Far From Home/Endgame fix-it. Lots of angst and drama, but also a ton of fluff. Let's just go with Natasha's still alive because they returned the stones. Peter's secret identity is still intact though. Very superfamily, civil war didn't really happen. Peter primarily lives at the Compound, but since Endgame he was over more at May's. 

Mysterio was dead.

Probably.

Peter had just finished destroying the rest of the drones and found a recording device, which he promptly disposed of. He didn't want any more truth to be twisted around. 

That was an excellent decision, even though he didn't know it.

"Mr. Parker, someone has entered the premises," EDITH told him quickly through the glasses. Peter narrowed his eyes, searching through the destruction for a hint of movement. Was this just another trick?

When he finally caught a glimpse of a person, Peter was unprepared. 

"Hey, kid!" A familiar voice, soft with concern and happiness. 

Peter could barely form any words. "Mr. Stark?"

Tony's face broke into an grin. "The one and only!"

Peter inspected him, altogether confused and hopeful and yet utterly exhausted. 

"I know it's pretty crazy, I'm not dead, but I got hooked up with this super cool metal arm, it looks realistic, and-" "Stop." 

Tony broke off as soon as Peter spoke. Shock had registered in his eyes, as well as confusion. 

"You're not even real, are you? I already told you, you can't trick me anymore!" Peter said, searching for any sign of Beck in the ruins as he started to cry.

"W-what are you talking about? Underoos, I-" 

Peter stood up, gasping at the bullet wound as it sent waves of pain through him, and stalked toward Tony.

Well, not Tony.

"Stop. Playing. Dumb. I've had enough of your stupid games! You tried to kill me, and then kill every single person I've ever loved! Using the real  Mr. Stark's tech. And if that's not enough, you torture me - of course one of the last things you've said to me until now is that I'm a disappointment. And now  you try to do this? Haven't you done enough, Mr. Beck? "

Peter's voice was trembling through the whole thing, with a mixture of anger and sadness, tears starting to drip down his face.

"Kid, I'm not-" Tony reached out a hand placatingly. 

Peter flinched away. Hearing Tony's voice so injured and worried made it feel like the man was back alive. 

"Just leave me alone!" He yelled, clutching his mask in one hand so tightly that his knuckles were whitening and the fabric was starting to rip.

Peter turned to run away, leaving Tony standing there, alone.

 Leaving Mysterio there, with his last illusion he'd ever make now that Peter was back in control.

Tony's POV

"What the hell happened to you?"

Tony started to move after Peter, who was rapidly running out of view. 

Tony slowly raised a hand to his ear, where a small earpiece connected to FRIDAY was.

"Call the Avengers. We have an issue."

-------

Tony sat at the head of the table, staring at the people assembled.

"The time I was... out. In the coma. Nobody told him I wasn't dead?" He cast a look around the table. 

Nobody volunteered an answer. 

Tony dropped his head into his hands. "Great. And now it's too late."

Natasha sighed. Peter wouldn't know she was alive either, and apparently he had been devastated when he'd first heard.

She looked accusingly around the table, at everyone except Tony. "I was dead most of the time it happened. What were you guys thinking?"

Sam dropped his eyes to stare at the floor. "We didn't realize... he left and then went to Europe and we couldn't get to him."

Tony scoffed. "We have planes for a reason. And Fury got to him, so how couldn't you? He didn't know I was alive while he was over there!"

Again, everyone was silent.

"Do you even know what he's been through?" Natasha asked the table threateningly. "Why didn't any of you even bother to check up and help him, especially while he was in Europe with the giant monsters! And then he was tricked and betrayed by a guy called Mysterio!" 

Haha Mysterio was the 666th word.

Guilty looks spread over the faces of everyone at the table.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You guys are useless. And now he doesn't know what is real," She stated. Tony stood up angrily. "We have to find him. If you guys had done something, he wouldn't be like this!" The man added.

Steve finally spoke. "I understand that we messed up. But we can't go blaming each other for things now. We have to help Peter."

Peter's POV

Peter was finally back in classes. After the incident with Mysterio - particularly when he was masquerading as Tony - things hadn't quite been the same. 

Nightmares were now a nightly business. 

"If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive."

"I mean, look at yourself. You are just a scared little kid in a sweatsuit!"

"It's easy to fool people if they're already fooling themselves."

"I trusted you." "I know. And that's the most disappointing part."

"They'll believe anything."

Peter supposed he was justified in that realm, he was shot multiple times and hit by a train, and thrown off a building and such.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

"Hey, kid!"

"Underoos-"

"The one and only."

It was never going to happen again.

Right?

----------

"Peter."

Another voice on the way to school. 

Or rather, the same one.

"Underoos, we have to talk," Tony said.

Mysterio said.

"What are you even doing? Why are you still here? The only reason I haven't done anything is because you're not actively trying to hurt anyone, or kill them!" Peter cried, turning away.

A firm hand fell on his shoulders, reminiscent of the day they first met.

"Kid, it's me. Really. What do I have to do to convince you?"

Peter watched, horror struck, as tears started to form in both of their eyes.

"I can't let you trick me again, Quentin. You betrayed me. I'm doing you a huge favor by not ending you right now. Turning you in to the police. Not that I could, because I can't reveal my identity. But I would."

Beck/Tony stared at Peter, realistically distressed. 

"Peter, I-"

"Just drop it. It's not real."

----------

Peter walked out of school - Ned and MJ had already left.

He was halfway to May's house when a distinctive cough came from the alleyway.

"Hey, little spider."

Dread and hope were warring inside Peter as he turned to look at his aunt, leaning casually against a wall.

"You're dead," Peter stated, trying to make himself believe it. "My aunt is dead."

Natasha's face morphed into one of sympathy. "маленький паук, I know it's hard to believe."

She was studying his face the way she always did, and decided to stay back.

It was good that she did, Peter couldn't have handled it otherwise.

"Are you done yet?" He asked flatly. A bit of surprise sparked in Natasha's eyes, but she seemed to have expected it.

"I know what Mysterio did to you. But let me tell you what happened. And then, if you don't believe me, you can leave."

Peter hesitantly remained in place, but on edge and waiting for any Spidey Sense alerts. 

"I died getting the Soul Stone. But it was an exchange. A soul for a soul. Return a soul, and you get one back. So when Steve took them back, I came back." Peter eyed her warily. "Tony was in a coma from the stones. Nobody told you. I would've, but," Natasha laughed wryly. "I couldn't have, for obvious reasons."

Peter eyed her warily. "If you're really Natasha... then tell me something only she and I would know."

Natasha looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "We were patrolling, and you were talking to me, and you swung right into a building."

Peter flushed. "Anyone could have seen that."

"Not everyone would know I was there," Natasha countered.

"One day you told me that you had a man-crush on Thor. You helped me prank Clint and dye his hair green. I came to all your Decathlon meets and talked to you after, even though nobody else saw me. You introduced MJ to me, and the first thing she said was 'Wow, that's Natasha fucking Romanoff'. We were training and you tore your shirt, so I gave you one of mine and you told me it would be one of your prized possessions. You-"

Peter cut her off by folding himself into a tight hug with her. She was tangible, she was here, she was real.

"You are so gullible. I mean, smart as a whip. Just a... sucker."

Peter recoiled quickly as the memory resurfaced. Natasha let him, clearly not wanting to scare him. "Peter? What's wrong?"

"Are you real?" He checked one more time. It seemed like a stupid question, but he needed to hear it one more time.

"Yes. Peter, I'm real."

Then he was crying again but Natasha was there once more to pull him into a soothing hug. 

"It's okay, маленький паук. I'm here."

---------

"So... wait, that Mr. Stark I saw in London wasn't an illusion?" Peter asked as they walked downtown. 

"Ah... no, he wasn't. Although I would've thought the same."

"And the one the other day?"

"Nope."

Peter buried his head in his hands. "I'm so stupid. I should've known..."

Natasha touched his shoulder gently. "You couldn't have. After everything you've been through, I'm surprised you're still functioning. You're probably the strongest person I've ever known," She told him. 

The compound loomed in front of them soon, and Peter's heart was racing.

Please don't be an illusion, please, please...

"Hey, Pete," Steve said, sitting solemnly on a bench. As soon as he had returned the stones, Natasha had told him, he had come directly back with her.

"Uncle Steve," Peter breathed, flinging his arms around the man. "I missed you... I'm so sorry I didn't visit..."

Steve ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, kid. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

They made it to the kitchen.

And sitting upright on a stool was none other than Tony Stark.

Peter's breath hitched, and he felt his heart speed up. 

"Hey, kid," Tony said for the third time in a few weeks.

"If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive."

Tony exchanged a glance with Natasha, then smiled comfortingly at Peter. "It's me."

Is it, though? Is it really you? Or am I being played for a fool again?

"Mr. Stark?" Peter managed, hoping desperately that it was real.

Tony spread his arms out, and Peter folded into them, crying in relief and desperation. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wasn't good enough, you were hurt-" Peter stammered through his tears. "Kid, what are you talking about? You did everything right."

Peter ducked his head. "But I gave away your glasses, and got hit by a train, and-"

"I'm sorry, you got hit by what now? Never mind. We'll discuss it later. EDITH is replaceable. You are not."

Peter started crying again.

"Stay here?" Tony asked.

"I'll text May that I'm back to living here."

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

Peter was chatting excitedly in the common room with the Avengers. 

Tony walked over with an easy grin. "So, you told who about Spider-Man? And the illusions?"

Peter froze at the familiar words that Beck had also said the basics of. 

It's Tony. This is fine. I'm safe.

"Well, I told MJ and Ned. Ned had a girlfriend at the time, so I'm not sure if she knows. But then Happy figured out the illusions and probably May now, too."

Tony chuckled, ruffling Peter's hair again.

A chill swept through the room, raising goosebumps on Peter's skin.

"Peter. Like I said, you're smart. But too gullible. Too trustful. How do you know that any time has even passed?"

Blackness covered Peter's vision, and Mysterio had replaced Tony.

"You think you know what's going on. But you don't.  Did you ever even leave London?"

The scene rippled, and Peter was standing back in the Tower Bridge, in the middle of all the destruction.

"No..." Peter breathed, frantically looking around. He was still in his Spider-Man suit, the one he had made with Happy. 

Had he ever really left?

"And now I have two other people that you would tell the story. Two other targets to be eliminated."

Peter was standing on the roof of a building again. He watched as Beck ordered his drones to shoot Ned and Betty. Throw MJ off the side of the building. Aunt May and Happy bombed in the middle of the road below.

"This isn't - it isn't real, you're dead! I saw you die!" Mysterio chuckled as the area around him faded to black, and it was only the two of them.

"I don't think you know what's real," He sneered. Peter punched at him, only for it to go right through him.

Mysterio blasted Peter back into a wall. He shot a web at the illusionist, and pulled the man toward him with all his strength. There was a creaking sound, and Peter dodged out of the way as a large building came crashing down toward him.

"I know what's real. You're dead !" Peter exclaimed, fully aware that desperation had entered his voice. 

"You're right," Mysterio said abruptly.

Peter sat up in his bed, distraught and alone.

He fumbled his way into the hallway.

"It was just a dream," Peter told himself. "FRIDAY? Where's Tony?" He asked.

"Boss is in the lab," The AI replied. Peter made his way down to the lab and slid open the door.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," Peter said hoarsely. Tony looked up from his work and smiled at him.

"What's up, Peter?" He inquired. "I, uh, just had a nightmare. About, you know, Mysterio."

Tony beckoned for Peter to come closer, and Peter went for the hug. They had a sweet moment until Tony pulled back.

Tony's face contorted. "You're pathetic," He spat. Peter's eyes widened. "You can't even get through a small fight without scaring yourself. Can't you do anything?" Tony continued. 

Peter recoiled, backing up against the wall. "M-Mr. Stark?" He asked, voice trembling. 

"You're useless. I can't believe I ever saw anything in you."

Peter started to cry. 

"Remember when I said I was the only one to believe in you? That was true. It's a shame I don't believe in you anymore." Every single one of Tony's words was like a knife.

"You want to know when  I lost hope in you?" Tony continued angrily. 

"N-no," Peter whimpered, hating the look of savage satisfaction on Tony's face.

"Probably Titan, don't you think?" 

Peter shook his head, vision blurred with tears, not wanting to hear about the war he had died in.

"You couldn't even live through that. You couldn't get the gauntlet. You barely made it through any fight for more than two seconds."

Peter paled, huddling in the corner.

"I don't - please, Mr. Stark! I didn't mean to!" 

"You said it yourself. You weren't good enough. News flash! You're never going  to be."

Tears were dripping down Peter's cheeks. Exactly what he thought about himself, confirmed by Tony. Then he saw Tony's face glitch for a moment.

"Pretty sure this isn't real," He muttered through his tears. "Pretty sure."

"I thought you said you knew what was real," Mysterio announced through Tony, smugness evident in his tone.

"Leave me alone!" Peter yelled, lashing out at the air around him.

Tony approached slowly. "A perfect disguise, don't you think? You could never hurt your own father," Beck said scornfully.

"Peter?" Tony asked, walking into the lab. 

The real Tony?

Beck-Tony smirked. "And here he is now!" Tony looked up at Beck-Tony, shock in his eyes. "What the hell?"

Before Tony could move, Beck-Tony was behind him and then a knife was sticking through Tony's gut.

Peter cried out, reaching for Tony, who was collapsing onto the ground, blood pooling around him.

"What a disappointment!" Beck exclaimed. "Still, with a second chance, you couldn't save him!"

Peter flinched hard as he started to cry once more.

And then he was sitting up in bed again.

"Peter?" Tony asked, kneeling beside him in concern.

Peter recoiled, jumping back against the wall.

"Stop!" He yelled desperately. "I don't want to go through this anymore!"

Tony frowned, confused. "Kid, are you okay?"

"Are you just going to keep trying this? At some point, I'm going to realize that I wasn't dreaming! I know you're still here, Mr. Beck! Please just stop!" Peter wailed, starting to cry.

"Kid, I thought we told you. I was in a coma. Natasha came back with Steve, not the Soul Stone."

Peter frowned. Could Mysterio know that? Or was he still fabricating things?

Had the past days been an illusion?

Weeks?

Even months?

"What's going on?" Peter asked Probably-Not-Tony.

"You were... having a nightmare. Are you okay?" 

Peter scoffed. "Get some originality. That's what you played last time." 

Probably-Not-Tony grinned a bit, but it was quickly overlapped with concern and determination. "When I recruited you for a possible war, I invaded your house and was eating your aunt's bread. The war didn't end up happening, but I'd already decided I loved you. As a son. So the first thing I said to you after it was 'You were my good luck charm, Underoos'."

Peter stared at Maybe-Tony as the man started blurting out all their life experiences.

"One day in the labs you blew up a prototype for a new web-shooter. You cursed, and then Steve walked in to say his Language™. He figured out you were Spider-Man when he saw the blueprints. He started to say something about children being dangerous on the Avengers. You told him it was as cold as the ice he was frozen in for 70 years. Steve left the room, embarrassed."

Peter edged slowly closer to Probably-Tony.

"And when I took your suit I said if you were nothing without it then you shouldn't have it. But later I told you I never believed that you were ever nothing without the suit. Because you were also Peter Parker, not Spider-Man."

Definitely Tony. Peter hugged him tightly and tried to hide his tears.

"I'm so sorry - I just don't know what to do! I don't know how to tell real from fake, what I know and what's an illusion."

Tony smiled. "It's a good thing we have someone in the compound that's relatively experienced in that."

-----------

Peter was having sessions with Bucky. They were working surprisingly well. Almost the entire time, he was able to tell when he actually woke up from a nightmare and when he wasn't.

Sadly, there were still times when he woke, confused and afraid, having to be consoled by his teammates. 

His family.

Aww, family was the 3000th word <3

At some point in the chaos, Peter had stopped going to school after experiencing many panic attacks when he saw his class.

Today was his first day back.

And, unsurprisingly, they had decided to make a big production of it.

And they wouldn't take no for an answer.

Peter got into a car with Tony, and Natasha revved her motorcycle behind them. Bruce was driving his car, and Steve and Bucky each had motorcycles of their own. Sam had decided to fly in.

Clint was using a cool motorbike they had picked up on a mission, and Wanda would fly with Vision, Pietro running beneath them.

Rhodey was using the War Machine suit at Tony's request, and Pepper was tagging along too, although in a sane way - shotgun in Tony's car in a business outfit.

Thor and Loki were going to "Bifrost" in, whatever that meant.

If I'm forgetting anyone, I'm really sorry haha

So Peter was considering buying a mask and hiding.

Or moving to Wakanda with Shuri. The girl had offered, anyways.

But that morning, Tony had roused him from his bed and gave him a smirk. "Let's do this."

Peter groaned and hid inside the car as soon as he finished breakfast. 

A few minutes later, they were at Midtown. Peter grabbed his backpack and tried to get out as inconspicuously as possible. However, when you're with all of the Avengers, inconspicuous doesn't exactly work.

Tony kicked open his door dramatically and opened Peter's, grinning. 

Natasha, on her motorcycle, helped Peter out and rolled her eyes at the team. 

"Is there a reason we've decided to do this?" She inquired.

"Just because," Sam told her, landing cleanly on the ground.

Natasha sighed. "Let's just find the principal. I'm going to be staying with Peter today. The rest of you will get your turns."

Principal Morita had been shocked when all the Avengers - minus Spider-Man for obvious reasons - had crowded into his office.

"Hello, I'm Tony Stark. I trust you've heard of me." 

He had dropped his papers on his desk and looked at Tony in shock. "I- uh, yes, I have. What do you need?" Morita inquired quickly.

"One of us," Natasha told him, gesturing at the Avengers, "will be with him every day."

Morita stared at Peter. "I, uh, that is allowed I suppose, but you need a signed letter by a guardian explaining why."

Tony sighed loudly. "That is confidential. And here you go," He said, pointing at Natasha.

"We've all been registered as backup guardians and co-guardians," She said, placing a paper down on the principal's desk. All it said was 'The information you inquired for is confidential, under law and the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division confidentiality system. Natasha Romanoff.'

Morita had reluctantly agreed.

Hence the chaos.

Natasha strolled into class with Peter and sat down next to him. Ned had come in to sit and gave him a surprised look and a hug. 

"Peter!" He exclaimed. "You're back!" 

Peter grinned, having missed his best friend. "Yep."

Ned noticed Natasha sitting there and his shock increased. "Okay, should I even question this?"

Peter just shook his head silently, and Natasha looked over and grinned at Ned.

"Oooh! That's your girlfriend, right?" She whispered, attention momentarily diverted.. Peter looked over and saw MJ entering the classroom. 

MJ caught sight of him and grinned, excitement showing in her eyes until it was stomped down. She walked over and dropped her stuff on a desk next to Peter's. 

"Sup, loser?" She asked, hiding a smirk. 

"Hey, MJ," Peter replied, equally amused. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Oh! Uh, this is my aunt, Natasha! My family has decided that they need to stalk me at school for some reason," Peter added hastily, smiling.

MJ, careful and controlled in her reactions and emotions as always, smirked. "Cool."

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

Then, of course, came the day Peter terribly wanted to avoid at all costs.

The one he knew would happen eventually.

The day Tony accompanied him to school.

Waking up, Peter dressed to try and avoid attention. Of course, Tony would have other ideas. He wasn't exactly known for his subtlety. 

Peter jumped into the car and they drove out to Midtown.

Tony stepped out of the car with his paparazzi smile. Reporters were swarming them. Typically when out together they were more inconspicuous, but something like the Avengers following a kid around was not going unnoticed.

"Mr. Stark! Who is this kid?"

"Mr. Stark! Why are you following him?"

"Mr. Stark! What is this kid to you?"

Tony smirked at the questions, until his face changed, growing darker.

"I can answer all those questions," He said smugly.

"His name is Peter Parker. I'm following him because he's too useless  to deal with a villain on his own. What is he to  me? He's a burden. The team likes him for whatever reason, but they all know the truth. He only drags us down. He is not good enough."

Peter paled at the words. "Mr. Stark," He managed, cringing at the quiet desperation in his voice. 

"Oh, do shut up. Crying like a baby as soon as someone tells you the blunt truth. You contribute nothing. You're smart. Really. But you can't see past your own desperation," Tony lectured, face contorted into a glare.

"You don't-" Peter faltered. You don't mean that.

"Oh, but I do. You're trapped in a web. Rather ironic, isn't it?" Tony's voice had changed, to a more sardonic glee and amusement. 

"Caught in the one thing you try to use to save other people. Emphasis there on try. You can't save anyone. You're not worth it. You are a failure, bottom line," He elaborated. 

Tony was right.

He couldn't do anything correctly.

No. This wasn't Tony. Tony wouldn't do this to him.

"I see you've figured it out. Every single time! You think you've escaped, but you're wrong."

Something happened to the scene, and Tony started to ripple, turning into an Ultron.

"You're a puppet. Tangled in strings," It claimed.

Then Peter was yanked into the sky by his own webs, helpless to escape.

"Strings..." The robot mused.

Peter choked back a sob. He didn't know what was real. Did Bucky ever really teach him about how to avoid dreams? Dreams that weren't dreams but still seemed too far away to be classified as real. Were they real? Who knew? Not Peter, that was for sure.

Peter's crying turned into a hysterical laugh at that train of thought.

"You know what was most disappointing about you?" Mysterio taunted, slowly forming in place of the Ultron. 

"The fact that, time after time, you still think you've escaped. You haven't even left!"

The familiar sound of a train horn came, and then Peter was thrown against an invisible wall with a horrible crack.

"I can't-" Peter gasped, clutching at his side with the free hand that wasn't tangled in a web.

Is this real?

Is any of this real?

And once again, Peter had sat bolt upright in his bed.

Is it real?

Tony was at his side, speaking softly. 

"Are you okay, kid?" He whispered. Peter frowned. "Are you real?" Tony's concerned look mixed with sympathy. The man started rubbing Peter's back. "Another nightmare?" He asked quietly.

Peter fixed Tony with a stare.

Is it real?

"Bucky's in the other room. Do you need me to get him?

Peter looked around his room, eyes narrowed, searching for any detail that could possibly be wrong.

Is it real?

He couldn't find anything out of place.

Is it real? Is it real? Is it real?

"I don't-" Peter sobbed as he flinched away from Tony. "I don't know if any of this is real!"

Tony put a grounding hand on Peter's shoulder. 

"I'm real, kid."

Peter met his eyes, sparking with hope. 

It's real?

"I'm real," Tony repeated. Peter took a shaky breath. 

"No," He whispered. "You're not."

A laugh echoed around the room as it turned black. "Wow, congratulations! For the first time, you've proved yourself to not be a completely gullible, scared kid!"

Peter's eyes blurred with returning tears. "What gave it away this time? Do tell. I thought I did quite a good job!"

He awoke when Tony kicked the door open. "What's going on? FRIDAY said you were having a really bad nightmare. Do I need to kill someone? Get Bucky?"

Peter closed his eyes and pressed himself against the wall. The same offer of getting Bucky.

"You're doing a great job, Mr. Beck. Practice makes perfect, you know. Maybe someday I'll actually believe you again."

A hesitant voice. "Kid?"

"I know you're not real. You can't make me believe you anymore."

Beck's chilling laughter came again. "Not bad! You really aren't the same as I thought you were!"

He was right. Of course he was. What was going on? Was Peter ever going to get back to real life? Unless, of course, this was real life and he was simply trying to believe Mysterio that he actually had a family in the Avengers that cared about him.

Peter kept his eyes closed. Voices came and went.

Tony, May, Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Bruce, Rhodey - all of them at some point.

All of them lies.

Peter cracked open his eyes at one point, only to 'wake up' again.

"Peter's Personal Panic Parlour, how can I help you?" He asked dryly as Tony walked into the room.

The man turned around and left for a split second, before walking back in with an exasperated grin. 

"Orphan jokes, nihilistic humor, now this? Can't stop you from making bad jokes, huh?" Tony inquired. Peter raised an eyebrow. More realistic than some of the things Beck had done. 

Is it real?

Tony's face grew more serious. "FRIDAY said you had a nightmare."

Peter heard voices outside the door.

His family was there, talking. He wanted to listen in, but he was distracted.

"We wanted to make sure you were okay."

Is it real?

"You're doing better, Mr. Beck," Peter tried dryly, waiting to see the Maybe-Possibly-Tony's reaction.

Instead of a satisfaction, it was a sympathetic, concerned, comforting smile.

The man reached out to hug him. "Another one of those, huh? We'll take care of it, the two of us."

Is it real?

The team busted into the room, with a lot of yelling and confusion.

"Peter, we're here," Sam said unnecessarily. 

Is it real?

"Yeah, no shit." Tony opened his arms for a hug as Peter slowly calmed down at the comfortable familiarity of the group. Natasha joined in as Peter accepted the embrace, and the rest of the team inserted themselves. Their relationship went far past colleagues, and they all knew and cared for each other better than they knew or cared about themselves.

It was what made them such a great team. Such a great family.

Peter let himself be happy, and relaxed into the hug.

It's real.

Happy Rosh Hashanah, friends!

Wow, two updates in a row! I'm really proud. I hope this makes up for such a short update yesterday!

Mindfuck of the day:

(Found on Tumblr)

Two students, James and John were given a grammar test by their teacher. The question was "is it better to use "had" or "had had" in this example sentence?" 

The teacher collected the tests and looked over their answers.

James, while John had had "had", had had "had  had." "Had  had" had had a better effect on the teacher.

Welcome to fucking english.

Enjoy your week and your night/day/whatever!