Guys Can We Pretty Please Bring Irondad Back Ive Recently Fallen Very Deep Into The Ao3 And Tumblr Archives
guys can we pretty please bring irondad back i’ve recently fallen very deep into the ao3 and tumblr archives and it’s so lonely here
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More Posts from Sober2stars
You cat stephen fic was perfect!💘
I was wondering If you could write a cat tony fic where stephen accidentaly casts a spell on him cuz he was being annoying😅
I did my best to write a cat!Tony story that lives up the cat!Stephen fic. I hope you like it 🐈 (As so often, this got way longer than planned; and that's also why you had to wait so long for this...) Beta by KJ :)
Summary: Stephen looked at the pile of clothes from which a very clearly not amused cat looked back. “Well, shit…”
Tags: cat!Tony, magical shenanigans, panic attack, normal cat behavior, fluff, fun, bordering on crack, don’t take this too seriously, just the regular everyday weirdness of magic man and engineer guy
Ko-fi | Masterlist | Cat!Stephen | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 5.4k

Cat for a day
Stephen looked at the pile of clothes from which a very clearly not amused cat looked back.
“Well, shit…”
His previous anger was forgotten, replaced by mild annoyance, as always when Tony touched something he wasn’t supposed to touch.
Well, he hadn’t touched the relic per se. Not with his hands anyway. But something in his aura – or Vishanti knew what – had triggered the relic and activated it mid-argument.
It hadn’t been anything important they had been arguing about, merely another technicality. Sometimes Stephen wondered why Tony bothered coming over into the Sanctum he loved to criticize the interior of; when they almost always ended up arguing about something.
It might have something to do with the fact that they were dating; which was a recent development. Tony could always change his mind… until then Stephen would happily welcome him into the Sanctum.
Anyway, that wasn’t the point here. The point was that Tony was now standing on four legs instead of two. And he was way more furry than he should be.
Stephen did this thing where he raised his brow totally unimpressed. “That’s what you get for touching stuff you shouldn’t,” he said in his best ‘I told you so’-voice.
The cat huffed and the noise he made sounded rather hoarse; as he had yet to figure how to use his new voice. The intent of his words was clear though. At least to the sorcerer.
“Well, you did something to that globe, because I didn’t use magic and I’m pretty sure you didn’t spontaneously develop a shapeshifting talent in the past five minutes.”
The cat climbed out of the pile of fabric. More noises came out of that tiny mouth. Stephen had no idea what he said but it sounded a lot like complaining. He waited until Tony was done and stared up at him, expectantly.
Only then did Stephen move his hands for a spell. “Stand still while I get you back. And don’t yell at me when you find out you are naked. None of this is my fault.”
He performed a simple counter spell; it was standard procedure really.
It did nothing.
Stephen tried two other spells – Tony remained a cat.
Something wasn’t right here and for the first time, the sorcerer felt uneasy. Turning Tony back shouldn’t be this complicated. He didn’t like to not know what was going on.
“I need to do some research,” he hesitantly admitted.
His words seemed to trigger something in the feline. Tony suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. His chest was too tight, and everything around him too big. His little body tensed and a weird noise escaped him, some kind of wheezing from deep within his lung.
“Tony.”
The cat didn’t seem to hear him. He was shaking and looked like he was five seconds away from running off. Stephen's hand gently grabbed the feline’s neck – right at the spot where a mother carried their kittens – and he applied soft pressure.
Tony had never been a kitten, but he stilled anyway.
“Deep breaths, Tony. In…and out… in…”
The cat slowly but visibly relaxed. He was still not making a move, but his eyes were more present; not as clouded as they had been moments before.
“You with me?” Stephen asked and got a small meow in return. He let go of Tony tentatively. The cat remained pressed to the floor for a second. Then he sat up, the shaking not yet completely gone, and looked around as if embarrassed by the panic attack.
There was no one around; they were all alone.
“Let’s go to the library.” The cat nodded, then yelped when he got scooped up into Stephen's arms. “I got you,” the sorcerer soothed him.
He was careful not to touch Tony’s chest since he was pretty confident that this weak spot had been transferred to the new body.
Tony was smart enough not to wriggle. Instead, he snuggled into his arms.
Tony was actually quite a cute cat; a brown and black tabby. Funnily enough, his facial hair had been translated into the fur pattern.
Stephen turned to walk away, but then remembered something: he shouldn't keep clothes lying around randomly in the relic room. With a flick of his hand, he teleported them ahead into the library.
He himself took the path on foot so as not to expose Tony to any more magic.
Besides, it wasn't far.
Once in the library, he set Tony down next to his clothes on a couch. "I need to get some books. Make yourself comfortable. It won't take long."
He disappeared between the shelves.
Tony looked after him. Another wave of panic rose briefly, but he quickly swallowed it down.
It was fine, he told himself. Stephen would fix this.
He decided to simply not think about the fact that magic had affected his body without Tony’s consent. His mind was still the same; it was only just his body that had changed.
He let out a frustrated noise, that sounded very much like a growl.
Oh yeah, and he couldn’t talk anymore. At least not with his normal voice. Stephen seemed to understand the sentiment well enough though.
That reminded Tony of something and he searched for his phone in the pocket of his pants.
It was difficult to pull out the device if you had no thumbs. Or any fingers at all. But after a few slippery attempts, he finally managed it.
And was immediately facing the next daunting task: using the touch screen.
It took him a while to figure out that his nose worked quite okay with the tech. Tony opened the app for writing notes – he had never used it before. Normally he talked to Jarvis. That was way faster and Jarvis knew how to filter his waterfall of words.
Now writing with his nose one letter at a time was frustratingly slow. Jarvis had been alerted when Tony unlocked the phone, but probably kept his quiet to wait for what happened because he couldn't identify Tony's voice nor his fingerprints.
Tony was halfway through his explanation when the A.I. finally spoke up. “Sir, am I right in assuming that you got turned into a cat but you are still able to understand English?”
The cat looked into the camera and nodded. “Meow.”
“I need you to confirm your identity,” Jarvis nevertheless demanded the safety measure that Tony had introduced to him.
The cat typed the combination of numbers and letters into his phone. They vanished as soon as he finished.
“Identity confirmed. Do you require medical attention, Sir?”
Tony denied it and told Jarvis to put his calendar on hold for the day until his situation got sorted out.
It was inconvenient to spell everything out, but this was his only way to communicate at the moment.
By then Stephen was back with his pile of books. He noticed the cat's head peeking over the back of the couch.
“You alright there, Tony?”
“Meow?”
He took that as a ‘yes’ and sat down to open the first book.
Tony curled up but soon enough he was bored. For one, he wasn’t in the mood to relax. Plus, he had never been one for idly sitting around; not as a human being, and not as a cat either.
He stretched; first his front, then his back legs. He then yawned widely.
His new body felt more agile. Lighter. His chest still hurt, as well as his left front leg. His shoulder had never fully healed.
Nevertheless, he had no trouble jumping off the couch silently. His tail flicked.
Everything seemed taller; the furniture, the ceiling. Tony had to crane his neck up; and decided immediately that he wasn’t a fan of this fact.
If Stephen noticed he left his place, he didn’t react and Tony took that as an invitation to leave the library in order to find food. Getting accidentally transformed had kicked up his appetite and he felt hungry. Purposeful small steps led him to the kitchen. Fortunately, he had no problem operating on four legs instead of the usual two.
On his way downstairs he heard a noise and his ears perked up. The Cloak of Levitation hovered at the top of the stairs. It had no face but its collar was tilted, watching the feline with curiosity.
“Mrew.”
The cloak flew down to him to prod the cat, who tried to evade it. Tony made a disgruntled sound and fended off the fabric with his paw.
He had already noticed from Stephen’s interactions that the Cloak of Levitation showed little understanding for personal space. And apparently, it wasn’t yet quite sure what to make of this cat. If it even recognized him as Tony or perhaps thought this was a new pet.
Tony continued on his way, with the cloak following him. Tony glanced over his shoulder at it but didn’t object.
In the kitchen, he faced a new challenge: doors. More specifically, cabinet doors.
Tony jumped onto the counter and tried to get into the upper cabinet that he knew stored toast. He had to stand on his hind legs, and reach up with his whole body to try and open the cabinet door.
It turned out to be rather difficult.
He barely kept his balance and pushed his paw into the narrow gap to swing the door open. It opened a little – and fell back close immediately.
The cat huffed in annoyance.
His gaze fell on the coffee maker. He needed one of those drinks. However, the mugs were also stored in one of the upper kitchen cupboards.So he was back to the same problem there.
Suddenly he understood why cats liked to push things off counters. He was very tempted to do the same with a nearby vase; out of sheer frustration.
That was when the cloak – which so far had simply watched him; or whatever it was that it did, hovering in the middle of the room – came over to him and opened the cabinet Tony had failed to pry open.
The cat meowed a thanks.
Now, jumping up into the upper cabinets was complicated by the fact that the compartments down low were fully packed. Tony stood on his hind legs and stretched up again to analyze his options; but before he could even try to start something, the cloak had taken out the bag of toast and set it down next to Tony.
That gave Tony an idea and sure enough, after some trial and error in communication, Tony had a decent sandwich and coffee in front of him shortly afterwards.
Tony took back any quip he ever threw at the cloak; that thing was a saint.
He ate his sandwich with relish. The texture felt weird in his tiny mouth. It wasn’t really made for this kind of food. But it tasted passable enough that he wasn't bothered by it.
The Cloak of Levitation stayed at his side, fascinatedly studying him. With a corner of its fabric it petted the cat’s head, and this time Tony let it happen; only his ears flicked, irritated more by the gesture than the actual action.
He heard voices approaching. It was a conversation between two sorcerers who entered the kitchen and Tony looked up. He did know apprentices came to the Sanctum for their studies or to do whatever it was magic people did around here – so he wasn’t alarmed when he didn’t recognize their faces.
They, on the other hand, stopped right in their tracks when they saw a feline on the counter right in the middle of what seemed to be the Sorcerer Supreme’s lunch snack: open packets of cheese and ham, a glass of pickles and toast and butter.
The butter knife didn’t quite make it to the sink but was lying on the edge of the sink, turned so that the blade reached dangerously far over the edge of the counter and threatened to fall off at any moment.
They were also pretty sure coffee wasn’t supposed to be served in a cereal bowl.
Hovering next to all the chaos was the Cloak of Levitation, who did nothing to prevent the cat from eating food that wasn’t for felines.
“Hey!” One of the sorcerers shouted sharply, and that triggered something in Tony’s cat brain.
He froze for a second. Then he took what was left of the sandwich in his mouth and bolted. He jumped on the floor and zipped right through the sorcerer’s feet. They tried to catch him but Tony was way faster, dodging their grip.
He ran down the hallway and through an ajar door. The room was unoccupied by people; Tony went under the couch anyway. Only then did he stop and catch his breath.
His little heart was beating fast in his chest. It was a strange feeling: it hadn't been fear that had made him leave the kitchen. However, it still felt like a fight-or-flight reaction. He didn’t want anyone to come between him and his food.
It was very atypical of him – but then again, it was a weird day. So Tony let it slide.
He peaked from under the couch and found that no one had followed him. Not even the cloak, which was – honestly – a bummer. It had been very useful.
Tony turned around to continue his meal when he noticed a pair of eyes in the darkness back under the couch.
They glowed yellowish with an eerie intensity, piercing through the darkness. Focused on Tony they seemed to follow his every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. And they were way too large for any creature to fit under here.
The shadows clung to it like a shroud, an inky blackness that seemed to devour the faint light falling under the couch.
This wasn’t natural.
The hairs on the back of Tony's neck stood up and his instinct yelled: danger! He held back a hiss, but was ready to bunk off at the slightest sign of an attack.
The eyes didn’t come closer. They did glance at the rest of the sandwich though.
Cautiously, Tony stepped to the sandwich, not taking his eyes off whatever it was that lurked in the shadows. He pulled the top part of the bread off and pushed it towards the creature; the yellow eyes watching the movement. Then it opened its mouth and for a moment Tony saw sharp teeth and a long tongue.
Then the bread was gone and Tony heard a satisfied noise. The yellow eyes close and don’t open again. They were gone.
The shadows were still present.
Tony took the leftover sandwich and moved out from under the couch back into the light. The feeling of imminent danger was gone but he wasn’t taking any chances.
_______________________
It was already dark outside when Stephen leaned back and rolled his neck and shoulders. The research had taken him longer than anticipated, mostly because he was diligent and thorough.
“Tony,” he called over to the couch.
He got no reaction.
Maybe he had fallen asleep. Yet, when Stephen thought about it, he had never seen Tony be quiet for so long. Normally he was always talking, mumbling to himself, and sharing his thoughts half-aloud.
The sorcerer stood up and stepped around the couch. He saw the reason why it was so peaceful: the couch was empty; there was no cat in sight.
Stephen looked around. “Tony?”
Still, no answer.
“I swear to the Vishanti, if he walked through the wrong door and fell into a black hole, I will call pest control to get him out.”
He left the library and reached out mentally to the Sanctum to figure out where Tony was. He felt several presences in the building – not surprising, as apprentices often studied here. But all of them were gathered in groups; he couldn’t make out a single figure alone.
Worry spread through Stephen and he set off to search for Tony.
“Tony?”
_______________________
“Meow mreew.” [“Anyway, it has a base plate of pre-famulated amulite surmounted by a malleable logarithmic casing in such a way that the two spurving bearings were in a direct line with the panametric fan.”]
Tony elegantly dodged the hand that wanted to pet him. He didn’t want to be touched by someone he barely knew for an hour.
“I’m pretty sure it’s from another dimension,” one of the apprentices said about the cat that they had found in the Sanctum. “Maybe it came with Master Reese. He recently went to Ektra’vall. This cat is way too smart to be a regular feline.”
Tony turned his head towards the young man, who stared at him.
“He just winked at me!”
Tony laughed, which came out as some weird purring noise.
He had found this group of young wizards and their books in one of the study rooms. They probably should be doing some homework or whatever task they had been assigned. But as soon as they spotted the unfamiliar cat they had coaxed it onto the table.
Tony liked the attention, thrived under it even. He had lectured them about turbo encabulators; not that they understood a word he meowed. Still, they were delighted by the chatty cat and talked to him. The result was two different conversations going on.
At one point, one of the apprentices conjured a packet of string cheese out of thin air and fed it to the cat. Tony was pretty sure that Wong would get an aneurysm if he saw the food right next to the ancient-looking books – but that wasn’t Tony’s problem.
He was just a cat. It was liberating. There was no pressure; nobody knew it was him. There weren’t any expectations.
Tony humored the wizard kid who used a pen as bait for him to play. He pounced at the end of the pen with his paw. Being a cat helped his mind to stop running a mile a minute.
His ears perked up when he heard the door open and he spotted a speck of blue. Oh, this was going to be fun.
“Shouldn’t you work on your evocation studies?”
The apprentices hadn’t noticed the Sorcerer Supreme approaching and his voice caught them by surprise. They winced and turned towards him to bow respectfully.
“We are working on it,” the boy that had fed Tony pointed at the scripts. It didn’t help their case that a) he still had the string cheese in his hands and b) the tabby cat was sitting on one of the books, washing its face by licking its paw and preening his face.
The feline seemed unperturbed, like a regular cat. But Tony couldn’t fool Stephen.
“Really?” Stephen raised his eyebrow. “Because it rather looks like you all got distracted by Tony.”
The apprentices exchanged glances, throwing their attention at that piece of information.
“The cat’s name is Tony?”
“Is that short for Plutonium?”
“Will he stay longer at the Sanctum?”
They were all talking excitedly to each other.
Stephen tilted his head. His eyes met Tony’s, who looked way too smug. He was clearly enjoying the situation. Well, at least one of them had fun.
“The cat will not stay. Go back to your studies. I expect them by tonight.”
“Master Doctor Strange, it is already night.”
Huh, Stephen hadn’t noticed.
“Then you better hurry up. Tony, come with me. I have a few spells for you.”
Tony yawned before jumping off the table to follow the sorcerer, while one of the apprentices gasped quietly. “Dude, Plutonium is totally the Sorcerer Supreme’s new familiar pet.”
Tony turned back to him and made a displeased sound. He was no pet of anyone.
Holding his head and tail high, he walked at Stephen’s side. The tall sorcerer made big steps and Tony had to hurry to keep up.
He didn’t like that.
From this new perspective, Stephen was freakishly tall.
“Good to see you’re still a menace bothering people.” There was a smile on Stephen’s lips.
“Mrew miaow.” [“It’s called being bored. It’s not like there’s anything better to do around here.”]
Back in the library, the pile of books on Stephen's desk seemed to have grown even more. Tony jumped onto it. An easy task; he had perfect control of his body by now.
From the higher ground, he looked expectantly at the sorcerer.
“I did some research on the relic. Although it is stored in the Sanctum Sanctorum, it is occasionally used for teaching purposes in Kamar-Taj to demonstrate the fusion of different types of magic from several dimensions. Therefore it’s not surprising that it showed unprompted activity … anyway, you should be back to normal in no time.”
Stephen called upon his magic and used it to draw glowing lines into the air. It was a delicate pattern that formed into a sphere. When it was finished, Stephen let it fly over the cat and with a snap of his fingers it burst into golden sparks that rained down onto the feline.
Tony looked at it in awe. It was beautiful. He lifted his paw to catch a sparkle. It felt cool and melted into his fur, like a snowflake.
He still was a cat afterwards. Judging by Stephen's face, this was not the desired result. He looked distraught and tired. But it was gone in a second; then the determination was back.
“Maybe if I adjust the parameter.” The sorcerer reopened a book. “When you consider the magical volume... and that the relic may have stored traces of extradimensional magic…" Stephen mumbled further explanations to himself.
Tony didn’t even understand half of it. He watched and waited.
Stephen tried a new spell. And then another.
Sighing, he dropped into the chair and ran his hand through his hair, avoiding looking at the cat.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t used to failure. “I will fix this. I promise.”
The ball of fur jumped onto his lap, letting out a high-pitched “Chirrup” to get his attention. Warm feline eyes met Stephen’s.
The sorcerer raised his hand to Tony and the cat headbutted it, prompting him to scratch the cat behind his ears. Contented, Tony leaned into the touch. He was purring soothingly as if he wanted to reassure Stephen everything was fine.
The sorcerer would have smiled at that sight if he wasn't so worried and disappointed in himself. He couldn’t let Tony down.
“I will go over everything one more time. Maybe I missed something.” That would be a first. Stephen was very accurate regarding research. He turned back to the books. Tony stayed on his lap, curled up.
_______________________
Stephen browsed every single script on the table but couldn’t find any mistakes. One of the spells should have worked.
He concluded that he needed more books. The answer was somewhere in the library. It always was.
Stephen stifled a yawn. Hours spent pouring over dense volumes had taken their toll, leaving his mind heavy and his eyes strained. His concentration had waned, and the words on the page blurred before his weary gaze.
But he had to pull through, for Tony’s sake.
Tony wasn’t a fan of magic. Understandably so. He had told Stephen about his encounter with the witch. Or at least parts of it.
Stephen was pretty sure he had downplayed it. From what he had heard, Stephen was still furious about the violation. What the witch had done to Tony was basically torture.
Tony only tolerated some magic because he liked Stephen. They took their relationship slow, step by step.
But now Stephen had screwed up and he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony hated him after this. Or at least wanted to take a break from the sorcerer and magic in general.
Stephen's eyes were unfocused in the distance, his thoughts drifting off. He didn’t realize it until something gently touched his beard.
When he looked down, he noticed Tony was watching him.
“Sorry,” Stephen muttered. “Go back to sleep.” He rolled his shoulders. The tension from the responsibility had settled in a knot between his shoulder blades that ached intensely. But it was no use; he had to pull himself together.
Tony tilted his head and then – as he came to a decision – he shook it. “Meow.”
“Not yet. But I’ll find the right spell.”
Apparently, that was not what Tony meant. He jumped off his lap and pawed at Stephen’s pants, motioning him to follow, meowing loudly.
"What is it?" Alarmed by the cat's sudden stubbornness, he followed him to the couch, where the engineer's clothes were still lying.
The cat hopped onto the cushions and patted them with his paw.
Stephen frowned, not sure if he understood correctly. “You want me to sit on it?”
“Mrew.”
“Why?”
Tony just stared at him and waited.
Stephen was too tired to argue and with a sigh he gave in. Tony was back in his lap as soon as the sorcerer sat down. He circled once to find a good spot before he moved into a perfect loaf, purring again.
Stephen petted the soft fur. “Now what?” he asked.
Tony blinked up at him with one eye.
“You want me to take a break?”
“Brrep.”
Stephen sighed again – this time because his body relaxed a bit. “Fine. Five minutes.”
It didn’t take a whole five minutes until the sorcerer's breathing became deep and even. His fingers moved slower and slower in Tony's fur until they finally stopped altogether; Stephen had fallen asleep.
Happy with that result, Tony closed his eyes as well.
_______________________
There was a noise on the other side of the couch that alerted Tony. He hadn’t heard anyone come in and decided to investigate.
He climbed onto the armrest and stared at the table Stephen had occupied. What he saw should have surprised him, but somehow it didn’t.
A ghost version of Stephen hovered in the air – cross-legged - browsing the books. The books seemed to be regular books and not ghost books; at least they weren’t transparent.
Ghost-Stephen turned a page and that had to be the noise that Tony had heard.
Tony knew about astral projecting; he had seen it before when Stephen's body looked like he had fallen asleep meditating. But he had never caught a glimpse of the sorcerer’s astral ghost version.
“Mreewp.” [“You know that’s called cheating.”]
Ghost-Stephen looked up, surprised, when he saw that Tony was addressing him. “You can see me?”
“Mroow.” [“I’m looking at you, ain’t I?”]
“Huh.” Stephen put his book down and floated over to the feline. “That’s interesting. We assumed cats to be able to perceive several planes, but we never had proof.”
“Groow mrem.” [“That’s great for you. Can we go back and focus on the problem at hand: getting me back?”]
“Yes, pardon.”
“Thank you, I-…” Tony stopped mid-sentence, staring at Stephen in that weird non-blinking way. “You understand what I’m saying?”
Stephen paused as well, realizing that – yes, he did. “It appears so. It must be because I’m currently in the astral dimension.”
“You mean ghost town?” Unimpressed, Tony jumped onto the floor and then walked over to the table with the books. There he first got on the chair and then onto the table. Truth be told, he was relieved to finally have a normal conversation. One where both sides knew what the other said.
“You’re still cheating on the taking a break part,” he remarked.
“Are you complaining I’m trying to find a solution to your problem?” Stephen floats around the table. He reached out to pet Tony and the cat leaned in the surprisingly solid touch.
“I didn’t say that,” he murmured. “Just pointing out a fact.”
“Mhm.” The sorcerer didn’t sound convinced. He continued to give back scratches all the way to that sweet spot right before the tail.
The cat got low but stretched his butt upwards. Purring louder than ever, he then flopped onto the side and was about to stick his belly out at Stephen when he realized what he was doing. Scowling, he pulled himself back up, ignoring Stephen's smug smile.
“That’s definitely some kind of cheating.”
“We had a lot of cats on the farm I grew up on.”
Stephen rarely talked about his childhood. Tony mostly knew the basics. Therefore he absorbed these kinds of snippets of information, adding them together like a big puzzle. There were still many gaps.
“More volunteers for your Hogwarts transmutation class?” He tried to dig deeper.
Stephen was quick to correct him. “You did not transmute. You shapeshifted.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Everything but the result. It’s a completely different course of action. You see, with shapeshifting a person shifts into a different living being. In most cases into a different species; although not always. While during a transmutation it changes the substance – regardless if it’s a living being or a objec-…” Stephen paused. His face told Tony an idea had struck him.
And he was right.
“Metamorphosis… I haven’t thought about metamorphosis. Normally, it wouldn’t be relevant, but since the source of magic lies in a relic, it’s actually quite possible.” He floated over to the shelves, looking for a specific book.
Tony stayed on the table, watching him. “Do you know how to reverse it?”
“Oh yes, it’s rather easy – if you know what you’re looking for. Ah, there it is…” Stephen thumbed through the book until he found what he was looking for. "Metamorphosis explains how you were able to have such good control over your new form straight away. Without any familiarization phase. And why there are some striking matching features between your forms.” Especially the facial hair and eye color.
Stephen returned to the desk.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I was ready five hours ago.”
Stephen’s face fell, sobered up, and the guilt was back. He mumbled another apology.
Tony felt awful for mentioning it; being a cat hadn’t been that bad. Even if it hadn't been voluntary.
Ghost-Stephen disappeared into thin air and a second later human-Stephen stood up. Some magic was safer to perform when he was on this plane.
He stepped to the cat, who was waiting for yet another attempt. Only this time, he actually felt something.
The magic wrapping around him was bright and he had to close his eyes for a second. It felt like he was stretching after sitting in the same pose for a long time. His joints were cracking like he had slept uncomfortably.
It didn’t hurt, rather it felt right.
Then it was gone and Tony opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the table, but now as a human again. The air suddenly felt more chilly.
Oh yeah, his clothes were still on the couch.
And Tony was naked as on the day he was born.
He noticed the dark blush spreading on Stephen’s face. They hadn’t reached that stage of their relationship yet, but Tony didn’t mind showing off. Plus, it was nice to know that his body still got that kind of reaction.
Stephen realized he was staring and cleared his throat, averting his eyes. “You should…” He trailed off, vaguely gesturing towards the pile of clothes.
Tony slid off the table. “Don’t play coy. This is what you get.”
His words made Stephen blush even more. Tony hadn’t taken his partner to be this shy. Somehow it was endearing.
He grabbed his pants. “Well, it’s good to be back.” He pulled his pants over his butt, when suddenly there was something in the way. Confused, he turned his head – and found a cat tail attached to him. Human-sized, very fluffy and in black and brown.
It twitched, nervously.
“Stephen…” He looked at the sorcerer, demanding answers.
“There might have been a slight mishap.” Stephen’s voice was hoarse and not in the slightest apologetic. He was back to watching Tony. Watching the top of his head in particular, Tony noticed.
With one hand still holding his pants in place, Tony reached up. He flinched when he touched fluffy ears. Feline ears.
Stephen licked his lips. He wasn’t blushing because he was shy. It was because he was very much turned on by the unexpected turn of events. But he didn’t dare to say anything since he wasn’t sure how Tony would react to yet another magic-caused alteration.
Only when he heard a chuckle escaping Tony’s lips, did the tension leave him.
Tony found the situation absurd. He had had a long day and honestly, he was just glad to have his thumbs back. “I hope you have some alternative clothes for me. Otherwise, I have to go naked from the waist down and possibly traumatize Wong for life.”
___________
Tony's secret code to identify himself to Jarvis: -y0u kn0w wh0 1 am-
🛑‼️ Stop ‼️
Hello, I am Doaa and I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart on behalf of my family, the Jad Al Haq family of twenty-three members, including 11 children, who are trapped in the devastating situation in Gaza. They are urgently seeking evacuation to Egypt after enduring more than 270 days of displacement and hardship. I seek to help them urgently and provide them with the minimum requirements. ▩ I am now in Egypt with my child who was diagnosed with autism. I left Gaza about three and a half months ago. I was displaced and was able to escape the scourge of war after my displacement to Rafah, and today I find myself in a situation that I never expected. The conflict in Gaza has left my family in desperate need of help. This war has taken their livelihoods, their factories and their livelihoods as they struggle to survive. See as we were a happy family
I never imagined that my loved ones would be caught in the crossfire of a conflict they were not part of. My father, the owner of a clothing sewing factory, had only one dream – to educate and take care of his family. My brothers have children. The idea that their innocence has been marred by the horrors of war is too heavy a burden to bear.
My father, who is 65 years old, suffers from multiple diseases and diabetes, and suffered a stroke after his factory and family home were destroyed, faces the harsh reality of conflict. The trauma inflicted on the eleven children and my nieces tears at my heart, and I am haunted by fear for their safety and well-being. ↪ To give you a glimpse into their daily struggle, they wake up to a relentless battle for survival after surviving deadly nights. For more than 200 days, they have been cooking on firewood due to the scarcity of cooking gas. The entire region lacks fuel for cars, making transportation almost impossible. Basic necessities, including medicines, are scarce, even for those with the means to purchase them. Humanitarian aid has barely reached areas in Khan Yunis that have not yet reached my family.
But I find myself in a very embarrassing situation. I have to go back and ask for help and rescue. You are my only hope. My joy is not complete, as my family lives behind me in the Gaza Strip. I promised myself that I would do my best to convey their suffering and save them, even if it cost me death. My beloved family is the most precious thing in my existence, and I am very sad that they are still in the northern Gaza Strip, where they see all kinds of death
I'm ashamed to ask you to help me save my life. It was my wise way to save my child and get out of Gaza If someone donates 50 kroner it will make a difference for us and help us because we need more. I don't want to lose my family, you are my only hope I love you because you were the source of my trust. I love you because you are truly wonderful. You are our hope always and forever. You also helped me save my family, the most precious thing in existence. I feel so embarrassed but I have rubbed salt in my wound and I have no one to save it but you My family is calling you and asking for your help my family is big . I have six sisters and four sisters-in-law, and the number of children in my family is 11, and they are in dire need of rescue and safety.
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When Peter was seven, Mrs Kanowski wrote in his report card that he always has something to say. Uncle Ben had found it quite funny. Aunt May had elbowed him in the side and murmured something about it not being a compliment, a word Peter didn’t quite grasp until a year later, when Gwen Stacy socked him in the shoulder then said, “I like your socks.” (They were covered in crossed swords and skulls wearing pirate hats, much to Aunt May’s dismay. Harry thought they were cool, though, and so did Peter, kind of, and now so did Gwen. So there.) “Thanks,” Peter had said, and that had been that. Not his first friend, but one of them.
He doesn’t know why he thinks about that now.
They’re on the roof of the Baxter Building. The sun is setting, spilling red and pink and orange all over Johnny, over his golden hair, the planes of his face, the brightness of his grin. The grin in question: the remnants of laughter, left over from Peter telling him about the time Harry keyed his dad’s car in a fit of six-year-old pique and Peter had tried to take the blame, only for Norman to dismiss the attempt with a brisk you’d have chosen more sensible places to do it, which had made Johnny absolutely howl with laughter.
“Really, Pete,” he says, still grinning, “what kind of six year old gets told they’d commit vandalism sensibly?” He snorts, shaking his head, looking out over the city.
Mrs Kanowski was wrong, it seems. Peter is tongue-tied, watching Johnny’s eyes crinkle in the corners, the slope of his nose as he looks out over towards the Chrysler Building. It swells in him, the way Johnny looks right now, the way he feels, loose-limbed and relaxed and happy. Peter likes Johnny a lot of ways, but this is maybe his favourite, when it’s just the two of them, and Johnny has that smile that looks like it put the stars in the sky, instead of the one he flashes at people in corridors, at the press when they get in too close, at ex-girlfriends and maybe-boyfriends – everyone who wants a piece of him.
It’s a nice smile, don’t get him wrong. Peter is mostly immune to Johnny’s charms, but that one still makes his chest feel a little warmer. It’s just got nothing on Johnny when he’s like this, bright and open and beautiful.
“I wonder what you’d have been like if you’d known me back then,” Johnny says, still not looking at Peter. His voice has gone thoughtful, smile fading until all that’s left is a soft tilt to his lips. “What I’d have been like.” He’s quiet for a second, and then: “I’m a little jealous, you know.”
Peter can’t work the words out of his mouth. His tongue feels too thick. Still, there must be something questioning enough in his gaze when Johnny glances back at him that it gets conveyed, because Johnny blinks, then smiles ruefully.
“That they knew you back then – Harry and Gwen and even Mary Jane, though I know she was a little later. They all got to know you so early… It kinda feels like I was missing out.” The way he says kinda is like an inside joke, the type where you’re the only one in on it, where you’re laughing at yourself. Peter’s heart aches.
Johnny’s smile goes crooked as he looks back at Peter again. “You’re my first real friend, Peter. You know that, right?”
And, like, maybe. Maybe Peter knew that, logically, if he ever really thought about it, but he didn’t – he doesn’t – because Johnny is bright and handsome and funny, charming and charismatic and wildly popular even though he has enough personality defects to fill a dictionary. Everyone likes Johnny, even some of his exes, and the ones who don’t usually have a grudge to pick with his brother-in-law, or they think Johnny is just like any vapid, handsome, rich, famous type. And it’s not that he’s not, but he’s also so much more than that. Sometimes Johnny is so much that Peter doesn’t have words to contain it.
But that’s a lonely thing too.
So maybe Peter knew, on some level, that this is what he is to Johnny, this is the space he occupies. But he’s never really thought it consciously, never really framed it that way, and certainly never heard it out loud before.
He swallows. Hard.
Johnny just blinks again, then grins. It’s not that crooked one, small and quiet and delicate enough to make Peter wish he could fit it in his pocket. It’s a sudden blitz against the sky, against Peter’s fucking mental stability, because it is so gorgeous that it is utterly devastating. Peter is devastated and Johnny is beautiful. Status quo.
Mrs Kanowski was definitely wrong, Peter thinks, as he slides a little closer to Johnny, nestles up against him so that their thighs are pressed close and their shoulders are knocking together. Because when Johnny looks at him like that, he can’t think of a single thing to say.
Favorite meeting place

I just wanted to draw the Statue of Liberty =]
I came across the AU idea that Dick Grayson is Richard Parker, and thus, Peter Parker's biological father. There are a few fics where Peter dimension travels to the DC universe and gets to meet his dead father. It is a fun idea, but I have different one.
AU where Peter dimension travels to the DC universe, and the batfam realizes that he is Dick's son, but rather than think he is from another universe, they all come to the conclusion that he is from the future.
It makes sense, after all, the rules of time travel basically boil down to 'don't change anything.' So when Peter is avoiding them and "pretending" not to know them, they just think he is following the rules. (He isn't even really avoiding them, he just has no idea who they are.)
You know how once you have an idea in your head, it take a lot of convince you that your wrong? Same idea here, they are so convinced of their idea that all new info ends up making them surer. Confirmation bias.
So Peter is trying to find a way home while the batfam tries to subtly help him without getting involved in time travel. Hijinks ensue.
Peter once mentions his love of photography and how he used to take pictures of heroes for a newspaper. Everyone looks at Tim and thinks, 'Gee I wonder where he picked up that hobby.'
At one point Peter pulls an assassin move, and Damian is like, 'I taught him that for sure.' (In reality Peter just trained with Natasha and Bucky before.)
When dealing with some issue Peter says something like, "I know a guy with some green angry problems and he taught me a lot about staying calm when mad." Everyone looks at Jason??? (He just picked up some meditation advice from Bruce Banner)
At some point he goes to the manor and everyone is like, 'Hah! More proof! He knows his way around the building!' He doesn't know his way around, his spider sense just lead him to where people are and kept him from getting lost.
He mentions Black Cat once, and everyone comes to the "totally logical" conclusion that Catwoman had a daughter, and that Peter and Felicia also have a weird almost dating thing going on.
Peter has been forced to go to some fancy events with Tony before so he knows how to act at rich people galas, which of course just adds fuel to the time travel theory.
Peter keeps accidentally referencing things that don't exist/didn't happen. Everyone just assumes these things didn't happen/don't exist yet.