#maybe bc the grub thing is fresh on my mind

[macklives]

oh lmfao you all CRAZYYYY

so psa to all 13 year olds reading this or anybody wanting to know my opinion on the matter:

i mean, guess it depends on the maturity of the person, but apparently a lot of people are 13 and that is actually shocking to me considering how far homestuck goes with its information and jokes/innuendos

tho since im in my twenties, pretty much a decade older than you being 13, i dont exactly remember what i had read at that age besides binging danny phantom and recess. and in itself, the movies/shows had innuendos anyways to please the parents watching with the kids. so i dont technically mind. tho i do think the older you get, the more teenagers are seen as kids rather than individuals. even tho 13 is still mature enough to make decisions and realize whats bad from wrong. or is that just me?

i dont necessarily believe you all shouldnt be allowed to read homestuck, free world amirite, like good for you for reaching out to smth. im not gonna mother anybody, thats not my job, but i will cautiously warn people. be careful with whats presented to you on the internet when it comes to fandoms, and uhh dont think too hard on what the innuendos mean

there was also no need for this longish post, but i felt it was just needed to have been said at some point

[dammit-stark]

Ooo ooo, an au i loooove is flower shop au! Where one character runs a flower shop and flowers with symbolic meanings are used- ugh the fluff/flirting potential 🥰🥰

fun fact: i’ve somehow managed to never write a flower shop au before this??? which is absurd bc it’s a friken classic so this was super fun I really enjoyed this hehe

SEND ME YOUR FAV AU AND ILL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE :)

...

He knows that it’s Pepper’s birthday. He knows because she told him a week ago, pointedly inserted it into all of his various calendars, threatened him with violence and selfish resignation as his assistance. He knows it’s her birthday.

Still, the morning of when JARVIS alerts him that he forgot to get Pepper a present, it catches Tony by surprise.

“Fuck,” He says, rubbing his face as he sits up in bed, “JARVIS, what am I supposed to get her?”

“I’m afraid you did not program me to be able to advise on gift giving, sir,” JARVIS replies, and Tony, his infernal creator, knows it’s said with joyful malice, “But if I may suggest something. Miss Potts has expressed an appreciation for fresh flowers in the past. Sir.”

Tony sighs, pulling on the nearest pair of pants, “You’re a life saver, JARVIS. Send Pep a happy birthday message, will you?”

“Very well, sir.”

“I’m gonna get some flowers. Don’t tell her I forgot.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony grabs his keys and opens the front door, stopping with one foot over the invisible jamb, “And stop mouthing me, JARVIS. You might sound polite, but I programmed you, I know when you’re sassing me.”

JARVIS is tellingly silent. Tony closes the door behind himself.

So, flowers. Flowers. How hard can flowers be? He passes four flower stands on his way to the burger joint he likes a block from the tower, and he’s positive there’s a quaint little shop the next block over. Surely, he can figure this out.

Except when Tony gets to the shop, a pink and blue awning hanging over him like an insufferably ironic storm cloud, he’s at a complete loss.

Would she like pink or blue? Roses or carnations? Tulips? Lilies? Daisies? Something yellow? Maybe something orange like her hair? Would she be offended by that? Probably. Isn’t there a green thing she likes? Surely, she’s mentioned it before. It’s gotta be somewhere in the recesses of Tony’s unfocused brain, somewhere.

He’s standing at a loss in front of a vibrant display that looks distinctly like the photoshop color picker exploded.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Sorry?”

“I get enough of that from my robots, I don’t need it from- attractive flower salesman. Hi. Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

Aforementioned flower salesman blinks, and Tony notes with satisfaction the dee blush high on his cheeks.

“Uh, can I help you find something?”

In a moment, Tony’s moving again, hands fluttering, mind whirring, mouth working without the rest of his body’s knowledge, about as per usual. He picks up a colorful bouquet of various wild flowers, smells it, and puts back with a scrunched nose, “I need a birthday present for my assistant. Something that says ‘Thank you for being in my life. No I didn’t forget your birthday, see. Love you’.”

The salesman looks at his shoes when he talks, nodding, “Well we have a variety of flowers that can express love or lust. A mauve carnation, for example. Or coriander is a lovely way to express the same sentiment. Red roses obviously mean love, and calla lilies symbolize beauty. We can assemble you a beautiful bouquet with these if you would like.”

Tony scrunches his nose like he smelled another disagreeing flower fragrance, “I don’t think you understand. I was thinking of something a little more.. platonic. More gratitude and friendship than sex and love.”

Steve’s head shoots up from the spot on the floor that he had been all but staring a hole through, and his eyes are wide, “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t really bat for the same teams, if you know what I’m saying.”

The blush returns to Steve’s face, but there’s an excited, hopeful glint in his eyes. And when he speaks, the words come out faster, rushers “Daffodils and peach roses then,” He says with confidence, “Appreciation. Yellow roses, too, maybe. For friendship.

Oh! And we can’t forget about alstroemeria! Better known as Lily of the Incas, they’re beautiful flowers that are most popular in bouquets for platonic love and friendship. What do you think?”

Tony smiles, and Steve’s breath audibly hitches, it’d almost be funny if Tony wasn’t so wooed by all the flower talk, “That sounds great. I’ll take all of it in one big, gorgeous bouquet.”

Steve moves behind the counter, “It’s gonna be pricy.”

Tony’s responding grin is knowing and cool, and his eyes squint minutely at the corners with this joyfulness, “Don’t worry. I can cover it. How fast can you get it done? Can we make this happen today? I know it’s last minute, but this’ll really save my butt.”

Steve reads down the long list of invoice orders ahead of him. He looks up to tell Tony that it’s impossible and- “Give me two hours.”

Apparently his heart (and eyes, and dick) put Tony at the top of the list. Tony has no idea, just smiles cheerfully, and nods, pulling out a shiny black credit card from his back pocket. Steve had always thought the black card thing had been a myth, an urban legend made up by money-grubbing banks and capitalists, but when he slides the card through the machine, it doesn’t bounce.

“Alright,” Steve says as he hands the card back, “I’ll see you in two hours.”

When Tony opens the front door to leave, he wiggles his fingers in a funny goodbye and disappears back into the New York streets. He’s starting to be glad he forgot Pepper’s birthday in the first place, even if she potentially hates him forever for dropping the ball.

Two hours later, Tony returns, and the bell on the green painted door to the quaint shop rings as he enters. Steve is nowhere to be found. A grumpy-looking, long-haired curmudgeon mans the counter instead.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order for Stark,” Tony says with a charming smile, one hand coming down to slap the blue painted countertop.

The florist, his name tag reading BUCKY :) in big, ironic letters turns around still frowning, and roots around for Tony’s bouquet. When he turns around, he’s holding two bouquets. He sets them both on the counter. Tony stares at them.

“I’m sorry,” He says, pointing at the redder one of the two, “I only ordered one.”

Bucky points with malice at the unfamiliar bouquet, “Yeah, I know. Apparently this one’s on the house. It’s from Stevie.”

“Stevie, huh?” Tony quips, the corners of his lips turning into a smile.

“Steve, yeah.”

“Tell Steve to call me then. So I can thank him.”

Bucky shakes his head, looking boring and maybe even irritated. He points at the on-the-house arrangement, “His number’s on the card.”

Tony smiles and scoops both bouquets up into his arms.

“You guys really have great service,” Tony jeers, and Bucky continues looking unamused and uninterested, “Thanks, Bucky!”

When Tony gives Pepper her gift, she’s duly impressed by the thoughtful layers to it. Tony proudly tells her what all the flowers mean.

She watches him dubiously from over top the crest of flowers, “So who told you what to get me? Who do I really have to thank?”

Tony shakes his head and refuses to think about JARVIS or Steve (just in case Pepper secretly has mind reading abilities, you can never be too safe), “I did it all by myself, Pep. Come on, give me some credit.”

She still looks suspicious, her nose in a lily, but eventually she nods, “Yeah, sure. You pass. Even if you didn’t think it up yourself, there was obviously some forethought since you can’t just go out and get a custom bouquet the same day. Good job, Tony. You’ve set the bar for next year.”

Tony groans.

It’s quarter to eleven, and Tony’s been staring his own bouquet, carefully placed in a genuine crystal vase on his kitchen counter, for almost an hour now. He finally gets up the nerve to google the symbolism surrounding the flowers and-

They’re all variations on lust or pining. A couple that have alternate meanings of love that Tony tries not to dwell on. He carefully punches the number into his phone and presses dial.

“H-hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Who is this?”

“Tony Stark from the flower shop this morning.”

It sounds like something is dropped, something fumbled, and Steve’s a little breathless when he finally speaks, “Did you, uh, get my flowers?”

Tony’s smiling even though he knows Steve can’t see him, and it’s all kinda ridiculous, but he sees that beautiful bouquet in his kitchen and sees red roses behind his eyes, mauve carnations dancing in his vision, “Yeah,” He says, smiling like an absolute idiot, “I should give you some daffodils in exchange, I appreciated them so much.”

Steve snorts, and Tony imagines him smiling too.

“What? Is that not how it works?”

“I’m glad you appreciated them, Tony Stark. I meant it.”

Tony feels a feeling in his stomach, something like purple lilacs rising through him.

“Wanna go for dinner sometime?”

He imagines Steve’s smile looking like a field of daisies.

“I’d love to.”