This ^^ is exactly right. Peters tattoos are about control,’something that is his to see however he wants to. So yes, it starts out as sort of a harmful coping mechanism but turns into something beautiful BUT it didn’t require him changing his way of coping it just required him changing his perception of how he was coping.
Like Wade wasn’t going to tell him to stop getting inked, but he was going to tell him to stop seeing it as punishment and see it as more of a reward
Healing from (insert literally anything here) starts with a shift in perception of ourselves and grows from there and that’s the point I was trying to make when it came to Peter healing. It wasn’t fast and it wasn’t easy but it started with switching from “I’m bad for this reason” to “I’m good for this reason”
Tag: not-close-to-straight
Look at the pretties! I need to update my list cuz my goal is to have all of Kara’s printed works because she is absolutely fantastic.
Thank you @not-close-to-straight for creating these amazing worlds! I can’t wait to reread them all!
Preview of TSWW Chapter Two
“I was bored today so I did a little reading.” Bucky’s grin was just this side of wicked. “How come you never told me you were weak for the way my words roll when I talk Brooklyn to ya?” Dark blue eyes narrowed in his direction and Bucky cleared his throat before crooning, “C’mere Stevie, lemme stitch ya up. Why ya gotta fight like this baby doll? What’s’a matta wi’ya?”
“What the fuck was that?” Steve said flatly, thoroughly unimpressed. “What was that voice? Why are you talking like that?”
“That’s my fan fiction voice.” Bucky frowned at him. “You don’t like it? It’s how I talk in all the stories.”
“You talk to me like that again and I’ll break your nose.” Steve threatened and ducked back under the water.
“Break my nose?” Bucky started laughing. “Is it because you’re all angsty and worked up from the fight? Still got some of that–” he checked the page. “–battle lust roaring through you and need to work it out? Gonna bloody my nose and then–” another check. “–make me gasp over how big your dick is? For someone so small you sure fuck like a–argh!”
He yelped when a big hand reached out and yanked him through the curtain and into the shower, the tablet slipping from his fingers and smacking onto the tile floor, blacking out as the water poured over it.
“Damn it! My tablet!” he cried, and pointed an accusing finger at Steve. “You did that on purpose!”
“Take your clothes off so I can fuck you.” Steve ripped the shirt right down the middle and shoved the pieces onto the floor. “Come on.”
“It’s my Brooklyn voice isn’t it!” Bucky crowed, trying and nearly failing to wiggle out of the wet denim. “Gets you all hard and horny?”
“Not even a little bit.” Steve deadpanned, spinning Bucky so he was facing the wall. “But fucking you is a sure fire way to get you to shut up and stop talking about fan fiction.”
The Stories We Write (Stuckony)(Chapter One)
Welcome to the Story! Stucky discovers Fan Fiction!
(Masterlist coming soon)
*************************
“Uh sorry, what?” Bucky leaned further over the podium and narrowed his eyes curiously at the reporter. “What did you call that? Fan fiction?”
“Yes!” The young woman held out her recorder eagerly. “Since you and Captain America–” a nervous glance and a titter in Steve’s direction. “– are the first openly gay super hero couple, there is a pretty substantial amount of fan fiction written about you, and one of the questions in our reader poll was whether or not–” She checked her notes. “-whether or not Steve and Bucky read the stories under their tag on Tumblr.”
“Uh–Uh–” Bucky’s mouth opened a little awkwardly, and he ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “I can’t really say? I mean, I didn’t even know what– what is fan fiction exactly? What the hell is a tumbler?”
“I’d really rather not say.” The reporter turned pink. “But you should definitely Google it.” A pause, and then she pushed the recorder back towards him and asked, “You do know what Google is, don’t you? Our readers were very interested in exactly how adjusted you are to 21st century life. Are computers something you use often?”
“Uh thank you, Ms. Robinson.” Steve cut in when Bucky started looking a little panicked. “I can assure you that Bucky does know what Google is, and thanks to Tony, he even has his own tablet.”
An impressed murmur from the crowd, and Steve stepped on Bucky’s toe when the big brunette started to scowl. “Be polite.” he whispered, and then louder to the reporter, “Um, I don’t know what fan fiction is, but going back to your original question before that one? We are of course glad to hear that being open with our relationship is encouraging other people to also be open in theirs.”
“Bucky and I spent a long time hiding who we were from the world and being able to do this–” He laced his and Bucky’s fingers together, holding them up for the cameras to see. “– feels pretty great.”
Tony is sick of Pepper picking out his dates for events (“I’m a grown man.” “No strippers.” “Pepper, dancing is an honest job and takes a lot of-“ “Tony.”) and so he does the only rational thing. He gets drunk and orders an online Russian bride. In Natalia’s profile, yes he read it, she says she has a brother that she wants to come with her. When he scrolls to the next picture his brain practically short circuited, because holy shit. Her brother is fucking gorgeous; he’s tall and muscular with stormy, grey eyes and a scowl that makes Tony feel all tingly inside. He’s probably not really her brother and it’s just a scheme for Natalia to bring her lover to the states, but Tony doesn’t give a shit. He’d do anything to see that glare in person.
Tony’s never made a payment faster in his life than he did now (he’ll worry about
makinggetting them permanent visas later).Natalia is thrilled with the entire arrangement.
Tony makes it perfectly obvious that what he REALLY needs is Pepper approved companionship to various events, and Natasha is gorgeous and hilarious in a “I might actually kill you” sort of way, and over the course of countless charity events and press conferences with the stunning redhead on his arm, they actually become friends.
Now instead of just Pepper approved companionship, Natasha teaches Tony to cook and they laugh through terrible movies and there’s no photographic proof but they definitely have painted each other nails.
Bucky on the other hand is silent and sullen and rarely leaves the Tower at all, only speaks in Russian, and watches Tony with the sort of intensity that leaves Tony in a constant state of scare-rousal.
But Tony tries anyway, and when he and Natasha cook he teases and flirts and cajoles until Bucky eats some, and he learns some basic Russian and tries (Terribly) to speak it and Natasha almost falls out of her chair laughing over his just awful accent but Bucky smiles a little over it so Tony keeps trying.
Laundry gets mixed up and Tony ends up wearing one of Buckys shirts and loves it so much he just keeps it? Bucky approves.
Bucky needs chapstick one day and Natasha gives him pale pink gloss and he scowls but puts it on and Tony APPROVES.
Tony can’t sleep and ends up downstairs to watch a movie and completely interrupts Bucky in what is apparently a nighttime ritual of America’s Next Top Model re runs and huge bowls of ice cream.
Bucky wanders into the lab and gives a high girly scream when JARVIS speaks to him and after Tony stops cackling he gives Bucky his own code to the lab.
And then one day, one day when Tony needs Natasha to go with him to some gala, Bucky goes with him instead in some ridiculously fitted tux and his hair pulled back and Tony almost dies.
And that night Bucky walks Tony to his room and taps at his own cheek and very clearly says, “Kiss.”
Tonys never been ordered to give a cheek kiss before but he’s also never had the hots for a terrifying Russian guy, so he puckers up and kisses his cheek.
And then his mouth.
And Bucky probably breaks the door when he pushes it open but whatever.
And Tony has HICKEYS like a mothafucka the next morning but whatever.
And Natasha starts calling Bucky Tonys mail order bride and Bucky puts her in a headlock because that’s what siblings do.
Stuckony Fanfic Within A Fanfic (damn that needs a title)
“Stevie?” Bucky dropped his jacket and dove onto the bed, full panic mode because Steve was crying on the bed, holding onto a pillow and gasping for breath through a sob and Bucky was panicking. “Babydoll what’s wrong? What’s wrong? Do you hurt? Are you sick? Did your cough come back? Is it your heart? Your lungs? The diabetes? What is it?”
“Bucky.” Steve sniffed loudly and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. “I haven’t even had a cold since before the war, its certainly not diabetes, Im not hurting.” He paused, then his face crumpled. “Not physically anyway!”
“Well for fucks sake what’s wrong?” Bucky bellowed, grappling at Steve until the big blonde landed in his lap. “How come I gotta walk into th’ bedroom and you’re cryin?”
“Ireadafic.” Steve mumbled and after a few seconds to interpret the rushed together words, Bucky’s expression cleared in realization, then reclouded in annoyance.
“A fuckin’ fanfic is making you bawl like this? WHY?”
“This writer!” Steve felt around for his tablet. “Whoever this @youknowwhoiam is? They wrote a soulmate fic where they’re in love with us and we’re in love with them and we’re all soulmates? But since we’re super soldiers and don’t really age…”
“We stayed young and they got old and died.” Bucky finished and Steve nodded miserably. “C’mon Stevie, you know ya can’t read fics like that. You remember what happened when you read that one where they cough up flowers because of unrequited love or whatever? You were a mess!”
“I need to tell them I cried over this fic.” Steve blew his nose loudly. “I need an account so I can comment.”
“No one needs to know you’re crying over fanfic.” Bucky said firmly. “Comment anonymously cos I swear to Christ if you comment as Captain America I’ll break up with you.”
so since steve has big bobbies would they bounce during sex?? and would thor call them “pecs” or would he be even more lewd and call them tits
@not-close-to-straight I feel like this is something Clint would bring up in the group chat in not dating commission 😂
Oh good god.
**********************
From Clint: Hey so we’ve been talking about Cap’s butt lately but let me offer a new topic
From Sam: Natasha, tell your man he thinks about Cap’s anatomy too much
From Natasha: I’ll do no such thing. What’s on your mind, husband?
From Clint: We should talk about them Pectorals of Patriotism. I mean have you seen him? He’s bigger than Nat!
From Natasha: Can confirm, I’d have to get implants to match that
From Sam: Yeah, you know, we were running the other day and the man just boings around. He needs a sports bra. They make them in 48 FF right?
From Natasha: Does the FF stand for size Fucking Freedom
From Sam: You’re damn right it does.
From Clint: Okay but here’s my question. The Hammer Man is all old fashioned and calls Steve “beloved” and all that. So do you think he calls those FF Pectorals boobies?
From Sam: He call them tiddies
From Natasha: Breasts
From Tony: I’m going to go ahead and jump in– Chesticles.
From Clint: Please don’t call them chesticles
From Natasha: No no, I like chesticles. Kind of balances out the ones on the bottom right? Chesticles and testicles?
From Sam: I’m on board for chesticles.
From Clint: Yeah alright, Chesticles.
From Tony: I’m going to listen at their door tonight and see if Thor says ‘oh Steven your mighty chesticles will be my end’
From Bucky: You absolutely will not do that Tony, and also STOP TALKING ABOUT MY BEST FRIENDS TITS
From Clint: you call the chesticles tits?
From Sam: oh man he calls the chesticles tits
From Natasha: Bucky, do you like Steve’s tits
From Tony: something we should talk about, Bucky baby?
From Bruce: I need new friends this is the worst group text ever.
Vampire Queen (Diana Prince/Valkyrie)
(This is… Halloween-y? Idk I had a thought and I wrote a thing)
The man lay twisted on silent cobblestones, limp against unfeeling rock.
All too loud his cries had risen, ripping through the late night quiet, echoing through empty streets, falling on deaf ears as curtains were drawn and doors were bolted and eyes were turned away.
He should have known better, they will say in the morning when the newspaper boys find him.
He should have known better, they will say when the doctor isn’t called because he already knows what happened and it isn’t worth his time to care.
He should have known better, they will say when he is tossed aside like so much trash, an unmarked grave that is more a gaping hole where one more nameless body is added to the already too high count.
A man should know better than to wander the streets at night, the whores will say with painted lips and rouged cheeks and a smile that speaks of a certain knowing that the men will never have, a type of knowledge that comes from working the street, from knowing who and what lurks in the shadows to pluck a man away, to take his very soul.
“He wasn’t to your liking, my Queen?” She says from the dark, bending to dip her finger in a river of red and drawing it to her mouth to taste, to inhale, to breathe in what had once held so much life.
“He tasted bitter.” Her Queen answers, and she is terrible and ancient, her voice a whisper to the one she loves and a scream to those whose eavesdrop, a beauty too rich for the Underworld and too vibrant for man, speaking in low tones of secrets and millennia and a hunger that is never quelled.
“He was a politician, a crooked judge.” The other counters, each consonant a death sentence as if his choice in career had marked him as deserving for this fate.
“Ah.” The Queen smiles, sharp edges and sharper fangs curling over her lips, a sure sign of death reflected in her silvered eyes. “Then of course he was bitter.”
“We shall find you something sweet?” She offers then, and it is her own body that she gives over, as desperate tonight for her Queens teeth in her neck as she had been that first night and every night after.
“My love, you tempt me.” The Queen answers. “But it is still before dawn and the hunt calls me.”
“You know they call you their Saint.” She murmurs, “The women of the street do. You strike down those that hurt them, that are too rough, that take what they want . They call you a saint, an angel.”
“I am neither.”
“You are so much more.”
When they kiss it is more gentle than anyone would ever know, a touch of lips, a barest breath, a sweet touch as if the other is too fragile, to precious, as if the night wind that winds through their hair could tear them apart, as if too sudden a moment would break their unbeating hearts.
“You don’t regret it?” Her Queen asks, just as she has every other night. “You don’t regret being mine.”
“I could never.” She whispers and this time the kiss is full of teeth and tongue, fangs and growls, greedy breaths and grasping claws and when Her Queen pushes her into the dark, against a wall, she goes willingly, bares her neck willingly, never closes her eyes because she will never tire of the way her Queen gasps with the first taste of blood, of the way the silvered eyes melt scarlet with desire, with the way her Queen tears at her clothes until they are bare beneath the moon and the night bears witness to their passion.
And then, as they lie together and pant into each other’s mouths, as the shadows themselves rearrange to cloak them from sight, as the city lies quiet and waiting, holding its breath until the Queen speaks again—
—it is then and only then, soft and sweet and yearning, “My darling Valkyrie, how did I ever think I lived without you in my arms?”
“Diana, my Queen.” The name is reverent, a whisper, a privilege, a prayer. “Come hunt with me.”
***************
***************
Another man lies on the docks, pale and still and empty, the fog surrounding him, hiding him until the sun pushes it away and a fisherman spies his form.
Two last night, they say with worried faces. I wonder if she is angry.
Two last night, the doctor says and it’s too early to drink but he drinks anyway. Something must be wrong.
Two last night, they say and no one mourns the politician but the other had done nothing wrong. Why did she take two?
Two last night, the whores say as they leave their corners and head towards home, smiles sharp and brittle and longing because they know what the men will never know.
Two last night, because nothing piques the Queens appetite like moments beneath the moon and the stars with her love, two last night because after crying her pleasure to the abandoned streets she was ravenous, two last night because the Vampire Queen had torn the second ones throat and watched her love, her Valkyrie, drink until she was full and sleepy and had carried her back to their dwelling to watch the sun rise.
Two last night, and no one could be bothered to care.
A man should know better than to wander the streets at night when the Queen is out to roam.
Venom/Deadpool
(TW brief mention of self harm/suicide but it’s DP so… you know)
It’s like 3 am and I haven’t been sleeping and I had this weird thought that Venom/symbrock would be FASCINATED by Deadpool and not in like, a healthy way. Not at first.
Like maybe Venom goes after him because “we can eat bad people” but then, “oh wait, is he really a bad guy?” And then “he definitely just did some bad guy things so let’s eat his arm/head/whatever” and a few nights later they run into that unkillable fucker and are like???? Didn’t we eat you??
And it becomes a weird challenge for Venom to try and get Deadpool and Eddie finds himself sort of oddly…. like huh, there’s someone else like me?
Because like, DP is a monster all on his own, and he hears voices too but it’s not a symbiote who has changed to want to protect their host, no DPs voices are terrible and push him to self harm and he just laughs them off and pushes them away until he can’t anymore and that’s the first time Venom finds DP dead.
And they sort of mourn, Venom does, because now their little game is over and they have to go back to eating normal bad guys and Eddie is sad because he thought he’d finally found someone who could understand his ‘demon’ because Wade had demons of his own?
But then, honestly what the fuck, Wade starts breathing again and complaining about how his head hurts now and ugh Venom could have at least carried him to a park so he could have woken up in a bed of flowers and Eddie laughs in surprise and it’s the first time he’s really laughed in a long time.
Venom doesn’t even phase Wade. When Eddie invites him up for pizza and beer, Wade doesn’t even blink when they get to the shitty apartment and suddenly Eddie is there and Big and Black and Gooey is moving out of his shoulder and taking their own form, Wade just shrugs and says “I charge extra for threesomes” and Eddie laughs again.
It’s healthy in some twisted way, whatever friendship they form because Eddie knows Wade is what he could easily become if Venom hadn’t decided to love him and take care of him and had kept ruining him instead. He could absolutely be a violent unkillable fool who laughs because life has fucked him so far over that everything is funny in some awful way. He could be alone and in pain— yeah, he knows Wade hurts, can tell that the scars and his mutation hurt constantly— and being around Wade makes him appreciate Venom more.
And it’s healthy in some twisted way, because they don’t have to pretend around each other, there isn’t a level of “acceptable” they have to maintain. They can eat mountains of trash, they can sit in the dark and let the depression run deep and awful, they can come out of it and the other one will shrug off the episode because “life sucks and then you don’t die because you’re sort of cursed so you just keep going”.
And it’s healthy in some twisted way because the first time they are binge watching Golden Girls and Wade is lying there, scarred and violent and not giving a single fuck, Eddie leans over and kisses him and Wade grabs him and kisses him back and both of them fully expect Venom to SCREAM and rip them apart because the thing is possessive AF—
—Black ripples from Eddies fingers and Venom touches Wade and hisses over the pain he feels lurking just under the surface, but then he spreads up Wade’s arms to his shoulders and up his neck and down his back and Wade starts to say something about being “down for doing the nasty with that tongue” but then he realizes that the voices are quiet, and he doesn’t really hurt just then and that he’s still kissing Eddie but the other is there too, wrapped around them but lying passive as if protecting them.
They are both fragile and damaged and pushed out of acceptable society and far from what they had been, but here they are wound together and it works.
It’s not love, not even close, but it works.
It’s barely even lust, mostly it’s about being able to touch someone and not being afraid of them leaving/screaming/hating it, but it works.
It’s random nights and early afternoons and weeks without saying a word to each other and doing dangerous things off roof tops because Wade can’t die and Eddie is Protected, and screaming when they fight and waking up from nightmares and pretending the other doesn’t hear even though they cling to each other afterwards and laughing until it hurts their sides, but it works.
The first time Wade sees Venom fucking Eddie, he gets popcorn and sits on the floor and watches because why not?
The first time Eddie goes down on him, Wade keeps up a non stop commentary on those perfect fucking lips and only shuts up when Venom presses against and into him and he finally gets a taste of that particular benefit.
The first time Wade kisses Eddie goodbye and calls him babe out the door all three of them go very very still because this is different than the usual.
Wade laughs it off, Eddie doesn’t say anything at all and Venom is curious.
After that, it’s the first time in a long time that Wade tries to hurt himself and Venom SURGES from Eddies skin and wraps himself around Wade to stop it all from happening.
It’s healthy in a twisted sort of way, whatever they have, and sometimes they joke about how the only other human Venom can stand is barely human at all.
But it works.
Spideypool Dragon AU
MASTERPOST AND ADDITIONAL POSTS HERE
Feel free to submit asks about the AU!
***************************
“May.”
May screamed out loud and threw the basket of laundry in the air when Peter popped up from behind the couch in her study, her stripes flashing across her skin, eyes snapping orange as her tiger tried to come forward.
“May– stop screaming and oh god stop growling, it’s just me. What do you know about dragon shifters?”
“Peter Benjamin Parker.” A hand pressed dramatically over her heart, May pointed her other finger at him, forcing her shift back so she could talk clearly. “First you apologize for scaring the bejeesus out of me–”
“Sorry, May.”
“– and second, why are you asking about dragon shifters? No one has seen one of those in centuries.”
“Since the Great War?” Peter held up the book so she could see it. “Right? The last official sighting of a dragon shifter was during the Battle for the Valley, right?”
“Yes, the last official sighting was during the Great War, here in the valley, but Peter that was three hundred years ago. Do you think you saw one when you were out hiking? I’ve heard rumours that there is a big shifter in the mountains, but no one’s actually seen anything, which means its probably a bear shifter playing tricks on everyone else.”
“Three hundred years.” Peter sort of collapsed onto the couch, all long legs and arms sprawled around. “Why would someone get stuck in a shift?”
“There are only two reasons why someone is stuck in a shift.” May started picking up the laundry, scowling in his direction. “If they were forced into the shift to save their human half, or if they did something terrible in their shift and gave in to their animal half too much.”
“So if they were in danger?”
“You see it more often with the wilder shifts.” May balled up a pair of socks and tossed them at him. “For example, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll drop into my tiger shift and good luck getting me out of it. Or–” a severe glare when Peter started laughing at the thought of his Aunt permanently fuzzed out into her tiger. “–or if you were in danger, I’d probably shift as well and not be able to come out of it until I knew you were safe, and probably for a few days after that as well.”
“Alright.” Peter flipped through the book. “So, the bigger the shifter the harder it is to move between forms, right?”
“Right. You’ve seen Avians burst into feathers and fly away at a moments notice, but bears and wolves take longer. My tiger takes longer than your Uncle Ben’s lion did because my shift is bigger.”
“So something– say a dragon? It would take a long time to shift up or down into his form?”
“…sure.” May narrowed her eyes at him. “Why the questions, Peter?”
“No reason.” Peter cleared his throat. “And the other reason for being stuck in a shift? For letting their animal side influence them too much?”
“Yes. But it would have to be something awful.” May clucked her tongue when she saw the stains that hadn’t come out of Peter’s shirt. “Murder, for example. Mostly wolves, sometimes bears. They lose control of their shift and kill another shifter, and alot of times they are forced into a permanent shift.”
“But mentally.” Peter frowned. “Wouldn’t it wreak havoc on a shifters mental state to be stuck in animal form?”
“Of course it does.” May met his eyes steadily. “And when they lose their mind, they are put down. No shifter stuck in their animal half is stable for longer than a few years at most.”
“Right. Well, thank you.” Peter hopped up and over the couch, heading out the door. “I’m going to head out to the woods for a while and–”
“Peter, wait.” May snagged his sleeve. “This obsession with the woods, the mountains, all these questions about dragon shifters. What’s going on?”
“I’m not– I’m not really sure.” Peter admitted. “But I think I’ll have some answers pretty soon.”
themusechronicles 