#canncnbcy

[sensesdialed-aa]

“ i don’t want to scare you off . ”

@canncnbcy​ // i don’t know how but they found me sentence starters

     IT WOULD TAKE A LOT to drive Peter away from a situation when he’s in the suit-- goes both ways, too, but where he tends to be reclusive without the mask, Peter has thrown himself into questionable and dangerous events ALIKE while on patrol. Buildings erupted in flames with people who need to be saved, armed robberies with bullets to dodge, illegal alien weapons. He doesn’t EXACTLY grasp what’s going on yet, but if those don’t manage to scare him off, he doubts this will. 

    “I- uh, wouldn’t say I’m easily scared off, man! Seriously, I’m CHILL...I think, when it comes to this kinda stuff! Besides, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man thing is basically like my job, I signed up for this! ...What exactly are you talking about, though?”

[cadreformed]

♢ Sam & his Ma obviously <3

aes::accepting

I messed up on the PSD placement but Im too lazy to redo it.

PSD 

[jasonbrennerold]

“     𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥     𝐦𝐞     𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭     𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝.     ”

𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝     𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜     :     accepting     :     @canncnbcy

he never says much, even if there’s a lot he wants to say. conditioned, full of fear, never really taught much about socializing. most of his time spent locked away alone, only the occasional time spent around other experiments. they’re all well aware that things are bad, all entirely aware that this place isn’t good for anyone. but everyone has their tells, little things that make each other well aware of the fact that a particular day was worse than others, that an experiment had turned bad. with jason it’s a different kind of silence, a silence that reeks of sadness or fear. his usual silence could usually still be seen as an open silence, never hostile. but this is different. even if the difference is near impossible to see, it can be felt. but today there were a few more clues; namely his time with the scientists had run far longer than it was meant to, but also the fact that he was soaking wet. something which, for a boy with fire powers, wasn’t exactly a good thing.

and yet at the question he wants to pretend nothing is wrong, pretend that it’s just another day. but that doesn’t work in here, everyone can see through that kind of lie. “bad.” voice is hushed, as usual. either he’s silent or barely speaking, never daring to be loud or even normal. always trying to hide away. that one little word says a lot, plenty of layers to it. he’d done bad, not good enough for them, and so they’d done something bad back, a punishment. the only one they knew worked well on him, one of the few things that left him trembling (both from fear and from coldness). “water.”

[cadreformed]

@canncnbcy

The wind plays a never ending nocturne outside, paper thin walls letting in even the slightest draft in to permeate the bones. There were some chills that not even the heavy quilts and crocheted afghans could keep at bay. Nights like tonight she’d turn in closer to her husband or whatever kid had managed to wedge in between them that evening. Some spooky ghoulish noise sending any number of tiny feet towards their parents room.

But tonight was different. There was an actual phantom in the home. He’d been dead for months. Saved only by his powers and then whisked away. Creeping down the stairwell she found him in the kitchen, glasses perched on his nose and a textbook in front of him. When did he start looking so much like his father? 

Two graves were dug in the backyard, her hands still had the cuts from her grief stricken task. While Paige looked after the kids until their uncle came she’d gone out to the family graves. Dug two holes with a shovel and her grief. Knowing that there would never be bodies to keep from the coyotes. Instead they were in a mass grave.

Now here he was; paler than a ghost but her boy was alive. “Burning the midnight oil, lionheart? I’ll make you something warm.” She places a kiss on his forehead. Lingering by his side for a moment longer to rub his shoulder. Whispering through relieved tears, hands shakily brushing his hair aside.  “I’ll get some coffee ready, baby, then how about you an’ I take a walk. Me, you an the crickets, like old times.”

[tayasmultimuses]

“ Does the giant rubber duck have a name?? i need to know for strictly professional reasons.” ~ Sunspctts (RobertO)

Answered here @sunspctts (sorry for the double tag just wanna make it's seen).

[tayasmultimuses]

“There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for” (honestly, for anyone Marvel)

Answered here

[tayasmultimuses]

Meme Response: Pinterest Prompts part 4: Dani Answering Sam

@canncnbcy asked "there is some good in this world and it's worth fighting for."

"Yes, Sam, I suppose there is some good in this world still that we should fight for. Tell me one thing you feel that way about." Dani said, smiling and giggling, her eyes darting back and forth between him and Rahne. Danielle was in a good mood this evening.

[myersbprd]

with @canncnbcy​!

The damage from the blasts was significant: chunks of brick crumbled rapidly before smashing onto the pavement below, and evidence of a small fire from within the building had initially been visible from the ground thanks to flames licking the edges of a windowsill. Although the latter form of detriment was now extinguished, the sound of yet another explosion reverberated through the streets as the BPRD agents prepared to enter.

With the goal of both removing any civilians from the scene and locating the perpetrator of the chaos, John entered the structure uncertain of what might arise, but steeling himself for anything. Whoever had originally called in the disturbance claimed a younger boy ( liable to be a teenager ) using some sort of power from his hands was the offender — a description which had been passed on the Bureau. Was it a staged attack, or an accident? Or perhaps something else entirely?

As he and his colleagues separated to search the premises, he kept his firearm held down by his side. It was noise from within a room on the second floor that grabbed his attention; upon shoving the door open with his shoulder, he realized that he was face-to-face with someone who matched the narrative previously presented to them. Regardless, John forced himself to refrain from drawing any immediate conclusions based on second-hand information. The area appeared free from the destruction of the higher floors, and the boy in front of him didn’t seem to be in the midst of beginning any.

His gun still clutched firmly in his hands and directed towards the floor, he stepped further past the threshold. “Are you all right?”