#uncle ben perishes
Text
Grief
Hello, hello, hello! Here is a new work of mine~ Yes it has been a long while, I completely and utterly blame the education system. Why can’t a girl write fics forever in peace??
Anywho~ This is one of my squares for the Starker Festivals Summer Bingo 2022 and it's just my luck that the first square I manage to finish is the angst-iest of them all. 😅Some warnings for this story: This is the immediate aftermath of Uncle Ben's death, so Peter's point of view goes into detail about his overwhelming emotions and the terrifying situation. If reading about the death of a close family member or friend is particularly triggering for you, then it may be best to skip this one - I will never take it personally~
Take care, my friends and I hope you enjoy! 🌺
Also available on ~ AO3
SFSummerBingo2022 Prompt Fill ~ “Grief” @starkerfestivals
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Peter can’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe, his chest is expanding and expanding and expanding and no breath is coming out. He can’t stop gasping, he can’t stop looking at him; his chest, his face, the blood – Oh my god there’s so much blood –
Peter’s eyes are wide and frantic, darting around every inch of the scene in front of him; the ghostly image of his Uncle. No, no, no, that can’t be right, Peter thinks, panicked, He was just speaking a second ago, I could hear his voice, he was going to be fine I could hear his breath I could–
The indescribable shift of Uncle Ben’s eyes from warm and comforting and home to unrecognisably empty and cold and grey cannot stop flashing through Peter’s mind. His rabbiting heart has sunk low into his chest and even now the unforgiving pulse of desperation is throbbing against Peter’s entire body, scratching and pulling to break free and take over him completely.
It hurts. Oh god, it hurts so much, please make it stop, please, please, I can’t breathe–
The world becomes blurry and distorted with trembling tears, shaken by the constant tremors vibrating through his skin, stuck in his frozen eyes and stinging the length of his throat, begging to be released. But Peter can’t blink. He can’t move, he can’t see, he can feel the sticky weight of something on his hands, but he doesn’t dare glance down and look. Instead he remains stunned still in his new warped world, full of tears and blood and cold, cold eyes; all alone, never to be rescued.
Uncle Ben.
I can’t breathe.
Muffled voices start to filter into Peter’s lonely world, the words indistinguishable, as if Peter is drowning and his ears are full of tears and blood. He can’t hear anything. He can’t see.
Uncle Ben.
“Hey, Kid,” A single, gentle sound pierces the ocean surrounding Peter, fading slowly into his world, approaching his side like a torch in a cave; a lighthouse at sea. “Hey there, buddy,” The voice continues, its words clear and concise – comforting. “It’s gonna be okay, my name is Tony Stark, I’m an officer with the NYPD, the ambulance has arrived–”
“Un–” Peter’s throat closes up, fighting the onslaught of tears.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” The gentle voice – a man – has a body. It comes closer and presses their temples together so that the man’s ear is presumably closer to Peter’s trembling mouth. Peter can’t breathe.
“Uh– Un-” Peter gasps wetly. “Uncle Ben– ”
An animalistic cry tears its way through the oceanic barrier in Peter’s throat as he throws himself into the stranger’s arms and suddenly, the dam holding everything back bursts. A thunder drum of sound claps around his ears as he surfaces – hot, painful tears sliding from his eyes; deafening street life and onlookers surrounding every inch of him; his distorted world turning black as he squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. Please make it stop, it hurts, it hurts, I can’t see, my throat hurts so much, please help me, please help–
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you – I’m here now,” The man cradles him, protects him from the terrifying world, the people, the body lying just a few inches in front of him that he just can’t stop seeing. “I know it hurts, I know, you’ve been through something very frightening, and I’m so sorry you had to experience that.” A litany of comfort flows from the stranger’s mouth, the repetitive hum of his voice anchoring Peter. The tears don’t stop – his sobs continue to tear their way out of Peter’s throat – but the man keeps murmuring. Peter doesn’t want him to stop.
Time seems to twist and deform around them as they crouch there on the rain soaked pavement, everything and nothing happening all at once. Peter starts to make out the sound of other officers managing the crowd, passing civilians stopping to gawk and chatter with each other at the scene, different tires of different vehicles arriving and leaving one after the other, so many voices of so many people that Peter wants to scream at. He wants to demand that they all leave, that they stop their incessant staring and whispering and judging and sympathies, as if his Uncle Ben is some freak show or social commentary or anything close to these strangers’ business. Peter grips a little tighter at the gentle man’s clothes and takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“Can you hear me, Kid?”
Peter nods slowly.
“Shall we get out of this crowd and find somewhere quiet?”
Peter nods again.
~
Sitting in a police station is a very foreign experience for Peter. He’s always lived a life free of delinquency and misbehaviour. He never planned on ever seeing the inside of a prison cell and therefore assumed he’d live a life of blissful ignorance, only hearing of crime when it came from the lips of a detached news anchor. But the seats of the washed out, fluorescently lit police department are cold, uncomfortable and much too real for him to deny. He just wants to go home. He wants… that kind man to come back.
Peter was far too overwhelmed and lonely to feel embarrassed at the way he clung onto the police officer, not daring to let go lest he get swept up in a sea of first responders and never find that comforting presence ever again. The constant contact continued all the way through the tests, check-ups and investigations he sat through – different professionals rotating one after the other from their jobs on the crime scene to asking Peter the same few questions: “ What’s your name?” , “Are you alright?” , “Are you hurting anywhere?” , “Can you look into this light, please?” , “Can you follow my finger with just your eyes, please?” . The kind stranger started answering questions for Peter at some point when the repetition began to make him shut down almost completely, spurring the man to steal Peter away from all the disquietude and into a police car.
After another nonverbal insistence from Peter, the stranger – Tony Stark, as he reintroduced himself – ended up sitting in the backseat with him, another officer of some sort driving instead. The journey to the police department simultaneously took ages and no time at all. In reality, Peter couldn’t tell you how far away they were from that godforsaken street, or anywhere for that matter. The only thing he remembers from that car journey is his shy fingers reaching across the car seat towards Mr. Stark’s, seeking ever so much more comfort than he knows a police officer is willing (or allowed) to give to a random kid like himself, but even so, his trembling fingers were met halfway and grasped reassuringly tight, kickstarting a new, warm beating of his heart. For the first time that evening, he had begun to relax.
Now, however, that familiar, dreadful hollowness sits deep in his chest, Mr. Stark having left him with a gentle promise that Peter can’t remember. Was he promising to come back? Was he promising to send someone else? Am I being left here all night by myself? Constant what-ifs swell and congest in Peter’s mind, suffocating and confusing, but far better than the horrible, terrifying alternative that occasionally sneaks through the cracks in his thoughts, showing flashes of cold eyes, slack features and stained hands. Peter’s face crumples painfully in his attempts to not burst into pathetic wails again, his shoes squeaking against the floor as he tucks his whole body onto the plastic chair, hiding his face in his knees like a child afraid of a looming monster. Except there is no Uncle Ben, this time, to chase them away.
“Hey, Peter.”
Lifting his head up slightly, Peter sees Mr. Stark standing off to his side, a steaming paper cup in one hand and a spiral notebook in the other. For the first time, Peter actually looks at the man – at his features, his uniform, his height and his stance – and he is just lucid enough to recognise the man’s handsomeness. Mr. Stark’s face is aged, but by no means less attractive for being so; his entire air is distinguished yet there is a recognisable stiffness in his shoulders and a heaviness to his gait, hinting at a concealed exhaustion only made visible in moments of solitary weakness. Though, Peter can hardly imagine a strong, comforting figure like Mr. Stark ever appearing weak. A painfully obvious difference between them, Peter notes, bitterly. He doesn’t think their positions could be any more contrasting, in fact; a shivering teen next to an experienced cop. What a pathetic picture they must be painting.
“The break room only has either coffee that tastes like soot or watery hot chocolate, so I thought I’d spring for the lesser of two evils,” Tony gestures to the cup in his hand, moving forward to place it on a low circular table next to Peter’s chair, right on top of some scattered helpline pamphlets and police recruitment ads displaying triumphant imagery of young men and women in trainee uniforms – now a makeshift coaster. “Don’t feel obliged to drink, I certainly wouldn’t blame you – I’ve certainly had my fill of the refreshments here – I just thought it would be better than nothing,” The older man squats down in front of Peter attentively, face open and understanding, not even the slightest hint of condescension. Peter is grateful.
“Thank you,” He croaks out, immediately clearing his throat in embarrassment. Great, as if he didn’t feel small enough already.
“You’re very welcome, Peter,” A simple smile accompanies Mr. Stark’s words, simple but ever so comforting. After briefly shifting his weight on his heels, Mr. Stark’s features dim slightly into an expression of seriousness. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to brief you on what needs to happen now, for you at least.”
Peter’s chest stutters, his jaw tightening against the infuriating tremble of his chin. Goddammit, Peter, get a grip. He quickly looks down at his lap before Mr. Stark can see the immense effort it’s taking for him to not burst into tears; to not scream at the top of his lungs for Uncle Ben or May or his parents; to not lunge forward and bury himself in the arms of this poor police officer and hide away until the pain finally stops. His fingers grip tighter at the material of his jeans as Peter breathes a shaky inhale. His nails are still stained red.
Before Peter can spiral any further, a tender hand rests on top of his shaking knuckles, unmoving and unwavering.
“Take some deep breaths with me, Pete, there’s absolutely no rush,” Mr. Stark starts breathing loud and slow, his thumb smoothing over Peter’s skin. “I’ve got nowhere to be tonight, okay? Breathe nice and slow for me, there you go, in-and-out – you’ve got this,” In and out, in and out, God, Peter can’t believe he has to be instructed on how to breathe. It’s humiliating and terrifying, but damn if it isn’t helping to steady him. Mr. Stark’s hand is so comfortingly grounding, fostering a newfound desire in Peter to tilt up his palm and squeeze back just as tight, so that he may share all of this emotion through touch alone, so that he won’t have to feel so completely isolated in the frightening promise of what is bound to change about him and his life from this day forward. It scares him, but he starts to settle. His fingers flex underneath Mr. Stark’s. He receives an answering squeeze.
“How are we doing, Pete?” That compassionate voice sounds once more – soft and pleasant as ever. I don’t know, I don’t know, just- please don’t let me go. “Do you think you’re okay to talk now?” Peter nods, somewhat robotically.
“Yeah, I think so,” Peter murmurs, voice more firm now, but still worn out. Overused. Exhausted. “I mean, if not now, when, right?”
“Well,” Mr. Stark smiles amiably. “Like I said, I’ve got nowhere to be,” His arms spread grandly, a mock display that is completely charming. “So just let me know if you ever need to take a break or anything, alright?”
“Mhm,” Peter hums, reaching to his side to grasp the abandoned drink, his senses soothing slightly at the gentle warmth of the paper. He almost misses the pleased look on Mr. Stark’s face.
~
The evening stretches on after that, with Peter being informed about inevitable police reports, investigations and possible court proceedings regarding the… incident, as well as funeral and mortuary information that Peter can’t help but break down again at. Cue some more restrained tears and an eventual embrace where Mr. Stark is still leaning up from his crouched position in front of Peter’s chair, resolute and enduring as ever, even though his whole frame must’ve been uncomfortable holding Peter like that for so long. But not a single complaint leaves the older man’s mouth.
It’s with his head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder that Peter notices Aunt May shuffling through the automatic doors, face pale and body hunched over, a terribly lost look in her eyes. Peter’s never hugged her so hard in his life. They’ve never cried together so desperately, all without having to utter a single word.
The night continues to draw on.
Aunt May, Mr. Stark and Peter visit several different rooms to talk to several different people for different exhausting reasons. Recounting the events of the evening to men in white shirts and notepads takes physical effort at some points, but Mr. Stark always speaks up to rephrase, ask easier questions or just to pat a reassuring hand on his shoulder or his back or his leg. It eases his nerves also to see him do the same for Aunt May.
After the sufficient amount of questions seem to have been asked (too many), he and Aunt May are led back to the main lobby by Mr. Stark once more, condolences and final goodbyes exchanged (with Peter glancing a tad too longingly at the man who spent the whole night by his side). Just as they’re both steeling themselves for the eeriest car ride of their lives, back to their cold apartment, Mr. Stark calls out.
“Peter! Could you come back over here for a second?” A quick, wordless glance at Aunt May communicates her approval. Peter walks back into the building as she ventures out into the car park.
“Yeah, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks quietly, awkwardly slipping his hands into his pockets.
“‘Mr. Stark’, huh? That's very cute, I’ve only ever been called that in job interviews,” Mr. Stark jokes gently, with a grin so comfortable that Peter can’t help but huff a laugh in return. This man. “‘ Mr. Stark ’, very cool, very… distinguished,” The older man trails off as he scribbles quickly in his notepad before tearing out the sheet and holding it out to Peter proudly. “Here.”
“What’s that?” Peter eyes the paper, confused.
“These are my contact details,” Mr. Stark answers, nonchalant. Peter, on the other hand, has stopped functioning. “In case you have any questions about anything police-wise, investigation-wise, or just- if you need someone to talk to about anything,” The man’s face is too sincere to be joking about this. Peter takes the paper, still dumbfounded.
“Y-You… want me to talk to you about stuff?” Peter questions, still waiting for the catch. This police officer spent all night tending to him and he isn’t kicking Peter out at the first chance he gets? He’s actively extending the offer to keep in touch?
“Well it’s not obligatory, of course, but y’know, you can just text or phone or email or something – I did write my email on the, uh–”
“Okay,” Peter blurts, probably embarrassingly, but he’s still too stunned to notice. “Okay, I-I’ll… text you?”
“Yeah! Texting’s great, that’s great – anything you need, Peter,” Mr. Stark’s eyes glance up, his dark brown eyes swimming with contentment. Peter looks back, entranced. He can feel that his eyes aren’t glowing as much as they used to – his emotions no longer shining through as freely as they once did. He’s closed off. But this man saved him from shutting down altogether and for that, Peter tries his best to convey just how grateful he is through his eyes; greyed and dimmed.
To Peter’s surprise, he starts to see his own grief reflect back at him. Everything that terrified, confused and damaged Peter from tonight flashes behind the colour of Mr. Stark’s irises – a colour that, on closer inspection, was probably just as dulled as Peter’s feel right now. All the exhaustion is there; the uncertainty and guilt and blame, all hidden, but also… overcome. Peter sees himself. He sees pain. He sees love.
“Have a safe journey home, Peter,” Mr. Stark – Tony – rumbles. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon,” Peter has so much to say to this man, so much to ask… He settles for a final tight hug that is reciprocated tenfold.
“I’ll see you then,” Peter whispers, the last defiant sting in his throat resurfacing, silent tears starting to brim.
“You better, Mr. Parker,” A promise is shared. Something implicit and beyond words is shared. Peter doesn’t want to go.
“Bye, Mr. Stark,” A parting wave is the last thing he sees before he turns to go out into the chilled early-morning mist, the sun beginning to peek its way through the city’s buildings. A new day. Peter walks towards the family car.
On the journey back home to their apartment, their lives and the inescapable change, Peter looks down at his phone and then at the paper clutched tightly in one hand. He creates a new phone contact.
~
#starker#starker fandom#starker community#Jem's stuff#Jem's fics#sfsummerbingo22#ironspider#spideriron#peter parker x tony stark#tony stark x peter parker#peter parker/tony stark#tony stark/peter parker#angst#whump#character death#uncle ben perishes#Police officer!Tony#Tony is a police officer#no powers au#police au#descriptions of blood#descriptions of death#hurt/comfort#starker fic#starker fanfic#starker fanfiction#starker fics#starker fanfics#starker fanfictions#starker artists unite
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
everything changes nothing perishes.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/56213860
by akxshyaaa
He shuffled to the left of the class and sat near a tan-skinned boy, who was very intently colouring on a paper. Peter peered over to look at what he was colouring.
“Is that the Death Star?!” He asked, grinning when the boy looked up at him with a smile.
“Yeah! You watch Star Wars?” The boy asked.
Words: 1071, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 3 of his greatest creation.
Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Uncle Ben Parker (Marvel), Ned Leeds
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Uncle Ben Parker & Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker
Additional Tags: Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Precious Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Precious Ned Leeds, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker Friendship, First Day of School, Father-Son Relationship
read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/56213860
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm gonna come out and say it; No Way Home sucked. Sure, it had some good moments but in my opinion, it does not live up to the first two instalments of the trilogy. I liked the first part of the movie but as soon as I knew where the second part was going, I fell off that train pretty quickly.
Not only did it make MCU Spidey end up with the same tale as his two predecessors but it also undoes Peter's entire establishment in Marvel's overall franchise. What was the point of the last four movies putting him on the roster with Earth's MIGHTIEST Heroes if you were just going to take all that away and make it like he exists in a completely separate world from them? What was the point of the three cameos we had from RDJ, Samuel L. Jackson, and Benedict Cumberbatch in their iconic roles to show that interconnected universe as with every other MCU movie, only for that to be stripped away at the very last second? Might as well have been another one of Sony's solo ventures at making a series after TASM but it's not and that's why I HATE the uncertainty of Peter Parker's future in the MCU. However, given the current failing reality of the MCU with every new movie that comes out, I can already confirm it's nothing good. In fact, it probably would be best if progress stops altogether before Marvel really is stuck in the dust and just a part of a magnificent past with no legacy to carry on. (This is a side note but that is still a big issue for me anyways that I may expand upon later in another post. In the meantime, go watch all the video essays on YouTube, I'm sure you'll find many good ones.)
He had a unique story that fit into the overarching plot of the MCU and the premise he had was different from the previous Spideys which is what was so interesting about his character development. This Peter Parker had friends that weren't introduced before, or at least, they were more developed than in other series; he had a superhero as a mentor, not a scientist turned villain due to unfortunate circumstances; he had a guy in the chair who wasn't after him or turned villain because his father was one, he had two crushes that were friends, he was part of clubs and acted more teenage-like than the last two. He interacts with other heroes, joins the Avengers, fights THE villain, perishes, comes back, loses his mentor, and is still expected to keep on going.
For crying out loud, he was asked if he was going to be the next Iron Man but he knew he wasn't which is what Far From Home set out to show us. And to all those who called him Iron Man Jr. in Homecoming, I hope you know that you make no sense and I think Marvel did a wonderful job making him stand apart. He was a kid admiring one of his role models and now that he actually had a connection to him, of course he was going to want to be like his mentor but even Tony recognized that he wanted him to be more, not like him. This shows Iron Man himself had great respect for the young hero.
Now, moving onto No Way Home, two main things that annoy the heck out of me; Peter being forgotten (obviously) and Aunt May dying. I'll start with Aunt May's death. To be honest, it was a completely unnecessary death and it actually doesn't make sense for the purpose it had in the movie. The punchline "With great power comes great responsibility." loses its premise as soon as you recall Civil War's intro to Peter in the first place. Uncle Ben had already died, Peter was Spider-Man at this point, and remember what Peter told Tony when they met, why the older hero related to him so much? "When you can do the things that I can, but you don't... and then the bad things happen... they happen because of you." So he already learned that lesson on responsibility and by the time we get to No Way Home, this kid had learned lessons also involving the universe at large. Why are we rehashing Uncle Ben's offscreen death with Aunt May if Marvel literally stated that was overdone? Make that make sense. But oh, it was to make something big and dramatic happen in the movie because we needed to mOve aLoNg. Peter lost his parents, his uncle, and mentor; can you come up with something new other than parental figure losses? Why do TASM Peter and OG Peter still have their Aunt Mays and even if it was just a deleted scene, technically TASM Peter's dad? Huh, then what do you say there? Why did MCU Peter Parker have to lose ALL his parental figures?
Finally, the thing that probably broke most of us; Peter being wiped from everyone's memory. As I stated earlier, his entire existence within the MCU just vanishes, like that, in seconds. So......... what was the point of his existence up till now in the MCU? What was the point of his specific development and growth if he was just going to get forgotten? Why was he meticulously introduced at the height of the Avengers' conflict and then constantly involved with some other MCU hero/important character if he was going to be removed from that? If the Avengers were never a big deal, why make him a part of that at all and why were we still bringing them up at the climax of the film? For those who bring up the argument that he's supposed to be a solitary hero, well that was the worst way to have introduced him then, right? But Marvel chose that route, not any other. Which is why that decision still makes no sense to me. You put him in a world where he wasn't the only superhero and he was going to interact with other heroes which none of the other Spider-Men had and that already put him in a unique position. Why give him a background that was going to get swiped?
Imagine that, making five blockbuster films that gave him a firm standing in the MCU at the peak of Phase 3 and then in his sixth film, his last standalone which is supposed to be his most shining moment, he gets the rug pulled out from underneath him to give him a blank slate? You might as well have thrown every script out from 2015 to 2019 including him before they were ever written or considered. It's the equivalent of undoing everything you just worked on in a school project that's worth 40% of your final grade. Think about that for a second. Marvel just undid 6 years of work and investment in a single character for them to go back to the beginning. Why didn't you just do that then from the start? You could have had more classic Spidey a long time ago by that train of thought (which I really didn't want because we already saw that twice and this Spidey was something fresh).
Anyways, thanks for reading. This is 2 years worth of disappointment and frustration put on the page.
#peter parker#spider-man#mcu analysis#mcu rant#spider-man: no way home review#mcu thoughts#spider-man: homecoming#spider-man: no way home#homecoming#no way home#the avengers#avengers#marvel cinematic universe#mcu#marvel
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Incorrect Quotes Tag Game
Thank you to @writinglittlebeasts for tagging me!
So, I’m meant to use this generator to produce a bunch of incorrect quotes for my OCs:
Dear Lord, some of these are crazy…
Btw you can filter them based on your interests (e.g. shipping/non-shipping, etc).
I think I’ll just do my Steph’s Crew characters.
Let’s go!
Elise: I'm the smartest person in my friend group.
Ben: You hang out with Bret, Dylan, Steph, and Alice.
Ben: It's not as high a compliment as you think.
—————
Dylan: What's worse than a heartbreak?
Alice: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging.
Elise: Waking up in the morning.
Ben: Waking up.
Stephanie: Waking up in the morning...
Stephanie: And seeing Bret.
Bret: Hey! Rude!!
—————
Elise : I CAN'T DO IT!
Alice, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!
Elise : I CAN'T FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE.
Ben: WELL I’LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.
Elise:
Elise : I appreciate it,
Elise : BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-
Stephanie: El -
Elise : YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!
Alice: Ellie we gotta-
Elise : YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.
Elise : YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'
Elise, motioning to Bret: NOT FUCKING THIS!
—————
Dylan: A mouse!
Ben, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you.
Alice, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal!
Elise, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy.
Bret, gasping: It's Ratatouille!
Elise: His name is Remy, dummy.
Dylan : ...I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window... what is wrong with you people.
—————
Stephanie, walking into her house: Hello, Ben and other people who do not live here.
Ben: Hey!
Dylan: Hi.
Alice: Hello.
Elise: Hey.
Stephanie: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!
Bret: We were out of Doritos.
—————
Dylan, to the Squad: I'd die for you.
Bret: Then perish.
Ben: You will.
Alice: Please don't.
Stephanie: Cool.
Elise: I'd die for you first.
—————
Ben: Christmas lights?
Alice: Check.
Elise: Thermos of hot cocoa?
Alice: Check.
Dylan: Santa suits?
Alice: Check.
Bret: Shovel?
Alice: Check.
Stephanie: Alibi and bail money?
Alice: Check- wait, WHAT?!
—————
Dylan: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.
Dylan: Violently practices.
Elise: Violently studies.
Stephanie: Violently sleeps.
Alice: Violently shoots pictures.
Bret: Violently boxes.
Ben: Violently murders people.
Stephanie: Violently worries about the previous statement.
—————
Elise: She was poetry, but he couldn't read.
Alice: His name was Jared, he's 19.
Stephanie: When his parents built a very strange machine.
Bret, singing: Watch that scene, digging the dancing queen.
Dylan, singing: Eyyyy, Macarena!
Elise: Horrible job everyone.
—————
Stephanie: Alright, who's hogging the Netflix account? I've been locked out all week!
Ben: Sucks to suck! I'm already on the 8th season of Friends!
Elise: Not me.
Stephanie: Don't lie. I know it's not Alice or Dylan.
Elise: It's not me, really!
Stephanie: ...
Elise: …But it might be Bret...
Stephanie: You gave Bret access to my Netflix account!?!?
Elise: He wanted to watch Orange is the New Black!
Stephanie: I'm going to kill you.
—————
Bret: Where is everyone?
Alice: Dylan had a nervous collapse, Ben is looking after him, and Steph is apparently trying to kill El, so I'm in charge.
Bret: Oh my god!
Alice : I know, right?
—————
Elise: Capitalization is the difference between "I had to help my uncle Jack off a horse.." and "I had to help my uncle jack off a horse.."
—————
Stephanie: Fine! Judge all you want but...
Stephanie, points at Ben: Married a lesbian.
Stephanie, points at Elise: Left a man at the altar.
Stephanie, points at Alice: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer.
Stephanie, points at Bret: Threw a girl's wooden leg in a fire.
Stephanie, points at Dylan: Lives in a box!
—————
at the supermarket
Ben: All right, the last item on the list is "virgin oil."
Ben:
Ben: Wow. Imagine being an item and still being called a virgin.
—————
I think I’ll end it here.
That was tons of fun! I’ll tag these people to do it next:
@gummybugg, @mysticstarlightduck, @winterandwords, @jay-avian, @clairelsonao3
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spiderverse AU - Douxie
Okay, since I've seen a few people with verses, I might as well toss out the S.piderverse AU I have for my wizard bard since he was my easiest to come up with one.
There will be spoilers below the cut, so you've been warned!
Douxie is very much STILL a wizard of 921 years in this. He moved to New York after being based in Arcadia, California for a while. But this New York doesn't only have humans, but fantasy creatures alike to blend in and live amongst their neighbors. Though, they are much more low key, and there are some fantasy centric areas that they can feel safe within and are hidden by clever magical illusions to keep the mortal humans out.
He was bitten by a alchemical spider, one forged by Morgana herself. A champion of her own was going to be chosen much like the troll hunter of Merlin's design, but it escaped during a confrontation with Skrael and Bellrock. It instead bit Douxie and gave him even more abilities common to spiderman. He goes by Spider-Skull ( or until I can think of a better name LMAO).
I imagine his outfit is kinda like Hobie's. Except some considerable differences of course, I can't see Douxie sporting the blue and red with a spikey head 😂. But the punk theme DOES come out in Douxie's design too, just with his OWN personal touches. Black uniform with glowy blue webby markings. Maybe a spider on his chest with an abdomen in the shape of a skull. He has two braces , one for each arm, to help further hone in his spidey abilities. Maybe a spikey neck guard? IDK. I gotta draw it out one day. But he definitely uses blue, magical sticky silk akin to what he already uses!
He still uses his spellcaster guitar and wizard's staff! He can easily send them to a pocket realm and poof them into reality with his magic whenever he needs them.
His 'Uncle Ben' In this verse is Merlin of course, who perished during an attack of the arcane order and the Green Knight during modern times. merlin, during the times of Camelot, found douxie on the streets when he was but a child, and gave him a home and taught him as an apprentice once upon a time.
Douxie still has Archie, his feline dragon shapeshifter familiar and bestfriend who assists him. They have always worked together, and they aren't going to stop now.
SPOILERS below.
although he worked with miguel o'hara and was given a device to jump universes along with the rest of the spider society.... he turned away when he realized how closed minded the entire set-up was and how he does not agree to their extreme methods of handling things. He believes that that cycle can be broken alongside Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie, and many others as he is a huge believer that every life is precious and would risk countless others to save one.
#&&. Douxie ( v: Spiderverse )#&&. throws this out into the dash even though I probably will barely use it!#&&. but this is what I thought about when I saw the movie the other week LOL
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: T
Relationships: Peter & Tony
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark; MENTIONED - Ben Parker
Summary: Peter stargazes, only to remember the brevity of life.
Word count: 1.459
AO3
TRIGGER WARNINGS - discussions of death, existential angst, past character death, past near death experiences, fear of death and trauma
DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY.
--
Every night has been the same for the past year. In some of them, Peter will go to a building under the starry sky, hoping to get any comfort for his inner turmoil. To no avail, because stars, like everything else, are not eternal.
All stars explode one day, even if it might take millions of years. Many might have already exploded a long time ago, but you can still see them shining through in the sky. Possibly every night, new stars come to replace the absent, perished ones, blown up to nothingness.
Stargazing only reminds Peter that he won’t be seeing the stars again one day. He won’t feel the rain falling, or the sunlight touching and warming his skin, or May’s hugs, or the pizza that he eats. One day, it’s all going to be over. Permanently.
The stars in his life have already exploded. His parents, his uncle… who knows, he might be next.
“Peter, your heart rate is rising.”
He sniffs, feeling the tears beneath his mask.
“I-I’m fine, Karen.”
“Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?”
Peter would’ve said no automatically, especially now in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t like to bother his mentor… but the bad feeling in his stomach gets the best of him, and so he finds himself complying.
“… Okay.”
“Calling Tony Stark.”
The line rings a couple times until it’s picked up.
“Hello, kid?” Tony says, confused, not tired. “Your patrol should’ve been over 3 hours ago.”
“Hi. I know,” Peter sighs.
“What’s up then, kiddo?”
“I… I haven’t slept well lately.”
“You certainly sound like it. What’s wrong?”
Peter doesn’t want to burden him with an existential crisis, but there’s nowhere else to do anymore. Going up here never helps, despite the fresh, chilling air. If anything, it’s only suffocating.
“I keep thinking, Mr. Stark,” he gulps, not finishing the sentence.
“Thinking…?”
“… about death.”
Tony grows silent.
“N-Not like I want to…” Peter clears his throat. “I mean, I just think about death itself. Sometimes it just kinda hits me out of warning, the reminder that I’m going to die one day. It’s been worse after my uncle died, and no matter what I do, I’ll always remember that death exists, that death is inevitable, and… I get scared. Really scared.”
“Oh, Pete…”
“I-I usually try to ignore it, but it keeps coming to me all of a sudden. I’ll be living my life normally until it comes back to haunt me. I just wish it would stop.”
Tony seems to try to process an answer for him, because he takes a little while to reply.
“Listen, I’m already on my way to you. Can you hold on for a minute?”
“O-Okay,” Peter sniffs again, his mask getting wet and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“No need to be sorry, kiddo. I understand how you feel.”
“You do?”
“A lot more than you imagine.”
The teen pauses, noticing the background thrusters in Tony’s end.
“Be right there,” the latter says, finally ending the call.
Once Peter removes his mask, he starts crying more. Were he still young, he would’ve run to his Uncle Ben for a hug and words of reassurance. But he’s never going to feel Ben’s arms wrapping around him tightly, nor is he going to smell his cologne ever again.
He doesn’t want to imagine himself exploding when the day comes, too.
It takes a couple minutes for him to hear the thrusters again, like they’ve come to rescue him from his thoughts. Peter doesn’t hide his teary face.
“H-Hi,” Peter manages.
“Hey. It’s beautiful up here, huh?”
“Yeah.”
The small talk doesn’t last.
Tony is sitting next to him now.
“I’ve always been… aware of death, since my parents died. But I never really thought about what it meant,” Peter explains. “Not until I lost Ben. He was the closest person to me, and then… he was gone.” He lets out a lost sob. “It made me realize that death is permanent. Death is final, and worse, it’s completely random. It can happen to anyone anytime. I-I could die at any moment, especially as Spider-Man.”
Tony doesn’t interrupt him.
“I know it’s how nature works, I know that that’s the point of living, but…” Peter’s voice breaks. “It’s so terrifying, Mr. Stark. I don’t like imagining what it must feel like. I don’t think there’s anything at all. Imagine not feeling anything. You just… end. Forever.” He sobs again, hugging his own knees. “Every time I think too much about it, I start panicking, because I don’t want to die. Even if it takes hundreds of years, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to die.”
Peter buries his face in his knees, scared of the stars up above. Scared for all those that have exploded and will yet explode. Remembering the brightest star of all, his uncle, dying in his arms, losing blood, losing the life in his eyes.
He then feels an arm wrapped around him, pulling him close to metal. Unlike what you’d believe, it’s not at all uncomfortable. It’s solid, it’s… alive.
“You’re right, Pete,” Tony tells him, calmly. “Death is scary. It being random is precisely what makes it so scary. And when you’re a hero, death is even closer to you than to other people.”
Peter’s tears fall in Tony’s armor, and they roll down until the end.
“I-I don’t know how people just… live normally knowing they could die at any moment. I just- feel like hiding in my room forever,” the boy weeps.
There’s a hand on his curls, smoothing them gently. Peter shivers at the contact, especially at the hardness of the metal.
“… I was in a similar place before.”
Peter sniffs. “Really?”
When he looks up, Tony’s gaze is tired, sad.
“It was after the alien invasion,” he says. “I couldn’t even function normally. I would hide in my workshop, not sleep for days, working endlessly on suits to protect me, to protect Pepper. I also had plenty of panic attacks.” Tony then looks up. “I faced death so many times, that… I thought something would go wrong at any moment.”
Peter has never heard him sound that way. Tony was usually honest with him, but tonight… he’s never sounded so hurt, without even breaking.
“And well, things did still go wrong. Horribly wrong. I almost lost Happy, and Pepper… and Rhodey,” he continues without shedding a single tear. “Even years later… I’ve lost so much.”
Despite not panicking like Peter, Tony is the most vulnerable he’s even seen him. For a moment, the man seems… lost. But then he’s looking at Peter again, like the boy is his whole world, and there’s light in his deep, dark eyes.
“But then… I still gained something,” Tony smiles sadly at him. “I got to meet you, Peter. And since then, my life seems to be making sense again. It’s meaning something again.”
Peter only gazes back, awestruck, tears still falling. Tony raises a hand to gently wipe his wet face.
“I understand your fear. Maybe more than anyone,” he says. “I certainly don’t blame you, kiddo, death is horrifying, it’s a curse everyone’s doomed with. It’s the one thing we will never escape, no matter what science does, no matter what religion does. Everyone, everything we know is going to cease.”
Tony moves Peter’s one unruly curl out of his face.
“Even then, I think the one thing that still makes sense out of all this… is that we’ve got each other.” He’s smiling with his life. “We’re going through the same thing. And what we can still do, is take care of each other.”
The teenager is being hugged tightly, which he immediately returns with everything he has. He can’t let this fade away.
“I promise you, Peter, you’re not going to die on my watch,” Tony reassures. “You’ll be safe with me.”
Peter sobs harder, his fear yelling, but thankfully, being held and acknowledged.
“I’ve got you,” Tony whispers in his year, rocking him side to side. He would’ve probably complained that it makes him feel childish, but at this point Peter could not care.
The night feels less scary right now, for the first time in a while. The two heroes hold one another for some more time, until it’s 2 AM, and Tony flies him back home, and stays with him as May is in her night shift tonight. They watch TV together, Tony makes him some hot chocolate and it warms Peter’s heart, quieting down his disturbed mind.
It takes a while for Peter to fall asleep – mostly because he’s been afraid to –, but with Tony here, he has nothing to worry about.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nimardril - Relationships
This is to go with Nimardril's bio, here.
Names with a ~ indicate a character played by someone other than myself
Living Family:
~Celebithil: Nimardril's uncle and father figure, who she went to live with once she left Lothlórien. Early or mid Second Age elf, previously a commander and soldier, now resides in Glaston, having taken over as the Armsmaster of Adshanzun after Nialwen left. He previously was very critical of humans, but has softened his stance in recent years.
~Gilithilon: Nimardril’s cousin, born early to mid third age, and was already an adult when she came to live with them in Rivendell. More stern than his younger brother, but also better with battle prowess, he helped Nimardril hone her weapon skills. She views him as an older brother. (@sewer-princess)
Meneladir: Nimardril’s cousin, born early to mid third age, and was already an adult when she came to live with them in Rivendell. More easy-going than his older brother and father, but still just as protective of her as they were, he helped her learn to read and write in Westron, and got her interested in reading, song, and dance.
All three were very protective of her during her time in Rivendell, and still are, sometimes to a degree that annoys Nimardril, but she is glad for their love and support.
Present:
~Eruingil: One of the first people she met after arriving in Glaston, and Nimardril considers her one of her best friends, even if she doesn’t see her as much since leaving Glaston. They both went through many ordeals during the journey with Adshanzun to Rohan and back. Nimardril also likes and respects Eruingil’s father from the time spent traveling with him and others. (@simbilmyne)
~Daerhovan: Nimardril's current traveling companion, quickly becoming a good friend as well. He's helped her a lot with moving past her divorce and exploring the world again, and she views him almost as an ideal of hope, since he's helped her to enjoy life again. She also is harboring a small, but growing crush on him that she worries is more of a rebound on her part, but hasn't yet truly tried to stomp down. Perhaps that will change once she finds out that he's married.(@loremastering)
~Verya: Daerhovan's lynx companion. Nimardril was uneasy around her at first, since she often hunts wild animals, but after realizing that Verya herself is a hunter, and sharing jerky and ham with her, Verya seems to like Nimardril well enough to not make her wary. Verya also helped keep her less furry companions warm in the mountains, and now reminds Nimardril a bit of her cats at home. (@loremastering)
~Benigaris: A man Nimardril knows from Glaston, and now considers a friend. She was wary of him at first, due to being warned away from him by Eruvion, and finding out about his reputation as a skirt-chaser, but she found him to be honorable and a good friend the more she spoke with him. He was also, in her mind, the only one supportive of her in her unfortunately very public divorce. She considers him handsome for a human, and perhaps would have taken things further with him if she had stayed in Glaston, but it likely would have been more of a fling than anything else.
~Puddlefoot: Ben's bear companion. Nimardril doesn’t know this bear well, but he has been in Glaston many times without hurting anyone, so she figures he’s alright.
~Aridana: An elleth married to a Rohirim man, living in Gondor, but she often stopped by Glaston to visit her mother in the past. Nimardril views her as a friend, and admires that she stands up to Celebithil.
~Nialwen: Aridana’s mother and former armsmaster of Adshanzun, she accompanied the group on the journey to Rohan and back, and Nim got to know her a little better during that time. The dagger she always carries at her side was given to her by Nialwen, who originally made it for her husband who perished at the beginning of the War of the Ring by an unknown poison. Nimardril looks to Nialwen as a mother figure of sorts, as she hasn’t had many of those, and she secretly hopes her uncle’s apparent affections for her go somewhere, despite it seeming like Nialwen is not interested. Nimardril also greatly admires her skill in weaponry.
~Dagdalin: The first dwarf Nimardril got to know on any level other than as a passing acquaintance. Dagdalin saved Nimardril's life after she was bitten by a cursed snake, and proved to be a very impressive fighter and elementalist during Adshanzun's journey to Rohan. She's impressed, and a little intimidated by him, as well as extremely grateful.
~Grandmaw: Nimardril's neighbor in Glaston, a sweet, if strange old human who is fond of cats. She and her daughter, Naavia, and boarder, Caitta, take care of Nimardril's cats when she is away. (@sewer-princess)
~Rildoreth: An elven scout of Rivendell who now lives in Glaston with her family, including her son Eruvion, Nimardril's former husband. Nimardril looks up to her for her scouting abilities, and like Nialwen, is one of the few mother figures she's had in her life. Nimardril is forever grateful that Rildoreth is still kind to her, despite her leaving Eruvion, for her kindness and caring demeanor made Nimardril feel safe and happy.
~Ogborg: A woman Nimardril used to consider a friend, until tense times during Adshanzun's journey to Rohan became too much and too often. She respects her fighting skills still, but not much else, especially after how Ogborg acted during her divorce, and then later seemed to be following her around. Her sexual advances intrigued Nimardril at one point, but now she just finds them crude. (@sewer-princess)
Past:
Curonthos: A guard and scout of Lothlórien, just like Nimardril's father, who he was good friends with. He and his wife Luinlalaith tried to look after her as best they could after her parents were gone, and Curonthos continued her training with the bow, hunting, and scouting. He was the one who finally sent word to Celebithil in Rivendell of what had happened. He also is the older brother of Gallorith's deceased best friend.
~Luinlalaith: Wife of Curonthos, helped look after Nimardril after her parents were gone, but found her to care for nothing but training and fighting. Nimardril wishes now she'd learned more from her, and been less unwilling at the time. (@loremastering)
~Gallorith: Gardener in Lothlórien, former soldier. Has turned to meditation and pacifism to attempt to deal with his experiences in war. Treated Nimardril as a little sister, and tried to help her deal with her emotions, as well. Joined the group traveling with Adshanzun to Rohan along with his wife, Elgaladwen, who Nimardril knew in passing in Rivendell as a friend of her uncle's. (@sewer-princess)
Moradan: Former soldier of Mirkwood, used to carry messages between Felegoth and Caras Galadhon. Had a relationship with Nimardril when she was barely into adulthood, but really was looking for some fun, while she was looking for something serious, so he ultimately broke it off, and completely broke Nimardril's heart.
~Eruvion: A soldier with Adshanzun, and scholar, who lives in Glaston. Nimardril's former husband in the traditional sense. She met him in The Prancing Pony in Bree, and found him handsome, and charming in a way that appealed to her greatly. It was due to he and his family that she decided to settle in Glaston for a time, and to join them in their journeys and battles. During the journey to Rohan in particular, she realized how much she'd miss Eruvion if something happened to him, and when she was captured by Zga and entangled in her webs before convincing the spider queen to free her, she felt such a regret at not getting to say goodbye to Eruvion, that it would long haunt her. When they were safe in Glaston again, and finally alone after so much time on the road with others, they finally got together, and for Nimardril, sleeping with someone meant marriage, and so they were wed, though never in a ceremony. Later, Nimardril would grow to feel stifled, and leave him, even if the marriage had been of her own volition. She still cares for him very much, and is regretful for hurting him.
~Ollosfin: A traveling bard, sweet of voice and visage, who took Nimardril's heart, even though she was married. (Or perhaps even more so, since she was feeling trapped) She was very conflicted over her feelings for him, knowing she should not have them, and eventually turned him down and left Glaston, fleeing from her feelings, Ollosfin, and her husband. She tried to find him again after her divorce, but was told he had long moved on. She remembers the time spent with him fondly, if shamefully on her part, and wishes to see him again. It was largely thanks to her misplaced feelings for him that she realized perhaps she should end her marriage.
Background, history, and RP can be seen here.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Star by Star - Troy Denning
Star Wars: The New Jedi Order book 8
Reread: Nov 2023
Denning said this is one is going to have so much crazy shit in it. And he wasn't lying. New Jedi hunting beasts, voxyn, are on the scene and the young strong Jedi Knights go on a mission to Myrkr to kill the voxyn queen. It's a hard mission and many of them perish. Including Anakin Solo. RIP little Solo, we knew you so briefly. Meanwhile the invasion of Coruscant starts. Traitors try to kidnap Ben Skywalker, but fail thanks to his Uncle Han and Aunt Leia. Lots and lots of people die.
It's an very action packed and tense read, especially the voxyn mission parts. But the fall of Coruscant doesn't lack for action either. The war is going badly for the New Republic, very badly. In fact I would say that this is essentially the death blow for it. Oh sure it lingers for a couple books, but it's really over.
Info: Del Rey; 2001
0 notes
Text
Thorik the Grey
Name: Thorik Thorimsson
Nickname: Thorik the Grey
Age: 24
Sexuality: Straight
Appearance/Faceclaim: Ben Barnes
Personality: Thorik is a good man, if not a bit hot headed and impulsive, something that helps and hurts him. Thorik is a great leader, and is beloved by his people and his warriors but he can often make rash decsions based solely on his emotions, something he had been working on controlling since he was young. But his impulses are often bred from passion and loyalty to his people, which in turns inspires loyalty from them. Despite his hotheadedness and impulsivity, Thorik was raised and trained well to take up his role as earl and wants to be worthy of the weight that now rests on his shoulders. Thorik earned the name, The Grey during the first year or so of his reign as Earl. He was fair and just, but also rather tough, some might say harshly so to a few lowly earls that crossed him. Thorik is respectful of all faiths, but prefers for Christians to keep to themselves and out of his peoples affairs.
Family:
Father: Thorim the Bloodless (Deceased)
Mother: Ingrid the Bold (Deceased)
Sister: Petra
Sister: Alette
History: Thorik and his family originally come from Oslo Norway. Her uncle Fernin still resides in Oslo as powerful Earl Petra’s father, Thorim, the second son came to England to make a life there in the Dane law. Thorim quickly became a prominent earl, and earned his title the Bloodless for he was a powerful negotiator, he was a fair man and would always try to finish conflicts with talk and not go to battle. But when battle was the only way he did not shy away and earned reputation as a great warrior when he was quite young. Until he left for England Thorim was his older brothers general. He married the shield-maiden and Earl in her own right Ingrid when he was 19 and was never with another woman. The two came to the England together and set up their Earldom themselves.
The two had three children, Thorik, Petra and Alette. Thorik was much like his father, but had a more daring side, whereas Thorim was always more calculated and calm. Thorik was a rather crazy child and fathered several children on multiple women. Despite his wildness, Thorik always had a sense of duty and wanting to do right by the people of the earldom he would one day inherit. Thorik is skilled with a sword, and a spear, although he battle he often uses a sword, in hand to hand combat he chooses the spear. He is also very protective of his younger sisters.
The three children all had a good childhood, filled with adventure and safety. Thorik was 14 the first time he followed his father in battle and Petra was 15, having been trained by her mother since she was a small child.
Both Thorim the Bloodness, and Ingrid the Bold perished in a battle against Kjartan. Thorim had driven the brothers from his lands but the battle had cost himself and his wife their lives. After that the Earldom passed to Thorik, and he took up a hunt after Kjartan, killing many of his men and driving the brothers from the shores. But he left it at that and returned to build up his lands. The three siblings know that the brothers still live and when they come to England and made trouble they begin to plan.
Thorik was twenty when his parents were killed and he inherited the earldom. Thorik wields his sword as well, and is known as a fine warrior, one that should not be easily trifled with.
0 notes
Text
the jedi rise again [ original triology au ] chapter 12: family ties
RATING: M
SUMMARY: As the group searches for Luke Jyn and Bodhi share with Leia their experience on finding out they were siblings after Galen Erso adopted Bodhi years ago.
NOTES: I know its been a while, life has gotten in the way in some good and bad ways, including a career transition into becoming a paralegal, so it took me a long time to get this chapter going. I am sending lots of love to people who have been patient and continue to be a fan of my work. Lots of love to you all and I promise you the story will be worth the wait because we are starting to get good
WARNINGS: NONE
EXCERPT: Besides, her eyes kept turning towards Jyn and Bodhi. The two of them were sitting and chatting about the child Jyn was going to bring into this big, beautiful, chaotic galaxy. Leia couldn’t keep up with Bodhi’s exciting chatter about the fact he was going to be an uncle. Leia sighed. The talk about Bodhi being an uncle was the very reason people suggested Leia talk to them about the revelation with Luke.
It made her think about Luke and Ben’s relationship for a moment. Just like Luke and Leia had an instant sibling connection without even knowing that the two of them shared a womb, Luke immediately felt as though he was an uncle figure to Ben. It was a combination of the fact that he always had a soft spot for children, a need to fill the void of his lost family who perished in the destruction of Alderaan, and a longing to have his own children someday. From bringing him gifts from his travels to spending hours hovering over the babe and making funny faces and voices, he loved making Ben smile.
Leia sighed. It was another terrible reminder of what was at risk once she told Luke the truth about his heritage. The only thing she could do is continue to hope that the statement he had said about standing by Leia no matter what in the wake of the revelation that Darth Vader was her father would hold once he learned he was her father too.
1 note
·
View note
Photo
“I am not looking to be permanently offended in life.” says Eric, during his four paragraph angry letter to a national newspaper about a company changing the logo on packets of rice.
#Daily Mail#Uncle Bens#Racism#Rice#Woke#Cheerful kindly-looking grandfatherly sort#Racial stereotyping#Several Uncle Ben types#Elderly people#Termination#Servant#I'm not looking to be permanently offended#No Eric#Perish the thought#Not like these snowflakes you get these days#Not you#You're cool#Calm#Breezy
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
everything changes nothing perishes.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/56213860
by akxshyaaa
He shuffled to the left of the class and sat near a tan-skinned boy, who was very intently colouring on a paper. Peter peered over to look at what he was colouring.
“Is that the Death Star?!” He asked, grinning when the boy looked up at him with a smile.
“Yeah! You watch Star Wars?” The boy asked.
Words: 1071, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 3 of his greatest creation.
Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Uncle Ben Parker (Marvel), Ned Leeds
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Uncle Ben Parker & Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker
Additional Tags: Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Precious Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Precious Ned Leeds, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker Friendship, First Day of School, Father-Son Relationship
read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/56213860
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
This Time
MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME BELOW.
Warnings: Mentions of death, blood and injury.
Peter let her fall once. Not again. Not this time.
Word Count - 700+
this time.
Peter caught her this time. Not his MJ. Not his Gwen, but he caught her.
The feeling that flashed over him when he saw Peter jump off the scaffolding, hand outstretched towards Michelle as she descended down, down, down—it was a feeling he knew well.
Back at the clock tower those years ago, watching her fall, her eyes glassy, her hand reaching out for his and her faith in him the same it had always been; but he’d been one second too late.
He’d missed her. He’d caught her too late. He’d let her fall.
The feeling he had on the Statue of Liberty, seeing it play out again—
He wouldn’t let it happen again. He wouldn’t let universes repeat themselves. Not after the kid had just lost his aunt, not after he’d been told with great power, comes great responsibility. Because Peter knew exactly how it felt.
It stung, worse than a swim in the middle of the blisteringly cold Atlantic.
It burned, hotter than running into a burning building just to discover that whoever inside had already perished.
The sound of Gwen’s skull cracking still haunted Peter’s dreams. Sometimes, things in his daily life sounded like it, making him jump out of his skin and relive the moment again and again, as if he was still living it.
In a way, he was. He visited her grave daily. Told her about his day. Prayed that she was happy and safe wherever she was now. He knew she would never be angry at him; she’d never blame him for what happened to her. She’d raced into the battlefield alongside him knowing the consequences.
But that didn’t stop Peter feeling an insurmountable type of grief and guilt and hatred for himself. It ate up his insides. It destroyed his lungs daily, smashing him into a mulch of wracking and gut-wrenching sobs in the middle of the night, sometimes.
That’s why he caught her, this time.
He caught her for his counterpart Spider-Man. He caught her because Peter got side-tracked by a different version of the same monster that made Gwen fall.
He caught her to prove to himself that he could have before.
Michelle kept her grip tight around his shoulders, her legs dangling in his arms. Peter smiled at her, his eyes welling suddenly and abruptly as emotions bombarded into his heart. When he looked into Michelle’s eyes, he saw his Gwen.
“Are you okay?” he let out, spluttering over his words slightly. A single tear dropped from his eye.
Michelle looked at him with a mixture of relief and concern. She nodded quickly, her body still in shock. “Yeah,” she breathed out, before shuffling in his arms slightly. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Peter’s heart almost burst. He nodded clumsily, trying to ignore the fact that he was fully crying now. His tears dropped to the floor in a melody that was soft and forgiving. “Yeah,” he croaked out, his throat dry and closing rapidly.
It was a moment that he’d never expected to have again. It was a moment that, perhaps, he’d played out in his head every day since Gwen had fallen.
He’d relived it, except he’d catch her instead and he’d hold her in his arms and that would be that. They moved to England, they lived together, they got married, they had kids—
But that wasn’t real.
It never would be.
Not in his universe.
When Peter returned home, he took his daily walk up to Gwen’s grave. It felt different. Instead of the incessant thoughts, beneath the time and the internal healing, of hatred and anger at himself for what he’d done—it was peaceful.
There was some comfort to be found in knowing that there were multiple universes with multiple Spider-Men; multiple Peter Parker’s; all with their own Aunt May and Uncle Ben; with their own MJ’s and Gwen’s.
It made Peter think about how, somewhere out there, beyond a dimension that he couldn’t traverse, there was a Peter and a Gwen who were happy. He’d caught her. They moved to England. They lived together. They got married. They had kids.
And that made him exceptionally happy.
This was something new he could hold onto.
And by gods, meeting himself from two different universes had been a wild and exciting ride. Like he’d said to them, he’d always wanted brothers—
He had them, now.
#peter parker x gwen stacy#peter parker#andrew garfield spiderman#the amazing spiderman#spiderman no way home#spoilers#emotional#hurt and comfort#angst and fluff#andrew garfield#zendaya#one shot#ff#fanfiction#mcu#marvel#lightyaers
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Luke was pretty sure most people thought he was naive, but he wasn’t born yesterday. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru refused to tell him about his father, but he’d figured it out years ago. They weren’t exactly subtle.
Old Ben Kenobi had been around Luke’s entire life. Uncle Owen never let him get close, but he always seemed to be there, hanging around the edges of Luke’s existence. Luke could always tell when he was near—a protective, familiar presence with a warmth that rivaled Tatooine’s twin suns.
Really, Luke didn’t know who they thought they were fooling. It was obvious that Ben was his father.
Uncle Owen got the same pinched expression when Old Ben was mentioned as he did when talking about Luke’s father. That had been Luke’s first hint. The sad, nostalgic looks Ben gave him whenever they passed each other in town were another clue. What really cemented the idea in his mind, though, was the pull Luke felt toward the other man. It was as if they were connected through the fabric of the universe itself.
Luke didn’t blame Ben for not raising him. He figured the man didn’t think himself capable, maybe blamed himself for his partner’s death. Survivor’s guilt wasn’t uncommon on Tatooine. Luke just wished he could talk to Ben about his other father. One of the only things he knew about him was his name—Anakin Skywalker.
For the first nineteen years of Luke’s life, though, Ben was incredibly elusive. His presence was always relegated to the outskirts of Luke’s consciousness, and the man himself was even more evasive. Luke didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Uncle Owen kept him busy with schoolwork, and later with repairs and the harvest.
It was only the arrival of two droids and the subsequent destruction of his home and deaths of his aunt and uncle that brought his father into his life. Luke had gone with him willingly, clinging desperately to the only family that he had left. It didn’t matter that the man hadn’t told him he was his father yet—Luke knew that would take time. He was just glad to hear about Anakin Skywalker for once, to know that his fathers were heroes, and to have the chance to learn from one of them.
When the monster Darth Vader took his second father from him (as if one wasn’t enough!) Luke felt the vague stirrings of true hatred for the first time in his life. It was only Ben’s voice, echoing somewhere in his mind and telling him to run, that brought him out of his anger.
The years passed by in a blur after that. Suddenly Luke was important, a hero, a rebel. It was just as he’d always dreamed—and nothing at all like he’d imagined. He was often too exhausted to think about anything other than his current mission. Any quiet moments were to be cherished. When he could, though, he thought about his fathers. He wondered whether they would be proud.
Seeing Ben on Hoth was a surprise, although Luke was half sure he was hallucinating. He went to Dagobah anyway, trusting his instincts and his father. Yoda was another surprise, and training was difficult, but he finally felt as if he was following in his fathers’ footsteps. He would be a Jedi, just like them.
Then Bespin happened, and suddenly Luke was hanging over an empty abyss, his right hand and father’s lightsaber gone, Darth Vader looming over him. That horrible breathing eclipsed any thought.
“Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father,” the monstrosity was saying. Luke forced himself to focus.
“He told me enough! He told me you killed him,” he spat.
“No. I am your father,” Vader said.
Luke blinked. What? But that would mean… Luke’s rage flared anew as the implications hit him. “You killed your husband?” He shouted. “How could you?”
Vader reeled back. “What? No. I—What?”
“Don’t deny it! I saw you. You killed Ben! And now you’re saying you were married to him? Were you married to Anakin too, when you killed him?” Luke was on a roll. “How could you kill your husbands? No wonder Ben couldn’t raise me!”
“I did not—We were not—What?” Vader spluttered. Luke glared incredulously.
“You weren’t even married?”
For all that he was wearing a mask, Vader looked extremely lost. It was clear that this was not how he’d imagined the conversation going. “I—But I’m your father,” he said, and it sounded petulant even through the vocoder.
Luke’s scowl deepened. “Well I hate to break it to you, but I already had two dads, and you killed them.”
“No,” Vader said, although now he didn’t sound so sure.
“What do you mean, no? I saw you!”
Vader shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You will join me, my son,” he insisted.
Luke scoffed. “I will never join you.”
“You will join me, or perish,” Vader said. He raised his lightsaber.
Luke glanced behind him. That was a long way down. There might be something to catch himself on.
“I don’t think so,” he said, and let go, just as Vader lunged. The suited man’s hand passed through thin air as Luke fell.
The Force seized violently around him. That’s odd, Luke thought, and promptly passed out.
-
Obi-Wan peered down at the young man passed out on the ground in front of him. Beside him, he could tell Anakin was doing the same.
“Where did he come from?” Anakin muttered, poking the body with a stick. Obi-Wan gave him a disapproving look.
“Don’t do that,” he said, snatching the stick as Anakin went to poke the man again. His former Padawan huffed indignantly, opening his mouth to make a no doubt snappy remark, only to be interrupted by a groan by their feet.
Below them, the man who fell from the sky groaned again, his face twisted in pain. Upon a closer look, Obi-Wan realized that he was cradling his right arm to his chest. His right hand was gone.
“Master,” Anakin said, his voice suddenly cautious. “That wound…It looks like…”
Obi-Wan nodded. He’d thought the same. But how had this stranger lost a hand to a lightsaber?
“We should get him to a medic,” he said. Anakin grunted in agreement, lifting the stranger easily. Obi-Wan frowned at the pair. Seeing them together…something itched at the back of his mind.
“He looks like you,” Obi-Wan mused.
Anakin raised an eyebrow. “Is it the hand?”
Obi-Wan snorted. “Come on, I’ll comm Kix.”
Neither of the Jedi noticed a familiar hilt of a lightsaber, protruding from the underbrush a few feet away.
#soooo i wrote this a while ago based on one of willow's posts#and then forgot about it#and then found it again when i was looking through my wips#so here enjoy#luke skywalker#obi-wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#darth vader#mini fic
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Funny Business
Warnings: Angst, fluff, language
Pairings: Gabriel x Winchester!Reader
Characters: Gabriel, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Rowena, Jack (mentioned only)
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: You’re Dean’s daughter, and you’re all getting ready to go to apocalypse world to rescue Jack, your best friend. When Gabriel sees that you’re upset about Jack’s absence, he tries to cheer you up and confesses that he likes you.
Requested by @daisyelll
You missed your best friend.
It felt like Jack had been in apocalypse world for centuries. Of course you missed you grandmother, Mary, but you weren't really that close with her.
Yeah, Dean Winchester was you father. He had you at a young age, 22, to be exact. Your 'mother,' wasn't really ready to be a mom yet, so she had given you to Dean in hopes he would be a good father to you. And he was.
Dean didn't want you to grow up the way he did, so he never took you traveling. Most of the times, you would stay at Bobby's house, but your dad called to check in every night and to say 'I love you,' before you would fall asleep. Whenever he was in between hunts, he would always come see you and do a 'Daddy-daughter date,' where he would take you to the movies and go out to eat.
When Sam was stuck in the Cage with Lucifer, Dean came and got you, taking you to live with him, Lisa and Ben. You loved your little dysfunctional family. Lisa was a good female influence in your life, seeing as how your own walked out on you. That's why you were devastated when Castiel wiped Ben and Lisa's memories of the Winchester's.
But that all happened when you were a kid. Now, your 21, and desperately trying to find a way to bring your best friend back from apocalypse world.
You had never connected with someone like you connected with Jack. He was like your brother, and you'd kill to protect him.
"Where is the Witchy Winchester?" A Scottish voice filled the air. That was a nickname that Rowena gave you. A few years ago, you had dabbled a bit in magic, and ever since, she had been adamant on training you.
"Rowena!" You said happily, hugging the woman.
"Y/n Winchester." She smiled as she looked at you with sad eyes. "How are you, deary?"
"I'm powering through." You assured her. "I'm just ready to get my family home." Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"We'll get them back, sweetheart." He kissed the top of your head.
"It would be a lot faster if this dumbass, impotent archangel would grow a pair and lend some grace!" You growled loudly enough for Gabriel to hear from wherever he was in the bunker.
"Oh whatever, Baby Winchester! You try being tortured by a Prince of Hell and see how you feel." He called back.
"I was." You deadpanned. "And do you see me acting like a little bitch? No." Sam and Dean snickered at your comment.
"Alrighty then," Rowena said before your argument could continue. "Let's get started." She set down a large bowl on the table, along with a bunch of other ingredients. "Fruit from the tree of life." You began gathering your things, such as clothes, non perishable foods, water, and of course, weapons. You and your father had argued earlier on in the day about you joining them to go to apocalypse world, which ended in a screaming match that you won. You definitely got your temper from you father. "Blood of a most holy man." Sam tossed over a pack of glow sticks that you put in the bag. "And ah. . ." Rowena reached up and plucked a hair out of Dean's head.
"Ow!" He complained, rubbing the back of his head. You rolled your eyes as you continued to pack.
"Something from the other side." Rowena finished, adding his hair to the mix.
"Hey. How’s Gabriel." Sam asked when Cas entered the room.
"He said he needed a minute alone." He said, his voice a low rumble. "He wanted to extract his grace by himself. In private." You shivered at what the Angel told you. You did not want to imagine what he was doing to extract his grace. Your uncle and father had the same disturbed look on their face as you did. "So I left him alone in Dean’s room."
You bursted out laughing, your eyes crinkling at the edges like your dad's did. "You what? No." Dean seemed very grossed out at the thought of what Gabriel was doing in his room.
"I hate to interrupt, but I can’t be the only one to noticed the rather glaring hole in this plan." No one seemed to pay attention to the witch as you continued packing up for the trip. "We open up the rift, it gives us a day to find and save your Mom and the boy. And it’s a very big world over there, and you’re not even sure where they are, so. . . "
"She's right." Cas spoke up. "The clock may run out on us."
"Yeah. It might." Sam seemed indifferent and unconcerned. You couldn't help but feel the same way. All you wanted was your family back together. You tucked your loaded gun into the waistband of your jeans, covering it with your flannel shirt.
"Yeah, well we don’t have any better ideas." Dean shrugged.
"Mm, that’s inspirational."
"Here it is!" Gabriel exclaimed, walking in with a very dim looking vial of his grace. " The final ingredient - a fresh serving of archangel grace."
You raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. "That's pathetic." You announced, earning a snort from Rowena. "Dude, I could give more 'grace' than that, and I'm a human. You could do better." Gabriel scoffed at your words.
"That is the jet fuel of divine emissions." He proclaimed. You gave a little gag, as Dean and Sam gave him disgusted looks. "It’ll be more than enough to get the job done."
You, Rowena and Cas gave each other skeptical looks. You all knew that there was no way that was going to work. You shook your head as Rowena added more ingredients to the spell. You strapped two katana's on your back, adjusting them so they fit comfortably.
"Ya know, we won't judge you if you chose to sit this one out, kiddo." Your dad tried to convince you to stay back once more.
"Dad." You whispered, linking your hand with his. "I want to go. You're my family, and we don't leave family behind. Never." Dean gave you a small smile as he squeezed your hand. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Gabriel was watching you with curious eyes.
Rowena called you over to her, needing assistance with casting the spell. It was a rather powerful one, meaning it might need two witches instead of one. "Ready, deary?" You nodded.
"Koth Munto Nuntox." You both bellowed, motioning your hands towards the place where the rift was supposed to open. It gleamed orange, but you could tell the light was fading. There was no way anyone was going through that rift.
"Okay, everyone ready?" Cas asked the group.
"Yeah, all right." Sam nodded.
"Let’s do this." Dean agreed.
"Let's get our family back."
As you go to step through the rift, just like you expected, it began to fizzle and lean to the side. You all tilted along with it.
"Okay, that was very, very fast." You noted. The group seemed to agree with you.
"One could even say premature." Rowena remarked, making you laugh. Gabriel seemed to be flustered by you laughing at Rowena's joke.
"Um. . . I thought it would be enough." Gabriel coughed.
"All right, great. What do we do now?"
"I think we all know what to do." You said grimly. Rowena sent you and Sam a terrified look. You gripped her hand to give her reassurance. "I don't like this as much as the next person, but we need an Archangels grace. And it seems there's only one left on this god forsaken world that can actually provide his grace."
"No." Sam shook his head.
"We need to get Lucifer."
.
. .
. . .
You had decided to stay back while Sam, Dean, and Cas went to get Lucifer. Gabriel had already offered his assistance before coming back to the bunker. You were holed up in the library, starting at old pictures and videos on your phone. All of them were of you and Jack.
You giggled as you watched a video of Jack trying ice cream for the first time. "Ah!" He exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Is it supposed to hurt? Is this some kind of torture that humans use on each other?"
The video shook as you began to laugh. "No, silly. You just ate it too fast. It's actually really good if you slow down and savor it!"
You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you scrolled through pictures of the two of you. He was your best friend. Your brother. And it hurt like hell to be so close to getting him, but still not quite there.
"Hey, Baby Winchester!" Gabriel said happily, walking into the room. "Guess who just captured Lucif-" He cut himself off as he saw the state you were in.
You quickly wiped away your tears, exiting out of the video app on your phone. "What do you want, Gabriel?" You sniffed.
"Are you okay?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned, which shocked you. The Archangel never cared about anyone but himself.
"I-I'm fine." You nodded.
He frowned as he approached you, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. "Hey, what's with the waterworks?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. If you spoke, you were sure to sob. You calmed yourself before you began to speak. "I miss Jack." You confessed. "He could always make me laugh when I needed to. And right now, I really need to laugh." Your voice broke as you talked.
Gabriel's frown deepened. He knew you to be this strong warrior, this tough young woman who feared nothing and no one. And to see you so broken hurt him. He stood up, snapping his fingers as he did so. I Wanna Dance With Somebody began to play.
"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.
"Yes, really. Now get your ass off that chair and come dance with me. You know, many women would kill to be in your position." You glared at him, feeling skeptical. It was known that Gabriel was a huge flirt. Hell, not even two hours earlier, he was flirting with Rowena, who quickly shot him down, clearly not interested.
"If you try anything, I'll kill you faster than you can say uh-oh." Gabriel held his hands up in surrender, silently promising that he wasn't going to pull any funny business. You slowly got up off the couch and walked towards him. He extended his hand, which you hesitantly took. Gabriel spun you around, making you gasp in surprise.
"I'm quite the dancer, if you didn't know." He smirked. You still weren't in the mood to put up with his bull shit. "I'm going to make you laugh, if it's the last think I do." He promised.
"Why do you care so much if I'm unhappy. You barely know me." You mumbled as Gabriel led you around to room.
"Because, from how little I do know about you, I know that seeing you cry is a rarity. You're this badass warrior goddess that supposedly doesn't have any emotion." You were about to question him when Gabriel interrupted you. "You're a legend in the Supernatural World." He explained.
"Yeah, for being Dean Winchester's daughter." You said bitterly.
"Ah, now why is that such a bad thing?"
"Because I want to be known for the people that I've saved and the good that I do. Not for just being my dad's daughter."
"Well, trust me, sweetheart, that's not all you're known for." You looked up at Gabriel as he rocked you back and forth to the music. He clearly wasn't pleased with the fact that you were still frowning, so he picked you up off the ground and twirled you around.
You gave a giggle of excitement as he did so, earning a proud grin from Gabriel. He began hopping around the room, making you laugh harder. "There's that beautiful laugh."
"Beautiful." You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."
"Why do you find it so hard to believe that someone would use that word to describe you?"
You shrugged. "Because no one thinks of me that way."
"Now, that's not true. I'm sure many, many men and women would love to be with you." Gabriel insisted, which made you blush.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked.
"Well, if I told you, I think there would be a multitude of people trying to murder me." He confessed.
You gave him a questioning look, not realizing what he was trying to tell you.
"Jeez, you Winchester's are so oblivious. I like you, Y/n. But I know if I acted on anything, you're family would murder me in a heartbeat."
You looked at him for a moment before grabbing his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. It took him a moment to kiss you back, but when he did, you were breathless. "Then we don't tell anyone. Not yet at least."
"Ooh, a secret love. I like that sound of that, Winchester." He murmured as he kissed you again.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
I can promise there will be a part two, hehe.
#dean winchester daughter#gabriel imagine#gabriel x winchester reader#gabriel x reader#gabriel x yn#gabriel x y/n#supernatual#supernatural imagine#supernatural fluff#supernatural x winchester!reader#sam winchester imagine#castiel imagine#jack imagine#jack kline#gabriel#dean winchester#sam winchester#rowena mcleod#rowena
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
@unexceptional made my spider-sense tingle: 💧
Send 💧⁈ to find my muse alone and in tears!
Add + Reverse for my muse to find yours! Multimuse blogs, please specify muse!
he kept his emotions under lock and key, for the most part. with age came the ability to filter them out, at least to the best of his ability. but there were some days that the filter just didn’t work. what started as a trip down memory lane with becky, quickly turned sour. thinking how far they’d come together. how he’d been annoyed with her at first, how she threw a lamp at him when they first met. and how they slowly kindled a relationship and now? now he was head over heels in love with her. to the point where no thought, even one that was only half baked or serious didn’t include her right next to him. truth be told, the thought of growing old and being with someone wasn’t something he thought was even in his future until she came into it. until then, the only possible outcome he could honestly see was one of him perishing while protecting others. how was she able to have such an impact on his life? and did she have such an impact on everyone else, or did the universe finally decide he had earned some happiness for once?
the well of emotions that was stirring wasn’t one of just one ingredient. his uncle flashed before him, wishing how just once he could hear his voice and see his eyes light up when meeting her. I know he would love you. he told her before. but just once, it would have been great for ben to know that someone would come along and change his life so much. the fact that may could be such a firecracker when she wanted to be, and it wasn’t a secret that she adored becky. oh, how ben would’ve just loved her. and he was given a chance at happiness now, and he promised himself that he wasn’t going to squander it. he wouldn’t let his relationship with her fall victim to his own shortcomings, or the ole parker luck that seemed to follow him around like a cloud.
turning towards her when he heard her steps, she instantly brought a smile to his face. using the back of his thumb to wipe some of the tears that ran away from his eyes. “ hey,” he muttered, breathing out a chuckle through his nose. “ you’re gonna think I’m the biggest sap. but uh--well--I was just thinking about you. and how lucky I am. how much ben would’ve loved you. probably doesn’t do well for my tough new yorker reputation, but...I can’t help it.”
#unexceptional#v: the road so far#apparently keeping things short when it comes to these two is not an option fjaskljfs
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lasrsapp
LaSRS Login
wintermint-icons
Manga and Anime Icons
twuan102285
Untitled
mainebunkbeds1
Maine Bunk Beds