NEW Avengers: Infinity War concept art poster includes our very first look at Black Widow. Natasha will have blonde/white hair in this movie. This is an interesting change; I am excited to see the reasons behind this new look.
You release a trailer at D23. We don’t even get a single photograph of it. Only descriptions. Hype created.
You show the same trailer to everyone in SDCC. Trailer gets leaked, everyone is talking about it again. Even more hype.
Your next move: YOU RELEASE THE DAMN TRAILER TO THE PUBLIC BECAUSE WE’RE OUT HERE DYING TO SEE IT AND YOU’LL BREAK THE HYPE METER, I PROMISE WE’LL GIVE YOU A BILLION VIEWS IN AN HOUR I’LL PERSONALLY SEE TO THAT
I just realized that if something happens to tony in infinity war peter would lose not one- not two- but THREE father figures. his dad from when he was young, uncle ben just six months prior, and then a high chance that tony will. when will marvel give this boy a break?
A/N: Thank you to all those who followed me and read my first fic! I’m thinking of doing a part two to this one, so if you like it, let me know!
Your fire escape had always been your favourite part
of your apartment. Situated outside your
bedroom window, you had spent countless hours of your life lounging on the
metal steps, reading a book or catching up on some homework. Last summer, you had wound a string of fairy
lights around the rails, which were coated in shiny dark paint. Your landlady had protested at first but,
after you proved that they weren’t endangering the use of the fire escape in
any way, she had let you keep them. The
small victory had brought a smile to your face, and now your escape was even
cozier than before, and was still just as cozy a year later. This year’s summer brought scorching heat and
clear nights, and you spent most of your free time out on your escape, trying
to catch a breeze.
You sat on your fire escape now, wearing a lightweight
hoodie and pajama shorts, doodling in a journal. School was out for the week and tomorrow didn’t
require a six am wake up call, leaving you free to stay up late and admire the
Queens skyline at night. It was nights
like these that you loved the most; nights that seemed like they were pulled
straight from a movie scene, with stars that glimmered like flames, a full moon
bigger than you had ever seen before, and the sounds of the city mixing in with
the quiet melodies that drifted out of the speakers propped up on your window
sill. You would be content for the rest
of your life if you could keep moments like these forever.
Of course, no sooner had the thought crossed your mind
that the scene in front of you changed.
To your left, there was a burst of light a few blocks away, and flames
began to rise around the building.
Sirens quickly began sounding, drawing nearer and nearer as the flames
grew. Despite the noise, you could hear
shouts in the distance, and you got up from your seat on the stairs to see if
you could find out the cause of the light.
You leaned over the railing as far as you could safely
go, straining to see. For a moment,
there was nothing but the fire, until the burst of light occurred again, bigger
and brighter than before. You could feel
the heat of it ripple across your face, and you stumbled back in shock. Emerging from the source of the fire was a
swinging figure, rushing away from the scene.
You leaned over the rail again, even farther, squinting through the
darkness to make out the identity of the figure. After a moment, with the aid of the moonlight
as the figure swung up through your street, you realized that it was the masked
hero of Queens, Spider-Man.
Although anyone and everyone knew of Spider-Man, you
had never seen the crusader in person.
Of course, you admired him; there was something to be said for someone
who spends their life trying to help others.
And he seemed so down to earth—one of your friends at Midtown said that
they had spotted him helping an old lady with directions, and another spoke of
how he left notes for lost bikes and the like.
A boy in your AP literature class claimed that he had been saved by
Spider-Man a few months ago, and that he sounded like he was a teenage boy, not
actually a man quite yet. His bravery
seemed to extend far past his age.
At that moment, Spider-Man’s bravery wasn’t the only
thing extended too far. While your mind
had wandered to what you knew of him, you had leaned further and further over
the guard railing. Your train of thought
was halted as you lost your balance on the bottom half of the metal bar (when
had you climbed up onto it?) and you began to pitch forward. Frantically, you tried to grab onto the
railing and pull yourself back up, but no sooner had the thought crossed your
mind that you felt yourself pushed back onto the safety of the fire escape.
Confused, you looked up to see Spider-Man in front of you,
his arms still around your shoulders from where he had quickly grabbed you.
“Are you okay?” He asked, concern apparent in his tone
(his voice was high but definitely male; it appeared the boy from your AP literature
class had told the truth).
You nodded your head, swallowing hard. You were still a little shaky from the adrenaline
of the scare. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.
Are, um, are you okay?”
“I—yeah, um, I’m okay,” Spider-Man answered
confusedly, dropping his arms. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you kind of just, like…blew up a restaurant.”
You bit your lip. “At least, I think it was a restaurant? It was in the general vicinity of Vizzini’s.”
“I didn’t blow up Vizzini’s; the three guys who are
currently webbed to a lamppost across the street blew up Vizzini’s.” Spider-Man
defended himself, crossing his arms.
“Either way, it doesn’t make my favourite Italian restaurant
any less blown up, does it?” You tilted your head. “Sorry. That was rude. I’m usually less rude? I think it’s the shock of almost falling off
a seventeen story high fire escape.
Thank you, by the way. I should’ve
said that before. That was also kind of
Spider-Man laughed. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I swung by in time.”
You smiled gratefully. “Thank you, really. I owe you.
Even if you did blow up my favourite Italian place.”
“Well, thank you for asking if I’m okay,” Spider-Man
replied. “No one ever does. And if you
need a new favourite restaurant, there’s a great Thai place over on 68th. Amazing larb.”
“I’ll check it out.” You nodded.
Silence fell between you two. What did you say now? The shock was wearing off, and you realized
that you enjoyed talking to Spider-Man.
However, you were also aware that it was Spider-Man. What else were you supposed to say?
“I like your drawing,” The masked hero said after a
moment, pointing to your notebook full of doodles that still sat on the
stairs. It was flipped open to a sketch
you had done of some flowers in a park, to practice some shading.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” You walked over to the notebook and
picked it up. “It’s just a little hobby, nothing big.”
“Hey, hobbies are great! They don’t need to be big.” Spider-Man
replied. “Were you drawing tonight?”
You shrugged. “Yeah, a bit. I like to spend time out here, especially at
“Can I see?” Spider-Man reached a hand out for the
You shrugged again, passing the book to him. You weren’t really one for showing your
doodles to people, but then again, this guy just saved your life. You weren’t really in a position to complain.
Spider-Man accepted the book and flipped through,
stopping at the drawing you did tonight.
It was of the Queens skyline with all the stars shining above.
“This is my favourite,” He said. Although you couldn’t see his mouth, you
could almost hear the smile. “It’s a good night for drawing, huh?”
He passed the notebook back to you, and you tore the
page out. “Here. Keep it. As a thank you.”
Spider-Man shook his head. “No, thank you, but I can’t. It’s yours.”
“No, seriously, it’s just going to stay in the book
forever,” You gave a small smile. “It’s really not a big deal. I want you to have it. And look, there’s Vizzini’s there; it’s like
a memoriam for the best Italian place ever.”
Spider-Man folded the drawing and tucked it into one
of his black bracelets. You realized,
looking closer, that they were his web shooters.
Spider-Man glanced over his shoulder, towards the
burning building. You had almost
forgotten about the fire. “I have to go,” He took a few steps back, towards the
rail. “But be careful next time, okay?”
“I will, but you better be careful too, Spider-Man.”
You gave him a long look, stressing each word.
The hero nodded, and with a wave, he was off, swinging
from web to web.
By Monday morning, your friends knew of your meeting
with Spider-Man, and by lunch, it seemed like the entire school was flocking
towards you to hear the story. Once the day
was almost over, you felt like you had repeated the tale thousands of times,
yet people still clamoured for all the details you could give. A small group had gathered around your
locker, looking at you eagerly.
“He took the drawing with him?” A girl from your
calculus class said in awe. “That’s so cool!”
“Yeah, you’re so lucky, Y/N,” Another classmate said,
shaking their head.
“I mean, I did almost fall from a hundred feet,” You
reminded them. “And accused him of destroying my favourite restaurant. He probably took the drawing so he could show
it to the Avengers and tell them about the weird girl who jumps over fire
“I think you’re wrong,” A voice from next to you piped
up. “I think he appreciated you asking how he was doing.”
You glanced beside you to see Peter Parker, a kid who
sat behind you in physics. You weren’t particularly
close to Peter, but you had talked a few times, and your lockers were located
in the same row.
“You think so, Peter?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, well…no one ever asks the hero if they’re okay,”
Peter shrugged, opening his locker and placing a few books inside. “They just
kind of assume they are. Everyone likes
being treated like they matter.”
“You make a
good point.” You smiled. “Thanks, Peter.”
“No problem.” Peter gave you a shy smile.
Just then, the bell rang, signalling it was time to
get to final period. The group around
your locker began to disperse, but not without one final question.
“Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” Someone
“Nah,” You grinned wryly and shook your head. “I can’t
imagine that a random citizen who hangs out on fire escapes and doodles is of
much interest to a superhero.”
With that final comment, everyone parted ways to their
final class. Only Peter stayed behind, saying
he would see you in physics.
Peter grabbed out the books he needed for his final
class, and looked at the drawing he had taped up in the back of his
locker. The Queens skyline seemed to
shine, even in plain graphite pencil.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Y/N.” Peter grinned to himself
and shut his locker. “You’re a lot more interesting than you think.”