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#ao3 fic
darkfinch · 19 days ago
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someone tagged one of my quinn & eliot posts like “quinn/eliot was such a good ship” in the PAST TENSE listen. im. just bc my boy was in 1.2 episodes of this tv show and has not been mentioned even in passing since 2012—
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alidafirtup · 13 days ago
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ao3 writers be like "no beta we die like men" like what, the dumbest way possible? like getting electrocuted by sticking a fork into a toaster?? hit fuck it then join the army? like this???
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whiskeyfluent · 2 years ago
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“Are you reading fanfiction again?”
Me: No
My browser tabs: Almost 50 of them actually
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pocketsunshineharry · 2 years ago
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◈ Wish You Would ◈ by @pocketsunshineharry (Ishiplouis) written for the Larry Soulmate Fic Exchange  
Louis’ curiosity and enthusiasm for plants came when his first tattoo appeared on his right arm. Louis remembered it like it was yesterday. He was fifteen at the time, and a flax flower appeared in the middle of his upper arm overnight. At the time Louis just yelled in excitement that a flower appeared on his arm, waking up his mum who came rushing in his bedroom.
“Boo, what’s wrong, love?”
“Mum! Look! I got a flower! It’s my soulmate, they must be, I don’t know, they must be-” Louis trailed off before being interrupted by his mother.
“They must be very kind.” His mother was examining his tattoo and smiled. “This is a flax flower, love, this flower represents kindness.”
Or a Soulmates AU where your soulmate’s personality is tattooed on your left arm. Plants are involved, miscommunication too. And maybe a bit of love.
・:*:・ Please if you give a read, leave a nice comment and/or a kudo,Thank you! lt will make my day!!! ・:*:・
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karmyma · 3 years ago
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Eijirou kept his larger body hovered over Katsuki, protecting him like a shield from the dangers beyond; such as the windy snow, fire smoke, and rampaging hunters.
i love this fic so much !!! it’s basically kirishima and bakugou surviving the apocalypse together-  not for the squeamish or weak-hearted. recommended for those who like a thicc plot to sink their teeth into. i cried too many times hh
(pic without snow under the cut bc i think it looks cleaner)
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pocketsunshineharry · a year ago
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⭐️ If We Have Each Other ⭐️ by @pocketsunshineharry (23k) Wedding Planner Louis / Baker Harry / Single Parent Harry / Miscommunication 
Summary: 
“When are you going to accept my offer to go out again? It’s been seven years and you’re still saying no to a fun night?” Niall complains. 
“A night in with Mads is a fun night for me Ni, I already told you that.” Harry responds while serving a customer. 
“You’re infuriating, I just want my best friend to go out with me tonight, is it too much to ask?” Niall pouts but all Harry does is chuckle and prepare the coffee machine for the double espresso the customer ordered.
“Playing the victim, are we now?” Harry is so used to Niall’s techniques. “Well, I have good news for you, Maddie is having a sleepover at one of her friends so tonight so I’m all yours.”
OR AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever. 
✎✐✎✐✎ Don’t hesitate to reblog this post to spread the word! Ty!✐✎✐✎✐
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Expect the Unexpected
Late-Happy Asexual Awareness Week! I know the community says that we aren't real or just faking it or flat out not LGBT+ in general, but that's not true. We're valid- from the cishet asexuals to the gay/bi/poly/pan/aro/etc and transgender asexuals, we all matter and are all welcomed in LGBT+ spaces. We're not broken, sex positive or repulsed. We're human, and don't need to have sex to have healthy and loving relationships (romantic or platonic). I love the head-canon of asexual Peter, mostly because I can relate on a deep level. I've had many an experience with aphobia and ignorance about my asexuality, so I may or may not incorporate some of my own fears and insecurities here. Different people have different experiences- this is just my take. (I might have also incorporated some of my experiences with being a broke dude too, but that's just self-indulgence of relating to my favorite character).
It was one of their lab days- right after the bell rang, Peter ran out of the school and looked for the car Happy usually picked him up instead of going to change in the alley for patrolling. However, instead of the shiny black car, Peter found a sleek red Lamborghini waiting for him in the front of the student pick up. Usually, when it was Mr Stark picking him up, it meant that something big was happening, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Peter could see Flash in the corner of his eyes with a pissed off look that usually donned his face whenever he was getting picked up for his “Stark Internship”, and he couldn’t help the grin that was tugging on his lips. He could hear him whispering about how Mr Stark was just pitying him and didn’t actually care about him, but Peter did his best to convince himself that that wasn’t true. This was supposed to be a good week, and stupid comments from Flash weren’t going to screw that up for him. Not this time.
“Hey, Mr Stark,” Peter tossed his backpack into the bask before climbing into the passenger seat. With Happy, he sat in the back, but then again, so did Mr Stark when Happy drove. “I thought Happy was going to pick me up. Is everything okay?”
“What, does something have to be wrong for me to be here? Am I not allowed to pick you up every once in a while?” The man asked, waiting for Peter to buckle his seat belt before driving.
“Yes- I mean, no. That’s not what I-” Peter stuttered, mentally slapping himself.
“Hey, relax there, Underoos. I’m just busting your chops,” Tony smirked, taking one hand off the wheel to pat the kid’s shoulder. “Happy had the day off today, so I’m here. You want to grab any food for the ride?”
“Uh yeah, that sounds good. I have some money on me. “
“Pete, you don’t have to pay. We talked about this, remember? I got it. And no, you’re not paying me back. You’re a kid, you save your money. I really don’t need it.”
“Right, sorry, Mr Stark.”
“Oh god, let’s not get started on the sorry or mister talks now.”
They took a drive to Panera Bread, seeing how Peter was craving mac ‘n’ cheese, and got their little road snacks. “If you could, try not to get cheese on the seats, kid,” Tony said before handing Peter his bag.
“I’ll be careful, Mr Stark. I don’t think I’ve ever really messed up one of your cars before, so,”
Instead of taking the highway towards the tower or compound, Tony had begun to drive in the direction of the Parkers’ apartment. “Um, Mr Stark? I think you took the wrong turn,” Peter spoke after a mouthful of food.
“No no, I meant to go this way. I know you don’t have school tomorrow because of that whole teacher workshop thing, so I thought you might want to come up to the compound for your day off? I already asked May, just so you know. She said it was fine as long as you got your homework done while there.”
“Really? Oh man, that’s great! Thanks, I’m surprised Aunt May said ‘yes’.”
“Didn’t take a lot of persuasion, actually. Maybe she’s finally starting to warm up to me?”
“Yeah, maybe she is.”
When they pulled up in front of the complex, Tony let Peter out of the car and then waited in it across the street. The teen ran up the stairs before realizing that his keys were in his backpack that was still in Mr Stark’s car. So, he did what any reasonable teen would do- use his spider powers to quickly scurry out one of the hall’s windows and crawl in through one of the unlocked windows in their apartment. Yeah, perfect plan. Sure, it was risky to do during daylight, but his sixth sense, or “spidey-sense” as he liked to call it, wasn’t going crazy, so there must not have been any onlookers. Peter grabbed the small red duffle bag he usually brought with him up to the compound over night and packed a set of pajamas and clothes for the next day along with his toothbrush, phone charger, and extra web fluids. The suit was already in his backpack down in the car, so that was pre-checked off the list. With that, Peter left a little sticky note on the fridge for his aunt that said, “Thanks for letting me go up to the compound, May! -Peter ♡ ” and then proceeded to leave the same way he entered-via window- since he wouldn’t be able to relock the door without his keys.
Peter dropped his bag in the back alongside his backpack and then plopped back into the front seat. “Alright, how am I just noticing that horrible pun on your shirt?” Tony asked him with a raised eyebrow. He was wearing a purple shirt that read ”What did one cell say to his sister cell when she stepped on his foot? Mitosis”
“What? It’s a good pun!” Peter laughed.
“We need to update your sense of humor this time, kid.”
“You can’t update what’s already perfect.”
“And we’ll get it there. You have everything you need?”
“Mhm, all good to go.”
“Got your suit?”
“Yep, brought it to school with me.”
“What about your keys?”
“In my backpack. I told you, I’m all ready.”
“Hold on,” Tony turned to face him now. “If your keys are in your bag, how’d you get inside your apartment? I know May doesn’t leave it unlocked.”
“I, erm… might’ve crawled through the window.”
“Next time, just come back down grab your keys, Pete.”
For the next twenty minutes, they discussed different projects that they’d been working on mixed with a few typical parent questions such as “How was your day?” and “Did that asshat bother you again?”. Once they were out of the city and heading upstate, Peter grew quieter and watched as the green trees and landscapes rolled on by and Tony turned up the volume on the radio's classic rock station a little bit. Sure, he's seen it a few times now, but it was still really beautiful. It was a nice change from the view a city had to offer. Peter rested his head on his hand, eventually switching over to the other one after his wrist began to go numb from the weight.
“Well, that's new. You getting engaged or something?” Tony broke the silence, motioning towards the slim black ring on Peter's middle finger.
“First of all, engagement rings go in the ring finger, not this one, Mr Stark.”
“And second of all?”
“I just, uh, saw it in a store and liked it, so..”
“Kid, you're a terrible liar.”
“What? I -I just really like the ring!”
“Alright, I'll let you and your celibacy ring be. “
“Please don’t call it that again. That's just, no. No. “
When they finally arrived at the compound around five, Peter grabbed his backpack from the backseat and Tony grabbed his duffle bag. “So, what'd you want to work on first? I'm thinking we start one project, take a dinner break, finish it up, and then end the night with a movie. “
“Maybe the web formula? I brought my notes like you asked and have a few ideas.”
“That doesn't surprise me at all,” They stepped into the elevator and FRIDAY took them up to the third floor with the labs. As per usual during elevator rides, Peter backed up a bit into the corner and Tony kept a hand on his shoulder- being stuck under a collapsed building did bring about some claustrophobia after all. Tony dropped Peter's duffle bag outside the elevator door after they stepped out and led the teen down the hall to the lab that they usually worked on Spidey-stuff in. The compound was oddly empty, but Tony said most of the others were actually down at the tower to get whatever stuff they left in storage there. Peter set his backpack on one of the few empty tables in the lab and pulled out his notebook that held all his notes and research on his webs. Sure, on scraps of paper and in a high school chemistry notebook probably isn’t the best place for that, but it worked for him. He placed the web shooters themselves on the table as well in case they had to tinker with the nozzles. Better safe than sorry.
Their first mission was to get some stronger webs- after one incident of a web snapping mid-swing and Peter plummeting a few feet before recovering, Tony was very keen on there being no more repeats of that. What better way to improve the odds than creating strong webs? So, Tony worked on the web shooters to make sure that nothing was malfunctioning there and that way they’d be able to handle a little more density. It was sort of like the different kinds of leads in mechanical pencils- .7 would slip right out of a .9 pencil and a .9 wouldn’t even fit correctly in a .7 pencil. Whilst the mechanic worked on that, Peter was testing out the different formulas they’d come up with, and at least once used the phrase ”It’s not an explosion if the fire alarm doesn’t go off”.
Whilst the spiderling worked away at the chemicals, he heard his phone go off with the Kim Possible text alert sound. Everyone in his phone had a different alert noise so that way Peter would know who was texting him each time- this was May. “Mr Stark, could you hand me my phone please? That was a text from Aunt May.” Since she found out about his Spider-Man-ing, they’d set a rule that he’d have to try and respond to her messages as soon as he could (especially when he was patrolling or off at the tower or compound) so she could make sure he wasn’t in trouble. It was understandable, Peter didn’t blame her.
“You’re young, you can reach it.”
“Pleeeeease?” Puppy dog eyes, give him the eyes.
“Fine,” Tony sighed after trying to fight off The Eyes. He stood up from besides the kid and grabbed his phone that sat besides his backpack. “One day, that trick isn’t going to work on me anymore.” The screen was still lit up from the notification, showing off Peter’s lock screen. Usually, it was a picture from the top of a building during patrols, but this time, it was just four colors lined up almost like a flag- black, grey, white, and purple (in that order). “I liked your old background, you should send it to me.” He handed Peter his phone.
“Thanks, I got it from the top of the Times Square building.”
“That’s a ways out of your jurisdiction, don’t you think?”
“I went for the picture, and it was worth the insanely bright lights.”
“So, what do these colors mean?”
“What?” Peter looked up from where he had been typing. “Oh, that’s, erm, nothing. Just a nice color scheme, y’know? I-I was thinking about changing it back anyways..”
“Whatever you want, Underoos. It’s your wallpaper.” It was painfully obvious that the kid was hiding something, but Tony wasn’t going to push it just yet. Maybe after Peter inevitably passed out during their movie night, he could look into it?
That’s exactly what ended up happening. They’d been watching Star Trek, which Pete swore was better than the fantastic Star Wars trilogy, when he drifted off all curled up against Tony who’d been absent-mindedly messing with the sleeping teen’s curls. He should move him off to his room soon, shouldn’t he? First, he was going to see if he could uncover this strange mystery. So, he looked up the color scheme and was met with a few different looking flags, easily finding the one from Peter’s phone. Asexuality it had said. Confused, Tony clicked on the link:
“Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity. It may be considered the lack of a sexual orientation, or one of the variations thereof, alongside heterosexuality, homosexuality and bisexuality.”
As he continued to read, he found something on the black ring he’d saw Peter wearing.
“In the asexual community, there are many symbols and signs, from playing cards to orientation flags, that we use to identify ourselves. Today I want to focus on a key symbol in the asexual community, the ace ring. What an ace ring is, is a black ring worn on the middle finger. Typically, the ace ring is placed on the right hand, but it’s not a set rule. The designs on the ring, the style, and the meaning of the ring varies between ace to ace, but at the base it is away to show off our asexual pride to other people and potentially meet other asexuals.”
The more research he did, the more Tony found himself understanding. The mitosis shirt from before, asexual reproduction. But why all now and at once? Oh. Oh- it was the awareness week. Yeah, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall together now. What Tony didn’t understand was why Peter had been trying so hard to hide it from him. What’d he think would happen, he’d start to hate him? That was ridiculous- Tony couldn’t care less about who Peter was into and in which ways. He’d only have a problem if whoever it was wasn’t treating his kid right. Now, how to broach the subject of that in actual words? Well, maybe he didn’t need words..
The following morning, Peter woke up in the room Tony had gave him in the compound- he must’ve fallen asleep during the movie again and got moved back into his room while he was sleeping. God, he had to stop doing that. Peter rubbed his eyes and yawned as he sat up, swinging his feet off of the bed and going over to fix his absolute mess of a bed head. He almost didn’t notice what was in front of the dresser-vanity’s mirror until his brush knocked it off and there was a soft clank. It… it was a little ace pin. But, that wasn’t his, he didn’t really have anything of it and hadn’t told anyone yet. There was a little note attached, though:
Thought you might like this, enjoy your week. -Tony
He knew? Oh god, how’d he know? He wasn’t supposed to know yet- no one was! Hell, he barely found out last month! Well, it didn’t seem like he was upset, so that was good. Peter put the little pin on and finished up his morning routine before walking out to the main room where Tony had been attempting to make breakfast-key word being “attempting”. “Mornin’, kid. Sleep well?”
“Um, yeah. I did. You?” Peter asked, looking for a way to help out.
“Eh, as fine as I ever sleep,” Tony shrugged. He paused for a moment and glanced back at the teen. “So, you like your pin?”
“Mhm, it’s great,” It really was. “Just… how’d you know? I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Peter, you are the worst secret-keeper I’ve ever met. It amazes me how only your friend and your aunt found out that you’re Spidey. Seriously.”
“Was it the, uh, wallpaper?”
“That was a big part of it, yeah.”
“And you’re not... mad? Or anything?”
Tony turned to face Peter now, his expression serious. “Kid, why would I be mad? You’re still you, now I just know a little more about you. It’s not like I found out your selling illegal drugs or anything, this shouldn’t and doesn’t affect how I see you. You’re still my kid. I couldn’t care less if you were gay, straight, bi, or asexual. I’m just wondering why you thought you had to hide it from me?”
“Well,” Peter began, fidgeting a bit now. Yeah, he should’ve known that was coming. “It’s just that a lot of people in the community aren’t very ace-friendly.. They call us attention seekers and needing to be “fixed” and that we’re calling ourselves this because we “can’t get laid”,” He used the air quotes out loud. “Broken is another common one..”
“Well, they’re couldn’t be any farther from the truth, kid. And if anyone tries to tell you any of that, tell them that they can take it up with Iron Man,” Tony paused again. “No one has said any of that to you, right, Peter?”
“N-no, no,” Peter shook his head. “You’re the only one that knows.”
And with that said, a rare Tony Stark hug was initiated.
“At least now I don’t have to worry about having The Talk with you.”
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pocketsunshineharry · 2 years ago
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🌙  Drifting, Weightless by @catfishau (41k) Exes to Lovers, Cruise Ships
“We’ve been asked to do a gig,” Niall said slowly. “Harry and Liam are completely up for it, I am too.” “Alright. What’s the catch?” Louis asked with suspicion. “It’s, um…” Niall cleared his throat. “So, Juliana was contacted by this themed cruise company, and they want us to do a four-day One Direction cruise.” The words hung in the air as Louis’ right eyebrow slowly crept up and he fixed Niall with a stare. “Absolutely not.” Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re essentially asking me to go on a working holiday with my ex. Stranded on a boat in the ocean for four days.” “Cruise ships are huge! You don’t have to see him in your down time.”
Harry and Louis are exes with benefits until they're not, and the Mediterranean Sea might just be the perfect place to work through some unresolved issues.
🌙   Best Friend's Brother by DirtyLarryStylinson (85k)  
*Best friend's brother AU*
When Harry Styles realises that his best friend, Liam, has an older brother hotter than the sun itself, how will he cope with the tension?
Harry Styles, 17, has been best friends with Liam Tomlinson for a couple of years. When he meets Louis Tomlinson, Liam's hot older brother, sexual tension ensues, too powerful to be ignored.
But will Liam discover the sexual connection between his best friend and brother? And will it ever be resolved?
🌙   Beauty Behind The Madness by @larrydomain (59k) Single Parent Harry, Neighbors AU 
Harry doesn't meet the worlds perspective of looks, causing him to be judged every time he leaves his house. He never lets it get to him, because he knows that when he gets home at the end of the day he has the most beautiful little girl waiting for him.
So with just her and the lovely old lady down the hall who babysits her, Harry thinks his life is good enough for him.
Of course it all changes when the apartment across from him gets new attendants.
🌙  Baby we could be enough  by @loudippedincaramel  (26k) The Holiday AU    
“Sorry. About the whole,” the man waves his hands at the door, probably trying to convey ‘trying to break into your house.’
“Trying to break into my house?” Louis arches an eyebrow at how the man goes red, scuffing one of his boots against the other. Louis is helpful what can he say?
Or: When Louis comes back to London after not having been for five years, a beautiful stranger tries to break into his house. Louis gets to know the beautiful stranger only to find out something rather surprising. Lots of fluff and smut and general happiness ensue during Louis' stay in London.
🌙  Fate Chances Moonlight  by simmerup (16k) Daycare Harry, Single parent Louis
Single dad Louis is this close to giving up on daycares altogether and just hiring Niall as his full-time nanny when Liam convinces him to give it one more go. It was the first in a long line of daycares that has driven Louis to the edge, but it's under new ownership, and this guy is not at all what Louis was expecting.
🌙  Far Away by @dimpled-halo (57k) Post Break Up AU
Harry swallows hard, clearing his throat. “Hi Lou,” he says, looking at Louis reluctantly. He’s even more gorgeous than he remembers, so much, he feels uneasy looking directly at him, he’s so beautiful.  Louis looks at Harry, does a quick once-over and smiles, eyes so bright and blue—just how Harry remembers. “Harold!” He gets up out of his seat and embraces him into a warm hug. It’s a friendly platonic hug; one that ends way too soon. Harry wishes it would last longer so that he can breathe Louis in and memorize his new but somehow still familiar scent. It instantly leaves his body aching for more.
Harry returns to London after five years. Stuck in the past with "what ifs" and "what might have beens", he sees that his friends and ex (and possible love of his life) Louis have all moved on with their lives while he finds himself questioning his own life choices, past and present.
🌙   Magic Everywhere We Go by @casuallyh​l (19k) Established relationship Kid Fic
Fifteen years after first meeting Louis at a mutual friend’s birthday party, Harry is just as in love with his husband as he was on their wedding day. And with the birth of each new child, Harry seems to have only grown to love him more.
And now Harry is spending four days at the happiest place on earth with all of his favorite people – his mum and stepdad, his four beautiful children, and his perfect husband.
Life couldn’t get any better than this.
Or, Harry and Louis go on holiday with their family to Disney World.
🌙  Oh but my darling, what if you fly? by squintyeyedlwt (22k) Disneyland AU, Peter Pan Louis
“Okay, how can you afford to come here every single day?” Louis asked, bewildered. Harry grinned, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He opened it and pulled out a card. He handed it to Louis, who exclaimed, “A season pass?!”
“Yeah,” Harry chuckled, “Why pay that much every single day to see you?”
“You got a season pass just so you could see me every day?”
An au in which louis plays peter pan at disneyland, and harry gets a season pass so that he can talk to louis everyday.
🌙  Not the Desperate Type by @lululawrence (6k) Meet-Cute, Neighbors AU  
“First of all, I’d like to tell you how disturbing it is that you’re this familiar with your neighbor’s sex life,” Liam said, amusement lacing his tone.
“Fuck off,” Louis said, laughing.
“Second, that is really very sad. How bad is the stomping? Are you sure your neighbor doesn’t like it fast like that?”
“With the amount of cleaning the guy does, I think he’s taking out his sexual frustration on the cleanliness of his apartment. I can’t imagine the guy makes enough mess to require daily vacuuming.”
It sounded like the guy was actually moving furniture above him as he was sweeping now. Damn. Did Louis miss the seven minutes in heaven or was the guy angry because he didn’t even get that much pleasure today?
“I’m kinda afraid with the amount of noise he produces while cleaning that one day I’m gonna look up through my ceiling and be able to see him.”
“Tell him we wish him a better sex life and that we’re rooting for him if you do.”
Or the one where Louis' neighbor has a series of unfortunately short sexual experiences and Louis can hear every. Single. One.
🌙  Boy Interrupted  by MrsStylinson (22k) Roomates AU
Five times that Harry walks in on Louis by accident and the one time he walks in on purpose.
Or, the one where they can only resist each other for so long, featuring some epic sexual tension, a heavy dose of pining, a hint of angst and a fluffy ending.
・:*:・ Please if you give a read to these fics, leave a nice comment and/or a kudo, I’m sure it’ll be appreciated! Thank you! ・:*:・
More Fic recs here
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septiceyeliner · 6 months ago
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↳Heat Waves by @heytherestilinski
“He [Dream] wants to slide backwards in time, to the moment he crouched under the bending moon on the darkened shore. Had he waded in slower, and brought George waist-deep in the purple water, perhaps they could have sank with grace instead of fury.”
Do Not Repost Anywhere
Full cover spread + extras under read more!
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Thank you so so much to both @auburnrose & @technoblacle who graciously gave me quotes to include on the cover! Seriously the back would’ve looked so empty without them :’)
Yes, the QR code does work. I used one instead of a bar code because I didn’t want to accidentally make people believe heat waves was getting published or something.
Time for me to ramble! I’ve never made a book cover much less a full spread, but I hope it looks convincing enough? This took several several hours of work over the course of almost a week... God I spent way too much time on this..
I pulled out all the stops for this, jumping between procreate/illustator/indesign on my iPad and laptop. I used to hate illustrator, and now, it’s my best friend. Some of my friends sat in vc with me watching as I had several mental breakdowns because I couldn’t figure out how to make this work. There were several sketches all of which looked like absolute garbage to me. And when I started searching for photos I had no idea what I was looking for or what I was going to do. I think I went through the seven stages of grief and almost scrapped the whole thing when it was nearly finished just so I could start over.
Would I pick this up if I saw it at a book store? Maybe! Is it going in my portfolio? Yes, because I’m very proud of myself.
But enough about me crying “graphic design is my passion I swear!!!” I want to say some nice things about Dakota and heat waves :’)
I’m not good with words so I just want to at least say thank you Dakota! You honestly reignited my desire to create graphics again after not being able to for years. Your words painted such clear illustrations in my mind after being in a terrible art block. Some of which I’ve brought to life, others I hope to create in the future for more of your works. I wish I could’ve included more quotes! I wanted to include them as a positive reminder that people love your work and it is worthy of praise. I’m excited for Helium and maybe once that’s finished I’ll make an even better cover for it!
Edit: I made a whole post explaining my process here!! x
If anyone wants to see the sketches/timelapse videos/and me explaining my process and the cover more in-depth let me know! It’s not that deep but I can still share some stuff about it :’)
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Kiss A Guy? Sure, Why Not?
The Biderman fic has arrived! Woo-hoo!
“Peter Benjamin Parker, why the hell am I getting an email from Norman Osborne about how I’m losing my best intern to him?”
Maybe it was the tone of his voice, or maybe it was the fact that it was accompanied by loud footsteps coming down the hall, but it sent a wave of panic coursing through Peter. The teen jumped a bit, dropping his phone, and looked behind him to see Tony making his way to where he sat on the couch with a look of anger. Needless to say, it scared the hell out of Peter. His voice was caught in his throat as he opened it to try and explain, but nothing came out.
“Oh, so you do know exactly what I’m walking about,” Tony stood in front of his kid, looking down at him with his hands on his hips. “Well go on, explain yourself. What did Oscorp offer you? Was it something that I did? I thought you wanted to work here, so what did I do to change that and make you go behind my back to work for my biggest rival?” Thousands of thoughts began racing through Peter’s mind, most prominent ones being No no no no no and What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?, and before he was able to say anything, Tony held up a hand to cut him off. “You know what? No, I don’t want to hear it. I’ll be in my lab, don’t come down unless you’re in imminent danger. Happy will drive you home in the morning.”
Of course, it was as Tony walked away when Peter found his voice again, “Mr Stark, w-wait-!” He got up from where he’d been sitting and hurried to catch up with his pseudo-father. “I-I can explain!”
“I told you, I don’t want to hear it. What part of that did you not understand, Parker?” Tony spat. Sure, he put on a tough exterior, but he really just felt betrayed by the kid. May had once told him that it was Peter’s dream, his dream, to work at Stark Industries one day, and now he was going behind his back to intern at Oscorp? It hurt.
Peter knew he shouldn’t have been upset, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart with how Tony looked at him with such disappointment and disgust. It was rightfully earned, though. Peter knew that. “I-I-I’m sorry, sir, but please. J-Just hear me out.”
Tony stared at the teen pleading in front of him for a moment before giving in. “Fine,” He sighed. “Explain, you’ve got one minute on the clock, starting now. Go.” The engineer didn’t know what to expect from Peter, but he certainly wasn’t expecting the kid to start speaking a mile a minute that he only caught half of.
“So there’s this guy who goes to my school and is a grade above me who’s really nice and sweet and smart and funny,” Peter began quickly, grammar going out the window in order to save time. “A-a-and sometimes he sits with Ned and me at lunch even though he could literally have a seat at any table he wants. A-Anyways, he mentioned that he goes to Oscorp after school sometimes to help his dad and I told him that I was applying for an internship there and he smiled at me and then I signed up. I-I didn’t know what I was doing, I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t th-thinking, I w-was just trying to get him to like me and I’m sorry tha-”
“Okay,” Tony interrupted, holding a hand out. “Alright. So, what you're telling me is that this was all for a boy?"
Peter nodded shamefully. "'M sorry..."
"Pete, you're ridiculous," Tony told him, hands over his face but unable to prevent the smallest of grins. Peter hadn't suddenly gotten manipulative or purposely betrayed him or anything, he just didn't know how to handle a crush. He went to Oscorp for a crush- that was more in his character. He was still a bit peeved out how this all happened, but that's all now. "Alright, who's his father?"
"I'm sorry?" Peter asked, looking up again with confusion. He was being so much more formal now, as if that'd help him win favor with Tony again.
"The one you said works at Oscorp?" Tony sighed. "What's his name? Depending on his work ethic, I might bring him over here so that way you have no reason to go over there anymore."
Peter's face fell a little and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um, well, the thing is.. I'm not sure if that can happen." Tony's face went stern and confused, but let the teen continue. "N-now don't get mad, please, because I-I didn't know this when we first met, but.... His dad is Mr Osborn." Of course, Parker luck just had to make the cute junior in his chemistry and gym class Harry Osborn. Of all people it could've been, him! It wasn't like Peter wanted to like him, he tried to dislike him for Mr Stark, but it became impossible.
It was oddly Romeo and Juliet-esc, but hopefully no one will be dying. This is real life, after all, and stuff like that doesn't happen. Then again, getting bitten by a radioactive spider and gaining powers from it doesn't seem like something that would happen in real life either.
"Do you have to make things more complicated for yourself, kid?" Tony asked, stifling a laugh. This was so absurd, so Peter, that it was hilarious. "It just had to be Harry, didn't it?"
"I'm sorry, I tried to not-"
"He's a good kid, Pete," He put a hand on the teen's shoulder before moving it up to ruffle the messy mop of curls. "His father might be an absolute dick, but the few times I've met him, he's been nothing but polite. I didn't know he went to your school though, thought Norman shipped him off to some boarding school."
"Yeah, it was kinda a surprise to me too," Peter replied, feeling more at ease now. Tony wasn't, or at least didn't appear to be, mad anymore. Thank god.
"I just want to make sure that he doesn't have any bad intentions with my kid," Tony returned to somewhat serious dad mode again.
"Mr Stark, I don't think-"
"Hey, it's my turn to talk right now. Alright?" Peter went quiet and Tony continued. "Now like I said- he's not a dick from what I know, but his dad is. Before you get too attached , or more than you already are, I want to make sure that Norman isn't trying to manipulate Harry in order to get Stark secrets from you. I wouldn't put it below him. How about you tell me about how you too got to talking?"
Peter would be lying if he said that that hadn't crossed his mind once or twice. After all, something randomly blossoming between the son of Norman Osborn and what was basically the son of Tony Stark seemed very unlikely and kind of suspicious. Ned expressed his worries about that, but tried to stay positive and hope for his friend. Plus, they'd recently found out that Harry liked guys as well as girls, and they thought that was a reason to celebrate and be hopeful. "Yeah, good idea," Peter nodded. "It started when he stood up to Flash for me one day, the day I came in with a black eye. Well, after Flash backed off, he helped me get my stuff off the floor and we started walking to fifth period, chemistry, that we apparently shared.
We talked a little in class and again during lunch. He sat by Ned and I, which was so cool since y’know, he could sit at any table he wants. I’ve kinda been labeled as the Stark Internship kid, so we talked about that a bit and he talked about some of the work he does at Oscorp. I swear I didn’t know until then, and I was kinda in too deep at that point. It was mostly horrible science puns and finger guns on my end for two weeks until I pulled a stupid move and said that I was looking into Oscorp after Harry said that he would want to hang out after school some time when he was free.. Don’t worry, Ned gave me a painful kick to the shin after that.”
Tony stayed quiet for a moment, thinking, before responding, “It sounds like that he’s either into you as well or desperate to bring you over to the dark side. Nowhere in between.”
“You think so?” Peter asked, clearly hopeful for the former.
“What sane person would listen to you make awkward puns on a daily basis if not for either of those reasons?” The man teased, ruffling his kid’s hair. “You know, you can always invite him over here one day, if you wanted and if his father would let him in a ten mile radius of this place. Obviously, no going into any of the special projects lab until we know for certain, but this’ll definitely be better than you going to Oscorp.” May was going to get a kick out of this, Tony thought. Damn, he needed to get some childhood photos of Pete to embarrass him if Harry ever came over- that’s what good mentor-dad-thing’s do, right? She and Pepper could probably help make sure he did the right thing.
“Are you serious? That’s… awesome!” Peter beamed. “Thank you so much, a-and I really am sorry about this whole mess.”
“You’re a teenager, you’re going to do stupid things,” Tony shrugged, unable to help a grin himself. “Plus, there is that Gala this weekend that I was planning on ditching. I could bring you, if your aunt would let you go. Harry’s probably the only kid there, so it’d give you two time to hang out.”
This left Peter’s jaw hanging open a little. Did he really just get invited to The Gala just to hang out with his crush? This was crazy! “Holy crap…! I need to find a new suit-” He needed to do a lot more than just that- find out under which set of lockers was his suit from homecoming, learn how to talk to Harry, figure out if he should act like he didn’t know that he’d be there or not or play it off casually, find some non-pun related conversation topics, etc.
“I can get that for you, kid,” Tony replied, amused at Peter’s expression. “You are not walking out of this house Saturday night wearing an untailored suit like you did for your homecoming. While baggy clothes can be adorable, if that’s what you’re going for because you’ve got it, a baggy suit makes you look like a slum. You’re going to be a proper little Stark that night, okay?”
“You don’t have to do that, Mr Stark,” Peter insisted, slightly flustered at being called “adorable” by his pseudo-dad. He wasn’t eight, he wasn’t adorable.
“I want to, that’s the thing. It’s not like it’d put a dent in my wallet anyways.”
“Right, okay. Thanks,” Peter smiled, before pausing for a moment. “You think he’ll find me adorable?”
Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Pete, you’ve got a baby face, it’s a part of your charm. Flaunt those cursed puppy dog eyes you’ve got and if he wasn’t interested before, he will be. Trust me, I wouldn’t steer you wrong here.”
Before the older man knew it, the spiderling had wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, a soft smile upon his lips. “Thanks for helping me, and I’m sorry for going behind your back before.” Tony smiled in return, running a hand through the boy’s curls.
“It’s fine, kiddo, don’t worry. I am going to embarrass you at one point as payback, May should have some good ammo.”
The change of expression from fondness to absolute terror on Peter’s face was priceless.
Thinking about adding more to this, but I’m not sure. What do y’all think?
See More Here
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pocketsunshineharry · 2 years ago
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◈  Come Home to Me ◈ by @pocketsunshineharry (Ishiplouis) (11k) 
Break-Up / Love Letters / Getting back Together
The worst, Louis thinks, is the minute right when he wakes up in the morning and his mind is looking for Harry. His hand reaches out, his body searches the heat, his head turns towards the other pillow. But then realisation crushes his heart. Harry left.
So his head sinks back into his pillow and his hands curl up around the comforter to hide himself underneath. Harry left. It’s been three days and Louis prefers to cuddle Harry’s pillow rather than think about it.
Or an AU where Harry left, leaving behind only a box of letters.
Thank you to the owners of the manips used.
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paladinpeterparker · 3 years ago
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The Note // Shirbert
[Reposting again because of errors, sorry!]
So this is basically a shirbert fic I wrote on a whim. To sum it up, it’s shirbert x Valentine’s Day disaster. I know that it’s not even close to Valentine’s Day, but hey, it doesn’t even matter. This is the first shirbert fic I’ve written, so fair warning, it’s pretty garbage. And it’s super long. Like really long. Like maybe-I-shouldn’t-have-written-seven-pages long. So yeah. Tell me what you guys think if you read it. Also, creds to Google for these gifs? Sorry if I’m not giving specific creds, but if you want them removed, just tell me, I don’t want to be a messy bitch.
Also, quick update: I’ve posted this fic on AO3 (it’s my first fic on there!)
AO3
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“Diana, don’t you think Valentine’s Day is just so romantical?” Anne asked.
Diana and Anne were walking to the schoolhouse that day, and despite the fact that they were trudging through snow, freezing cold, they were in high spirits.
“Indeed,” Diana said. “I love Valentine’s Day. It’s always so much fun.”
“I’ve always wanted to have someone confess their unfaltering love for me on Valentine’s Day. Wouldn’t that be just so romantic?” Anne sighed, lost in her mind once more, imagining all the wonderful ways one could confess their love on such a day as this.
“By someone, do you mean…Gilbert Blythe?” Diana asked, raising an eyebrow at Anne.
“Diana!” Anne said, tugging at one of her awful red braids and looking around. At the mention of his name, Anne felt a blush on her cheeks, though she had no idea why. “Don’t say that! You know I don’t like him in that way. And, of course, it would upset Ruby to hear us talking about him like that. You know she’s liked him for the longest time.”
Diana gave Anne a knowing smile. “Ruby may have liked him for the longest time, but he only seems to like you.”
“No!” Anne exclaimed, crossing her arms. “He-” she huffed, “he doesn’t like me!”
“Right. Sure.” Diana looked away from Anne, laughing slightly to herself.
The schoolhouse came into view, and Anne felt a sense of relief. Once they arrived at school, Diana would have to stop pestering her about Gilbert Blythe.
“We should hurry to school,” Anne said, looking over at Diana. “We don’t want to be tardy, right?”
“Of course,” Diana replied. “Besides, you never know. Gilbert might be waiting for you inside so he can confess his love before school starts.”
“You are not funny, Diana!” Anne said, clasping her hands together in front of her.
“Well, when Gilbert finally admits he has a crush on you, both Cole and I get to say ‘I told you so.’” Diana grinned.
Anne rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Diana. Gilbert and I are nothing more than friends.”
The two of them had reached the schoolhouse. For some reason, as she looked up at the building, Anne felt a flutter in her stomach. Despite all the reasons why it couldn’t happen, Anne couldn’t help but wonder if someone could possibly like her enough to confess their love. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, though. It’s not like she was hoping anyone in particular would admit their affections, right?
The first part of the day was quite uneventful, and Anne found it disappointing that nothing romantical had happened at all. Lunch was almost over, and Anne and all of her friends were engrossed in a conversation about the possible displays of affection that could occur.
“If someone confesses their love to me, I want it to be in the grandest way possible,” Josie said, flipping her hair behind her shoulders. “I want flowers, and a song, and maybe even a cake.”
“As long as it was Gilbert Blythe confessing his love to me,” Ruby said, her eyes wide, “I wouldn’t mind how he did it.”
Diana smiled at the group. “I would probably just want something simple. I think flowers would be nice.”
All the girls nodded their heads in agreement, except Anne, who looked like she was lost in thought.
“Anne?” Diana said, snapping Anne out of her thoughts. “What about you?”
“Oh,” Anne said, frowning. “I don’t…know.”
Diana thought that Anne’s lack of an answer was odd. Usually, Anne would have given them a long-winded explanation of exactly what her ideal admission of love would look like, but she clearly had something else on her mind. Before she could ask Anne about it, though, they heard Miss Stacy announcing the end of lunch.
The girls packed up their baskets and stood up. Diana and Anne took down the curtain, and as they were folding it up, something caught Diana’s eye.
“Anne,” Diana said, looking over at her friend. “What’s that piece of paper on your desk?”
Anne frowned, squinting at the piece of paper. “I don’t know. It wasn’t there before lunch.”
Diana set the curtain down, and the two of them walked over to the desk, reeled in by curiosity.
Anne reached for the piece of paper and picked it up. It had been folded in half and set so that it couldn’t be read by someone simply walking by. Anne unfolded the note and read the writing on it:
Anne,
It seems that you have always been one for romance, so I believe that there would be no better time to confess my feelings for you than on this Valentine’s Day.
Perhaps the idea of an anonymous admirer will make you wary of this note, but I urge you to consider otherwise.
If you will allow me to share my feelings for you, come to the clearing in the woods behind the schoolhouse as soon as school ends.
It is up to you.
Happy Valentine’s Day,
Your Secret Admirer
Anne looked up from the note, a frown on her face. She folded the paper up again, not wanting anyone else to see it.
“What does it say?” Diana asked, intrigued. “Who is it from?”
“It’s from a secret admirer,” Anne replied. “They want me to meet them in the woods behind the schoolhouse so they can confess their love.”
Diana’s eyes widened. “How romantic! You’re going to meet them, I assume?”
Anne sighed. “What if this is some kind of joke, Diana? Why would someone like me?”
“Don’t be silly, Anne!” Diana said. “There are so many reasons why someone would like you. I think you should go meet this ‘secret admirer.’ It could be the person you like.” Diana’s eyes shifted to the door, where Gilbert and his friends had just walked into the schoolhouse.
Anne looked up from the note, following Diana’s gaze. As her eyes moved to look at Gilbert, he looked up at her, and their eyes met. Gilbert gave Anne a small smile, and Anne quickly turned around, looking back at the note in her hand. She was curious about the note. Diana seemed to think it was Gilbert who had written the note, but Anne wasn’t so sure. Gilbert didn’t even like her, so the notion that he would be her secret admirer was ridiculous. Plus, she wouldn’t want the admirer to be Gilbert. She didn’t like him, either.
“So you are going?” Diana asked, grinning excitedly at Anne.
The school day had ended, and the two of them stood in the schoolhouse, putting on their coats and hats. They were the last ones there, as Anne had spent a while deliberating on whether she should go or not.
“I’ve decided that I will go,” Anne said, “but only if you go with me.”
Diana frowned. “You would really want me there? I’d just interrupt the romance of it all.”
Anne shook her head. “I want you there. Just in case.”
“Fine,” Diana said. “I am curious to see who this secret admirer is, anyways.”
“Alright,” Anne said. “We should go now. The note said to meet them after school.”
So, the two picked up their things and headed off for the clearing in the woods.
In the forest, the snow crunched beneath their feet, and Anne found that she rather enjoyed the feeling of the February breeze against her skin, despite how cold it was. She shifted her books on her shoulder. The clearing was a relatively short walk from the school, and as they came closer to the clearing, she closed her eyes for a brief second, listening to the wind in the trees above her, the dead leaves scraping on the bark of the trees, the snow beneath their feet–
“Diana,” Anne said, stopping suddenly. “Why do I hear voices?”
Diana stopped too, and turned to Anne, frowning. “I don’t know. I hear them, too.”
They approached the clearing slowly, and Anne’s heart sank when she saw some of her classmates standing in the clearing.
They all turned as she and Diana approached, and Anne noticed Billy Andrews standing at the front of the group, a wicked smile on his face.
“What are you doing here, Billy?” Anne snapped, clearly disappointed. It seemed that there was no secret admirer to be found.
“I’m surprised you actually showed up,” Billy said, crossing his arms. “I thought you were much smarter than that.”
“What are you talking about?” Diana asked, stepping forward and glaring at Billy.
“Honestly, Anne, are you really gullible enough to believe a note from a secret admirer? You really think anyone would ever like you?” Billy let out a harsh laugh, and a few of her classmates standing behind Billy laughed along with him.
Anne felt tears pricking at her eyes, but she wasn’t about to let Billy see her cry. Not because of this. “So it was a joke.”
Billy smirked. “Of course it was. Why would anyone ever like you, Anne? You’re a freak.”
Some of Billy’s friends jeered behind him, and Anne felt her resolve slipping.
“Billy, stop! Don’t be so awful!” Diana stepped closer to Anne, hoping to comfort her.
Billy didn’t stop. “You’re an ugly orphan, Anne. You have hair as orange as…” Billy laughed shortly. “As orange as carrots. You’re too focused on all those stories in your head, because you know that’s all you have.”
“Billy, stop it!” Diana shouted, reaching out to comfort Anne.
Anne hardly felt Diana’s hand on her arm. Her head was swimming, and now she couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes and spilling onto her cheeks.
Billy opened his mouth to yell something else, but didn’t. It was odd. Anne noticed him looking at a spot in the woods behind her, and she turned around.
It was, of course, Gilbert Blythe.
“What’s going on here?” Gilbert asked, approaching the clearing.
“Nothing,” Billy said, shrugging. “We were just having a little fun.”
Gilbert looked over at Anne, who quickly wiped the tears off her face.
“Are you okay?” He asked her, his voice full of concern.
Anne felt trapped. It was as if this was all some sort of bad dream. She knew that she had to get out of here.
So, she turned and she ran.
“Anne!” Diana called. “Where are you going?”
Anne didn’t turn back. She just kept running. She had to get away from there.
She heard someone running behind her, but she didn’t turn around to see who it was. She just kept running.
“Anne, stop! Please!” It was Diana, who was trying to keep up with Anne. “Just talk to me!”
Anne stopped suddenly and turned around. “Why, Diana? So you can convince me to go back there?”
Diana stopped running, too. “What?” She frowned, confused.
“You told me that it wasn’t a joke! You told me that it was possible for someone to actually like me! I wouldn’t have gone if it wasn’t for you!” Anne clenched her fists at her sides.
“Anne!” Diana said, crossing her arms. “You know that this wasn’t my fault. You would have gone even if I hadn’t told you that. This was not my fault.”
As Diana’s words set in, Anne felt the anger leave her body. It was as if she was deflating. “I know,” she said, her voice soft. She dropped her head, looking down at her feet. “It’s not your fault, Diana. You were just being kind, as you always are. I’m sorry.”
Diana sighed. “Oh, Anne. I’m sorry that this happened to you. Do you want to walk home together now? I think you’ll feel better once we get you back to Green Gables.”
Anne shook her head. “I’d like to be alone for a little bit if that’s alright. I just…don’t want to see anyone right now. I need time to think.”
Diana nodded. “Of course. I understand.” She gave Anne a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Anne tried to smile back. “Yeah. I’ll see you then.”
As soon as Diana turned away and began to walk back to where she had come from, Anne turned the other way. Her anger had all left her, leaving her to feel nothing but shame and despair. She trudged along through the woods, her feet dragging.
After walking for a few minutes, she found a fallen tree, and she sat on its trunk. She buried her face in her hands. How had this happened? Valentine’s Day was supposed to be romantic. She was supposed to have been happy. Now, she was sitting by herself, cold and alone in the middle of the woods. The air was only becoming colder, and the sun had started to set, leading Anne to wonder how long she had been walking for.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a twig snap close to her. “Diana,” she said. “I told you. I want to be alone.”
“Then I’ll only take a minute of your time,” the reply came, but it was not Diana’s voice.
Anne looked up and sighed upon recognition of the person.
“Gilbert. What are you doing here?”
Gilbert smiled at Anne. “I’m sorry. I tried to follow you, but you were too fast. I met Diana on my way here, and she pointed me in the right direction. And now I’m here.”
“Why are you here, Gilbert?” Anne crossed her arms.
Gilbert looked down, then scuffed the toe of his boot in the snow. “I have something to give you.” He looked up at Anne. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the tree she was sitting on.
Anne shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Gilbert sat down next to Anne on the tree, leaving just a few inches of space between the two of them. “So, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
Anne sighed. “I know. It’s truly the worst Valentine’s Day ever.”
Gilbert smiled slightly. “So, I kind of have something I need to tell you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. As he took the paper out of his pocket, their elbow brushed, and despite the fact that it was barely any contact at all, Anne felt her heartbeat pick up. She had no idea why she was suddenly so nervous around Gilbert.
He handed her the paper, and she took it, turning it over in her hands.
“So,” Gilbert said. “I was going to leave that note on your desk today while you were eating lunch.”
“Oh?” Anne said, confused as to where this was going.
“I was going to,” he continued. “But then I saw Billy leaving a note on your desk, and I figured since it was probably the same kind of note that I planned to leave there, it would be best if I just kept the note.”
“The same kind of note?” Anne asked. “What does that mean?”
Gilbert looked down at his hands and fiddled with the edge of his glove as if it was suddenly hard for him to make eye contact with her.
“Gilbert,” Anne said. “What aren’t you telling me? Were you planning on pulling a prank on me, too?”
Gilbert’s eyes widened. “No! Never. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then what’s in the note?” Anne demanded.
Gilbert let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a, uh, confession.”
Anne felt her breath catch, but she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. It could be any kind of confession. A confession of hate. A confession of murder. It could be anything. “A confession of what, Gilbert?”
He sighed. “A confession of my feelings. My feelings for you.”
Anne felt a blush creeping up her neck. “Oh.” She said, unsure of how to respond. “What does it say?”
“It’s a quote. From Jane Eyre.” Gilbert looked up as if he was wracking his memory for the quote. “‘I have for the first time found what I can truly love – I have found you.’” His voice caught on the word love, breaking slightly. “I know you like Jane Eyre.”
“It’s one of my favorite books,” Anne confirmed, her voice quiet.
Gilbert reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small package wrapped in white tissue paper. “I know it’s probably too much to buy someone a gift for Valentine’s Day, but when I saw this in the store a few days ago, I thought of you.”
He handed the gift to Anne, who lifted it gingerly from his hands and unwrapped the tissue paper. Inside the paper sat a white handkerchief, embroidered with bright, beautiful, colored flowers. Anne looked back up at Gilbert, a smile lighting up her face.
“It’s beautiful!” She exclaimed.
Gilbert grinned. “I just thought that since I couldn’t pick flowers to give you for Valentine’s Day – seeing as the ground is still covered in snow – this would suffice.”
Anne looked down at the handkerchief, and she ran the fabric through her fingers, tracing over the flowers with her thumb. “Thank you, Gilbert. Really.”
She glanced up at him, and their eyes met, and this time, she didn’t look away.
“Anne,” he said. “I know you probably don’t feel the same, but, in case I haven’t already made it clear…” He took a deep breath. “I like you. I know you don’t think of yourself as the kind of girl that people fall in love with, because of – what? – your looks?” He shook his head. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Besides that, you’re so intelligent, Anne. I know you’re going to beat me in class someday. You have the most wonderful imagination. You make all the dull, ordinary things around us into beautiful fantasies. You’re the brightest thing I’ve ever seen. You’re brighter and more beautiful than all the stars in the sky, Anne. And I really like you. I know you don’t feel the same about me, but I’m telling you this now in hopes that maybe, someday, you might feel the same.”
Anne didn’t know what to say. She had no idea how to respond to his confession of love. She felt like she could barely breathe. The way he confessed to her was exactly how she always pictured her true love confessing to her, and that made her nervous.
When it was clear that she wasn’t going to say anything, Gilbert stood up. “I’m really sorry, Anne. It was awful of me to say all of that. I shouldn’t have said everything that I wanted to say because it was probably too much. Now you’re not talking to me, and that’s probably because, either you really hate me, or you hate everything I just said.” He pulled at the sleeves of his coat as if he was trying to disappear into the material. “Can I at least walk you home?”
Anne looked up at Gilbert, and she felt a pang in her heart at the sight of him looking so distraught, thinking he had hurt her. Suddenly, a thought raced into her mind. The nervousness that she felt around him – the blushing, the racing heart – it wasn’t because she hated him. It was because she liked him. And while this seemed like a new revelation to her, she realized that she’d known her feelings for a while now, but just hadn’t wanted to admit them. She knew exactly what to tell him.
She stood up, brushing off her dress. “Gilbert,” she said, turning to face him. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate any of what you just said. In fact, I liked all of it. And, I like you, as much as I hate to admit it.”
A smile crept across Gilbert’s face, and Anne realized how close they were standing. “So…” he said. “You don’t hate me?”
Anne sighed. “No. I…I like you. I like everything about you.” She paused. “Well, almost everything.”
Gilbert grinned. “That’s good to know.”
Anne laughed softly. “Is it?”
“Yeah,” Gilbert nodded. “It is.”
They then settled into a comfortable silence, looking at each other. Both of their hearts were racing, wondering what they were to do now.
“Anne?”
“Gilbert.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Gilbert took a small step closer to Anne.
Anne smiled, looking down at the ground, then looking back up at Gilbert. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she replied, her voice almost a whisper.
And then Gilbert was leaning in, and so was Anne, and they kissed, quickly – so quickly that it might have never happened.
But it did.
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(i'm not a girl, i'm a boy! i mean--) I'm a Man
Peter swung towards the Tower, flipping and twirling as he did. He was giddy, he had had a great patrol-- stopped a jewelry store robbery, saved a group of teenagers from being mugged, broke up a drug trade, and stopped a drunk driver from crashing her car into the side of a city bus. All of this with practically no injuries! The only thing that may be considered to be an injury were some bruises that littered his torso, but those were normal and even to be expected. A lack of bruises meant he didn’t really accomplish anything, after all.
Something that did sort of hurt, however, was his chest. He felt out of breath, like his lungs weren’t able to expand enough to get the air in, and his ribs ached. Peter knew the reason behind why that part of his torso ached, though, and knew how to resolve said pain. It was simple enough in theory, but well… there were a few other factors that made the teen not want to, whether it was healthy or not. Still, it wasn’t like he could just leave it. It wasn’t serious now, but if he didn’t take care of it, it could be.
Peter landed on the wall of the Tower outside of his room, and after a moment, the window slid up and open for him to crawl on in. He did so, taking off his mask as he did, and plopping down onto his bed as the window closed for him. Part of him really did just want to take the huge, insanely soft bed back to Queens, but he knew it wouldn’t fit in his room. Though, Peter wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to get out of that bed in the morning for school, so perhaps it was good it was a weekend only thing. “Mister Stark, I’m back!” the teen shouted. Tony’s room was across the hall from him, so if he was there, he should be able to hear him. However, when Peter didn’t hear any response, he speaks again. “Hey FRIDAY, is Mister Stark in the lab or somethin’?”
“Yes, he is,” She answered. “Should I let him know you’re back?”
“Sure, thanks,” Peter yawned a little. “Can you let him know that I’m probably just gonna go to sleep now?”
“Of course,” There was a moment of silence. “He says to sleep well and he’ll see you in the morning.”
“Let him know that he needs to sleep too, and if he doesn’t, I’m telling Miss Potts.”
“Mister Stark says you and her are no longer allowed to hang out.”
To that, Peter just laughed a little. He felt like he could just fall asleep then and there, and he almost did until his phone started ringing. Who was trying to call him this late? It was almost midnight! If it was a telemarketer again, Peter thought he might just ram his head into a wall. Four telemarketers and scam artists had called him last night alone, and he was just going to give them his social security number so they’d just shut up and stop calling and waking him up already. With a groan, Peter sat up and removed his phone from the slim little pocket on the thigh of his suit he kept it in and saw his aunt’s face pop on up. May was in Seattle this weekend for a work conference, so it was only nine o’clock for her. She probably knew he was just getting back from patrol, given that midnight was his curfew on weekends, and called to check in on him.
With a little yawn, Peter answered the video call, holding the phone above him as far as his arm went, and was greeted with his aunt’s smiling face. She looked pretty tired and like she was back in her hotel. “Hey, Aunt May. How’s Seattle?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” May answered. “Pretty boring so far, though. This was all the business stuff today, and I’m ninety percent sure I got that promotion in the bag. The fun starts tomorrow!”
“That’s great!” He smiled. “And what’s fun for a nurses’ convention?”
“Oh, you know, sharing weird stories from work. Last year, there was a segment where one woman stood on stage and delivered nonstop medical puns for a solid ten minutes. You would’ve loved it.”
“If that happens again tomorrow, you gotta video it for me.”
“I promise I will. Enough ‘bout me though, how are you and Tony doing?”
“We’re good, having fun. I had a really good patrol tonight, too.”
“That’s always nice to hear,” she smiled, and then tried to scan over her nephew’s body for any signs of injuries. She could see a decent amount of his torso, and it didn’t look like anything was broken or bleeding. Still, something seemed off. His breathing looked a little too shallow. “Not hurt or anything, right?”
“Not hurt, but maybe a little bruised and out of breath.”
“Well, we can’t be sure if those bruises are from Spider-Man or not.”
“True, true.”
Peter still seemed to be having difficulty catching his breath, which was concerning for May. She narrowed her eyes a little as she tried to figure it out. Obviously, the teen noticed this, and got a little worried himself. “Uh, May? Is everything okay?” He asked, sitting up slowly.
“Are… Are you binding right now?”
Shit. Shit.
“Huh? Um, what’d you say? The sound sorta, uh, cut out.” Peter asked nervously, and said nerves were confirmation enough for May.
“I asked if you were binding right now,” She repeated, voice stern. Oh, she was going to kill him. “Which you know, would not be good at all since you just back from Spider-Man-ing. Because you’re not supposed to wear it while exerting yourself. Because you’re not supposed to wear it for more than eight hours, and if you put it on as soon as you woke up like usual, it would be at least twelve hours. Right, Peter?”
“Y-yeah, yeah that wouldn’t be good…” He rubbed the back of his neck a little.
“So, you’re going to take that damn thing off and show me it so I can be sure now, right?”
Peter nodded, muttering a few quick ‘yeah yeah’s and ‘sorry’s as he dropped his phone on the bed and stepped off to the side. He could practically hear his aunt fuming as he scrambled to get out of his Spider-Man suit and, after a moment of hesitation, his binder. He absolutely hated it whenever he had to take it off for the day, but he knew if he didn’t, his aunt would probably reach through his phone and strangle him with it herself. Understandably so, of course. Still, Pete despised the little sigh that came from him once the tight material was off of him. It made him feel like he was saying that he felt better without it, which obviously was an illogical worry because the stressed tissue was merely getting a break, but Peter was still bothered by it.
After quickly slipping on a baggy sweatshirt, a grey MIT one he may or may not be permanently borrowing from Tony and simple blue sweatpants with a single red stripe going down the side of the legs, Peter sat back down on his bed and picked up his phone. He kept one arm firmly crossed over his no longer flattened chest to try and give the appearance that it was flat and propped his phone up on a pillow. The teen held up a nude binder just about the same tone as his skin and then tossed it off to the side. “Okay, it’s off. See?”
“Are you okay>?” May asked concern pushing through her anger. “Is there any bruising or particular pain?”
“No, I’m okay,” Peter reassured, subconsciously feeling over his ribs to be sure.
”Are you sure?”
“Mhm, I swear.”
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Anger returned to May’s tone and expression, though it stemmed from worry and frustration. “How the hell are you so smart, but end up pulling shit like this? Binding while patrolling? You do know what the fuck you can do to yourself by keeping that shit up, right?”
“I-I know, but--”
“No, no you need to let me finish,” May interrupted. “So, what? Have you just been doing that this whole fucking time?” Peter gave a quick nod after a moment of hesitation, to which she groaned at and ran a hand down her face. “Peter, you promised me. You promised you wouldn’t do that! How the hell am I supposed to trust you to go out there at night if I can’t even trust you to do this one thing? I’ve been trying to save up so you can get surgery, you know that, but you’re going to screw up your chance of even being eligible for it! You understand that, right?”
He did, and Peter felt awful for betraying his aunt’s trust. Truly, not just because he got caught. He tried once after May found out about Spider-Man, but just putting the suit on without binding sent a wave of dysphoria absolutely crashing into him. It had felt so overwhelming, and that was the last time he’d tried that.
“I-I’m sorry, Aunt May, really. I am, but…” Peter looked down sheepishly, picking at the skin on his fingertips some. “Well, you can’t exactly call yourself Spider- Man if you don’t even look like one.”
May’s eyes turned soft and her postured eased from its previous angry tension. “Oh, Peter…” She spoke softly now, and he just wanted to hug the boy. He looked so defeated, and it hurt to see him like that. “I know it’s hard baby, I’m sorry. You know that that doesn’t matter though, right?”
“I know, but it doesn’t feel like it,” Peter sounded frustrated now, looking back at the little screen his aunt’s face was. “You can say it doesn’t matter and what matters is that I know how I feel and all that crap, but imagine what people will say if I go out there like that. You know the kind of things people say.” The Daily Bugle would have a field day with transgender Spider-Man-- the slander would probably be insane. Most times, Peter could have a laugh at all of that stuff said about him, but he wasn’t sure he could deal with that well. “Subtle” comments at school by people who knew or suspected were more than enough for him.
May ran her thumb over Peter’s cheek through the screen, wishing she could be there and just make everything all better for him. There wasn’t much she could do though, as sad as it was, but make him as comfortable as possible until he was able to be in his own body. She was still very much frustrated that he put himself at risk like that, she didn’t know what either of them would do if he damaged his ribs to the point he couldn’t get surgery, but she could understand the why. After a moment of silence between them, May broke it, “Hey, baby?” she waited a second for Peter to acknowledge her. “I think… I think it might be time to tell Tony about this.”
Peter furrowed his brows, not sure if May was joking or not. She must’ve been serious though, because her expression and voice were so genuine, and this would be a really weird time to crack a joke. “Wait, what? Why? I thought we talked about this before, and I said I didn’t want to.”
It wasn’t that Peter didn’t trust Tony with that part of him, he trusted the man a hundred percent. Peter just… well, he wanted to be just that. He just wanted to be Peter , not the kid who’s now Peter or anything like that. He wasn’t ashamed, per se, but he did wish he could’ve been born cis or have the ability to erase the memories of his female self from the minds of everyone who ever knew him like that. It was nice to just be Peter, and the boy would be lying if he said he wasn’t at all afraid at what Tony’s reaction might be.
Logically, yeah, it was unlikely he’d just be rejected, but there was always the possibility… that terrified him.
“I know, I know,” May nodded. They’d talked about it before a couple times-- sometimes Peter brought it up, sometimes she did-- but the last time they did was when they’d also been talking about Tony becoming one of his guardians after the school gave them trouble when he tried picking Peter up at school when he had the flu.
Obviously, the ability to pick him up wasn’t the only reason, but it was the deciding push. Of course, the two Parker’s spoke when he had left the room, and Peter decided he wasn’t ready or wanting to tell Tony.
“Then why do I need to tell him?” Peter asked. If May already knew how he felt about it, why was she bringing it up again?
“Well, first, to make sure you’re not hurting yourself and trying to get away with things when I’m not around.” May reasoned.
“But--”
“ Second ,” she continued, despite her nephew’s attempt to interrupt her. He had to have known she would’ve used that. “We both know how reckless you are, especially if you’re on patrol. If you’re hurt, god forbid, and he needs to take care of you, he’s gonna find out. I know you wouldn’t like it if he found out by himself, right?”
“Right…”
“I also know how you’ve been modifying your T shots because of your metabolism,” Of course she knew, how could she not? “And I think you need to make sure those are safe, too. You don’t want to risk getting male-patterned baldness, right?” There were far worse risks-- sleep apnea, high blood pressure, producing too many red blood cells, etc-- but May thought it might be a good idea to try and lighten the mood some.
“I refuse to start going bald before Mister Stark does.” Peter said, a light smile playing on his lips.
“Your hair’s too soft to lose, too.”
“It would be a tragedy.”
“Exactly,” May smiled. She paused before deciding to add one last point to her argument. “Plus, Tony’s pretty smart, so there’s a chance he might be able to create a safer way of binding so you could while Spider-Man-ing. I’m not gonna force you to tell him or tell him myself if you don’t, but I think it’s a good idea, baby.”
So, May basically had the best argument there was, and Peter knew it. In fact, he completely agreed with her-- it wasn’t hard to from a logical standpoint. Still, from the emotional one, Peter was still struggling to agree. It wasn’t exactly the best way to deal with problems, sure, but the teen just wanted to ignore this all and pretend like it never happened. Pretend like the trans thing never happened. He was trying so hard to forget it himself, and having to talk about it didn’t exactly help his cause.
“You’re right,” Peter sighed in reluctant agreement. “It’s just…”
“Scary?”
“Yeah. Scary.” Terrifying was more like it, but “scary” worked, too.
“I know, baby. I know,” May hummed, offering a reassuring smile. “You’re strong though, and I know you can do it.”
“Thanks,Aunt May.”
“Anytime. Now, it’s getting late for me, which means it’s very late for you. Get some sleep. M’kay?”
“I will,” Peter nodded, yawning as if on queue. “You do too. Sleep well.”
“You, too. Love you.”
“Love you too. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Mhm, promise. Goodnight, Pete.”
“G’night.”
Peter laid back on the large, soft bed after hanging, doing a little motorboat with his lips. He was going to tell Tony. Actually tell him this time and not chicken out. Wow… how was he supposed to do that?
When he came out to May and Ben, he was just a frustrated little kid. Frustrated with being called that name and told how he was such a pretty girl . Frustrated with having to use the girls’ bathroom and stand on the girls’ side of the line in school. He didn’t belong there, he was a boy and that’s what he said. Not only was he frustrated, but… Peter had also been scared. What was wrong with him? He had thought. Why was his body so…. Wrong ?
It was more or less and release of years worth of pent up emotions than a coming out, but it worked. And they had been working through it since. Although he’d never explicitly talked about it with any of his classmates from back then about it, now they still saw the shift, and he still went to school with some of these people. Some people knew, but he didn’t say it. Some people figured it out when gym teachers would give him a hard time about using the boys’ locker room or when teacher’s-- mostly substitutes-- would deadname him before he and May got it legally changed.
MJ had figured it out when she saw how he would still occasionally look over when he heard his deadname, even though nine times out of ten, it was just a girl that happened to have that name. At first, it was just a theory, but then he made a pun about it and that was her confirmation.
Ned found out when his family offered to take him to the beach one summer and he saw the nude binder under his wet shirt. There were a few questions, quiet yes and no answers, and that was it.
So basically, Peter hadn’t had what one might call a “proper” coming out. He never had the typical “hey, can we sit down and talk?” or “hey, can I tell you something?” . That didn’t make him any less of who he was, sure, but that typical coming out thing was basically what he was going to have to do when he told Tony.
Maybe he would do that tomorrow? Peter thought. Just to get it over and done with. Yeah… yeah. He could do that.
Peter sat up, breaking himself out of his nervous train of thought, and plugged his in on the charger on the bed’s side table. He asked FRIDAY to turn the lights off as he crawled under the covers, and thanks only to how comfortable the bed was, he was asleep in fifteen minutes. If it hadn’t felt like he was laying on a cloud, it was likely Peter would’ve been up for a good couple of hours stressing himself out, but that was just another one of the amazing aspects of this bed.
The teen woke up around nine-thirty that morning, light shining through his blinds. It might’ve been annoying to some people, but Peter liked waking up to the natural sunlight. He laid in bed for a good twenty minutes or so while scrolling on his phone before finally getting up to start his morning routine. He brushed his teeth, showered because of how sweaty he got on patrol last night, and put his binder on again underneath his pajamas.This one was one of his older, more worn out, and looser ones, so while he was still flat, it wasn’t as much pressure on his chest. Peter didn’t bother trying to style his hair, just letting the messy mop of curls dry naturally, and made his way out to the kitchen and media room.
Tony wasn’t awake yet, he had asked FRIDAY and wasn’t going to dare to wake him when he was actually getting sleep, so Peter entertained himself. He made himself some toast, had a granola bar, and made a little bowl of strawberries and grapes to satisfy himself until the man woke up and they could have breakfast together. He also got a pot of coffee all ready, knowing Tony would be wanting some when he woke up, and the only thing needed would be to press start. Sure, FRIDAY could probably do most of what he did, but Peter was used to getting some ready for May on weekends. Besides, he liked helping out.
Plopping himself down on the couch in the media room, Peter put on old Phineas and Ferb reruns-- because why not? That show was hilarious-- and ate his food whilst pondering how the hell he was gonna be going about this whole thing.
First step: figuring out when a good time would be.
Well, Tony was most likely going to be asking him about how patrol went last night and now May was, as always, so that might work. He had to ease into it though, not be so blunt about it. This was delicate, but for himself. Truth be told, Peter didn’t exactly like saying “I’m transgender” flat out, because it made him feel… different.
He hated feeling different.
He was already different because he didn’t have his parents. He was already different because of his intellect. He was already different because of his powers.
Peter didn’t need any more feelings of being on the outside of everyone else.
Second step: figuring out how to phrase it.
Maybe, Peter thought, vaguely mention his binder? Did Tony know what a binder was? Would he understand what he was trying to say? God, there were so many variables to think about and try to account for. Alright, so he would hope that Tony would understand what he was trying to say-- that what Plan A. Plan B? Hm… maybe he would attempt to imply that naturally, his chest wasn’t flat, and so he did that. Not much different from Plan A, sure, but it might work. As May said last night, Tony was a smart guy. Plan C would be the last resort-- Plan C would be flat out and blunt.
Peter really, really didn’t like Plan C. Hopefully, it didn’t come to that.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t chicken out.
“‘Mornin’, kid,” A tired, gruff voice greeted. Tony walked over to where the boy sat on the sofa and ruffled the messy head of curls, then headed into the kitchen. Peter had been so caught up in his planning that he hadn’t even heard him walk in. “Sleep well?”
“Mhm,” Peter nodded, looking over his shoulder to look at his mentor-- father figure? Nope, stop thinking like that, Parker-- who truly did look like he just woke up. “How ‘bout you?” It seemed like FRIDAY had started up the coffee maker when Tony woke up, because the pot was already nearly full. Yet another thing he hadn’t noticed while lost in thought.
“Well enough, well enough,” Tony said with a yawn. He leaned on the counter besides where the coffee was being brewed, waiting for it to finish up. He had a simple Stark Industries mug already at the ready, which Peter found funny as he brought his empty plate of toast and equally empty bowl in to put in the dishwasher. He threw out the granola bar wrapper whilst in there, too. “What time did you get up? Hope I haven’t left ya by yourself too long.”
“‘Round nine-thirty,” Peter shrugged. It was a quarter after ten now, so not much time had passed.
“Aren’t teenagers s’pposed to sleep in until, like, noon? I should be up before you with breakfast ready.”
“Hey, that’s late for me,” Peter defended himself. Tony groaned. “You can ask May, I’ve been an early riser since I was little.”
“If you didn’t threaten me with Pepper, I could’ve been up before you.” Tony pointed out.
“That doesn’t count ‘cause you wouldn’t be waking up before me, you'd still be awake.”
“Hey, don’t call me out before I’ve had my coffee. I can throw you out of here down the elevator shaft.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Peter smiled, playfully nudging Tony’s side. “Aunt May would personally… I don’t know, steal the tendons in your right arm or something in your sleep.”
Tony raised his brows, “Kid, that’s a horrifying thought. I don’t doubt the likelihood, but now I’m terrified to breathe in the wrong direction of your aunt.”
“So am I, honestly,” Peter nodded.
“You’ve at least got those awful puppy eyes to soften the blows,” The coffee maker dinged and Tony poured himself a cup. “I’ve got nothin’.”
“Keep me alive, and I’ll defend you.”
“Hm… we’ll see,” Tony smirked as he sipped his coffee. “Now, what do you want for breakfast, Underoos?”
The two boys worked together in the kitchen like they did in the lab-- with great rhythm. FRIDAY played some calm Italian music that Tony hummed along to, since rock was for the labs, as they cooked. They were making pancakes and omelettes, Peter working on the former and Tony the latter. The teen liked adding a bunch of chocolate chips in the batter, and since Tony never “added enough”, it was his job. Tony would’ve done the whole breakfast thing himself, because he was the adult, but making enough food to satisfy an enhanced spider-metabolism was a lot of work for two people, let alone just one.
Roughly twenty five minutes later, the two had acquired about twelve omelettes and ten pancakes. Two omelettes and one pancake were for Tony and the rest went to his favorite spider-kid. It was a lot, yes, but if his math was correct, this perfectly covered what his metabolism needed. The two sat at the kitchen island with their plates-- or in Peter’s case, mountain-- of food, Tony with his second cup of coffee and Peter with a glass of apple juice. They put on Family Feud, calling out what they think the answers are in between bites. It was their routine, and it was comfortably simple. Domestic.
Perfect.
“So, kid,” Tony sipped his drink after taking a bite of his omelette. “Didn’t get any alerts that Queens blew up over night. You do some good?”
Alright, here we go, Peter thought. Time to go with Plan A.
“Um,” he swallowed a mouthful of pancake. “Yeah, yeah it was good.”
“Kid, you got a little-- you know what..” Tony took a napkin to the corner of Peter’s mouth, who scrunched his nose and tried to pull away.
“Mister Stark!” Peter whined.
“You had a bunch of chocolate and syrup there. What was I supposed to do? Let you be messy?”
“I could easily wipe my own mouth. I’m sixteen, y’know.”
“It’s easier this way, because you would’ve either smeared it across your face or rub that napkin everywhere except the spot,” Tony pointed out. “Now, Spider-Man. What do you have to report?”
“Well, I stopped a jewelry store robbery,” Peter began. “Saved a group of kids that looked my age from being mugged. Oh, I also broke up a little drug trade, and stopped a drunk driver from crashing her car into the side of a city bus.”
“Bare hands?”
“Bare hands.”
“Atta boy,” Tony smiled, raising his hand for a high five. Peter did so, and even as they lowered their hands, the smile remained. Sure, part of him was always nervous about his kid-- the kid, not his kid-- being out there with people who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him, but Pete was doing good out of the pureness of his heart, and Tony was really proud of him. “Not hurt worse than a scraped knee, right?”
“No, just bruised,” Peter reassured.
Tony gave him a look. “Hey FRI, mind confirming that?”
“Mister Parker is telling the truth, Boss.”
Tony turned back to Pete, “Well, sorry for doubting you. You understand why though, right?”
“Mhm, yeah. I get it, don’t worry,” Now’s the time, go! You’re going to miss your opportunity, Parker! “I, uh, I did almost get hurt though.”
“Oh?” Tony raised a brow. “And how’d that happen?”
“Well…” Peter took a deep breath, which only brought forth more concern to the older man’s expression. “So, you know how I’m an idiot and do stuff I shouldn’t a lot?”
“Mhm, all too well. What’d you do?”
Breathe. Breathing is important. You can’t come out if you pass out from like of oxygen flow to the brain, Peter thought.
“Okay, okay. So… there’s this thing I wear-- around my chest under shirts and stuff.” Peter fidgeted nervously, picking at the skin around his fingers-- a nervous tick Tony recognized well. He stayed quiet though, letting Peter continue. “Well, ‘m not really s’pposed to wear it for more than eight hours, right? Yesterday, I, uh… I kinda had it on for like seventeen hours. I also shouldn’t, um, do physically exerting stuff with it on, and I didn’t take it off for patrol. I-I know it’s bad, May already ripped me a new one ‘cause of it, but…” He paused, sighing quietly. “I just… I need it.”
Tony stayed silent for a moment, very uncharastic of him, and his expression was unreadable. Even if it was less than thirty seconds, to Peter, it felt like hours. Waiting for the reaction-- that was the worst part. Peter had thought the worst part was getting the words out for a while, but oh how he was wrong. So very, very wrong.
Peter felt like his chest was about to pound right out of his chest and that the walls were closing in on him. This was a bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea--
“Kid, hey,” Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Breathe, okay? Don’t pass out on me, it’s alright. You’re alright.”
“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” Peter apologized, following Tony’s breathing patterns. “Just… yeah. That’s my story.”
“Does that thing around your chest happen to be… a binder?”
Peter nodded-- Plan A worked. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of panic and that rejection was just looming over him.
“And you’re freaking out because you think I’m going to freak out because you’re--”
“Mhm,” Peter cut him off. Tony was going to comment on it, but decided that wasn’t important right now. What was important was that Peter took a huge fucking risk that could’ve gotten him seriously hurt.
“Kid, Pete,” Tony squeezed his shoulder gently. “It’s okay, I don’t care about that. You’re still you, and you’re still my fucking stupid kid. Understand that?”
“Right,” Peter cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, I get why you were nervous.” Tony paused. “I mean, I don’t completely understand since I haven’t had the experience and I don’t want to belittle your’s, but I understand the concept.”
Was the right thing to say? God, Tony hoped it was. He wasn’t exactly prepared for this, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Peter knew that nothing was different between them and that he accepted him. That was crucial. So, Tony turned and pulled the kid into a hug, gently massaging the back of his head.
“I’m not gonna lecture you about how stupid you are,” Tony said softly, relieved that Pete was returning the hug. “Because May covered that already. So help me though, if you break any of those binding rules again, it’ll be me you have to deal with. You don’t want that.” He paused again. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”
Any nerves and tension melted from Peter’s muscles as he was hugged, nodding some. “‘Course I do, Mister Stark. I trust you as much as May. I, uh, was gonna tell you before, but I was nervous and… I didn’t want you to think any different of me.”
“I don’t, I promise.” Never, not in a billion years, would Tony care for Peter any less because of something like this. Transgender or cisgender, this was still his Peter. His wonderful, crazy smart, crazy stupid, Peter.
“Thanks…”
“Of course, kiddo.” Tony pulled back , though he kept his hands on his shoulders. “Alright, why don’t we finish up breakfast, get this all cleaned up, and head down to the lab, yeah? I’m thinking we make our own binder for you that’s safer. I’m already planning it in my head, so don’t try and stop me.”
Peter smiled, “Y’know, Aunt May said you would say that.”
“She did, huh?” He couldn’t help but smile back at the kid. “What else did she say?”
“Well, she thought maybe you could… help me with my hormone shots? I, um, take testosterone shots every week, but I’ve kinda screwed with the formula so that way stuff actually happens. Y’know, spider metabolism and all.”
“Yeah, we can do that,” Tony nodded. “I’m gonna need you to help me with some of this though, ‘kay, kid? I’m horribly uneducated on this stuff, but don’t worry, I’ll do my homework.”
Peter couldn’t help but smile more at that. He had nothing to worry about, like May had said. Everything was fine. “Mhm, ‘course. Just, thanks again for being so cool ‘bout everything.”
“Of course, kiddo.” Tony paused. Does he say it? Fuck it, he should say it. “I love you, hope you know that.”
“Love you too, Mister Stark.”
_____
(NOTE: I couldn't get the formatting on my device, so here's the AO3 link where it looks nicer https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830545 )
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pocketsunshineharry · 3 years ago
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⚜ You're cold and I burn by styles_allure Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn (77k)
Louis' love for pretty colors and aesthetics, paired with his immense passion for painting beautiful flowers has stars in his eyes and thoughts of a successful career.
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[Or the fic where louis is in uni and hates spinach, and harry is a closeted popstar who doesn't understand why the green leaves are so evil]
⚜ We're Like Bumper Cars by sincehewaseighteen  Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Cross Country (31k)
“I have won, I won the final cross country. I win, Harry--”
 “Whoever gets to fucking nationals wins it, pretty boy,” Harry teases. “You haven’t won. Interhouse is nothing compared to nationals, or interstate. You haven’t even won interschool. You can dream all you fucking want that you’ve won.”
 Louis becomes so ignorant he decides to no longer eye the boy taunting him. “Trophies prove it all, Styles.”
 “Where’s your trophy for biggest asshole?”
 “Where’s yours for winning cross country?”
 Harry growls before hooking his fingers in Louis’ belt loops and bringing them together for a flat kiss.
Or the AU where Louis and Harry are rivals of the century and Cross Country competitors before things get complicated and they play pretend.
⚜ Anything you ask and more by orphan_account (19k)
Louis knows that he's in love the second Harry begins speaking about the bolsheviks.
(or, Louis is a history teacher & Harry is the fit curator that he desperately wants to mongol invade him, however many times Niall tells him he's a psychopath.)
⚜ But Please, Don't Bite by shyserious A/B/O, Angst with happy Ending (122k)
"Melodic little jingle sounded from a bell hanging over the doorframe and warm indoor air curled heavily around his shivering body for the first time in months. Harry suddenly felt a sting in the corners of his eyes and had to force down a broken sob. Fuck, he was a mess. Such a mess. He had to focus."
Part 1 of But Please, Don't Bite
- ̗̀  Please don’t forget to leave a comment and/or a kudo to the authors!  ̖́-
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owlswithfins · 2 years ago
hey, if you’re still taking requests, could we please have some drarry where Draco constantly misidentifies the signals of his crush and a frustrated (but well meaning) pansy helps him figure it out?
I just found request this deep within the recesses of my ask box from who knows when, so anon probably gave up on me long ago, but hopefully someone finds joy in this little fic Read it on AO3]
The snickering was the first hint that something was off.
“Hey, Potter,” Draco sneered, tossing a ball of paper at the back of his head. “Did you let that oaf Hagrid do your hair, or was it cursed that way?”
Potter glanced up from the Potions assignment he was scowling at. “Maybe I just have more important things to worry about than my hair. Apparently, you don’t. Or do you just like ogling me from across the room?”
The class broke into laughter, but before Draco could respond, Professor Slughorn silenced them to start the lesson. Draco felt his face go red when he noticed the way students would periodically look back at him and giggle.
After class, he whined to Pansy, “Was it something I said?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out sooner or later.” Then she tilted her head to the side. “Or maybe not. Let’s just give it some time, shall we?” With that, she led him to the common room. Draco glared at everyone they passed along the way.
The second hint was the sympathy. Or rather, the pity.
“Is it just me, or has Potter been even more inept than usual?” Draco was lying on the couch in Slytherin, staring up at the ceiling. His feet were in Blaise’s lap and his hands in Pansy’s hair while she sat on the floor beside him. “He nearly killed Weasley yesterday with his botched potion.”
Blaise gave him a sad pat on the thigh. Draco lifted his head to send him a puzzled expression. “He would have been doing us all a favor,” Draco added, in case the comfort was in response to Weasley’s potential death. Blaise just shook his head regretfully, and Pansy gave a long-suffering sigh. Draco narrowed his eyes at them both.
The final straw was when Potter started acting strangely, too.
“Hello, Potter,” Draco said, sauntering up to the Gryffindor. “Where are your adoring fans? Finally got tired of the Chosen One?”
Potter’s eyes were glazed over like he was in deep thought, but they cleared when Draco spoke. “Hey, Malfoy.”
Draco blinked. “That’s all you have to say?”
Potter shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. Can we do this later?”
Draco’s mouth opened and closed. “Er, I suppose so.”
Potter gave him a small smile and walked off, already lost in his own head again. Draco gaped. He was beginning to wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him–or perhaps it was everyone else who’d gone mad. In either case, there was only one thing left to do.
Draco found Pansy in the Slytherin Common Room. Her eyes flashed with panic when they met his, but he dragged her up to his dormitory and crossed his arms. The fact that she was dreading this conversation only made him more adamant that now was the time to have it. “Spill.”
She feigned innocence. “About what, Draco?”
“You know what. Everyone’s gone bonkers for some reason. When I make fun of Potter, everyone laughs at me, and when I insult him, you and Blaise look at me like I’m suffering from a blood curse. Now even Potter’s acting strange!”
Pansy winced. “Potter knows too? I was hoping he was just as oblivious as you are.”
“Knows what ?” Draco screeched.
Pansy paused, considering how best to proceed. “Draco, what color are Potter’s eyes?”
“Green,” he said immediately. Everyone knew what color Potter’s eyes were. They were the most startling emerald Draco had ever seen–would be even more if he didn’t have those hideous glasses.
“What color are Daphne’s eyes?”
Draco thought back on it. “Er…hazel?”
“Wrong. How about Potter’s favorite dessert?”
“Treacle tart.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Pans, I really don’t see what any of this has got to do with the problem at hand.”
She held up a finger. “What’s Blaise’s favorite dessert?”
Draco’s brows furrowed. “Pudding?”
“Wrong again.”
“So I’m a shitty friend. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Pansy just raised her brows. “What’s Potter’s second hour class?”
“Transfiguration,” he answered impatiently. He was rapidly tiring of this game.
Pansy threw her hands in the air. “You don’t even have Transfiguration with him! How in Merlin’s name do you know that?”
“I follow him around sometimes,” Draco said defensively. “Keep your enemies close and all that.”
Pansy pointed accusingly. “That. That right there is your problem.”
“The stalking thing? Because we’ve been over this, Pansy. He can’t be the perfect Golden Boy all the time. It’s up to me to catch him when he makes a mistake.”
Pansy groaned and collapsed on the bed. “No, not that, although I’m still pretty sure that’s not your responsibility. What I meant was, you keep him too close.”
Draco scoffed. “Know thy enemy is practically the golden rule of Slytherin, Pans.”
“What exactly do you gain from knowing his favorite dessert, Draco?”
Draco stood up straighter. “What if I want to poison him?”
“But you haven’t poisoned him,” Pansy said as patiently as she could manage. “Or hurt him much at all really. You just follow him around, and try to get his attention, and pin him against walls for fuck’s sake. Not to mention you talk about him literally all the time.”
“I still don’t see where this is going.”
Pansy took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that it seems like you don’t hate him nearly as much as you say you do.” She looked sharply at Draco when he opened his mouth to protest. “Let me finish–and don’t you dare hex me, because you asked for this.” She placed a pillow between them like a shield just in case.
Before she could enlighten him, however, Draco said, “Holy Salazar. You lot think I’ve got a bloody crush on him!”
Pansy opened her eyes, relieved that he’d been the one to say it. “Finally,” she muttered.
Draco, on the other hand, wasn’t at all pleased with this turn of events. “What the actual fuck, Pansy?!?!?” He started pacing the room, a crazed look in his eye. “A crush??? On Potter???”
“Draco, stop freaking out and just think about it for a second.”
Draco looked at her like she’d asked him to voluntarily walk into Fiendfyre. “Pansy, don’t be ridiculous–”
“Draco, just do it.” He stubbornly ignored her. “If we’re wrong, then you have nothing to lose.” He heard the unspoken message in her words–if they were wrong, it was no problem at all…but if they were right? He was totally and unequivocally fucked.
Never one to back down from a challenge, however, he stopped pacing and did as he was told. After a few moments, he paled. “Dear Merlin, you’re right.” He dropped onto the bed beside Pansy, staring at the ground but not seeing anything. “Holy fuck, you’re right. How did I not realize it before? Why didn’t you tell me???”
Pansy shrugged helplessly. “We all hoped you’d figure it out on your own.”
“All?!?! That’s what all the snickering was about? And the pitying looks? You’ve all known all along, and no one told me???”
“Um, yes?”
Draco wanted to curse someone, or perhaps get another hippogriff sentenced to death. He wouldn’t have even minded being the one to execute it. Instead, his brows furrowed, and he looked almost sane for a moment. “So that explains the first two problems…but what about Potter?”
Pansy’s sat up on the bed, intrigued. “When you said he was acting strangely, I thought you meant he was in on it too. I take it that’s not the case?”
Draco frowned. “I don’t think so. He was distracted. Like he had more important things to do than fight with me. And then–I might have imagined it, but I could have sworn he smiled. What is that supposed to mean?”
Pansy shook her head slowly. “I have no idea. You could try talking to him?”
“No…” Draco said slowly, thinking to himself. “No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.” He perked up a bit. “I’ll just follow him until I figure out what’s been on his mind.”
Pansy sighed, face dropping into her palm. “Perfect.”
Potter was walking to the Gryffindor Common Room with Granger when Draco spotted him. Careful to keep his footsteps light, he followed about twenty paces behind. He’d gotten good at moving silently over the years, but he made sure to walk in step with Potter just in case. When the Gryffindors stopped in the middle of the corridor, Draco ducked into the nearest alcove.
“I don’t know, ‘Mione.” Potter ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is this is a lot to take in. What’s Ginny going to think?” When Granger didn’t respond, Potter stared at her. “She knew too? She’s my girlfriend! You’d think she’d have the decency to tell me I’m…that I’m…” He trailed off, looking desperate, breathless, and slightly ill.
“Gay?” Granger offered quietly. Draco held his breath, waiting for Potter to deny it–to tell Granger off for such a ridiculous accusation.
But Potter merely deflated. “Yeah.” He scuffed the stone floor with his shoe. “I just wish someone had told me.”
“That’s really the sort of thing you’re supposed to figure out on your own.”
Draco scowled at the accidental insult to his own deductive skills. Potter laughed. “Yeah, well I’ve never been very good at doing things on my own.” He sobered and gave her a look full of so much emotion that Draco felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn’t. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Hermione.”
Draco tried to slip away, but his robe got caught on the suit of armor beside him, and the metal came crashing to the ground. “Shit.” He was still out of view, so he hoped beyond hope that Potter and Granger just ignored it and went on their merry way. When he heard footsteps, he cursed his rotten luck and recovered as best he could, straightening his spine and dusting off his robes.
“Malfoy?” Potter said, brows scrunched up behind his glasses.
“Hello, Potter. Fancy seeing you here.” Draco knew he must have been blushing bright red, but he kept his features expressionless.
Potter eyed him carefully before turning and making a dismissive gesture. Draco realized he was telling Granger to shoo. There was a pause and then the sound of her footsteps receding. They were alone.
“So did you sort out whatever was distracting you?” Draco asked with forced nonchalance. “I can’t be bothered to waste my energy insulting someone who won’t give me the time of day.”
Potter’s lips quirked up, and it took everything in Draco not to faint right there. How had he not realized how bloody attractive Potter was when he smiled? He supposed Potter didn’t give him many smiles. Merlin, did he want that to change. “You know, I think I did,” Potter replied, sounding certain of himself. “It took a while, but now…” He shrugged. “I’m all yours.”
Draco stared at him, the words not making sense in his brain.
“Malfoy? This is the point when you’re supposed to insult me–”
Draco clearly disagreed, because his lips were on Potter’s and his hands were wrapped up in his robes and then Potter was kissing him back and holy fucking Merlin, everyone was right. Why on earth had they been fighting all these years when they could have been doing this?
After a few moments, they broke apart, staring at each other in shock.
“Did we just–”
“Yeah.”
“That was–”
“I know.”
“Can we–”
“Merlin, yes.”
And then they were kissing again. When they separated this time, Potter leaned against the wall to catch his breath. As he did, his eyes narrowed. “Malfoy, were you spying on me?” Draco gave him his best ‘really-Potter-that’s-what-you’re-thinking-about?’ look. Potter sighed. “So you heard how literally everyone figured out I was gay before I did?”
“Not everyone,” Draco offered. “I didn’t know until just now.” He glanced at the floor awkwardly. “And er, Pansy gave me the same talk about half an hour ago.”
Potter looked at him in surprise and then burst into laughter. “Blimey, we really are oblivious, aren’t we?”
Draco cracked up. “I suppose so. It turned out alright in the end, though, didn’t it?”
Potter smiled one of those heartstopping smiles and held out his hand. “Yes, it did.”
Draco stared at it for a moment, thinking back to the extended hand that started it all, before intertwining their fingers. Warmth flowed up from the contact. He fought off a smile.
They were about halfway down the corridor when Draco turned to look at Potter. “Aren’t you still dating the Weaslette?”
Potter tilted his head. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have her blessing. I’ll talk to her though–just as soon as I write Hermione a thank you note.” Glancing up at Draco, he added, “And maybe Parkinson too.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Dear Granger, Whatever can I do to repay your kindness? Your efforts to explain to Potter that he’s secretly in love with me led to some spectacular snogging that I will never forget. Sincerely, Draco.”
Harry grinned. “Dear Parkinson, I am forever indebted to you for helping Malfoy see how bloody perfect we are for each other. Thanks for everything, Harry.”
“Dear Pansy, thank you for ending our frankly ridiculous cycle of blockheadedness. We will think of you fondly every time we shag. Yours truly, Draco.”
“Dear Hermione, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me–particularly the time when you pointed out how fucking gay I am for Malfoy. That was very considerate of you. Harry.”
Draco spun in front of Potter, stopping them both in their tracks. “Now that all that planning is out of the way…”
The Gryffindor grinned and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, brushing their lips together softly. “Is this what you had in mind?”
Draco smirked, loosening Potter’s tie and pushing him into the nearest empty classroom. “Something like that.”
x*x*X*x*x
Hope ya liked it! Read it on AO3 here :)
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