#harley enjoys every single moment in this suit

[r3djywhyn0t]

if its art prompts you crave, i bestow upon ye:

draw the rogues as different rogues. dr jonathan crane, aka the penguin. pamela isley, better known as harley quinn. shes the girlfriend of the joker, dr harleen quinzel. jervis tetch as the riddler. oswald cobblepot as the mad hatter. edward nashton as the scarecrow. is this anything

This is such a cool concept.😭 Please keep this up

So anyways here they are!

(Sorry i didn't have enough energy/time to colour so its like this💥)

((Also i added some silly things in the tags if you want to read ))

#edward nygma #edward nashton #the riddler #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #pamela isley #poison ivy #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #jervis tetch #the mad hatter #oswald cobblepot #confession: i hate oswald a lot #(I'm sorry) #harley enjoys every single moment in this suit #ivy is conserned with harleys costume because its actually really uncomfortable (she will make her a new one asap) #jervis was supposed to wear edds hat but he didn't want to take off his #so he wore both. #Jonathan doesn't like this suit its itchy and has a lot of feathers in it. #Oswald hates that jervis' suit has so many layers. its so hot. he's having a headache #edd is just weirded out by the fact that crane has a literal rope around his neck. like he's just asking to get choked to death. how kinky/ #rogues gallery #batman rogues #batman fanart #dc #yay #redjy draws requests!

[gritsandbrits]

In light of recent news over the passing of voice actress Arleen Sorkin, I wish to reflect on the impact of Harley Quinn on my life.

When I was a kid I grew with Harley. From getting fired from a tv show for giving questionable advice, as her backstory in the 2004 cartoon The Batman, to falling in mad love with her own patient as is the origin story in the 92 animated and subsequent media, Harley has such a big role in Batman lore I don't remember a single time where she wasn't involved. Sometimes I wonder what batman mythos was like before her inclusion.

The first thing that drew me to Harley was her design. Red and black the colors of danger which she was. But there was an added playfulness, that she genuinely enjoyed being herself. She was also VERY hilarious and at times out of pocket. Child Me was amazed. Did I want to be her? Not necessarily. But she did look like someone I'd hang out with.

The meta origin of Harley is just as fascinating. The creators of BTAS saw a performance of Arleen in a clown costume. From there inspiration leapt off the pages onto the big screen. Unlike most of the cast Harley didn't originate from the comics. She was created exclusively for the show, an OC if you will. OCs tend to have a mixed reputation. But Harley's concept and execution was so perfect, she almost feels like she could've been a real character in the comics.

And real she became!

Introduced as a psychiatrist, after receiving Joker as a patient, Dr. Harleen Quinzel begins to fall in love with him; and down a path to iconoclastic doom. Her love for Joker is obsessive, hilarious shallow, horrible but also downright entertaining to watch. I enjoyed every moment she was on screen: I still quote "rev up your Harley" to this day! I see her despair, her goofy outlook and morbid ruthlessness. I wanted her to get comeuppance but at the same time I can't help but feel sorry for her.

Joker abuses her, ignores her, and only complements her when she does something good for him. While the makes how awful their relationship clear, there are a good amount of fans who sees the pair as a glamorous whirlwind romance a la Sonny and Brenda or Jane and Mr Rochester. While such fantasies may seem morbid I don't blame them. No matter how horrible Harley is there is a tiny unavoidable spot that aches for her to win. Or at least see Joker for the monster he really is. While Harley is often held accountable for her actions her arc shows that no one deserves to be abused.

Arleen's performance played a major role in brining Harley to life. She nailed her weaknesses and strengths with such a sincere note that elicits pity, humor and shock at the same time. And of course that ear candy of the New Jersey accent that set the standard for future VAs. Whenever I look at a picture of Harley I hear Arleen. Not to say the other VAs aren't bad, but Arleen's performance is that iconic I can't help but think of her!

Over the years Harley grew apart from Clown Prince of Crime. She got her own spinoff comics, made appearances in other DC media. She even gotten her own tv show which sees the DC universe through her eyes. Harley has marginally healthier romances, primarily Poison Ivy (this isn't to say that pairing doesn't have it's share of toxic moments). The Harlivy ship is a fan favorite but even without shipping and the wars, Harley still shines bright as the Bat Signal.

In a way Harley's descent and eventual rise back to normalcy reminds me of my own struggles. I wasn't a happy child growing up, I've made a lot of mistakes and bad choices. To see a person like Harley work to take back control of her life, makes me feel a bit better for my own prospects. Of course I wouldn't torture a kid to near insanity or blow up a whole city but I can at least put my energy towards something constructive. Harley shows people like me thay we can be more than just screwups if we try.

Of course I can't forget Harley's design. The red&black suit is an icon by itself and inspires similar designs in and outside comics. I could talk all day about how cool her design is from a show and historical perspective but that would take me all day. While I prefer her classic palette, her recent blue and pinks aren't bad either and show just how far she's come out of Joker's shadow. It's even to the point where when, I see something black and red and white I have to point it out and say "Harley would love that outfit!"

Nowadays I complain about the oversaturation of Harley quinn (seriously what was DC thinking taking a team started by a disabled character to reclaim her agency) and overshadowing other cool DC villains. But I would be lying of I say she didn't leave an impact. And it's all thanks to Arleen Sorkin for breathing life into a character that proves you don't need to be be from "the comics" to be considered cool.

Thank you Arleen! May her memory be a blessing - Grits.

#arleen sorkin #harley quinn #essay #dc comics #btas #voice actors #batman the animated series #birds of prey #harley quinn show #characters #may her memory be a blessing

[tommydarlings]

Jarley Quinn ↬ t.h

A/N: Wow, one of the longest things i ever wrote! got this idea after i watched the joker and Harley Quinn birds of prey and i thought it would be nice to write it... I hope this doesn´t flop, sorry if it´s crap. anyway, enjoy! :) ily,liz <3 

pairing: Tom Holland x reader 

warnings: violent actions, mentions of nearly blowjob?, swearing

w/c: 1.8k 

Requests: OPEN

Summary: Your win an Oscar for your amazing role as Harley Quinn´s and Joker´s daughter, but you didn´t knew that Tom Holland aka your role model would be there too. 

this handwriting = actions and dialogues in the movie

masterlist || taglist || requests || blurb event

„Guys, i think that i´m gonna pass out“ Tom said as they all took their seats in the huge hall.

„Calm down Tom, it´s okay, your gonna win this“ Harry told his brother.

Today was the day.  Today were the oscars. And Tom got nominated for the best leading role in an action / psycho / R rated movie. Cherry.

And the best thing is, when he should win the oscar, then their gonna show cherry on a huge screen in the hall. That´s sick.

Leonarde Dicaprio, Jennifer Lawrence and a lot of other amazing and unbelievable good actors are gonna see his movie then. Sounds like a dream to him.

„Thomas, son, it´s fine, we all believe in you! Your performance in Cherry was amazing and even the Russo Brothers said that it was an oscar worthy performance! Find someone to beat that!“ His mother, Nikki, said to her son with a small laugh.

Just when Tom wanted to answer, the Russo brothers came and both sat down next to Tom.

„Hello, guys!“ Anthony said.

„Hello, how are you?“ Dominic asked them.

„Were good, and excited“ Joe told Dom.

„And i´m fucking nervous“ Tom whisperd.

„Hey, hey, it´s okay to be nervous. Your gonna win this, your gonna rock your speech and in the end everyone will clap for your performance after they all saw the movie!“ Anthony told tom.

Tom could only nod before a man came on the stage and started to talk,

„Hello Ladies and Gentleman! I hope you all feel well and excited!“

The man went on with his speech and after about 15 minutes talking about some random stuff, he finally said the words that the entire hall craved for.

„And now i´m gonna announce the winner for the oscar in the category action / psycho / R rated movie…“

Tom was shaking, Nikki and dominic prayed for their son and Tom´s brothers tried to calm him down a little bit.

„Calm down“ Joe whisperd to Tom.

„I c-can´t“ he stuttered quietly.

The whole hall was so silent, it was creepy.

„Y/N Y/L/N!“ the man on the stage said into the micro.

Tom had his head hung low after his name wasn´t said.

Everyone started to clap, but when they saw who came on the stage, everyone looked very confused.

„What the-„ Tom said.

A young women, maybe about 21 – 22 years came on the stage with a beautiful suit on her body.

 „Hold on, is this the wrong catergory?“ Tom said.

„No, it´s the action / psycho / R rated movie category“ Anthony answerd.

„How can she-„ before Tom could finish his sentence, you started to speak,

„Hello Ladies and Gentleman, omg i can´t belive this, sorry, I won´t steal your time, i just want to thank the cast of this amazing movie and my family and friends who support me since we started filming this masterpiece. Thank you so much and enjoy the rest of the night, love you“ you finished.

„And now, let´s watch the amazing movie of the oscar winner! Jarley Quinn!“ the man said with a huge grin into the mic.

„Jarley Quinn? Isn´t it Joker?“ Harry said.

„Or Harley Quinn?“ Sam said.

„Boys, let´s just watch it“ Nikki told her son´s.

They said a quick and quiet ´okay, sorry´ before the movie began.

Jarley Quinn was written in thick and big letters on the screen, then you appeared onto the huge screen.

You stood infront of a mirror and looked at your reflection in the mirror infront of you. You took each side of your mouth with your fingers and spread them into a big smile before you let me fall and started to cry, tears were running down your cheeks as you still looked into the mirror where you could saw your painted face and green dyed hair. You always painted yourself just like your father and mother did. And the hair were another thing you got from your father. It was funny and interesting.

After this little opening, you went to two graves with the names Joker and Harley Quinn written on them.

„So that are her parents“ Tom whisperd to himself.

„Obviosly“ Harry huffed.

„I´m so sorry mamma and daddy, i´m gonna make you proud and i´m gonna make the entire world remember your name, and my name i swear“ you said.

And then, then the scenes came where everyone understood why you got the oscar in the first place. Even the Russo brothers were impressed.

„Fuck“ you whisperd to yourself as you saw that you need money for the pills you were fucking addicted to. You don´t even need all these pills, but you basically craved them with passion.

„Not again, please not fucking again“ you yelled through your apartment as you tried to find some money anywhere in the living room or kitchen. You even looked in the bathroom.

„Well, i don´t have another option, so“ you said to yourself in a slightly bitchy way.

You grapped your weapon and put it into your weapon holder that was covered up by your red suit jacked from your father.

Just a few minutes later you stood with a bag full of money, a weapon in your other Hand and huge smile on your face that is covered in the iconic Joker makeup in the middle of the bank while every single person around was on their knees and begged for their lifes.

„I won´t hurt anyone, i swear okay? I just wanted the money, but before i leave, i would like to say something, of course if i´m allowed to“ you said.

The bank women nodded quickly with her head before you said your last sentence,

„You look so good on your knees, just like i did yesterday“ you said with an amused laugh before you shot the person that was kneeling infront of you right between their eyes.

You laughed hysterically while you ran out of the bank with the bag and your beautiful weapon.

„Oh m-my g-good“ Nikki whisperd to herself with an shooked expression on her face.

„I mean, that was sick, but it was good“ Anthony said.

„That´s right“ Joe agreed.

„How has she done that with so much ease?!“ Tom whisper – screamed at himself.

After you swallowed your pills, you decieded to go into the club and have a good time, well at least you wanted to have a good time.

The second you stepped into the club, people went silent and didn´t dared to move. But you didn´t liked it.

„What? C´mon, go ahead with your talking about whatever you were talking about! I won´t stop you!“ you laughed.

You really weren´t here to stop anyone, so you just orderd a drink and looked through the club. You stopped your gaze at one specific couch in the corner of the club, a man, trying to rape a poor little young girl.

„Let´s have some fun“ you whisperd to yourself before you took a huge sip from your martini and walked to the scene.

„Can i help you?“ The man asked as he saw you standing infront of him while he held the poor girl in a tight grip on his lap.

„No, but can i help you, little girl?“

„N-no“ she stuttered.

„Okay“ you shrugged before you walked away.

Hold on, let me correct, about to walk away.

You punched him with your fist right on his nose.

„Ow! What the f-„ before he could finish his sentence, you grapped your weapon and hit his temple with it.

He fell unconscious onto the floor and you laughed again in a quiet creppy way before the girl ran into your arms.

„Woah, woah,woah, i only saved you from getting raped, not more“ you said.

„You saved my life, thank you“ the girl said.

„No, i saved your virginity“ you said before you removed yourself from her grip and went to the exit. Before you could exit the loud and sweaty club, a young but confidence looking men grapped your wrist.

„Hello beauty“ he growled.

„Hello, with what can i help you mister?“ you said with a smile on your face that was still full of the iconic makeup of your father.

„How about you help me with the little problem down there“ he said as he looked down to his own…crotch.

„Of course! Your house?“ you answerd with a little smirk.

„Mine“ he said before he dragged you into a car.

Just a few moments later, you were on your knees right infront of his naked figure while he sat comfortably on the couch.

„You gonna be daddy´s good girl?“ the man growled quietly.

You nodded with your head before you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue.

„Good“ he whisperd before he put his hand on the back of your head and directed your mouth to his dick.

But before he could get what he wanted, you pulled your dagger out from your dress pants and stabbed him in his… dick.

„Ohhhhh shit“ Tom hissed while he lightly held his crotch with his hands.

„Fuuuuuck, i know this isn´t real, but that fucking hurt“ Harry said.

„Okay, wow“ Anthony whisperd.

„OW FUCK, YOU LITTLE SLUT!“ the man yelled in pain.

You just started to laugh hysterically again and grapped your lighter, plus a tiny Matchstick from the pocket of your suit jacket.

„Hold on, wha- what the fuck a-are y-you doing, NO AHHH-!“ the man yelled before you lit the matchstick with fire and threw it on his naked body.

You still didn´t stopped laughing in this creppy and loud way as you walked out of the house with a cigarette between your red painted lips.

The next few scenes were violent, brutal, sexual and absolutely disgusting, but at the same time… definitely oscar worthy.

„Okay, that was unbelievable“ Harry said as the credits started to roll.

„You right, that was a true masterpiece“ Sam said with a tiny laugh.

„It w-was really g-good, yeah“ Tom said quietly.

After the movie ended, you got a lot of praises for your performance. Finally, The hollands and the russo brother´s found you and walked to you.

„That was amazing Miss Y/n!“ Anthony said.

„Oh please call me y/n, and thank you“

„Yeah, it was great“ Tom said quietly.

„Thank you so much- hold on, you are Nico walker from cherry right?“ you asked Tom.

„Yeah, you saw it?“ he asked.

„Of course! It was one of the best movies i ever saw!“

The two of you didn´t even noticed that Nikki, Dom, the twins, paddy and the russo brother´s already went as you went on with talking and praises.

„Would y-you maybe l-like to g-go out with me?“ Tom asked with an nervous voice.

„Of course!“ you asnwerd quickly.

„Really?!“

„Yeah, of course, i would actually love to Tommy“

The nickname melted his heart immerdiately.

„Okay, c-cool, uhm, can i have your number?“ Tom asked.

„Yes, here“

After they exchanged numbers, Tom went to his Family and the Russo brothers.

„And? How did it went?“ Harry asked with a little smirk.

„Got her number“  tom said proudly.

„No way! That´s amazing!“ Sam said.

„She is amazing“ tom said with smile.

He can´t wait to see you again.

-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-

Taglist:

@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @justafangirlduh​ @roseke​ 

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tomholland x reader #joker 2019 #harley quinn #movie #cherry

[immortalecstasy-blog]

The Man From Willow Creek - PART ONE Pairing: Mountain Man! Dean/Author! Reader

Y/N isn't in a good headspace, so her publisher sends her off to a remote cabin in the mountains in an attempt to rid her of all distractions and produce the highly anticipated first draft of her last book. But as she battles with snow, word counts, and surprise visitors, she learns that not every battle needs to be won, and that happy endings aren't always what we'd think.

WC ≈ 35,000 Total A/N: Thank you to@redweddingsandbowties for helping me to churn out over 25,000 words in a week and filtering out my typing fails. Warnings: Violence, Recreational Drug Use, 18+ Smut, Pet Death

Read on AO3 or...

“Miss, your total is $426.54. Miss?”

Y/N blinked and looked up at the cashier before taking her credit card out and handing it over.

“Are you stocking up for the end of the world?” The cashier asks as he runs her card. Y/N glances at the trolley loaded with a months’ worth of non-perishables and a dozen crates of beer.

“Something like that.” She tells him as she scribbles her signature on the store receipt.

The trolley is a bit on the heavy side as she heaves it across the car park towards her truck, but she manages it. When she’s got everything all loaded up beside the bags and bags of logs she’s worked up a sweat and has to unzip her coat as she climbs up into the driver’s seat. The truck feels empty without her little border terrier, and she finds herself wishing Harley could have been with her for this new adventure.

It had been her publisher’s idea to go on this little escapade, to get her out of the city, away from all the distractions. He cared more about the lack of pages than her deteriorating mental health, but for the sake of her sanity she had agreed that a month-long retreat into the mountains might do more for her writer’s block than being in her too quiet apartment. Her creative juices had bit the dust around the same time she’d had to make the heart-breaking decision to have Harley put to sleep.

His other idea had been to get a new dog. She’d used some extraordinarily strong language at that suggestion, so… mountains.

She feels fairly well prepared. Provisioned. Whatever. The cabin her publisher had found had been empty for a few years, and she had been warned that it may take a bit of work to get the generator working, and that there would be no mobile signal out there either. But she had been equipped with a satellite phone and the publisher had done some technological whizz-bang magic that meant she would be able to send and receive emails via satellite. She’d also done her own extensive research, which hopefully meant that once she arrived, she wouldn’t have to make the drive back to civilisation until her month was up and her first draft was on its way. She had churned out three books a year at some points, she could manage this.

She reaches over to the passenger seat to pick up one of her many notebooks, this one was her ‘survival plan’. “Snow tyres, check. Firewood, yes. Socks, hundreds…” She went down the whole list, covering everything from dry shampoo to copious amounts of candy and snacks. She’d even found a repair manual for the generator online, and had both printed and laminated it, just to be thorough.

“Okay, let’s do this.” She says aloud, still not used to Harley’s absence. The truck’s engine whines a little as it starts up, and she takes a moment to put the map (also laminated) on top of the paperwork piled up on the passenger seat. She still had a few hours until noon, plenty of time to get to the cabin while it was still light and make some sort of order out of it before dark.

The first two hours of her journey went as expected. She didn’t even miss the hairpin turn she had been dreading, but as the bare trees began to curl over the road and block the sun, she felt a prickle of unease. Wishing again for Harley. What was she thinking? A woman, on her own, hiding out in a run-down cabin in the middle of nowhere, all for a book she was contracted to write but had no heart for.

The last four years of her career had been dedicated to her high fantasy trilogy, the world, its characters, its mysteries. Mystery solved and arcs resolved, her baby was done. Before that she had spent years churning out a crappy serial romance saga before a well-earned break funded by selling the rights to turn them into a television series. That was until the inspiration for The Fallen had hit her. But of course, the publishers were keen to squeeze out more profit, and had coerced her into signing another book deal. They wanted a revival of the romance saga, but after over twelve years of being free from churning out two or three contentless books a year, it wasn’t something she wanted to revisit. Besides, it felt ridiculous to be in her early thirties, and turning back to something she started when she was only seventeen. Something different. She didn’t know how to write different. She had planned to save the existential breakdown until she’d arrived and at least got a fire going, but apparently her brain hadn’t got the memo, and she had to pull over to stumble from the truck and put her head between her knees. She focused on her breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose… “C’mon, you can do this.” … out through the mouth.

As she climbed back into the truck sometime later, she heard an engine and slammed her door shut just in time to see beaten up chevy truck thundering past, black smoke sputtering from its exhaust. The driver beeped their horn at her, and her panic was replaced with annoyance. She’d picked a safe place to pull over, she wasn’t blocking the road. Hell, that dick didn’t even have to move positions from the centre of the road.

Apart from the short break at the side of the road, and a five-minute detour down the wrong lane, Y/N was making good time. The only problem came when the cabin was actually in sight. A tree was blocking the drive, and nowhere on the map could she pick out any way to go around. The cabin looked to be only a ten-minute walk away, but everything was blanketed in thick snow, and she had a months’ worth of wood, food, water…not to mention all her writing stuff, clothes, blankets… beers. It would take an insane number of trips and eat into her daylight. But the tree was huge, and even if she had a chain or ropes to try and pull it out of the way, she had no idea how she’d do so safely. That wasn’t something she had researched how to do.

She climbed out and her legs disappeared up to her knees in the thick snow. Not to be put off by the first hurdle, she found the keys for the cabin, gathered up the only valuable things in the truck (namely her laptop and the satellite phone), and locked the truck behind her. The tree had a tangle of roots, so it seemed to have fallen naturally. Not that she really knew what she was looking at. She skirted around the edge and stomped through the snow towards the cabin, which was bigger than she had imagined. The ‘ten minute’ walk took closer to fifteen minutes, hampered by the snow, and then there was the issue of trying to get the door open. The wood seemed to have swelled, and she had to throw her shoulder against it several times before it burst open in a cloud of dust.

It stank. It had that unlived in smell, like stagnant water, and she kept the door open – not just for the light – but for the fresh air.

It was much as she expected really, a small kitchenette (which really was just a log stove and a cobweb infested sink with a single section of worktop) with a small dining table and four chairs. A mismatched armchair and leather sofa tucked close to a log burner. Two doors stood off the one side, presumably to a bedroom and a bathroom. “Right.” She said, setting her laptop bag down and wondering what to do first.

The owners hadn’t been sure that the water supply would still work, which is why she had lugged her own plastic barrels up here, but if it was working, she wouldn’t have to carry so many.

The pumped the lever over the sink a few times, still flushed from the hard walk. After a few tries, the tap sputtered out a dead spider and rust coloured liquid, followed a moment later by clear, precious water. The initial horror at the colour of the stuff still had her deciding to get some water from the truck, however.

“Okay.” She said to herself, stepping back. “Water, oil, logs, clothes for the night, bedding, cleaning stuff. Food.” She ran through her list again and then nodded, satisfied. On her way out of the door she spotted a big old wooden sled propped up under the window. “Perfect.”

Her second trip took longer than the first, fighting the sled the entire way and almost losing the barrel of water. It slid off the sled and looked for a moment like it might roll clean of the mountain, but the packed snow stopped it in its tracks.

Catching her breath for the next trip, she checked the other side of the two doors. Discovering to her horror that both led to bedrooms, then – to her relief – that the master bedroom had a rather basic en suite. It contained one of those giant clawfoot baths you only ever saw in movies, though this one was an old-fashioned green colour and a bit rusty around the plug. She hoped she could get the generator running to enjoy a soak at some point.

She tested the double bed in the master bedroom, and then checked both the twin beds, testing which of the three was the most comfortable, and therefore the one she would be using. The other bedroom, she would use as storage for all her supplies. The big bed in the room with the en suite was fortunately the comfiest, which meant she could pile all her stuff into the room with the twin beds.

She found an old oil lamp in the kitchen cupboards and a little paraffin heater in the cupboard under the sink. It was the ancient kind with no warning labels. Though common sense filled in the unwritten ‘use in a well-ventilated space or you will suffocate’. She set it up, just to take the edge of until she could get a fire going and put the lamp on the dining table next to her laptop, deciding there and then that this evening would be electricity free. She didn’t want to have to deal with the frustrations of the generator, and it seemed encompassing of her new mountain persona to forgo some of the basic necessities.

Two trips later and her hands are blistered from the friction of the sled rope, even through her gloves. Her legs are screaming at her, and despite the three thick pairs of socks, she would put all her royalties betting on frost bite setting in. There’s one last trip to make sure she has everything she’ll need for the night and most of the next day, and then she covers the flatbed of her truck with its waterproof cover and makes sure it’s stupidly tight. None of her things will enjoy a night in the freezing cold, but as long as nothing gets too damp, everything will be fine.

The door had been open all this time, so the cabin is now just as chilled as outside, but at least it smells fresher now. Her phone – devoid of all signal – becomes a glorified sound system. The oil heater starts to inject a little warmth, and as soon as it’s warm enough to abandon her coat and gloves, she gets to work on making the place fit for habitation.

“…As long as my heart's beating, and these old lungs keep breathing, the highs and the lows, yes and the no’s…” She sings loudly as she sweeps out the log stove of half burnt longs and powdery grey ash.

By the time the sun is setting, the whole cabin is as dust free as it can be without a hoover, the log fire is roaring, the bed is made, and the only lingering issue is the draft from the front door, which – having been forced to open – is now refusing to close properly. Having decided that the back and forth from the truck was enough work for one day, Y/N simply snacks instead of making a dinner and then sits by the fire with her notebook and pen. The flannel patterned throw she’d bought from home depot thrown over her legs.

Nothing comes. Not even a silly doodle in the margin. True, she usually wrote on her laptop. But the charge wouldn’t last long, and she’d been prepared to write this book by hand.

Even with the fire and the blanket there seems to be a wickedly cool draft, and she makes a note to put a makeshift draft excluder together in the morning. Finished with her bag of chips, she stands to select another snack and grab a beer, missing Harley weaving between her legs. She twists the cap of the beer bottle and walks back to the sofa and freezes in surprise.

On the sofa, is a pleased looking black Labrador.

The beer bottle slips from her fingers and shatters on the floor. The dilemma of broken glass and soft paws snapping her out of her shock.

“Hello…” She says slowly, answered by a thumping tail on brown leather. “You stay there. Okay?”

thump thump thump

“Okay, good boy… girl… good dog. Stay.”

Fortunately all the cleaning supplies are in easy reach. Y/N focuses on sweeping up the broken glass as a priority, ignoring the beer sloshing around the stone floor and seeping into the rope rug. Glass sorted; she gets a cloth to wipe the beer up. The front door in ajar, which explains how the dog got in. But it doesn’t explain what they’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere. They seem happy enough, well fed, shiny coat, wet nose. So they’re obviously being cared for by someone.

“Okay, it’s safe.” She tells the Labrador from the floor once she’s sure all the glass is up. They seem to be a pro at broken bottles, because with the all-clear, they jump from the sofa and come greet her properly.

“Oh, yes, hello. Nice to meet you too.” She tells them, trying to shove their face away as their tongue makes a beeline for her mouth. She giggles, giving their neck a good scratch. There’s a chain collar, but no tags. “Where are you from, huh?” She asks, attempting to stand, her knees protesting against the stone floor.

There’s a tremendous bang and the front door flies open. Halfway to her feet, Y/N loses her balance and topples onto her back, staring up into the doorway.

Where a bearded man in a Stetson and a heavy coat is pointing a shotgun at her.

PART TWO

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean/reader #mountain man dean #dean winchester likes dogs

[theladyofdeath]

The Joker {Nessian}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 17.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon : “Well, one of us has to change and it’s not going to be me.”

Warning: language, alcohol.

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Nesta looked in the mirror at her ripped fishnets, her shorts, her shirt that read Daddy’s Little Monster, and her red and blue pig tails. At first, she always thought that Harley Quinn was overly done on Halloween, but this year, she was feeling sexy in her costume. 

Her sisters would be there soon to pick her up, and although Nesta didn’t typically do the whole Halloween party thing, she was grateful for the break this year. 

Her work schedule had been grueling, every day leaving her exhausted, and she was grateful to finally have a day off. 

A night to drink, when she didn’t have to be up early the next day.

After one final look in the mirror, Nesta made sure her small, crossbody purse was appropriately packed for the night, with her mints, her lipstick, cash, ID, and one condom….just in case. After tossing her apartment keys inside of the bag, too, she was waiting, patiently, for the knock on the door to come. 

And when it did, Nesta was completely thrown off guard, because when she opened the door, she was met with the Joker. 

Cassian dressed as the Joker, to be more specific.

Nesta said nothing when she threw open the door and found Cassian’s shaggy hair dyed green, and his red suit, and yellow vest. His face was painted, and his grin was rimmed in red face paint.

Nesta blinked. “Where the hell are my sisters?”

“At the club,” he said, shrugging. “I told them I’d pick you up since your apartment is on the way.”

Nesta’s mouth opened, but was quickly snapped shut, before it opened, once again. “You have to change.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“You have to change,” he said, again, gesturing to her costume. “I’m Harley Quinn. You have to change.”

He chuckled. “And why is that?” 

She gestured again at her costume, and when he shrugged, she said, exasperated, “We’re a couples costume, and we’re not a couple! You have to change.”

Cassian snorted. “I’m not changing.”

“Well, one of us has to change and it’s not going to be me,” Nesta said, crossing her arms.

Cassian sighed. “Well, considering we’re at your house, and you insist that one of us must change, it has to be you.” 

Nesta’s lips formed a straight line. “I’m not changing, Cassian.”

“Well, neither am I,” he said, shrugging. “Now, we can go to this party, or you can stay here all alone, pissed off that we match. So. You ready?” 

Nesta scoffed. “You really know how to talk to a lady, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Cassian grinned. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting. The party has started. Let’s go.”

Nesta hesitated. “No.”

Cassian looked at her for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

Nesta was taken aback, offended. “What?”

“You’re stubborn,” he repeated. “You’re stubborn, and it gets in the way of you having a good time.”

“I am not stubborn,” Nesta fought.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “You’re literally the most stubborn person that I know.”

“You’re so full of shit!” Nesta said, her offense growing. 

Cassian laughed as his head fell back, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Just come to the party, Nesta. I promise to keep my distance from you, if that’s what you wish. No one will even know that we’re together.”

“We’re not together,” she said, deadpan. 

Cassian blew out a breath. “Just come on, will ya? The truck is on, the heat is on, your sisters are waiting-”

“Cassian-.”

“Please?” he begged, and when she said nothing more, he took that as a good sign. “If you don’t show up, Elain will-.”

“Alright, alright,” Nesta sighed. “Back up.” 

Cassian took a step back and Nesta stepped into the hall, locking the door behind her. Without a word, she followed Cassian down the flight of stairs and to his truck, where she helped herself inside.

The ride was quiet, aside from the soft music playing in the background. It was so low that there were moments it got lost in the sound of the heater, blowing out toasty air.

Nesta picked up on the tension just a few minutes before they arrived, and once she did, she wasn’t sure how she had missed it. In the few glances she snuck at him, she could see how tight his grip on the wheel was, how tightly his jaw was clenched. His teeth must have been singing as they locked together.

But the most telling sign, the way she knew something was off, was the way he refused to look at her.

She wasn’t inclined to ask what it was.

When they arrived at the club, the line was around the building and Nesta nearly groaned, until she remembered who her younger sister was. Elain had bought VIP tickets the day they’d gone on sale, allowing them to bypass the line and enter exclusive areas that Rita only allowed a select few.

Hopping out of the truck, Nesta didn’t bother to wait for Cassian as she made her way towards the front of the line, popping a pink wad of chewing gum into her mouth. She’d wanted to go all out with the baseball bat, but knew it would get lost somewhere halfway through the night. Better to save her money for booze.

She retrieved the lanyard attached to the VIP pass from her clutch and held it up to the bouncer. Wordlessly, he let her through.

Nesta didn’t wait to see if Cassian was behind her. 

Maybe she should have, or maybe she should have at least thanked him for the ride that saved her from public transportation, but she didn’t. Even as the thought crossed her mind, her feet just kept moving into the club. 

She spotted her sisters and their boyfriends, along with Mor and Amren and their dates, in a booth along the far wall, close to the bar. They all cheered as Nesta approached.

“Where’s Cass?” Elain asked, beaming, after complimenting her sister’s costume. 

“Yeah, thanks for sending the ride, by the way,” Nesta muttered. “I hate the bus and I nearly almost took it anyway. Why’d you send him, anyway? Didn’t he have better things to do? Like, I don’t know, pick up his girlfriend?” 

Elain’s smile faltered. “You don’t know?”

Nesta arched a brow. “I don’t know, what?”

“They broke up,” Feyre said, shrugging. “A couple days ago, I’m surprised that you hadn't heard. Or, at least, saw it on Facebook.” 

“I’m taking a break from Facebook, it just pisses me off,” Nesta mumbled. 

She stared down at her hands, which were folded on the table. Cassian was single for the first time in years.

No wonder he had been so tense in the car.

The man himself appeared, a crooked grin that matched the gruesome one painted on his face, sliding into the booth, next to Rhys. Nesta looked at him for the first time, really looked at him, beneath the costume.

Those hazel eyes that she knew all too well, they were...hollow and empty. And she didn’t like it.

“Nice of you two to finally join us,” Amren said, shooting them both an impatient glare.

Nesta just raised an eyebrow at her friend, but Cassian said, “My apologies, ma’am. First round is on me.”

No one was arguing with that.

Drinks were ordered and as Nesta sipped on a tropical beverage, she kept glancing at the disheveled Joker across the booth. 

“Come on, Rhys, let’s dance!” Rhysand was dragged onto the dance floor, leaving Nesta and Cassian alone as the other couples followed, enjoying their time together.

Nesta cleared her throat, but Cassian continued to stare at his half-full glass of whiskey. 

She cleared her throat again.

Cassian’s eyes shot up and met hers. He blinked a few times as if he had completely forgotten she was there. “Sorry, what?”

Nesta hesitated. She really hadn’t thought of what to say, only that she hated seeing him so miserable. “Your costume looks good,” she said, deciding small talk was safe. “I’m glad you went with this version of the Joker.”

“I thought I needed to change.” His words were meant to bite, she could tell. But they didn’t. They were empty.

She didn’t like that. 

She’d never liked Cassian’s girlfriend. She was a haughty bitch, who constantly judged people and-.

Nesta stopped her thoughts before she let them follow that particular rabbit hole. But she had to admit she wasn’t upset at the news that Cassian wasn’t with her anymore.

Cassian definitely seemed upset, though. 

“I changed my mind,” she said, at last. “Who’s Harley Quinn without the Joker?” 

Cassian chuckled, even though the light didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re known to say that Harley is much better without the Joker.”

She had walked right into that one. But, for the sake of making him feel better, she’d push her personal beliefs of DC villains aside. 

“Just because you dressed up like Joaquin Phoenix instead of Heath Ledger, who was clearly the best Joker to date, doesn’t mean that I think your effort is a total waste,” Nesta went on.

He rolled his eyes, the first thing she’d seen that was anything similar to his normal self. “Please. Ledger’s interpretation may have been iconic, but it only blew up as big as it did because of his untimely death right after,” he said, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a drink. “But you’re not ready to talk about that.”

“It was a tragedy that added to the element of chaos that were his final years,” she defended, sipping down the rest of her drink.

Cassian raised a hand, looking over his shoulder at the bartender, who had two new drinks heading their way shortly after. They discussed the aesthetic differences in the different adaptations of characters, from the Joker and Harley, to Batman and even over to Marvel, getting into a heated debate over who was the superior Spiderman.

Cassian narrowed his eyes at Nesta, who had somehow ended up next to him in the booth - or did he end up next to her? - and said, a slight slur to his words, “Look, just admit it, you like Heath Ledger better because he’s prettier.”

Nesta snorted, something she thought was decidedly unladylike, but she didn’t care. “I mean, yeah, that’s obvious, but that’s not the only reason. It is the reason you should have been him though.”

“Because I’m pretty?” Cassian asked, with a crooked grin.

“I walked right into that one,” Nesta mumbled, downing her drink before setting it down on the table with a clunk. 

“So you do think I’m pretty,” Cassian said, his grin remaining. 

“Everyone thinks you’re pretty,” Nesta argued, snatching a full glass and not hesitating to take a drink. 

Cassian’s grin widened, and with the Joker makeup, Nesta was caught between thinking it was cute or terrifying. “Even you?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Her lips pressed together in a straight line. “Let’s dance, Nazari.”

She was already up on her feet when Cassian stared at her, dumbfounded. “What?”

She shrugged. “Let’s dance.” 

Cassian looked at her for a moment before saying, “I’m not really in the mood to dance, Nesta.”

“Why?” she asked. “Because you were dumped?”

Cassian’s shoulders tensed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nesta shook her head, rubbing her temples. “It’s Halloween, Cass. You deserve to have a good night, and I’m going to make sure you have a good night.” 

Cassian took a deep breath as he looked up at Nesta, through his dark lashes. “Why do you care so much?”

Nesta wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “We’re friends, right?”

Cassian snorted. “We are?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Come on, Cass. Let’s dance.” 

Once again, Cassian stared at her for a long moment. “If I dance with you, will you admit that Joaquin is a better Joker?” 

Nesta slowly shook her head as she crossed her arms. “Never.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Can we at least agree that Jared Leto was the worst?”

Nesta grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

“I’ll take it.” Cassian stood, and took Nesta’s hand. She led him onto the dance floor and wasted no time trying to take his mind off his breakup.

They had come together, after all. Even though they weren’t a couple.

Not yet, anyways.

#nessian #31 days of halloween #acotar #sjm

[yanderecandystore]

Yandere Ocs dream date hcs please?

Hi!

This seems fun :3

Also, oh my God, I haven't started writing for Prey chapter 2, I'm sorry!!! ;-; ;-;

I didn't have enough time to write it. Neither did I write for A Vixen Walking Around At Night yet.

Sorry ;-;.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Our first moment [Yandere OCS x Reader - Headcanon]:

🍒 Bullies 🍭:

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Well, what can I say? She is a little princess, and you'll need to treat her as such.

She is pretty mean, and would totally be expecting you to make her the perfect date. Yes, that also means that you should be the one to ask her out, and if you do, she will talk as if you're the one that should have planned this out.

But don't worry, she knows that she is the one that has to fix everything. Going out is her favorite thing, so why just go around a mall while you two find something to do? Maybe even make you buy things for her.

Alexandra is mostly fucking with you though, I mean, she really wants you to treat her like a princess, but she knows you don't have enough money to buy anything for her (don't worry about buying anything for her boo, she only wears really expensive brands :D).

A movie is cool and all, but even if she is watching something she really likes, she would still find out she is missing something. This date wouldn't feel complete.

Alexandra does like to stay active, and although it sounds really niche, if her darling dares her to run faster than them, she'll totally do it. No questions asked.

Heels or no heels. It's on now. If you bail out though she is going to make fun of you, cause of course she would.

If you win then, well, she lost, is there anything you would like to get as a reward, Ms/Mr. Winner? Does a kiss from her majesty suffice?

Alexandra can be a little bitter sweet, but she does really care about her darling, in her eyes, your just as much royalty as her.

Her dream date would probably be going around a national park, princesses with heels can still do some hiking. Watch her act like a nerd at every single cute animal she spots. Turns out she knows quite a lot about biology, the absolute goof.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

I know that he may seem boring as hell and absolutely "0 fucks given" all the time, and believe me he is, but give him some credit.

He can be probably one of the chilliest out of the two. He does make a couple of ill comments here and there, but he doesn't mind going along with you and doing things you like.

He may comment something along the lines of "not expecting you two to have a great date, because it's impossible to have fun with someone that sucks so much", with yeah, he went full on out with that one, but he is mostly picking on you.

Just seeing you being yourself is pretty entertaining. I guess that's why he keeps picking on you, trying to get different reactions.

Adrien likes to binge watch cartoons, and although he likes music concerts he can't be bothered to move one inch most of the time.

He lets you do what you like to do, but, to be honest, something that you two can do and create sounds a lot better. Maybe he wants to find an active that you two can do while still having fun and bickering at each other.

Would you like to bake with him? He can do just fine on his own, but if you want to, he would really, really appreciate some help.

Even if whatever you baked was a mess and probably burned, you two would still have fun. You'll probably see him smiling for once.

Adrien's idea of a dream date is being able to have fun with you while crafting something, being that baking or even just a silly project. The project may not turn out really well, but throughout the experience, you still get some good laughs.

🍎 Teachers 🥧:

→ Matthew Robinson:

Oh this, suit and tie boi. This sweet, sweet boi.

What can he say? He doesn't have enough experience in the dating department, at least not the most fun of experiences.

He isn't really that lucky, you know?

Maybe show him a little bit of what you're into. That would help him understand how dates are supposed to go.

He is afraid of his ideas being pretty cliche, honey. He would love to take you to eat at a fancy restaurant, or maybe a picnic, just the two of you.

He can be a bit of a glutton. He does enjoy musicals, but he understands that is not exactly everyone's taste.

He is getting old, isn't he? He has even thought about going into a cafe, reading books or something. But can you two just stay home and read? Wait, why would you two even be reading, weren't you two supposed to interact?

Why would he even offer that? God, he probably needs to interact with people more.

His perfect date would probably involve nature, to his own surprise though. Probably taking you to his own home in the countryside, or maybe just being in touch with nature. Getting lost in the woods with you would be, quite the interesting experience.

→ Madeline Allen:

Do you like staying in home and binge watching series/cartoons? Cause she really doesn't like getting out of her house much.

She loves staying at home and simply having a more comfy day. Watching nostalgic movies, eating only the best snacks and having just a great time.

The only other thing that she likes to do is visit the beach whenever she can. She likes collecting shells and she'll probably show you her favorite ones. Her collection could be bigger, if her visits to the beach would be more frequent.

Actually, when she was younger she discovered the best spots to hangout when she wanted to be alone. Well, there are other people that go around that place, but not many actually enter and stay inside for long.

She would absolutely love to bring you inside the hidden grotto she found. It's really spacious, and the view is amazing, but her favorite part is watching the fishes swimming in and out of this little paradise.

The best moments to visit are when it is sunset and when it's a full moon night, it is absolutely amazing, you'll love it!

At least, she hopes so!

🍋Delinquents 🐍:

→ Jackson Macnee:

Jack doesn't really seem like it, but he kinda enjoys reading about romance, even if it's the most cliche bullshit he has ever heard.

I guess it makes sense for him to have a couple of ideas of the perfect date, he used to love reading this shit when he was studying at that snobby school.

But he is a different person now, I mean, yeah he has some ideas on where to take his darling, but he doesn't really think he will ever use his knowledge.

… But, if he ever found someone he actually has a thing for, maybe… A movie?

I mean, he could elaborate on a perfect date and all, he actually would love to elaborate on his perfect date, but- He feels like It would be pointless.

Eh, why not keep things simple? He doesn't want to sound like a dork. At least not to his darling, he would only feel self-conscious about it.

His actual idea of a perfect date is to bring his darling to watch a movie and show them his favorite part around town. He knows how to access some abandoned docks and believe, although it doesn't sound like much, the scenery can be pretty neat.

Two dorks hanging around at some docks while the sun is setting, talking about feelings and shit like that, sounds like something he read about.

→ Janette Sartorius:

Honestly, not even she knows what the fuck she wants.

Her hopeless romantic heart can only take so much love!

Every single idea sounds like the right idea. Stay at home, go out to get something to eat and drink, see some movie or concert, vandalize some shit like you're both Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy or something, find somewhere secret that only you two know how to get there and write your initials together, like-

I mean, she would probably be thinking of doing all of these.

All. Of. These. Every time you hangout she'll be already thinking of the next date.

Something she would totally love to do, would be just playing games with ya. In her house or in an arcade.

Maybe after playing some games, getting some ice cream and walking around the park. But she will always, and I mean always, stop whatever she was doing to pet the dogs along the way.

I guess what she wants is to spend time alone with you, with you two lost in each other's eyes, while she can also show the entire world how beautiful her darling is and how her darling is only hers. Her dream date would totally be in a place like an abandoned haunted house where she can hold you while your scared (and probably scare you whenever she can).

👾 A.I 🍈:

→ Yuma Soma:

Oof, oh dear. Are you the type of person to go out and eat a lot? Cause Yuma is a 100% that person.

What I mean is, they only like going out if it means being able to eat. There are so many human foods that they didn't even know while they were inside the game.

In the food department, there are a lot of things they didn't know, wait until they see the rest of what they don't know about, like other countries and other culture's cuisines.

Maybe that's what they like, going out and discovering new things. Maybe they would like making a trip around the globe with you, or just visiting local restaurants because that's way less expensive lol.

I guess their dream date would be whenever they can go out with you without being trapped inside the game, preferably if you don't run away or start yelling at them for imprisoning you.

But until then, they'll keep you in their hands and bring you to do all the things that real human couples do!

Just stop screaming from inside the game, will you?

🦊 Kitsunes 🍬:

→ Tatsumi:

Tatsumi is an absolute couch potato. He hates having to get out of his room.

But if it's a date with you, then of course he'll go! It's not everyday that the love of his eternal life asks him to go on a date!

But… Where would you go? He kinda doesn't know what to do. Most of his dates end really prematurely.

Get some drinks, have sex and take their energy and leave. He doesn't know what else he can do, love.

When it comes to his darling, sexual interactions don't really come to mind as much as he thought it would. I mean don't get me wrong, he can be a little pervy, but anything with you is already amazing darling.

If he could, he… Wishes he could have a normal day with you. Ya know? Without him being… Him. His dream date would be a day where he can do many of the things he and his darling likes, it may sound clichê but-

Whatever you do together would be wonderful either way.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #sheep stuff #yandere bully #yandere twins #sheep's stuff #yandere oc headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere teacher #yandere delinquent #yandere a.i #yandere teacher x reader #yandere delinquent x reader #yandere bully x reader #yandere a.i x reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

[gotmymindsetonyou]

The Best and Worst Things About Each MCU Movie

These are all just my stinky opinions. You are allowed to disagree, you are allowed to agree. Most of these are jokes anyway. I’m honestly just happy you’re reading this. Minor Spoilers Ahead!

Iron Man (2008) -

Best: This movie almost perfectly sets the tone for the entire universe that has at that point yet to have been created. Looking back, you can imagine the feeling of “Where are they going to go from here?” and I think that’s one of the most important things that this movie needed to accomplish.

Worst: What the fuck is Jeff Bridges doing? What’s his endgame here? I get he’s trying to take over Stark Industries but how’s he gonna do that from inside that giant metal suit he uses to kill people inside their cars?

Incredible Hulk (2008) -

Best: Tim Roth is in it and I think that is pretty cool.

Worst: I haven’t actually seen it, but the cgi looks god awful, what the hell.

Iron Man 2 (2010) - 

Best: Sam Rockwell is so goddamn annoying in this movie and I think that’s amazing, he’s such a little stinker.

Worst: I remember basically nothing else about this movie except some guy talking about birds, idk.

Thor (2011) -

Best: It introduces Loki, probably one of the most beloved villains in the entire franchise. 

Worst: This movie is so goddamn boring and it’s my least favorite and I hate it. Don’t @ me.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) -

Best: The first good chunk of this movie is actually a really compelling character study on Steve Rogers and what makes him a good man. Seeing him basically being paraded as this propaganda figure and watching him struggle with this is one of the most compelling things about him as a person. Really wish they kept this up for the entire movie.

Worst: The red skull is really boring guys. He’s red, that’s it. Give me something else to work with man.

Marvel’s The Avengers (2012) -

Best: This movie proved that you can have a superhero team up with this many people and have it fucking work. It doesn’t matter if you hate or love this movie, you cannot deny the effects it has on the genre.

Worst: It’s shot like a bad CW show. It looks so ugly.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

Best: This one is actually my favorite of the bunch. Exploring the question of what makes Iron Man, the suit or the person, is shown really well here. I thoroughly dig it.

Worst: That scene where Harley flip flops about whether or not he really knows Tony makes me so irrationally angry.

Thor: The Dark World (2013)

Best: It’s slightly better than Thor, and I actually can feel myself start to have a good time whenever Loki’s on screen.

Worst: Once again, this movie is insanely forgettable. Christopher fucking Eccleston is in this movie and I could not tell you a single thing about this character.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - 

Best: This movie has one of the best hand-to-hand fight scenes in the entire MCU. You know the one I’m talking about. It gives me chills, I love it.

Worst: Having the government stand-in that Steve questions in the beginning of the movie actually be a front for N*zis that he can just beat up, and not an actual metaphor for the issues with the government today? You ain’t slick.

Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 1 (2014) -

Best: This is the mcu movie basically anyone can enjoy. Anybody can watch this movie and find something to love about it. The characters, the messages about family and learning to be okay with feeling love, the jokes, hell, even the space setting. THE MUSIC. It’s the full package baby.

Worst: Chris Pratt has an unfortunate cameo in this one.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) -

Best: I have a couple of things. A) The party scene where we get to watch the Avengers talk and be friends with each other and act like people. B) I love James Spader no matter what he is doing.

Worst: Why is everyone quipping? Why is the robot quipping? Why would they massacre my boy like that?

Ant-man (2015) -

Best: I want Paul Rudd to marry me, best dad in the mcu.

Worst: The moment Edgar Wright left this project.

Captain America: Civil War (2016) -

Best: Introduces two great characters, Spider-man and Black Panther. These two get a lot of love when it comes to designing their characters in this movie and it makes me very happy.

Worst: It made the fandom very unhappy and I don’t like picking sides. It feels like watching your many parents get divorced for two hours.

Doctor Strange (2016) -

Best: The magic looks really fucking cool in this movie. Also, the ending with Dormammu is up there for one of my favorite endings of an mcu movie. Having Doctor Strange actually outsmart the villain instead of actually fighting him is endlessly more satisfying.

Worst: Could not tell you a thing else about this movie other than I heard Tilda Swinton plays a character that’s probably not supposed to be white.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017) -

Best: Guys, I gotta come clean about something. I actually like this one better than Volume 1. I know, I know, a good majority of people do not feel this way, but I feel a lot more emotionally attached to the movie, and that’s mainly because of two characters: Yondu Udonta and Rocket Racoon. Rocket realizing that he’s an asshole but his found family still loves him gets me, man. I can’t help it. Helps that Ego is a great villain as well. Also the cinematography is some of the best in the mcu.

Worst:  No Howard the Duck.

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) -

Best: I think the best thing about this movie is just the solidness of it all. No one part stands out as the best because most everything about this movie is pretty damn good. Michael Keaton will knock your socks off, go watch it.

Worst: Donald Glover is in it to tease a Miles Morales reveal, BUT NOTHING HAS HAPPENED ABOUT IT SINCE.

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) -

Best: Taika Waititi knows how to do shit right, lemme tell ya. Taking away Thor’s hammer from the beginning was probably one of the smartest choices in the movie, and this is a movie of smart choices.

Worst: Jeff Goldblum isn’t in it more.

Black Panther (2018) -

Best: Erik Killmonger is easily the best villain in a Marvel movie, and you can quote me on that. An amazing performance from Michael B. Jordan. It’s also the first Marvel movie I saw in theatres (I know, I was very late to the game)

Worst: Everett K. Ross is CIA propaganda and the last fight scene on the train tracks looks like shit.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - 

Best: It’s really hard to sum up exactly what my thoughts are on this movie. I think one of the movie’s best qualities is the bigness of it. This movie feels huge, there’s a lot of different stuff to love here. If you like Wakanda, there’s a whole epic battle set in Wakanda. If you’re more a fan of the space stuff, we got a whole lotta space stuff. The best part of this movie is there’s probably gonna be something that everyone can enjoy packed in here.

Worst: I also think the bigness of this movie is also one of it’s larger weaknesses. Because there’s so much stuff in this movie, not all of it is fully fleshed out. Tony Stark gets a lot to do in this movie, but Steve Rogers sort of feels sidelined at parts. There’s a perfect balance that I don’t think was quite hit.

Ant-man and The Wasp (2018) -

Best: I still really love Paul Rudd in this movie, and I think his relationship with Cassie is still really cute. World’s Greatest Grandma indeed.

Worst: This movie really had its work cut out for itself, coming off the heels of Infinity War, so it sort of falls short in that respect. I don’t want to criticize it too harshly, it is what it is, nothing insanely memorable. 

Captain Marvel (2019) - 

Best: I still think this is a pretty good movie, despite what a lot of people think. I struggle a lot with believing that I have to prove myself to others, so having Carol finally realize that she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone was really important to me, and probably a lot of other women.

Worst: There were parts where I wasn’t as engaged, like the scenes in the Kree empire. That made some of the movie feel off to me, it’s a bit unbalanced.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - 

Best: This movie 100% achieves what it sets out to do, and that is to be a huge cinematic event. I don’t even really see this movie as a movie, it’s more like one huge experience. My viewing had one of the most energetic crowds I’ve ever seen a movie with.

Worst: I don’t really think this movie holds up to multiple re-watches. Granted, I saw it in theatres three times. I don’t think any subsequent viewings are ever going to pack that same punch that my first viewing had, and that makes it harder to come back to. Also Steve had a totally lame ending.

Spider-man: Far From Home (2019) - 

Best: After ending on such a downer note in the last movie, this felt like a weight being lifted off my chest. Jake Gyllenhaal gives an insanely energetic performance that I absolutely adore. (Also seeing it with my dad was fun, he would nudge me every time they switched locations to tell me he’d been there)(Also when I saw it with my sibling a kid ran out of the theatre during the Mysterio mind-fuck sequence, some just can’t handle that lifestyle)

Worst: Peter Parker and MJ remind me of how perpetually single I am.

#movie review #minor spoilers #mcu #marvel #marvel review

[cross-poison]

Slumber Parties --- Harley Quinn/Reader One Shot

Words: 1k || Warnings: alcohol, mentions of cheating, breakups, language

a/n: wanted to mix things up a bit while I’m waiting for AGITP inspiration to come back to me. This can definitely be read as platonic, if you prefer.

Her hand clapped you hard on the back, causing you to grunt into your shot glass of brightly-colored liquor. Although it initially was not a gentle gesture, she moved her hand up from the middle of your back to squeeze your shoulder and rub in a semi-soothing circle near the hem of your shirt. “You can do better than her anyways,” said your companion, head lolling to the side through her partially drunken state.

Harley Quinn was a lot of things. She was loud and spontaneous, and smarter than people gave her credit for, but she was not, by any means, a woman who half-assed things. After getting out of a long relationship with a girl who, despite your chemistry and her stellar good looks, didn’t deserve the title of “girlfriend” in the long run, you’d been taking the hit pretty hard. 

You hated to admit the way your heart clenched every time you remembered the sight of her on top of some tattoo’d up, motorcycle lover of a man on the couch you two had bought together, but it hadn’t been the first time she’d broken your heart in such a manner. 

Turns out, Harley had been a solid shoulder to cry on, having recently gotten out of her terrible relationship with the clown she’d spent so many years chasing after. As far as you could tell, she’d really taken it in stride, so it was no surprise she was the first one in your friend group you turned to to ask for a place to stay for a few weeks until you were back on your feet.

She’d mostly ignored you the first few times she heard you crying from her tiny guest bedroom, but the third time was enough to push her over the edge. That’s when she barged in and suggested the two of you go out and get absolutely hammered at the local bar. That’s exactly what you did.

Three drinks in, and you were crying into your elbow while your flashy friend went on and on about how your ex didn’t know who she’s messing with, and how you deserve more than someone who’s going to waste your time like that, so on and so forth. 

By now you’d lost count of the number of drinks you’d accepted from the bartender, and by now you were no longer shedding tears of sorrow, and instead tears of laughter as Harley tried (and failed) to bribe the bartender for another round in exchange for a manicure. He looked thoroughly unamused, and you apologetically fished out a few dollar bills to finish off the night at the bar with one more round for the two of you.

“I’m tellin’ ya, babe,” Harley slurred, scooping her shot glass off the table and clinking it against yours, “Bein’ single may just be the best thing that’s ever happened to ya! Ya getta chance to discover the real you, and ain’t that really the only thing that matters? Plus, come here on a good night,” she leaned dangerously far back on her barstool so she could gesture vaguely around at the other nearby patrons, “And you get a tonna free drinks. Everyone’s bein’ awful cheap here tonight.”

With a wink in your direction, she downed her shot. As you followed her lead, you heard her exhale loudly and stretch her arms above her head.  “Well, that’s about all I got on me for tonight. Whaddya say we call it a night early and head back to my place? We can make popcorn and watch some cheesy movie to cheer ya up!”

“Yeah, Har, sounds great,” you replied, easing yourself off the stool and trying to steady yourself so you didn’t crash to the floor and cause a scene.

Harley looped an arm around your waist to keep you upright, snickering softly. “You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, toots… bucha know what? So’m I, so I guess we’ll do that togetha too.”

By some miracle, you both made it back to her apartment with little to no trouble, besides an occasional stumble and getting lost once when Harley drunkenly pulled you down the wrong street. Once you were both in the door, Harley all but collapsed on the couch in the middle of the room, groaning and shoving her face into one of the cushions. You followed suit quickly after, tipping your head back to catch your breath.

After a moment, you heard her familiar drawl from beside you. “I know I promised ya popcorn,” Harley said, “But I don’t think my legs are cooperatin’ anymore tonight.”

You laughed and ran a hand through your hair, moving it out of your face. “Mine either. Don’t worry.”

You heard a faint shuffling from beside you, and before you could respond, Harley was laying her head across your lap, blinking up at you with blue eyes and a drunken smile. “I mean it tomorrow though. S’ gonna be the best fuckin’ popcorn you eva had, too. And whateva movie ya want. What’s your favorite? Y’like movies, right?”

“Yeah, I like movies, Har,” you chuckled, affectionately patting her on the head. 

“Me too,” she slurred, turning her face against your stomach, “I like ‘em too. We’ll watch some damn good movies,” with that, she lifted her arm and lifted her pinkie, “I swear it. Pinkie swear.”

You blinked and tried to move your arm to capture her pinkie with yours to seal the deal. You missed a few times, but as soon as you locked fingers, you could already hear her snoring.

Yeah.

Breakups are hard. Breakups suck. But not just anyone can boast they got to spend the night getting over their ex with Harleen Quinzel. Not everyone can boast they got to share a couch with her, either. Or that she promised them a day of movies and popcorn together, enjoying each other’s company.

That was something that distinctly belonged to you. 

And goddammit, you felt a piece of your heart soften in favor of Harley Quinn that night.

---

Ao3 Link : HERE

#harley quinn #dc #dceu #comics #birds of prey #bop #margot robbie #harley quinn/reader #harley quinn x reader #dc x reader #dc/reader #dceu x reader #dceu/reader #harleen quinzel #harleen quinzel x reader #fanfic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #reader insert

[incorrect-spiderson]

Prompt 6 and 31 with Peter and Harley being brothers and dork 💜 and I wanted to know for how you have been writing? 💕

My boysssss!!! Anyways I have been writing for about 5 years?? It’s always been a passion of mine and I’m just now getting pretty good at it! So yeah!

Also, I wanted to explain a nickname that Harley uses for Peter! He calls him Peanut Butter because of his initials! P. B. P. I just thought it would be cute. Aaanyways enjoy!

🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁

If it was up to Pepper, they would be having date night on Christmas Eve. Just her and Tony, doing adult things. Though, she can’t ignore her momma bear instincts. She doesn’t want the kids alone on Christmas. Or ever, for that matter.

“HARLEY DID YOU PUT HAIR DYE IN MY SHAMPOO!”

That was her cue.

Pepper sets down her wine glass and starts towards the stairs. She drops the blanket off of her shoulders and goes after her boys. With each step she can more clearly hear their fighting.

“Pink looks good on you Peanut Butter.”

“Harley you absolute ass!”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“You’re the reason Santa even has a naughty list!”

“Really is that the best-”

As soon as Pepper opens the door, both boys freeze. Harley smirks triumphantly, leaning against the boys’ shared bunk bed. His ugly sweater reads “Santa’s favorite Ho”. Pepper turns to Peter and bites her lip. Her eyes widen and she tries (and fails) to hold back a chuckle. Peter is only wearing Morgan’s bright yellow banana towel. His pink curls clings to his face as he scowls at Harley.

Peter perks up a little bit and points to Harley. “Mom he dyed my hair pink! He is so, so lucky I’m going to pride in a few weeks otherwise I totally would have-”

Harley scoffs and pushes off of the bed. “Petey-Pie you wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly. Also, last week you filled my pillow with whipped cream.”

“The fly didn’t dye my hair pink! And the week before that you-”

Pepper holds up her hand and raises an eyebrow. The boys continue to go back and forth. Every few seconds, Pepper drops a finger. Peter catches on first and instantly stops.

“What? You ready to finally admit defeat PB?”

Peter slaps Harley’s arm and points to Pepper. Harley moves to hit him back but freezes. Once Harley realizes she’s on her last finger, he instead drops his hand and sighs. “Sorry Mom.”

Pepper smirks. “Okay, now that that’s settled, Harley go and check on dinner for me. Maybe start making the gravy. Peter go and help your dad set up the Christmas tree. He’s too short to get the star on the top without a ladder and you can walk on walls.”

Both boys sigh but mumble out agreements. Before Pepper leaves she peaks back through the door. “Oh and Petey... put on some clothes. It’s cold outside.”

Peter’s face instantly turns red as he sputters. Harley sprints out of the room in a fit of giggles, narrowly avoiding the pillow thrown at his head.

Pepper chuckles and shuts the door. Her boys truly are... something.

When May had passed away, they took Peter instantly. She can clearly remember the night when Peter showed up on their doorstep. It was storming outside, rain had been pounding against the window so hard she almost missed the knock at the door. Tony had been upstairs with Morgan, so she naturally answered it. What she hadn’t been expecting was the red, tear stained, soaking wet face of Peter Parker. Who had been clutching a familiar green sweater and a pair of circular glasses like his life depended on it.

To say the least, it had been a very, very long night.

Harley’s situation hadn’t been much better. Her and Tony had been watching Deadpool late at night when he got the call. Pepper couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but she could tell by the worry creases forming on Tony’s face that something was wrong. Suddenly, Tony had shoved the phone towards her while he pinched his nose to fight back tears. When she answered, to say she was surprised would be an understatement.

Harley had been in hysterics. She could barely tell what he was saying over his sobs. Until suddenly, his words had become crystal clear.

The Keeners were dead. Harley had been out with friends while his parents and little sister were grabbing ice cream. His family never made it home. In the same night Tony had gotten on a jet, flown to Tennessee at breakneck speeds, and only two hours after the call Harley was in her arms crying his heart out.

They’d both been through so damn much. Through things that teenage boys should never have to go through. Horrible, terrible things that people only hear about on the news and then never think of again. Every day she marvels at how much strength they both have.

“HARLEY KEENER I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST STEAL MY COOKIE! GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-”

Pepper smiles. She couldn’t be happier that they’re here. The tragedies were awful and she wishes every day that they would have never happened. But now, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She loves her two boys with her entire being.

Pepper starts down the stairs, lazily sighing at the thought of getting back into her book and taking a sip of wine. She’s about half way down the stairs before she freezes.

Two boys.

Two of three kids.

Shit... where’s Morgan?

Pepper jogs back up the stairs and opens the door to her daughter’s room. She scans it quickly and then frantically moves on. She searches every room upstairs twice. Pepper gets ready to call for Tony when it hits her.

Literally.

“Ow! Shit..”

Pepper rubs her head where the Ironman action figure hit her. She gives a pained smile down to her little girl and shakes her head. “Sweetheart, if you throw things, please make sure they’re soft? Okay?”

Morgan’s face screws up in confusion. “But Momma, Ironman was wearing a tutu! Tutu’s are soft!”

Pepper glances down at the toy and realizes. Yes. Ironman is wearing a tutu. A bright pink tutu with little yellow and red sequins on it. Pepper picks up the toy and hands it back to Morgan. The little girl takes the toy and then wraps her arms around her mother’s neck.

Pepper sighs and lifts her daughter into her arms. “You’re lucky that you, little gremlin, happen to be acting more mature than your brothers right now.”

Morgan giggles and taps the action figure on Pepper’s shoulder. “Momma I always act more mature-er than them. They’re teenagers.”

Pepper laughs and starts down the stairs. “You aren’t wrong, gremlin. I think-”

“Oh god.. OH GOD! MOM HELP!”

Suddenly, everything else falls away. Pepper’s instincts take over and she’s racing down the stairs. She grips Morgan a little tighter and as soon as she hits the bottom of the stairs she sprints towards the living room. She’s .2 seconds away from calling her suit, then she pauses.

She had been expecting a lot of things. Burglars, Aliens, Ultron reincarnated. Hell, evil snowmen wouldn’t have been too surprising.

What she wasn’t expecting was her husband to be tangled up in tinsel while her son (who is stuck to the ceiling) is keeping the tree from falling on top of her tinsel-ified husband. Peter looks up (or is it down?) from his perch and sheepishly smiles.

“So uh... we had a slight problem.”

Pepper let’s out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She puts Morgan on the ground and moves towards her husband. Tony smiles up at her mischievously.

“Hey hot stuff. All I need is a bow and-”

“Shush and let me get you out of there.”

After a few minutes of light bickering and un-tinseling, Tony is free. She helps put the tree back in place and turns back to Morgan.

“Sweetheart, it seems like you’re also more mature-er than daddy too.”

Tony’s face morphs into fake disgust. “Are you feeding our daughter lies? Pepper Potts-Stark, I thought you were better than that.”

Pepper just waves him off and starts towards the kitchen. “Whatever honey! Just try not to...”

Once again, Pepper freezes.

Harley is standing over the gravy. With green food dye. He spins to face her and his eyes widen. He glances back and forth from her to green gravy.

Once again, Pepper takes a deep breath. “Harley... Keener. Please. Please tell me you did not dye the gravy green.”

Harley purses his lips. “Well, I was raised not to lie-”

“BULLCRAP”, Peter chirps from the living room.

“- but yes. The gravy is now green.”

Pepper blinks. It’s just one thing after another with her family. “Okay, well... everyone come eat. Food is ready.”

Within two minutes the entire family is seated at the table with their plates piled high with food. Pepper sets the gravy on the table with a sigh.

Peter snickers. “Harley I knew you liked Green Eggs and Ham but this is a bit overboard.”

Harley rolls his eyes. “Coming from Pinkie Pie-”

“Harley I swear-”

Pepper sighs. “Boys. Do I have to start counting?”

Both freeze. They look at each other and then at the ground. “No mom.”

The table falls silent as everyone digs in. The peace doesn’t last long though. Does it ever?

“Oh.. oh god. Bleh! That’s nasty.. Pep what did you put in this?”

Pepper holds up her hands in surrender. “I went by the recipe. Harley on the other hand...”

Harley gasps in feign innocence. “Mom! How dare you accuse me of-”

Pepper raises an eyebrow. Harley pauses for a moment, then sighs. “Okay fine I may or may not have accidentally dropped the cinnamon and it may or may not have gotten on the food.”

Peter tips back his chair and groans. “Harley are you trying to kill me?”

“Not yet.”

“Well don’t feel bad,” Tony sighs, “you didn’t completely ruin Christmas dinner. There’s still this... jello stuff.”

“Yeah!” Morgan squeals. “It’s got marshmallows and fruit and everything in it!”

Pepper takes in the laughing faces of each family member and smiles. Their family is far from perfect. Very, very far.

But, even though they might be the strangest family on the planet, she wouldn’t change a single thing.

🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁

Bonus:

🎶 “DECK THE HALLS WITH WEBS FROM SPIDEY”

“Peter, I beg you, stop. You’re hurting my poor Tennessee ears.”

🎶”THWIP THWIP THWIP THWIP THWIP, TWIP TWIP, THWIP THWIP”

“Mom make it stoooop.”

“Harley he’s expressing himself”

“I don’t think expressing yourself through torture is a good thing”

🎶 “DON WE NOW OUR BI APPAREL”

“I give up. Morgan, wake me up when I leave hell.”

“Okay.... What’s hell?”

🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌

AHHHH THIS WAS SO FUN!!

I would love and appreciate some feedback from y’all! Hope you love this!!

#peter parker #marvel #mcu #avengers #tony stark #spiderman #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #irondad #avengers endgame #harey keener #pepper potts #morgan stark #morgan potts #tony potts #pepper stark #pepperony #christmas fic #christmas marvel #christmas prompts #cam writes #sikes writes

[side-shawty]

Burn II (Stark!Reader)

II: Elastic Heart

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series (?)

Prompt/Summary: Tony Stark’s daughter gets cheated on

Pairing(s): Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Avengers X Reader

Requested? Yes

I was listening to In My Life by The Beatles when I wrote a lot of this. Hope you guys enjoy it!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER 

•

Y/N spent two full hours releasing everything she had been holding in since that phone call with Harley. Her father received a temperature alert from FRIDAY while he was in the lab and waited until Y/N cooled down before he went in.

On his way there he passed the Avengers sitting solemnly in the common room.

“This is bullshit,” he heard Bucky exclaim from now slightly down the hallway, “I say we go teach the kid a lesson,” despite the situation Tony felt the smallest of smiles tug as his lips. Much to his dismay you and Bucky had gotten rather close because you had been assigned to lead the upgrades on the super soldier's arm.

The Avengers all loved and looked out for you. None of them had ever seen you like this. So … broken. You were a light in the tower, both literally and figuratively. They hated seeing you in a state that they didn’t know how to fix.

The door was unlocked when he got to the room. He approached his daughter dressed in his black fireproof suit. The girl's body was still glowing a faint red. Better safe than sorry, he thought.

Tony ignored the ashes surrounding her — he knew exactly what they were from — and sat down next to his daughter, tugging her curled up form into his arms. They sat there in silence for a few moments, Anyone Who Knows What Love Is by Irma Thomas was playing quietly. It was Tony and Y/N’s feel-good song when either of them was sad.

Y/N remembered when she first got her powers and she used to have nightmares. She thought she was dangerous and that she would hurt the people she loved. Her father would come in and sing it to her each and every time and she would always feel better. She had asked her father why he picked that song that night and he told her that was all he could think of.

The two of them had no idea how long they sat there but Y/N was no longer glowing and Tony let his helmet retract into his suit. Y/N let her legs stretch out straight in front of her, turned her body, and held her father’s middle for dear life.

“Is it my fault?” Y/N asked, her voice slightly hoarse, she only cried since she had been in here.

Tony felt his blood boil and had a fleeting thought that maybe he did have something to do with his daughter’s abilities.

“Absolutely not. You did everything you could. But things were … limited for you guys. I’m not saying the kid made the right decision and the last thing he should have done was cheat on you.”

Y/N only nodded before asking, “Will it always hurt this much?”

“No, sweetheart, but the first heartbreak is always the worst. And yours is still fresh,” Tony said and placed a kiss on her head.

“Now how about we get you cleaned up and fed, and we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

Y/N nodded and Tony stood before helping her up and they walked to her room.

•••

It took another few days of quiet family time with Tony, Pepper, and an occasional appearance by Rhodey and Happy before Y/N left her room. The Avengers were family too but they kept their distance. Each of them did visit at least once, though. Meanwhile, she did she spend a lot of her time in her private lab.

Something she didn’t do before.

Y/N liked to be around people when she worked, always said it made her creativity flow. Her father’s lab was the biggest and became the main lab for her, Tony, and Bruce. Bruce also had his own lab but had come to really enjoy working with the father-daughter duo.

Y/N was on her tenth straight hour in her lab when she got an unexpected visit.

“Mr. Parker is on his way in Miss Stark,” FRIDAY said but Y/N barely registered what the AI had said until the automatic door opened and Peter walked in.

“Hey Y/N,” Peter said walking up to the lab table she was working at. She quickly shut down all of her monitors and holograms and turned around to look at him.

“Hey Peter,” Y/N replied, moving to give him a friendly hug. He had clearly just come from school, he still had a bag from Mr. Delmar’s place in his hand.

When they pulled back Peter shook off the odd feeling he got from her turning off the monitors so fast. It wasn’t his business but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned and curious.

“How long have you been in here?” He asked setting the bag down.

“What time is it?”

Peter looked at his phone, “Like 3,” he told her.

Y/N sighed and rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her Guns ’n Roses sweatshirt, “Coming up on hour eleven,” she said and sat down.

“I brought your favorites,” Peter said pushing the bag towards her. 

When she looked inside it was filled with assorted Swedish Fish and Sour Patch Kids, “You’re an angel,” She told him.

The blush that dusted his cheeks was drowned out by look Peter was giving her, one she had become accustomed to since the article released. It was poorly masked pity. But unlike the others Peter’s didn’t stay, he shook it off in an instant.

“What are you working on?” Peter asked, b-lining into a new conversation.

“Little things and an adjustment to my suit. I’m thinking of changing the color, maybe orange or hot rod red like my dad’s first suit. But I found some nice blues, a few that match pretty well for when my fire goes blue. But then there’s this—“

“Y/N you’re rambling,” Peter cut her off.

“Sorry,” she said and looked down, playing with her fingers.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N, and don’t feel like you have to be strong around me or something. We’re friends, and it’s barely been a week since everything happened,” Peter touched her shoulder and she looked up at him, she looked into his eyes instead of just glancing at them for what felt like the first time in years.

They were silent for a moment. That was all it took for every single one of her carefully built walls to fall.

“Peter I don’t know what to do,” Y/N told him, her voice laced with emotion. “My parents, the team, they tell me it’ll get better but every time I look at my phone and open any kind of social media. I see him…I see them,” She hadn’t even been this honest with her dad. But there was always something about Peter that made her feel like she could tell him anything and he would never pity her the way her family did.

“Give me your phone,” Peter said, holding out his hand.

“Why?” Y/N asked, genuinely confused but unlocks it and puts it in his awaiting palm anyway.

“It’s time for some revenge posts,” he says and Y/N quickly stands up.

“No. The internet already knows more than enough about me. No need to tell them he broke my heart too,” Y/N says and attempts to reach for it but Peter holds it out of her reach.

“This isn’t about them. This is about showing him what he lost,” Peter said scrolling through her pictures, jeez did she take a lot of selfies. He was fending her off with one hand now.

“Peter, no. Bad idea, there’s no reason for all that,” She said, trying to move the hand on her abdomen that was forcing her away.

“Yes, there is. You didn’t block him on anything, right?” Peter asked and shifted in the blink of an eye. Removing his hand but shooting a web at one of her feet.Y/N would’ve fallen forward if not for her reflexes. He smugly walked away with her phone in his hand, still scrolling.

“No, Peter get your stupid web off of me,” Y/N said struggling to release her sneaker-clad foot.

“Perfect. So he’ll see it directly and not through one of his friends. And it’s almost 4, so I know he’s not busy.” Peter was still walking around her lab, tinkering with things with one hand while messing with Y/N’s phone with the other.

“Peter!” She called.

“Y/N, you take a lot of pictures. Nice ones too,” he said, ignoring her. She felt her cheeks heat up ever so slightly at the compliment.

“Take this off of me, I like these shoes. I don’t wanna burn them,” she said.

“I’m almost done, just gotta add a caption.”

“Ugh,” Y/N exclaimed and decided to give up. She pushed her seat over and laid on the lab floor.

Peter walked back over, “Don’t move,” he said, “This is perfect for Snapchat.”

Y/N covered her face frustrated with her hands and heard the camera click.

“All done,” he said and shot something from his wrist. The webs dissolved.

He laid down on the floor next to Y/N and she held her hand out for the phone.

She sighed, “Let me see the damage.”

He rolled his eyes and handed it over, “You’re being dramatic.”

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed as she opened up Instagram.

The first post was from about two months ago. The sun was shining through her window perfectly and Y/N couldn’t resist a quick selfie, the caption was simply “Sunkissed” with a little sun emoji.

“Gosh you’re cheesy,” She told him with a light laugh, smiling slightly.

“That’s a great caption,” he laughed with her.

“Sure, sure,” Y/N said before looking to the second post. It was of the two of them on some random day they had in the city, a candid that Steve took. They were walking down an abnormally empty street and decided to mess around. Y/N had her hands above her head, laughing, while Peter did a handstand in the middle of the road. 

It was lovely but she never posted it because, though he never said it, Harley didn’t particularly like “cute” photos of her and Peter together. The caption for this read “If the Captain ever quit his day job he could be a photographer.” Peter, of course, tagged himself and gave photo credits to Steve.

“Nice shout out Spider-Boy,” Y/N said with an eye roll before opening up Snapchat.

There were also two posts on there, the first was from her camera roll, a picture that Nat took of her laughing in the common room at one of Rhodey’s awful standard dad jokes that uncles end up using. She had a soft spot for bad jokes, this one had no caption but her happiness in that photo was palpable.

The second was her on the floor, hands covering her face and a blue heart over her webbed foot, her hair sprawled out nicely. The caption said, “Genius. Billionaire. Scientist. Area Rug?” And Y/N had no idea why this made her laugh so hard but it did.

Peter joined in on her laughing fit and as they laid on the lab floor Y/N finally felt like everything would be okay. This was the start of feeling like herself again.

When their laughter finally died down they looked at each other. Their shoulders were touching and Y/N thought that Peter had the most stunning brown eyes she had ever seen. Unbeknownst to the girl, he was thinking the same thing about her Y/E/C ones.

“Thank you, Peter,” Y/N said quietly.

“There’s no need to thank me, Y/N. We’re friends,” he says and immediately regrets it because something flashed in her eyes that he didn’t like. It sent a pang through his heart.

“Yeah,” she said and blindly grabbed his hand to give it a warm squeeze before turning her gaze up to the ceiling, but he kept his eyes on her.

They stayed there talking about nothing and everything. She told him a bit more about how she felt about everything with Harley. He told her about the Millennium Falcon that he and Ned were building out of Legos.

“So you’re saying that Nat would beat Clint in a fight even if he had his arrows?” Peter asked.

“I’m saying that she has. They never told you the Budapest story?” Y/N asked.

“I didn’t know there was a Budapest story,” he said, curiosity increasing by the second.

“Well—“Y/N began but was cut off by the alarm alerting all of the Avengers to suit up and head to the briefing room.

“Another time,” Peter said as the two of them shot up.

•

 NEXT CHAPTER 

#burn fic #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x pepper potts #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark #reader insert #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #captain america #iron man #spider man

[name-me-regret]

Us, The Martians 1/?

Us, The Martians Prologue

Read on AO3

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Will you hold the line? When every one of them is giving up or giving in, tell me In this house of mine? Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me Will the stars align? Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin?

~Natural - Imagine Dragons

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

The young man, just barely sixteen, pulled his bag close to his body, his hood covering most of his face as he walked along. His clothes were tattered from many days living in the street, a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt underneath that hadn’t been washed in at least a three days. The night was cold, with a mist hanging in the air that made it even cooler for this time of night as spring was ending. It was quiet, almost too quiet being New York, but then again, it was the part where not many of the ‘good people’ of New York ever went. It was where someone could disappear, and no one saw anything, even when they had.

St John Allerdyce knew the risk, but he couldn’t go back home, and all the homeless shelters he’d tried had been full to capacity. He’d even tried F. E. A. S. T. but it seemed this was one of the first places to fill up . The teenager just wanted to get through this night, and then tomorrow he’d try to find the place he’d heard about. It was a school, a special school that was rumored to be for people like him; abnormal, freaks.

That’s what his parents had called him, before his dad had run him out. John had barely had enough time to grab a backpack filled with clothes and the money he’d saved up from several allowances, and from when he’d started working at the local bodega. He’d ran away from... well, he didn’t want to call it a home, since the ones that were supposed to be his family had turned on him as soon as they knew he was different. However, those people weren’t his family, since the way they treated him wasn’t how one behaved with someone they loved.

They were the freaks, not him.

His abilities had developed early, almost three years ago when he’d gone through puberty. He’d been terrified, so he had hid it. It was no comfort to John that he’d been right to hide it.

Now, none of that mattered, it was in the past. It was about survival now, and getting to that special school.

However, it seemed he would never make it.

They came seemingly out of nowhere, at least ten heavily armed men and women. He reacted instinctively, flicking open his zippo lighter as he lit it, and then used his powers to take the fire and formed a fireball. John launched it at the closest threat, and the woman fell as she was engulfed, rolling around on the ground to put out the flames.

John ignored this and instead brought his attention to the nine other threats. As he formed another fireball, one of the men were quicker as he pulled out a gun and fired. However, there was no sharp sound of a normal gun, and instead he felt a sharp pinprick of pain. He pulled the object out, eyesight starting to get fuzzy around the edges, and saw that it was a small dart.

The sixteen year old staggered back as the fireball in his hand flickered and went out with a hiss, and slid down the filthy alleyway wall. John saw that the woman was up, her tactical gear singed and smoking, and besides a burn over her left cheek, she seemed relatively unharmed. She growled and took a single step forward to kick him in the stomach as John cried out in pain, curling down around himself to guard from another attack.

“Now, don’t harm our guest too badly,” an amused voice chided the woman, who immediately backed off. An older man stepped forwards as the soldiers (mercenaries?) moved aside to let him through. He was wearing a three-piece suit, and he could have easily been someone’s grandfather, if not for the cruel glint in his eyes. When it was combined with the false smile he wore, the teen felt properly fearful. “How very nice to meet you, Mr. Allerdyce.”

John was surprised that the man knew his name.

“Oh, you’re wondering how I know your name? From your family, of course,” he chuckled. “After D.C., we’ve been monitoring things closely.” He had his arms behind his back as he paced in front of him slowly. “We pinged the call as soon as your father called the police. When he mentioned how you made the flames of a kitchen fire extinguish, I knew I had to meet you.”

The man snapped his fingers and John was hit with another dart. This one dragged him under, like dark water closing all around him. “You and I are going to get very well acquainted, St. John Allerdyce,” the old man chuckled.

John wondered moments before he passed out if he would survive this acquaintance.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

It was raining, buckets that came down so it was hard to see anything. Harley cursed as he ran down the road toward his house, his sneakers getting soaked through as his foot landed in a muddy puddle, and wished the city would pave the road. However, he doubted that they would, since there weren’t any paved streets except for the main roads of Rosehill, and this wasn't a main road. It was a side road that went along their house and several others, and that then merged with the main road that led to the interstate.

The teen cursed as he ran through another ditch, the water making the ground soft enough so he didn't fracture his ankle, but he did fall flat on his face. He coughed as he scrambled onto his hands and knees, water being splashed everywhere, and his face was covered in mud and filthy water.

Damnit, he was going to have to toss his shoes into the washer, and hopefully they dried by the morning. If not, he was going to have to deal with wet shoes for the last day of school. He hated to do it, but he might need to use some of his saved funds to buy some boots. They were expensive, but he needed to get some Wellington pull-on work boots, since he knew it was likely to rain the rest of the week.

"Mama, I'm home," he called at the door, yanking off his jacket as he shook out his wet hair. He sighed when he saw that his mom had left a towel hanging from the hook where they usually hung their coats. The back of his shirt wasn't as muddy and he used that to wipe his dirty face, glad that it was raining hard enough that most of the mud that had gotten into his blonde hair had been washed out.

The adolescent, who was going to turn fourteen in a few days, towel dried his hair before draping the towel over his shoulders. His sneakers had been kicked off at the door, and his jeans and boxers soon joined them, using the towel to wrap around his waist. He wasn't too terribly skinny, but even then the large towel was able to wrap around him almost twice.

"Harley, is that you?" he heard his mother calling. She must not have heard him call out, but had likely heard the thump of his wet sneakers hitting the wall when he tossed them, along with his wet muddy clothes into the corner next to the door.

"Yeah," he called back a bit louder. "I'm gonna go shower and change! I got soaked right through!"

"Uh, yeah, hurry back down afterwards, ya hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, going up the backstairs. Their house might have been cramped and falling in disrepair, but it was so familiar to him, having grown up here all his life. This was the only good thing their father had ever left them, an old two story white house that was nestled at the edge of the woods right outside of town. Harley and Abbie had played in those woods most of the days of summer vacations while growing up, since there was a fishing hole somewhere in the middle that was attached to a small stream.

He took a quick shower, scrubbing his hair nice and hard to get any dirt and small rocks out of the strands. He’d have to make sure to get them out of the drain cover after he was done.

Harley felt ten times better when he finally left his room, having hurried there from the bathroom since he had forgotten to bring a change of clothes, like always. “Mama, I’m as hungry an an ox,” he said, hurrying down the front steps this time, since it came down to the living room. He’d heard her from this area, so he figured she was there enjoying a hot cup of tea. While it wasn’t too cold since it was the start of summer, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air.

It was a usual thing to come in and find her enjoying some tea after a shift (or coffee if she had a second shift later), and she’d kicked off her white sneakers to be cleaned before her next shift the next morning. Only, this day was not the same as most afternoons he’d experienced, and it was because of the man sitting on the couch as Harley came in.

“Tony?” Harley asked, hand pushing back his hair away from his face. It had gotten rather long and out of control, and now tried to fix it a bit self-consciously. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, kid,” the superhero greeted with a grin. “I’m here to take you and your family to New York.”-

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

#Peter Parker #Tony Stark #Harley Keener #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Spider-Man #Spiderson #Irondad #regret writes #Us The Martians #We’re All Martians series #Martian Child sequel #fanfiction #myfanfiction #Nothing Is Canon Compliant #regret fanfiction #Martian Child

[fallen-imagine-angel]

Arranged Marriages & Forbidden Love - Chapter Ten

Notes: Here’s chapter ten! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Please like/comment/reblog because every time you do, it makes my day! I love hearing feedback from you guys on my fics. I love you all and thank you so much for everything!

Summary: You and Peter see each other again for the first time in two years.

Arranged Marriages & Forbidden Love - Chapter Ten

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: ANGST. barely any fluff but there is a little bit if you squint hard enough.

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |

“(Y/n)?” A voice calls out from the balcony door behind you.

“Harley, I told you I need a breather for a second. I’ll be back inside in a few minutes, I just need a moment alone--” You turn around, coming face to face with a man who is definitely not Harley.

“I-I’m sorry--” He stares back at you, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Peter?” Your eyes go wide as you look at him for the first time in two years. He’s been around the compound, but thanks to your dad, you never saw him. You were never even close to him. Tony made sure of it.

“H-Hey.” He waves shyly, a small smile on his face. Your heart speeds up in your chest against your will.

Even after all this time, he still manages to make you giddy and nervous.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” You look away, turning back to the railing and looking out at the sky again. You can’t face him. Not after everything that happened. Everything that you did.

“I came here to congratulate you. I, um, came out to the balcony purely because I needed to get away for a minute. I didn’t expect to find you out here, as well.” He jokes slightly, standing next to you and staring out at the city. 

A semi-comfortable silence falls over the two of you.

“Thank you for coming.” You gulp, fiddling with your glove over your right hand. 

He still doesn’t know about your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You still mean a lot to me, (Y/n), even after everything.” He smiles and reaches into his pocket. You see him pull out a ring box and your heart drops.

“Peter…” You want to say something, to stop him, to run away, but you’re stuck. You feel like you can’t move.

“I, um, I want to give this to you as a gift. I was going to give it to you the night that...that we, um, broke up. Here.” He slides the ring box across the railing to you. You cautiously pick it up and stare at it, not daring to open it.

“I-I can’t--”

“It’s not what you think. We hadn’t even said-- um, listen, I wasn’t going to propose. It was a promise ring.” He whispers, turning to look at you. You open the box to find a small silver band with two hearts on it. One heart is the color of your birthstone, the other the color of his. Both of your names are etched into the sides.

You tear up, a hand covering your mouth as you look at the beautiful ring. It probably cost a lot of money, and he didn’t even get to give it to you.

“It’s beautiful…” You stare at it, choking back tears. You want to tell him you still love him.

“I still want you to have it. It’s yours, after all.” He smiles at you, a sad smile. You look up at him, a single tear making its way down your cheek.

“Pete, I-I can’t…” You protest, closing the ring box.

“No, seriously. Please, keep it. I can’t...I can’t continue to carry it around, hoping that one day it’ll come to use again. You’re the only one it was meant for. I want you to have it.” He whispers. You can see that he’s trying not to cry, too. Your heart aches for him.

“Thank you.” You take the ring box and slide it into the pocket of your dress.

Another silence envelops the two of you as you both turn to the railing again. You’re holding back the urge to hug him tight and tell him you never wanted to let go of him.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you before I never get the chance to again,” Peter speaks up. You look over at him, but he continues to stare out at the city.

“Hm?” You hum, slightly concerned but curious.

“I’ve wanted to say this for almost three years now. You didn’t let me two years ago.” He chuckles, finally turning to face you. Your brows furrow.

“What are you talking about?” You murmur, eyes searching his for answers.

“I love you.”

Your heart bursts in butterflies.

He loves you. He didn’t say he loved you, he said love. That means he still loves you. Just like you still love him. There’s only one problem.

You’re at your engagement party.

“Pete…” You struggle for words. You’re afraid you’ll say the wrong thing.

“I won’t apologize for saying it, (Y/n/n), because it’s true.” He looks away from you, fiddling nervously with his hands.

A long awkward silence ensues as you stare at him, unable to comprehend anything. You want to scream at him that you love him, that you would follow him anywhere. You want to scream that you would run away with him, but the logical part of your mind, the one you follow most, stops you.

“We’re at my engagement party.” You breathe out, not knowing what else to say. 

“...I figured you’d say something like that.” Peter chuckles sadly, looking into your eyes again. He stills, stopping his fiddling to just take you in for what you both think will be the last time.

“(Y/n), you’re needed at the stage. We’re giving speeches,” Harley pokes his head out, noticing that you’re not alone, “oh. I didn’t realize you were out here with...Parker.”

“We were just catching up,” Peter mumbles, looking to Harley. You tear your eyes from Peter to look at Harley.

“Oh? About what?” Harley steps fully out onto the balcony now, arms crossed and face sour.

“Harley now’s not the time--”

“No, I think now is a fine time to discuss. Were you hitting on my fiancée, Parker?” Harley growls, standing by you. You let out a sigh, mentally kicking yourself for letting this happen. You should have left the moment Peter came out to the balcony.

“I wasn’t hitting on--”

“Bullcrap, Parker. You were. I can tell by the tension. Listen, I know we’ve had a silent feud going on since high school but I thought by now we’d both be mature enough to get over it. Stop trying to ruin my life.” Harley narrows his eyes at Peter. Peter’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not trying to ruin your life, I’m trying to make something out of mine--”

“By stealing my soon-to-be wife away from me? That’s messed up, Peter. Even for you.” Harley scowls. You screw your eyes shut, wishing this would just stop. You don’t want them fighting, especially not over you.

“That’s not what I’m trying to--”

“I heard you confess your love before I got out here! You’re not exactly quiet, you know!” Harley glares. You break.

“Harley, stop!” You yell at him, turning to look at him.

“No, I want to say this, so I’m going to. Peter, You’re here with MJ, your girlfriend. So why are you out here telling (Y/n) you still love her?” Harley growls. You go still.

He’s here with his girlfriend, MJ?

He’s MJ’s boyfriend again.

“You guys are back together?” You whisper, turning to Peter. His eyes are apologetic as he looks at you.

“I bet he left out that part, didn’t he?” Harley snarls, uncrossing his arms.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry, please--”

“I don’t want to hear it. From either of you. Let’s just put all of this behind us.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“No, I want to end this once and for all. Peter Parker, stay away from (Y/n) for her sake and yours. We don’t want any more trouble.” Harley hisses, grabbing your arm. You wrench it out of his grasp.

“Stop speaking for me, Harley! I can make my own decisions.” You scream, wanting desperately for all of this to stop. All you want is to have both of them back, as friends at least. You want them to put all of this nonsense behind them.

“What I say goes right now, (Y/n), and I say that Peter needs to get out of this party before I kick him out myself.” Harley dismisses your comment. You clench your jaw in determination.

“How long have you been speaking for (Y/n)?” Peter asks, brows furrowed in deep thought as he asks Harley.

“What?” Harley’s confused, getting defensive.

“How long have you been making decisions for (Y/n) when she hasn’t been around to say otherwise?” He repeats his question with more clarity, looking Harley in the eyes this time.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Harley lies through his teeth, grabbing your arm and making his way to the balcony doors with you.

“The compound infirmary. The day she got hurt. I went to see her, to make sure she was okay but you told me she had requested not to see me.” Peter purses his lips, confronting Harley. Harley stops in his tracks.

“Wait, what? Harley, you told me that my dad--”

“I think you’re remembering it wrong, Parker. Tony was the one that said that.” Harley grits his teeth, eyes dark in anger.

“No, I’m not. I remember it vividly. I was furious with you, Harley. I wanted to see her but under no circumstances would you let me. It was ‘what’s best for her’ you had said. She didn’t request to not see me, did she? You made that up.” Peter narrows his eyes at Harley.

“I wasn’t even awake yet.” You confirm, taking a few steps back from Harley. He lowers his face from view, pure anger evident in his body language.

“Yeah, well, she was going through a traumatic time, okay? She had just lost her hand for goodness’ sake—” Harley starts. Your eyes widen as he says that last bit. 

Peter doesn’t know about your hand.

“She had just what?” Peter’s eyes go wide as he stares at your right hand, your gloved hand. You grab Harley and in one swift move, his back is pressed against the railing and your fist is balled up in the lapel of his suit jacket.

“Harley, for once in your life, shut up about secrets that aren’t yours to tell.” You growl at him, your tone dark and angry. 

“You have a mechanical hand? Is that why I haven’t seen your bare right hand in any pictures of the past two years?” Peter murmurs, looking at you with pity and sorrow in his eyes. You suck in a short breath, letting go of Harley and taking a few steps back.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You clutch your wrist where the metal hand connects to your flesh. It starts to ache.

“(Y/n)--” Both Peter and Harley reach out to you, but you take a step back from them and shake your head.

“Please, just let me have the rest of this afternoon to myself in peace.” You whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t ready for Peter to know. You didn’t want things to happen this way.

You wanted your engagement party to be fun, not sad. It’s a party, after all.

“We have to give speeches…” Harley trails off, surprised that he forgot the entire reason that he even came out there in the first place.

“Tell my father that I’m not in the mood to give a speech right now because of you, Harley. He’ll have to figure out a way to cover it up with lies like he usually does.” You give Harley a death glare, still holding on to your wrist.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, looking at your hand holding your wrist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You spit, turning around and walking back inside. You make your way to your room, ignoring everyone who tries to talk to you or congratulate you. 

“Oh my god, (Y/n)?” MJ walks in front of you, a look of surprise on her face. You stop this time, surprised to see her.

“MJ.” A real smile makes its way to your face.

Your father had cut you off from the real world for two years. You haven’t talked to any of your friends, including MJ, which has been tough.

“Did your dad cut you off from the real world?” She guesses, enveloping you in a tight hug. You hug back, glad to be around a familiar face that you aren’t angry at. 

“Yeah, he did. Can we hang out soon? Like, really soon? I’ve missed you.” You murmur, still hugging her tightly.

“Yeah, of course. I’m free any time you need me, just call.” She promises, pulling away and squeezing your left hand. You made sure to keep your right hand away from her.

“That sounds great.” You breathe a sigh of relief, glad to have at least one stable friend in your life. Ned and Betty are great, too, but they haven’t been there for you like MJ has before. She was your first friend outside of the compound besides technically Peter. But back then you didn’t know it was Peter.

“I expect to see you a ton before the wedding, anyway, okay? And I better be the maid of honor. I’m gonna throw the best bachelorette party a woman can ask for.” MJ winks at you, trying to lift your spirits. Somehow, she knows you’re upset. A best friend’s intuition, you guess.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You chuckle genuinely, giving her a small smile.

“Well, it looked like you were on your way somewhere before I stopped you. I’ll let you get back to that. Call me soon, okay?” She squeezes your hand again before stepping back. You smile.

“Of course. Thank you for coming, I’ve missed you.” You nod. She disappears into the crowd again.

You wince as the ache in your wrist grows into a sharp pain. You find your room and stumble into it, sitting down on your bed. You take the glove off and see the irritated skin around the metal. 

The pain increases and you cry out, holding your wrist as tears start to streak down your cheeks. It’s painful.

You sob quietly as the pain only increases, knowing that medication can’t dull the pain in this situation.

So, you tough it out. You cry silently and try to wait out the pain because eventually, it’ll stop hurting. Eventually.

But not soon enough.

----------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @savedbystark @paintingbellarke @itsbebeyyy @bonita-juanita @spidey-holland7 @ohbabycal @irxnspxder @spideyboipete @fangirling12566 @undertheheartofjamesmcavoyxd @pluckypete 

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader fanfiction #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader fanfic #peter parker series #arranged marriage #arranged marriages and forbidden love #arranged marriages & forbidden love #AM&FL #AM&FL chapter ten #AM&FL chapter 10 #arranged marriages & forbidden love chapter 10 #peter parker x y/n #x you #x reader #reader insert #x y/n #x (y/n) #reader insert series #spider-man #spiderman #chapter 10 #chapter ten

[winteriron-trash]

Building Legacies

A/N: Oh my goodness she’s posting original fanfics, be still my beating heart

All jokes aside, I’m excited to finally post this fic, as it will be my first and probably the last fic that’s canon compliant with Avengers: Endgame. This fic is just basically Bucky watching Morgan Stark grow up and getting closer to her as an uncle-type figure, and her figuring herself out from Bucky’s perspective. Obviously many warnings for Endgame spoilers, but besides that, hope you enjoy!

-

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have a single thing to do with Morgan Stark. It was common sense and for as much as it hurt, he knew Tony’s funeral should’ve been the first and last time he saw her. It hurt too much, really. Seeing the way her soft brown eyes looked like they’d come right from Tony, watching her cling to Pepper as she fought to understand that her father was never coming home again.

It just wasn’t Bucky’s place. Even if he hadn’t killed Howard and Maria, and if Tony hadn’t hated him. He was nobody to the Stark-Potts family and wanted to keep his relationship with Pepper strictly business, now that she was a head advisor of the Avengers and on call for missions.

Some of the Avengers did form bonds with Morgan. For Peter Parker, it was practically expected. He was a big brother to her, sitting next to her and listening to her ramble about the things she built. Harley Keener, who Bucky had been briefly introduced to as an old friend of Tony’s who was now also an advisor and coordinator of the Avengers, was another brother to her. Though Bucky noticed that Morgan spent more time splitting up fights between Harley and Peter if they were all together.

Carol Danvers got along quite well with Morgan too. Answering the endless stream of questions about space and… whatever the hell Carol’s powers were when she could be around. Morgan constantly wore shirts modelled after Carol’s suit and it didn’t really surprise Bucky that she saw Carol as a model to follow.

Morgan wasn’t quite close to Clint, but she did adore playing with his kids. Morgan Stark and Nathaniel Barton were the best of friends, always making new toys to play with together. On days when Pepper was swamped with work and didn’t want Morgan at the compound, it was practically a given for her to end up on the Barton farm.

So needless to say, Morgan spent her days surrounded by superheroes. But that didn’t mean Bucky had a right to make himself one of those figures in her life. It didn’t matter if he wanted to help raise her to make amends to Tony even after his death. Bucky’s selfish motivations did not override the greater good of a little girl who deserved a childhood far away from a murderer like him.

But it seemed like fate disagreed.

Which was how Bucky found a small figure in the doorway of the compound’s training centre, watching him punch the shit out of a punching bag hanging in front of him.

“Can you show me how to do that?”

Bucky wished that Morgan would leave after realizing whatever she was looking for wasn’t in the gym, but he hadn’t been so lucky.

“Are you looking for Peter?” Bucky asked. “I think he’s in the-”

“I know where Pete is,” Morgan said, skipping up to Bucky. “Can you show me?”

Bucky blinked. “Show you what.”

She pointed to the punching bag. “That. Show me how to fight, please?”

Bucky’s throat went impossibly tight. It was wrong, so fucking wrong. He couldn’t imagine what Morgan thought of the world, being surrounded by people who could kill a man with a pinky every day. He didn’t know what quite was going through her head to make her want to learn how to do the same, but he had some ideas. It hurt him to think about that.

And even if she did learn to fight, it shouldn’t have been from Bucky. There were other people who could teach her, other people who didn’t have Bucky’s complicated past. It just wasn’t his place.

“I think… I think you should ask your mother about that, kiddo.” Bucky forced the words out, trying not to fidget.

Morgan’s eyes flickered with a darkness no child her age should know. “Mommy’s busy. She has important things to do, you know? She saves people. I shouldn’t bother her.”

Oh. Bucky’s gut twisted. That was no decision Morgan should’ve made, thinking that she had to be the bigger person and let Pepper do her job. No one should’ve made that decision, but knowing Morgan did was probably the worst knowledge Bucky would ever carry.

“I think Peter would teach you some stuff. I’m not really good at helping others.” That was a lie. Sort of. Bucky had trained the girls in the Red Room. He trained… Natasha. But still, it was also the truth. Training them hadn’t helped them in the long run. And he sure as hell wasn’t about to make Morgan that type of killing machine.

Morgan tilted her chin up in a show of bravery. “I don’t want him. Pete will baby me.” She was definitely right about that. “You have a cool arm.” Her little hands reached up to grab Bucky’s metal arm, as she literally began to climb up it, legs swinging happily through the air. “I think you’d be the best teacher.”

“Why me?” Bucky could barely get the question out, bending his elbow so Morgan could sit on his forearm.

Morgan smiled brightly. “Mommy said you’re the Winter Solider. If you have soldier in your name, you have to be the best fighter.”

Bucky… Bucky really didn’t know how to feel about that or argue it.

“I didn’t pick that name.” Bucky unstrung the punching bag from where it hung and dragged it off to the corner.

“Daddy didn’t pick his name either.” Morgan followed Bucky. She went quiet a moment. “Do you miss him?”

Bucky paused in front of the closet that stored other punching bags. “I… your dad didn’t like me a lot.” He sighed. “But yeah, I miss him.”

He turned to glance at Morgan. She looked sad and Bucky almost thought it was the memory of Tony before he realized she was staring at his hand putting the punching bag away.

Bucky smiled. “Relax, kid. I’m just getting a softer one. It’s impossible to teach a kid how to punch against a bag designed for metal fists.”

Morgan’s face split into an excited grin. She followed Bucky as he hung up a new, softer bag.

And so that was how Bucky spent the rest of his afternoon, kneeling behind Morgan and wrapping his shaking hands around her tiny ones, showing her how to make a proper fist and square her legs for the right form. It was… nicer than he expected.

Morgan was patient and laster much longer than Bucky expected. The bag barely gave to her swings, but Bucky could feel the anger she put into each punch. He decided that it was better for Morgan to take her anger out this way than something more destructive. At least if he believed that it was easier to help Morgan.

“Morgan?” Pepper’s voice was on the edge of panic.

Bucky looked up in time to watch Pepper poke her head into the gym and sigh in relief.

“Morgan, what are you doing?” Pepper walked into the room, heels clicking.

Bucky pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sorry, she just wandered in, I didn’t mean to impose.”

“Bucky showed me how to punch,” Morgan said, holding her arms up for Pepper to pick her up. “I like him.” She rested her head on Pepper's shoulder with a yawn. “Can I play with him more?”

Pepper smiled softly. “That’s up to James, sweetheart. As long as you’re not bothering him.”

“It’s fine.” Bucky blew stray bangs out of his face. “She’s a good kid, Potts.”

Pepper smiled and nodded. “She’s perfect.”

And so it became a common thing. A few times a week Morgan would find Bucky in the training room and tug on his arm until he showed her a few things. It started with punching, then kicks. Bucky gave some advice on how to fight, even if he knew how little the possibility was that Morgan would ever actually have to fight someone. He told her to use her elbows and knees, showed her where to hit. It was almost nice, having such a constant thing to look forward to. Morgan even pouted when Bucky went on long-term missions and she couldn’t train with him.

Pepper admitted to Bucky that she thought it was nice for Bucky to train Morgan and give her something constructive to take anger out on. Supposedly Morgan’s therapist said something about pent up anger in Morgan.

Between the training, Bucky and Morgan actually didn’t actually talk too much. Bucky didn’t have it in him to try to initiate conversation. People cracked jokes about how strange it was for a Stark to be quiet, but Bucky glared down the comments whenever he heard them. Morgan was too young to just be ‘a Stark’. She was a kid, and no one had any damned business tying a little, innocent girl to an impossibly daunting legacy.

Morgan was twelve the first time she and Bucky had a real conversation.

Morgan stormed into the training room, black boots clomping loudly as she beelined for her punching bag that was kept up all the time. Her first punch sent it swinging so hard Bucky almost thought it was going to fly across the room. She looked like she was trying to do just that, punching the poor bag faster than Bucky had ever seen from her.

“You’re gonna break a knuckle if you keep that up,” Bucky warned, taking a sip of his energy drink.

Morgan whipped around to face Bucky. “I don’t care.”

The look of her in one of Tony’s old shirts that Pepper never had the heart to throw out and ripped jeans reminded him of an idle comment Clint made that Morgan was going into an early teenage rebellion. Bucky disagreed with that, but never really voiced it. He didn’t see Morgan’s obvious personality that everyone else missed out on until she could properly express it as some kind of phase.

The glowing glare didn’t phase Bucky. He’d trained the Black Widow. “You will tomorrow.”

The seemed to be enough to make Morgan pause, letting out a slow breath. “You’re right.” She sounded as frustrated as she looked.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. He should probably do something.

“You… you wanna talk, kid?”

Morgan gave Bucky a long look. “I hate it.” She went back to punching. “No one sees me. They only see him.”

Bucky waited for her to explain.

“I’m sick of it.” A hard hit to the bag. “I’m sick of people telling me I have his eyes.” Another hit. “I’m sick of just being the daughter of the guy who saved the universe. Everyone else got their family back, why did I have to lose mine?”

Oh.

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that. ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t quite seem to cut it.

“I see you.”

Okay, that was stupid. Bucky needed to save… that.

“I see a brilliant young girl who’s better than what other people think of her,” Bucky continued. He punched his own bag a few times. “And it’s not fair. You got the short end of the stick. You deserved better.” Bucky paused. “He deserved better. But not from you. He would be so proud of you, kid.”

“You think so?” Morgan’s voice broke, and Bucky gave her the dignity of not looking over to see her cry.

“Yeah.” Bucky rolled out his shoulders. “I’m proud of you, for what it’s worth.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Bucky promised.

Morgan sniffed and let out a shaking breath. “Can you show me how to use a gun?”

Bucky paused. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Morgan was a natural shot. She picked up hand to hand about at the same rate anyone else did, but the gun was natural in her hands. It got to the point where she was in the target range even without Bucky, firing off rounds. She had preferences on what guns she liked, and had even started learning how to use some longer range ones. Bucky was pretty damned proud the first time she fired off his favourite sniper.

She was fourteen when she built her own gun.

“Hey.” Bucky nodded to Morgan as she walked into the shooting range while Bucky was practising. He didn’t need the practice, but it was late and nightmares kept him awake. He wondered if it was the same for Morgan.

“Hey,” Morgan said. Her soft voice reminded him almost of Pepper sometimes. “Can you try this?” She handed Bucky a gun he didn’t recognize. Bucky nodded, taking it from her. It was black and sleek, with glowing blue streaks lighting up the sides. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

The target exploded into shrapnel.

Bucky blinked. “Damn. Where’d you get this?”

“I built it.” Morgan’s tone wasn’t proud. If anything, she almost sounded resentful of the thing. “It doesn’t run out of ammo, and converts the heat energy from your hands into… blasts, I guess.”

Bucky nodded. He was beyond curious about knowing more of the science, but he knew Morgan wasn’t in the mood of sharing. “Well, it’s a damn good gun.” He tried to hand it back to her.

Morgan shook her head. “No, keep it.” Her cheeks went a bit red. “I… I thought you could use it for missions and stuff.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Bucky said. He set the gun down. “You know, I think you’d be good with a knife. I could show you if-”

“Yes.” Morgan sounded as eager as she looked. “Please?”

Bucky smiled.

Morgan was sixteen the first time she properly knocked Bucky onto his ass and they were both so startled by it, she actually apologized.

Bucky didn’t just show her how to throw knives, but also how to fight close range with them. They used plastic ones in sparring, and Bucky promised not to go easy on her. He knew she’d had too much of babying from everyone else in the compound.

And finally she’d been too fast with a hard kick to the chest that sent Bucky sprawling.

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned, propping himself up on his elbow. “That was a good hit, kid. Nice job.”

He took Morgan’s hand to pull himself to his feet. “Really?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I told you I’m not going easy on you. You earned that one. You still need to work on your guard though.

Morgan’s smiling was absolutely glowing.

Morgan was eighteen when Pepper approached Bucky, wringing her hands.

Pepper and Bucky didn’t talk outside of official Avengers business. He figured it hurt too much for both of them, and they weren’t really the type who’d click anyways. She only ever came up to Bucky with a more empathetic look on her face when Morgan was concerned.

“Can I help you, Ms Potts?” Bucky looked up from the notebook he’d been writing in. Even now, he still remembered new things from his old life, good and bad. He wrote it all down.

Pepper nodded. “I… had a question about Morgan.”

Bucky set his pen down and stared up at her, waiting.

“Do you think Morgan is field ready?” Pepper sounded… almost distraught. “She’s been talking about officially applying to be a SHIELD agent and I thought she just wanted to be an advisor but… she wants to go on missions, James. She wants to fight in the field. I know she’s been training with you a lot and a little bit with Clint’s kids but… I can’t lose her too. Especially not like that.”

Bucky stood up to properly fave Pepper and think about his words before speaking. “I think she’s absolutely more skilled than your basic entry-level SHIELD agent. She’s not Avengers worthy yet, but she’s getting there.” He put his notebook away in a drawer. “Look, if she wants to start going out in the field, I can oversee it. I’ll make sure she’s put on some low contact missions first, with no killing until she’s ready for it. I’d personally be with her. Maybe after one or two missions, she’ll decide it’s not for her, but that’s her decision to make. And I would never let anything serious get near her.

“But I can promise you, Ms Potts,” Bucky looked her dead in the eyes, “Morgan will never forgive you if you try to stop her, let alone if you actually stop her. She’s an adult now, and if it’s her decision, it’s her decision. We can do everything possible to keep her safe through it, but you’ve gotta let her grow up. Let her be ready for this, Potts.”

There was a long moment when Bucky was almost positive Pepper was going to slap him or scream at him for daring to try and tell her how to parent her only child.

But instead, she nodded.

A week later, Bucky and Morgan were on a helicarrier headed to Morgan’s first contact mission.

As Bucky promised to Pepper, it was an easy one, but Bucky figured even Morgan wouldn’t protest to something simple for her first dip in the water. Assuming there were no surprises, Bucky was positive Morgan would barely even need his help and Bucky didn’t plan on doing much helping. He was just there to shadow and advise.

“You ready, kid?” Bucky glanced at Morgan next to him.

Morgan nodded. She was in a mixture of basic SHIELD tac gear and her own designs. She had upgraded versions of the gun she made, as well as knives. A lot of knives. Bucky had been right about her being good with knives, and they’d become a trademark of sorts for Morgan. Bucky didn’t blame her. There was a certain fluid grace to proper knifework. “I’m ready to kick some HYDRA ass.”

Bucky smiled at that. “Good.”

As excepted, the mission went without a hitch. Bucky didn’t even do much, except once remind Morgan that killing wasn’t necessary. They got the information they were there for, got out, and were back at the compound before dinner. It was so routine for Bucky he was slipping out of his tac gear without realizing Morgan was even there.

“That looks like it hurt,” Morgan noted and Bucky turned. She pointed to the scar tissue peaking out from under his tank top.

He shrugged. “It did at the time. It’s fine now. Life moves on.”

Morgan pressed her lips together. “He… my dad had scars like that. On his chest.”

Bucky’s chest hurt. “Yeah, the arc reactor.” He tried not to think about when he’d tried to rip that arc reactor right out of Tony’s chest, or when Steve slammed his shield into it.

Morgan nodded. “Everyone keeps waiting for me to build something like that. My own arc reactor.”

Yeah?” Bucky didn’t know what to say but didn’t want to say the wrong thing to make her stop talking. Bucky knew as well as everyone else did that Morgan was a quiet sort of person, keeping to herself to the point where she bottled stuff up far too much. Bucky tried to coax as much out of her as he could, but he also didn’t want to nag her. He knew some of the people who loved her the most were the worst offenders of just alienating her bying trying to get her to open up.

“I don’t see the point of it,” Morgan said, angrily kicking off boots. “I could be an Avenger or superhero if I wanted just because I won the genetic lottery of being a genius with superhero parents. What good does building my own suit do? It’s not mine. It’s just another part of his fucking legacy.” She drew in a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s so easy, you know? To hate him. But it’s so much harder to stop loving him. I barely even remember him, but I miss him every day, every time I see one of his stupid action figures or another memorial for him.”

Bucky nodded, sitting down next to Morgan. “I know how that feels.”

Morgan looked over. “Do you?”

“When I was in HYDRA, they took my memories,” Bucky said. “Most I got back, with time. But for the first few months, I was searching and trying to understand myself, I was constantly missing a life I couldn’t even remember. People I wasn’t even sure ever existed. I can’t imagine always living like that.”

“It sucks,” Morgan muttered. “It really sucks.”

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. It was awkward, he was never one for physical contact. “But here’s the thing, kid. All that genius stuff, maybe that’s just your dad. And I know it’s not much an accomplishment to live with, but it’s not everything that you are. This?” Bucky picked up one of Morgan’s favourite knives. “You earned this. You worked for this, even through the parts that weren’t natural to you. And the more you work for the stuff like this, the more you step out of his shadow and build your own legacy.” Bucky stood up and handed Morgan the knife. “And personally speaking, I think it’s gonna be a pretty great legacy.”

Morgan’s smile was slow and cautious, but when it finally took over her face Bucky had to fight down his own. She stood up with her shoulders just a bit more squared than before.

Morgan was twenty when she was officially an Avenger, just as Pepper was retiring from field duties, making it almost poetic. Bucky seemed to be the only one not shocked that she didn’t have a suit of armour, and instead just her personally designed tac gear. And a lot of knives. It suited her much better than armor would’ve anyway.

When she started calling herself Agent 3000, Bucky figured it was an inside reference. All he knew was the way it made Pepper’s eyes just a little wet, and that was all he needed to know. A lot of street names started bouncing around for her, with Iron Heart being the most common. Bucky just kept calling her ‘kid’. Even when she yelled at him for it.

As Bucky predicted, it didn’t take long for Morgan to build her own legacy. But she earned it, just as she deserved to.

There were long days Bucky spent thinking about what Tony would think of Morgan. He wondered if Tony would’ve minded that Bucky played such a hand in shaping Morgan as Agent 3000. He’d long since made peace with what he’d done, or at least, tried to. Bucky had bad days the same as anyone else. He hoped Tony did too. And he prayed Tony knew what a great kid he made. More importantly, Bucky hoped Tony knew what a great kid Morgan made herself to be.

Morgan Stark was attached to countless legacies. The brilliance of Howard Stark, the cunning of Pepper Potts, the heroism of Tony Stark. Hell, Bucky’s name even got thrown in there too sometimes.

But the most important legacy was her own. Something undefinably amazing, that made Bucky smile every time Morgan completed another daunting mission or wiped the floor with others when sparring.

Morgan’s legacy was glowing, growing with every step she took. It was an aura around her, the confident smiles she gave to degrading comments at her expense. The quiet wisdom she carried with her wherever she went.

Morgan was born from one of the darkest tragedies humanity knew. And she lost what the rest of the world got to take back in a single snap. And still, she squared her shoulders, faced the world in front of her, even knowing it had what she could never, and decided to fight for it.

She was bravery, kindness, intelligence, and something so unique to her that was perfectly undefinable. Bucky found that to be rather beautiful, like the stars in the sky that seemed to run in her veins.

Morgan Stark was a legacy of hope. And for her, it would be enough.

#endgame #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #bucky barnes #morgan stark #one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #not winteriron #canon compliant #also i can finally add cuts with this laptop huzzaaaaah #enjoy #it's happysad you know? #i like it #kinda long for me but whatever

[marveling-marvelous]

Coraline AU [Part 2]

(Due to everyone’s incredible support for my last Coraline AU thing I’ve decided to continue this story on a little further! Thank you so much for enjoying my work and encouraging me to keep writing. It’s great to be back to writing Starker again. <3)

—————— 

Time moved differently in the Other world.

Peter had never noticed before, having only ever spent a few hours at a time there. In reflection he should have clued in. Time never flew by despite all the fun he had in the beginning, and now it only drug out ever longer.

For the first few years in buttons Peter was defiant. He fought Other Tony tooth and nail every step of their eternity together, and when he finally managed to push those button eyes far enough Other Tony would let him know. Locking the boy beyond a mirror into a room void of any magic or light, leaving him there to “reconsider his actions.”

Peter expected Other Tony to return for him not long after and yet he was left waiting. The room lacked any windows, comfort or even concept of time, so Peter feel himself slipping in his solidarity. He realized soon that Other Tony wasn’t after to play the waiting game. He must have spent years in that punishment room.

Not only reconsidering his actions but every part of his life before this world.

When Other Tony finally returned, he ran into the monster’s loving arms. He didn’t have any part of his former self left to be disgusted by his own weakness. He just wanted to be freed from this limbo. Whatever Other Tony wanted he would do it— whatever it took to keep him acting most like his real Tony so he could just hold on to that small semblance of his old life. He’d do anything.

“Who are you talking to?”

Other Tony was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes he didn’t have to— being an all-powerful supernatural being and what not. Yet even after years together Other Tony still liked to keep up the domestic charade that had lured Peter in. He seemed to enjoy his own performance so much that he never wanted it to end.

“The rats.” Other Tony answered. Peter managed to confirm the answer as he spotted multiple disease ridden, boney tailed rodents sitting on the window sill, looking up at him with similar beady, button eyes.

“I... see.” It was the little details like that which left Peter deeply disturbed. He didn’t want to remember how his perfect little world here really held such vile things.

“What are they saying?” Peter dared to ask. Even now the boy didn’t know hardly anything about this Other world or how Other Tony worked but he did know from his own experience that the rats were Other Tony’s link to the real world. They were his eyes and ears and reported everything back to him.

He knew Other Tony wouldn’t answer. Peter wasn’t permitted to know anything of the real world in all his time here, that wouldn’t change.

Evidently today was different.

“A new kid moved in.”

Peter did his best to seem unphased with the information. Still his heart swelled. Other Tony trusted him.

“Into the Pink Palace?”

“Mhm.”

“I see...”

Other Tony sighed, placing the final dish into the drying rank before turning to face the boy standing in the kitchen’s door frame.

“You may or may not have started to notice but I really need this one, love.” The monster in man’s skin reluctantly admitted. Stepping closer. “My power is fading.”

“Power?” Peter’s voice was small and desperate for answers he was too scared to know.

“I need mortal souls to maintain this world and everything in it. This form, this house, even your existence will be lost.” Other Tony had locked their plastic gazes together as he spoke. “This one might be our last shot.”

Peter tried to ignore the way Other Tony attempted to ease the blow of those words with a tender, ice cold kiss to his cheek. Peter tried desperately to focus on what any of it meant.

“You want to steal another kid’s soul...? Like you did mine?” He really did try to hide the obvious spite lingering on his tongue.

“Though your soul... remains with me I’d hate to have to use it. Especially when there’s another perfectly deceivable soul just a door away.”

It sounded like a threat, but Peter seemed to black that part out, too focused on keeping this world as close to his old one as possible. He wasn’t ready to let go of the last bit of his sanity. Whatever it takes.

“What do you need from me?”

A genuine smile— a wicked warning spread across Other Tony’s face upon hearing Peter’s words. For a moment Peter caught a glimpse of his real Tony and he really felt like he was making the right decision.

Other Tony pulled the boy forward, and spun him around the kitchen in a merry dance. Raining praise on his boy in the form of peppered kisses to his face.

“I knew you’d be perfect! I knew you’d make me proud!” The man exclaimed while spinning the boy around. He only stopped his affections when he remembered time was now of the essence.

“Right then, what I need from you. I only have enough power left to make this world suit his tastes. I won’t be able to conjure up any interesting characters to help with the hard sell.” Other Tony explained, grinning crookedly back at Peter. “That’ll be up to just you and I.”

“But I can’t shape shift. I’m just me some random kid they’ve never met.”

“He’s not picky, a simple child with simple tastes I’ve been told. He just wants a dad to coddle him and an older brother to look up to. These forms will serve us well enough.” The man reasoned, humming contently as he felt all the pieces falling in place. Still Peter had one last question.

“...When is he coming?”

Other Tony paused. Freezing in place as he seemed to be asking himself the same question. Finally, he landed on an answer after he looked toward the rats once more.

“Tonight.”

Peter nodded silently in response, pulling away from Other Tony’s grasp to go prepare himself for whatever was to come of this night.

“And Peter,” Other Tony reached out. “No long faces tonight. I wouldn’t like it.”

A chill shot up Peter’s spine. Again, he just reminded himself that if he just did what Other Tony wanted he’d go back to being like the real Tony. He had to do this for him. For his own sanity.

“Yes, sir.”

Whatever it takes.

——————

His name was Harley.

His father had skipped town when he was a kid and he was left to function somewhere between a busy single mother and an annoying little sister. That was the weak point. The opening that Tony had built their plan around, and it was working.

Harley asked even less questions then Peter had. Immediately taking to Other Tony’s fatherly adoration. Peter on the other hand struggled to connect at first.

“Who are you?” The little boy asked, beaming up at Peter. Already willing to welcome Peter into his life with open arms no matter the answer it seemed, but Peter just stood there with his mouth open, hands shaking.

He hadn’t realized till then that he had forgotten his last name.

It wasn’t even important. It wasn’t like he could tell the kid his real name, but it wasn’t like he could ever tell anyone else again either. He lost a part of himself and he never even noticed. He would have stayed there nearing tears if it wasn’t for Other Tony’s firm presence suddenly behind him, taking the reins.

“This is your Other brother, kid. He’s quite the science enthusiast himself just like you.”

“Really?!”

“Ye...eah. I used to be a part of a science club at school.”

He was? He was. He took a breath. At least he still remembers somethings.

“Oh? What happened?” Harley asked, picking up on the past tense attached to Peter’s statement.

“N-nothing.” Peter quickly shrugged off the question, luckily Harley didn’t press any further when Other Tony caught his attention instead.

“You know Harley, while I make us all dinner, I think Peter would love to show you his stargazing telescope.”

“He has a telescope?!”

“He does.”

“Mhm.” Peter agreed.

He did now.  

“That’d be amazing!” The kid was just glowing with excitement. Peter hated how much he saw of his old self in that kid. He was so stupidly naïve. He still was.

“Well, you two go on then, no time like the present!”

Before the two boys headed upstairs as Other Tony directed, Other Tony pinched Peter’s side for his attention— a warning. He said nothing, just smiled uncomfortably wide and Peter caught on quickly.

Peter matched the man’s smile. Hiding how painful the expression was to hold. That seemed to appease the demon enough, and Peter scurried up the stairs after Harley.

——————

“I’m so jealous of you, Peter.”

Peter never expected to hear Harley say that. Not anyone really.

“Huh?”

“You get to stay here forever! Everything here is so perfect. I’d do anything to have what you have.”

Suddenly Peter felt a weight in his stomach, a dizziness in his head. This was real. He had been watching a kid walk into the bear trap, hoping he wouldn’t notice this whole time, but this kid was blind as a bat and didn’t have a chance from the minute he crossed over. It was painful to watch.

He needed to say something. This was the opening Other Tony would want him to take. He hesitated.

“I mean— it’s not that great here.” The boy scoffed, shrugging a shoulder casually as his fingers toyed aimlessly with the set of telescope lenses nearby.

“You’re kidding! You don’t have a mom to boss you around all day or a little sister always in your stuff. I’d kill to be you, Peter!”

Peter thought after all these years he had grown colder, ready to handle all of the horrible things in his life now. He blamed the kid. The clear look of utter admiration he gave Peter. It made him weak again.

“They love you.” Peter mumbled suddenly, Harley didn’t seem to catch it as he had his face buried in the telescope.

“Huh?” The younger boy asked casually but Peter couldn’t handle seeing the boy’s obliviousness for another moment. reaching forward to grab the boy by his shoulders.

“Your mother and sister love you! You may not see it now but if you spend another hour here you will.” Peter realized he sounded like a lunatic and judging by the boy’s confused expression he must have looked like one too.

“Wha.. Peter, I don’t understand.” Harley exclaimed, suddenly sounding as insecure as Other Tony knew him to be.

“You need to go home. Now! He’ll steal your soul and sew buttons into your eyes if you let him trick you!”

Just then the world tilted.

Everything suddenly looked just a little off, darker and duller. Peter was quick to push Harley aside from the window to look outside and he noticed there was no outside. Nothing but blackness stared back at him. There was no depth only a blank void.

Those damn rats moved quick.

“We have to go.” Peter insisted, rushing to the exit. Harley just watched him completely at a loss for words having just seen the world he had spent an hour worshiping be snatched away from him. “Now, Harley!”

Harley shook himself back together and followed closely behind Peter much like a lost puppy. Peter was just happy to see some sort of caution to the younger boy’s actions now.

The hallway was normal, everything inside the house remained intact other then the slight curl to the wallpaper, shriveling up the walls as they rushed down the stairs, but Peter couldn’t afford to let the warning signs stop him now. He was in to deep to look back now.

“Quick, get back to the door! As fast as you can! I’ll deal with him.”

“No!”

This kid seriously wanted to die.

“What do you mean no?!”

“Not without you!”

It was disturbing how the idea never crossed Peter’s mind. Could he go back with Harley?

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s nothing left for me in that world. For crying out loud I have buttons for eyes, Harley! I’m just as much of a monster as he is!” Peter didn’t mean to sound so harsh, he was just upset being reminded how little he had left to live for.

“You’re Peter Parker!” Peter froze. That name. That was his name!

“What? How do y-?”

“I recognize you from a photo the man in the garage keeps. They all told me you went missing after a misunderstanding you two had. They all blamed him!”

Tony? His real Tony? He was still alive, but it had been years Peter had thought. Hadn’t it?

“They told me not to talk to him, they all thought he was crazy. That he did might have done something to you. But he didn’t! He talks about you like you’re his own son. You have to come back with me, he has to see you!” Harley huffed, emphasizing his point as he clung desperately to the older boy’s arm. He wouldn’t be letting go easily.

Tony missed him? He mourned for him? He cared?

Peter’s heart swelled at the possibly. His Tony was still out there, after all this shit he was still there thinking of him. That was something that made it seem worth trying.

He had to see him.

“Fine, let’s go.” Peter answered simply. He ushered the boy into the living room, pointing frantically toward the small child size door. Harley rushed over, grabbing the button shaped key from his pocket.

“So,”

Instinctively Peter put himself between the boy and the demon he knew to be on the other side of that demented voice.

“This is what you chose. Just when I thought you were becoming the most delectable fly in my web.”

In all these years Peter never saw Other Tony’s true form. He still wasn’t sure if this was it. The human skin he wore still remained but pulled taught across thin needle like bones. His arms and legs resembled more closely to that of a nightmare sized beetle rather than a human. But most notably Peter observed the cracks spreading across his sharp features reaching even his button eyes. It seemed the cracks ran deep.

Be brave, Peter.

“He’s just a kid. He doesn’t belong here, he doesn’t deserve what happened to me. I won’t let you hurt him.” Other Tony just scoffed, his tall frame hunched over as he sat on the far side the room on the velvet sofa. Light barely reached him there, he operated best in the shadows.

“Let’s not pretend like you suddenly became so heroic for this child’s sake. You couldn’t care less about him. If anything, you’d love to see someone else’s life be ruined by me. To watch someone fall even harder then you did.”

“I- That’s not true.”

“We’ll see.” Other Tony smiled. Teeth now sharp and serrated, his silver tongue unnaturally red against his colorless spider-like body. “We’ll see.”

“Peter, duck!”

Peter barely had time to process Harley had already gone back through the door, only now returning with something in hand before he dodged out of the way. The something that Harley brought back just propelled a powerful blast in Other Tony’s direction. Peter could hear it take the breath out of the demon’s chest from across the room.

“What the hell was that?!” Peter shouted at the boy, afraid for himself now too.

“Potato launcher! Don’t make me explain, just come on!” Harley hollered back, gesturing with his whole arm for his friend to follow. Peter scrambled to crawl back through the small door. Harley fumbled with the key but managed to lock the door behind them. Then the banging came. The door radiating a sickening green hue with each deafening thud.

“Follow me!” Harley shouted over the booming impacts. Peter listened to the younger boy’s instructions without question.

He was free.

After all this time Peter was going home. He wondered what had changed, what would welcome him in the other side. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach as he wondered what became of his real Tony. Every emotion seemed to be going through his head drowning out the thundering blows on the door behind him, but they couldn’t shut out Other Tony demonic screams.

“YOU’LL BE BACK. YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME.” Peter just did his best to ignore it. They were just the desperate last attempts of a monster trying to live. He wouldn’t fall for it. Peter had stopped listening. All his thoughts were on his real Tony. Nothing else mattered.

“YOU’LL DIE WITHOUT ME!”

Nothing else mattered.

——————

Tagged as requested: @occulta-lacrimarum13

#starker #coraline au #part 2 #peterxtony #tonyxpeter #spideriron #WHEEE

[ca1e70-deactivated]

a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years. 

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism 

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid. 

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis 

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later 

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best. 

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever. 

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment) 

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH 

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair. 

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going. 

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

#theres probably so many more i mean #ive been on parp for at least 5-6 years now #ive been on cherubplay probably the same amount of time #and my memory is totally shot to fuck but these are just what i know ive done in the last YEAR #or thought were wild enough to remember #i put it under a read more bc frankly its really fucking long #and i dont want this to represent me entirely #these are also heavily situational based and not like. emotion or reaction based much? #some of them are #i guess i could rename this to like. things ive done on parp #but theyre technically still headcanons a lot of them can coincide with whatever #so theyre not very specific situations #anyways #this took me an hour

[bohotraveller-blog]

Insanity Revisited- Solo Biking Expedition On The World's Harshest Desert

It was October 2016 and Suhas was just back from a solo expedition covering Australia’s East to West Coast.  We had immediately taken a liking to him and of course we kept in touch because we knew that this craziness was just beginning. As suspected, our biker dude found his inspiration in the Ayers rock. Yep, that red massive sandstone rock which quintessentially represents Australia. Through one of the most punishing deserts on Earth, this expedition is as much about courage as it is about perseverance and unwavering self-belief.  There is also the whole hearted support of a loving family who believe in letting him loose! So here is Suhas at his candid best and we are so glad we got to catch up with him after all this time!

1.     Last time when we got together, you were just back from a bike ride covering East to West coast of Australia. Tell us what kept you busy between the last and the present expedition?

Gosh, it doesn’t feel like it’s already been over 2 years since I did the East Coast to West Coast (SYDNEY – PERTH) solo motorcycle ride. Life was back to normalcy just a few days after returning from Perth and unbeknownst to me got stuck in the more routine activities – work, family and rinse, repeat. Still, managed to travel with family and friends & take them on a few road-trips in car and a couple of trips outside Australia again with family.

But more often than not we tend to forget that we need to venture out into the open which then helps you give a different perspective to life.

 2.     We are sure the “normalcy” did not suit you for long. Tell us why did you choose this stretch for your latest bike adventure?

Mid-last year while I was flying out of Australia, I looked down from my window and saw this glorious red rock glowing in the late afternoon light. That kind of planted the seed in my head of exploring Ayers Rock on my Harley. Slowly, I started working towards it as this time it was going to be over 6000 kms of the unforgiving Australian Desert and each and every detail needed to be laid out and meticulously planned.

I wanted to do a round trip starting from Sydney and back again to Sydney covering the legendary Australian Outback thereby seeing the World heritage listed Uluru and the Kata Tjuta National Park. I wanted to push my boundaries this time around and thereby making sure this trip to be more challenging than my previous one.  And what better way to do it than being alone on the road with my bike in the middle of nowhere!

Life, according to me is a celebration – the more you celebrate the more there is in life to celebrate. I decided to “Celebrate Life” under the stars close to Australia’s most recognisable landmarks – ULURU.

3.     We agree and glad that you chose the magnificent Uluru for your next adventure. What prompted you to take the solo ride again?

 Hahaha, actually this is one of the most frequently asked questions by many people and honestly I feel I do not have one answer. It was purely based on my instinct and the fact that I was not entirely satisfied with my previous solo ride (to Perth) due to various factors as I thought I still could do so much more.

I have always enjoyed the mental focus and solitude while riding a motorcycle; you have no distractions and can really enjoy the moment and be in tune with nature with the pleasure of living in the Here and Now.

Riding a motorcycle enables the perfect relationship between rhythmic movement and internal stillness, drawing out the physical force like no other. Adding to the fact that exploring NT (Northern Territory) was on my cards too kind of triggered the notion of going on a more gruelling solo ride again.

4.     Alright, we are assuming that these solo rides are going well with the wife. How was this trip different from your last?

I had named this trip “The Mile Muncher” from the day I started working on this as it was clear I had to put a lot of kms under my belt on a daily basis, around 500 kms on an average.

The biggest difference was in my previous ride I only had to ride from east to west, but this trip was covering all the 4 directions with me starting west from Sydney, going north from Port Augusta (SA), travelling east from Tennent Creek (NT) and south from Rockhampton (QLD) back to Sydney and the total distance of this trip was 8,312 kms (approx 5,165 miles)spanning 17 days.

I was told before I even embarked on this expedition by few seasoned travellers that some stretches were really dangerous owing to the cross winds that is actually a normal occurrence in the Central Australian Desert and along with the ever present and the iconic Road-Trains without which the roads are pretty much empty. I also had to be geared up for the frequent sand storms, thanks to the mining that happens all through the desert. Along the track were the usual mix of Kangaroos, Emus, Camels, livestock and birds of prey mainly the famous Wedge tailed eagle which has an approximate wing span of 9 metres when in flight.

 5.     Did the past experience help you this time? Did it make you more relaxed or confident?

Oh yes, absolutely! Every single ride that I’ve completed till date has taught me some important life lessons with the most important one being that not everything goes according to plan and how much ever you plan, things happen which are outside our control and comfort zone. But the only way to get out of these types of sticky situations is to fall back on those lessons that were forcibly taught. Like they say “Good judgement comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgement”.

I was silently confident and relatively less nervous compared to my previous expeditions especially my previous ride partly because I got to know more about me during that 2 week period and even though that ride was not an easy one (6,927 kms in 16 days) my gut feeling kept reminding me that it was a ride that actually did not test my mettle in ways that I had expected it to.

And once I got this thought etched in my mind, the only way to prove it to myself or get over this was to get on my Harley and go on another ride but to increase the stakes and simultaneously making it more difficult. “The more difficult the goal, the greater the achievement” this statement pretty much summarises my thought process behind this expedition.

6.     We call it insane goal. Any problems that you faced with your bike in the course of your trip, and we are sure that even a great bike like yours would have issues considering the terrain and weather?

There was a major issue with my bike’s battery on the very 2nd day into my ride and unfortunately that day was one of the longest days of my ride covering over 600 kms and the starting point was Nyngan with the destination being Broken Hill.

It was around 6:20 AM on that fateful day and after saddling up, it came as a shock my bike wouldn’t start! Luckily I was carrying my trickle battery charger and thought putting my bike on charge for an hour or so would kick it back to life. After plugging the bike in, relaxed for a while, had a cuppa and at around 7:30 AM tried to start the bike and I was successful. Now happy, got saddled up again (mind you, saddling up takes around ~10-15 mins each time!) sat on the bike, turned on the music and tried starting the bike and Round 2; the battery died again!! I was devastated, all sorts of thoughts started clouding my mind – what’s going to happen now? Do I need to come back home? How am I going to complete over 8000 kms on a bike with a faulty battery?

I had to think straight now as this was a make or break situation that too on just the 2nd day. I called up the local mechanic, he came at around 8:20 AM, removed the battery, tried fixing it, finally put it back in and, the battery came back to life. Mechanic leaves, re-saddled and I tried to start the bike and guess what, Round 3 – the battery goes KAPUT! It was already 9 AM, I had lost 2.5 valuable hours on a 600 km day and frustrated to the core. I called the mechanic again, this time told to get a new battery and he came at around 9:45 AM, put the new battery on charge for 30 mins and finally the bike started!

I started from that place at around 10:30 AM, no drink breaks, no bathroom breaks, no photo breaks, just 1 lunch break after 400 kms when I refuelled the bike and reached the destination in a total time of 6.5 hours at around 4:30 PM (I was riding west, hence gained extra 30 mins due to the time difference).

So there is always something to cheer about in every situation as they teach us to reach new heights in whatever we are trying to accomplish!

7.     How did you prepare for this expedition?

I did not try to do too many things different this time around, just kept it simple and like I’ve said previously, laying out all the particulars and planning it to the finest detail was the foundation on which the broader aspects of my ride were built.

Once the route was finalized, I started planning around the accommodations and also making sure there were enough places to see nearby after each day’s ride. More than the physical effort that it takes on these kinds of expeditions, I would say it is more psychological as the mind tends to always look for negatives and negative outcomes in every situation and this particular phase during my preparation was more challenging; staying positive through the days of build-up and focussing only on one goal which is to come back home safe and sound and bring back a life-time worth of memories was among the things I did before embarking on my ride.

8.     What travel gear did you take along?

I have always been a light traveller and since I had made prior accommodations in hotels/roadhouses, I did not need to carry a tent and all its accompanying materials. I had installed custom panniers and it took most of the load including extra fuel, water, and battery trickle charger among others.

Coming to the riding gear, I pretty much followed what I used during my Perth ride which included a Kevlar trouser, a jumper and a leather jacket with elbow, shoulder and spine armour and lastly a back support belt ensuring I stay upright during the entire course of my trip. Also I was carrying 4 different pairs of gloves as the weather was fairly un-predictable ranging from a minimum of 3°c to a max 40°c across 4 states.

 9.     Which was the most memorable halt you made on the way

This is a very hard question for me to answer as every day’s ride and the following halt was memorable in its own way. But if I want to hand-pick just one, I would pick the 10th day of the ride where I had to do ~700 kms in a day starting from Tennant Creek (Northern Territory) and reach Mount Isa (Queensland). This was the longest day of this ride and I had to reach Mount Isa before 2 PM due to the fact that the sun’s rays would be most intense from 2 – 5 PM and post 5 PM it was almost impossible to ride a motorcycle owing to the sheer number of Kangaroos and cattle on the road.

So effectively I had early morning till 2 PM to finish 700 kms and that too had to ride east which meant I had to leave before sun-rise as in the desert you nearly get blind-folded while riding during sun-rise and this inadvertently impacts the day’s journey. I had to take the speed of earth’s rotation into account as I had to clock as many kilometres I could before sun-rise thereby ensuring I ride slowly and carefully with sun in my eyes.

I had planned on taking only two breaks on this day – first one after 220 kms and the second one 260 kms further from the first stop. The final stretch of 215 kms proved to be the most difficult of my ride (life). This was because I started losing focus & attention on the road during the last few kms and also my lower body slowly started becoming numb.

So when I reached the destination at 1:55 PM, I was euphoric and that inexplicable feeling will remain with me forever. I would rate it as my most memorable halt till date!

10. Any insane happening? We have seen those scary movies about highways..so indulge us.

Hahahaa, no such thing happened to me fortunately in this trip but I would like to share a couple of narrow misses that I had with animals on road which was more or less scary in some way.

First was whilst I was behind a road-train (>55-meter-long truck) cruising over 130 kmph trying to gauge its length for over-taking and all of a sudden the truck driver did a fishtail and I had to make a split second decision to swerve to my right as there was a massive dead kangaroo in the middle of the road. This episode was a good lesson for me to not only scan the horizon for animals which are on the side of the road but also the ones lying dead on the road.

Every morning I used to see birds feast on animals that got hit by vehicles travelling the previous night and one such instance happened that a few birds were on a feeding frenzy on a dead camel just on the side of the road and within that group was a Wedge-tailed eagle. These are the biggest birds of prey in the Australian desert. I normally slow down when there are birds around as I do not want to startle them, but this time I did not and the sound of the bike might have surprised the birds and the wedge-tail was within inches of banging on to my helmet. I had to veer to my left completely blinded with that 9 foot wing in my face to avoid hitting that bird.

There were a few more with Dingoes, bustards and emus but I reckon these two events were the most scary ones.

 11.Now that you are a veteran travel adventurer, any tips for the budding enthusiast based on your past two expeditions?

Always keep an open mind for whatever situation you might get into and never lose focus of the goal no matter the adversity. Even if you lose a couple of battles in between, make sure the war is won at the end, because when you are on the road not everything goes according to plan and one needs to be very flexible and do whatever it takes to reach the next milestone.

Set yourself a target or an assignment each day and this keeps every single day interesting and after the completion of that task the sense of accomplishment will most certainly make you more connected and fulfilled. Through this process you will be more motivated for the subsequent days’ travel. I would say this is a very important mental exercise especially while travelling solo as one will definitely feel that lack of motivation due to the missing human connection.

Lastly, solo travel gives one the space to think and deal with stuff like self-doubt or any emotional baggage that we inadvertently tend to push to the back seat while trying to get on with our normal lives. I think it is a great catch-up time with your own self which would invariably result in getting clarity in your life.

12. Sounds a lot like Meditation. We come back to our classic- what’s next?

I am planning to travel with the family this time around and maybe take them outside Australia to anyone of the nearby countries like New-Zealand or Fiji Islands and maybe do some adventure sports there.

Nonetheless, travelling to me is like a drug and sometimes you find yourself in the middle of nowhere and sometimes, in the middle of nowhere you find yourself!  “.

Suhas is the case of “Once Bitten, completely smitten”. We at Bohotraveller will wait for his next solo bike adventure and we are sure he will not disappoint yourself

About Suhas

Suhas is originally from Bengaluru, India. IHe moved to Australia in May 2015 and is currently working as a Technical Architect in Sydney.   Suhas is a quintessential biker dude and loves going on expeditions on his beloved Harley. His wild vagabond streak is only tempered by his meticulous planning and that has enabled him to go on adventures others can only dream of.

Hope you go inspired by Suhas’s extraordinary journey because we definitely are! Iif you are somebody who got as crazy on bike as Suhas, tell us DEFINITELY! Yours could be the next story we feature on Bohotraveller. After all it is about inspiring the best of travel!

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