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gallavictorious · 3 years

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What staple fics of the fandom would you recommend for someone just starting to read gallavich fic?

Hiya there, nonnie – and welcome to the glorious world of Gallavich fic, if you're new to it!

On the one hand, I'm very much the wrong person to ask because staple fics tend to be AU:s and that's not really my cup of tea. On the other hand, I am a librarian, so never let it be said I balk at giving recommendations about stuff I haven't actually read or isn't necessarily to my personal liking. 😉

To make this list, I sorted Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich fics by bookmarks on AO3 and selected the first ten that I've either seen talked about a lot or have had at least a look at myself. This is admittely not a great way to curate a rec list, so for better and more initiated recommendations, maybe check in with the the amazing ladies of @gallavichfanficlibrary? They'll have you covered! If anyone else feels like chiming in with fandom classics for nonnie, I'm sure they'd be grateful. 🙂

Sexual Harassment in the Workplace by shamlessquestions

AO3 Summary: Mickey just needs to keep his head down and stay out of trouble at his new job. Still trouble always manages to find him and when it takes the form of his red haired boss, Mickey's not sure he can resist even if he wanted to.

Comment: The Gallvich fic with the most bookmarks and the most kudos on AO3. You’ll hear this one mentioned a lot! Fair bit of explicit sex scenes.

The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Ian Gallagher by shamlessquestions

AO3 Summary: "It's fuck all about heat or chemistry or any such shit, Gallagher. You and me...it's just a thing that cannot happen. The sooner we both accept that, the better off we'll be."

Comment: Mickey's the right hand man of a Chicago mobster. Club dancer (and college student) Ian starts ”dating” said mobster. Gallavich sparks fly. High stakes and quite a bit of action in this one. Explicit sex scenes.

Take Me In by MintSauce

AO3 Summary: Mickey's Dad finds out about Mickey being gay and even though Ian's not there, but he finds the Gallaghers are still willing to take Mickey in.

Comment: If you enjoy Mickey becoming friends with all the Gallaghers and bettering himself/beginning to heal from the abuse at Terry's hands, this might work for you. Heavy focus on Mickey, as Ian isn't actually there for most of the fic (though he's never far from Mickey's thoughts).

Like Real People Do by grayola

AO3 Summary: At the age of 26, Mickey Milkovich gets his first apartment, his first wifi connection, and his first kiss. How he gets from wifi to kissing is a complicated story. Mickey is socially anxious. Ian is a frustratingly lovable escort working through an app. Mickey downloads said app. The rest is history.

Comment: Fan favourite from last year. Very soft. Not a lot of plot, just Ian and Mickey falling very, very deeply in love (and dealing with their mental health issues in a lowkey, everyday sort of way). Heavy use of texts and messaging, making for something of an old-school fic feel. Explicit. A companion piece, told from Ian's POV is currently being published: Everything About You.

eighty-four by kissteethstainedred

AO3 Summary: “I slept with Mickey Milkovich last night,” Ian whispers.

“So?”

“So—” Ian stares at his phone for a second. “I slept with Mandy’s fucking brother.”

“Ian, what do you want me to say? Congratulations? You’ve been dating Mickey for almost a year,” Lip says, sounding confused as fuck. Ian blinks. That can’t be right. Ian’s only seen Mickey in pictures with Mandy. He’s never even met the fucking guy. How can he be dating him?

Comment: College fic. Time loop, so great if you’re a fan of that! Mandy plays a prominent role. At 13k words this one is way shorter than any other fic on this list.

Our Stubborn Love by TheWaywardBride

AO3 Summary: In which, after years of being separated by more than just prison walls, Ian and Mickey try to find their way back to each other.

Comment: Canon-divergent slow burn told from a bunch of different POV:s. Something of an ensemble piece, although Ian and Mickey are the focus. Doesn't shy away from Ian being in a very bad place post-5x12.

None the Wiser by loftec

AO3 Summary: AU. Slow burn. The real time accounts of Ian visiting Mickey's dingy diner and slowly becoming his friend.

Comment: WIP, with irregular but still happening updates. Domestic, with strong focus on the character's emotional lives. Mickey's a father to Yev, even though him and Svet are long since divorced. They're not kidding about the slow burn.

This is the Road To Ruin by bricoleur10

AO3 Summary: The day Ned asks Ian to rob his house the redhead almost says yes – why shouldn’t he, after all? Ned seems nonchalant enough about the whole thing, he’ll get some free expensive shit out of the deal, and if he plays his cards right maybe he can even convince Mickey to be his accomplice – but something stops him from going through with it.

The third-eldest Gallagher has never been much of a believer in fate or divine intervention or destiny or anything like that – can’t be, with the life he’s led – but he just might have become one, had he only known how that one seemingly insignificant decision had changed the course of his entire life.

Comment: Straight up canon divergence, capturing the early season Gallavich feels before hurtling down the road not taken. Some angst, but with a happy ending. Mandy and Lip play prominent parts.

Cooperative Gameplay by grayola

AO3 Summary: At nineteen years old, Ian Gallagher’s stuck. Stuck in a minimum-wage job he hates. Stuck in the same boring routine--sleep, wake, work, take your meds, Ian!, try not to lose it day after day after day. But after his little brother introduces him to MICK MILK, a frustratingly hot horror gamer he watches on YouTube, Ian's life will never be the same. ♥️

Comment: WIP (but with regular updates). Darker than Like Real People Do, but with a similarly emotional focus. Depicts online fandom on Twitter and Instagram in a rather knowing way. Explicit sex scenes. This fic, and these versions of Ian and Mickey, currently has its own fandom.

The Boyfriend Experience by anomalously

AO3 Summary: The Prompt: Ian: sex worker (male escort, explicit videos: stripping, masturbation, etc) Mickey: client who's an avid fan who gets up the courage to hire ian for "the boyfriend experience" I saw a porn star who said she only sleeps with 1 client & it inspired me.

Comment: WIP, last updated in 2017. Commonly held to be worth reading in spite of not being finished. Quite a bit of explicit sex, occasionally with a bit of BDSM thrown in.

#i hope this is helpful nonnie #i did my best #and wish you the happiest of reading <3 #fic recs #asks

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60schickgroovy · 3 years

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Game: Name your top 5 songs from movie soundtracks! Then tag 10 people!! Have fun!

1.) ‘Septimus’ from Stardust

2.) ‘He’s a Pirate’ from The Pirates of the Caribbean

3.) ‘The Shire Theme’ from the Lord of the Rings

4.) ‘The Parting Glass’ from Waking Ned Divine

5.) ‘Ghostbusters Theme’ from Ghostbusters

@vintagecherrypop @amalthea9 @jdarcy25 @peterssunnygirlfriend @thepoorlywritten @honeypieeee2 @yerjigsawpuzzleblues @littledarkshell @georgesdarkhorse @grace-theft-autumn

#the monkees #peter tork #mike nesmith #davy jones #micky dolenz #movies #soundtrack #favorite #love #fun #game

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boneandfur · 3 years

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Marry in Haste

tag list: @darley1101 @ritachacha @debramcg1106 @indiacater @thatcatlady0716 @enmchoices @breaumonts @walkerismychoice @princess-geek

CHAPTER NINE; pt 2

Marlcaster rounds on the track that will take him to Edgewater. He's changed horses twice, once at Wraxton's and once at the stagecoach inn in Grovershire. Give me your fastest steed, he'd commanded. Tell your master I will make it up to him at the gaming tables.

The astounded grooms had complied without a word of argument, perhaps it was that they knew better, or perhaps it was the look in Ned Marlcaster's eyes that made them swallow their impertinence.

Dita... Edgewater. Her name in every beat of his heart, in every clop of the hooves. His leg mostly healed now, the doctor had said he might put weight on it, astounded that the fever did not carry him off.

He nearly careens into a smart coach rounding the corner. The colors on the crest. Sinclaire's. Marlcaster draws up short. A sense of terrible unease comes upon him.

The curtain in the coach lifts up, and Lady Felicity Sinclaire, mistress of Ledford Park, sits there with a painted fan over the lower part of her face. Her eyes are steady, intense. There is a message in them that rattles him straight to the bone; he does not dare divine it.

The fan snaps shut, showing a single peacock quill, and Felicity raps on the side of the coach, the curtain falling back as the coach rattles onwards along the dusty track towards London Town.

Edmund Marlcaster sits up straight on his horse, suddenly feeling the pain of his breakneck ride in his thighs and lower back. His leg throbs abominably. The airy breeze lifts the smell of the hedgerows to his nostrils: eglantine and hawthorn blossoms, clinging on to the last of May.

As the sun begins to set, if he squints, he can just see the outline of the estate in the distance.

Looking back at the coach kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake, Marlcaster sets his mouth in a line and makes his decision.

•••

The door slammed open and Ernest, to his credit, did not blink, though his hand went to his sword pommel. As if he is expecting this.

I was expecting my husband, come to confront my lover, but instead it was far, far worse.

My lover's wife stood in the doorway, the dust from the road still on the hem of her pelisse. She wrinkled her nose, taking in the two of us, disheveled on the chaise. "Mr Sinclaire."

Sinclaire jumped to his feet, stammering like a schoolboy, color high on his cheeks. "Felici -- wife!"

Felicity stepped into the room, cloak falling back to reveal her belly. I felt as though all the air had been sucked out of my lungs, and stared upon the truth of her pregnancy in wild disbelief.

Not her -- he swore his cock rises only for me! But here was the proof of that lie, staring me straight in the face. I got unsteadily to my feet, feeling the stickiness between my thighs like cold betrayal.

"Mr Marlcaster rides hell for leather toward Edgewater this morn," Felicity said crisply, her words breaking like sharp glass in the sudden stillness of the room. When Sinclaire opened his mouth, the look in Felicity's eyes shut it again. She pivoted, placing herself between me and her husband. "And my father told me I must not make my son an orphan before he ever knew his father." Her mouth twisted. "He will be disappointed in my choice. I know I was."

Sinclaire blanched. "My god, Felicity," he croaked, tugging at his cravat. "Must you drag me through the muck in every drawing room you step into uninvited?"

"Uninvited?" Her eyes blazed, and she drew in a breath to retort, but I grabbed her arm, turning her to face me.

"Ned! Riding for Edgewater! Whatever can you mean?"

"I saw him on the road, changing out his horse for another at that stagecoach inn in Grovershire." Felicity snapped her fan open, and closed it again. Sinclaire began to pull on his riding boots behind her, not meeting my eye. "As soon as I reached the crossroads, I saw him again, and I knew something was afoot, so I bade the driver turn the coach around. It seems my hunch was right." She took a deep breath, resting one hand on the treacherous swell of her abdomen. "Telling you to leave my husband alone has never worked, and nothing will make him quit of you, it seems. But I'll not have him die today, Lady Perdita, not if I can help it." She turned back to Sinclaire, and he smiled placatingly, resting a hand upon her shoulder for the briefest of moments -- but it was enough to tell me the tale.

"He told me to stay away from you, Perdita," Sinclaire said slowly as his wife lingered with her back to us in the doorway. "It's not goodbye, love, it's never -- "

But he said no more, for his wife's fingers were upon his sleeve, and she drew his hand to rest upon the curve of her womb.

I remembered the look in his eyes as I lay in the bath, Violette lathering my hair with myrrh and lavender soap from Paris. It hurt, why did it hurt so much?

I will name the child Ernest, for his father -- if he lives.

•••

Marlcaster stands in the stables, curry combing the heavily-breathing horse as it drinks noisily, and trying to quell the beat of his own heart. Somewhere, a nightingale is singing, far off yet, beyond the blue of the horizon near Ledford Park. He does not know what he had been expecting to find there, and he does not know what he would have done had he found it. A rider coming back over the fields from Edgewater perhaps: Sinclaire, smelling of Dita's skin. The thought makes him want to weep or heave his guts upon the floor, and for a moment, red swims in his vision, blocking out all that is good in the world:

but the nightingale, softly singing, like a dream.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

Remember me to one who lives there

She once was a true love of mine.

Wearily, Marlcaster climbs the stairs, walking softly along the carpeted hallway to his lady's bedroom, where he can hear her soft snores. The candle illuminates her piquant face, though she does not wake when he sets it down with a clatter on the bedside table, nor does she wake when he sits on the mattress, a soft whistle emanating from her lips.

Her mother was a celebrated opera soprano, but m' wife can't carry a tune in a bucket!

Yet, tonight, it seems the sweetest tune in all the world.

He pulls the sheet back, and as if in a daze, drinks in his wife's sleeping form, hungrily memorizing each peak and valley as if he might never see it again. The curve of her hip, the line of her plump thighs. Her bare breasts spill out of her chemise, and he feels himself go quite cold all over, as though he might be struck stone dead upon the spot.

Raising the candle for more light, he looks in horror at the purplish love bites all across her neck and breasts, and blows out the candle. He finds himself in the saddle again, with no memory of how he got there, and it at the crossroads that he heaves, the horse's nose pressed to his side, and then he is riding wearily back for London and a gaming hell in Seven Dials, to greet the morning.

#ned x dita #marlcaster x mc #desire and decorum #choices desire & decorum #canon divergent au

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lichlover · 5 years

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here’s something i think about a lot: the difference in age between aubrey, duck, and ned.

like, imagine you’re duck newton. you’ve seen your fair amount of shit. there’s all that world-savior stuff, for one, and now there are abominations in your woods. these great, horrible, shambling things that scream with a hundred voices. there isn’t a lot in your life that makes sense—hell, you’ve come to expect it by now—but you realize now that you’re facing something that doesn’t just rival nature. it makes a mockery of the thing you love, and then it tears it to shreds. and it will kill you without hesitation. you know this without a doubt.

and then you meet aubrey little. this bright-eyed, hotblooded, fast-talking young woman, full to bursting with showmanship and enthusiasm and curiosity, and she’s ready to take down the monsters under her bed. not to mention that she can spit fire from her fingers. she’s proven herself in a fight and then some, and you know that she can take care of herself, you’re sure of it, and yet—

she’s a kid. christ, she’s just a kid. she’s not even grown, and whatever she sees here is going to cling to her for the rest of her life. it’s going to turn her into something different. powerful and remarkable, sure, but different. you know this without a doubt. and sometimes you look at her—the fear that flashes across her face when a spell goes sour, or her hesitation when things take a turn for the worse, when she wonders is it my fault? is it me?

you look at her and you could swear you see your little sister.

(and then imagine you’re ned chicane, and every morning you wake up and think about the little boy who’s lived here his whole life and knows kepler like the back of his hand, and the little girl who’d stared you down in the flames and unleashed hell like it was instinct. you’re old, you’re jaded. you know how these stories end. except these two—they’re kids, christ, they’re just kids, and their stories aren’t anywhere near over—but they look like they understand, now, too.

you wonder, for awhile, what’s worse. is it knowing what’s coming for them? karma, divine retribution, the last of their luck running them into the ground? or is it fate getting to them before their time?

it takes you some time to figure it out. but you get it, you do, in the seconds before you get between pigeon and dani. pigeon, wild-eyed and clutching her rifle like a last resort. dani, filled with rage and lost in her own head.

they’re kids. christ, they’re just kids. you’d rather them go through hell than meet heaven too early.

so you’re going to save them. and they’re going to turn into something different. powerful, remarkable, different—but they’re going to live.

and besides, this is how your story ends.

you know this, now, without a doubt.)

#the adventure zone #taz amnesty #duck newton #aubrey little #ned chicane #mine #hoo boy!

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

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‘your tie is crooked.’ - starker wedding, maybe?

The One I’ve Been Dreaming Of

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~5K Notes: I kind of gave you a wedding! Maybe I’ll write a second part to this, who knows. Thanks for the prompt, nonnie! Warnings: it’s very soft, watch your step. Summary:

Peter Parker meets Tony Stark when he manages to snag a booth spot at the notorious Stark Expo. Cuteness ensues.

do the thing, send in all the prompts

During his sophomore year of college, Peter Parker met Tony Stark. He’d been working day and night for the entire semester to get his biodegradable fluid turned containers done in time to get them into the Stark Expo – Peter managed to barely sneak in, but he did it. In all of his years being in New York, Peter had only heard stories about the big collection of incredible inventions and technological advances, and he couldn’t wait to be a part of it.

So nervous leading up to the day, Peter didn’t secure any tickets for any of his friends or May – they all looked at him like he stabbed them in the back, so he went about trying to fix the problem. The ability to flash his badge at the door and get immediate entry into the expo hall made his heart race. It still blew his mind, the fact that he managed to create something good enough to snag booth space in one of the greatest tech expos in the entire world.

In all of his star struck glory, Peter lost track of where he was – his wandering eyes and overactive mind couldn’t focus on just one thing. The booths were pretty much ready for the opening the next day, so he looked his fill with no one around to watch him – or so he thought, at least.

“You know, the expo doesn’t start until tomorrow,” Peter heard from behind him. Turning quickly, Peter couldn’t help the way his jaw dropped. Tony Stark stood there in the flesh, his hands stuffed into well cut suit pants. His deep brown eyes were taking him in, a definitive curiosity settling within them.

Shaking himself, Peter shifted on his feet, his fingers fiddling with the ID badge around his neck. “Mr Stark, I –“

Tony spoke up suddenly, his voice on the right side of demanding. “Tony, please. None of that Mr. Stark bull shit,” Tony said, one of his hands coming out of his pocket to gesture in front of him. Peter watched the movement with wide eyes, his lips turning up in an amused grin.

“Tony, then. I’m Peter Parker, sir. I came in hopes of securing a few guest passes for a few of my adoring fans – this is the first time any of us have gotten this close to something so cool, everyone is pretty excited.” Peter found himself wondering why in the world he let all of that come out of his mouth, but it was out there now. It’d been a long time since word vomit came around and kick him in the face. Clenching his jaw, Peter fiddled with the badge a little more – idle hands were the bane of his existence.

“Oh, you brought in that biodegradable fluid that has bunch of purposes, right? Pepper showed me that one specifically a few days ago,” Tony admitted, his posture relaxing now that they seemed to be in more familiar territory. “What booth number are you? I want to stop by and hear the whole spiel.”

Taken aback, Peter caught himself smiling, his neck tingling from the praise he received from someone who didn’t know him from Adam. “Really? I mean – I’m in the C section at booth 109. The holoscreens you’re letting us use made putting my presentation together a total blast.” Peter didn’t mean to gush, but he spent so much time uploading his blueprints and making them presentable on the multi-dimensional tablets. Tony Stark was an absolute genius and Peter was not afraid to marvel in his presence.

“I’d be honored if you came and listened, Tony,” Peter added after a moment of silence between them. He felt a rush of heat move across his face and down his neck – the words were some of the boldest he’d ever let pass across his lips.

For the first time since stumbling upon the man, Peter recognized the look that passed across his face – Tony Stark blew up magazine covers with the most divine shit eating grin; having it projected at him seemed like a bit too much. Sucking in a breath, Peter passed the toe of his shoe across the floor, his entire body on fire from the intensity of the look.

“Count me in, Peter Parker. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tony shot him a wink and kept heading down the row and back towards the exit. Peter had to stand around for a couple of minutes before he could force his legs to move. He wasn’t sure what made him feel more winded, the fact that he ran into Tony Stark, or the fact that the gorgeous genius promised to stop by his booth. Either way, Peter knew he needed to make sure his presentation was spot on – so he headed back to his dorm room, determination fueling him.

It didn’t cross his mind that he forgot the guest passes until he was standing in line with Ned, MJ, and May the next day – the three of them buzzing with excitement. He spent the entire time they waited trying to figure out a way to get them in without causing a commotion – it seemed a little bit too late to tell them he’d been irresponsible because a gorgeous man stood 20 feet away from him and smiled so nicely.

Getting to the door, Peter gave the man at the door his name and flashed him his badge – he felt the tension of trying to come up with a lie in his jaw, his teeth grinding slightly. After a few seconds of looking at the list, the security guard shuffled through a couple of white envelopes and handed one that said P. Parker to Peter. Inside were 5 guests passes and a note.

Thought you might need these. See you later.

Peter let out a huge sigh of relief and chalked the racing of his heart up to the endorphins rushing through him – it totally wasn’t the care in which Tony took to get him something he mentioned in passing – not that at all.

He quickly pulled three of the passes out, giving one to each of the people surrounding him. Walking forward to get them out of the line, Peter stopped everyone before they entered the big expo center. “Those will get you into everything except the backstage stuff. Have fun – but don’t forget to come watch me give my presentation at 2:30. Familiar faces in the crowd would be very much appreciated.”

MJ and Ned scattered quickly, the two of them looking at the badges around their neck the same way Peter did his the first time he saw it. Before leaving herself, May pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re going to kill it. Just let that nerdy little brain go and everything will be perfect.” She gave his arm a soft punch, then turned on her toes and headed through the door into the lively expo center, leaving him to it.

Walking in, Peter was totally astounded by the difference a few hours made – the lights were bright and people were pressed into the space ass to elbows. Suddenly glad he got to see some of the stuff while it was still calm, Peter tucked his head down and headed towards his booth. He wasn’t the only person that wasn’t totally up and running yet, but he hurried, anyway. The mass of people moving up and down the line of booths were people he could convince and impress – the quicker that happened for him, the better off he was.

It took him a couple of people to really warm up to the bouncing around the booth thing. Many people asked the same question, so he came up with a little rhetoric that would cover all of the basic things. There were only a few people that were genuinely interested – Peter spent a lot of extra time and energy talking with those people. It was exhausting, trying to stretch his brain in so many different directions.

Thankfully, Peter got to take a 20-minute break before his presentation – he capitalized on it by sucking down a Dr. Pepper and stuffing two Snickers bars into his mouth. The rush of sugar hitting him peaked right around the time he flicked his fingers across the front of the holoscreen to wake it up.

Before he started to talk, Peter felt a familiar stare on him – he looked up to find Tony Stark inconspicuously standing amongst the crowd. Tony threw Peter that same wink from the day before and nodded his head. To say he wasn’t waiting to see if Tony would actually show up would be a total lie.

The drumming of his heart against his ribcage slowed down, but only just slightly. A whole new set of nerves were trying to make their way to the forefront – having Tony Stark listen to something he spent so much time and energy on seemed like a pretty huge deal.

By the time Peter really got going, though, he totally forgot about the fact that there was a crowd around him – he simply talked about the science he’d been working on for a long time. He knew everything about the fluid he randomly stumbled upon during AP Organic Chemistry his senior year. Talking about it was easy and the more that came out of his mouth, the more natural it all became.

Wrapping up, Peter finally tore his eyes way from the incredible piece of technology housing his life’s work and locked eyes with Tony once again. This time, he grinned widely – the stealthily charming way his face changed from one emotion to the other practically kicking Peter right in the teeth. It took a second for him to catch his breath – human people shouldn’t be allowed to look that good.

The act of shaking everyone’s hand took up his attention almost immediately after breaking eye contact with Tony – he was swarmed by people dropping names and credentials like it meant anything to him. Peter simply gripped their hands, tried to pay attention as much as possible, and took the business card he was given. Though he knew he’d never use any of them, the thought of people being interested in his creation was a rather nice one.

May, MJ, and Ned all pulled him into a hug when they eventually made their way to the front of his booth. Over the past couple of years, Peter used the three of them as a sounding board every time he got stuck, or just needed to run through his findings again.

None of them needed to hear his presentation – they lived through it. Regardless, he was happy to have the support; even if their presence was entirely because of the man who’d been hanging back, obviously waiting for a free second to approach him.

Finally, after what felt like way too long, Tony Stark was standing in front of him. It took Peter a few seconds to collect himself enough to actually get words out of his mouth. “Thanks for coming,” Peter decided on, slipping a hand into the space between them.

Tony took it without hesitation – his fingers were warm and covered in callouses, the fact that he did his own work apparent in the well-worn nature of his palms and fingertips. More than beauty, then.

“Wouldn’t have missed it. You’ve got something interesting on your hands, Pete. With a little bit more funding and some better equipment – you could really have something.” Tony only dropped his hand then, Peter’s skin on fire from the tight grip and intense ‘zing’ that shot through him. Despite being covered by purple glasses, Tony’s eyes were recognizably watching him, the depth of their brown only enhanced by the darkness of the lens.

Peter let the words sink in now that the distracting touch wasn’t pumping liquid fire through his veins. Tony Stark, greatest brain in the world, thought he had something. What could that possibly mean? Peter knew the direction he wanted to take the biodegradable fluid, but also wanted to be the one to take it there. Whatever it was – the simplistic idea that Tony thought it was good seemed like more than enough.

“Probably the coolest thing I’ve ever heard,” Peter babbled, a hot blush slipped across his cheeks as he spoke, but he couldn’t even help it – this entire interaction seemed like a dream.

A deep laugh settled in the space between them, Peter reddening further when he realized just how nice the sound actually was. It pulled a bubble of excitement and laughter from Peter’s chest, too – the collection of sound immediately absorbed in all the madness surrounding them. He tried not to smile too widely – the last thing Tony Stark needed was another person gushing over him.

Which made the next thing to come out of Tony’s mouth a total surprise. “I’d love to hear more about it. And you, honestly. Any big plans after the expo hall closes tonight? Or could I possibly steal you away for dinner?”

Eyes bugging widely, Peter looked at him incredulously. When Tony didn’t put his hands up in jest, Peter let a huge smile spread across his face. The answering one from Tony himself was even better. Sucking in a breath, Peter didn’t spend another second hesitating. “No – no big plans. I would love to be stolen away for dinner.”

Thinking quickly, Peter took a pen from the table next to him and pulled Tony’s hand to him. Tony stared at him for a second, then spread his finger, turning his palm up – what Peter was about to do becoming apparent. “I’ll be here until 8. Let me know where to meet you.” He wrote his number carefully, leaving no room for confusion.

The smile they shared made Peter’s heart beat a little faster. Tony’s face was split wide by the smile, his cheeks crinkling at the corners from the force of it. His eyes got a little squinty, like he was staring at something bright instead of Peter himself. It felt like a long time before either of them moved a muscle – Tony finally stepped away, the hand with Peter’s number waving back at him as he retreated.

A few minutes later, Peter’s text message notification went off. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Peter found himself beaming.

Maybe – Tony Stark: Meet you at your booth when you’re done. Maybe – Tony Stark: Looking forward to it.

Quickly adding his contact, Peter glanced up at the time and let out a long breath – he still had 5 hours to get through.

----

After street tacos from a food truck a little outside the Brooklyn area code, Peter had a hard time not falling heels over head in love with Tony. The recognizable nerves in Tony’s eyes when he pulled his fancy car up to the slightly sketchy looking eatery made Peter laugh – he reached over and grabbed Tony’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “This is perfect.” Peter reassured, his stomach grumbling in agreeance. “How’s their barbacoa?”

From there, things took off without much of a hitch. It took Peter a while to get used to the fact that every single one of his moves with Tony was highly publicized – the idea of being famous was not one he ever played around with before. There were a few moments of doubt that put a bit of separation between them, but even then, Peter was unable to stay away. Tony’s patience and the respect he gave to Peter’s feelings spoke much louder than the clicks of paparazzi cameras.

The minute Peter finally gave himself to all that surrounded Tony, things between them got so much better. Tony took him in and showed him so many things about life that Peter couldn’t have possibly imagined. They shared the lab where Peter had access to everything he could’ve possibly needed to transform and adapt his biodegradable fluid. And when he was stuck or at the end point of one of his experiments, Tony would gesture him over and catch him up on whatever he’d been working on.

They did lots of things outside of the lab, too. In the many moments they spent together, Peter got to see a side of Tony that no one else did. He’d been around Tony and Pepper together and Tony and Happy to know that he kept walls up the entire time. Regardless of the fact that those two people were some of his oldest and closest friends, they weren’t privy to the final and most essential piece of Tony – the enormous heart that resided in the darkest confines of his chest.

During the still times with the older man, Peter learned that he snuffled in his sleep and when he was really tired, he’d talk about the experiment on his mind or recite words in Italian. Every now and again, Peter was conscious enough to put the word in his notes to be looked up later. Tony liked to be held when nightmares caught up to him and played the big spoon all other times – which was fine, Peter was not opposed to being held tightly against the warmest chest he’d ever encountered.

Physicality wasn’t instantaneous between them, either. Peter had to admit that he appreciated the restraint – getting to know Tony without putting the barrier of raging hormones between them to begin with made it even better when it did eventually happen.

In his teenage years, Peter was always embarrassed to admit that he kept his virginity – it seemed like a turnoff to the more mature people he always wanted to attract. Handing it over to Tony, however, felt like passing off something special – his boyfriend approached the situation with knowledge and care; Peter didn’t think many people could say their first time was THAT good.

Once Peter got the itch for pleasures of the flesh, they were all over each other. The 6 months it took for them to actually come together in that way was cherished – Peter got to know the little things before his brain became a beacon for insatiable want and desire. The way Tony made him feel was a welcome distraction and the final straw that broke into pieces to open up the dam of feelings he’d been doing his best to keep in check.

Tony took him out to celebrate finishing the semester about a year into their relationship – Peter only had one more year left and couldn’t wait to be done. A part of him wanted to take the many job offers Tony whispered in his ear when he amazed him in the lab, or when they discussed the homework that got progressively harder the further into his degree that he got. The part that always won out wanted to be absolutely prepared for it, though, and knew he wouldn’t be until he at least had a platform to stand on.

For once, Peter let Tony take him to a fancy place – he aced all 21 hours he took that semester, so it only seemed appropriate. In New York’s finest Italian establishment, Tony got them a private table in a fancy room attached to the main dining area. The table looked tiny compared to the empty space around them. The hostess left them with a nod – there wouldn’t be any menus that night, they were in for whatever the chef’s special was.

The conversation was easy, Peter listened to Tony recall a disgruntlement between Pepper and Happy, his cheeks alive with the smile that slipped across his face. Comfortability looked good so good on him. Reaching across the table, Peter grabbed Tony’s hand, a look of adoration slipping across his face. Tony quirked his head, a question in his gaze. “What?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders, his grip on Tony’s hand tightening a little. “Nothing. How good you look just caught me off guard.” His voice was level, the words obviously genuine.

Soft lips on his hand sent a shiver down the length of his spine. Peter shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping him. “That’s so cheesy.” Tony said as he pulled away, his smiling growing. “I could say the same for you, though. Your excitement is written all over you.”

“Good – I’m happy. Finding success and being in love agrees with me.” Peter held his breath, mentioning love hadn’t been the plan, but it couldn’t seem to be helped. The red wine they were sipping on loosened his lips and the openness of his heart made it that much easier. He didn’t have any intention of going anywhere. The feeling was only going to get more intense – the depth of it different with each passing minute. Why not admit it?

“It does – there are times when it’s devastating, how beautiful you truly are lit up like this,” Tony replied softly. It pulled the breath from his lungs, how earnestly Tony said those words. He pulled off his glasses for the first time all evening, the molten brown of his eyes shining. “I love you, Pete. I’m in love with you. In that weirdly desperate sort of way. Have been for a while, too. A long while.” Tony disguised the vulnerability of his words with a chuckle, his hand tightening within Peter’s grip.

Grinning widely, Peter started to babble – “Same. Me too – I mean, I love you, too. So much. It’s insane, being with you – but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And there wasn’t – no matter how much MJ and Ned fought against the age gap between them. To Peter, age was just a number and there wasn’t anything that was going to convince him otherwise. Tony kept up with him and when he couldn’t, he stood back and let Peter do his thing – no matter what age, doing something like that was hard for any person. Despite the labels that floated around Tony’s head, Peter knew better and understood Tony’s tendencies and attitudes. There were certain things that would always protect a person – and Tony chose walls to build as his.

Taking the time to look behind them was a challenge that Peter was more than willing to take on – the things he discovered when doing so were more than worth it.

When the moment he’d been hoping for since they met came, Peter said yes without hesitation. It wasn’t grand or out in the open, the way Tony asked him to be his husband. They were sitting out on the balcony after a last-ditch effort meal they threw together with the remaining goods in the refrigerator, clearing space for the food delivery set to come the next day. Tony poured them an aged scotch and they curled up in the swinging seat they built themselves.

Peter leaned into the weight of Tony’s arm around him, his head settling against his chest. It’d been a while since they got to do anything other than pass each other by, so it felt stupidly good to be butted up against his greatest comfort source. A soft sigh left his lips, his chest relaxing for the first time in days.

“This is nice,” Peter said – the silence around them seemed to absorb the words, adding them to the atmosphere they created in the little bubble they were existing in in that very moment.

Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead, the scratch of his goatee making Peter’s eyes close, the touch enticingly familiar and soothing. “Everything about this, us, is nice, Pete. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Tony tugged him a little closer as he spoke.

The words took his breath away, but they were only the beginning. “I’ve had this thing in my pocket for months now,” Tony remarked as he shifted a little, a black box coming into view. Strong fingers flipped it open – a damascus steel wedding band sat within it. “I can’t even remember what I was waiting for, but it seems silly now. I want this forever, Pete – the ease and comfortability and passion that exists between us. Does that sound okay? Will you be my husband?”

Peter looked between Tony and the most unique ring he’d ever seen. Without thought, he nodded his head – “Yeah, yes – of course!” Peter put his untouched drink down on the ground and used his free hands to grab Tony’s face and press their lips together.

It took a few minutes to pull away from each other, Tony insistently kissed him the second their lips touched – Peter could feel the rush of so many emotions releasing in the caress. He kept his grip on Tony tight, Peter unwilling to let him get away. When the need for oxygen finally forced the issue, Tony sat back, pulling Peter’s hand with him, slipping the ring onto his finger. The swirl of the two metals together looked like an optical illusion against the paleness of his skin.

Tony pulled Peter’s hand to his lips and placed a kiss against the ring resting on the skin of his third finger.

“Forever it is then.”

----

The actual planning of the wedding was a lot more exhausting than Peter initially figured. Pepper, the beautiful human that she was, took care of a lot of it – she had friends that were wedding planners, so the most stressful things were handled flawlessly. It was the little things, however, that tripped them up the most. Tony wanted whatever Peter wanted, and that made deciding twice as difficult.

For the most part, Peter worked on instinct. He knew Tony’s favorite color was a dark red, which went perfectly with the gray of the suits he had in mind. The idea of having too many flowers anywhere near the place he said ‘I do’ made his stomach turn, so he focused on the food and alcohol choices that seemed a little more necessary. All of the extravagance seemed a little silly when Peter would’ve married Tony in a paper bag if that was the only option – but he knew tying himself to Tony Stark came with obligations, starting with a wedding that people could be seen at.

Despite that, Peter kept the guest list pretty small and decided to keep it simple and have it on the penthouse level of Stark Tower were they’d slowly been making a home for the last couple of years. A moving crew came in two days before the ceremony and removed all the furniture in the living room, dining room, and kitchen – the space now empty and equipped for the eclectic collection of foods that would be offered after their brief ceremony.

Before anyone knew it, they were getting ready for the small rehearsal dinner that May insisted she help with. Thankfully, Peter managed to cut the guest list down to their immediate friends making it much easier to handle. There were going to be more than 100 pairs of eyes staring at him the next day, the less people he needed to deal with the night before, the better.

Peter spent an extra couple of hours in the lab before going up to get ready – his mind was delightfully clear after getting his hands dirty. The stress he’d been feeling started to boil down into nothing the closer it got to marrying Tony. It’s what he wanted – a forever with the person that made him the happiest. No matter what happened that evening or the next day, getting to call himself a Stark at the end of it all was the only thing that mattered.

Tony ended up having a meeting until right before dinner, so his presence in the bathroom while Peter finished up getting ready made him jump. “Tony – holy shit!” Peter shouted, his voice echoing around them. Arms wrapped hm up, a chuckle huffing against his neck the only answer he knew he was going to get.

“I got done a little early. Thought I’d see how you were handling the suit,” Tony muttered, his lips moving across the length of Peter’s neck as he spoke. His hands moved down the length of Peter’s jacket, and across the crisp leather belt holding custom fit trousers. “Looks pretty good, except – “

Quick hands turned him around, Peter grinning when he came face to face with Tony’s dark eyes and soft smirk. “Your tie is crooked.” He worked the knot until it rested on the hollow of Peter’s throat, his fingers caressing the skin there. He was decked out in the dark red Tony liked, his shirt, vest, and tie etched with black seams and outlines. Tony wore black with the same shirt, vest, and tie combination. They looked like they went together.

Leaning forward, Peter stole a kiss from Tony before the man could even reciprocate. He pulled the sides of Tony’s coat closed and patted his stomach, affection dripping from him. “I can’t wait to marry you.” He looked Tony straight in the eye, the words somehow more serious that way.

The crinkles at the corner of Tony’s eyes got a little deeper as the happiest smile Peter could remember seeing spread across his face. “Yeah, me either.”

#starker #ironspider #ask prompts #bobbie writes #wedding au #weddings #nonnie #anonymous #the one i've been dreaming of

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lyselkatzfandomluvs · 4 years

Text

My edits - Masterpost

Making a MASTERLIST for my edits because I’m losing track of what’s done and what’s in my to-do folders.

EDIT: looks like the links aren’t working on mobile anymore. They point to results on the whole tumblr instead of just on my blog. I don’t kow how to fix this so I’m afraid the only solution is to seach for the film title on my blog.

Band of Brothers cast

They are under the tag #My BoB cast edits (outsourced content and reblogs from other content creators, mostly for those with wider fan-base, are tagged #BoB cast) and with the actor’s name or the serie/movie title.

Feel free to send me an ask if there’s anything you’d like to see from BoB and its cast

Ensemble

Band of Brothers (obviously 😝)

Ron Livingston's bootcamp video diary

Wales Comic Con 2020 twitch panel

We happy few 506 zoom panels

Doug Allen

Sherlock (BBC)

Jamie Bamber

A Christmas in New York

Hornblower

Eion Bailey

Center stage

Covert affairs

Dawson's creek

Deliver by Christmas

FBI

Fight Club

Life of the party

Mindhunters

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Stalker

Switched for Christmas

Philip Barantini

Ned Kelly

Ben Caplan

Leap year

New blood

The coroner

The lost honour of Christopher Jefferies

Whitechapel

Michael Cudlitz

21 Jump street

A river runs through it

Dark tourist

Dragon : The Bruce Lee story

Kings of con

SouthLAnd

Standoff

Dale Dye

44 minutes: The North Hollywood Shoot-Out

Michael Fassbender

Gunpowder, treason & plot

Dexter Fletcher

Below

Bugsy Malone

Caravaggio

Dramarama

Gentlemen in squalor

Hotel Babylon

Lock, stock and two smoking barrels

The Rachel papers

Music video - Kylie Minogue "Some kind of bliss"

Stephen Graham

Boardwalk empire

Ezra Godden

Dagon

Quarantine "Isolation" videos

Rick Gomez

Applebox

Daily Rick’s tips

Hawaii five-0

Law and order

Leave

The adventures of Pete & Pete

The millionaire Tour

The week

Three to tango

Interview - Your story interview with Christine Schneider

Scott Grimes

Critters

Colin Hanks

Parkland

Tom Hardy

Colditz

Nolan Hemmings

Black Book

Colour me Kubrick

Dive to the Bermuda Triangle

Heartbeat

Pump up the volume

Sharpe’s eagle

The Aryan couple

The Mahabharata

Frank John Hughes

Applebox

Blue lagoon: the awakening

Cover Me: Based on the True Life of an FBI Family

Homicide: Life on the streets

Leave

Legends

NCIS

Players

Righteous kill

The Funeral

The Guardian

The week

Viper

Lucie Jeanne

Central nuit

Joséphine ange gardien

L’été rouge

Relic hunter

Robin Laing

Beautiful creatures

Dive to the Bermuda Triangle

Doors open

Murder room

Taggart

The coroner

The lakes

The slab boys

Waking the dead

Matthew Leitch

AKA

Below

Mile high

Renford rejects

Strike back

Damian Lewis

Alex Rider: Operation Stormbreaker

A touch of Frost

Colditz

Life

The baker

Ron Livingston

44 minutes: The North Hollywood Shoot-Out

Addicted to Fresno

American crude

Applebox

Beat

Boardwalk empire

Body shots

Buying the cow

Defying gravity

Dice

Digging for fire

Dinner for schmucks

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Drinking buddies

Fort bliss

Going the distance

James White

King of the ants

Kings of con

Leave

Little black book

Loudermilk

Music within

Office Space

Parkland

Players

Queens of country (trailer)

Relative strangers

Saints and strangers

Sex and the city

Shangri-La suite

Shimmer lake

Standoff

Straight talk

Swinger

The 5th Wave

The conjuring

The cooler

The long dumb road

The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then The Bigfoot

The Romanoffs

The sidekick

Timecop

Touchy feely

Tully

Interview - Off camera with Sam Jones

Interview - Alexander Valley Film Society

Misc - Keyboard cat

James Madio

Applebox

Hook

Leave

The week

Tim Matthews

Five children and It

Heartbeat

Judge John Deed

Music video - "Taking chances”

Ross McCall

A Christmas in New York

A country Christmas story

Crash

CSI: New York

Ghost whisperer

Hex

It’s not you, it’s me

Lucifer

Nature unleashed: Fire

Pie in the sky

Quarantine : Rome

Rome in love

Snake man/The snake king

Submerged

The beautiful ones

Waterland

White collar

Neal McDonough

Boomtown

Quantum leap

Jason O'Mara

Sons of liberty

The Agency

Peter O'Meara

Leap year

Strike back

Bart Ruspoli

Devil’s playground

David Schwimmer

Uprising

Matthew Settle

Beneath

Blue smoke

Criminal minds- Beyond borders

Divine secrets of the Ya-Ya sisterhood

I still know what you did last summer

Love, sick love

Marshall’s miracle

Ouija

So undercover

The Celestine prophecy

The in crowd

The mystery of Natalie Wood

U-571

Valentine

Douglas Spain

44 minutes: The North Hollywood Shoot-Out

Richard Speight Jr

3 Blind saints

American crude

Applebox

Driven

J.A.G.

Jericho

Kings of con

Life

Matlock

The agency

The sidekick

The week

Shane Taylor

Agriculture

Aura/The exorcism of Karen Walker

Devil’s playground

Hunter killer

Quirke

Sons of liberty

Strike Back

The day of the Triffids

Walking with the enemy

Music video - Stalker Miller "Jenny"

Donnie Wahlberg

Boomtown

Dead silence

Righteous kill

The sixth sense

Rick Warden

Shackleton

Marc Warren

Colour me Kubrick

Peter Youngblood Hills

AKA

Michel Vaillant

Submerged

The beach

The marksman

********

MISC EDITS

James Badge Dale

Parkland

Scott Bakula

Quantum leap

Rob Benedict

Kings of con

The sidekick

Misha Collins

Dave Franco

interview GQ 2014

Misc - LG, It's all possible

Lena Headey

Waterland

Ilia Kulik

Center stage

Alessandra Mastronardi

Quarantine : Rome

Helen McCrory

Life

Ewan McGregor

Alex Rider: Operation Stormbreaker

Joe Mazzello

Wooly boys

Piper Perabo

Covert affairs

Norman Reduus

Beat

Zoe Saldana

Center stage

Michael Sheen

Music within

Brian J. Smith

World on Fire (BBC)

Sebastian Stan

Misc - Save with stories

Tom Wisdom

Mile high

#band of brothers #band of brothers cast #my edits #masterpost #can't edit with a cut on the phone #and tumblr won't let me keep my gifset layout on laptop #so I chose to put one simgle gif instead #i love this place but it's always a nightmare if I need editing my posts #my BoB edits #my BoB cast edits #my gifs

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movie--posters · 3 years

Photo

#waking ned divine #movie poster #movie posters #film #films #ireland

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wrinkledparchment · 5 years

Text

[ first, or last? ]

Summary: At age thirteen, you get a sentence of your soulmate’s written on your wrist. Trouble is, it is never specified whether they are their first words to you, or their last. With something mysterious written on your wrist, will you ever discover your soulmate?

Word Count: 3,569

A/N: Sorry for taking a two-day break, I just needed to relax for a little bit!! I didn’t think that this was going to be this long but YIKE, it was and I don’t think it’s my best work ever but I want to keep you guys satiated!!

Taglist: @obsiidio

when you were thirteen, words would suddenly appear on your wrist, showcasing your soulmate’s words, something that at some point in your life, would spill from their mouth.

it was only one sentence, sometimes fragmented, and it wasn’t always clear. there was no context, no indicator for when it would happen. there was something worse, though; you didn’t know if they were your soulmate’s first words to you, or their last. you’d supposedly have to figure it out.

ambiguously, scrawled in typewriter ink, was ‘you know that.’ something so strange, out of place, and you’d wished it was inherently obvious whether they were first words or last.

you’d hated soulmates for a whole year now. being only seventeen years old, you’d had their words written on your wrist for four years. and for the first three, you’d tracked every time someone had said anything close to what was on your wrist.

nobody had ever said that to you as their first words, and everyone who had said that to you had spoken to you again afterward. but for those first three years, spent almost in their entirety searching for someone you wouldn’t find, you hadn’t seen the look on your neighbor’s face when she got her words.

you remember going over to celebrate her thirteenth birthday when you were sixteen. she’d sat there in her fluffy chair in the corner of her room, admiring the writing on your wrist.

“i like the font,” she’d muttered under her breath. “it looks like it came from an old newspapers, like it was written with an old typewriter. it fits your personality.”

and suddenly, at the exact time she’d been born--12:30 in the afternoon--a searing pain struck at her wrist as if she’d been getting tattooed. you remembered it hurting so much you’d had to screw your eyes shut.

you regretted not keeping them open so you could watch as they were written by an unknown force, inscribed with delicacy unto your wrist. everyone had told you it was a breathtaking sight, that sometimes it glowed.

so as she shed a tear looking at her soulmark, you’d assumed it was the pain, but she soon let out a blood-curdling scream. getting up quickly from your position on her bed, you’d pulled her wrist away from her view and looked at the words written.

she buried her head in your shoulder, muttering something incoherent as you rubbed gently at her neck. having a soulmate was supposed to be a happy experience, something sacred and divine, so without a clue, you sat there in silence.

you allowed her to pull away, and when you looked her in the eyes, your heart nearly broke in two. there was a heaviness in her eyes, something unexplainably depressing about the soulmark that had obviously left her devastated.

as she let another tear slip, she opened her mouth. “those were the last words my old friend ever said to me.” sitting there in silence, you weren’t sure what to say. you didn’t have to ask who she was talking about, because you knew.

she’d died last year in a car crash going home after hanging out with your neighbor, and she’d never even gotten to know. never gotten to know that her friend was her soulmate. with the words ‘see you tomorrow.’ inked onto her skin, she sobbed, and you were forced to listen.

ever since then, you had hated soulmates and brushed them off. but now, as you stood watching this fire-y elemental battle it out with mysterio and a knock-off spider-man, as ned had called it, you wished that you didn’t resent them.

you wished you had still entered in your ‘you know that journal’, as you’d dubbed it. you’d write down every time someone said that to you, the date, and their name. you’d have known if you’d met your soulmate before this.

you wished that you’d at least known your soulmate prior, because you did not think you’d come out of this alive.

some people never met them. some people didn’t get an opportunity to even have a hint. sometimes things ended prematurely, and sometimes you didn’t get a say. you knew that. you just always thought it would happen to someone else.

trapped on a ferris wheel, you told yourself to breathe. and so, sitting in a scorching metal cart, you held back tears and tried not to look at the fiery beast that was only a few hundred feet away from you.

hearing screams from other people trapped on the ferris wheel, you thought about your best friend, peter parker. where the hell was he? would you die without ever saying goodbye to him, since the last time you saw him was at the opera house, and he’d just said something about not feeling well to you before leaving?

peter had always refused to reference his soulmark, and soulmate by association. he’d always thought the worst about that kind of stuff, and he could comfort you about your soulmate. he’d just never talk about his own.

only once ever seeing what it said, you’d understood why. it was very obvious that they were last words, or at least that’s what you’d immediately presumed. it was written in a similar font to yours, a typewriter ink as well, though it looked a lot older.

however, what had stung you was the fact that it had said ‘don’t leave me, please peter.’ which meant that whatever and whenever it was, peter was the one who would die.

so as you sat back, thinking of your best friend in a moment of crisis in an attempt to die with a smile on your face, your mind wandered. until there was fire right behind your head, flames swirling around your cart and no mysterio, no hero to save you now, in sight.

most would scream. most would sob and beg for help. but you sat in utter silence, your friends, parents, your favorite memories and songs in your head. it was content for a few moments, even in near-death, while your only option was to think.

use your head, you thought to yourself, and you finally snapped out of it. you couldn’t really escape on your own, but nobody knew you were there, being close to the bottom and not easy to see.

flames licked your face, and smoke inhalation began to take over your brain. you felt light-headed, you felt the walls closing in, but you thought of your soulmate.

you still didn’t know who they were. so deciding that you wouldn’t go down without a fight before meeting them, you took the book that was in your hands, put it just enough over the edge of your burning-hot cart that it would catch fire, and tossed.

it went straight up in the air like a firework, and you frowned because that was a second-edition copy of a very old book. it was the book or your life, and almost any other moment you would’ve sacrificed your life for the sake of knowledge and preserving it, but this time, you didn’t.

it must have been the drinks they’d served at the festival of lights only a few minutes ago. you wished that maybe you’d have tugged peter out of his room and forced him on the ferris wheel with you. he’d have known what to do.

but tonight, you were going to die. you were trapped without anyone or anything in a sizzling hot car made of metal with a fire monster right outside. your heartbeat was out of your chest, your throat was closing and your head was spinning.

smoke inhalation was about to get the best of you. coughing desperately, putting your hand over your mouth and using your sleeve to filter the air, you hoped.

you hoped that your soulmate knew, regardless of most likely never having met them, that you loved them. and that though you disliked soulmates, you didn’t dislike them. they were meant for you.

just as your eyes started to close, you heard a familiar voice call out to you, and you fought to turn towards it. “[name]! i’m coming!”

all you could think in your barely conscious state was peter is coming, and without knowing anything about where he was, or how he would get to you, you trusted him. through the flames, something in all-black jumped on to your cart and held out their hand.

wishing that you had the strength you had only two minutes ago, you look at it, unable to understand what this stranger wanted you to do. “please,” you heard in a desperate voice, one that sounded like him, and so you immediately grabbed on.

you wrapped your arms around their neck, but before they could get you safely to the ground, set you down and tell you to run away, your asphyxiation caught up to you, and you fainted in their arms.

he felt your heartbeat slow down, and he wondered if that was good or bad, but when he went to set you down and all your dead-weight fell to the ground, he panicked.

did he just lose his best friend because he wasn’t quick enough?

putting you far enough away, he took one last glance at your unconscious form before turning back to the battle, hoping that he hadn’t just lost yet another person due to his own inability to save his loved ones.

uncle ben, tony, and now you?

waking up in peter’s room after the attack was startling. it was obvious you weren’t in your own, and your lungs still ached and felt clogged. you were still in the same clothes with one of his blankets draped over you, as he was curled up in a ball on the floor next to you.

“peter?” you whispered, wondering why you were here instead of--i don’t know-- a hospital? his eyes slowly fluttered open, a truly wondrous sight you’d enjoyed sleepover mornings. you wished that your shadow didn’t cast over him and that you weren’t hanging a foot and a half above him, but still.

“hey [name], are you feeling okay? i found you on a park bench after the attack, so ned and i brought you with us. the guy in the black saved you, i saw it on the news.”

“yeah, i’m feeling okay. my lungs feel like they’re imploding right now, though. i passed out from smoke inhalation, if it weren’t for the knock-off spider-dude, i’d probably be dead right now.”

your exasperated breaths flashed through peter’s mind, his fears that struck in the deepest part of his heart during the battle reigniting. when he’d seen a flying book that was caught on fire launch into the air, he knew someone was there.

but when he’d looked through the flames to see you, ashes on your face which had been glowing, lit by the fire, with a distraught look on your face and your hand covering your mouth, he’d flipped.

because in that moment, with that elemental, it was personal. it was real, and his best friend, hopefully something more, was in danger. he had no help, and neither did you, and you looked like you had one foot in the grave.

seeing the raw look on his face, fragments of worry etched into every wrinkle on his face, you regretted saying that. even if it was the truth. because it obviously hurt him to think of a life without you.

what you didn’t know that it was also because he had your life in his hands, and if you hadn’t made it, he’d have been at fault.he was one failure away from losing you entirely. he knew that.

“i wish i had been there,” he muttered, clenching his jaw. “i wish you could’ve avoided being in that mess entirely, and the only reason you were there was because i was gone.”

“it’s fine, peter. it’s not your fault. you know that,” you countered, almost not even saying the last sentence but you did anyway.

“i could’ve lost you last night,” he said sadly.

“you won’t lose me,” you replied almost instantly, a look of determination, and comfort, and hope flashing across your face, before turning into something comforting.

“don’t make promises that you can’t keep, [name].”

after dinner, you headed back to your shared room with mj. you allowed yourself to sit on the bed, and let out a large breath, as mj looked back at you with a tight-lipped smile.

“where was peter during the attack last night, [name]?” she spoke suddenly, with curiosity, as if she already knew the answer.

“i didn’t see him, but he brought me back here after it. he said he was out with ned, i think,” you answered honestly. she nodded her head, digesting the information before there was a knock on her door.

“i’m going out,” she suddenly muttered underneath her breath, scrambling to put on nice clothes and brush her teeth, and without saying another word, she walked out. odd.

sitting in silence, you thought about peter. his smile, his sorrow-filled eyes, and his words. don’t make promises that you can’t keep.

you sat, looking at your soulmark, and going through everything anyone ever said to you. no first words, no last words, you hadn’t found and then lost your soulmate. you must’ve not known them yet.

it’s either that, or it’s someone you’re about to lose. don’t make promises...

you thought back to the words he had written on his wrist, feeling pity grow in your stomach. ‘don’t leave me, please peter.’ and you wondered when he would leave that person. and you wondered who got so lucky to have peter parker as their soulmate.

you hadn’t seen him for a whole two days, and you started to get worried. you wondered where he was if he wasn’t on a school trip, the chaperones making some bullshit excuse that he was with family in berlin.

so, sitting and waiting on the bus with a different driver this time, you allowed yourself to sit and look out the window, seeing the skies suddenly brew into a darker color.

london was known for nasty, rainy weather but not like that, and suddenly, it was very obvious that this wasn’t a storm. another monster, this time looking like a storm itself, began attacking civilians as it rose up from the river.

“it’s not real, it’s not real,” ned began to mutter to himself, and you watched as flash rebutted before pointing his phone at the storm, following them off the bus.

you began to look as traffic jammed up on the river, and though most people in this situation would run and quickly, you looked to see a distressed mother on the tower bridge, holding a small six-year-old’s hand and a baby with her other arm.

they were innocent children, a mother and two kids, and they looked terrified. you should have ran, you could’ve . . . but you didn’t.

quickly waving to the trio, you ran over as quickly as you could. “i’ll get you guys out of here, come on.” suddenly, part of the monster disappeared and it was an army of drones, but you continued to try and get them to safety.

you took the six-year-old’s hand yourself, and directed the mother off the bridge while clearing the path of debris and watching carefully for cars that might explode, like in the movies.

finally getting them escorted away, she told you quickly that her baby was a twin, and there was still another child in the car. wondering why she didn’t tell you that sooner, you began to run back.

within a moment, when you arrived at the car and began to grab the baby from the seat, you spotted a drone in the corner of your eye, aiming at you.

you wondered why you were a target, but all that was running through your mind was getting the child to safety. so you took the baby and booked it, all the while the drone was shooting at your feet.

quickly giving the woman the baby and telling them to hurry away from you as fast as possible, you ran back towards the bridge, where there were the least amount of people. you spotted a blur of red and black swinging up into the bridge, and you smiled to yourself.

you heard his shouts, and you knew it was him. looking at him and paying no attention at all to the drone that was on you, all you hear is a ‘watch out!’ from a man at the edge of the bridge.

you didn’t move, and suddenly you heard shots being fired. before you could register what had happened, it suddenly shut down, floating back down to the ground. you let yourself fall to your knees.

your hand reached to touch several open wounds on your stomach, pulling away with a stark crimson on your calloused, bleeding hand. it dripped down, warmth flowing with it, and you let your eyelids droop.

it felt eerily similar to your situation at the ferris wheel, but this time, you couldn’t see surviving as an option. there, you weren’t actually injured. here, you had a hole in your abdomen.

you fell onto your back with a thud, and there was too much pain everywhere to register the head-trauma that would cause. you spread your legs out, laying flatly, and let out a large breath.

this is the end, you thought, and thinking back to your soulmark, you wondered how and who was going to discover you. the universe must have planned this, right?

hearing another thud, similar to yours, you wondered if that was them. so you turned your head to your left, seeing spider-man standing there in a new suit.

you were losing a lot of blood, and so in your delusional state of mind, you greeted spider-man by asking, “peter?”

his white glass eyes widened, letting out an exasperated “you knew?”

“i recognize your voice,” you mused, smiling at him even in the pain you were in. he walked over to you, going to lift off his mask before KAREN called out to him.

“she’s losing a lot of blood and has 6 open wounds on her abdomen. it is estimated that she will not survive, even if transferred to a hospital.” peter let out a strangled noise, and decided he had to make it count.

“so, this is it, huh?” you joked, grinning at him as he squatted down to your level, ripping off his mask. he shook his head sideways, indicating ‘no’, as his eyes began to fill with tears.

he wondered how you weren’t crying. you were always so headstrong, so divinely brave that it scared him sometimes. “how?” he asked, carefully.

“there was a family i needed to save. it looked like the drone was going to kill them. i escorted them to safety but had to come back because there was another child, and i saved them too, but there was a price.”

drone. it was quentin, he had targeted you, and peter growled. for the first time you’d seen, despite being his best friend, a fire burned behind his eyes like no other.

“peter, if these are my last moments, i don’t want it to be seeing you angry.”

he nodded, and smiled down at you, pressing his hand against as many of your wounds as he could cover. he could feel the blood draining, and he wondered, still, how you looked so happy.

“i’m going to miss you, a lot,” he stated honestly, looking up to your eyes. something clicked, like there was something more he had been missing this entire time.

you knew that statement meant more. “i’m going to miss you, too.”

“i’ll miss you more,” he countered, a smile spreading upon his face, and despite it being full of despair, it looked good on him. it always did.

“i’ll miss you most,” you beamed, and he let out a small snort at your cheesy confession. he gave your hand a big squeeze, and you could feel your energy draining.

the pain began to take over, so with watery eyes and a large smile, you squeezed his hand back. your body slowly began to float away, but he was still looking at you like his life depended on it.

tears were running down his face, and for a minute, all that was heard was his sniffles as your blood slowly drained and your eyes drooped more and more, slowly fading . . .

someone from across the bridge, behind him, called his name out, but you could barely hear it, and he turned to them to shout something back, his body moving too far away for comfort.

without thinking, a divine intervention flowed through you like the universe depended upon it. you clutched his bicep to pull your head up just a little bit, and the words bounced off your lips without thought.

“don’t leave me, please peter.”

and that’s all you had to say, because he turned back to you without completing his sentence, and let out a broken sob before sniffling again. his throat felt like it was swelling, and as he sat there, words flowed through him like they were meant to from the very beginning.

“i would never leave you, [name]. you know that.”

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sol-korolevas · 5 years

Text

–––[reasons wretched and divine], part 1

pairing: quentin beck x reader; canon-divergent/soulmate au (but with a twist)

warnings: quentin being creepy and (future) minor violence

word count: 2.7k+

a/n: i’m an absolute fool and fell in love with a man i’ve yet to watch on the screen :// so not everything will be canon to the official movie and quentin and peter will be ooc. chapter one is going to be really dense and so will the next chapters. thank you for reading! i’m also tagging @emma-frxst, if you want to be on the tag list please inbox me<3

prologue chapter: x

people say that life is unfair. only the lucky few can get what they want while the rest slave away for years and years. your thumb hovers over the delete button to the rejection email. it was long past due for you to mull over just where did you go wrong. was it your resume? your cover letter? your portfolio of ideas you wanted to build but cannot because you lacked the funding? the impudent part of you wanted to put the blame on the people that sent you this rejection. but another, a dominant part of you that is still tethered to reality, forbids it. there isn’t anything you could do anymore but move on.

and so you become the sole volunteer non-parent chaperone to midtown high school’s summer field trip to venice, italy. you tuck in your phone and watch as ned and peter talk about the sights they want to see and listen to mj, who’s sitting next to you, pop bubblegum. you have half a mind to remind her that chewing gum isn’t allowed on the school bus, but your mind is constantly drifting off elsewhere. you heave a sigh as you lean down, one hand propping your chin up on your lap.

you catch yourself looking around again as the chatter of the students become white noise. you see peter attempting to catch mj’s interest by his command of european knowledge. ned seems to be acting as a backup in case peter stumbles. you brush a hand against your forehead, silently hoping mj could at least understand why peter is taking all the effort to talk to her. the scene reminds you of your high school days: you had such a stupid crush on a senior who every other person likes.

“peter hey.” you catch up to him just as everyone is exiting the bus. “look, i know you like mj and–”

“wait no, it’s not like that [name], i swear–” he cuts himself off as a deep red blush coats his cheeks. he’s sputtering out nonsense and waving his arms in front of him. a part of you wants to laugh and you do, barely holding it back as you press the back of your hand to your mouth. peter notices and manages to collect himself to stare at you as if you’re about to uncover more of his secrets. finally, he says, “don’t tell her, please?” he’s practically begging, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings as he clasps his hands together.

“nah i won’t, but you have to do your best and work harder-for her okay?” you said, rubbing a thumb against the corner of your mouth. “you got the romantic backdrop of venice so maybe confess before it’s too late.” you both stare at mj, who’s already taking pictures of every scenic building she sees alongside ned. you never thought she’s interested in doing this, but then again no one here had ever visited italy before.

peter certainly thinks about it, as he swings his arm back and forth and turns his gaze off to the ground. “yeah, right, i suppose i should soon, huh?” he glances at mj briefly before looking at you again. “wish me luck.” he mouths the last three words and you give him two thumbs up. the last time you see peter, he’s running to his friends with an animated strut.

after everyone’s settled, and hopefully peter said something, you decide to take some time off and walk around venice for yourself. there’s something serene and even magical about walking through a city all on your own. it’s a good time to think about what to do later when you get home and find more companies where you can apply to. you take your phone out and open the photos app, before scrolling to a picture of the recent invention you made. it’s not complete, nor does it work, but the idea is there.

except wherein others want to make a name for themselves, you want to create works that can support heroes in their fight against extraterrestrial enemies. the only brainchild that you came up was for a single person to navigate time and space. the only problem was the lack of funding and interested investors. which wasn’t a problem actually, because you want to refine your own work more before you move to stage two. it’s going to be a tremendous project, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try.

a sudden explosion snaps you out of your thoughts and off your feet’s balance. you topple down onto your back and a broken scream escapes. debris and ash fall down onto you as you reach for your phone. thinking at first it’s an accident, you look around for people who can help. instead, you see yourself and the instigator of the explosion: a humanoid shape that is zigzagging among the thick smoke. something titanous is moving within and that individual is trying to take it down. green smoke unfurls around the man; it’s both beautiful and unearthly–you feel a sudden pang of nostalgia.

pain flares through your chest, forcing you to flip onto your stomach. did you hurt something there when you fell? that’s impossible because you fell backward and nothing pierced into it either. but as time passes, the pain begins to intensify, the worst of it erupting through your very heart. you couldn’t stand up now and your mind is hazy. somewhere in the distance, a monstrous roar echoes, shaking the ground and the surrounding. you want to collapse and let everything fade away, but it’s easier to wish than to see it happen.

distant footsteps are coming towards you and maybe it’s the person who was fighting the monster or someone else. they gently turn you over and you see him, you really see him; he’s not alien-looking or does he look anything special. but something about him makes your heartbeat and another resurgence of pain courses through. a voice is trying to talk to you, but it’s not yours, no, it’s a voice deep within your mind that doesn’t belong to you in the slightest.

“i’m here, you’re going to be alright now,” the man says, placing one hand underneath your head. he holds you and you’re reminded of the heroes you see in television. except none of them looks tender with the civilians, not even captain america. then, it suddenly occurs to you that the voice inside your head is the same as his own. you remember your childhood, playing with an imaginary friend when no one else is looking. they had the same voice as his.

you must be going insane from this pain.

when you wake, you’re in an infirmary that doesn’t look right. instead of white sterile walls, you think you see what looks to be the insides of a cave. it’s dark save for the lights that keep it from getting any darker. a shape is hovering over you as you come to before you notice peter’s worried gaze staring at you. there’s a deep-set frown on his face when you lock eyes with him before his face falls.

“[name] i can explain, i’m–”

“you’re spiderman?” you cut him off with a calm response. your gaze travels down his body, where he’s still in his full suit minus the mask that’s clutched in his hand. peter is saying things again, trying to tell you not to tell anyone and that others know too, like ned and mj. but instead of listening, you look around, trying to look for someone else. so without hesitation, you stand up, body briefly struggling to hold itself together until peter comes to your side and supports you.

peter quickly explains what happened after you fell unconscious. apparently, the blip caused several holes to open in various parts of the world. strange creatures called elementals were able to cross over to earth and wreak havoc.

“-oh and, i made a new friend.” he gently tries to usher you to a chair, but you remain standing as the familiar caped man you saw appears in your vision. you gape, not knowing what else to do besides look. he doesn’t have his helmet on so you can see his facial features clearly. he’s handsome, that you will give him, but he looks familiar. nevermind that his voice is the same as the voice you came up for your imaginary friend as a child. but his face is identical to the dream encounters you once had as a child too-of a tall man with broad shoulders.

“this is mr. beck,” peter says, trying his hardest not to sound excited. he steps aside for the man to walk forward. you don’t respond at the moment because the familiar hum of pain is making your heartbeat harshly. you should have told peter off for allowing beck the room to come forward but it’s useless now. fortunately, the pain isn’t as bad as before, but you still place a hand over your chest. the attempt is in vain, but it gives you some semblance of peace.

“a pleasure to meet you, [name]–call me quentin,” comes his answer, before reaching a handout. you look down at it and you slowly take it. quentin doesn’t shake it, instead, he leaves his hand wrapped around yours, the entirety of it swallowing your hand. you want to pull away, but you couldn’t. maybe it’s because you’ve never felt such warmth before or maybe it’s…

“am i that strange to look at?” quentin says, chuckling. there’s a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. immediately, you retract your hand and offer a feeble apology. the pain is dulling now, but the fact that it still exists disturbs you.

“...you remind me of someone,” you tell him, eyes carefully roaming over his costume. now that’s different, you think. when you dreamed and saw him, he was wearing civilian clothing. you could remember them clearly, just a dirty plaid shirt and cargo pants too worn out to be considered functional. your mind’s no longer telling you the person in your dreams was someone else. they had to be quentin; they had to be.

this response from you elicits a reaction from quentin, as he lifts one eyebrow and leans forward slightly. your eyes dart to peter, who looks unsure of what to do with his presence. from the looks of it, even peter cannot help you out this time.

then, you chance a look back to quentin and notice the little things. you try to tell yourself that you’re judging too harshly–appearance doesn’t mean anything and all–but you still feel troubled. you recall the way people look at you, strangers and those who really know you. and it’s not just anyone for the latter, but someone who manages to find their way into your life by all means–yeah, quentin reminds you of that. there’s a dry lump in your throat that you force yourself to swallow.

“uh, should-should i do something?” peter’s jittery voice cuts through the silence. his interruption was much needed, for it opened a chance for you to slowly stand up and put some distance between quentin and yourself.

“i believe fury wants me to fully introduce myself to you actually,” quentin says. he moves and out of the corner of your eyes, you watch him position himself so his back is turned towards you. you hold your breath for a moment, hands clenching into loose fists before you relax, telling yourself you’re overthinking. “i’m here to tie up some loose ends and help get rid of the elementals. so if my presence discomforts anyone, please feel free to ignore me.”

he doesn’t look over his shoulder or make any other move. quentin’s talking to peter but you know he means you as well. but it’s not like you’re going to see him after this. whatever this is that you’re caught up in must be something too important for a mere civilian to get caught up in. maybe they’ll find a way to wipe your mind of this or...or–

you notice the space where peter situated is empty and quentin himself has turned towards you. “don’t be scared of me, i’m here to help.” his voice is soft, but you think it feels deceptive. you know better but you still look into his eyes, the whites of it a touch too much for you to feel pacified by his words. you’re uncomfortable now, especially with the lingering pain and a tired mind.

“i’ve also seen some of your inventions-the ones you’ve sketched i mean.”

quentin’s words snap you out of your thoughts. for a moment you feel stunned, unsure of how to react. your mind is searching for words to respond to, something like a quick thanks. even the easy things are hard to come by, especially since you never expected him to say this.

his lips form into a small smile. to you, it looks more like a smug grin.

“thanks, i guess,” is your response, though slow and soft, “they’re funny to laugh at.” you look at the floor before you feel quentin’s hand lightly touching yours, just a carefully brush of his fingers against your knuckles. you immediately pull away, sure that this is verging on inappropriate.

“i would love to find out more about your inventions and yourself, if you don’t mind.”

you suck in a deep breath and find what little courage you still have. “sorry, i have to think this through.”

you don’t look at him, but you know he’s still watching you with that sense of knowing on his face. so you head back to your room for the time being.

eventually you realize things are not as simple or easy. someone–and you know who–manages to convince the ones in charge to keep you here for the time being. gradually, despite your best efforts to leave, you are asked to stay with the promise of an internship in the future. peter even says this could be an internship too, although it’s unconventional.

and because you stayed, you need to acclimate to your environment and those around you. peter’s not always present and when he is, he’s quick to be sent off to work. you’re not sure what midtown is told about your situations but you’re sure that’s unimportant right now, especially when the safety of earth is at stake again.

fury and maria, two agents you were just acquainted with, were better companions than quentin. you learned about the man, dubbed mysterio by peers, was from another earth similar to yours. he lost his own family, which you are honestly sympathetic for, and came here to seek vengeance.

he’s always close physically, sometimes trailing behind you just to talk to you. before long, you forced yourself to get used to his presence. with that, a certain reckless boldness.

“why do you always insist on following me?” you ask, hoping it doesn’t sound biting. but it did because you’re gritting your teeth and your mind’s on edge. “we just met, mr. beck, and believe me i really want to know so please tell me as it is.”

there’s that same blank look on his face. but you see the set of his jaw and the way his fingers twitch. “you remind me of someone close to me.” for a second, you hear his voice crack and his facade break. his mouth is pressed into a thin line, as if he’s trying to hold back more words. “the way you like building things, your demeanor, and even your voice–they are just like you.” then, as if trying to touch something sacred, he brings a hand up and brushes it along your cheek. immediately a sliver of pain follows his trail of touch. you wince, hand raising to grip at his wrist.

“i’m not, sorry,” you say in a shaky voice. then, you gently push his hand down and the pain slowly subsides. still, a dull throb persists in your heart’s core but you’ve learned to manage it. then you turn your gaze away, eyes keeping to the way his hands dropping to his side. “but i hope you find them in this timeline.”

you think back to quentin’s words: feel free to ignore me. that’s what you should do from now on. ignore him and let all the negative feelings trail away.

you run before quentin can catch you just as the pain bursts from your heart.

you cannot stand being here anymore.

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #mysterio x reader #mysterio #spiderman far from home #jake gyllenhaal #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mysterio imagine #quentin beck imagine #spiderman

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