If U Verbally Give Me A Set Of Instructions That Has More Than TWO Steps I Promise U I Will Not Retain

if u verbally give me a set of instructions that has more than TWO steps i promise u i will not retain them. the very moment u give me a third instruction my brain is immediately cleared like a fuckin etch a sketch dude pls im begging u write it down for me bc i will NOT remember a word u said if u tell me more than two steps im begging u

There are true gentlemen left in the work after all 🥲

It was a normal night at the tower Starbucks. Or, as normal as you can get in the lobby of stark tower at 3 in the morning on a Sunday.

Which is to say, very, very boring.

Was a normal night. Was. Because at 3:32 on the dot, Tony Stark walks in, carrying one of those thermoses that you’d take hiking and fill with hot chocolate to share with your family of 4 and your kid’s friends, who you have brought along.

It is a very large thermos. It has a “death before decaf” sticker on the side.

The barista is suddenly very, very, afraid.

Stark stops at the counter, places the thermos on the counter. His hair is sticking up in different directions like he’s recently electrocuted himself and the shadows under his eyes are darker than the barista’s eyeshadow.

“Just fill this up with espresso.” He tells her, straight-faced, as if this is a normal request. “I don’t care how much or how long it takes, just fill the whole damn thing up.”

The barista tries not to look at him or the thermos as she keys in a quad shot, and then every single extra shot. She reasons that 20 will be enough.

“Do you want room for cream?” She asks, even though, in her heart, she knows the answer.

He shakes his head and puts one of those slightly stale biscotti things on the counter as well. She wonders if it’s out of pity, or desire to appear to be an actual human.

She had thought he was the only one on that team, unmodified and untrained.

She doesn’t think that any more.

She finishes punching in the order and he pays, adding about a 200% tip. She’d second guess him, but he stares her down as he does it, so that might not be wise.

A tip that could pay her rent for a month has never felt more threatening.

He picks a table by the window and just sits there, tapping on his phone and crunching on his biscotti, and her coworker walks out of the back room and stares.

“Is that-“ he says, staring at him like he wants to go over and ask for an autograph. Surprisingly, none of the avengers aren’t spotted much at the tower Starbucks. She figures they have their own coffee there. She wonders how in the world they ran it.

“Yes.” She says shortly, is still mostly refusing to look at the man in the corner like she’ll see somthing otherworldly and unforgettable if she does.

She starts pulling shots, one after the other, and her coworker gives her an odd look. “What-“ He starts, and never gets a chance to finish.

She grabs his head, and points his face at the thermos. “He wants that full.” She tells him, and pushes him towards the other espresso maker as she dumps the first 5 shots in.

She sees him do a double-take out of the corner of her eye. She’s still kind of hoping that this is a uncomfortably realistic dream and that she’ll wake up from where she fell asleep on the counter, get yelled at by her supervisor, and go back to life.

10 shots, and the thermos is still less than half full. 15, and it’s a half. 30 shots and nearly 30 minuites later, it’s full.

She calls Stark over to the counter, hefting the thermos on top of it. There’s a strap on it, presumably for carrying it like a backpack, which he does not use. He’s saying thank you and ripping open a single pack of sugar when her coworker slides in beside her, panting heavily, slides a postcard and a pen across the counter.

Stark signs it with a bright, if tired smile. He coworker is visibly star-struck. She just wants this night to end so she can pretend this never happens.

Both of them watch in horror as he downs about a third of the thermos as he’s walking out.

Her coworker picks up the phone. She thinks he’s going to dial 911, which is most likely a smart thing to do. Everyone knows that Stark has had… issues with the heart department, even if every official source hasn’t said anything, and that much caffeine can not be good.

His phone doesn’t dial. She takes his phone and puts it face-down on the counter before going back to her work.

Apparently, someone does not want this mentioned. She will be happy to comply.

MJ wouldn’t need to yell though. She’d just silently stare at Peter for a minute and he’d shrink and apologize

Peter B Parker, sprinting around the apartment yelling: “MJ, where’s my spidey-suit?”

MJ, yelling back from another room: “What?”

Peter B Parker, while seeing the city being attacked from outside the window: “Where - Is - My - Spidey - Suit?”

MJ: “I Uhhh .... put it away”

Peter B Parker: “Where!?”

MJ: “Why do you need to know?”

Peter B Parker: “ I need it!”

MJ: “Don’t you think about running off Peter! We’ve been planning this dinner for months!”

Peter B Parker: “MJ the city is in danger!”

MJ: “My evening is in danger!”

Peter B Parker: “You tell me where my suit is MJ! We are talking about the greater good!”

MJ: “Greater good!? I am your WIFE! I am the the greatest GOOD you are ever gonna get!”

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What are you going to do Karen? There’s no managers out here.

I’m dead😂

Okay so you're probably going to hate this, but I think about it constantly. Peter with spider habits. If there's a fly or mosquito, he will snatch it out of mid air and squash it with no thoughts at all. It's basically a reflex. He's now allergic to peppermint and garlic which sucks because garlic bread is the best and he cried for like three hours after finding out. He hangs out in corners all the time. Corner of the ceiling, corner of the floor? Doesn't matter, Peter is there just chilling.

“...Oh and also bug spray, but I didn't have enough characters for that in my last ask, he can't wear bug spray.”

NOOO NOT THE GARLIC D:

•  I think spider habits are absolutely inherited after the bite. Maybe not allergies, though, since his abilities and recovery speed are INSANE. Like, maybe he’s allergic to mint or smth, but he INSTANTLY recovers. Those allergies are like... spicy food to him. It burns for a minute or two, but then he gets over it and keeps eating. 

Peter: *stuffing his face with garlic bread*

Tony: Aren’t you, like... allergic?

Peter, mouth full: Yeah! I can’t feel my face!! Now pass me that mint ice cream!!

Tony: 

*nervously passes him the ice cream*

•  And sitting in corners??? Bet he already did that. Not on the ceiling, obviously, but corners are nice places to sit, even if you’re not a spider. 

•  The grabbing bugs mid-air idea is so funny. Like, imagine thoughtlessly snatching a fly out of the air, then you just cringe because GROSS NOW YOU HAVE BUG GUTS ON YOUR HAND?!?!?! No thanks. Honestly, he would probably use a web-shooter to snatch them. Then, yEET. He throws it out the nearest window. 

•  Bug spray is tough. He can get along fine while banned from wearing it, since he reflexively kills/catches bugs anyway, but he also can’t be near people who DO wear it. It SUCKS. Like, when he goes camping with the Stark family or something, he just... dies. 

Tony: Morgan, c’mere! I need to spray you with bug spray!! 

Peter, screaming from across the campsite: 

•  Between bizarre allergies and a keenness for catching bugs, I have NO idea how his classmates wouldn’t notice this kinda shit. Guess they just think he’s THAT kid, so they’re like