#operation get dicked down 'nonnie where you at??? how's the dicking going?

[marc-spectorr]

Give me some Nathan Bateman content 😌

pairing: nathan bateman x reader

warnings: mentions of sex and sex machines, no smut tho lol

a/n: ask and you shall receive, nonnie. also this is way more than five sentences but it’s my first nathan drabble so here ya go!

“So…?”

“So?”

“So… what do ya think?”

Nathan flops down beside you as your mind wraps around the gift he’d planted at the foot of the bed.

Of course, you know exactly what it is. Your mind has temporarily short-circuited since your fuck buddy decided to build (and personalize?) this for you solely because he’ll be at a tech convention for two weeks, and three days ago, drunk-you had slipped out how much you were going to miss him.

“I-I can’t believe you made me a fucking sex machine.”

He grins smugly at your reaction, folding his arms behind his head against the pillows. “I’m still waiting to hear a ‘thank you.’”

You don’t indulge him. Not yet, anyway. You crawl to where the machine is to study its features closely. It looks like any other ordinary machine you could buy at an online sex shop. According to Nathan, you can control the speed of the motor with just a touch of the remote, adjust the angle of the thruster easily for a multitude of positions to try, and for some reason it has Bluetooth capabilities. Neat!

The cherry on top of this machine, however, is the silicone cock attachment to it. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you unscrew the fake, realistically flesh-colored dick from the device. The length, girth, and ridges of it are all too familiar to you, and when you finally realize what Nathan meant by personalized, he’s peering at you through his wire glasses with a smirk.

“Is this—”

“A perfectly casted mold of my cock for you to pleasure yourself with in my absence? Why, yes. Yes, it is.”

“You’re gone for two weeks, not two years,” you remind him, raising a brow.

Nathan sits up straight and runs a hand through his thick beard. “And? You can’t go two weeks long without sex.”

“Me?” You scoff incredulously. “Bateman, you can’t even last a day without stuffing your cock inside me.”

“Can you just say thank you and accept my gift so I can tell you one last thing about our very own fuck machine?.”

You roll your eyes and toss the dildo at Nathan, which he catches with ease. “Our?”

“Yeah, our,” he repeats as he scoots closer to the apparatus and screws back on the artificial cock. “Don’t think for a sec that you’re the only one who’s gonna have fun with this.”

“What do you mean? Are you gonna fuck yourself with it too when you get home?”

Nathan shakes his head, pulling out his phone from his pocket. You watch as he opens up an app on the screen, and that’s when it clicks.

A gentle whirring begins to sound as the fuck machine operates to thrust into the air.

“Not only can I control everything from this app, but it’ll also let me watch you from the built-in camera I’ve installed right there, which will make phone sex a hundred times better. Cool, right?”

You don’t reply right away. You’re stunned that Nathan managed to draft and assemble all of this in just three days. He may be an asshole most of the time, but god, this man’s brain is astoundingly brilliant, and it leaves you gaping in awe.

“We’re gonna test it before you leave in the morning, aren’t we?” You ask him, already knowing the answer as he reaches for your pajama bottoms and hastily slides them off your legs.

“Damn right we are.”

“Good,” you add as you lay on your back with Nathan prepping you himself for the machine. “Oh, and by the way, thank you.”

✨ send me an ask with a sentence + a character and i’ll write the next five ✨

[princessfbi]

Bookshop AU + Character in Peril but for Madney Plssss

Bookshop AU + Character in Peril but for Madney

You, Nonnie, are speaking my language!

First Lines:

Maddie didn't understand how Buck always managed to lose his math book in their very own bookstore but he did. Every Monday morning she was left scouring their wide shelves of their tiny corner store looking for the wide brimmed spine with plastic red coloring that should stand out like a beacon in the middle of the second hand romance section but instead it blended in and stayed hidden from view.

The smell of the coffee that Buck was brewing to try and make up for again losing his math book was enough to ease some of the panic that itched under her skin as the press for time ticked down.

If you had told her that at age twenty-five she would own and operate her dream bookstore with a small cafe tucked in the side then she would've swooned on the spot and gotten lost in the fantasy.

If you'd told her that she would've taken her then twelve year old brother with her and ran across the country with only a handful of bags, a collection of collectable books she'd been saving since she was fifteen, and bruises on her skin that hurt down into her heart then she would've frozen up in terror.

If you'd told her that she would be looking for a sixteen year old's math book and found it sitting next to a copy of Little Women and a dog eared sun baked hardback of an Agatha Christie anthology then she would've laughed in your face.

Premise:

When Maddie flees from Hershey, PA and her abusive fiancé, Doug, she takes only what was important. Her passport, her few keepsakes, a handful of first editions she started accumulating when was she fifteen, and her twelve year old brother. With her parents trapped in their grief and hiding from Doug, Maddie and Buck arrive to the West Coast looking for a new start. Eventually, Maddie is able to open a small bookstore/cafe with an apartment above the store.

One day a cute guy walked in and ordered two coffees and a scone before taking a seat at the small table by the window so he could watch the door.

By the time he finished his scone and was halfway through the second coffee, it became painfully obvious that he'd been stood up. Taking pity on him, Maddie offers him another cup of coffee and that's how she finds out his name. Howie or Chimney as his friends call him. He's a firefighter paramedic and he'd raced him after a twenty-four hour shift to make it to a date with a girl who was more interested in the uniform than she was Chim.

It took Chimney three minutes to get Maddie to laugh. Full belly, tears streaming down her face laughing. She couldn't remember the last time anyone other than Buck got her to laugh that hard. It was nice to laugh again.

They spend hours chatting with Chimney watching as Maddie stood and took care of the store before dropping back down to pick up their conversation. She opens up about why she loves books so much and the comfort they bring. She grew up in a tomb from an age where she could remember what it was like to see light. Books were her escape; her chance to remember what light was like.

When Buck comes back from school he finds Maddie and Chimney totally wrapped up in each other. Chimney, a little confused as to why Maddie has a tall gangly sixteen year old, makes his excuses but asks if Maddie would be interested in getting dinner sometime.

Maddie, a little hesitant since she hasn't dated anyone since Doug, freezes and Buck answers for her.

"Yes," he says. "She's definitely interested."

"You only want me to go so I'll bring you leftovers."

So Maddie and Chimney get closer and it's incredibly soft and romantic and everything they deserve. Chimney takes Buck under his wing and introduces him Bobby and the firehouse. He notices the little hiccups that come with the Buckleys. How Maddie shuts down sometimes when she's feeling pressured. How Buck panics when he thinks he's messed up. But slowly Chimney's family takes in the Buckley family.

And it's good. Everything is good.

Then Doug comes to town.

Additional Notes:

There is something about the idea of Buck calling Maddie in tears because Doug has him that I wish we had gotten and if I wrote this AU that would happen (this is also because I would like to see a twist on the whole Domestic Abuse victim being the person in peril and instead would have the abuser underestimate them and have them go fucking feral because you know JLH would act the hell out of it)

Literally if Doug touched a single hair on Buck's head Maddie would've started swinging and I stand on this hill with my iced coffee like the stubborn Scottish Midwestern that I am

Maddie for Chimney's birthday does a 'Book that's like A Movie' display and it's totally cheesy and Chimney loves it

Feel like Doug would try to burn the bookstore down because he's a dick

Christmas at the bookshop is magical because Maddie literally makes it look like it came straight out of a Hallmark movie

The entire aesthetic is Madney with fairy lights and warm fires and joy. So much joy.

Maybe this would take place like starting at Thanksgiving and goes towards Christmas

Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

[meowmeowmessi]

Was Dean really so abusive towards Sam through out the whole series?

I have been seeing some Dean hate a lot 😔 about him being oh so abusive to Sam. I know most of it probably because of season 9 gaslighting. That was so in character for him tho, like he will do anything to prevent Sam from dying. His whole character is protecting Sam, I’m not sayin what he did right in anyway, but I understand... he was desperate. And all the violence was when he was under the influence of the mark. I can’t seem to recalll anytime when he was downright abusive towards Sam. Was he?

Aw nonnie, don't feel down -- there's still plenty of Dean love to go around! *hugs*

Since you brought up s9, I'll start from there! Personally, I agree with you. I know it's a horribly unpopular opinion and Sam stans will crucify me for this one (which is something I find myself saying a lot lately.......), but I wasn't at all shocked or offended by what Dean did in s9. I mean, was it horrible? Yes. Fucked up? Oh yeah, definitely. Probably the most fucked up thing one brother has done to another in the whole show imo. But what were you expecting? It's Dean. Dean NOT stuffing an angel inside Sam to keep him alive and instead letting Death reap his soul would've been ooc as hell??? Jensen said so himself, Sam is the brother who has the strength to live on without Dean, not Dean (not that it means Sam loves him any less, ofc not. Just that they love in different ways). Once again, Dean gaslighting Sam was pretty horrifying, I won't deny it, but spn isn't a sunshine and rainbows kind of show. Sam and Dean's codependency is fucked up, but it's FICTION, so you can't apply your everyday logic to them. Now an argument can be made that the narrative during that arc was pretty skewed by being quite partial to Dean. Having Dean realize what he'd done wrong and apologize would've been nice and restored balance to said narrative, but we didn't get a chance to see that bc Dean went and took on the Mark, and the rest you know pretty well. Honestly? I kind of don't care anymore bc it's clear that after s10 (aka starting from s11) Dean has improved SO MUCH and I think his extra protectiveness of Sam in s11 was partially a result of the guilt Dean might have felt over the whole MoC deal and turning-into-a-demon-and-nearly-killing-Sam business. My humble opinion is that post s10 Dean has had significant growth and trying to hate on him by bringing up shit he did in the previous seasons is pretty juvenile.

For example: I stumbled upon a meta once about what a dick Dean is bc in s15 he tricked Sam into eating bacon by telling him it was actually veggie burger and equating it with the whole Gadreel mess and I was like ?????????? Are y'all high???????? I agree that a person's dietary preferences should be respected without question, but maybe take off your Literature Student Glasses for one goddamn second and try to see the scene for what it is? A big brother joking around and messing with his little brother to cheer him up? It's not that deep dude. Idk what to tell y'all, but siblings do be like that.

The Gadreel thing and the MoC issue aside, another thing bitter Sam stans bring up to paint Dean as "abusive" is the panic room incident of s4. Which is... pretty iffy, ngl. Bc when I was watching s4 I myself hated Dean (and Bobby) for putting Sam in the panic room without even telling him. It was pretty cruel. And while I STILL have gripes about it, I think it's just another example of how the show is fucked up, Sam and Dean's dynamic is fucked up (said with affection), and how Dean treats Sam like his possession. Sam is his. He gets to decide Sam's fate. He will revive Sam, he will (almost) kill Sam, and the authority to make those decisions is his, not Sam's. Bc once again, in Dean's eyes he pretty much owns Sam. After all, he's his little brother. Fucked up, yes, but you're kind of an idiot if you expected anything healthy out of these two.

And there's Dean hitting soulless Sam in s6 when he tells him there's something wrong with him. The thing is, Dean didn't give a shit about soulless Sam. None. Once he realized that Sam's soul was missing he was hell bent on getting it back, and he didn't give a flying fuck about the soulless version of his brother. And soulless Sam knew that. Imo Sam at that point was just an empty shell to Dean and he didn't care about hitting him and hurting him. Bc the one he really cared about was the Sam WITH his soul intact. Dean was positively BEAMING when Sam got his soul back and was acting like his usual empathetic self again and not the cold soulless one. And he was so so careful with him after Death erected the wall in his head. Hell, Dean temporarily died to make that deal with Death. How could you possibly say that Dean doesn't love Sam?

Other minor things that bitter Sam girls/Dean haters use to prove that Dean is "abusive" include: Dean punching Sam in s2 (in the episode where they meet Gordon for the first time. Can't recall the name of the episode rip). Dean was hurt and angry and grieving John, and yeah, maybe that's not any reason to hit Sam, but he's human. He's more prone to violence than Sam is. Doesn't make him abusive. Siblings hit each other all the time, dude. It ain't that big of a deal. And Dean even apologized afterwards. And Sam FORGAVE HIM. Same goes for Dean punching Sam in s7 imo. Anger born of worry and all that.

And lastly, one meta madness I've seen is how Sam flinches whenever Dean has an outburst of anger. Some people use this as proof that Dean (and throw John in the mix too why don't you -_-) abused Sam as a kid and that's why he reacts that way. Which is such utter bullshit lol. Sam has PTSD. He flinches at the sound of closing doors, when he hears sudden footsteps, and just any abrupt noise in general. It has nothing to do with Dean aBuSiNg him as a kid and everything to do with the trauma he suffered throughout his life as a hunter (and then there's the Cage. And the multiple times he's been sexually assaulted. And on and on and on...) (and the reason why Dean doesn't have the same reaction as Sam is bc the symptoms of PTSD are different for everyone, bc rest assured, he too has trauma).

This is just my personal opinion tho! You can think whatever you want, but for me, Sam and Dean's relationship really can't be judged based on our standards of "normal". The things they do to (and for) each other are all part of their codependency. So no, I don't think Dean is abusive to Sam. He's done shit that can be called abusive, sure, but Sam and Dean operate on a moral compass that's completely different from our own, and we have to consider their actions with that in mind.

[starkeristheendgame]

Hi! Are you still taking prompts? If yes, can you do a Starker one, where Tony is oblivious, and Peter doesn't know what to do, and ask for help to a close friend of Tony and they try to make him jealous by pretending to date and Tony is like of course he is with him he's everything i'm not and having a total breakdown and peter realize that they hurt tony instead and ask for forgivenes and end up together, pleasee? Thank you! If you aren't please just ignore this!

Against my better judgement, my prompts are never closed! Thank you so much for this super sweet/angsty prompt, Nonnie! I realised after finishing this that I never directly included Peter asking for forgiveness, but I hope this feeds you just the same! ❤

TW: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Self-worth issues | Jealousy | Alcohol mention

SFW

Harley Keener is two years Peter’s senior and nicer than Peter could have ever imagined. When Tony had first started to talk about the ‘the first one he pseudo-adopted’ and how Harley had grown into more of a ‘mini me’ than he could’ve imagined, Peter had felt an uncomfortable twist in his gut. 

What if Harley was better than him?

What if Tony liked Harley more?

What if, with Harley around, Tony didn’t want Peter around anymore?

He needn’t have worried, though. Harley wasn’t as ‘outwardly’ nerdy as he was, but he was more than happy to gush over the latest Star Wars LEGO offerings, and Tony snarked them both in equal measure. It was surprisingly like having another Ned around, and it took less than a week for Peter to feel stupid for having worried about his place besides the two of them. 

Tony even joked that Harley was the ‘prototype’ and Peter was the ‘updated model’, to which Harley had just rolled his eyes, knocked Tony’s spanner off the table like a cat and gone straight back to talking to Peter about ComicCon.

They became fast friends, and Peter supposed that was somewhat why he tended to forget there was a second person in the lab with them here and there, starkly (heh) reminded of it when Harley flopped down next to him on the penthouse couch one evening and said; “so how long have you been in love with Tony?” 

He could have cried. The Avengers he was around almost every other day for the past two years brushed off his doting as a hero complex and ‘mentor crush’ and it had taken Harley Keener less than three weeks to call him out on its true nature. 

Naturally and mortifyingly it ended up with Peter sniffling against Harley’s shoulder, wailing about how Tony was out of his league, how every single possible thing that could was against them, and how worst of all; Tony wasn’t interested. 

“He’s interested,” Harley had shrugged, gingerly plucking a tissue from the box and holding it out to him. He’d been somewhat cryptic about the basis of his statement, but had enthusiastically proposed a manner of ways in which it could be proven. And Peter…

Peter agreed to one. 

He didn’t know why. He wasn’t exactly a glutton for punishment and he certainly didn’t get his kicks out of being humiliatingly, crushingly rejected, but...But Harley had said so make jealous. Tony always wants everything, and when he thinks he can’t have something he just tries harder to get it and Peter had inexplicably said yes. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, Peter didn’t quite know which) the only real, viable option was...Harley himself. None of the other Avengers would work; since they were all taken, straight and/or highly unlikely to be receptive to fake-dating a teen half (or more) their age. 

Neither Ned or MJ had access to the Tower or could really be around any SHIELD, Stark or Avengers activity, and that left quite literally no-one else but Harley. 

“I mean, in a way, its perfect. I’m the grandmaster of the plan anyway, and you don’t have to wordy about hurting my feelings or me falling for you. We can collaborate flawlessly to get you some Grand-Daddy dick,” Harley hummed around the stick candy in his mouth, and Peter wasn’t quite sure what part of that sentence offended him the most. 

“Does literally nobody want me?” he pouted, bottom lip pushed out dramatically as he kicked Harley’s leg out of the way and picked up the PS5 controller. 

“Hey, chin up, munchkin. You’re prettier than half the girls I know. I’m just not wired that way.”

“You’re straight?”

“I’m not anything. It’s like asexuality and aromantic, but both,” Harley pulled a face, clearly trying to remember the term, then shrugged. “Ah, I can never remember it. Anyway, point is, I’m not interested in anyone. You’re a little cherub, for sure, but you’re cute like a cat, not suck-my-dick cute.”

And, well. Cute like a cat? He considered that a high compliment. 

Thus, Operation Get That Grand-Daddy Dick (Peter did not name it) was underway. They both agreed to keep it natural and subtle, since Tony walking in on them half-naked or all over each other was just likely to spook him off. They’d edge into it; hint that they were spending more time together, act a little cosier, maybe get caught holding hands after a week or two. 

In truth, it wasn’t all that different to how they had been before, except that Harley made his smiles even softer, a little more secretive and let his gaze linger when he was sure Tony would notice. They sat and stood closer together than before, and here and there Harley would press a lingering hand to his back or arm. 

They made sure when one or both left they secreted away just out of sight and took a little too long, standing close together by the elevator and making sure to hug ‘longingly’ (whatever that meant in context) should Tony happen to peek. 

And yet for all his smarts, Tony didn’t seem to particularly notice anything amiss until the first time that he spotted them ‘romantically hugging’. Harley was actually a very good hugger, and they stood in front of the elevator together, with Peter facing it and Harley facing the lab. Harley had his chin over Peter’s shoulder and his hands low and tight on his waist, holding him close. 

“Spotted,” Harley whispered quietly, and moments later Tony spoke up. 

“Well that looks cosy.”

Tony’s voice was carefully level, no betrayal of emotion as Peter shyly disentangled himself from Harley, taking a step away as though caught doing something he shouldn’t. He didn’t have to fake the heat in his cheeks when he glanced up at where Tony stood, arms folded, and he fumbled with the strap of his backpack, glancing across at Harley before he gave Tony a meek smile. 

“Um, I’ll-- I’ll see you Friday, Mr. Stark!” he chirped, shuffling around Harley and into the elevator. Tony was still staring at him as the doors began to close, and Harley turned, casting him a wink and a finger-waggling wave. Peter waved back sheepishly and the moment the doors were shut, he whipped out his phone. 

[To: Thing 1] Did he look mad? It looked like he looked mad. Omg. U gotta tell me anything he says :// [19:31]

Harley did in fact text him back two hours later, though there wasn’t much to report. Tony had made a few flippant remarks that could either be parental interest or slight jealousy, and had dropped the subject after a short while in order to focus on his latest project.

Peter slumped. There was snails who had a faster moving love life than he did. With a groan, he stuffed the last of his anxiety snacks in his mouth and flopped back against his pillow to discuss the next step with Harley. 

Social media was their next plan of attack. Tony followed Peter on Instagram and Twitter, and had his Snapchat even if the older man rarely used the platform, so they were going to up the pressure by hanging out outside of the lab (which they did anyway) and posting it to social media. 

It was too soon to cancel plans with Tony to hang out with Harley (and frankly, Peter didn’t want to anyway) so they simply both made themselves unavailable on certain other days, or hung out together without mentioning it to Tony beforehand. 

They got ice cream at the park, went to the art museum downtown, visited several different cultural/ethnic based stores and went to the arcade to kick ass at air hockey over the course of a few weeks, all while keeping up the poorly secretive touching and closeness at the lab. 

And he’d still have more luck getting blood from a stone.

Tony seemed...Either completely oblivious, or just completely unphased. Whilst Peter caught him watching them here and there with an unreadable expression, Tony never directly asked them or overtly commented on what was happening. There was the odd, “enjoy the park yesterday, kid?” or “saw your post the other day, you should try this place next,” but never anything along the lines of what Peter hoped for. 

Even Harley was starting to doubt his original statement that Tony was definitely interested. 

Especially when Tony was the one who started cancelling plans, telling them both to ‘go enjoy themselves’ and ‘live the lives of young people’. He didn’t do it all the time, but here and there they’d both receive a text telling them not to come today. The lingering looks got longer and more weighted, but even so, Tony made no move in either aspect. 

“I think I’m just gonna have to give it up,” Peter admitted to Harley one night over the phone, hanging upside down in his bedroom with the phone dangling on a web besides him. 

“Maybe he’s just not ready for anything right now?” Harley suggested on the other end, between the frantic sounds of tapping buttons. 

“Maybe-- Oh, hang on. I’ve got an inbound from JARVIS. It might be Avengers stuff,” Peter hummed, quickly twisting to tap on the screen to accept the incoming call from JARVIS. 

“Hey, J. What’s up?” He greeted the AI, blinking at the call screen. 

“Apologies for the disturbance, Mr. Parker, but protocol deems that when Mr. Stark is in distress I establish contact with someone on his emergency list in order to inform them.” The AI’s voice was as smooth and unhurried as ever, but Peter frowned at the screen. 

“Distress?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker. Sir’s heart-rate is elevated and he is displaying significant symptoms of sadness, including light drinking, darkened lighting and angered viewing of your social media.”

“Angered viewing of my social media?” Peter echoed, fear ratcheting up as he dropped from the ceiling and moved to tug on a pair of shoes. Fuck, had he let something sip? Was there something in the background of his photos? Had someone figured out who he was? He was hopping towards the door on one foot when JARVIS spoke again, and he had to hop back to pull his phone down from the web. 

“Why is he sad over that? Did I do something wrong?”

JARVIS was silent for a short while, as though the AI was debating on how best to respond. 

“I... Believe Sir may be feeling lonely. Or unworthy of company. There have been a multitude of such instances over the past several years,” JARVIS replied after a pause, as Peter locked the web shooters around his wrist and tugged the Spiderman mask over his head to avoid any cameras, crawling out of his window and leaping out into the brisk air. 

It didn’t take long to swing to the Tower, especially not when panic and concern had him pushing it, testing his muscles and leaving him slightly out of breath by the time he slipped onto the top landing console. 

JARVIS directed him through to the penthouse and up the set of 12 steps that lead to the ‘upper level’ of it, to an open doorway that revealed Tony Stark sprawled out on his bed, staring blankly at his phone with a neglected, half-open bottle of whiskey loose in one arm, like a newborn babe. 

“Mr. Stark?” he asked softly, and Tony’s gaze flit up to him, clearing immediately. His mentor cursed and jerked upright, almost sloshing the whole bottle over his bedding. 

“Shit! Kid! Wh’r you doin’ here?” Tony’s voice was just hinting on slurred, the same easiness and lack of concentration that came when you’d had a shot too many. Or five. Peter’s heart cinched as he stared at Tony gingerly putting the bottle on the bedside table, at the redness of his eyes and the messiness of his hair where he’d been running a hand through it, over and over. 

“JARVIS called me. He said you were sad,” Peter managed after a moment, hands wringing the mask between his fingers nervously. He’d never seen Tony like this, this...uncomposed. He looked haggard, tired and sad, and it made Peter feel empty and adrift, unsure of how to approach this new version of the man he loved. 

“Fucking snitch,” the older man grumbled half-heartedly, and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Shit. Don’t-- Ignore me, kid. Adults my age are entitled to a night like this once in a while. Go back home, I’m fine. Fuck, you didn’t leave Harley for this, did you?”

“Harley?” Peter parroted, brows furrowing as Tony waved a hand. 

“Go on, kid. Get. Make the most of being young and pretty with someone young and pretty.” Tony reached for the bottle again and Peter found himself striding across the room, placing himself in the way of Tony’s outstretched hand and the whiskey. Tony’s fingertips brushed his stomach and recoiled like he’d been burnt by the contact.

“Mr. Stark, do you think I don’t want to hang out with you anymore?” he asked after a moment, voice fragile. God, he’d hoped to maybe make Tony a little jealous, but nothing like this. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him. And he clearly had. There was nothing but rawness in Tony’s eyes when the older man looked up at him. 

“I’m not taking it personally,” his mentor attempted to joke, but it came out bitter and too flat to land lightly. Peter’s heart cinched in his chest and he shuffled to sit on the edge of the large bed, teeth on his lower lip as Tony turned away from his gaze. 

“Mr. Stark, I’ve never...I’ve never not wanted to hang out with you. Even if I have other friends, too,” he pointed out tentatively, and Tony scoffed lightly. 

“You’re too good for a world like this, shortstack. For someone like me. You should be trailing after someone like Captain Uptight,” Tony muttered lowly, and Peter scowled.

“You’re not less better than he is. Both of you are good people. Both of you make mistakes. Both of you save the world.”

Tony’s brows pinched, and he breathed out something that just barely sounded like then why aren’t I good enough?

Making an executive decision, Peter toed off his sneakers and crawled further up onto the bed, picking up Tony’s arm and settling down against his side, curling up under his arm and wrapping his own around Tony’s waist. 

He could feel Tony’s heart thumping wildly in his chest, could feel his breath hitch and the hesitant way that Tony let his arm settle over Peter, fingers curling in his hoodie. 

“You are,” he offered simply, squeezing gently. “This is my fault. I was acting like a dumb kid, and I thought... I should’ve known that it was just gonna end badly.”

“Is being my mini-me really that bad?” Tony choked out, and Peter pushed himself upright, alarmed. 

“What? No! Mr. Stark, being around you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t ever ever regret being around you! I just... I have to…” He trailed off for a moment, frustrated, then prayed to Harley for forgiveness and sucked in a deep breath. 

“I’m not actually dating Harley. At all. He doesn’t like people that way. Any people. We’re not boyfriends and I don’t want to stop spending time with you to spend time with him. I like spending time with you and you’re still my hero. Tony Stark or Iron Man,” he stated firmly. 

Tony looked at him for a moment, then looked away. 

“You should be with Harley, kid. Or someone like him. Not someone like me. Not someone with my history. I’m a shit person, kid. All this Iron Man stuff hasn’t even wiped half my scoreboard clean. Someone like Harley... He’s the better parts of me. Like you. He’s worth your love”.

Tony seemed almost startled at saying that word, twitching a little before he attempted to turn away from Peter again, gaze finding the far end of the room like he wished he was anywhere but here. 

Peter fidgeted, then sucked in a deep breath. “Please don’t hate me after this,” he fumbled out quickly, then rolled half on top of the older man, hands fisting in the front of his shirt as he leaned forwards. 

The kiss was awkward and clumsy and couldn’t have lasted for than two seconds before Tony pulled away, eyes wide and voice rough. 

“Kid, what-- You can’t--”

“If you say you’re not interested, I’ll respect that,” Peter interrupted. “Or if you say I’m too young or whatever. But if you say anything along the lines you of not being enough, or not being worthy, or-- or-- Or whatever it is you feel you aren’t... You’re wrong. The reason me and Harley were acting like that is because I was trying to make you jealous.”

“What-”

“And I know its dumb! I don’t it was childish and I never thought it would hurt you like this. But I’ve lo-- I’ve really liked you. For years. And I know you’re a lot older and we might never be able to be...To be...Normal. I guess. But I want whatever I can get with you, because you’re worth it,” Peter barrelled on, desperate to at least be heard before Tony kicked him out. Except when he trailed off Tony was just... Staring at him.

“It’s just... Hero worship. You still think I’m some magical superhero and you--”

“No offence, Mr. Stark, but you don’t know what I think. Not when it comes to you, clearly,” Peter cut in, cheeks heating at being so brash. Prior to this he wouldn’t have ever dreamed about being so direct and forceful against Tony. 

Well. Not in any PG-rated sense, anyway. 

“Just... We don’t have to talk about it now, okay?” eh offered, sliding off Tony just a little so he was back up against his side, wriggling around until he could grab the faux fur throw on the bottom of the bed, pulling it up over both of them. Tony remained quiet at his side, just watching as he got them both settled. 

“Just... I’m gonna stay, alright? Right here. With you. Because this is where I want to be, and its where I’m gonna stay until... Until you tell me to leave.” His lower lip threatened to wobble with mounting emotion as he lay his head on Tony’s chest, feeling the thick ridges of his scars beneath his shirt. 

A moment later, Tony’s hand settled lightly over his head, fingers sliding tentatively into his hair. 

“And if I never tell you to leave? If I’m selfish and never want to let you go?” the other man whispered. 

“Then I guess that makes us both selfish, because that would make me happy,” Peter mumbled into his chest, wrapping his arm tighter around Tony’s waist. The room went silent for a while, save for their breathing and Tony’s heart thumping beneath his ear. 

“Okay,” Tony rasped after a moment, and Peter smiled. 

“Okay, Hazel Grace.”

“...What?”

“Nevermind. You’re too old for that reference.”

“You’re a little shit.”

[moononastring]

ok so i really hoped i’d have a job update for you, but when i sent a follow up email a few days ago they said they have a few more candidates to interview, so i’m gonna be in limbo for a while longer! i just wanted to let u know i didn’t forget about you! 🫡

and in an effort to make this a more interesting update, here’s a lil scene from my real life slow-burn friends to lovers workplace romance:

we were working together on sunday, which wasn’t an easy day for him. but we were in the back office and i’d made some dumb joke. it made him laugh (which already is a simp’s cocaine) but then he stopped and looked over n said “thanks for making today as good as it could’ve been.” and like…. y’know when you’re reading a romcom and the main character says something to the love interest, and the author describes them making a choked / strangled noise of surprise…. and ur like ‘ i’m not sure human vocal chords can so that’ ??? well i’m here to assure u that they most certainly CAN. bc in response to that very sweet sentiment i made a noise that was 1) completely involuntary and 2) somewhere between an ‘awww’ and a whimper with a side of choking. and of course followed that by saying “stop that” ??? feelings aren’t my strong suit ok 😭😭

at this point i probably don’t have to tell him i like him bc whatever the fuck that was definitely did it for me

OKAY BUT yes, thank you for updating me HAHA.

Fingers crossed for you my darling! I hope you get that job!! YOU BETTER COME TELL ME!!!

Also, I'm dying at your little slow burn. You are a simp and I am living for you. BABES. BABESSSS. You gotta take the leap. Just do it. YOU MUST.

I mean, he probably picked up on it but ya know. this is cute. i love this look on you babes.

[fortunatelylori]

I love Jon and Sansa's not so sibling relationship and I love Theon and Yara's sibling relationship. I'm sure there are connections between the two. Can you list the ways in which they are foils? Thank you!

Hey, nonnie!

Sorry for taking so long to answer this. I’ve had to spend some time thinking about how I was going to tackle it because I’m not sure I’m quite the right person to answer this question. 

My main issue is that I don’t particularly like Yara as a character and I’m not all together happy with the way the show has handled the Yara/Theon relationship. 

So, please ignore me while I go on a rant about my issues with Yara and then I will go on to attempt to draw a few parallel/foil examples between Theon/Yara and Jonsa. 

I have a pretty hard time talking about Yara because in theory she’s a great character: she looks and acts badass but is still emotional and invested in the well-being of the people she cares about, she’s funny and charming and Gemma Whelan is a wonderful actress who looks and acts the part. However, that’s the theory and the actress. 

My problem with her is that in narrative terms, she’s very much a character that talks the talk but doesn’t walk the walk. If this was an in-story flaw, I’d have no problems with it but it isn’t. This is the writers wanting to have a badass female character but also not wanting her to overpower the male characters in the show. 

I’ll give you a few examples: 

Yara coming to rescue Theon from Ramsay 

I absolutely loved Yara standing up to her father, calling him a coward and saying she was going to save “her little brother”. However, she ends up at the Dreadfort and runs away the moment a shirtless man and his dogs scream at her. There was so much emotional build-up to that scene for it to fizzle out because the writers wanted to protect Ramsay not just from death, but from any significant injury/consequence.

Yara’s pitch for the Salt Throne 

Since her introduction, Yara has been presented as the real reaver in this story. Tough, able, brave, knowledgeable, we were lead to believe people whole heartily supported her and even more importantly that she knew exactly how to talk to these people and what she needed to do for them. Then Yara makes her pitch as queen and all of a sudden not only do people point to Theon as a better option because he’s male (even though they scorned him when he first showed up on the Iron Islands) but end up very quickly turning on her and picking Euron, a guy they haven’t seen in years, over her. But that’s not even the most egregious thing. We could always chalk that up to male privilege. 

The real issue is that when Yara makes her speech, she says very little of any real substance and then the moment she’s challenged, she becomes flustered. It’s up to Theon to make the salient points she should have made and then the writers give the truly revolutionary ideas to Euron who wants to develop and raise the Iron Born past the level of thugs they’ve been stuck in for centuries. 

Euron’s attack on the Blackwater

Yara is supposed to be a battle hardened naval commander but Euron manages to surprise her and defeat her with little to no effort. I don’t have an issue with Yara losing the battle but the entire set-up shows her as being incompetent because not only didn’t she think there was a chance they’d get attacked, she didn’t take any precautions in the likelihood that it would happen. 

Then there’s the Yara/Theon relationship and the two issues I have with that. :))) (Hang in there, nonnie! We’re almost done)

Yara’s sexuality and how that is used to shame Theon for not having a dick

Notice how almost all of the Yara/Theon scenes post-castration take place in brothels or situations where a woman is hitting on Yara? Don’t get me wrong. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the show celebrating and highlighting Yara’s love for women. However, that’s not really what they’re doing. They’re essentially using those moments for cringe comedy and as humiliation for the fact that Theon’s not able to partake because … he doesn’t have a dick! Get it?!? Look how sad he is! Get it?!?

Nor is this the show trying to have a commentary on the issue of Theon’s castration trauma (which would be great but alas) but rather this is a narrative punishment/joke. And I don’t really appreciate that. 

And then there’s this:

Yara: Listen to me. If you’re so broken that there’s no coming back, take a knife and cut your wrists. End it. But if you’re staying, Theon, I need you. We’re going to sail to Mereen. We’re going to make a pact with this dragon queen and we’re going to take back the Iron Islands. Are you with me? 

If this was a singular case in this series, I would chalk it up to Yara being callous and ignorant about the profound and lasting effects torture and PTSD have on a person. But Brienne gave Jaime a similar “tough talk” when she disapproved of him being depressed over having lost his hand. 

Brienne: Coward. One misfortune and you’re giving up? […] You have a taste of the real world, where people have important things taken from them and you whine and cry and quit. You sound like a bloody woman!

The message seems to be that all you need to get over trauma is a tough as nails badass woman screaming at you. Add some good ol’ fashion misogyny on top of it for good measure and you’re good to go. 

Had your hand amputated? Stop “whining”! Still unsure how to get passed systematic torture and castration? Either put a band aid on it or kill yourself, we’ve got important shit to do. Can’t possibly waste any time on empathy, understanding and emotional support. 

Again, I can’t really blame Yara or Brienne for that matter. This is the writers thinking that anyone who becomes a victim and doesn’t move past it as fast as humanly possible and also “toughens up”, is inherently weak. I hate that mindset and I hate the old “other people have it worse” argument. Yes, I’m sure other people have it worse. That is no reason to dismiss individual pain and how traumatic events in our lives affect us personally. 

Now that’s out of the way, let’s look at a few instances where Theon/Yara act like foils to Jonsa. These will be broad because I don’t think these two relationships are set-up in opposition to each other, the way Jaime/Cersei and Jonsa are:

The relationship dynamic and roles

Yara and Theon are very much a relationship that operates under the clear hierarchy of big sister/little brother. This was established the moment Yara was revealed as his sister and continues to this day. In the beginning this was highlighted by Yara making fun of Theon, proving she’s better than him but also giving him heartfelt advice at Winterfell and bonding with him over having a shitty father. It was carried over into Yara protecting or rather trying to protect Theon. 

Post-Ramsay, Yara is the leader that drags Theon after her. This inequality is further supported by Theon giving his claim to the Salt Throne in order to continue having a relationship with Yara. So in addition to being big sister/little brother, they’re also queen/right hand of the queen.  

These established roles are completely missing from Jon and Sansa’s relationship and, in many ways, this is the true source of their disagreements and tension. What are they? Are they big brother/little sister? Are they true born/bastard? Are they King in the North/right hand to the king? None really fit … Jon doesn’t submit to Sansa’s authority and she doesn’t submit to his. The only way their relationship works is if they behave as equals. Anything less, I think would be unacceptable for either one of them. 

Not only that, but rather than enforce an hierarchy, Jon and Sansa spend their time validating each other: 

Jon: We’re standing here because of you. I’ve had the Lord’s chamber prepared for you. 

Sansa: Mother and father’s room? You should have it. 

Jon: I’m not a Stark. 

Sansa: You are to me. 

Sansa: You’re good at this, you know. Ruling. 

Sansa: They respect you. They really do. 

Jon: You know Tyrion better than any of us. What do you think?

Sansa: You’re abandoning your people. You’re abandoning your home. 

Jon: I’m leaving both in good hands. 

Sansa: Whose? 

Jon: Yours. Until I return, the North is yours. 

Arguments

Yara and Theon have a very typical sibling/relatives relationship. They say the most vile things to each other and then move on as if nothing happened because that’s how family works. (Yara does most of the saying in these quotes but you get my meaning)

Yara: Why! It’s the Prince of Winterfell!

Theon: Envy isn’t attractive. 

Yara: You were a terrible baby, you know that? Bawling all the time. Never sleeping. And one night you just wouldn’t shut up. Screaming like a dying pig. I walked over to your crib. I looked down at you. I wanted to strangle you. 

Yara: I’m tired of seeing you cower like a dog. 

Yara: I need Theon. The real Theon Greyjoy. Not this rat shit pretender. 

Jon and Sansa, on the other hand, can’t get away with saying things like this to one another. Their relationship just doesn’t allow for it. And it isn’t because they’re not close or because they aren’t comfortable with each other. But rather that whatever one of them says/does affects the other very deeply. 

All through season 6, Sansa was in desperate need of validation from Jon. She takes it personally that he trusts Davos and Tormund and feels he prefers them to her. She gets angry that he didn’t specifically ask for her opinion prior to the battle. 

There’s also this: 

Jon: You sound like you admire her. [Cersei]

Sansa: I learned a great deal fromher. 

Look at that scene and tell meSansa isn’t hurt that Jon thinks she admires Cersei or isn’t affected by hisdisapproval. 

As well as: 

Jon: And how should I be smarter?By listening to you?

And Jon …

Sansa: He plays with people. He’sfar better at it than you. He’s been doing it all his life. 

Jon: Aye? And what have I beendoing all my life? Playing with broomsticks?!?

 Jon: When you question my decisionsin front of the other lords and ladies, you undermine me. 

Sansa: Jofferey never let anyonequestion his decisions. Do you think he was a good king? 

Jon: Do you think I’m Jofferey?!?

Notice how nothing they say toone another or do to one another is as bad as Yara calling baby Theona “dying pig”. And yet they can’t handle it. Even something as Sam gentlyattacking Jon saying that he “hates” him after Jon admits to being enviousof Robb would probably not work. I mean can you imagine Jon’s face if Sansa,even jokingly, told him she hated him. She’d be better off sticking a knife inhis neck. It would probably hurt less. :)))

The sexual component 

Even though I noted that thescenes of Yara enjoying her sex life is a ham fisted way of reminding theaudience of Theon’s lack of sexual organs, I think it’s important to note thatTheon isn’t affected by the idea of Yara either having sex or beingromantically involved with someone. 

That’s the kind of lack ofworry that Jon “If you touch my sister, I’ll kill you myself” Snow andSansa “do you think he wants to marry her?!?” Stark would probablyenvy. 

And on that note, one of themost interesting things that denotes the differences between these two is how thetwo relationships start: 

Yara and Theon’s relationshipstarts on a shared horse ride to Pyke, where Theon fondles Yara’s breasts andprivate parts all the way there only to be horrified when he realizes she’s hissister. Since then, their relationship has been completely platonic and neitherone of them has ever given any indication that they’d like to revisit thatparticular incident. 

Jon and Sansa, on the otherhand, start off as long lost siblings who very quickly end up enacting marriageceremonies (the cloak), having passionate fights in tents, lingering foreheadkisses and … (to be continued in season 8). :))))

[theliterateape]

A Life Lesson from the Frozen Mailman

By David Himmel

 Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

—   United States Postal Service “Motto”

Yesterday afternoon, WGN News reported that “Due to projected deteriorating weather conditions related to Polar Vortex Jayden, postal delivery operations will be suspended… As for delivery in the Chicago area, the USPS said the weather could ‘curtail’ delivery plans.”

No kidding. Wednesday, January 30, 2019 in Chicago will be one history remembers. This may be the coldest day any of us alive right now ever see. The experts are telling us to stay indoors. I’ll spend most of the day that way, but I’m also going to take a moment to layer up, throw on my dad’s hand-me-down full-length racoon fur coat and step outside because I want to feel it. I want to know what -50º F (accounting for the wind chill) fells like, tastes like, smells like, hurts like. Only a fool would pass up a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

For those of you concerned I’m going to take my 10-month-old son out there, you can relax. I am not going to expose his perfect flesh and pink lungs to this kind of extreme. He can resent me for it when he’s older.

Before I continue, let’s take a moment to talk about Polar Vortex Jayden. Jayden. You know who Polar Vortex Jayden is. He’s the androgynously gorgeous fifth grader with New Direction hair and ScarJo lips; his dad works in finance and is gearing up to retire in six years when he turns 48; his mom “works” — her words — as a Pilates instructor; they live in what might as well be the Home Alone house; they buy Land Rovers exclusively; Jayden is an incredible basketball player because his dad is an intense bleacher parent and Jayden doesn’t want to let daddy down; they give money to charity and attend the galas but have never been sighted volunteering; mom’s hero is Michelle Obama — the only black woman other than Oprah she knows by name; Jayden is the only kid in his class not on Adderall or the spectrum, and he’s also the only one who still wets the bed twice a month like clockwork. You know who Polar Vortex Jayden is. 

But let’s get back to the mail.

Chicago mail sucks. I doubt anyone will notice the curtailed delivery plans. And if we do, so what? Screw your mail. The Midwest is on pause for a few days so we don’t all die. And sadly, some of us will die

✶

The first time I remember experiencing a cold snap related to what we’re facing now was twenty-five years ago. I was a freshman in high school and it was during my first round of finals. I grew up within walking distance of my elementary, junior high, and high schools, and it was rare that my parents dropped me off or picked me up in a car. But this first finals day was brutal.

I don’t remember how cold it was. I’m confident that in comparison, it was a heat wave with today. But it was cold enough that my grandmother, who lived next door to me, picked me up shortly after noon when my tests finished, and drove me the few blocks home. Almost. She drove me to her home, which was one lot closer to the high school than mine. There was snow on the ground and it hurt to breath. My eyes watered as I walked across the yard from Nonny and Poppy’s house to my own. That’s when I felt something brush past me.

It was our town’s mailman. He had been the mailman my whole life. I didn’t know his name, but we were always friendly when we saw each other. He was friendly with everyone. The town loved this guy. He stomped through the snow blower pile and onto my driveway and b-lined it for the mailbox at my front door. I hurried to catch up with him.

Having dropped the mail in its box, he turned toward me to head to the next house. His thick beard was frozen. Stalactites formed of breath and snot clung to the whiskers. His nose looked like it had contracted frostbite. His lips quivered. His teeth chattered. His eyes were red and watery. He looked desperate.

I stopped him. “Hey. Would you like to come in for a few minutes? I can make you some coffee or hot chocolate…”

Desperation turned to hope, maybe gratitude. “No. No thank you.” He could barely get the words out. His jaw was icelocked.

“I could make a fire…” I realized it sounded like I was asking him in for a romantic tryst.

“Thank you. But I… I just need to finish my route.”

With that, he shot off across our yard to the Izzos’ house next door. The Izzos, I must tell you, were dicks. They would come banging on our door, screaming bloody murder whenever they saw yellow snow. They blamed it on our dog Max. We quickly stopped walking Max that direction but the yellow snow kept appearing. You know, because we weren’t the only family with a dog during winter. And, because late at night, I’d walk outside and take a piss in their yard.

Inside my house, warm and sure that I bombed both of my finals, I watched our mailman work his way down the other side of the street then, victorious, hop into his flimsy little mail truck that had been winterized with a flimsy door. And off he went.

✶ 

That mailman died a few years ago. He was old enough where people say he was too young to die. I don’t remember the cause of death, but I remember feeling really bummed about it. Because I think about that winter occurrence often. Most of the time, I admire him for his dedication to his job. Sometimes I wonder if I came on too strong. Perhaps it was neither. Perhaps it was more than just a job and more than some weird kid inviting him in for cocoa by the fire.

Perhaps he turned down my offer to warm up, thaw his beard, and revive his nose because he knew, as too many of us never learn or learn too late, that once you stop something you set out to achieve, it’s near impossible to start again.

As we face the dark, nasty bite of Polar Vortex Jayden and the remaining wintery days that we’ll have to face every year that follows, we have to remind commit ourselves to always keep going. And if you get a chance, swing by the Izzos’ house and take a piss on their snowy lawn.