without enough time to make something really cool for you kiddos

smile ✦ peter parker

summary : as the adopted daughter of none other than tony stark, you have a myriad of responsibilities. babysitting peter parker probably wasn’t supposed to be one of them. not that you’re complaining.

word count : 4.7k (also known as the longest thing I’ve ever written)

author’s note : ur adopted b/c not everyone is white and i don’t want anyone to feel excluded from reading this due to the fact tony is white (and yes ik there are interracial couples i just want everyone to feel included i want to make sure whoever wants to read this can without feeling weird about it b/c i know it is something that bothers people in the fanfic community okay bye enjoy my loves.)

   Tony Stark was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was the billionaire, he was the genius, the philanthropist, and the notorious playboy in his younger years. Most notably, however, was that he was Iron Man. He was marveled at by the entire world, him and the group of heroes that stood beside him; the Avengers, as they called themselves. To you, however, he was your father. 

   A terribly overprotective one, at that. 

  Of course, this was only to be expected of a father, even a foster one, but the lengths the man went to in order to keep his only daughter out of whatever he deemed trouble were rather extensive. You rarely ever left the Avengers tower, and if you did you were accompanied by a team of people you could only describe as rip off Secret Service men. Sometimes, Natasha would replace them, or Steve, but that was a rare occurrence. You were homeschooled by the best tutors his money could pay for- this particular move was less about refining your education and more about keeping you away from any boy in the five boroughs. 

   You chose to spend majority of your time reading in your room and training, always wary of anyone who approached you about being a friend. Your surname meant everything to people, especially the girls that wandered around Manhattan desperate to become the bestie of the daughter of the richest man in New York. You loved your dad with all your heart, but the stigma that ran with the Stark name would never stop irritating you. 

   That, and the impromptu plans he threw at you on a regular basis. 

   “Miss Stark, your father is requesting access to your room. He knows you hate it when he barges in.” Vision drifted into your room without warning, making you jump. You yanked your earbuds out of your ears, giving him a look. 

   “I hate when anyone barges in, Vision. That includes you, too.” You pushed your chair away from your desk, placing your pen on the desk and shutting your notebook. “Tell him he can come in if he lets me become an Avenger.” You raised your voice at this, knowing he would hear you. 

   “He says that he’ll consider it if you let him in.” 

   You raised your eyebrows. “Touché.” You motioned for the door to open, and your father walked into the room, immediately taking his pristinely polished shoes off and lying down on your bed. You stared at him.“Dad, it’s not cool to wear sunglasses inside. You look lame.” 

   Tony Stark rolled his eyes at you. “It’s called a look, sweetheart.” You laughed, pretending to nod in agreement. He placed his hands behind his head as you spun your chair back around to your desk. “What are you working on?” 

   “Something for Bruce,” you muttered, pen cap between your teeth as you continued to jot down important points from his numerous lab reports. You were going to have to hand in a full analysis of his findings for your end of term science paper, and he was more than willing to aid you. “Science report.” 

   “My daughter, beautiful and intelligent, my flesh and blood,” Tony declared proudly. 

   “Dad, I love you to the death, but I’m still not your biological kid,” you smiled all the same, though, and he knew behind the tough exterior you were happy to hear his expressions of admiration. 

    “Who needs a biological kid when I’ve got this great, wonderful adopted one right in front of me.” 

   Not looking up from your notebook, you said, “You’re really laying it on thick today. I’m all of those things, obviously, but I know you want something. So, what is it?” You paused, then said, “Thank you, by the way.” 

   “You sure we’re not related?” He sat back up, clasping his hands together. “What do you say about Germany?” 

   “Nice enough place I guess, interesting history, why?” 

   “I kind of need you to go there for two weeks with me.” 

   With a groan, you dropped your pen and held your face in your hands. “Another surprise trip? Dad, I have school. I have homework! Do you see this?” You held up the thick stack of reports from Banner’s lab, waving them around. “This is gonna be, like, my life’s work.” 

   Tony shook his head. “Kids these days and their homework. Seriously. When I was at school I would have taken any opportunity to shirk my responsibilities.” 

  “You did do that.”

    He waved his hand. “Technicalities. Anyway, as you know the Avengers have been disassembled. Sokovia Accords and all that bullshit. I assume you’ve been keeping up?” 

   “Hard not to.” It was true. Anything in the news was about the great split of the infamous team, Captain America vs Iron Man. It was impossible to turn on the television without hearing about it. And, considering you lived underneath the same roof as half of them, it was quite literally not an option to be ignorant to what was going on. 

   “Good,” he grinned proudly again. If there was one emotion that the man felt whenever he was around, it was proud. Nearly everything you did made him beam with pride, and if you had been placed into an actual high school, there was no doubt in his mind that the person at the top of every single class would be you. You excelled no matter the circumstances. “So, to sum up, there’s gonna be a big showdown in Germany. Western style, naturally. Guns blazing and everything.” 

   Your eyes lit up and you nearly flew out of your chair, rushing over to him. “Oh my god, are you finally gonna let me fight? You’ve seen my training, right? I’m getting so good. I’m like, practically Natasha level good. She’s been showing me that move where I can snap people’s necks with my thighs and-” 

   “First of all, your thighs are not going around anyone’s neck, so jot that down,” he interrupted. Your enthusiasm visibly deflated. “I need you to kind of watch over this kid who’s coming with us. He’s from Queens. You love Queens.” 

   “You’re making me babysit?” You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “C’mon, dad, I’m sixteen. That’s practically an adult. I think I should be allowed to fight this time. I’m Avenger worthy.” 

   “Practically an adult is not the same as literally an adult, as in over eighteen.” You groaned again. “Don’t call it babysitting, anyway. He’s your age. Well, he’s a few months younger, but that doesn’t matter. Just call it… hanging out with a good kid that’s fighting for your dear old dad and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble in Germany or annoy Happy too much.” He patted your knee, standing up. “We leave in the morning, kiddo, so pack up.” 

   “How come he gets to fight if he’s younger than I am?” 

   “’Cause he’s not my daughter. Goodnight, light of my life.” He kissed your forehead before leaving, giving you another encouraging smile.

   “Goodnight, pain my ass,” you grumbled as he left. He popped back in, a stern expression on his face. “If I watch your new protégée can I become an Avenger?” Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. Teenage girls were exhausting. 

   “We’ll talk about it.”


   You’re sitting at your breakfast table with suitcases piled next to you when Peter Parker strolls into your life with happiness in his every footstep because he is just so, so glad to be there. You’re spooning cereal into your mouth when he sits down directly across from you, a video camera cupped in his soft looking hands and the little red button clicked on, meaning that he is recording you. You place your spoon back into the bowl of milk that is dusted with cinnamon sugar from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch you’ve been eating for the past ten minutes. 

   “Do you mind?” 

   “Mind what?” He asked, peeking up from behind his camera. You gestured toward it, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. 

   “The camera. I’m kind of still in the middle of eating breakfast in my pajamas,” you leaned forward, switching it off. “You must be the Spider-Boy.” The chestnut haired boy feels a blush creeping up his neck and settling along his cheekbones when you say that. 

   “Oh, did Mr. Stark tell you that?” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Um, it’s Spider-Man, actually.” He mumbled the man part, knowing fully well that he didn’t look like much of a man in the eyes of anyone, his eyes casting down as he fidgeted with the strap on his camera. 

   “Oh good,” you nodded. You took another spoonful of cereal. “I like that better. Nicer ring to it.” You grabbed your box of sugary breakfast and pushed it toward him, an offering. 

   “Huh?” He was a bit dazed. He stared at the box in front of him and then realized he had been doing that for far too long of a time to be considered normal. “Oh, right, um, sure, thanks!” He opened the box and took a handful, shoving it in his mouth. You kept eating your cereal, silently staring at the bowl and willing yourself not to laugh at the boy in front of you. With all his nerves, he was still a bundle of energy and cheerfulness, and, well, let’s face it, he was sort of adorable. “So, you think my name’s cool?” He tried to sound suave, charming, as he said it, tried to smirk at you, but he stopped when he realized that he looked stupid.

   You gave him a half smile. “It’s pretty good.” His face positively lit up with happiness to be taken seriously, and you knew the feeling too well. You stuck out your hand. “Oh, forgot to introduce myself-” 

  “Y/N Stark, adopted daughter of Mr. Stark, probably the smartest girl in all of New York and, uh, correct if I’m wrong but… Black Widow’s best student as well as Bruce Banner’s apprentice.” 

   You gaped at him. The blush he had been sporting crept up to his ears and made his nose turn the shade of a strawberry. “Well, uh, yeah,” you said, flustered. “Should I creeped out or flattered?” 

   “Flattered, please.” The genuine worry in his eyes as he leaned forward made you laugh. He had an endearing personality. 

   “Flattered it is.” You watched the slow sigh of relief leave his mouth, his hands flying up the mess of hair atop his head and fixing it distractedly. Your dad walked into the room, and Peter practically fell out of his chair trying to stand up and seem presentable. Your slouch was indicative that you didn’t care much. He was just your dad. “Morning, pops,” you slid the box over his way.  

   He frowned at it.” Y/N, that stuff is crap. I don’t know why you eat it.” 

   “Wanda and I like it,” you said defensively, a slip of the tongue. You knew your dad was going to get annoyed at the mention of the Scarlet Witch, who had evaded and ignored his attempts at keeping her powers under control. “It’s good. High quality. Right, Peter?” You whipped your head toward him. 

   He felt his heart give a little tug. He grabbed the box out of your hand and shoved more cereal in his mouth, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. Best stuff ever,” he said through a mouthful of it. Tony gave them an amused glance, picking up your two heaviest suitcases and beckoning you both to the landing strip. Peter swallowed his food. 

   He didn’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch that much. He was just thrilled that you knew his real name.


   Everything about this kid was infuriatingly dorky in the cutest way possible. You came to this conclusion as you boarded the jet with ease, sitting in your usual spot by the window and greeting Happy with your typical friendly smile and idle chitchat. Peter stumbled onto it with awe written across his features as he stared around the place, touching nearly everything much to Happy’s dismay. 

   “Haven’t you been on a plane before?” The man asked, growing irritated with the way the kid was filming everything. You saw Peter zoom in on Happy’s face and grinned out your window. 

   “Nope, never!” Peter exclaimed, his video camera still in front of him as he captured every detail of his trip. 

   “Well, sit down so we can take off,” Happy said gruffly, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and forcefully placing him into a seat. 

  Peter sat still for a moment, then hopped over to the seat next to you. He placed his camera in front of him on the tray table. “Y/N, smile for the camera. I’m recording.” You looked at him, then turned to the camera and gave it a deadpan stare. You even threw in a slow blink. “Good enough,” he shrugged. He kept it recording as he shifted in his seat so that his entire body was facing you, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow on your armrest. His gaze was sort of nice. “So, Miss Stark, I have a few questions.” 

   “Um, okay, shoot,” you closed your book that you had open on your lap. “I’m not that interesting, just so you know.” 

  “I think you’re interesting,” he assured you. You heard Happy let out a choked laugh at Peter’s flirting attempt, but it was just another thing you found sort of lovely. It was a genuine compliment. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”

   You’d been expecting the typical what’s it like being Tony’s daughter spiel, and you were pleased to get an actual question about yourself for once. “I like everything, I guess. I kind of love school, but I don’t go to a conventional school, so. Training is cool, I like that a lot.” 

   “You train with Black Widow, I have to ask- can you show me some moves? I need to refine my technique before the fight,” he explained.  

    “Do you wanna learn how to crush people with your thighs?”

   “Wow! Do you think I could? Could you teach me? That’s so cool,” he beamed, turning to the camera for a split second with an overexcited look. 

   You pursed your lips, staring out your window for a minute. You were up in the air by now, and there was long flight ahead of you. “Maybe. If my dad is okay with it. I have to check.” Peter looked confused, 

   “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

   “He’s, you know, really overprotective.” You put your first against the cheek, leaning the same way that Peter was. You sighed. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Which is fine, but I can’t even attempt to go make any because I have a whole freaking SWAT team on my ass the minute I step out of the tower because he’s so worried about my safety.” You let your head hit the window, your eyes rolling skyward. “And that makes no sense because-” 

   “You’re really strong and stuff. You can protect yourself,” Peter finished. 

    “I think you know me a little too well, Peter,” you said, poking him lightly in the arm. “But… yeah, exactly. I don’t really get to do anything fun. I don’t have adventures. Sure, reading is fun and studying is fun for me and training is great and I love hanging out with everyone in the tower but I’m still a teenager. No fun for me, though. My life is pretty boring, sorry if that makes your little video diary suck.” You stuck your tongue out at his camera.  

   “No worries,” he said, taking it off the tray table and turning it toward you. “Tell me every boring detail, Miss Stark.” 

   “As long as you stop calling me Miss Stark.” 

   “You’ve got a deal.” 

   It was a seven hour trip, and you both passed out by the three hour mark after Peter had pried every excruciating detail from your life out of you. You hated sleeping on airplanes, but your head was slumped against his shoulder and his arm was knocking against your own and his sweatshirt was as soft as pillow. You remembered the shy glance he had given you just before you knocked out on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight. He had a sweet smile. 


    Peter filmed absolutely everything. He filmed himself getting off the plane and then filmed you getting off the plane and nearly shoved the camera in Happy’s face until he threatened to break it and Peter backed off. He radiated enthusiasm. “Look at this, and this, and this, oh shit wow that’s so cool look at this! Oh man this is good stuff!”

   “Peter this is literally just the airport how am I supposed to take you around the actual city?!”

   “OH WOW Y/N have you seen this!” 

    “Yes, Peter!” 

     He zoomed in on your face, your devoid of emotion look appearing again. “Are you ever gonna smile for the camera?” He gave you a pout, doe eyes and all. You turned away. 

   “No. I’m supposed to be babysitting you, please be behave.” You touched your fingers to the bridge of your nose, dragging Peter to a couch. “Please sit. We’re getting the hotel reservations checked.” 

   “Do they juice boxes? I’m really thirsty.” He was just trying to make you laugh at this point, and annoying you was kind of funny for him. You let out an involuntary chuckle when he pretended to claw at his throat, throwing himself on the ground. 

   “I’ll make sure they have juice boxes for you, Petey. You’re such a seven year old, geez.” You pretended to gag. 

   Looking offended, Peter replied, “I’m actually twelve.” 

   Jokingly, you said, “You’re a twelve year old that’s going to get a punch in the face if you don’t settle down right now.” He stood up, directly in front of you with his light eyes and little grin, another feverish looking heat burning at his face. Nevertheless, he still said, “It’d be an honor to get beaten up by you.” 

  His voice, the sincerity he carried within it despite the ludicrous statement, made you feel those famed butterflies fluttering inside you. Maybe it was the way he looked into your eyes as he said it. Maybe it wasn’t. But something within you was starting to like Peter Parker, and you’d barely known him for twenty four hours. 

   Then again, it was hard to not like Peter. The kid was just so damn likable. 


   He had known it from the moment he first set his eyes upon you that day in the tower that he was a goner. If he had known it then, just from sitting down across from you with nothing to him but his lanky figure and a suit that resembled a onesie more than it did a costume fit for a hero such as he, he was sure of it now, a week and a half later. 

   Every day had been the same routine. He’d be up bright and early in the morning so you could help with him his training, teaching him how to utilize the suit your father had given him with ease rather than his usual tactic of jumping into everything blind. You’d been the one to help come up with nearly all of the web shooter combinations. He didn’t know all of them yet, or close to half of them, but he was progressing wonderfully. 

   After training, you’d give him the tour of your favorite places around Germany, close enough to where you’d both be able to get back to the hotel before dark. He filmed the both of you constantly, but you shied away from the cameras every time without fail. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t push. He just liked filming in general, and would accept you not smiling in any of his clips as long as you were still in there. 

   There was a beautiful sense of normalcy that came with hanging around Peter. You reveled in it. No one had ever made you laugh so hard with his ridiculous attempts at jokes or made you smile so much at his shy flirting skills that clearly needed to be revisited. 

   It was okay. You didn’t mind. And the fact that you didn’t tease him for it made him so, so happy. 

   Then, came the day of the fight. Peter had his camera out, he was dressed in his spidey suit, and you were standing there next to him dictating who he should and shouldn’t go after. 

   “Don’t go after Wanda ‘cause she could obliterate you in two seconds and Cap could crush you, too, but he won’t ‘cause he’s really nice like that. Bucky won’t care as much, though, so don’t do that- Ant-Man seems pretty cool and harmless but I don’t have as much intel on him and Peter if you get hurt you have to go hide somewhere-” 

   “I’m not gonna get hurt,” he said confidently. 

   You ignored him. “I’m gonna be in your earpiece, figuratively speaking, so I’ll hear everything you do and if you talk I’ll be able to hear you and you can hear me. So, just… keep me updated.” Peter took off his mask for a second, hair sticking up everywhere from the static. You leaned up, smoothing it back into place. Everything about him was soft. You wanted to curl up in it and stay there for as long as you could. 

   “I’ll be fine, Y/N, don’t worry,” Peter placed his hand on your shoulder. You felt your face heat up. 

   “I- I’m not worried.” You totally were. “I know you’ll be fine.” You didn’t want him getting hurt. “I just want you to be careful.” You didn’t want him to fight. 

   You could’ve sworn his face fell a  bit when you said you weren’t worried, but he squeezed your shoulder anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around him, your nose pressing against his neck as you took a deep breath. He stood there for a second without doing anything until he realized that if he didn’t hug you back, he’d be the dumbest person on the face of the Earth. You felt his surprisingly defined arms hug you back. 

   You didn’t look at him when you pulled away. You stared at the spider emblazoned on his chest, gave him a quick good luck, then departed from the room. You sat on your own hotel bed with a rapidly beating heart.

    The nerves were killing you. Ten more minutes. You opened your laptop and pulled up the system that would allow you to communicate across Team Stark. You were more focused on your dad and Peter. You tapped into your dad’s earpiece after placing the headset on. “Dad?” You spoke into the microphone. 

   “Hey, kiddo, everything okay?” 

   “Y-Yeah I just-” you took another breath. “Be safe. I love you.” 

   “I love you too, Y/N. Are you sure everything is okay over there?” 

   “Can you just make sure Peter gets out okay? If he gets hurt, bring him right back, please. That’s it.” Maybe it was a stupid request in someone else’s eyes, but you needed Peter to make it back in one piece. Tony Stark looked over at Peter Parker, crouching in his hiding spot and fumbling around with the gloves of his suit and gave the kid a knowing smile. Of course that was the one his  daughter fell for in the end. Perfectly fitting. 

   “I’ll make sure.” You knew your father couldn’t see the grateful smile on your face, the sigh of relief that fell past your lips when he spoke these words.

   Peter Parker, I swear if you make it out of this, I will smile like an idiot in every single one of your stupidly adorable video diary things. I swear. Just be safe.


 “Your black eye is awful,” you told him, dabbing at it with more cream. “Totally ruins your face.”

   “I think I look manly.” 

   “You think incorrectly.” You stepped back, your fingertips tilting his chin up so you could examine it further. “I think I got the worst of it. You did really well, Peter. Exceptionally well.” His face was glowing from your compliment. 

   “Can I get on that tape?” He asked excitedly, ducking under his hotel bed for his camera. You nodded, and he switched the camera on. He held out his arm so that you were both in frame. And you smiled. He forgot all about what you were supposed to say the moment that beautiful smile appeared there. “I- wow, Y/N.” 

   “What?’ 

    His stare was kind as it usually was. “You just-” he paused. “Your smile is really, really beautiful.” There was no way for you to turn away from the camera this time and you were left grinning like a lovestruck idiot at the boy in front of you, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” 

  You slept the entire plane ride the way you had the last time, curled up against Peter. This time, it was intentional. One of your arms was flung across his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulders, the sweatshirt he had came in now swaddling you cozily. There were two separate cars waiting for you. You stood in between them when the flight got off, the sleeves of his sweater hanging off your hands as you reached out to grab his. He felt you push a piece of paper into his hand. “You better call me, Peter Parker. I’ll be really upset if you don’t.” 

   He wrapped you suddenly in an embrace that lifted you off your feet just a little bit, his lips pressing against your temple. “I’ll call you every day.” 


   He kept true to his word. Every day without fail, your phone rang with a call from Peter, and you fell asleep on the phone with him more often than not. If you weren’t on the phone with him, you were texting him, and if you weren’t doing that, you wished that you were. The consistent communication was better than nothing, but regardless, you missed his presence. You missed the way you felt walking next to him as he explained why chocolate ice cream was so clearly better than vanilla. You just missed him. 

   “Peter?” You held the phone to your ear, nestled in your blankets already even though it was barely nine o'clock. His sleepy voice mumbled out a yes? “Would it be stupid if I said that I missed you?” 

  She could practically hear his wide smile through the phone. “Of course not. I miss you, too. So much. Probably more than you miss me.” 

   “That’s so not true!” She scoffed. 

    “Wanna bet?” His tone was mischievous, no longer the hoarse, pretty voice of a boy just waking up from his nap. “Open your bedroom door.” 

    “Are you joking?” 

    You hung up the phone, throwing back your covers and not caring one bit that your hair was a dripping mess from your shower or that you were wearing  a terrible set of hello kitty pajamas that weren’t meant for anyone over the age of ten based on the size of the top. You nearly tackled him to the ground when you saw him standing in your doorway, a happy squeal escaping your lips. You were surprised he even got in, considering your dad wasn’t home, but you figured Vision had let him in. Vision always had a way of knowing. 

   “Have I ever told you that you have a really pretty smile?” Peter’s lips hovered over yours, almost hesitant. You took the initiative to kiss first, your hands delving into his silk-like hair. There was no point in waiting anymore. Your noses bumped together clumsily when he tilted his head back, admiring. You could feel your whole being light up when he gazed at you the way that he did, in that admiring, careful, Peter way of his. 

   “Careful, Spidey,” You warned, hands on his chest as you stared right back up at him. 

   “Careful of what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

   “You’re going to make me fall in love with you one of these days if you keep looking at me like that.” It was only the truth, and you were a honest person.

   “That’s sort of the plan,” he shrugged in a seemingly careless way, but he couldn’t hide it. He was an open book. An open book who loved you, and the way that you smiled at him when he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a web shooter, a strange glint in those brown eyes of his as he said, “You up for an adventure?” 

OFF THE CUFF HOMESTUCK THOUGHTS #3: THE SELF PILE DOESN’T STOP FROM GETTING TALLER OR: THE PROBLEM OF DEAD MARIOS

DISCLAIMER

IMPORTANT THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

[CHECK THE TAG FOR MORE THOUGHTS]

So, a long-ass time ago, Rose and Dave had a conversation like this:

TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?
TT: Will I just cease to exist?
TG: i dont know
TG: i mean your whole timeline will
TG: maybe
TT: Maybe?
TT: Is there a chance it’ll continue to exist, and I’ll just be here alone forever?
TT: I’m not sure which outcome is more unsettling.
TG: the thing with time travel is
TG: you cant overthink it
TG: just roll with it and see what happens
TG: and above all try not to do anything retarded
TT: What do you think I should do?
TG: try going to sleep
TG: our dream selves kind of operate outside the normal time continuum i think
TG: so if part of you from this timelines going to persist thats probably the way to make it happen
TT: Ok.
TG: and hey you might even be able to help your past dream self wake up sooner without all that fuss you went through
TT: I think the true purpose of this game is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word “self” and still understand what we’re talking about.

This is the most important sentence in Homestuck.

I am dead serious.

Well, OK, I mean, it’s pretty important for understanding some major Homestuck themes and shit or something like that.

Also, I totally should have said: Pre-Retcon Doomed Timeline Non-Dreamself Rose but ultimately about to become Dreamself Rose who semi-merged with Pre-Retcon Alpha Timeline Rose and Doomed Timeline Dave aka Davesprite AKA future Davepetasprite^2 or as we all call them around the office, Davepeta, had that conversation.

Maybe you begin to see what I’m going to talk about here.

One of the major frustrations a lot of people had with the retcon was that the characters we ended up with at the end weren’t the ones we’d come to love and know throughout the story. Was it even worth it, to lose the characters we loved to the tyranny of Game Over? The victorious kids, with the exception of John and Roxy, were other people, with other histories, other goals, and other choices.

Allow me to submit that that may be the whole point.

SBURB is cruel. We’ve known that for a long time. It’s cruel not as Caliborn is cruel, but as the cosmos is cruel, as a supernova is cruel. It wants what it wants, and doesn’t care about how that intersects with the needs of humanity. It wants to make universes through a complex game-playing method, and drags hapless, vulnerable adolescents along for the ride. And most of the time it doesn’t even succeed, leaving its champions to rot in a doomed timeline or similar! Skaia’s victory is an amoral creation myth where individual human beings are just the carved pieces on the chessboard. (I mean, the other ones. Not the carapacians.)

Again, let’s consider the theme of VIDEO GAMES vs. REAL LIFE.

Homestuck, let’s be real, is basically some postmodern horror timey-wimey Jumanji. For a generation way more familiar with pixels than cute little tokens It’s easy for teenagers and in fact, basically everyone, to fantasize about escaping their life and slipping into some game world forever, where they get to do awesome things and be a heroic person.

Homestuck makes that literal. Congratulations, everything you ever knew is dead. You will never see it again, except your internet friends, who turn out also to be your family and other important people. I mean, from a distance, SBURB sounds like an awesome game, right? You figure out who you are and get to wear a cool costume displaying that identity. You get to make anything you want and enjoy this hyperflexible mythology tailored to YOUR CHOICES. HS fans talk all the time about how cool it would be to play a real version of SBURB. That’s a big part of the appeal of SBURB fan adventures. They put you and your friends in the story. Or your favorite characters! It sounds like a fantasy come true.

The thing is, as fantastical as it is, it’s also really fucked up, and ultimately you and your friends are being used. By a giant frog to let it have its babies. By the universe. By a smug blue cloud thing that doesn’t care about you at all.

SBURB does not care about you at all.

The funny thing, SBURB features a mythology with so many layers and nuances and seemingly human motifs about growth and self that you might search for some grand ultimate meaning behind it, but it’s not even human enough to have a personality, to be something you can argue with or fight. It just is. It’s all the cruelty and power of a god without any of the dazzling personality. It’s empty. It just wants to make universes all day long, or fail trying. It is a great, weird tadpole-making machine that eats children.

One of the big ways it doesn’t care about you is its attitude toward the self. Humans and trolls and whatnot prefer not to be relentlessly duplicated. SBURB says, oh yeah, let’s make tons of copies of the player characters and use them for a lot of different purposes.

There’s the dreamself, an essential bifurcation of identity (you are now and were always the dream moon princex) that sometimes gets merged into god tier but sometimes doesn’t. There’s doomed timeline selves, who exist ultimately to augment an Alpha timeline whose Alphaness is decided very arbitrarily and frequently by Lord English. There’s the you who exists before a scratched session and the you who exists afterward, who are two different people but started as one baby in an act of ectobaby meteor duplication, your player self and your guardian self. Dead timeline yous fill up the dreambubbles made by the horrorterrors and get endlessly confused with each other. Any one of these could be the you experience being at any given moment, and which one it is entirely arbitrary. Don’t like being Dead Nepeta #47? Tough hoofbeast leavings, kiddo.

To top it all off, in Terezi: Remember, we learn that every single time we thought someone changed from one self to another, was resurrected or something like that, it was another act of duplication. For every time someone’s died, there’s another version of them waiting in the Dream Bubbles, surprised that they’re not the main character anymore. And we have no way of knowing which is which. Even John, good old everyman John, may or may not be the person who died three or four times. It’s really impossible to say whether we’ve been following the same person throughout our story, or just the illusion of the same person, like a horrifying cosmic flipbook.

The retcon is a return to this same theme. Ultimately, there’s very little new in the changes John makes to reality except that they drive the point home.

John’s friends all died. John and his friends won the game. These things are both true at the same time, except those things may not have happened to the same people. There was a happy ending. Hooray! For, um, some folks who may or may not be the ones we care about. In fact, it’s very confusing, because from Rose’s perspective, Roxy is dead but came back to life, and from Roxy’s perspective Rose is dead but came back to life, except also she came back to life as a weird tentacle catgirl of pure id and self –indulgence. So there’s that. Um. Which Rose are we rooting for again?

Or wait: is it none of them, because the first Rose died in a doomed timeline, hundreds of panels and a number of years ago?

There’s a tension here which one experiences between saying it’s okay because it’s still the same people, and saying it’s not okay, because it’s not the same people at all. This tension is exactly what we’re meant to wrestle with. To put it another way, Homestuck asks if identity can work in aggregate. Are all Johns John, all Roses Rose, and do they all share in what they accomplish? Or are the final victors only accidents created by the whims and needs of the frog baby machine?

What I’m saying, basically, is that the retcon, in the sense that it pointed out our confused relationship with these characters, was already here.

In interviews and questions put to him over the years, Hussie constantly compares HS and SBURB to other video games, particularly Mario, which he frequently returns to as a baseline of comparison that most of his readers will know. One answer, from a recent Hiveswap interview, is particularly revelatory. To the question of “Why do you kill off all your characters?” Hussie replies:

[…]HS is supposedly a story that is also a game. In games, the characters die all the time. How many times did you let Mario fall in the pit before he saved the princess? Who weeps for these Marios. In games your characters die, but you keep trying and trying and rebooting and resetting until finally they make it. When you play a game this process is all very impersonal. Once you finally win, when all is said and done those deaths didn’t “count”, only the linear path of the final victorious version of the character is considered “real”. Mario never actually died, did he? Except the omniscient player knows better. HS seems to combine all the meaningless deaths of a trial-and-error game journey with the way death is treated dramatically in other media, where unlike our oblivious Mario, the characters are aware and afraid of the many deaths they must experience before finally winning the game.

The big man hass the answer.

Homestuck is the story of those dead Marios.

Other works, like Undertale, have engaged with this topic as well. But one of the major differences between Undertale and Homestuck is that in Undertale, between “lives,” one’s consciousness is preserved. In Homestuck, it’s discontinuous, and the value of the overall trial-error process is called into question by the fact that you, the player, may not even get to experience the victory. What meaning does victory hold if that is the case?

So, to put it in a nice thesis format:

One of the central themes of Homestuck is the challenge of reconciling an arbitrary and destructive pattern of growth and victory with the death and suffering you experienced along the way. Homestuck asks: is victory worthwhile if you’re not you anymore? And would you be able to know?

What even is the self? Is there such a thing?

If you were left feeling somewhat disconcerted by our heroes’ tidy victory and departure to their cosmic prize, or by how which Rose gets the spotlight is so deeply, deeply arbitrary, there’s a good reason for that. You’re supposed to be.

The philosophical problem of Wacky Cat Rose is insignificant next to the bullshit of SBURB.

And don’t forget—John and Roxy’s denizens helped them achieve the retcon. Ultimately, the victory they achieved was mediated by the same amoral system of SBURB, and was a victory over an enemy, Caliborn, whose power was created, perpetuated, and ended by that same system.

Okay, so here’s where it gets contentious. There’s an argument to be made, which I’m not sure how I feel about, that some of the character development that could have been in post-retcon Act 6 was left out precisely to push this feeling and play up this tension. Note that this is not the same thing as saying that they were deliberately badly written, but that they’re deliberately written to make us uneasy.That Hussie deliberately played with the balance between making these retconned characters feel familiar and making them feel eerily different to leave us feeling uneasy with the result.

I’m not sure I like that idea. It smacks a little too much of that “everything is perfect” thinking that comes sometimes from the far Metastuck camp. Some of the differences may also be the result of flawed writing. (See: Jane and Jake’s character arcs, which I might talk about later.) And I want to be able to critique those flaws. Ultimately, I think we still needed more time and development to figure out who these new people were—even if our goal was ultimately to compare them to their earlier selves. And again, more conscious acknowledgement of the problem from our heroes—especially John, the linchpin in this last and biggest act of duplication—might have helped drive this theme home.

Still, I think the Problem of Dead Marios is one of the most fundamental questions of Homestuck, maybe THE biggest question. It’s essential to understand it to understand what Hussie’s doing—or attempting to do— in the retcon and the ending.

I don’t know that Homestuck offers us a clear answer to that question. There are some confusions around the issue, too. Where do merged selves fit in, exactly? Clearly they’re a big part of the discussion, because Hussie spends some time in Act 6, especially near the end bringing the identity-merging powers of the Sprites to the forefront. (See also: the identity-merged nightmare that is Lord English.)  Can we even come up with a clear answer to what it means when a dead Mario returns to life grotesquely fused with Toad? How does he beat the game? Does he tell himself that the princess is in another castle? Or what if he merges with Peach? Are they their own princess? How do they know if they’re in the right castle?

Um. Anyway—

Interestingly, it’s not all grotesque—spritesplosions suggest that personalities that are too different don’t stay together long, so a fusion might rely on some inherent compatibility between the two players. Erisol’s self-loathing, sure, but also Fefeta’s cheerfulness. Davepeta seems to be a way of bringing out the best in their players, a way of getting Davesprite past his angst and Nepeta past her fear. Honestly, I know a lot of people don’t like Davepeta as the ending of these two characters’ arcs, but I can’t help but love it. They’re the ultimate coolkid. Cool enough to know they don’t have to be cool. Regular Dave got there, too, of course. But was his retcon assist from John ultimately any different?

Then, of course, we come to Davepeta’s speech to Jade in one of the last few updates before Collide. Davepeta suggests that there is such a thing as an ultimate self beyond the many different selves one piles up throughout the cosmos. A set of principles that describes who you are that’s larger than any individual instance of you. Your inherent Mariohood. (Maybe this is comparable to your Classpect identity, which attempts to describe who you are?) Davepeta even tells Jade, strikingly, that one might learn to see beyond the barriers between selves. Be the ur-self, in practice, rather than theory. This would be incredible news for Jade, who wrestles with the issue of different selves perhaps more than any other character. (There’s a lot to say about Jade.)

Honestly, I wish this ur-self idea had been developed more, and I honestly expected it to be. It doesn’t fully come to fruition, I feel. (Same goes for Davepeta’s character. Ohhhh, ZING!) I’m not sure it entirely makes philosophical sense, especially with fusion—I mean, doesn’t Davepeta themself disprove it? Or at least complicate it? Like, are they part of the ur-Dave or the ur-Nepeta? They seem to imply they’re BOTH? Does that even work? Does that mean that Marieach is all the Peaches and Marios at once?

(In fact, Bowser/Peach/Mario are but the three manifestations of one eternal principle. Also, Bowser/Peach are the true power couple. Read my fanfiction plz.)

And what, say, of Dirk, who ultimately ends up rejecting aspects of his other selves? It feels like there’s a lot more you could say here, and I wonder if Hussie would have said more, if he’d had time. What’s weird is, none of our victorious kids never reach an ur-self (though to their descendants, they become archetypal to some degree), which one might have expected. They’re just individual selves who happened to get lucky. Does that make them representative of the whole? It feels like something’s missing here, or like something got dropped at the last minute.

Same goes for the idea of the Ultimate Riddle. You’d be forgiven for missing it, but there’s been this riddle in the background lore of SBURB that seems to have something to do with personal agency in this overwhelming, overarching system. Karkat called it predestination, saying something like “ANY HOPE YOU HAD OF DOING THINGS OTHERWISE WAS JUST A RUSE.” But others have interpreted it more positively. My favorite interpretation, from bladekindeyewear: the answer to the Riddle is that YOU shape the timeline through your existence, personality, and choices, even when it looks like it’s all predestination. Ultimately it’s your predestination, your set of events, based deeply on your nature, that you are creating. Someone like Caliborn can use his innate personality to achieve power; someone like John might be able to use it to achieve freedom.

I definitely expected something like that to be expressed more explicitly. Like, a big ah-ha moment that helps John or Jade or whoever understand how to escape Caliborn’s system. Something like that would have been very helpful for a lot of our heroes, actually, who’ve been pushed around by Skaia and SBURB together, in finding a cathartic ending.  Once again, I wonder if something was dropped or rushed because there wasn’t time to put it all in. There’s places where you can see hints of that Answer being implied, maybe? But it’s kind of ambiguous.

You can see how the Answer to the Ultimate Riddle ties into some of Davepeta’s ideas. If your personality, the rules of your behavior are a fundamental archetype that goes beyond each individual self, then the answer to whether it matters if one self of yours makes it through to victory is an emphatic YES. You are all of those people, and by winning one round with Skaia, you’ve won the whole game, despite all the arbitrary challenges and deaths it heaps upon you along the way.

This may strike some as too positive for Skaia’s brutality, or again, some way of excusing flaws in many characters’ arcs, or unfair things that happen to them. To be fair, I don’t know that Davepeta’s necessarily meant to be taken as authoritative or the voice of Hussie. They may simply be offering a purrspective.

Hussie not choosing to come right out and engage with the Ultimate Riddle leaves the question of Dead Marios and what they mean for the victorious versions of our cast very open. I like that in some ways—let the reader decide—but I can’t help but wish we had more to work with in making that decision. Plus, it might have brought the thematic messages of Homestuck all the way home to tie them more closely to our characters and their experiences—character development being one of the things most people found most lacking in the ending.

NEXT TIME: All that wacky gnostic stuff probably

Polydads

Also on ao3

Based on a post that @catsforartists made!

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When Amanda woke up, she decided to crawl out of bed to get a bowl of cereal. And eat it on the couch, of course.

“Ain’t nothing beat couch cereal.” She declared to the empty room and dug into her delicious and dangerously sugary cereal.

Almost immediately after taking a bite out of her cereal, she heard footsteps coming from her dad’s room, but, when she glanced up, she saw Damien walking by her.

“Good morning, Amanda dear.” Damien greeted.

“Mornin.” Amanda responded. She KNEW it. Her dad and Damien had been getting pretty close, so it wasn’t a completely wild assumption that they would start dating. And, of course, the footsteps she heard must be…

Keep reading

For @profound-boning because I keep bullying her into writing fics for me. So have some dadstiel + dean in glasses.

Fun fact: babies love glasses.

Dean and Cas weren’t aware of this bit of trivia until Claire came into their lives. Dean picked her up for the first time and nearly combusted with the sweet smile the blue-eyed girl gave him before her fat little fists came up to wrap around his frames and pull them from his face.

And it became their Thing. Any time Dean was holding Claire, he lost his glasses to the little girl. She liked to wave them around or chew on them and occasionally throw them at the cat. 

Cas warned Dean he shouldn’t let her get in that habit. And sure enough Claire was soon ripping glasses off the face of anyone who was in arm’s reach of her. 

The first time Claire breaks Dean’s glasses, Cas gives what Dean assumes is an “I told you so” look. But he’s not sure. He can’t see. 

He goes through a few more pairs in the course of their first year with Claire before it’s decided that it would be easier to switch to contacts. 

Fast forward a few years, Claire is in first grade. She grew out of her glasses-wrangling phase a while back but Dean’s grown so accustomed to contacts he doesn’t switch back. Plus, he no longer looks like a total loser at work wearing goggles over his glasses.

But one day Claire gets sent home with a note from her teacher. She’s having difficulty seeing the board even from the front row.

Dean and Cas make an appointment with the eye doctor for the next week. They reassure a nervous Claire that everything will be fine but their little girl will leave that doctor’s office in tears.

“I don’t wanna wear glasses!” she cries when they get home. “I’ll look ugly!”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cas says and strokes her hair. “You’re beautiful and glasses won’t change that.”

“Garth wears glasses and all the other kids make fun of him! What if they tease me too?” She starts to cry harder.

“Isn’t that the funny kid with the sock puppet?” Dean wonders and promptly shuts up when Cas shoots him a look. “Hey, look, kiddo. No one is gonna make fun of you for just wearing glasses. There’s nothing wrong with them. They’re just a tool to help you see. And if someone does say something, sock ‘em in the-”

“Dean,” Cas warns. 

“Eh, tell the teacher,” Dean amends.

Keep reading

It’s Only Logical - Chapter One

Pairings: Logicality/Prinxiety

Warnings: Swearing, implied sexuality

Patton didn’t exactly know what he expected when he walked into the florist shop, but this definitely wasn’t it. The man who was presently looking at him with an impassive expression was…hot. Like, really hot. He was tall and slim, with hazel eyes peering curiously at him from behind black glasses and hair that had that effortlessly mussed look that either took five minutes or an hour. Well, if he didn’t get the job, he was definitely getting his number. Patton blinked twice before mentally slapping himself. He was here for a job, not a date!

“Yes, I am hiring. I need someone to assist with customer service, handle the cash register and take phone orders. If the correct candidate proved capable, I might consider allowing them to assist me with arrangements, propagation and landscape design. I presently have a six-man crew to assist with the landscaping arm of my business, but I am handling the shop and greenhouse alone. Do you have any experience?”

Keep reading

Fic - Take a Star

So I had this cute idea for a fic, and I know I said I’d update a Strange Picnic when I was able to write again, but this idea just wouldn’t leave me alone! But yeah, I hope you enjoy it!

Tags are at the bottom - if you want taking off just let me know!

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Title: Take a Star

Warnings: a little bit of self-doubt and insecurity

Pairings: Polyamsanders - written as platonic, but could be read as romantic

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It began with a jar.

It once held coffee beans, but it had since been cleaned until it gleamed, the label carefully peeled off and the residual glue rubbed away, until the glass sparkled like new.

A sunny yellow sticker was stuck on the front, and across it were scribbled the words which started it all:

“Take a Star to Brighten Your Day!!!”

And it was full of small, purple paper stars.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

A reaction/scenario of being put in charge/mentoring a 13 or 14 y/o trainee for the members Hoshi, Jun, Woozi, and Minghao. Basically just how they'd treat her and how they'd act, just stuff like that. I saw someone request something similar on another blog and thought I'd request it here! :)

I think this is somewhere between a reaction and a scenario - hope you like it 😘 ♥ I wasn’t sure what kind of things you wanted included exactly so here you go!!


Jun

  • would honestly feel like such a big brother, and even you’d be able to feel it! 
  • upon hearing the news that he’d be put in charge to mentor you, the main thought in his mind would be “Am I cut out to do this?” but at the latest when he’s met you, he gains some confidence
  • you’d get along really well, at least after the initial ice has been broken
  • he’d take pride in mentoring you, and would make sure he gives you the best mentoring possible!
  • of course, he’d also be a bit strict in the sense that he wants you to get as good as you want to become and you have potential for
  • which is also why, at the beginning, he’d probably ask you about your goals and who you look up to, so that he’d have an idea of what he’s dealing with in that sense
  • answer “I look up to you” and he’s sold
  • he’d treat you like a friend, but he’d honestly always keep in mind that you’re quite young, so he’d in a way be more careful with his words than he’d be with someone older
  • not to mention that he’s even more caring towards you than others
  • and all in all he’d take really good care of you and always make sure you’re eating and sleeping enough (well, as “enough” as you can as a trainee)
  • so he regularly sends you messages like “Have you remembered to eat?” etc, and if you say you’ve been too busy practicing or something he’ll send you an angry sticker lmao
  • “Eat or I won’t mentor you tomorrow.”
  • it’d be followed with a laughing emoji tho, you know he’s rarely serious about that (but he is serious about eating)
  • Jun would also be quite honest in his feedback, at least after the very beginning where he’d probably still be a bit too reserved to be 100% honest about it
  • but it wouldn’t take him long to give you an honest evaluation and point out exactly where you still need to improve and focus on that
  • always makes sure you know when you’ve improved and that you also know just how proud he is of you
  • with some experience on getting feedback on it, he’d also teach you to focus on your expressions when you get good enough with a song

Hoshi

  • would be so excited to hear that he’d get to mentor you!
  • like literally as soon as he’s told about it, he’d be smiling really brightly and ask when he’ll start
  • upon meeting you, he’d want to get to know you, but he’d also want to see your level
  • so prepare to show your singing and dancing pretty much righ there and then
  • he’d watch carefully and take mental note of your strengths and weaknesses, after which he’d also ask you what you thought your strengths and weaknesses were
  • admits that he’s probably more help in dancing than in singing, and just laughs when you assure him that he’ll be able to help you with singing without a problem, too
  • Soonyoung would make practice as fun as he can while still making sure you get everything out of his lessons, and he’d feel so proud when he sees the progress you’re making
  • would ruffle your hair quite a lot, especially when you’ve been practicing for several hours straight and you’re sitting on the floor, panting while drinking your water
  • “You’re doing amazing, kiddo.”
  • would definitely help you find your own style if you didn’t have it already, and there’s no doubt that your confidence would grow a lot under his mentoring
  • much like Jun, he’d also be quite honest with his feedback - he wants you to know your flaws so that you can work on them and only get better
  • he’d get quite attached to you in the sense that he feels responsible for you, and does his best not to overwork you
  • shows his affection similarly like he does with Chan, and dotes on you a lot
  • ok I feel like they’d all make sure you’re good and healthy and taking care of yourself
  • like “Show me a proof that you’re eating well and I’ll teach you a cool move” and all that

Woozi

  • would definitely be intrigued when he’s told that he’d be mentoring you
  • it’d be his first time mentoring anyone and he’d feel a bit confused about what he’s supposed to do, but when you start working together all pieces just fall to place
  • the age gap would be felt, though, but like most of them, he’d also more or less get that big brother feel to him
  • the beginning might be a bit awkward, with him not exactly all that open with new people and you finding him rather intimidating, but little by little you get closer and more comfortable with each other
  • with Woozi tho, you get the perfect 2 in 1 deal - singing and dancing are both included under his mentoring, among everything else
  • out of all 4 he’d be the most straightforward with his feedback, but he wouldn’t word it as sharply as he probably would with like, another Seventeen member
  • but that’s not to say he won’t be almost brutally honest
  • Jihoon would treat you kindly and always makes sure he’s not asking for too much from you, while still being the most demanding of the 4
  • for at least every other lesson, he’d ask you if there was something specific you wanted to learn, like a move, technique, song or that kind of things, and then you’d work on those
  • teaches you how to sing without straining your voice too much and is happy and proud when he hears the change (and when you excitedly tell him that your throat doesn’t get sore anymore)
  • treats you out to meals quite often
  • also wants to get feedback from you, too, so that he knows how to help you better
  • would also tell you some stories from his own trainee days, especially when he feels like you might need some kind of reassurance
  • “You’re still really young, Y/N, and I really hope you know just how bright of a future you have ahead of you. Just keep working hard and doing your best, okay?
  • and other inspirational words that always remind you of why you’re training in the first place
  • might not vocally tell you just how much he cares for you but it’s obvious in how he always makes sure you’re doing and feeling alright, even if he does that sorta discreetly
  • such a great mentor honestly :(

Minghao

  • he’s the closest to your age and would probably be the one to befriend you the most in the actual sense of friend
  • but there’d still be the whole aura of “they’re younger than me I must be a good role model” around lmao
  • would, similarly to Jun, consider if he’s actually able to mentor you, but he likes new challenges so he accepts it 
  • in a way the opposite of Jihoon’s, Minghao would be rather soft with his feedback
  • like naturally he’ll tell you what you still need to work on but he always explains it super gently 
  • he’s also very patient with his training, and will gladly show moves to you as many times as you need to get it
  • dotes on you like the others, and often hugs you as well
  • much like Soonyoung, he’d also do his best to make practice fun
  • each lesson he’ll probably learn about as much as you do, since he’s not the most experienced when it comes to teaching others
  • so while you get good at dancing and everything else important, he gets better and better at helping you out
  • doesn’t really scold you when you make mistakes and instead just laughs it off like “Oh no no Y/N this is how it goes.”
  • having felt a lot of homesickness during his days as a trainee and even after debut, naturally, he’d make sure you know that you could always talk to him if you ever felt upset or homesick
  • meaning you’d probably have long talks after practice at times, with the two of you sitting on the floor and you probably hugging your knees and Minghao hugging you comfortingly and telling you it’d all be okay
  • you’d get really close to him and he’d always make sure you feel comfortable around him (probably even gets you some treats every now and then)
  • but yeah he’d treat you really well honestly like he’d be your good friend but also your mentor and you’d enjoy every lesson with him
  • if you’re lucky you learn some Chinese on the side
  • he’d quite likely also teach you some b-boying if you had interest or former experience in it
  • “Perhaps we can show our skills off together someday.”

Admin Scooter

Insecure.

Originally posted by starefantasisedroolrepeat

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Prompt: “He/She will always be more important to you. I get that now.”

Warnings: Attempted angst to just a tad bit of fluff, jealousy/insecurity. Reader is also around 16 so I’m not sure if that counts or not  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Extra: @winchesters-favorite-girl gave me this little gem during her live stream and we both agreed that angst is great and I’ve never actually written it before, so this one’s for you, Katie!

P.S: Go give Katie’s profile a look! She’s awesome and is such a nice person, plus her writing is absolutely amazing ;) 


To say you were upset was an understatement. 

It’s been obvious since the first time Dean had seen her, your brother had some kind of connection with Claire Novak. 

You couldn’t blame Dean, really. His best friend, Castiel, had basically killed Claire’s father-not on purpose, of course-and her mom had died later too. She lived a long time of her life in darkness of never really knowing what had happened to her father, and, in a way, Sam, and Dean were the same in relation to Mary for a long time. 

You, on the other hand, had met Sam and Dean when you were only a young pre-teen and they had been in their late twenties. Your mom had been killed and the boys had interviewed you for the case, not knowing that there was any type or relation between you three from John. So, of course, you hadn’t known Sam and Dean as long as Claire had, which just made you even more upset since you weren’t as connected to them as she was. 

You were currently back in Sioux Falls with your brothers to visit Jody after a particularly long hunt in upper South Dakota, and after being introduced and planning to stay the night, Dean and Claire had started chatting it up. 

You didn’t know why it made your blood boil so much. Claire was only 18, while you were younger by a simple two years. It really wasn’t much when you thought about it, but it was also two more years that she had known Sam and Dean. This wasn’t the first time this had happened though, and you always felt more excluded every time than the last when it did.

You started zoning into your own head and realizing that Dean probably like Claire more than you. It was stupid to think, but you couldn’t help it with seeing the way he spoke to her so easily, laughing in the conversation-thing she didn’t do with you. You felt your eyes line with tears as you stared in front of you, your own thoughts becoming too much as you tried to blink back the water in your eyes.

Sam turned his head and looked at you with concern, noticing how you were slouched into the couch with your arms over your chest and eyes glossed over. You didn’t look angry or upset, but you had that look on your face where you were feeling so much you couldn’t convey it-and that was a look that only your brothers knew.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Sam said, taking a sip of the beer Jody had graciously given him, “you okay?” 

All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to you as you tried to sink deeper into Jody’s couch. Dean’s brow furrowed at you and Claire just simply stared while Alex and Jody looked between you and Sam. 

“Fine.” You mumbled sadly, avoiding eye contact with either of your brothers. Your eyes still remained on the floor and the awkward tension in the room suddenly made you feel like your gut was twisting. 

“You sure, sweetheart?” Jody asked kindly, glancing at Sam when she realized you weren’t going to look at her. “You want to talk about it?”

“M’fine.” You said again, voice cracking as you stood up and felt a few tears flow down your face as you walked to the front door, opening it and slipping out and closing the door behind you. You stood outside and sat on the porch, covering your face in your hands and letting out a sob. 

What was so different about you and Claire? You both hunted, you were both the same age, you both did okay in school, plus various other things. Was she just better than you in general? Did Dean ever even want to have a sister in the first place, or maybe he just wanted someone to be close with without all the extra baggage?

You pressed your face harder against your hands to try and muffle your sobs when the front door squeaked open. You didn’t realize it when the door shut and someone sat next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. You involuntarily flinched and the hand slipped away, causing you to pull your hands down and see Dean sitting next to you, looking concerned. 

You sniffled and Dean opened his mouth to say something but closed it just as fast. You were semi-grateful since you didn’t really want to talk right now, especially to Dean. You pulled your knees closer to you and folded your arms across them, placing your head in your arms.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean asked, and you shook your head in between your arms. “Okay…” Dean said awkwardly, placing a hand on your back and rubbing up and down softly. 

After a few moments of silence and Dean rubbing your back, you got up enough courage to speak.

“I feel like you hate me…” You said into your arms, your voice muffled from the sleeves of your hoodie. 

“What?” Dean asked in concern, his hand stopping movements on your back as you reluctantly lifted your head to look at him with a tear streaked face and puffy eyes. 

“I feel like you hate me.” You repeated, stealing a glance at Dean. “Not, like, all the time! Just, whenever your around… ugh…” You struggled with getting your words out and shoved your face in your hands again. 

“You…” Dean said slowly, trying not to make you cry again. “You think I hate you?” 

“No!” You said, taking your face out of your hands, and looking at your brother while letting out a sigh. “I don’t think you totally hate me, just when…” You let out an exasperated sigh and looked at Dean, whose face was filled with worry.

“When Claire’s around.” You finished. You looked at Dean, who nodded slowly at you, trying to get you to continue so he could understand. 

“It’s just, I’m always excluded whenever we come over here and you hang out with her. And then the days after you’ll barely talk to me.” There was silence as you talked, Dean listening intently to you so he could understand your point. 

She’ll always be more important to you. I get that now. But.. just… am I just not good enough for you or something?” You asked seriously, feeling bad after because of the way Dean’s face fell and turned into one of hurt. 

“(Y/N),” Dean started, looking at you sadly, “I can never hate you. You’re my baby sister. And Claire isn’t more important than you. You’re the only teenage girl I need in my life. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Just…” You let out a sigh and started to twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “I don’t know. You’ve known her longer and she just seems cool and more like you than I am and-” 

“Hey.” Dean said softly, cutting you off suddenly. “You’re your own person, (Y/N). You don’t have to be like me for me to like hanging out with you. She’s never going to replace you, you know that, right? Do you know why?” 

You stayed silent as Dean placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Because you’re my baby sister. And no one else can fill that job but you.” 

You looked at Dean with tear filled eyes and sniffled, him wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. 

“Sorry I was stupid…” You mumbled, burying your face into the leather of Dean’s jacket. 

“You’re not stupid, kiddo.” Dean replied, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “But you know that I love you, right?” 

“Yeah, I know” You sniffled, wrapping your free arm around Dean. “I love you too, Dean.”

<><><><><>

I’m legit half asleep while writing this and it’s so bad but I hope you guys enjoy, haha.

Brother, Mine (Loki/Thor x reader)

Requests: Would you do a fic where the reader is good friends with Thor, maybe a part-time avenger, and after the Dark World, (like the Dr. Strange after credit scene) Loki is just kinda messing around Earth in disguise and meets her and falls for her? (oddly this idea reminded me of Megamind) thanks bonnie, hope requests aren’t too overwhelming this time! 

Request open!!! *happy dance* Can I request a funny ThorxReader when the reader has a last name like Coulson, Johnson ect and Thor is confused why it’s not -dottir. And everybody try to explain it doesn’t work like this on Midgard but Thor still doesn’t get it. Thank you for considering it !!

“But it makes little sense to me,” Thor protested with a shake of his head, fueling the chuckles of the group around him, “the surnames used here in Midgard in no way follow the traditional familial standard.  I am son of Odin, therefore I am Thor Odinson.  The men in your realm seem to have lost their regard for this use of honor, as have the females, who should end their surname in dottir in the same manner.  It must be incredibly disrespectful to your families to have lost this practice.”

Keep reading

Weekend At Happy’s

Too Young to Be Super, Too Smart Not to Be: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Paring: Tony Stark & Child!Reader

Tags: female reader, child reader, set during and after Captain America: Civil War, childhood, divorce, feels, angst, fluff. 

Summary: You’re the child of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, and everyone is away doing adult things without you. All you want is someone to play dolls with.

Word Count: 1,717

Current Date: 2017-07-12


Originally posted by iwantcupcakes


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FIC: Go Easy

Rating: T
Pairing: Vetra Nyx & Sidera Nyx; f!Ryder/Vetra Nyx, pre-relationship
Word Count: 1,794
Summary: Sometimes, Vetra wished she could see herself the way Sid saw her. Maybe then she would have the nerve to do something about Ryder, instead of just hopefully, hopelessly waiting.
Notes: Post-‘Means and Ends’ (Vetra’s loyalty mission). No major main plot spoilers.
Also on: AO3


Took a few days for Sid to cool down. Took a few days for Vetra, too. Every contact who didn’t pick up, or gave her a hard time—it needled her a little, all over again. She’d spent time, dammit, not to mention resources, getting favors from those people. It wasn’t like she had to start from scratch, but the dent was there.

She saw Ryder’s side of it, though, as the days passed. That Sid was just trying to do something good. Those hazel eyes of hers soft when she said it. Ryder wasn’t usually soft, human or not, but Vetra got the feeling she was a marshmallow with her brother. It Scott pulled the genome for cats out of storage, Ryder would probably just laugh.

But that was Ryder for you: did her job, but didn’t dare take anything too seriously. Looked like a coping mechanism to Vetra. Ryder had been through a lot, the past couple months.

Before she could indulge that worry any further—she did too much indulging, anyway—Sid called. Finally.

“Hey, kiddo,” Vetra said.

Keep reading

Black Satin

summary - patton paints anxiety’s nails and confessions and fluff ensue

pairing - moxiety

word count - 704

warnings - parks and rec spoilers i guess..?

a/n - okay so this is a drabble idea i literally came up with two hours ago and had to write bc who doesn’t need anxiety with nail polish am i right


“Tell me again.”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me again. Just — say it one more time.”

Patton looks up from his current position—bent slightly at an angle over Anxiety’s nails, black polish in hand—and flashes Anxiety a wide, understanding smile (he was always so patient with Anxiety, even when he didn’t deserve it; it was kind of the best thing in the world). “Kiddo—" he stops when Anxiety makes a face, clears his throat and says, in a gentler tone, “An. You are the most menacing, deadly, horribly terrifying person I know — in the best way possible, of course!”

The corner of Anxiety’s lips twitch fondly: the closest thing he can manage to a smile while getting his nails painting. “Thanks,” he mumbles quietly, attention returning to his hands. They had been working on Anxiety’s ability to try new things without constant affirmation of who he was supposed to be, but for now, Patton was happy to oblige.

“And hey,” the brighter side chirps suddenly, mid-stroke on a nail, “just remember how cool you look with this stuff on! I mean, know I couldn’t pull off—" he stops to check the bottles label, “Black Satin by Chanel!” The beam Patton gives him is so infectious that his heart, to his annoyance, flutters helplessly.

Anxiety wants to smile, wants to hug him and tell him how amazing he is and seriously what would he do without him — but for now he shrugs, picks at the bottom of his hoodie and says, “Yeah.” From the look Patton gives him, he thinks maybe he understands.

“So I was re-watching Parks and Recreation today,” Patton says conversationally, waiting for Anxiety’s glance of acknowledgment to continue, “and I realized something.”

Anxiety peeks up at him, blowing the bangs out of his eyes. “What’d you realize?”

“So, y’know how Andy and April are total opposites? Like night and day, like black and white, like, uh…oh! Like up and—"

“Pat,” he cuts him off softly, amusement pulling a chuckle from his lips, “What’s your point?”

“Oh, right!” With wide eyes, he rocks back on his heels, placing the polish brush back in the bottle. “Well, I was thinking they’re kind of like us! Um, ‘cause your dark and sarcastic like April,” he pauses to absentmindedly brush a stray hair from Anxiety’s face, making the darker trait sputter in surprise, “and, well, I’m annoyingly happy and bright like Andy!”

“It’s not annoying,” Anxiety says, purely out of instinct. Patton looks at him fondly, a pleased smile on his lips.

To fill the silence that follows, Anxiety teases, slightly sarcastically, “So what, does that mean we’re gonna fall in love and have a shotgun wedding, too?”

Much to Anxiety’s surprise, Patton’s mouth slams shut mid-breath, and a faint coloring appears on his cheeks. “Maybe,” he mumbles faintly—almost unintelligibly—under his breath; Anxiety’s brows shoot up in shock, but before he can say anything the brighter side picks up the bottle of nail polish and returns to Anxiety’s nails, hands shaking slightly.

“Pat,” he says, removing the brush from his hands when he accidentally paints a black streak down Anxiety’s hand, “Pat.“ Patton looks up at him, eyes wild and afraid. “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, leaning forward slightly, “…me too.” It wasn’t a lot, but it was the best he could do and for now, at least, it would have to be enough.

“That’s good,” he breathes, a relieved grin gracing his lips, “that’s really good.” A moment passes where nothing exists but Patton’s warm, friendly brown eyes, and then he backs away, blinking rapidly and saying, “Gosh, kidd―An, I’m sorry, you really don’t need this right now — you were doing so good and now you’re the one comforting me―"

“No, hey, it’s fine,” he rushes, swallowing hard, “Look, it’s not like ― um. We don’t have to, I mean, if it’s…okay with you, for now, then this is―”

“Enough.” Patton reaches forward, grabbing one of Anxiety’s hands. “An, this is more than enough.”

Anxiety manages a small grin, passes him the nail polish and for once, in his life, relaxes under the careful hands of Morality.

”…So does this mean I have to have your baby in the plot-twist of a weird, plot-hole filled series finale?”

“Anxiety!”

17. A Love Bite (from this list)

nsfwish in things that are implied/stated to have happened — be careful kiddos \o\

Oh, was Adrien’s first thought when he woke up that morning, that was a good dream.

Really good, was his second, tinged with mild confusion and backing the tight, rough hum that escaped him on a sigh. He’d fallen asleep in his day clothes somehow, but even the scratch of the seams and the way his jeans were digging into his hips couldn’t put a damper on the buzz of languid pleasure that suffused him from head to toe.

His alarm went off in his pocket, something Adrien only distantly noted as he pulled it out and silenced it, head deliciously empty.

That had to have been some dream.

Keep reading

Ch-Ch-Changes

Wow that’s a cheesy title, and I only partially apologize. 

SO. This is my first Sanders Sides fic. I’m kind of excited about it, but this lil’ monster is an angsty mess, so we’ll see how it goes.

This fic is set to take place immediately after the filming of the “Making Changes” video (which I really love, so I have no idea why it had to be that one that inspired this nonsense. Also, hence the title), so Virgil is referred to as Anxiety here. I know, I hate it, too, but I’m being true to the timeline. (Edit: I JUST realized I called him “Virgil” like 12 times in this, so sorry I can’t even stick to my own author’s note.)

Summary: It’s not unusual for Anxiety to have issues with a video, but this time, things seem a little more tense than normal. As can be expected, the ever-lovable Patton swoops in and just wants to get to the bottom of what’s eating Anxiety.

Word Count: 1,855 (ish)

Pairing: Platonic Moxiety (MoralityxAnxiety)

Warnings: Angst, Self-Deprecation, Yelling, Crying, Mild cursing, Depression-like/Suicidal-like speech (ex: You’d be better off without me, kind of stuff), Mention of Spiders (please let me know if I missed any)

Also, because she was precious enough to say she’d like to be, I’m taking the lovely @ssides whose writing first inspired me to actually type this out. 

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Down With The Flu

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3,460

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, the flu, things associated with the flu, sam being a total sweetheart, fluff

Prompt: When the reader comes down with the flu, Sam’s right by her side, nursing her back to health even if it means seeing some of the worst sides of the girl he’s been falling for. 

A/N: I finally decided to finish this fic and post it. I wrote this back on New Years when I got sick, so everything in this is what I experienced then. This is also slightly dedicated to @impala-dreamer as she is down with the flu right now. Get well soon Beka and enjoy some Sammy taking care of you. (:

This is is. This is how you were going to die: tossing and turning in bed with what felt like a balloon swelling in your stomach. You were going to die, alone, at three a.m and nobody would discover you until probably late afternoon. You’d be rotting for probably 12 hours before someone found you. You were sure of it.

Between the constant tossing and turning and general uncomfortableness you had managed to doze off for another couple of hours. “Surely,” you thought the second you woke up and everything felt okay, “I’m dead.” And then the upset stomach returned.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any father Ushijima headcanons? like the type of father he would be 💛 thank youuu

As a matter of fact, I do, anon. It’s a problem because I am so fucking weak for soft!Ushi that it’s sort of an issue (ask admin Alyx lolol) so please enjoy
~Admin Emma


  • His parents were sort of low-key absent when he was growing up. He was sort of close to his dad, but he’s not really around anymore, and his mother basically stopped hugging him once he turned five or six. It really affected him, and he vowed he would never be like that with his own kids.
  • He missed the birth of his first child. He kept his phone on him, but after two false alarms during an important match, he put his phone on silent and left it in his bag. By the time the match was over, his son was already born. You tried to reassure him about it after the fact, but he’s always felt awful about it.
  • He spoils his children with affection. All through their newborn phase, if they were crying, he picked them up. He just wants to hold them and protect them always. It low key breaks his heart when his kids get too big to pick up anymore.
  • He’s a sucker for the newborn smell. There’s something special about the way babies’ heads smell, and you catch him with his nose buried in his baby's’ hair all the time. It soothes him in a lot of ways.
  • He has 100% fallen asleep on the couch with the baby on the chest. It may or may not have been your phone background for a long time. You sent Tendou a picture and the only response you got was a series of screams.
  • He becomes super-dad pretty quickly. He has a sixth sense for when his kids are getting into mischief; he can catch a thrown or spit-out pacifier in mid-air without looking up from his tablet; he can silence bickering with a look. Sadly, he has no advice for his friends with kids. It’s all very instinctual.
  • Sometimes, he’ll watch his kids sleep because they are just the most amazing things in the world? They’re like a piece of you and him and he helped make them and they came out of the person he loves most in the world and he loves them so much. He sometimes gets a little overwhelmed and cries a bit.
  • He is super supportive of his kids in anything and everything they want to do. If they like volleyball, even better, but if not, then that’s cool too. He is at every recital, every art show, every game… he does his best to show his kids that he cares.
  • When he does bedtime stories, he high key does the voices. It’s a little silly but very sweet and his kids always laugh.
  • He allows himself to become a human jungle gym. He’s strong enough he can support the weight, and the children are having a ball, so he doesn’t really mind. He’s also very big, so he can imagine it’s fun for them.
  • Even if he’s just come home from training or a game and he’s exhausted, he’s always 100% down for playtime with the kiddos, and he follows all their rules. If they’re playing pretend, he plays along. If they say he’s the bad guy, he puts on his best villain smile for them. If he’s the princess, then damn it he will wear the damn plastic crown and he’ll be the princess (even if his princess voice is lacking.)
Home: Part Three

Request: Can I request one where the avengers raid a hydra base and find an 18 yr old girl covered in blood and dirt? She refuses to talk but goes with them without a fight. Nat cleans her up and cuts her hair and recognizes her as Clints daughter that vanished years ago. When Clint gets to the room the girl breaks down and runs to him immediately remembering her dad.

Plus: Hi! So I really love protected and I thought maybe you could write something were Bucky is new to the tower and still only talks to Steve until he meets the reader who also had a shitty past … they fall in love and heal each other or something … just an idea.

Pairings: Clint x daughter!reader, bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,547

Warnings: mentions of abuse, sads, angst, also some fluff

A/N: Here ya go guys, I really hope you like it!!

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven) (Part Eight) (Part Nine)

Bucky left you by the commons to go get a shower, smiling as you wrote ‘thank you’ on his arm. You were feeling slightly better now, and decided that you really should eat something.

Keep reading

What’s in a Name?

Creativity realizes something while watching Thomas audition. Why don’t they have names?

BONUS - Very Vigilant V

Middle school was bringing a whole new world of excitement into Thomas’ life. New friends, no interests, new feelings. It had also started to change things among the three sides that lived in his mind space. 

Logic had taken to wearing a normal vest instead of the sweater made one. The smart side has started to become a little less cheerful and more focused on his work. Heart started to switch between a cardigan over a t-shirt and his normal sweater. The emotional side had been going through many mood swings; one moment he could be smiling and the next wanting to cry. It was very odd. 

Creativity had not changed much. He still was dressed in his Peter Pan costume and refused to wear shoes. He had gotten taller and it showed with how high his shorts were getting. He did not have time to update his own wardrobe because there was a more important job to focus on. One being that Thomas had signed up for Theater. 

The side was always at attention every time Thomas did something for this new passion. More than often the other two would find him on the couch in the main hub watching the outside world as Thomas practiced. Heart would sometimes join him but would get distracted and go do something else. 

Today was one of those days where Creativity was glued to the screen alone in the hub. It was, after all, a big day for Thomas. Today was the auditions for the school musicals and Thomas needed his creative side’s full attention. 

The pre-teen watched as Thomas squirmed in his seat as he waited for his name to be called. That had been happening a lot lately. Thomas had been nervous for many things. Talking to people, doing something, and going up on stage. 

The squeak of a door dragged Creativity’s attention away from the screen to look around the room. Nothing seemed off. The door to the basement was closed tight, Heart’s door was wide open, and he had not seen anyone leave through the door to the subconscious his kingdom. 

The boy frowned and glanced at all the doors one more time before he looked back up at the screen. Thomas was now on stage and seemed to have relaxed a little. 

“Hi. I’m Thomas Sanders and today I will be auditioning for the part of…”

Creativity frowned and tuned out the last of the introductory line. A new thought, or idea, began to bubble up inside his head. He wanted to get up and ask one of the older sides about it as soon as he thought it but Thomas needed him. 

He focused on the current events in Thomas’ life and hummed along with the solo. His mind halfway on making sure Thomas did an amazing job preforming and the other half on his new and important question. 

Keep reading

Itsy, Bitsy Spider

Requested

________________________________________________________________

“Well, well,” Tony said. “Lookin’ good, Spidey. Y/N.”

Peter blushed the way he always did whenever Tony complimented him (even if the compliment was slightly sarcastic). “Th-thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“I usually don’t get all mushy, but honestly, I’m very proud of you two. Graduating high school is a big accomplishment. Especially considering your… extracurricular activities,” Tony said, shooting a wink to Peter.

“Will you come to our graduation party, Mr. Stark?” you asked. “We’re having cake. And punch. And I’m pretty sure someone will try to spike it.”

“As impressive as that sounds, I’ve got plans. Y’know, superhero multi-millionaire plans. But thanks for the invite, kiddo.”

You and Peter watched as Tony disappeared through the crowd.

“Don’t worry,” Peter said. “He’ll… he’s really nice most of the time. And if he weren’t so busy, I’m sure he’d come.”

________________________________________________________________

Unbeknownst to you, Tony had been keeping an eye on you ever since… well, ever since you and Peter had gotten together. That continued to be the case, even after you graduated and entered the ‘semi-adulthood’ stage.

“There you two are,” he said, joining your table at the café.

“Mr. Stark! What are you doing here?” Peter asked.

“Joining you two for lunch, obviously. So, what’s good here?” Tony picked up a menu, glanced at it quickly before tossing it back on the table, a small grimace on his face.

“What’s your ulterior motive?” you asked, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s a big, important superhero multi-millionaire doing here in a small café with two teenagers?”

Tony straightened his shoulders. “Fine. Straight to the point. I like that.” He turned to Peter, hitching a thumb towards you. “I like her.”

Peter laughed slightly. “M-me too, Mr. Stark.”

“Look, you two are obviously in this for the long run. And since Spidey here is one of us, I’d like to formally offer you a room at STARK Tower.”

“Oh, Mr. Stark, we could never impose on you like that,” Peter said.

“Have you seen the size of the tower? You won’t be imposing. There are times when I go for days without seeing some of the others.”

Peter looked over at you. “Well… that’s quite the offer, Mr. Stark. Y/N and I will talk it over and in a few days–”

“We’d love to,” you interrupted. “When can we move in?”

________________________________________________________________

A week later, you and Peter stood in your new suite in STARK Tower. All of your belongings were unpacked, thanks to a few little robots from Tony (and actual help from Wanda and Steve).

“So…” you said, looking around.

“Yeah,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We… live together.”

“Yeah, yeah we do.”

“You don’t… regret this, do you?”

“No! No, of course not.” Peter blanched. “Do you?”

You shook your head. “I mean, this is all so quick and strange and… I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but… this feels right.”

Peter smiled. “I know, right?! I mean… yeah, of course.”

Tony knocked on the door. “Hey, lovebirds. You good?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark. And thank you so much for letting us come here,” Peter said.

Tony nodded. “What about you, Y/N? You good?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Not feeling… ill?”

“Uh… no?”

“Okay, just making sure.”

You watched as Tony disappeared down the hall. “That was… weird.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Peter said. “He just… wants the best for us.”

________________________________________________________________

A few weeks later, your stomach began to turn at the mere thought of food. You emptied your stomach multiple times before finally feeling like you might be able to move away from the toilet. Peter looked up as you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm. Maybe. Just don’t mention anything… edible.” You moved to the closet, pulling a pair of jeans out.

“Maybe you should just… stay in bed today.”

“No, no. I’ll be okay. Let me just… go throw up again.”

Somehow, you made it down to the living area. The team greeted you and offered you breakfast. You managed to hold back your vomit, settling for lemon tea. After ‘breakfast’, you made your way back up to your room to find a small box sitting on the bathroom sink.

‘Where did this come from?’ you thought, picking it up.

Normally, you wouldn’t have even considered opening the box. But now…

Peter was sitting on the bed when you opened the bathroom door. “Were you throwing up again?”

“Not this time. But I was doing something even more unfortunate.”

“What?”

“Peeing…”

Peter laughed. “Everyone does that, Y/N.”

“On a pregnancy test.”

“Oh?” Peter’s face dropped. “Oh! Oh. Oh… no. Wait… what did it say?”

You held the stick up. “I’m… pregnant.”

Peter’s mouth dropped open. He blubbered for a few moments like a fish. Then he jumped up, wrapping his arms around you. “Okay. Cool. Right. You’re gonna have a baby. No, wait, we’re gonna have a baby! Oh, boy. This is…”

“A mistake.”

Peter pulled back. “Is… is that really what you think?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I just… this is so weird.” You looked up at Peter. “Can we really do this?”

“I’m sure we can. Probably. Maybe. Oh, God, this is all happening so fast!”

________________________________________________________________

Tony looked up as you and Peter entered the lab. “What’s with the long faces? Wifi not working in your room?”

Peter swallowed. “Um, Mr. Stark, Y/N and I… have something to tell you….”

“What’s that?”

“Um… well, you see… we kind of… well, I mean…”

“Spit it out, Underoos.”

“Pregnant.”

Tony said nothing.

“What I mean to say is, Y/N’s pregnant. Because of me.”

“I know how biology works, son.”

“Right. Of course, you do.”

Tony nodded once, turning back to the helmet he was tinkering with.

“Um… Mr. Stark?”

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you… I mean… are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Because we’re young and irresponsible and how dare we assume you would be willing to open your home to a child and–”

“Enough, Y/N,” Tony said, looking up. “Look, I’ve known you were pregnant since basically the moment it happened.”

You and Peter shared a look. “What?”

“JARVIS is able to do incredibly in-depth body scans. I know how teenage bodies and minds work. I figured this would happen sooner or later so… I kept an eye on you.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Right.”

“When JARVIS alerted me of the fertilization happening in Y/N, I sought you out and offered you a place to stay here. You two will need help with the baby. ‘It takes a village’, right? Who better to be your village than a team of superheroes?”

You and Peter shared another look. “Th-thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“Please don’t talk about ‘fertilization’ and me again,” you said.

________________________________________________________________

“Oh, my God.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you going to say anything else?”

“I… I don’t know. This is all so… oh, my God.”

You shook your head. “Come here.”

Peter carefully sat down on the hospital bed next to you. You placed the little bundle of blankets into his arms, watching as both Peter and Ben squirmed uncomfortably. Soon, both settled, figuring out how to function with the other. Peter looked as though he was holding on for dear life.

“You okay?”

“I just… don’t want to hurt him.”

“You won’t. You’re doing just fine.”

“Really? ‘Cause I feel like everything’s going wrong. Or it’ll go wrong very soon.”

“Shhh. Just… breathe.”

Tony poked his head in the room. “I hear there’s a new lifeform in here.”

“You make him sound as if he’s an alien,” you said.

“Jury’s still out,” Tony said, stepping in. He peered into Peter’s arms. “Cute. Kinda squishy, but still.”

“Aw, you hear that Ben? Uncle Tony thinks you’re cute.”

“You want to hold him?” Peter asked.

“I’ll pass until he can hold his head up on his own. And even then, there are no guarantees,” Tony said. “I just came by to tell you that Steve is making sure the final touches are put in the nursery. Everything will be ready when you three come home tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Really.”

“Anytime, Underoos.” Tony reached down, squeezing your arm. “Ms. Underoos. Underoos Mini.”