𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, ;; Spider-man

𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, ;; spider-man

Pairing ;; post-nwh!Spider-Man x gn!Reader

Summary: Spider-Man wanted to go for a swing, he didn't expect his hero to ask him for one though.

Warnings: established relationship lol. memory loss (bcuz of dr. strange), angst w/ fluff probs? i want my fics to be surprising so... nothing too nsfw or explicit though !!

Word Count: 3k

A/N: my first ever fic on this app. the title has nothing to do with the story. english isn't my first language so i BEG of you to show some sympathy for me. they're an avatar for the goddess Till (basically a goddess OC), inspired by Moon-Knight. throwback to my august 2022 author self who was going through it -- this sparked my idea for this fic, otherwise, i was just bored (yes, i do have homework, what's it to you?)

𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, ;; Spider-man
𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, ;; Spider-man

The old smell of rotten rust hit your nose as you sat on a hard edge of a New York building, one leg swinging mindlessly. You stretched before you yawned, dawning over the fact that there might not actually be a gang of bandits in this part of Manhattan – post-bright winter, the holiday spirits dissipating. 

These nights, you would wait with your suit, in the cold, possibly walking around or stretching, or jumping from building to building for an adrenaline rush, as well as in need of warm air. Preferring solitude over crimes, you don’t know the exact reason you’re out almost every night. But you do know that air outside, crisp and on-going, is much better than air inside of cranky apartments. 

As your chest falls, a sound from behind jolts your back forward, your mask covering your face. Before you turned around with a weapon in hand. 

“Hi,” You heard the Spider say. “You can’t sleep too?” He said from underneath his mask, moving forward as he reached the edge of the building carefully, inching beside your alert figure. He sighed, the sound of his harsh breathing under his mask and the rise of his chest as it struggled to reach for air. 

This could be another reason that you were up every night. Expecting someone to accompany you. Though, you were growing a certain feeling that this isn’t just the case.

Under your very own mask, you breathed deeply, thankful it wasn’t another landlord. “I prefer solitude over… honeymoon noises,” You stated hesitantly, though your voice was uninterested in the business that the Spider had to say. 

“That too,” He says, still struggling to breath, but managing to calm himself. “But mostly, you can’t sleep too right?” He asked again. 

You gave in, allowing your body to relax under the new presence. “Something isn’t right.” You say, clutching your hands together, an attempt to halt your fidgeting with whatever was around. “I don’t know what it is, but something is bothering me.” 

A few months ago, you were saving the world, not knowing the exact reason who you were saving it from. But you did anyway, miraculously, with Spider-Man. From his perspective, he appeared as if he didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to pry or nag, so you didn’t. 

In return to that very same conversation, you referred to it as something. 

Spider-Man shifted from his seat, sighing. Pulling his mask above his nose so he can breathe properly, he clicked his tongue, looking down at the streets. He didn’t respond immediately, still in thought of a response, he stifled. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted from it?” He didn’t look at you, quite frankly, he didn’t know how. It would’ve been awkward enough, sitting on top of a building at one in the morning. 

“I don’t know... I mean,” You groaned loudly, unsure of how to word your sentences. The offer he gave is still hanging in the air, unanswered. By your curiosity and the presence of the Spider, you tried to speak. “I want to know.” 

He nodded, scoffing in awareness of how you word your sentences, though he took a mental note of your social skills, smiling softly at his familiar obtained knowledge. “You want to talk about it, then?” From beneath his mask, he eyed you curtly, seeing you nod slowly. “What’s something you want to know?” 

You clicked your tongue, finally looking at the Spider. Trying to look for the something that bothered you so much, trying to remember that something. You scanned his side-view, blurring and bright alongside with the filter of your mask. Goddammit, your suit was such a bother. “I don’t remember what happened a few months ago,” You shook your head as you looked away. “I remember this boy, Peter Parker, he was… smart, awkward, nice, mostly awkward though.” You shook your head, attempting to pinpoint the topic you were giving out. 

Meanwhile, Spider-Man froze at the mere mention of his name, his true name. He did a good job in hiding it apparently, giving you a careful look as you tried to come up with another sentence. Oh boy. 

He could take off his mask and mutter a big ‘surprise!’ before standing up and swinging away. He could say ‘oh well, you were the love of my life, or you weren’t because that’s how unclear we were back then.’ but he held back, sticking to the topic of the mention of his name. 

“This Peter boy,” He cringed, biting the insides of his cheeks to bite back a scowl to himself. “Was… was he important to you?” He said hesitantly, watching as you searched for another sentence. 

Spider-Man was never hesitant, he would be confident in how he forms his fists to throw a punch, confident in the way he would choose his words. He’s passive, sympathetic, and friendly. Peter is silent… smart, awkward, nice, as you described him. 

With four words, you crushed his soul, not only Peter's, but his; The Neighborhood Friendly Spider-Man. “I don’t think so.” Everything stilled, like his heart stopped beating, like his breath hitched in shock. In reality, behind that mask, your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to remember the way Peter’s hands would graze yours when the two of you were paired together in the Science labs. Although, that was the end of it. Nothing crossed the feeling of warmth and connection of high-school in those days. 

You shook your head lightly, away from the thoughts, gazing back at Spider-Man. “What about you? Are you scared?” You asked, unaware of the heavyweight building up in his chest every time you spoke. 

“So scared,” Spider-Man admitted, still trying to comprehend what you just said. You seemed so nonchalant about your answer that he wanted to ask again, so he would, another time maybe. For now, he wanted to accept this, he wanted to accept that you could possibly remember him. Not Spider-Man, him; Peter Parker. He meant to say ‘I’m scared for you’. 

He meant to say that you mattered to him. That you weren’t a partner in his heroistic acts, or some ‘random hero’ (as Jonah Jameson calls you). You were you. Peter loves you underneath the mask and above it. In and out. Peter loves you and your insanely high morality. 

He expected you not pry further but you spoke with a voice that reminded him he existed. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted from it?” You quoted him, doing your best to be comforting as the superhero just admitted that he was so scared. 

Spider-Man scoffed, standing up and pulling down his mask, he stood cautiously at the edge of the building. Thor, why does everything have to be so difficult? “I want to be distracted from it,” And with that, he jumped down. Swinging to the next building in a second, he landed on his foot, looking back at you as he signalled you to come along. 

You smiled, standing up before you heard a voice. He’s very pushy, y’know. The Goddess, Till, appeared beside you, eyeing Spider-Man incredulously. Her long, braided hair trailed behind her back as loud footsteps thud, unheard by normal humans, but seen by you, were walking back towards the door of the rooftop. You need rest, child. She declared. 

You look back, following your Goddess with your eyes. “Oh Till, you can’t blame the poor hero, he’s been through shit,” You felt chills go down your spine as she looked back one last time. You look back at the Spider, he was ready to swing to another building, you gave him a thumbs up before looking back lazily, your mask forging down on its own. “Please? I’ll get some rest when I’m done distracting him, I promise.” You confirmed with a sure nod, though Till was not convinced. 

Your job as my avatar is to protect people from harm, not help them from their wrecked mental state. She raised her head high. You will not see him tomorrow unless you rest later, understood? She disappeared before your answer was decided. You were grateful anyway. 

Your mask forged back on its own, as you felt your body swiftly transport to the building that Spider-Man was standing on. A blur of your own body as you recognized the bright blue and red suit. Although, he wasn’t here. 

Another blur from your vision, a sudden disconnection from your body, as you teleported to another building, a tense sense of fragileness building up in the pit of your abdomen. “There we go!” Spider-Man’s voice trailed with excitement. But all you could focus on was the dizziness and spinning of the room. 

“Wait, hold on—!” You turned around before your mask could forge down on its own as you breathed in and coughed out immediately. A huge lump in your throat built up. “Don’t look,” You pleaded. “Please.” 

Spider-Man didn’t know how to respond other than to nod hesitantly and turn around, respecting your privacy as much as he really wanted to see you. He pulled up his mask too, above his nose, exposing his nose to the fresh air. He breathed in deeply, chest heaving up and down. 

Behind him, the coughing ceased and footsteps approached him.

“I thought teleportation was easy,” Spider-Man wondered aloud, looking back at you, licking his chapped lips. Though the tension and uneasiness was brought up in the air, a price of most superheroes. He knew their night would come to an end any time soon. Peter had a speech he needed to finish by Sunday, though he wasn’t quite sure of you. Were you majoring in psychology or in arts? 

A sudden exchange of your reply came to a halt, realisation struck that he wasn’t really paying attention, but instead staring at you. As if looking through your bright, white eyes from his mask. “I’m going to puke all over you if you don’t stop that,” You blurted out, annoyance present and on-going by the sound of your voice and the look of your stance; arms crossed together. 

“There they are,” Spider-Man scoffed, a half-toothy grin slowly appearing on his face. “What were you saying again, partner?” He teased lightly. You brought your head up high, pointing to the massive crane. He slowly followed your gaze, as he locked eyes with the familiar, abandoned crane carving a shadow in the distance. 

Oh. 

You gulped, as Spider-Man brought his mask down again, ready to swing from the next building. Grabbing his wrist, a familiar warmth started centering your heart, making your eyes glow – if not, much brighter than it was before. Fuck this mask, you thought. “Could you swing us there?” You inquired, bringing your head down. “It’s alright if you can’t… since, y’know, I might be a bit heavy—” 

Your sentence was cut short with a sudden hand on your waist and a sure nod. There. Bringing your skin a double sense of awareness from underneath your suit, though it disappeared as Spider-Man brought it down again. Somehow, it made you frown. “Agh— I’m sorry! I mean, yes! Of course, I’d swing you there, I just— Can I hold you? I’m sorry for not asking earlier and— and—” 

You shook your head in amusement, watching as he struggled to put his thoughts into words now. “You dumbass, just do it, I don’t want to puke again.” You said, though you added; “It’s alright, really.” You nodded in reassurance, as he held you around the waist, again, this time he brought you closer to his chest. 

“No, no,” His hands slid down the back of your thigh, bringing it up his waist. “Here,” Spider-Man corrected, as he held your wrist in his hands, bringing it up to his shoulders. “There,” He said proudly, you could feel a small tug from behind his mask. You didn’t know what he looked like beneath it, though curious, you noticed the tension hanging in the air, diminishing as soon as the hero looked away. “Hold on tight, alright?” He stated cockily, quirking his hand away from you, expecting you to hold on. 

With that, the mix of a falling sensation and adrenaline rush washed over you. Mostly in the fear of falling off, you held unto the Spider for dear life. Behind your mask, you bit back a scream. You wanted to look back, though unable to, you were unable to do so due to the speed that Spider-Man was swinging. 

The wind forced your eyes shut, creasing your eyebrows together. There isn’t a word that described the constant falling and rising of excitement and fear that reappeared and disappeared while swinging. But the harsh wind that stayed present outlined the experience enough as it is. 

Then it ceased, your whole world was spinning now that both of your legs were on firm metal ground. Spider pushed your back against the tower peak, to keep you steady. He laughed scruffily. “You liked that?” He says, positioning his mask above his nose. 

You couldn’t respond due to the heightened feeling of warmth against your chest and his. You could hear him breathing, feel him. You huffed, feeling ants rise above your cheeks, tackling the cold. 

He realised the scene, pushing himself from you but never leaving his warm hands from your shoulders, keeping you steady. “Oh- oh, I’m sorry.” A light form of blush appeared on his cheeks, thankfully, a smile from you broke the tension. 

“I liked it,” You said, looking down. Shaking your head, your bright, white eyes from your mask. “I loved it.” You beamed, a wide smile forming. It’s been a while since you’ve felt pushed over the edge in exciting adventures, just as the type of adventure you were pushed into when Iron Man was still around. 

Looking back, you were much carefree, a lot more secretive, a lot simpler to hunt too, but you never took it as a problem. You were protected by yourself, by Spider-Man, somehow. 

You never forgot the measly science facts he threw at you. And the Peter Parker student that you shared Science classes with and table seats, along with his good friend, Ned Leeds. 

Now it was all a blip of time. Something that you’d joke about with someone like Spider-Man. Though, you couldn’t. Unbearably, the ‘situations’ you both went through, it was too severe to even heal. Who would heal them? A seed bearer couldn’t possibly heal their souls. Too fragile, even to a tangible sense. 

“Sit down, you’ll fall.” Spider-Man spoke, patting down a spot next to him. He was already sitting on the rail of the crane, legs swinging. When he didn’t hear your footsteps, he looked back, a silence of confusion and comfort fused together. 

It was until a burning question slipped from your tongue. “Did you get distracted?” With this you sat down, not next to him, but at your steady place, the crane’s tower peak, your head was thrown back in exhaustion, the dark hiding you. 

God dammit. Spider-Man and Peter Parker. Those two were never in the same room, or at least, you couldn’t recall it. His voice was nearly as identical as Spider’s, though nice and lifted, a pinch of neshness evident. Spider’s was… confident, matured and hoarse, sure and cocky. 

You wanted to know. 

“I just remembered everything now that you’ve mentioned that,” Spider-Man scoffed. “It’s like I’ve distracted you more than myself.” He teased, recalling the muffled ‘what the fuck’ as he swung from building to building. 

You gulped, bringing your legs to your chest, laying your chin on top of your knees. Mask and suit on, keep in mind. “I can distract you.” You said, burying your face in your knees. You heard the Spider approaching, he inched himself by your side. 

“You can’t just say that while you bury your face,” Spider said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “You have to sound confident.” He said, though, his intention was to tease. He didn’t expect you to try again, this time, with your head high as you gazed towards him. Mask and suit on. 

“I can distract you…” You inched closer, keeping a gap between the two of you. “If you keep your eyes closed.” 

Spider-Man frowned, he wanted to see your face. But for the sake of whatever you were going to do, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious enough for him, he would do it. He nodded sharply, a gulp in response, closing his eyes. “Are you okay with this?” He heard you say and he felt himself nod, as if in a dream. 

With that, the gap between the two heroes was closed. You brought your lips with his, syncing with the feeling of warmth of the physical contact; the way his hands slid down your waist, the small graze of contact you held with his jaw, the way your lips connected, moving in with each other. Accepting the intimate moments of heaved breaths. And somewhere in between, you could feel him smile into the kiss. 

You pulled apart, the both of you out of breath. You were thankful that your hair covered your face, for it was flushed. And you were thankful, it wasn’t as windy. 

Spider-Man was taken aback, he side-eyed you, though pulled his gaze away from you. Surprised and startled (and perhaps, you could describe his heart stopped beating for a moment) that you didn’t have your mask on. He wanted to brush your hair away, pushing them behind your ear, just so he could see your pretty face. Though his self-control was high. 

“So,” You started, the sound of your mask forged up. “Did that distract you?” 

Spider scoffed, breathing in deeply. He looked up at the spinning sky. “The sky or the kiss?” He questioned, unaware and unconcerned about your figure in alert mode. He looked back at you, expecting a teasing answer in response. Though instead, you stood up. A weapon in your hand this time. 

You rolled your eyes, gazing up at the sky. “What the fuck is Marc up to?” 

𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍, ;; Spider-man

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percy making a burnt offering for his mother. clarisse screaming in anguish as percy destroys the only thing her father gave her. annabeth putting on her cap, and saying "a gift from my mom." luke having that hateful lilt in his voice when he said that hermes was his father. chris rodriguez's little "they like the smell of begging." when percy asks about the burnt offerings they have to make for the gods. i am unwell.


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1 year ago

more domestic!din because im a slut for domesticity

𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; din djarin

Pairing; Din Djarin x gn!Reader

outline —; Peaceful times with Din Djarin were rare. You relish it.

word count —; 1.1k

WARNINGS —; none.

tags / themes —; reader and din are married, grogu (sweetly) interrupting a moment.

A/N —; *comes back with a massive stars wars obsession* hey, i write for them now. it's been a stressful couple months and i wanted to get something out for my birthday. this isn't beta-read, i just wanted to write. please be kind, thanks.

𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; Din Djarin
𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; Din Djarin

This galaxy raised warriors, heroes, and peace-keepers. Those who fought in the name of their planet, for the safety of the future, and the love they carry for their family. Those who were victims of war survived… or trained to survive, fight, and endure. 

This galaxy isn’t raised for writers, painters, and performers. Those who coped in whomever’s name, for the sanity of themselves, and possibly for the love they carried for their crafts. Of course, artists don’t only do it for themselves. They create in order to escape; and luckily enough, they don’t press themselves into the cruel hands of the galaxy. Because it isn’t built for them. 

For you, the galaxy seemed to test the waters. Warriors and Artists? Maybe those two weren’t so different, after all. Oh, how history would have written it; when the stars collide, an artist with no place in this galaxy meets a warrior who can’t find a home. Those three long years, what an adventure it has been. 

Din Djarin is a victim of war. Like yourself. There truly is a place for people like you. But whilst Din grew up with the Way, you grew up tracing the sky, seeing shapes in every landscape, and memorising the curve of someone’s face. Often asking yourself questions like; Where does the shadow fall? In which direction does the light come from? If you were simplified, which shapes best describe you? 

Din Djarin is a Mandalorian. Not like yourself. A Mandalorian. A warrior. He trained and connived his way till he stood in this solid home. He grew up hidden, so he stayed that way for a while in his life; often a mystery to the Guild. 

“Din Djarin, do not move.” You warned, tilting your head as the heat of Nevarro’s sun hit your face. The chair, in which you sat, rocked back slightly at your movements. With arms outstretched, thumb against the pencil, you held it feebly upwards, trying to calculate the proportions of the Mandalorian’s body. 

If you could see his face out in the open right now, you would’ve caught on with the fact that your husband — your riduur — was smirking. And decided to tilt his head in the opposite direction for the fun of it. You clicked your tongue in annoyance but a smile adorned your face. “I’ve been in this position for fifteen minutes, ner runi.” Din sighed softly, tapping his ungloved fingers against his forearm. 

“Fifteen minutes more.” You looked at him over the rim of your notebook, sketching away. A light fire went on above your head, face lighting up as the same smile adorned your features. “I’ll entertain you, what’s our son doing?” You asked, raising your notebook down to tilt your head at him again. 

Din chuckled at your demeanour or was it your question? You couldn’t tell, though he answered anyway. “Eating frogs.” 

“Again?” You turned to look at the side to see your son doing so; eating frogs. Entirely, it was your fault for looking away. At the time your eyes left your riduur, Din got up, breaking your focus. “Din!” You laughed as you looked back at him.

Your Mandalorian called your name with the same energy. His next words were spoken in a gentle manner, enough to capture your attention. “I’m tired,” He merely said, extending his hand to you. “Let’s be tired together.” 

You let a relieved breath. Has it always been there? You weren’t sure, though, at this moment, you let it go. You released it when settling your supplies down the chair in which you sat. You released it when you found yourself melting into Din’s hands. 

With the armour off, the world is all but noisy. The only sound prominent are frogs croaking and the gentle breeze of Nevarro’s ambience. He pulled you into his chest and laid his back against the frame of the metal door. 

Music. You could hear music, with your cheeks pressed against the warmth of his chest, and with his arms wrapped around you (and yours around Din’s waist). The world stopped, for a few moments it stopped, and you breathed. Inhale and exhale. The exhaustion left your body through that breath, and you could feel that Din breathed too. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. You could hear his gentle heart, if you listen close enough, you could practically hear his soul. What would it sound like? 

Move. Your body screamed to move, but a part of you wanted to stay like this forever. Though, the feeling caved into you, forcing your head to look at your husband’s visor. Your chin rested on his chest as you asked warily. “Can I kiss you?” 

Modulate. The Mandolorian’s helmet modulated his voice, if he answered in a chuckle, the other might receive it the wrong way. He didn’t want to move. The embrace held a significant peace, one that physically pained him when he moved a muscle. But Din didn’t speak with his brain at the moment, so he removed his helmet, and the beskar fell onto the floor beside them. 

They were in the middle of nowhere, what would you say? — All is well. — That sentence proved its point when Din held your cheeks beneath his hands, and his lips were on yours. He could feel you kiss back, he could feel your cheeks against his, he could feel the lazy smile that tugged your lips. Truly, Din wanted to open his eyes, to get a better look of you without his visor, yet somehow, he couldn’t. 

Din is tired. So tired. His shoulder gave in and melted between your arms; he didn’t know how it got there; your elbows above his shoulder, as your fingers explored his hair. But Din didn’t care, he just melted into your kiss, laughing, nearly crying over the unexpected bliss and peacefulness the day had to offer. 

His desires of staying like this with you continued to grow within each second— 

“Patu!” And then, the moment was sweetly broken. 

Your lips disconnected with a sound, pulling away the moment the sound was in ear-shot. Din’s eyes landed first on the green baby, doe eyed, ears high, and head tilted innocently. 

You saw him slurp a frog. “Grogu,” A waning smile reached your son’s lips when his name was mentioned, without warning, he jumped into your arms. Thankfully, you caught him. “That’s not nice of you. What if the frogs had parents?” You teased. 

Din chuckled beside you, kissing your temple lightly, before opening the door. “Let’s head inside.” He said while bending to get his fallen helmet. The gesture, so simple, caught you off guard. A soft, green hand held the base of your cheek and Grogu joyfully yelled with ‘‘Iek!’

Stepping inside, you looked around, almost nostalgically. This is your home. Reminded by Grogu and Din’s presence, a smile painted your lips. They are your home. “I’ll kiss you once more when he’s asleep.” He muttered before taking Grogu from your grip. 

Maybe there is a place for artists in this galaxy.

𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; Din Djarin

TRANSLATION(S);

riduur; spouse, husband, wife ner runi; my soul (*ner; my) (*runi; soul)

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1 year ago
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2 years ago

𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; tony stark

pairing ; father figure!Tony Stark x adopted!gn!Reader platonic / mentions ; bucky barnes, wanda maximoff, natasha romanova, harold "happy" hogan, pepper potts

outline —; Happy is ten minutes late. Tony is freaking out. And you are here, munching on a burger, lost somewhere in Midtown Manhattan. 

word count —; 1.8k

WARNINGS —; mention of HYDRA

tags / themes —; reader forgets their birthday, father-child complications, pepper being a mom, happy being... happy,

A/N —; finally beta-read!! this is just so... self-indulgent, it was my birthday a few days ago and i wanted to fill the pit in my stomach w/ some more surprises!!

𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; Tony Stark
𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; Tony Stark

Midtown Manhattan is a maze to you. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to walk. You didn’t get to choose to walk. And Happy knew that. 

He was about… ten minutes late, you’ve stood in the same spot for ten minutes. Ten. Minutes. It’s fun and all. Until, you had the brilliant idea to walk around the block of your school, ultimately getting lost between the local shops and roads of the large, loud city. 

Gazing up, you could see the lovely “Stark” brandished unto the Avengers Tower. A medal, a hope to those who looked upon it. Your eyes landed on a small restaurant, two huge windows on either side, and a strained glass door in the middle. Its contrast to the colours of the buildings that’s surrounding it; yellows instead of blue, reds instead of grey. 

Plus, not a single soul. Your lips curled into a smile. 

Perfect, it looks like someone vomited rainbows. You concluded to yourself before crossing the road. Your fingers curled around the metal handle, pushing it open. With hands clinging on to the backpack hanging from your shoulder, you smiled at the woman behind the counter. Though, you felt the presence of a schoolboy with a bright blue flannel, sitting in the corner; burger, fries, and soda in front of him, his main focus was on his phone. 

Turning away, you let the soft smell of burgers fill your senses. 

Eventually, you found a spot beside the window, looking outside a bit before the woman from behind the counter came over to pick your order. “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” You purse your lips to silently point at the boy. 

“Burger, curly fries, and soda.” The woman repeated, she made eye contact with you, then smiled. “Anything else?” 

“Uh, no soda and ketchup please.” You grimaced, fidgeting with your hands underneath the table, averting your gaze outside. 

She tilted her head. “Just water?” 

You nodded and whispered as if she could hear you, “Yes.” 

The woman simply nodded and disappeared behind the counter. And you heaved a sigh, a very quiet sigh, as to not disrupt anyone’s peace in the quiet restaurant. The boy from across the room settled his phone down, looked at the burger, then at you. He waved shyly. And you mimicked the action, despite not entirely understanding his point of social cue. 

You chose to shift your gaze to the clear, glass window. Watching the people walk by and the cars speeding through the road. The more you count the amount of people passing by, the more you understood Stark, he cared for these people. The heavy exterior of his iron suit may not tell much, and even though he doesn’t physically have a heart. He does care. 

The smell of your order reached your nose, making you turn back and smile. You paid the kind woman and started to indulge in your fries first. 

Your mind drifted back to Happy. If he wasn’t ten minutes late, you would’ve been at home right now, perched against the headboard of your bed, resting. But the day would end, and you’d start all over again. Disrupting your schedule isn’t so bad. You get time for yourself, you don’t have to talk.

You smiled, as you bit your burger. And as if your thoughts aligned with reality, Happy Hogan walks in the store. 

Happy fuckin’ Hogan. 

With his suit and sunglasses and all. Out of breath, he looks at your retreating figure; attempting to swallow the burger as you smiled at him bitterly. “Hi,” You mouthfully said, settling your burger down, and signalling him to sit down. “Do you want to order anything?” You asked, mouth clear this time, as you swallowed the food. 

“I was looking everywhere for you,” Happy said through heavy breaths, slouching his shoulders. 

You nod along his words and licked your teeth with a sound. “You were late,” You took a bite of your burger again, swallowing. “So, I wandered off.” 

“You wandered off?” He repeated with a tone that clearly said he wasn’t happy. 

“I wandered off,” You repeated, your palms were free and expressed your tone. “Why were you late?” 

A twinkle behind Happy’s eyes, then, his face contorted into a blank expression. He cleared his throat, sitting straight in the chair. “Tony wanted me to do…” He fixed his tie clumsily. “Stuff.” As his words escaped his mouth, you bit into your burger comically, rolling your eyes. “Hey— He’s really worried, you need to eat the rest of,” Happy made circle gestures to your food. “This. Otherwise, he’ll—” 

“Call me,” You finished for him, wiping the ends of your mouth with a tissue. You looked around, averting your gaze from anywhere but Happy. It landed on the floor. “I know.” 

Happy tapped the table twice, making you pay close attention to him. “He cares,” He says, offering a smile through his stubble. Though, you couldn’t really tell. 

Nodding along his words, you licked your lips. “I know.” You confessed. 

𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; Tony Stark

The ride alone with Happy is the same; quiet. But you never minded. 

This time is different, something is different. Your palm fell against the texture of the seat, forehead against the car window. “This isn’t home,” You knocked the window, your eyes landed on the rear mirror. “Where are we going?” 

Happy’s eyes were ahead, avoiding your gaze. He’d be adamant in keeping eye-contact, for some reason, he wasn’t… looking at you. “Avengers Tower.” 

“What?” You blurted out, scratching the lobes of your ear, you said a bit softer; “Why?” You bit your bottom lip slightly, pulling yourself from the window, settling down onto your seat. 

He cleared his throat again. 

Weird. That wasn’t likely of him. “Tony’s there.” 

You furrow your brows, sighing as your head falls back. “Do I have to be there too?” You asked, though, quickly shaking your head. “Why do I have to be there?” 

Happy sighs, it wasn’t a condescending sigh, he wasn't tired of your questions, he just sighs—heaves out a long breath before saying. “You’ll see.”

𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; Tony Stark

“Ah, there you are!” Pepper exclaimed, her long hair bouncing as she swiftly hugged you. Giving your temple a kiss. “Come on, everyone’s waiting for you.” 

You were about to question everyone? Before you feel Happy slightly nudge you to follow Pepper, trailing closely behind you. You shake off the sensitivity of his touch before your school shoes slapped against the marbled floor. 

“How was school?” Pepper asked, pressing a button in the elevator. Her soft hands drifted back of your head, tugging a strand of it behind your ear. 

You smile, eyes ahead the number of the floor, brows raised. You rub your eyes with the back of your palms, yawning. “Normal.” 

“Until Happy,” You jabbed a thumb at the man beside you. “Was late.” 

Pepper Potts is the closest mother figure you’ve ever since HYDRA happened. Glimpses of your past always came peeking through the surface, ruining any chances of communicating like a normal person. But… Pepper, she somehow reminded you what it’s like to be human. She taught you to be more open, to not be so tense, to hold your head high. “Just normal?”

Pepper tilted her head at the man, amused. “Don’t be late next time.” She eyed him as the elevator doors opened. 

Turning around the corner, with Tony’s back turned, the Avengers erupted into cheers. Much to your surprise. You slowly backed out, slightly overwhelmed with the amount of people in the room. “Happy Birthday!” 

Your shoulders slumped back and you tried to bite down a smile. Oh. It was your birthday. “...Thank you?” You slowly inched in, seeing familiar faces. Laughter erupted again, they were drunk. Definitely. How long have they been waiting for you? Wanda came in first, hugging your shoulders. Then Natasha’s crushing hug and smile. Then… “Barnes,” You chuckled as he ruffled your hair. 

“Heat sink,” Bucky affectionately bit back, his hands curled around a clumsy, boxed present. He tossed it to you. “Don’t tell Tony.” He whispered, before patting your shoulder, and heading to the kitchen, probably to get another drink. 

Tony smiled, showing his teeth. “Happy Birthday, kid.” 

There was a silence that hung right above your heads; other than the Avengers constant laughter; there’s the awkwardness between the two of you. No matter how long the years passed by—it’s always been there, you were unsure as to how you could conquer it. 

Maybe, you could start now. Pepper and Happy passed by you, feeling that they were suddenly invading, they headed close to the other Avengers. You cleared your throat, stepping forward. “Thanks, Tony.” You said a bit timidly, causing his brows to raise slightly. 

Tony examined you up and down. You were still in your uniform, now all baggy and messy. “How was school?” He inquired, signalling his head to follow him in the kitchen. 

“Normal, until Happy showed up late.” You mimicked his action, looking back at Happy and Pepper with a smile. “Went to a restaurant. Ate something.” 

Tony nodded his head along with your vague storytelling. “You got lost?” He raised a brow. 

You grinned cheekily, leaning against the countertable with your elbow. You swiped your palm against the base of your neck, grunting a little before replying. “A bit.” 

“Sure, a bit.” Tony said, pouring you a glass of apple juice. He handed it to you, “Happy Birthday again.” 

A pause. He continued. “I know we don’t talk a lot, kid. But I want you to know that—” 

You sipped your apple juice loudly, smacking your lips together. “Care about me,” You grimaced, not to him, you didn’t have the courage to look anyone in the eyes right now. “I know.” 

Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the countertable, just beside you. Though, far enough for your liking. “No,” His lips formed into a line, you dipped your head lower, looking at him between your eyelashes. He made that stubble face that Happy would, you couldn’t distinguish if it was smiling and frowning. “I don’t… express it enough.” 

Another pause. It wasn’t the same silence that hanged minutes ago. 

It was comforting. You patiently waited. 

Tony looked at you, with a smile this time. “I care about you, kid.” He says this like an oath. Your head was still dipped down, gaze fixed on the floor. Your vision begins to water, some-fucking-how. “You’ve been through a lot,” He continues, watching as you set the glass down. “And you’ve been so strong.” He smiles when you look at him. “I’m proud of y—” 

His words were cut off with you hugging him. Tony didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your retreating figure, somehow, he understood your quiet sobs. The way your fingers tremble behind his back, the way your legs buckled, and the way your quiet sniffles were hidden by the collar of his shirt. He continued anyway, Tony’s nose was buried into your hair as he said. “I’m proud of you.” 

𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ; Tony Stark

♡ PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG TO SUPPORT ME.


Tags
1 year ago
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe
#'auntie Em' Can Eat Me Up #what A Woman #god I Want Her Hat #scratch That I Want Her Entire Wardrobe

#'auntie em' can eat me up #what a woman #god i want her hat #scratch that I want her entire wardrobe #best dressed monster east of the mississippi

Jessica Parker Kennedy as 'Medusa' Percy Jackson & the Olympians (2023- ) | 1.03 - We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium

1 year ago

FUCK. You know what hits hard. Luke being the first words of comfort Percy hears at camp. Sure, Chiron was with him and led him around camp, but their conversation felt more like losing hope for Percy. And then he get to Hermes' cabin and he is so ready for a fight, but instead he gets a warm welcome from Luke. AND THAT FUCKING HURTS OK.


Tags
9 months ago

AO3 is possibly doing away with "All Media Types" tags and that could be bad for Star Wars material (among many others)

Links to Reddit and Tumblr posts detailing the issue:

Reddit:

AO3 has started removing All Media Types tags.

AO3's policy on All Media Types tags is a disaster for anime fandom

Tumblr:

New AO3 Tag Wrangling Policy and the Transformers Fandom

recoiling in horror bc the "sherlock holmes and related fandoms" tag is gone

My understanding is that "All Media Types" tags are starting to disappear from certain fandoms on AO3, and if this is indeed the direction the site is headed in, the Star Wars tags are going to be a hot mess. As the post New AO3 Tag Wrangling Policy and the Transformers Fandom explains, the All Media Types tags help keep works from different parts of the same media types from being classified as Crossovers, which is...kind of important when talking about Star Wars as well.

Like, ignoring the fact that the majority of Star Wars movies, TV shows, books, and video games have characters and timelines that overlap one another, we also had an an EU reset a decade ago, which resulted in a split between Legends and Canon. And, I can't speak for the entire fandom, but I know plenty of writers who like to pick aspects they like from each and stick them in the same story.

Consider: Would a story involving sequel-trilogy Leia remembering an event that occurred during the original trilogy suddenly be considered a Crossover (which would exclude it from the search results of a ton of people who avoid Crossovers that mix franchises, but who would actually be interested in the story since it's the same dang franchise)? Would a story detailing the entirety of Obi-Wan's life be considered a Crossover? The implications of such a decision are not great.

It is being suggested that we voice our opinions (politely) using AO3's Support and Feedback form. I'm going to do so, and if this is something that concerns you, you might speak up as well. Hopefully if enough people say something, they'll either stop retiring the tags or will come up with another solution, because this is madness for so many fandoms.

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typingfool - my love, mine, all mine.
my love, mine, all mine.

pining, stifling.

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