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#peter needs a hug
thestarkerisobvious · 1 month
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What No One Tells You About The End Of The World
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What No One Tells You About The End Of The World 
Is
…you still have to eat once in a while.  You still have to shit.  You still have to lay down and sleep and then, eventually, you have to get up the next day.  You think you will just stay in bed forever - but I promise you can't.  You will have to get up.  You’ll get bored.  You’ll realize you haven’t bathed in a while.  And eventually, you’ll have to eat.
At least he has something to eat.  Peter reminds himself, sometimes, that he still has electricity and hot and cold running water.  He may live completely alone in a world where the human race has forgotten his name, but at least he has something to eat, and someone to eat with.  Not everyone does.
And Peter does have someone to eat with.  And someone who, on occasions, asks him if he’s eaten today.  Asked if he was getting enough rest.  “Not that I’m one to judge,” that someone would joke mildly, and then some conversation about night-owls and insomnia would follow, but still.  It was nice to be asked.  Such a tiny little kindness that really hit home when the whole planet has magically forgotten your existence.  
Although his older lover might be amused if Peter ever described him as “kind.”  “Infuriating” would be more accurate.  “Maddening.”  Both by day and by night.  Maddening by day (that ego was NOT an act, and sometimes difficult to live with behind closed doors.)  Maddening by night (that scrape of beard on the back of his neck, making Peter crazy…)
What no one tells you about the end of the world is that you will still wake up with morning wood. And that maybe… even though you are sure you don’t deserve it… maybe you still get to feel good.  Sometimes.
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(And sometimes… maybe  more than just good.  Maybe a lot more than good.  Like when he strongarms you to face the wall and presses it in inch by inch, forcing you to take it slow, forcing you to wait.  You’re stronger than him, obviously, it’s not like he’s wearing all his fancy clothes right now but how are you going to fight him?  Not when your cock is in his expert hand and the scrape of that damn beard against your neck is making you insane…)
He apologizes for being an asshole sometimes.
Which… kind of hurts.  Because he never apologizes to the world for being himself… he just is.  That’s what Peter admires about him.  He is completely and utterly himself… doesn’t seem to doubt himself.  Not like Peter at all…
(Also, he never referred to himself as an asshole until they went to bed together.)
Not that Peter can complain.  Having this older man for a lover… this older, arrogant, infuriating man… well…
It gets lonely at the end of the world.  Especially when you’re surrounded by people walking past you, walking to and from work every day and every night, not knowing that your world just ended.  You think you won’t need companionship after your whole world falls apart but, oddly, you do.  Existence has ended, but you’re still human.  Apocalypse is now and passed, but it’s still good to have a conversation about that crazy thing you saw on the street today.
And if you have that conversation while laying side by side in this ridiculous bed, letting the sweat dry off your bodies as you catch your breath and marvel at what you’ve just created together, well…
…who knew you could still laugh after the world has ended?
Laugh, or chuckle, or maybe roll your eyes or maybe even growl a little in frustration at the one man in the world who knows your name.  Maybe even fight a little… maybe even quarrel.  You think you don’t care about anything any more… what else is there to care about at the end of the world?  But you are still a human being.  You still have edges.  And sometimes yours bark up against his and you feel yourself bristling…
…but all of that melts away at when Peter finds himself melting in that man’s iron arms.
His lover is an older man  - he never lets Peter forget it - and he loves to point out that, as an older man he is just not as interested in his own climax as he is in other things.  Peter’s lover is a scientist at heart.  And he is often at night he seems more interested in certain scientific experiments on Peter’s willing body than he is anything else. 
How many times can Peter come in one evening?  How long can he wait, held gaping there on that silver razor edge, waiting for release?  
Who knew, here at the end of the world, that you could still be surprised?
And so Peter does just that.  Gets up in the morning.  Eats.  Shaves.  Shits.  Teases his lover gently about how long he spends looking in the mirror every morning, meticulously plucking his face to maintain that signature facial hair.  There’s more and more gray appearing in that hair now than ever before, but Peter just uses the term “silver fox” and kisses his lover before going out into the world.  Out into the world to try to find some kind of meaningful thing to do.  Then comes home (he gets to think of it as “home” now - that is such a relief) and lets his older lover take control again.
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And you might as well.  Let him take your jaw in an iron grip and turn your head back for a demanding kiss as he slowly moves inside you… holding your breath in hopes to hear those tiny sounds that he makes, those noises that mean he can’t hold back much longer.  No matter how much he brags about not caring about his own climax.  There, on the edge, if you can keep from keening and begging, you can hear him too.  Those sounds he makes when he’s no longer able to remain dignified…
And that's when you realize the hard ugly truth - the world has ended, but you are still alive.  And you DO have a few blessings to count.  You have a place to sleep.  You have hot and cold running water, electricity, and food to get out of bed for.
And someone to go to bed with.
Someone you are actually starting to care about.
And that is the problem.
Because, much to your surprise, here at the end of the world, you are not alone.  And now you’re almost feeling like you might want to get up in the morning?   like you might want to go out into the world and see what’s in it? because you know when you get home at the end of the day, there will be someone to… to talk to about it?
And yes, okay, that someone is a little hard to live with… yes okay maybe he is the best in his field and maybe it isn’t pride if you know you are the best but still…
But maybe… maybe that man is being a little different now.  Maybe he’s making a lot more references to things that happened “before you were born” or even “long before you were born”  which you KNOW is a subtle way of reminding you that the gulf between your ages is huge, and it won't exactly get smaller over time.   
But there’s no point in thinking about the future.  Why think about the future when the world has already ended?
And maybe that's the key to it all.  There is no future.  There is no past…
…okay there is a past.  There is a whole hell of a lot of past… but now days it feels, to Peter, like it all happened to someone else.  Some other kid, someone he had been close to.   Someone who also had lego sets and also had one close friend that shared his obsession.  Some other kid who got the quiet anti-social girl to become his best friend and share a million crazy life experiences, including that first kiss, with each other.  Some other person that saved the  world alongside Tony Stark.  
Some other person that watched him die.
That other kid would never have… well he certainly would have dared to go to 177A Bleecker Street and demand to talk to Stephen Strange.  He would have done that.  When he just couldn’t take it any more.  Couldn’t stand to live in a world that had no idea who he was.  That kid would have dared to explain it all to Stephen Strange.  That other kid might have even accepted the apology, and offer of accommodation, from Steven Strange.  
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But would that other kid have gone to bed with Stephen Strange??  Would he have even taken that risk?
But he did.  THIS Peter Parker did.  This Peter Parker had taken that risk because, let's face it, what else did he have left to lose?  
And now, whatever else Peter had, he had another man to talk about the End Of The World With.  Another man who, kind of, understood.
Another man who just might have some good advice.
“Look out there, kid,” he said one evening, bringing Peter, clad only in his boxers, to that large ornate archaic window at the far end of Stephen’s large ornate archaic bedroom.  The window of the Sanctum Sanctorum  was currently looking out over the street of Hong Kong, not Greenwich Village, but still, Peter got the point.
“The world ended out there, too.  I guarantee you - someone out there on that street is watching the people walk by hating them.  How can they keep walking, how can they keep going back and forth, how can they keep going to work?  Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?  I guarantee you’re looking down on the end of the world right now.
“The world ends for people every single day…” Stephen was murmuring now.  He was standing close behind Peter, his strong hands on Peter’s hips.  Peter resisted the urge to close the distance between them, to press his ass against Stephen’s erection, to distract him and end this conversation.  It wouldn’t be the first time, certainly.  Sometimes a cold part of Peter complained that he wanted Stephen Strange for distraction, NOT for advice.
“But you, you keep going out there.  You  KEEP going out there and you KEEP helping other people.  Because you know the truth.
“What no one tells you about the end of the world is that - enhanced or not - magic or not - special or not - 
“You are still human.”
“And humans keep going.”
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   amazing moodboards by @mrstarksbaby
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This has been a #MrStarksBabyIsObvious production. Follow the tag #MrStarksBabyIsObvious Production to see what else we've cooked up together.
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tending-the-hearth · 11 days
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thinking about how canonically the pevensie siblings are 13, 12, 10, and 8 in "the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe"
thinking about how lucy needed a stool to be able to get up onto her throne, how peter's sword is a little too large for him, how susan's bow is a little too difficult for her to pull back, how edmund's shield nearly covers his entire body.
thinking about the pevensie siblings and their first few months in narnia, getting to know their new people, and half the narnians sitting there horrified because WHAT have these literal babies been through to give them such traumatized, old eyes, and the other half of the narnians are preparing to adopt them, no it doesn't matter that they're the rules, they're children who are being put in charge of too many things, and if peter looks at the old man council long enough he's going to cry, so someone needs to give him paternal support while aslan is off doing Lion Jesus Stuff™️ and whoops oreius is being nice and encouraging and now he's adopted his kings and queens they're his kids now he doesn't make the rules.
just the narnians and the pevensies being thrown into it together, and just as the pevensies will do anything to protect their new kingdom, the narnians will do anything to protect their rules, because let's be honest, these children have no sense of self-preservation, and are far too overprotective of each other and their people to take into account their own safety, so a lot of battles it's just one of the pevensie siblings running headfirst into danger with oreius running after them because his kids are feral and don't know proper royalty manners and won't threatening old kings from different countries because they're being assholes and the last time one of them tried undermining the queens susan called him a self-righteous asshole and lucy tried to stab him SOMEONE help him corral his children please
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undertheredhood · 5 months
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jason todd at all times: y'know, i think i'm doing pretty good for myself as someone who's had four parents that i was never enough for.
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lanyakea-universe · 4 months
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Post battle tragedy
AI generated
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to-the-stars8 · 4 months
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Learning to Love Slowly
Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3
63- A Shower and Gossip
Jason rubbed the washcloth over his shoulders and back, watching as you washed the shampoo out of your hair. It was a simple wash since the two of you were too lazy to wait for the other to get done with their shower. Jay had gotten so accustomed to showering with you that it didn’t require a second thought when you made the suggestion. 
“You know,” You said, trying to avoid getting water in your mouth. “I heard that the neighbor down the hall is fighting with her boyfriend again.”
Jason knew all too well the drama you were talking about. “Oh, yeah? Who is cheating on who this time?”
“The boyfriend is.” Jay only snorted before switching places with you to wash the soap off his body. You continued. “But it gets better.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know if better is the right word for their situation,” Jason remarked with a light laugh when you gently swatted his chest. 
“You know what I mean, babe,” You said, not amused. 
Just as Jason started to run his hands through his hair, he watched as you took your washcloth and rubbed it against your skin. He found it odd that he would find the smallest, most natural act something so beautiful when it was you doing it. With all his attention, he listened as you continued with your meaningless gossip like it was the holy gospel. 
“Anyway, it turns out, he’s been sleeping with her mother.” You acted shocked even though the news came from you. The two of you switched places again so you could wash off this time. “I just can’t believe it! Seriously, Jaybeans, what guy does that? Not to mention the shitty mom.”
Jason snickered, cupping his hands over your head to gather water before bringing it back to throw it over his face. “Now, shitty moms, I can relate to.” You leaned up and kissed the underside of his chin, apologizing for nothing in particular, but hoping it would make him feel better. “Thanks, baby. Though, that reminds me of Dick.”
Confused, you asked, “Your brother?”
Jason laughed, it was quick, and he swooped down to show you he appreciated your accidental joke. “Yeah. He’s had a messy love life.”
“Oh,” You said, and Jason could tell by your tone you were waiting for him to continue. 
Sighing, he did as you silently asked, “Well, there was this whole thing with Barbara and Starfire. Miscommunication and whatnot. I'm not even sure of the whole story. Dick likes everyone to talk to him about problems, but doesn't like to open up to anyone else in return.”
“Now that sounds messy,” You left Jason’s gossip at that. Reaching behind you, you switched off the shower. “No offense to your brother, or the girl down the hall, but I’m glad that’s not us.”
Jason smiled as he handed you your towel. “Me too, sweetheart.”
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dontyouworrydaddy · 3 months
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It‘s you, I love you
Peter Parker (TASM) x fem! Reader
summary: Peter and you have been in a situationship for quite a long time now.. What happens when he accidentally confesses how he feels about you when you two are arguing?
warning: none
✿ ❀ ❁ ✾ ✽ ❃
Peter swung between the skyscrapers of New York City, his senses alert as he patrolled the city.
Meanwhile, you strolled the streets below, oblivious to the secret he carried. The two of you shared a connection that hovered between friendship and something more, a delicate balance neither dared to disrupt. Maybe the two of you were too scared to take a further step.
One evening, You, frustrated and concerned, questioned his priorities, not knowing the weight he carried as Spider-Man. Peter, usually quick with quips, found himself fumbling for words.
"I just can't stand seeing you put yourself in harm's way all the time. Why do you always get involved into school fights anyway? I thought nobody really knew you?" you exclaimed, unaware of the truth.
"It's not like I do it for fun, you know?" Peter retorted, his frustration mirroring yours. "I have responsibilities, things I can't just ignore."
The tension hung thick in the air until Peter, in a moment of vulnerability, blurted out, "You don't get it, do you? It’s not about the "fights" Y/N. I didn’t call you so we can argue about such a small thing. It's about you. I... I care about you more than you realize. That is why I called you. It’s you, I love you. And everytime you act up because I got hurt again wants me make you my girlfriend. Because you care and I love your hands helping me heal."
Your eyes widened, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "What do you mean, Peter?"
He hesitated. In a desperate attempt to prove a point, Peter quickly shot a web to catch your falling phone before it hit the ground.
Gasping, you stared at the webbing, your mind racing to comprehend the impossible. "What the...?PETER?"
Taking a deep breath, peter tried to make you calm down and finally agree to be your boyfriend. "It's me, Peter. I'm Spider-Man. And potentially your boyfriend?"
Your jaw dropped as the realization hit you. "You... you're Spider-Man? PETER WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? AND BOYFRIEND?"
He nodded, vulnerability etched across his features. "I never wanted you to find out like this, but you needed to know. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you without you knowing the truth."
The revelation left you speechless, emotions swirling within. Peter, sensing your internal struggle, took a step closer. "It's you. It's always been you. I love you, and that's why I do what I do. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you."
His words hung in the air, and the weight of the confession lingered between you. The truth was overwhelming, but so was the depth of his feelings.
"I had no idea," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I never knew you felt that way."
Peter reached for your hand, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't plan to tell you like this, but I couldn't keep it from you any longer. I needed you to know everything. Because I can’t help but get jealous whenever you mention another male person that isn’t me."
As the reality of the situation sunk in, you felt a mix of emotions — astonishment, gratitude, and a newfound connection that transcended the boundaries of friendship. With a gentle smile, you squeezed Peter's hand, finally understanding the sacrifices he made for both you and the city.
"Oh Peter… I love you too," you admitted, the truth bringing a sense of clarity to the tangled web of emotions that had bound you both for so long.
And finally, after many failed attempts, you kiss him. Passionately.
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idk-bruh-20 · 11 months
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Irondad fic ideas #129
In an AU where everything is the same except Tony survived the snap in Endgame, MJ and Ned are both very aware that something is up with their memories. Huge, overlapping chunks of their lives are gone. And Spider-Man has something to do with it.
The only public figure Spider-Man has ever been closely associated with is Tony Stark. In need of answers, and not the types to just let something like this go, the kids hack and heist their way somehow onto Tony Stark's secret lake house property. It's weird that no alarms go off when they get close, but they manage it. They're about to knock, when Tony Stark, savior of the universe, opens the door.
He does not look great. Aside from the general post-battle healing and the fact that they have literally caught him at home, there's just something...off. It doesn't take long for them to realize that it's the same thing that's off with them, too.
Something important has been taken from all of their lives. Someone.
After Tony calms down from his initial freak-out, MJ and Ned (though mostly MJ) manage to convince him pretty quickly. The fact that FRIDAY never alarmed because they're in her system already is a huge point to their side. 
And, the fact that he agrees with them. He survived the battle, everything should be fine. But something is so, very wrong. He's grieving someone he doesn't even know.
So, a new team is born. A trio united to find their shared missing person, the eraser mark in their memories none of them can bear to lose, all for different reasons.
They don't have much to go on, but Tony agrees with them on one thing: Spider-Man is involved somehow. And that's a good place to start.
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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 4 months
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How about Peter feeling touch-starved and asks Tony for a hug?
These mini fics often turn out super self-indulgently soft. Haha. But hey! We love it, right?? We're here for the fanon?? I know I am! I hope Anon is too because this one is hurt/comfort with a heavy emphasis on the comfort. Peter desperately needs a hug and doesn't know it. Good thing Tony does. :) Super sweet. Very fluff.
Peter Parker Needs a Hug 967 Words
At sixteen-years-old, Peter was eminently capable of spending a week alone in the apartment. May had been begged to take some shifts at a short-staffed hospital a few hours away. She’d tried to decline. She’d told them she had a nephew at home and couldn't uproot him in the middle of the school year.
Peter had argued the compensation was too good to give up. He’d assured her he would be fine. It wasn’t like he spent that much time at home anyway. He’d attend school, patrol, complete his homework and sleep. If he needed anything, he would have the Leeds’, MJ and Mr. Stark.
Reluctantly she had accepted the offer. She’d packed a few bags, hugged him tightly and driven off.
As it were, Peter flourished in the independence. He woke up early to make himself breakfast, watched whatever he wanted on the television and made sure to get to bed at a reasonable hour. It was great. And when the first week went well, May apprehensively agreed to one more.
While Peter missed his aunt, he wasn’t terribly upset that she had decided to stay longer. It was only seven more days and they talked on the phone all the time. However, the intrigue and sense of accomplishment that came with being trusted to care for himself came to a screeching halt in the middle of his eleventh night of solitude.
For no discernible reason, Peter woke up too early in the morning feeling uneasy. He didn’t think he’d had a nightmare. If he had, he certainly didn’t remember it. Sighing, he went to get a glass of milk from the kitchen; something he often did when he simply couldn’t sleep. But as he walked down the hall, he realized something was different. What he ordinarily thought of as a peaceful silence in the apartment, had been replaced with an eerie feeling of emptiness. He rolled his eyes at his own dramatics and flipped the light on.
The rest of his day didn’t go any better. He got to school and went through the usual paces. Really, it would have been a completely ordinary day had it not been for the lingering discontent in the back of his head. It made him irritable and anxious, and he had no idea how to combat.
When lunch came around, Ned put a hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was okay. He shook his head, his eyes stinging with unshed tears as he fought back the overwhelming desire to pull his friend into a bone crushing hug. Being that they were in the middle of the crowded cafeteria, he fought the urge and wrapped his own arms around himself instead. He mumbled he was just in a bad mood, apologized and tried to go back to his suddenly tasteless sandwich.
Patrol was a no-go. He wanted to go out and help, but lacked the motivation. It was odd. He couldn’t think of a time he’d ever not wanted to patrol. He brushed it off as another symptom of a bad day and went straight home. He’d only been there about ten minutes before Mr. Stark texted him.
‘You’re not patrolling today?’
‘Taking a break,’ he replied, not wanting to give too much away.
‘Want to take that break at the tower? the next message read. Followed by, ‘I could use your help.’
Peter read the message over a few times, surprised that going to the tower actually sounded really nice. Hurriedly, he changed into this suit and headed in that direction.
“Hey, Kiddo!” Mr. Stark cheerfully greeted. “How goes your lack of parental supervision? I haven’t gotten any emergency calls, so I assume it’s gone well.”
Dubiously, Peter narrowed his eyes. “May asked you to check on me, didn’t she.”
Mr. Stark smiled sheepishly, his hand moving to the back of his neck. “She did. Said you sounded a little down this morning.”
Peter’s eyes tried to well up again. It was super aggravating. Especially in front of Mr. Stark.“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he growled. “I’m antsy and annoyed for no good reason.”
Mr. Stark’s head tilted to the side. “How long has May been gone?”
Peter scrubbed at his face and did a mental tally. “Almost twelve days.”
There were a few beats of silence. Then Mr. Stark beckoned him closer. “Come here, Buddy.”
“Why?” Peter asked, feeling more defensive than he should have.
“Just come here. Trust me.”
Peter did as asked. He closed the distance between them and was met with a tight embrace. He stiffened for a split second before melting into the pressure. He couldn’t restrain the fresh round of tears that sprung to his eyes. Mr. Stark tightened his grasp, swaying gently as he ran a hand up and down his back. He didn’t stop until Peter gathered a breath and pulled back on his own.
“Better?” Mr. Stark asked, one hand still squeezing Peter's bicep.
“Yeah,” he replied, his cheeks pink with mild embarrassment. “Yeah, that’s better.”
“I know you’ve been doing fine on your own, but you know you’re welcome to stay here tonight,” Tony offered. “Pizza and movies. I’ll get you to school in the morning.”
Relief Peter didn’t even know he needed, washed over him. “That actually sounds really awesome,” he sighed, leaning in for another brief hug. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. You always seem to know what I need.”
“That’s my job,” Mr. Stark said softly. “But next time you need a hug, all you have to do is ask, okay, Pete?”
“Okay,” Peter echoed. He bit back a smile and looked up through his lashes. “Can I have a hug?”
Tony barked a pleasant laugh. “Of course, Kiddo! Any time,” he said, arms outstretched for Peter to fall into. “Absolutely anytime.”
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confusedbookworm · 3 months
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You know if almost all of my family was murdered in a fire, I was so badly burn that the only way I survived was because I was a werewolf, then was stuck in a coma where eventually I was aware and could feel the pain of my burns but couldn’t do anything, and then knowing that those who were left of my family abandoned me where hunters could easily finish me off …I wouldn’t be in my right mind either!
Peter was not mentally well in the first season, doesn’t excuse what he did but damn, it’s understandable.
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gonnabecoolbeans · 5 months
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Pete: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life
Stephanie: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years!
Ruth: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!
Richie: I knew I lost that potential somewhere!
Grace: My moral code, is that you?
Pete:
Pete: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?
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peterparkourstuff · 2 years
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Kidnapper: we have your son
The Avengers: We don’t have a son??
Kidnapper: He made us reevaluate our life choices and now we feel really bad, please come and pick him up
The Avengers: Oh my god you have Peter
Kidnapper: I’m going to be a painter
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thestarkerisobvious · 2 years
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The Guestmaster
incredible artwork by @mrstarksbaby​
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GUESTMASTER
As my excellent artist pointed out, this isn’t exactly Peter Paker/Dr. Strange so much as it is Peter Parker/Peter Parker.  
You’ll see.
Dedicated to @mrstarksbaby​
because he knows WHY I learned the word “Guestmaster.”
---------------------------------------------------- 
Was the Novice Peter too young to be promoted to Obedientiary?? 
Probably.
But now that Brother Stephen had been made Archemandrite by Queen Wanda, no one dared question his orders, no matter how strange.  Or sudden.  
And that was why Novice Peter was now in charge of every guest monk, friar, priest or pilgrim that came to their remote monastery.  
Did the Novice Peter readily agree to take on the role of Obedientiary?  Oh yes, most certainly.
Did the Novice Peter understand what the word “Obedientiary” meant?  
No.  Not at all.  He only caught the “Obedient” part, and, well...
...well Peter had been hoping that title meant that he would be “obeying” Brother Strange…  
...obeying him… on a more personal level…
                                Little Lord Peter
Peter’s first day at the monastery was full of so much joy and wonder, of such an overwhelming feeling of belonging.  It was a day Peter never wanted to forget.  For Peter, entering the tall gray walls of the monastery was a lot like entering heaven.
Peter was the fifth son (or sixth son, or seventh son, depending on who you asked) of a wealthy lord.  HIs world was full of amazing possibilities - of rooms full of books, of learned people willing to tutor him in any subject or language, as well as sturdy knights with amerable qualities that were equally willing to teach.
Peter was well cared for and well liked.  He took to reading and writing as a serpent took to water, with amazing speed and remarkable agility.  His father and mother were certainly happy to allow him to seek a career in the clergy.
But Peter was also remarkably agile on horseback, and could handle a lance and sword with remarkable strength and agility for a boy of his size.  Many predicted he would easily obtain knighthood and win much honor upon the battlefield.
But as Peter approached his 18th year a strange malady overtook him, sending him to his bed for days on end.
It seemed the boy was either mad or under some magical enchantment.  When he was well cleaned and well fed and well rested he would dress and rise, hale and sound, and walk to his castle window…
…only to find himself transfixed, as immobile as a statute.  There were simply too many choices before him.  Too many books to read.  Too many languages to learn.  Too many styles of script to master.  Too many handsome, rugged (and very devoted) knights to squire under.  Too many trades to master.  Too many paths to take.  All driving young Lord Peter back to bed.
His parents were scornful, at first.  He has been so sagacious, so discerning and nimble-witted as a child, how had he grown so dull so fast?  His brother’s openly mocked him.  His brain-pan had been so keen, how could he waste so much time now, lying abed day at night?
But as the months passed, his family became more concerned.  It was not natural, doctors and physics explained, for a man of his age to sleep day and night, but never be rested.  
And when no cure could be found for his affliction, they took him to the monastery.  They took him to Brother Strange.
Master Doctor Strange was both a very learned man and a physician of renown.  Once a very wealthy lord himself he had renounced his wealth and joined the priesthood.  Now an Abbot, he took in no more patients, but was pressed to accept Little Lord Peter due to the sizeable donation that came with him.
The moment he set foot in the monastery, Little Lord Peter knew he was home.  Around him moved monks, friars and priests in regular, ordered lines, each with a single purpose and a simple design.  Every hour at the monastery was regulated, each with prayers to read and memorize (and Peter read very fast, and memorized even faster.)
Peter’s parents weren’t completely disinclined to let him join the clergy, (nor was the monastery disinclined to admit him, when they saw the size of the donation that accompanied him.)
But when young Lord Peter stood before Brother Steven Strange, he knew he would stay in that place for the rest of his life, whether his parents would or no.  
Because of the moment Peter was led to the great books in the scriptorium.  Because of the moment when he stood in front of them and read for the tall, imposing man.  That moment.
Peter had never defied his parents before.  Could never imagine having the courage to do so.  
Not until the moment he finished reading from the great tome, the moment he looked up to see Stephen Strange looking down at him.  That’s when he knew.  If he had to defy his parents, defy his entire family, even be disowned and turned out and only able to present himself at the monastery gates as a penniless beggar?  Peter no longer cared.  The look in Brother’s Strange’s eyes made Peter ready to give up everything to join this brotherhood.
It wasn’t a look of astonishment as Peter read effortlessly from the ancient text.  Peter was used to that look.  He had been getting those looks his entire life.  Brother Stephen wasn’t even impressed, not really.  Why should he be?  He was surrounded by men who could read.
No, when Peter was finished with the passage, and looked up at Stephen Strange, he saw something entirely different in that man’s eyes.
Brother Strange looked down at Peter, and that man looked hungry.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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Richie: Sometimes i wish i was a hippo Ruth: Same Peter: ...Sometimes i wish you guys would seek therapy
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undertheredhood · 3 months
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it’s quite sad that the only thing keeping jason todd from killing himself is that there’s a very probable chance of him being resurrected again, which is the last thing he wants happening.
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deadbnnuy · 21 days
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ok. it is Baby Dave and Baby Jack hours mf
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siriuslemonmuffin · 2 years
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sirius: i’m fighting the next person to insult you >:(
remus: i hate myself
sirius: alright square the fuck up you gorgeous bastard
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