin (i.e. Space Twitter is just like modern Twitter!), but Murderbot and ART’s friendship in this story is impeccable and hilarious.
Iterative User Testing by Ostentenacity (Murderbot, gen)
Murderbot's buffer is becoming a problem.
Funny but sweet story about Murderbot working on its social interactions (and also reprogramming its brain a little with ART? Friendship is magic!).
The Peter Tingle by igrockspock (MCU, Peter/Yelena)
Yelena's bored and she's got three options:
(1) Start a fire.
(2) Start a brawl.
(3) Talk to Peter Parker.
Completely unexpected but completely delightful pairing! Shenanigans, banter, grief, Peter being a nice young man who does math in bars and also dresses up in spandex, and Yelena finding someone she can be a little vulnerable with. (set after Hawkeye and No Way Home)
This Canadian Life by SpaceTimeConundrum (Due South, Fraser/RayK)
Today on our program we’re bringing you a three act investigation into a true Chicago legend. It’s a larger-than-life tale of murder, exile, culture shock, and the incredible power of human kindness as we ask the question: did Chicago have its own Canadian superhero in the ‘90s? The answer may surprise you. From WBEZ Chicago, it’s This American Life.
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! Great outsider POV in a way, and fun post-canon content that also follows up on some minor characters and the ripple effects of Fraser being Fraser.
Absurdly Discreet by breadandroses (The Hands of the Emperor, Artorin/Kip)
"Being seduced by someone who turns out to be a spy isn't a crime," Ghilly said.
"It is when you're the Sun-on-Earth's personal secretary," Cliopher replied dryly.
— The Hands of the Emperor, Chapter 63
Sharp look at that barely mentioned incident from the book, and the DEVOTION. The PINING. GAH.
the ship in port is the safer one (but it's not the reason it was made) by KiaraSayre (Star Trek reboot, gen)
The Enterprise's first mission is a boring one. Luckily, the ship more or less makes its own trouble, including: stills, toilet paper, lighting issues, awkward crewmembers, lunchroom seating politics, and, of course, the Admiralty.
Or: How Jim Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Chain Of Command.
Very fun and creative story about the Enterprise going on a shakedown cruise, Jim learning some valuable lessons about personnel management, and the dangers of a genius crew with too much time on their hands.
#monthly recs#murderbot#mcu#peter/yelena#due south#fraser/rayk#hands of the emperor#star trek#fic rec#lots of gen this month hmm
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Spider-Scout, era & info
SCOUTS HONOUR: freshly 'bitten' by an organic mechanical spider (with symbiote DNA inside) off to fight crime. Still learning what responsibilities mean as a new hero and the start of the endless web of his mistakes. A completely homemade suit with whatever he had around the house or could buy for cheap
THE ECCENTRIC SPIDER-SCOUT: current era and what I base most of my art around. Fully established web crawling hero with a whole sinister six up on his case and many other issues. This is still a work in progress so that's really it
HUNTERS REST: when you've been a hero since you were 19, you get tired after doing it for 24 years and going through more trauma than you can count. Of course, it's a struggle to stop being the neighborhood hero but it's for the best. Whilst the new upgrades can make him seem more intimidating he has made him abit more likeable to seem more friendly to the people he isn't trying to scare
(more info below)
+ extra character sheet with detailed & simplified version of his suit
Name: Spider-Scout
Real name: Peter Anderson
Hero or villain: hero/ anti hero
Gender: male (trans)
Height: 5'11
Age: 27 (19/20 when started)
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Occupation: was an assistant at OsCorp then worked for Octavious after he (Otto) became a villain also a superhero, after the separation of him and Otto he is a fully time hero and part time mercenary for hire. Payment is optional (most give atleast some form of payment)
Powers and Abilities: Fear pheromone; able to release a gas from his mouth that makes people perceive him as a scary entity, blurs their Vision and leaves them their brain mildly affected - able to sense he's around after being gassed due to subconscious fear. Super strength (at minimum can lift up to 11 tons, haven't tried to lift heavier yet), speed (faster than average human), agility and flexibility, web shooting from wrists, faster healing than the average human
Power Limitations: can only produce gas when feeling extremely scared or mad - so life or death situations, Due to flexibility does experience alot of aches in his bones, webs come from his body so them being pulled on whilst still attached to his wrists would hurt, mental issues can effect his webs abilities
Weapons: knuckle claws, arm spikes, anything he can pick up and throw, webs
Gadgets/Tech: his 'tail', it's a small Robot spider that curls into itself to create a small bug butt attached to his belt, it's his scouting bot and can perform missions for him if he's busy (has loads but the one attached to him is for emergencies)
Physical Weaknesses: can still be killed and harmed like a normal person
Mental/Emotional Weaknesses: is traumatised asf
Backstory:
Lost his parents at 13, had to live with his grandparents until he was able to move out. He was able to work young and still had to be the adult of the house and had to take care of his himself despite struggling to juggle his education and job. Hence why he quit collage during his 3rd year so he could go into full time employment to keep the rent paid
Ben parker was a regular at the cafe he worked at, he could sense something was wrong with Peter's life and tried to cheer him up. Commenting how much he looked just like his nephew. Ben paid for a trip for his nephews birthday. A trip to the small closed off city where all the best science was - opening their doors for limited time in search for new minds. He had a spare ticket since aunt may couldn't go and gave it to Peter
He accepted and that's when it happened. The incident. Whilst checking out a more closed off area a released robo Symbiote found him and they bonded. The spider bit him and crawled under his skin and fused with his DNA. He was in hospital for a week, everything caught on camera. He was puking up blood and shredded organ. His body completely altering itself, rapidly growing new cells, his body dying from the inside and just as quickly healing. Having to grow accustomed to the alien now changing his entire DNA. Growing new small organs and muscles in his body.
No one understood what was happening to him since his cells looked healthier and stronger than the average person.
Peter became an intern at OsCorp after being infected by one of their spiders. He made a deal that he could be an assistant in the robotics lab, running for coffee and dealing with tasks everyone else is too busy to do. By the time he started he was 20 (his birthday recently gone by)
Otto was made to deal with Peter as his assistant. Basically to babysit this menace who threatened to ruin the company. He obviously didn't like Peter for this and just generally found his personality tiresome. But over time, 3 years ago by, he saw Peter actually had a passion for building, designing and robotics even if he wasn't all that good at it due to inexperience. He starts giving him small tasks, creating a model for him and sees that Peter is a creative and visual learner. Understanding what it's like to not have the right kind of education to support your way of thinking, he takes him under his wing. Their relationship becomes more personal as the years pass and it's become a "we both have crushes on each other and alot of romantic tension but idk what to do or if I should make a move" and this only gets worse when Otto splits ties with Norman and becomes a villian. (Scout is 25 when this happens, he only works with Otto for one more year before they become enemies full time)
Additional, he did run into Ben parker again before he began to work at Oscorp officially. a mugger was following Ben - scout saw when he was about to go on protrol. Recognizing the old man but it wasn't like they new each other, not really. Peter just thought he was being paranoid and ignored the men. There was no gun visible. He was still learning about what his spider sense was and thought it was just his anxiety playing up.
When he heard yelling he immediately rushed back but by the time he arrived, the mugger fired his gun. In panic scout latched a web onto Ben and tried to swing him out the way but it only made things worse. The bullet hit right in an artery.
The mugger ran off and scout ran towards ben, throwing off his mask. He tried to console ben as he died. And ben believing it was HIS peter, Peter Parker and peter Anderson do look very much alike. Almost uncomfortably similar, their biggest differences are their noses and eyes. Pure coincidence. But when you're an old man without his glasses and bleeding out, you can't tell that especially since your vision's blurring from tears. He gave him the "great power comes great responsibility" (a different context obviously for a non spiderman Peter Parker ) and scout promised he'll make things right. He'll be better
Spider-Scout was seen as a menace. Blamed for the death of Ben parker due to a witness who say scout get Ben killed (and fled the scene right after). He found Peter parker and tried to tell him that he tried to save his uncle. That his uncle was a good kind man and he never wanted anything bad to happen to him but things escalated. Poor, scared and furious Peter parker, 17 and still mourning his uncle, gets angry and tries to fight Scout.
Scout, 19 and riddled with issues and intense feelings of guilt and anxiety snaps a little. His fear gas releasing and he sees the effects it has. Shocked that he could even do that. He kept trying to apologize but his presence only terrified the young parker even more. So he left.
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Antipsychotics come from a long line of accidents. In 1876, German chemists created a textile dye called methylene blue, which happened to also dye cells. It meandered into biology labs and, soon after, proved lethal against malaria parasites. Methylene blue became modern medicine’s first fully synthetic drug, lucking into gigs as an antiseptic and an antidote for carbon monoxide poisoning. Cue the spinoffs: A similar molecule, promethazine, became an antihistamine, sedative, and anesthetic. Other phenothiazines followed suit. Then, in 1952, came chlorpromazine.
After doctors sedated a manic patient for surgery, they noticed that chlorpromazine suppressed his mania. A series of clinical trials confirmed that the drug treated manic symptoms, as well as hallucinations and delusions common in psychoses like schizophrenia. The US Food and Drug Administration approved chlorpromazine in 1954. Forty different antipsychotics sprang up within 20 years. “They were discovered serendipitously,” says Jones Parker, a neuroscientist at Northwestern University. “So we don't know what they actually do to the brain.”
But Parker really wants to know. He has spent his career studying brains flooded with dopamine, the condition that underpins psychosis. And while he doesn’t pretend to fully understand antipsychotics either, he believes he’s got the right approach to the job: gazing directly into brains. With a combination of tiny lenses, microscopes, cameras, and fluorescent molecules, Parker’s lab can observe thousands of individual neurons in mice, in real time, as they experience different antipsychotic drugs. That’s now paying dividends. In results appearing in the August issue of Nature Neuroscience, Parker shows that an assumption about antipsychotics that’s almost as old as the drugs themselves is …. well, wrong.
Neuroscientists have long thought that antipsychotics dampen extreme dopamine transmission by sticking to receptors in a type of cell called spiny projection neurons, or SPNs. The drugs basically box out the dopamine at receptor proteins called D1 or D2 (where “D” stands for dopamine). Each of the spiny neurons sport either D1 or D2—they’re genetically distinct. Experiments on calf brain extracts in the 1970s showed that the most powerful antipsychotics are the ones that cling strongly to the D2 SPNs in particular, so decades worth of antipsychotics were designed and refined with D2 in mind.
But when Parker’s team probed how four antipsychotics affect D1, D2, and mouse behavior, they found that the most drug interaction is actually happening at D1 neurons. “It’s good to start with a logical prediction and then let the brain surprise you,” Parker says.
The notion that D1 receptors may be a more important target upends decades of research in a $15 billion market for drugs that are famously erratic. Antipsychotics don’t work for about 30 percent of people who try them. They’re plagued by side effects, from extreme lethargy to unwanted facial movements, and rarely address the cognitive symptoms of psychosis, like social withdrawal and poor working memory.
Assumptions about D2 ran deep, says Katharina Schmack, a psychiatrist and neuroscientist who was not involved in the work and studies psychosis at the Francis Crick Institute in the United Kingdom: “This was the textbook knowledge.”
“I was surprised, but kind of excited” by the new study’s conclusions, she continues. Now, she says, “We can start to understand the actual mechanism. And that is the first step to then really get to much better treatments.”
Psychosis flares up in the striatum, a small, curved tissue tucked deep in the brain that helps control how you move, feel, and make decisions. Densely packed neurons extend their spiny branches out of the striatum like ribbon cables. Dopamine prompts those neurons to send signals elsewhere in the brain. This interface is where a blaze of dopamine is thought to overwhelm the mind.
About 95 percent of the neurons connecting the striatum to the rest of the brain are SPNs, each sporting either a D1 or D2 receptor. When dopamine clings to D1, those neurons become more excitable; when it clings to D2, those get less so. The entire system interconnects, so it’s hard to pin down true causes and effects. But Parker believes that by monitoring individual cells, scientists can reverse engineer enough of the circuitry to learn how to deliver drugs to it in the most effective way possible.
The first step in his experiment was to mimic excess dopamine in mice by giving them amphetamines. “You inject them with amphetamine, and they run more. If you inject them with antipsychotics first, they run less. That’s the state of the art,” Parker says.
Then, to find out exactly which neurons the amphetamines were interacting with, his team implanted small endoscopes into each mouse’s brain and rigged tiny 2-gram microscopes to peer through the endoscopes. Parker learned this type of in vivo imaging during a postdoc as a Pfizer employee doing research at Stanford University with Mark Schnitzer, a biophysicist who pioneered the method to study neurons more generally. The endoscopes are invasive, but not so bothersome that they get in the way of experiments.
Since D1 and D2 neurons are genetically distinct, the scientists were able to study each individually. As a way to tell them apart, they had designed fluorescent molecules that tagged only the cells with a particular genetic sequence. They then recorded how the neurons reacted after amphetamine injections: D1 SPNs became more excitable, or responsive, and D2 became less so. This matched the textbook theory, Parker says, “but no one had actually shown that yet.”
Then things got weird. Each of the mice had already been injected with one of four drugs: haloperidol, a first-generation drug from the 1950s known for motor side effects; olanzapine, a second-gen drug; clozapine, a powerful drug that’s administered when others don’t work; and MP-10, a drug candidate Pfizer had developed that looked effective in animals but failed during clinical trials in 2019 when it exacerbated psychosis in humans.
Most neuroscientists would wager that the three effective drugs should ignite some action in D2 SPNs, and might do nothing at D1. Indeed, haloperidol and olanzapine countered the amphetamine’s effect on D2, as expected. But clozapine didn’t. And the big surprise was that controlling D1 neurons seemed to be the factor that mattered most. All three effective drugs normalized the action at D1, and MP-10 didn’t. In fact, MP-10 had leveled out activity at D2 but actually made the abnormal D1 activity worse. “It exacerbated the hyperactivity,” Parker says. “That kind of sealed the deal.”
Next, Parker wondered how general this effect is. Most antipsychotics developed over the past 70 years stick to dopamine receptors, but a new generation binds to other sites, like acetylcholine receptors. Might these new drugs still be doing something to D1 neurons indirectly?
Parker’s team picked three promising new drugs—all in the final clinical trials needed for FDA approval—and repeated the first round of experiments. All three somehow normalized D1 activity too. “We were really surprised,” Parker says.
Schmack says it’s “fascinating” that this pattern holds for antipsychotics that target different receptors. “It seems to be a very consistent observation,” she says.
The behavior of the mice also told a consistent story. In both rounds of testing, all of the antipsychotics—except MP-10, which was already known to be ineffective—helped amphetamine-agitated mice slow down and move normally. And their neural activity told a consistent story about why. While the effects on D2 neurons varied, each of those six drugs normalized D1 neurons—suggesting D1 is the receptor that matters more.
To Schmack, these results suggest that drug companies should target D1 in testing—she thinks a drug candidate’s effect on that receptor could be a good proxy for its likelihood of success. “It’s something that we are always desperately in need of,” she says.
“It is extremely powerful, and a wonderful screening tool,” agrees Jessica Walsh, a neuropharmacologist at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill who was not involved in the work. “With all the drugs that already exist, this really shows that with drugs that we thought selectively targeted one receptor—perhaps that’s not the entire story.”
Parker makes a convincing case for targeting D1, Walsh says, by running through the “whole gamut” of drugs: “It was a humongous effort.” Yet Walsh notes that the interconnections between neurons like D1 and D2 SPNs mean that D2 SPNs may still be important. It’s possible that some drugs level out D1 activity by sticking to D2 receptors.
“It is tricky to shift the role of D2 receptors as being crucial,” Robert McCutcheon, a psychosis researcher at the University of Oxford, England, wrote in an email to WIRED. He suggests testing other approved drugs with no supposed attraction to D1 receptors, like amisulpride.
The field still longs for a better grasp of which neural circuits respond most to antipsychotics. “This is the first step to actually disentangling the exact effects,” says Schmack. “We can develop new antipsychotic drugs that target new points in this way, and might have less side effects than the antipsychotic drugs that we have right now.”
Parker’s current plan is to test what happens when he blocks the D1 receptor just sometimes, with drugs called “partial agonists.” The drugs compensate for high dopamine and low dopamine. It’s a different approach than just blocking dopamine altogether, and Parker hopes his new results bode well for D1 partial agonists in particular. That’s because despite having more dopamine in their striatum, people with schizophrenia actually have lower dopamine levels in their cortex, a feature that neuroscientists think contributes to social withdrawal and forgetfulness. “Such a drug could be both antipsychotic and cognition-promoting,” Parker says. His lab has begun testing candidates.
The Nature Neuroscience study’s results open new inroads to treating psychosis, Parker says. “If we’re not constrained by this idea that they always need to bind this receptor or do this one thing to this type of neuron, we can begin to think about what might be possible in other ways.”
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Under the Waves
Pairing - Peter Parker x Mermaid Reader
Summary - You are a mermaid trying to fit into a normal life, bumping into Peter and having to go to a new school is tough but you make it through.
Warnings - none other than slight swearing
A/N - This was requested by @oyasumimosura hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think, Thank you for all your love and Support to my blog. I really appreciate all your interactions 🥰
Word count - 1K+
Life is an open book, an particular fairy tale might become across as fake to most people. However, there is always truth behind them even, if it’s only a little bit of pixie dust over the Horizon. 
To show our true colours and have meaning in life is a living, walking dream. To some people, they don’t take any notice of these kind of adventures. And to others, they live by the fantasy of becoming more than what humans call Mermaids.
You being a normal, teenage girl living, enjoying life with friends. Even thou, there is school and hard work to be achieved at such a young age. You felt something missing, a connection that was beyond out of the human’s eyes reach to see.
Landing yourself on an island that your necklace with a blue, glowing crystal is sending you. Your confused as what you might come across, being you trust your necklace. It has some strange powers, being able to protect you from danger.
Walking across the sand you come to a jungle, down a little slide way to a cave. There you slide down, ending up to a pool of calm water. You had an urge to dip your whole body in, as you did moonlight rises over you.
you look up to the moon shining above your head, looking around to see bubbles starting to pop. You appear to turn into something much more, magical than magic.
“Oh my god, this is awesome but frightening,” you gasped, as everything around you is now silent. Your necklace now stops glowing, your now wondering how to go back out.
Since that day you are a mermaid but not your typical one. You touch water to become the beautiful creature, when dry you turn back human. No one knows except for you, you try to live a normal life working through school and friends.
🧋
Peter Parker, an awkward, cute, clumsy boy who is making his way through life just like you with a secret.
On the busy streets of Queens he bumps into making you drop your books.
“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” Peter rushed to pick up your belongings. Quickly standing to see your mesmerising face.
“It’s honestly, fine. At lest it wasn’t water,” you joked sarcastically, “um, thanks,…”
“Peter, Peter Parker,” Peter smiles, handing back your books.
“Thanks, Peter. I’m Y/N,” You smile back at his adorable thin lips.
“I gotta go, I don’t want to be late for class um, bye Peter,” you chuckle nervously, waving.
“Bye, Y/N,” Peter waved back, walking in a total different direction.
🧋
Everyone whispering in between the hallways as they walk, Peter walks up to his friends Ned and Mj.
“Hey, guys. What is everyone talking about?” Peter questioned as he put his books into his locker.
“Haven’t you heard?” Ned shocked, “There is a new girl, just started,”
“What really? Wow,” Peter gulps, wondering at who this new girl is.
“Yh, heard that she pretty cool and collected,” Mj nods, “it would be nice if she joined,”
Ned and Peter looked at this each other, “wait, wait,” they turn around to her.
“Your telling me, miss anti-social actually,” Peter starts, “Wants to get to know someone,” Ned finishes astonished.
“No that’s totally not what I said,” Mj shakes her head, sometimes really need another girl to make it equal with these bone brain guys.
There is always Betty but she mostly with other people after Liz left.
“Put brain cells in your head before you come to school,” Mj bluntly mumbled, walking to class.
Peter and Ned shrugs, walking to class with her.
🧋
Peter sits down in physics, loving this lesson because he’s always into science. Hence why he goes to Mid-town high school, he got brains and skills to show off.
Just as he thought it couldn’t get any better he sees a pretty girl, not just a girl. You, he recognises from earlier. Peter starts to overthink getting lost in his mind that he didn’t even see you sit down next to him.
“Hey,” You smile, tapping on his shoulder, you tilt your head to the side.
Peter turns his head, “Oh, hey,” smiling, “so your the new girl? I bumped into you,”
“Yh, it’s a pretty cool school,” you laugh, melody to Peter’s hyper sensed ears. “Do not stress, your too adorable. Anyway wanna be friends Pretty boy,” you smile, feeling confident infront of him.
You made Peter flustered, pretty oblivious at your actions. Just trying to be friendly to the cute boy, who you won’t admit liking.
“Yes,” Peter smiled back as the class starts.
The class boring to others as usual but Peter found it interesting, he made his web fluid in this class along side chemistry. 
At the end of the class, you and Peter get paired up for the Home work. Your excited just as Peter to spend even more time together, even though only knowing each other just a few hours.
🧋
After some other classes, it’s finally lunch. Walking up to the cafe, you wasn’t really sure where to sit but Peter waved at you to come closer.
“Hi,” you sit down smiling, “it’s nice to meet you, I’m guessing your Peters friends. I’m Y/N,”
“Hey, this is Ned and Mj,” Peter speaks, getting cut off.
“Oh hey,” Ned smiles, bumping Mj’s arms to get her to look up.
“Hi, sorry I was staring into my soul.” Mj looks blankly at you.
“That’s ok, I guess you like the black Dalion like the murder?” You chuckle, Peter takes a bite of his sandwich.
“Yh, uh how do you know?” Mj looking at you intrigued, Ned shrugging at Peter.
“I can tell by your face, it’s not hard to know,” you laugh, “You like observing people, I’m the same,”
Turning back to Peter, you eat your food. Mj just nodding, kinda smiling at how she likes you.
You and Peter start chatting along with Mj and Ned. You become really good friends over the past few weeks at school.
🧋
“Oh, hey,” Peter looks up from his locker door, he getting his books into his bag.
“What are you doing tonight?” You nervously, question fiddling with your jumper.
“I am,” Peter thinks, closing the lock door with him looking into your eyes. He has lost all his words, seeing your beauty makes his mind go blank.
“Hello, Peter. Are you there?” You wave your hand in front of his face, giving a really confused look at why he all of sudden started to day dream.
“Oh, yes, um.” Peter looks around, tiptoeing up and down on his feet. He holding his bag with one hand tightly, over his shoulder.
“What are you doing tonight? I asked,” You say, licking your lips.
“Yh, Im studying. Do you want to join?” Peter blushes, smiling at you.
“Yh, I’m down for that, I need to study physics,” You see Mj and Ned walk up, “I’ll catch you later, I’m going to go to class.”
You wave, Peter nods saying, “Bye,” as you rush down the hall still nervous to talk to people.
Peter closes his locked, putting his head against it closing his eyes. Frustrated at his feelings for you are all over the place, it’s a huge mess.
“Hey, what stick went up your ass,” Mj tight smiles at Peter, dripping with sarcasm, “But honestly, what’s wrong?”
“You haven’t been yourself lately, Man. We just want check up on you before class,” Ned explained tapping on his should.
Peter turns around, seeing Ned and Mj.
“I’m good guys, nothing to worry about. I’m gonna go to Spanish?” Peter walks backwards pointing his thumb behind him, doing an awkward run to the door.
“But, we don’t have Spanish on Tue…” Ned sighs, “And he is gone,”
“No, shit. I don’t see him anywhere,” Mj turning around to look all directions, “We should head to class,” she walks, Ned following her.
🧋
Peter rushes out of class to go home, all he thinking about is you. Studying with you, maybe even more..
You and Peter only been friends for around 6 months but it feels longer than that.
He might even ask you to come for a movie night sometime, that would be cool.
“Oh Honey, Peter,” May heard his bedroom close, deciding to ask when he comes out.
Peter changes into some joggers and a hoodie, “what do you want for dinner,” May asked, curiously.
“Uh, I don’t know and um you know my friend, Y/N right?” Peter told May,
“Oh, yes that sweet girl, who you think is cute,” She smiles, going into the kitchen.
“Well, she is coming over,” Peter goes into the kitchen, smiling.
“That’s lovely dear, would she like to stay for dinner?” May starts to take out pots and pans.
“I would of thought, so?” Peter rushes to the door as he heard a knock.
“Hi, would you want to stop for dinner?” Peter grinned, as you walk inside.
“Hi sure,” You greet May then go to his room placing your bag down, Peter’s room has a bunk bed with a single at the top and a double underneath.
Peter and you settle down in his room, having lots of notes spread out to study.
“I really suck at physics,” you pout as Peter explained it again, “I still don’t get it,” You laugh.
“You will,” Peter reassured you, taking your hand rubbing it. You feel sparks fly up your arm, you smile at the contact.
There is a cup of water right near you, you being oblivious of your secret right now because all your attention is on Peter. 
Peter leans over to grab it but shortly spills it on you, you gasp, panicking having no where to run because the bathroom is outside.
You really want to get up but there wouldn’t be any point, it could be worse. May could see what you really are. It’s Peter, how bad can it be?
“Oh my god, Peter,” You gasp again, flapping your arms out mouth wide open.
“I’m so sorry, Are you ok?” Peter asks, “Your ok, love. It’s only a bit of water.” He reassures you softly stroking your head, giving you sympathy eyes. 
“It’s not that,” You gulp, dreading thoughts as you transform into a floppy mermaid. Your eyes widen, as Peter try’s to take it all in.
Peter runs to the door to lock it, he breathing heavy with you freaking out a bit.
“What?” Peter flaps his arms, “How is this even possible?” His eyes widen as he whispers to you.
“Are you even real?” He waves his arms out to you, he sits next to you try to calm down.
“Peter, it’s ok. Try to breath sweetheart,” You shift your tail, taking his hand and stroking his strands just as he did you.
Peter looks up into your gorgeous eyes, his breathing going back to calm in and out breaths. He thinks about his secret, how you must feel the same way. Having no one know is really hard!
Peter closes his eyes as he leans into your chest with only a shell bra on. He wraps his strong, tone arms around your waist because you give him so much comfort and Warmth.
Your shocked at how he only freaked out a little bit, didn’t even run out of the door. Peter instead came closer to you, better yet cuddling into you.
“Are you ok? Now Petey,” You whisper, gently stroking his forehead.
“Mm,” he nods, “Are you?”
“Yes,” You kiss his forehead, feeling blessed.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me and you can do that again,” Peter smiles, looking up with a dazed face.
You now transformed back to human because your dry, no water on you.
“Peter Parker your something different,” you laugh stating, kissing his forehead again. He smiles at your loving gesture.
“Maybe because I am,” He whispers, teasing you right into your ear. Knowing full well he is definitely a different breed, now because of that radioactive spider.
“Show me,” You tease back, Curious at what Peter could be hiding.
“Do you really want to know,” Peter smirks, teasing back again.
“Oh, my Peter! I’m a fucking mermaid, what could you possibly be that is worse?” You hushed him, shaking your head laughing.
“But honestly, please show me,” You say bringing him back down with you. Looking him into his eyes, seeing his warm, brown eyes melt into yours was a blessing.
You take your chances and kiss him right on the lips as he kind of lays on top of you. Peter is taken back by the kiss but quickly deepens it, pulling you up to sit with him.
You pull apart breathless, blinking still gazed at your actions towards one another.
“I, I like you, Y/N and, and if you don’t like me that’s fine..” Peter rambled on, only you cutting him off again with a another kiss to shut him up.
“Pete, please stop stressing, you too blessed! And I do like you back, otherwise I wouldn’t of kissed you first sweetheart,” You breathed out, having your arms around his neck.
Peter’s arms slip around your waist, through this intense moment you both break a smile. Softening up the moment, You kiss passionately as both of your hands are all over the other.
Only stopping your make out session with
“Dinner, Peter and Y/N,” May half shouts since thin walls and all.
You look up blushing, Peter pulling you up kissing your cheek.
“Do You want to be my girlfriend?” Peter sweetly, asked biting his lip.
“Yes, boyfriend,” You kisses his cheek as you walk out the door to dinner.
“Ok, girlfriend,” Peter whispers more to himself, following you.
Peter’s secret long forgotten through out the chaos but not for long. Not that Peter didn’t want to tell you, especially since he was the reason you revealed yours.
Peter loves you just the way you are, Mermaid or not! He will be Supporting and protecting you every step of the way.
🧋
Bonus scene… You finding out Peter’s Secret after dinner.
Being 9pm and you had to be back by 10:30 at the latest, you had about an hour to spend more with Peter.
You still haven’t forgot about earlier, before dinner when Peter said something about his own secret.
You rush into his room to hide under his covers, giggling as you feel his arms tickling you.
“Stop,” you laugh, turning, “I can’t take it.”
Peter stops, to climb in with you until..
“Wait, Pete,” You say, standing up taking his hand looking directly at him in his eyes. 
“Yes, Darling,” You blush at the pet name, Peter taking your hand into his, “what is it?”
“Um, what is your secret?” You smile, curious.
“My secret,” Peter scratched the back of neck, looking the other way.
You must admit it is embarrassing showing someone something to someone, even if they are close.
“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t even have to show or tell me. I’m not going to pressure you, just because my secret accidentally came out, ok?” You Comfort him, rubbing his hands.
“No, no it’s ok. I want you to know Darling, it’s not just because I know your secret but it is only fair! I want you to know because it is apart of me like yours,” Peter smiles, hugging you.
You smile feeling his body heat engulf you, brining butterflies up to your tummy. If feels like your flying into the sky, it is such a truly amazing feeling to feel inside you.
“Ok, I’m ready. Just try not to freak out,” Peter nervously, gives you a grin.
You nod understanding he has compassion and confidence in himself, which is good!
“I’m spider-man,” Peter whispers, breathing out slowly as you hear.
“Oh ok,” your eyes widen, “That is great,” you smile, proud of him.
“I can do many cool tricks too, I’ll show you,” He sticks to the ceiling, crawling along it.
“Woah, that is Fabulous,” You giggle, “That isn’t all, sweet pea,” Peter winks at you.
“I can shoot webs from this web fluid that I made in class, these web shooters I have on my wrist projects it,” Peter shows you the movement as a web sticks to the wall.
“Um,” Peter thinking, “Oh also I have this cool sixth sense, it’s called spidery sense I can sense danger, emotions that are high,” Peter explains trying to be clear.
“So a Peter tingle?” You laugh, Peter groans.
“What?” You ask curiously, petting his head.
“Nothing, just that my aunt May calls it that too!” Peter chuckles, “I sometime love it but then don’t,”
“Oh, your aunt knows?”
“Yh, um Ned knows too! He’s a guy in the chair, which is cool. Mj knows because things lead to one another and she kinda figured it out,” Peter awkwardly, smiled at that memory. 
“Makes sense, you guys are really close friends.” You smile back.
“I have my senses hyped up, for example my hearing. I can hear further away, my smell stronger. You get the thing of it,”
“Well, thank you for telling me,” You smile pulling him for another hug.
“Your welcome, I guess our secrets both came out together.” Peter chuckles, “Yes,” you say.
You can tell him more about yourself being a mermaid with your power and special necklace next time.
Instead of telling, you decide to leave that for another adventurous day. Adoring each other as You and Peter cuddle a whole lot more into each other’s embrace.
Everything comes out from the under the waves eventually, from Secrets to feelings to even more secrets!!! 
Peter ends up swinging you home like a good boyfriend because it’s far too late for you to walk. 
Tucked under your bed, Peter doing the same as he gets home. You both think of the other as you drift off to sleep, peacefully.
Until it’s dreading another day of school, when you wake up!


#peter parker imagine#tom peter parker#peter parker fluff#secrets revealed#spider man#tom holland#tom holland fandom#tomhollandfan#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#lovers#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#mermaidreader
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Going back down the TVD rabbit hole and felt like listing off some (unpopular?) opinions I have.
I don’t fault Elena at all for being a “whiny crybaby”. With the life she has, she has every reason to be stressed and depressed.
The Salvatore’s aren’t too blame for Elena’s life being a wreck. If anything, they’ve helped prolong her life. She’s a doppelgänger; Klaus was gonna come for her, regardless.
I can let the pregnancy storyline slide, but Caroline shouldn’t have been a full on mother to the twins. If anything, she should’ve been the godmother, or aunt figure. Her absence in their lives during Legacies doesn’t help.
No Humanity!Stefan is the easiest version of him to watch solely because it’s the only time he unapologetically puts himself first. Plus, Paul has more fun with it.
Kai Parker was never in need of redemption. His character worked as well as it did because of his sociopathic villainy. Not every attractive bad guy needs a redemption arc; some of them are meant to serve the purpose of being BAD.
Lexie was a cool character, but I fear had she been allowed to stick around longer, the writers would’ve messed her up. Sucks that she died the way she did, or course.
Damon had more solid character development with Elena in a coma than he did when she was around. She became his enabler, and she’d always been his excuse. The writing behind him during season 7 wasn’t just good for him—it was necessary.
The build up to Steroline was actually good, but the execution of the actual relationship is what messed it up.
Jenna’s death shocked me when it happened, but past that, I wasn’t all that hurt about it.
Alaric should’ve stayed dead. His character wasn’t as likable when he came back, and he definitely isn’t likable in Legacies.
This ain’t even an unpopular opinion; I just felt the need to reiterate that MATT DONOVAN HAS SURVIVED OFF OF PLEC ARMOR AND PLEC ARMOR ALONE. There’s no way his non-power having self is getting buck with vampires like that and still breathing.
Damon should get as much hate for killing Tyler as Stefan does for killing Enzo.
Enzo was on this show for literally half of its run and his only relevance was the Augustine storyline and being Bonnie’s love interest (a move obviously made to negate the push for Bamon at the time). Everything he said and did in between those two things was nonsensical and did nothing but prove that the writers had NO IDEA what to do with him (pining for Mama Salvatore—are you serious?) Henceforth, he’s nothing but a waste of screen time in my eyes.
It genuinely feels like vampire!Elena lost brain cells.
I didn’t hate the siren plotline (but I also didn’t love it.)
The show really would’ve benefitted from pulling more from the books.
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My Spider-Man 4 wish list because there are rumours spreading that it's happening:
No more "uwu baby boy" Peter Parker! The next time I see Pete in the MCU he better be that jaded asshole (affectionate) he can be in the comics. None of that "mR sTaRk" nonsense either.
Keep it street-level. I've had enough big world ending threats events. Gimme Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man!
The next time he sees the Avengers or anyone Avengers adjacent, I want him to tell them to fuck right off.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON'T JUST IMMEDIATELY UNDO WHAT HAPPENED IN NWH!
Felicia Hardy please PLEASE!
Maybe a Daredevil cameo (a proper one not just Matt Murdock) I wanna see them being bros.
That's it for now, my brain juice isn't working so maybe I'll do a part 2 again when my brain cells decide to cooperate.
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Interesting Papers for Week 7, 2023
Dynamics of Temporal Integration in the Lateral Geniculate Nucleus. Alexander, P. C., Alitto, H. J., Fisher, T. G., Rathbun, D. L., Weyand, T. G., & Usrey, W. M. (2022). eNeuro, 9(4).
Degenerate boundaries for multiple-alternative decisions. Baker, S.-A., Griffith, T., & Lepora, N. F. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 5066.
Behaviorally relevant decision coding in primary somatosensory cortex neurons. Buetfering, C., Zhang, Z., Pitsiani, M., Smallridge, J., Boven, E., McElligott, S., & Häusser, M. (2022). Nature Neuroscience, 25(9), 1225–1236.
Attention rhythmically samples multi-feature objects in working memory. Chota, S., Leto, C., van Zantwijk, L., & Van der Stigchel, S. (2022). Scientific Reports, 12, 14703.
A neural correlate of perceptual segmentation in macaque middle temporal cortical area. Clark, A. M., & Bradley, D. C. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 4967.
People adaptively use information to improve their internal states and external outcomes. Cogliati Dezza, I., Maher, C., & Sharot, T. (2022). Cognition, 228, 105224.
The dorsal hippocampus’ role in context-based timing in rodents. De Corte, B. J., Farley, S. J., Heslin, K. A., Parker, K. L., & Freeman, J. H. (2022). Neurobiology of Learning and Memory, 194, 107673.
Human perceptual and metacognitive decision-making rely on distinct brain networks. Di Luzio, P., Tarasi, L., Silvanto, J., Avenanti, A., & Romei, V. (2022). PLOS Biology, 20(8), e3001750.
Parallel processing, hierarchical transformations, and sensorimotor associations along the ‘where’ pathway. Doudlah, R., Chang, T.-Y., Thompson, L. W., Kim, B., Sunkara, A., & Rosenberg, A. (2022). eLife, 11, e78712.
Small, correlated changes in synaptic connectivity may facilitate rapid motor learning. Feulner, B., Perich, M. G., Chowdhury, R. H., Miller, L. E., Gallego, J. A., & Clopath, C. (2022). Nature Communications, 13, 5163.
Biased belief priors versus biased belief updating: Differential correlates of depression and anxiety. Gagne, C., Agai, S., Ramiro, C., Dayan, P., & Bishop, S. (2022). PLOS Computational Biology, 18(8), e1010176.
Dopamine Modulates Adaptive Forgetting in Medial Prefrontal Cortex. Gallo, F. T., Zanoni Saad, M. B., Silva, A., Morici, J. F., Miranda, M., Anderson, M. C., … Bekinschtein, P. (2022). Journal of Neuroscience, 42(34), 6620–6636.
Long-lasting, dissociable improvements in working memory and long-term memory in older adults with repetitive neuromodulation. Grover, S., Wen, W., Viswanathan, V., Gill, C. T., & Reinhart, R. M. G. (2022). Nature Neuroscience, 25(9), 1237–1246.
Superstitious learning of abstract order from random reinforcement. Jin, Y., Jensen, G., Gottlieb, J., & Ferrera, V. (2022). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 119(35), e2202789119.
The developmental changes in intrinsic and synaptic properties of prefrontal neurons enhance local network activity from the second to the third postnatal weeks in mice. Kalemaki, K., Velli, A., Christodoulou, O., Denaxa, M., Karagogeos, D., & Sidiropoulou, K. (2022). Cerebral Cortex, 32(17), 3633–3650.
A molecularly integrated amygdalo-fronto-striatal network coordinates flexible learning and memory. Li, D. C., Dighe, N. M., Barbee, B. R., Pitts, E. G., Kochoian, B., Blumenthal, S. A., … Gourley, S. L. (2022). Nature Neuroscience, 25(9), 1213–1224.
Learning Spatiotemporal Properties of Hippocampal Place Cells. Lian, Y., & Burkitt, A. N. (2022). eNeuro, 9(4).
Mutual interaction between visual homeostatic plasticity and sleep in adult humans. Menicucci, D., Lunghi, C., Zaccaro, A., Morrone, M. C., & Gemignani, A. (2022). eLife, 11, e70633.
Natural switches in behaviour rapidly modulate hippocampal coding. Sarel, A., Palgi, S., Blum, D., Aljadeff, J., Las, L., & Ulanovsky, N. (2022). Nature, 609(7925), 119–127.
Understanding the structure of cognitive noise. Zhu, J.-Q., León-Villagrá, P., Chater, N., & Sanborn, A. N. (2022). PLOS Computational Biology, 18(8), e1010312.
#science#Neuroscience#computational neuroscience#Brain science#research#cognition#cognitive science#neurons#neural networks#neural computation#neurobiology#psychophysics#scientific publications
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AU's I want to write but don't have the time for 🫠
Sterek Transformers AU: Stiles inherits his mother's old Camaro for his 18th birthday, little does he know he is about to dive headfirst into the center of a centuries long war that could change the world. (Ft. Mechanic Derek who got dragged into this because he awoke bumblebee from stasis, Stiles and bumblebee sharing a single brain cell and giving Derek and Optimus gray hairs, and Derek and Ironhide brooding in a corner together and being in love with the extrovert your other introvert friends warn you about.)
Ghoap Ben 10 AU: Soap is a merc working with Farah and the liberation force in Kazakhstan who comes across a spaceship and Soap learns "fuck around and find out" the hard way when he accidentally wakes up an alien wrist watch that latches onto him and won't come off. (Ft. Grey-Matter Laswell who has been trying to track down the Omnitrix to hide it and keep it safe, Osmosian Ghost who needs the Omnitrix to get revenge for the near complete genocide of his people, and Plumbers Price, Gaz, Rudy, and Alejandro who are trying to keep Soap from fucking around and finding out even further and last but not least Soap finding out about his hidden alien heritage!)
Mungrove Need For Speed Heat AU: Billy is a street racer who has been making a name for himself in the nightlife scene lately with the help of his friend and fellow racer, Chrissy and her brother Steve. Eddie is the single dad to the cutest little five-year-old Dustin, and star-studded rookie chase-cop that is frustrated he can't seem to catch this infamous "Blondie". (Ft. Billy's sex on wheels Camaro kitted out to the max, Eddie being a total DILF who is extremely down bad for the California hottie that he pulled over for speeding, uncovering a network of dirty cops razing innocent nightlifers for money, and sex IN said sex on wheels Camaro.)
SteveTony/Superfamily The Last of Us PT1 AU: Tony and his ex-husband Steve lost their daughter at the start of the apocalypse and things went down hill from there. 20 years later Tony is dragged into helping an old colleague smuggle something out of the city, the last thing he expects is for "the package" to be a young boy who looks eerily familiar. (Ft. Stony Break-up/Make-up, Harley Keener (or Peter Parker) as the immune boy that will save the world, Steve (or Tony) having to explain that wow yeah I can see why you would think he's my son but I've never seen this kid in my life until a few weeks ago, shenanigans, post-apocalyptic horrors of an unimaginable kind, and found family.)
Ghoap "Alone" ABO AU: The adrenaline shot may have taken the edge off of Soap's pain but it also triggered his heat. (Ft. Protective Ghost creating a modern legend on his warpath to find and dick down Soap.)
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🍒🍊🍑🍍🍋
🍒 What’s your favorite character dynamic to write? (Can be romantic or platonic, specific or general!)
anything to do with romance. i like established relationships just because i don’t have to worry about the build up, or if things are moving too fast or too slow where it’s boring. but friends to lovers is cute too, even strangers to lovers is interesting to write because each time you write it, it’s different. like you’re watching different people fall in love, even if they’re the same characters, it’s like they’re falling in love over and over again in different universes. i also just love creating insane expectations for myself which will never come true
🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)
jimin. i think at least 80% of the stuff on my master list is requests at this point and no one ever requests jimin. someone has and it’s in my inbox still, but it’s like a request i need all my brain cells for so it’s been left for a while 😭 and i will get round to it one day. i guess technically he has his own story in ‘like crazy’ so i’m already moving towards my goal of writing him but idk why he just never gets written? especially because he feels like an easy character to build up??
🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?
jungkook x spider-man and i will forever stand by that, i could see 100% see him as peter parker RAH just thinking about it has me kicking my legs. and it doesn’t help that i see at least 3 edits once a month to feed my delusion.
maybe namjoon could kinda be aaron warner?? i could kinda see that actually 🧎🏻♀️
🍍 What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with? +
🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?
answers
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