It's called a Baby Monitor Protocol.

I hope ur doing amazing <3 I was just wondering if you have any Spiderson and Irondad fanfic recs? Thanks smm!

I have an EXTENSIVE library of fic recs, but here are just a few of my favorites that come to mind:

And You’ll Blow Us All Away by losingmymindtonight —> A classic Tony-adopts-Peter fic. Hurt/comfort with a nice balanced amount of each. Must read Irondad and Spiderson literature. Recommended by one of my moots, and is probably one of my all time favorite fics now.

S.O.S (Somehow Obtained Son) by madasthesea —> Gotta be one of the best short fics of all time. The origin of my Morse code headcanon.

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley —> Protective Tony, Peter having stress seizures. Good hurt/comfort. JAWorley is just a very good author in general, and I highly recommend their stuff if you’re into Irondad.

deshiscence by Eccentric_Grace (@gracieparkerr on here!!) —> Heartbreaking hurt/comfort. I also recommend her other stuff too. I swear this isn’t nepotism. She genuinely writes peak fics.

Accepting The Tides by Emma_Anacortes —> This is an amazing fic, but please be warned. It showcases an emotionally manipulative parent very well, to the degree where it almost gave me a panic attack and I had to stop reading. Deadass. I’m still recommending it, however, because what I was able to read was very good, and I really hope to finish it one day. If this or any of the other content tagged is something that triggers you, maybe skip this one. Just read the tags and please be careful!!

I also have an Ao3 as well that I occasionally post on when I actually finish something! There’s some extra infinity gap stuff over too, if you want to check it out.

cursed him from the moment he touched him

marvel parallels 57/?

“—and then, blam-blam! Do-do-do-do—blam blam blam! Blam! There’s this totally crazy laser beam that just — whoosh! — went right over my head and I’m like, holy cow—! It was insane, Mr. Stark, you should’ve seen it!”

Peter’s voice stretched thin where it tried to sound excited, pulled taut over something fragile beneath his vocal cords; barely rising above the steady chimes and beeps of the many machines lining the room.

It was a space he knew all too well by now — the kind of familiarity earned through frequent repetition. And each one, he made sure to note, was against his liking.

Both he and Mr. Stark had both spent way too much time here over the past year.

At least this time, he got a bigger room.

“Mhm-hm.” Pressed shoulder-to-shoulder beside him, Tony managed to wedge himself into the hospital bed without complaint. Half-reclined against the raised backing, his head tipped slightly back with his eyes shut, looking almost like he was dozing off; if not for the attentiveness hidden in every quiet hum of acknowledgment he gave.

Both his arms folded loosely across his chest, almost lackadaisically. He listened to Peter’s constant ramblings like it was any other day.

“Then there’s this crazy bright light, and next thing I know Thor flies right over me — and Vision, Mr. Stark it was so crazy, he just tore through everything with his yellow stone laser thing and there were lasers everywhere — blam! Blam blam! It was insane!”

The room itself seemed to breathe in quiet, artificial rhythms, a sharp contrast to Peter’s highly excited and breathless chattering. Ventilation whispered through hidden ducts as purified air filtered down from the ceiling. Sleek panels hummed low along the walls, transparent displays flickering faint blue light that painted everything in a sterile, muted glow.

Somewhere behind him, a pump cycled with strict precision — whirr…pause…whirr — pushing fluids through clear lines that disappeared beneath the tangle of blankets and tape at Peter’s arms; a steady, persistent soundtrack that had been on nonstop repeat.

“…and then you fly by — at first I had no idea it was you, ‘cause, you know, there was so much going on. And then one second I’m still strapped to the table and the next…wait, no, the next…no, that was after Bucky tried to get me out, which — okay, that part was insane, ‘cause he just, like, came outta nowhere…and there was fire everywhere! I swear, even the ceiling was on fire, and there were these like, fire-balls flying around that just fwoosh! fshhrr! It was everywhere — it was so crazy, Mr. Stark!”

Though animated with excitement, Peter’s eyes still looked utterly drained beneath it all, faded pale and hollow with dark exhaustion carved deep beneath them in bruised half-moons. Yet his words still came out quick and eager, tripping in uneven bursts, each word rushed for the next. All as his voice thinned into something weak and crackly, his breaths catching on themselves as the energy started to slip away.

Tony wasn’t surprised Peter kept talking, words spilling out in stubborn defiance. The kid had already informed him and every nurse that passed by that he was, verbatim, “more sick of sleeping than sitting through A.P. Bio.”

Tony didn’t argue with that. After all, he’d seen how this would end.

“Mhm-hm,” he hummed, low and steady.

He just let the kid have the sliver of wakefulness while it held.

“One second I’m laying there, and the next — wait, no, Groot. Did I tell you about Groot?” Peter pushed on, his voice lower in volume yet still persistent all the same. “He was yelling — or, you know, Groot-yelling, which is still yelling, I think, just more…plant-like? I don’t know, it was weird…and I think Bucky was throwing Rocket, that raccoon, at some point. That I could’ve imagined. That was really weird. It was all so crazy, Mr. Stark!”

Tony listened to the recollection with one ear tuned to Peter, and the other turned to the machines. His attention flickered between the rise and fall of Peter’s voice and the steady lines on the monitors. Never fully settling on either.

Still, his response came easily. Familiar.

Automatic.

“Mhm-hm.”

While he’d never tell the kid, Tony didn’t exactly require the play-by-play from Peter. He’d lived through the same battle with significantly more consciousness and substantially less blood being siphoned out of his body at the time. Safe to say, his version of events had considerably fewer gaps in it.

And whatever gaps adrenaline and panic had left in his own memory, FRIDAY had spent the last several days methodically tearing apart every second of footage available. Suit telemetry, thermal scans, comm logs, HUD recordings — replaying the disaster on an endless loop while searching for anything that could give them answers.

Anything that explained what Osborn had turned himself into.

“And then this music starts playing — old people music, Mr. Stark, like, really old — and then Star-Lord’s just flying around shooting stuff and there were explosions and yelling and Thor was crashing through walls —”

But somehow, none of the footage or his own recollection hit quite the same as hearing Peter talk about it.

Maybe, he figured, just maybe — it was because the kid recounted the whole nightmare like it had been some sort of chaotic Avengers field trip instead of the closest Tony had ever come to losing him since actually losing him.

“This is the first time in my tenure as Spider-Man that I was kind of welcomed into the writers’ room, me and the producers would meet once every two weeks to pitch ideas and discuss our ambitions and what we wanted to try and do. My pitch when I came to the table with it was called ‘Spider-Puberty’, what happens if Peter Parker is losing control and things are changing?” ‘Spider-Puberty’ was my tagline pitch to the studio — which was immediately shot down, but they liked the kernel of the idea and it grew into what we have in the movie now.”

You know who he is.

I really had no idea that a passion project would ever be seen to this extent.

Despite being a writer, I fail to express my gratitude in words.

Icarus and Daedalus

“its been a long week, kid. get some rest now.”

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