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ellievsbear
🪼
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Sweet Seals For You, Always
d e v o n
YOU ARE THE REASON
izzy's playlists!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
trying on a metaphor
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Today's Document
Discoholic 🪩
shark vs the universe
KIROKAZE
Misplaced Lens Cap
No title available
Stranger Things
#extradirty
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Poland
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seen from Malaysia
@starker-moodboards
I see lots of tags on my posts that say things like #reference or #starker prompt, #fic ideas, etc, and I just want to say that if anyone ever writes anything based on/inspired by my moodboards/captions, I would love a tag. If I were a more confident writer, I'd write the fics myself, but if my art inspires your art, I hope you will write it, and I hope you will tag me so I can read/see it. :)
I wish you all the creative energy and confidence to make art.
Tony hired someone to do the Christmas wrapping for him. Most places offer gift wrapping in store, and he paid someone to come in and wrap the ones that didn't. If Tony didn’t have time to have something professionally wrapped - it went into a bag with a few tufts of tissue sticking out of the top.
Peter was the opposite. He’s always gift wrapped things himself. Sometimes without proper wrapping paper. He’d used newspaper and brown paper bags from the supermarket - he'd even used inside out birthday paper. When they were dating, his presents to Tony were always haphazardly wrapped and usually a little crumpled from being stuffed in his backpack. So, after they were married, Peter started spending an extra few dollars to have them wrapped up nicely.
It was nice to have his gifts match the ones Tony had tucked underneath their tree, all wrapped with nice crisp lines and tied with looping ribbons. And it was nice to have real Christmas paper for the ones he couldn't get wrapped professionally. He couldn't think of a single down side until Tony caught him on his way home from Macy’s with an armful of wrapped gifts, and he’s never seen him look so disappointed at the sight of a stack of presents.
“No Garfield this year?”
One of the few Stark Christmas traditions Tony carried on was a practice taken directly from his Italian mother. She often shared stories with Tony about what it was like to come to America on her own, and the struggle she faced around the holidays when the universities closed the dormitories for Christmas and she found herself suddenly homeless. As a result, every year they took in a student from one of the local universities. More if there was a need, and years later, Tony continued the tradition. PR loved it, security hated it, Tony’s opinions varied depending on what kind of house guest he was stuck with for two weeks in his family's winter cabin. This year, cooped up with a senior from MIT, as handsome as he was smart, Tony was cautiously optimistic.
Tony hired decorators each year. They would come in just after Thanksgiving and decorate the living areas in tasteful, generic, holiday decor.
The first year, Peter was delighted - it almost seemed like magic - coming home from his Black Friday patrol to see the house draped in lights and garland. The second year, he was almost disappointed. It was nice seeing all the decorations, but losing the tradition of choosing a Christmas tree, decorating it with his special ornaments, and sitting by with a cup of cocoa to admire their work was lost in the generic perfection of a professionally decorated house. The third year, Peter brought up the discussion before Thanksgiving, and they talked about it.
Peter forgets sometimes, the cold upbringing Tony was subjected to. He’d never considered that the idea of family-decorated trees or personalized ornaments wouldn’t be a shared memory, but as always, Tony was receptive to it, and though the house still had to undergo the clockwork professional transformation, Tony reserved the private parts of the house for decorating with Peter.
For Tony, Christmas always meant cameras and interviews, uncomfortable suits, and unbearably long parties full of insufferable people. Affairs he could hardly tolerate sober, even in the name of charity. With all the pressure, he failed to see how the holidays even appealed to people until he was at school. Out from under his father, and cautiously tangling with a one-night-stand gone right.
Peter was delightful in ways Tony didn’t know a person without an ulterior motive could be. Visibly uncomfortable with wealth or fame, and attending MIT on scholarships, he wasn’t the type Tony usually mixed with, and for the life of him, Tony couldn’t understand why.
Peter introduced him to all that was good about the holidays after one, reluctant, just as friends date to a Stark Charity Gala and Auction. After seeing the cold holiday parties Tony was accustomed to, he couldn't not show him the other side of things. Taking him ice skating in Central Park, watching Christmas movies curled up on the sofa under a fluffy blanket, testing out hot chocolate recipes with enough sugar to keep them awake long into the night, and taking him to the Christmas displays in the mall and pulling him close under a sprig of mistletoe.
On a particularly cold night, wrapped up in blankets and cuddling on the balcony, Tony realized that this is what Christmas was meant to be. It was meant to be cozy and warm and spent with someone he cared about. It was too soon to think about next Christmas. Too soon to imagine that this is what his future held for him, a lifetime of Peter's cold little nose pressed against his neck, but maybe, for a Christmas wish, Tony could hope it would be.
On December first, Tony surprised Peter with an Advent Calendar. Twenty four wrapped boxes to be opened every day leading up to Christmas, each holding a special gift, some for big Peter, but mostly for little Peter.
It had been about a month since he'd told Tony about his age regression, and Tony had been so supportive, giving him space when he needed space, comfort when he needed comfort, and spoiling him endlessly with gifts to fill the playroom he'd designed for him.
Every day when Peter opened his gift, he was surprised at how thoughtful Tony was, at how much he paid attention to the little things Peter said or did. In box number one was the gingerbread house LEGO set he'd mentioned on their last date. Number six was a gift card to Build-A-Bear. (Which was probably due to the vlogs he watched in little space.) Box ten is a new pacifier that matched his favorite pajamas. Peter’s still too shy to use them in front of Tony, but he knows Tony’s checked in on him in the nursery enough times to know how often he used them. Yesterday’s box was a Webkinz from Peter’s eBay wish list, which was peppered with toys he’d always wanted, but couldn’t afford when he was young. Today’s was a nostalgic one, full of matchbox cars.
When Peter was big, he was awed by the thought that went into each gift, and humbled by the money Tony had spent on these likely out-of-production toys and games. When Peter was little… Well, more than once, Tony caught little-Peter shaking the next day's box, trying to guess what was inside. And more than once, Tony's had to lure him away from the remaining gifts with promises of baking cookies, or computer time to play with Gumdrop, or his all time favorite little space combo of movies, cocoa, and cuddles.
It was two weeks until Christmas when Iron Man showed up, and the news spread quickly throughout the small town. So, Peter wasn’t completely caught off guard when Tony Stark stumbled into the diner where he worked, sliding into a booth in his section, and demanding someone get him coffee.
He was rude. Ruder than Peter ever could have imagined. Impatient and snappy, reinforcing even more the distaste Peter had for rich businessmen, regardless of the good he’d done as Iron Man. (Or how handsome he was, for that matter.) Peter complained about it to MJ at the laundromat for nearly an hour, which meant that by the time Mr. Stark showed up at the front door of the Parker's bed and breakfast, he’d likely heard all about it.
---
Tony couldn’t have been less happy to be stranded in this shitty little town. He was here on business, looking for information on some local spider-vigilante that had come onto his radar a few days ago, and even with a mission, it was a miserable place to be. Although he did enjoy flirting with the cute little hotheaded twink from the diner that ran the makeshift hotel with his aunt. He saw Peter a few times a day, bringing him coffee, or clean towels, or extra blankets. He knew Peter hated him, or at least that he was trying to, fuming visibly whenever Tony flirted with him, cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink. It was a good show, his gritting politeness, and frequent door-slamming, but he only has to exist in a public space to hear all about Peter Parker’s childhood obsession with Iron Man.
Tony teased Peter because it was fun, but nobody's fuse is endless, and it wasn’t long before he snapped, and, in a fit of rage, let a little too much information slip about what he thought a real hero was, and Tony realized this infuriatingly adorable boy might just be the key to finally locating and identifying Spider-Man.
For Tony, Christmas always meant cameras and interviews, uncomfortable suits, and unbearably long parties full of insufferable people. Affairs he could hardly tolerate sober, even in the name of charity. With all the pressure, he failed to see how the holidays even appealed to people until he was at school. Out from under his father, and cautiously tangling with a one-night-stand gone right.
Peter was delightful in ways Tony didn’t know a person without an ulterior motive could be. Visibly uncomfortable with wealth or fame, and attending MIT on scholarships, he wasn’t the type Tony usually mixed with, and for the life of him, Tony couldn’t understand why.
Peter introduced him to all that was good about the holidays after one, reluctant, just as friends date to a Stark Charity Gala and Auction. After seeing the cold holiday parties Tony was accustomed to, he couldn't not show him the other side of things. Taking him ice skating in Central Park, watching Christmas movies curled up on the sofa under a fluffy blanket, testing out hot chocolate recipes with enough sugar to keep them awake long into the night, and taking him to the Christmas displays in the mall and pulling him close under a sprig of mistletoe.
On a particularly cold night, wrapped up in blankets and cuddling on the balcony, Tony realized that this is what Christmas was meant to be. It was meant to be cozy and warm and spent with someone he cared about. It was too soon to think about next Christmas. Too soon to imagine that this is what his future held for him, a lifetime of Peter's cold little nose pressed against his neck, but maybe, for a Christmas wish, Tony could hope it would be.
Tony hired decorators each year. They would come in just after Thanksgiving and decorate the living areas in tasteful, generic, holiday decor.
The first year, Peter was delighted - it almost seemed like magic - coming home from his Black Friday patrol to see the house draped in lights and garland. The second year, he was almost disappointed. It was nice seeing all the decorations, but losing the tradition of choosing a Christmas tree, decorating it with his special ornaments, and sitting by with a cup of cocoa to admire their work was lost in the generic perfection of a professionally decorated house. The third year, Peter brought up the discussion before Thanksgiving, and they talked about it.
Peter forgets sometimes, the cold upbringing Tony was subjected to. He’d never considered that the idea of family-decorated trees or personalized ornaments wouldn’t be a shared memory, but as always, Tony was receptive to it, and though the house still had to undergo the clockwork professional transformation, Tony reserved the private parts of the house for decorating with Peter.
Tony hired someone to do the Christmas wrapping for him. Most places offer gift wrapping in store, and he paid someone to come in and wrap the ones that didn't. If Tony didn’t have time to have something professionally wrapped - it went into a bag with a few tufts of tissue sticking out of the top.
Peter was the opposite. He’s always gift wrapped things himself. Sometimes without proper wrapping paper. He’d used newspaper and brown paper bags from the supermarket - he'd even used inside out birthday paper. When they were dating, his presents to Tony were always haphazardly wrapped and usually a little crumpled from being stuffed in his backpack. So, after they were married, Peter started spending an extra few dollars to have them wrapped up nicely.
It was nice to have his gifts match the ones Tony had tucked underneath their tree, all wrapped with nice crisp lines and tied with looping ribbons. And it was nice to have real Christmas paper for the ones he couldn't get wrapped professionally. He couldn't think of a single down side until Tony caught him on his way home from Macy’s with an armful of wrapped gifts, and he’s never seen him look so disappointed at the sight of a stack of presents.
“No Garfield this year?”
Tony's lost count of how many times he'd been to Disney World. He used to go annually with his mom, and he's been down a few times in recent years, though lately it was usually just for a day. (Crowds weren't as easy as they used to be.) But when Tony found out that Peter had never been to Disney World, he knew he had to fix that right away - and not just in a day trip. Disney was made for people like Peter, so full of joy and excitement and wonder. He knew they'd need at least a week.
It was the perfect Christmas gift. Not just going to Disney, but watching Peter experience the magic for the first time. It was good to see him relaxed. With all that had happened in the short time he'd known Peter - all the tears and stress - to see him happy - smiling!
Well, that was the best gift of all.
It was two weeks until Christmas when Iron Man showed up, and the news spread quickly throughout the small town. So, Peter wasn’t completely caught off guard when Tony Stark stumbled into the diner where he worked, sliding into a booth in his section, and demanding someone get him coffee.
He was rude. Ruder than Peter ever could have imagined. Impatient and snappy, reinforcing even more the distaste Peter had for rich businessmen, regardless of the good he’d done as Iron Man. (Or how handsome he was, for that matter.) Peter complained about it to MJ at the laundromat for nearly an hour, which meant that by the time Mr. Stark showed up at the front door of the Parker's bed and breakfast, he’d likely heard all about it.
---
Tony couldn’t have been less happy to be stranded in this shitty little town. He was here on business, looking for information on some local spider-vigilante that had come onto his radar a few days ago, and even with a mission, it was a miserable place to be. Although he did enjoy flirting with the cute little hotheaded twink from the diner that ran the makeshift hotel with his aunt. He saw Peter a few times a day, bringing him coffee, or clean towels, or extra blankets. He knew Peter hated him, or at least that he was trying to, fuming visibly whenever Tony flirted with him, cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink. It was a good show, his gritting politeness, and frequent door-slamming, but he only has to exist in a public space to hear all about Peter Parker’s childhood obsession with Iron Man.
Tony teased Peter because it was fun, but nobody's fuse is endless, and it wasn’t long before he snapped, and, in a fit of rage, let a little too much information slip about what he thought a real hero was, and Tony realized this infuriatingly adorable boy might just be the key to finally locating and identifying Spider-Man.
Tony hired decorators each year. They would come in just after Thanksgiving and decorate the living areas in tasteful, generic, holiday decor.
The first year, Peter was delighted - it almost seemed like magic - coming home from his Black Friday patrol to see the house draped in lights and garland. The second year, he was almost disappointed. It was nice seeing all the decorations, but losing the tradition of choosing a Christmas tree, decorating it with his special ornaments, and sitting by with a cup of cocoa to admire their work was lost in the generic perfection of a professionally decorated house. The third year, Peter brought up the discussion before Thanksgiving, and they talked about it.
Peter forgets sometimes, the cold upbringing Tony was subjected to. He’d never considered that the idea of family-decorated trees or personalized ornaments wouldn’t be a shared memory, but as always, Tony was receptive to it, and though the house still had to undergo the clockwork professional transformation, Tony reserved the private parts of the house for decorating with Peter.
Peter was so busy studying for finals, he basically forgot about Christmas. He was aware that it was nearing, he recognized that somewhere along the line pumpkin spice became peppermint mocha, but there was really no time to think about it. His brain hurt from all the information he was trying to cram into it, and between studying. exams, patrols and ill timed naps, he can't even comprehend what's happening when Tony shows up at his apartment with a box of holiday decorations.
It was hard to focus on studying while Tony was there. Especially when he grabbed a bag and started tidying Peter’s apartment, clearing away the dishes, emptying the paper from the wastebasket - even making the bed. Peter knows Tony usually pays people to do that kind of stuff for him, so he feels bad for just sitting there, but there's just so much information to review, and even though Tony says he can cover the difference if Peter loses a scholarship, there is no way in hell Peter is letting that happen.
“One hour.” Tony interrupts, and he's halfway through his third uncomprehending re-read of the same paragraph, and he doesn't know if the screaming in his mind was frustration, exhaustion, stress or boredom, but he's already mumbling an excuse when Tony reaches over to switch off his desk lamp, pressing a kiss in his hair, and reaching for his hand. "Up. Take a break. I mean it." And an hour of not studying feels like six points off his GPA, but at the same time, spending that hour with Tony sounds like heaven.
They decorate the apartment in twenty minutes, stringing up a few lights, hanging ornaments on a desktop tree, putting a premade wreath on the door, and lighting a few candles. The other forty minutes are spent in bed, and Peter doesn’t know how tense he was until Tony gets him so deliciously, bonelessly relaxed.
One of the few Stark Christmas traditions Tony carried on was a practice taken directly from his Italian mother. She often shared stories with Tony about what it was like to come to America on her own, and the struggle she faced around the holidays when the universities closed the dormitories for Christmas and she found herself suddenly homeless. As a result, every year they took in a student from one of the local universities. More if there was a need, and years later, Tony continued the tradition. PR loved it, security hated it, Tony’s opinions varied depending on what kind of house guest he was stuck with for two weeks in his family's winter cabin. This year, cooped up with a senior from MIT, as handsome as he was smart, Tony was cautiously optimistic.
For Tony, Christmas always meant cameras and interviews, uncomfortable suits, and unbearably long parties full of insufferable people. Affairs he could hardly tolerate sober, even in the name of charity. With all the pressure, he failed to see how the holidays even appealed to people until he was at school. Out from under his father, and cautiously tangling with a one-night-stand gone right.
Peter was delightful in ways Tony didn’t know a person without an ulterior motive could be. Visibly uncomfortable with wealth or fame, and attending MIT on scholarships, he wasn’t the type Tony usually mixed with, and for the life of him, Tony couldn’t understand why.
Peter introduced him to all that was good about the holidays after one, reluctant, just as friends date to a Stark Charity Gala and Auction. After seeing the cold holiday parties Tony was accustomed to, he couldn't not show him the other side of things. Taking him ice skating in Central Park, watching Christmas movies curled up on the sofa under a fluffy blanket, testing out hot chocolate recipes with enough sugar to keep them awake long into the night, and taking him to the Christmas displays in the mall and pulling him close under a sprig of mistletoe.
On a particularly cold night, wrapped up in blankets and cuddling on the balcony, Tony realized that this is what Christmas was meant to be. It was meant to be cozy and warm and spent with someone he cared about. It was too soon to think about next Christmas. Too soon to imagine that this is what his future held for him, a lifetime of Peter's cold little nose pressed against his neck, but maybe, for a Christmas wish, Tony could hope it would be.
On December first, Tony surprised Peter with an Advent Calendar. Twenty four wrapped boxes to be opened every day leading up to Christmas, each holding a special gift, some for big Peter, but mostly for little Peter.
It had been about a month since he'd told Tony about his age regression, and Tony had been so supportive, giving him space when he needed space, comfort when he needed comfort, and spoiling him endlessly with gifts to fill the playroom he'd designed for him.
Every day when Peter opened his gift, he was surprised at how thoughtful Tony was, at how much he paid attention to the little things Peter said or did. In box number one was the gingerbread house LEGO set he'd mentioned on their last date. Number six was a gift card to Build-A-Bear. (Which was probably due to the vlogs he watched in little space.) Box ten is a new pacifier that matched his favorite pajamas. Peter’s still too shy to use them in front of Tony, but he knows Tony’s checked in on him in the nursery enough times to know how often he used them. Yesterday’s box was a Webkinz from Peter’s eBay wish list, which was peppered with toys he’d always wanted, but couldn’t afford when he was young. Today’s was a nostalgic one, full of matchbox cars.
When Peter was big, he was awed by the thought that went into each gift, and humbled by the money Tony had spent on these likely out-of-production toys and games. When Peter was little… Well, more than once, Tony caught little-Peter shaking the next day's box, trying to guess what was inside. And more than once, Tony's had to lure him away from the remaining gifts with promises of baking cookies, or computer time to play with Gumdrop, or his all time favorite little space combo of movies, cocoa, and cuddles.