May 21
Some extra art of Shade and her cubs; Claw and Fang and their since dispersed brother Tusk (though he goes by a different name now)
seen from Singapore
seen from T1
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from Japan
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Maldives
seen from Russia
seen from Chile
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
seen from Canada
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
Some extra art of Shade and her cubs; Claw and Fang and their since dispersed brother Tusk (though he goes by a different name now)
Hello hello request time. Martyn. That's it that's all I'm sad about the tree man Fluffy please make me sadder
you did say to make you sad :)
every time supernatural trends and you know you’re about to see the worst takes of your life again
14 with parkner? 👉👈🥺
of course! this is in two parts, both of which are posted below. I hope you like it!
word count: 1524
warnings: uh. mentions of some shitty coping mechanisms (vague) and some kissing! pretty fluffy tbh
14: things you said after you kissed me
i.
Peter Parker saves his first kiss for the ‘right person’, and when he finds him, he knows right away that he hadn’t made a mistake in waiting. It’s an immediate connection- it just clicks, right when he’s looking up into a pair of bright eyes and picking out flecks of gold among Florida-blue irises.
Harley Keener is an enigma to him, a puzzle, and Peter’s never been the type of person to pass up a puzzle.
It starts slow, just like most crushes do. He doesn’t notice the changes immediately- the way Harley’s eyes light up when Peter walks into the room, the way the corner of his lips always curl upwards upon seeing him, the way he listens attentively whenever Peter’s speaking and nods even if he isn’t making any sense.
Peter does, however, notice when butterflies fill his stomach every time Harley’s name appears on his phone screen. He notices the warm feeling that fills his chest whenever the blond boy laughs, the desire to run his hands through those unruly curls.
Peter’s not an idiot. He’s stupid, yes, but he’s not an idiot.
He knows what a crush feels like.
And, after a few months pass, he comes to figure out what love feels like.
Harley, Peter knows, hadn’t saved his first kiss. He tells stories about people back in Rose Hill- people he’d been in relationships with, people he’d hooked up with, people he’d kissed and never called back. His tone doesn’t change with each new story- sometimes he’ll laugh, sometimes he’ll scoff, but every word that comes out of his mouth is coated with distaste and contempt.
He hasn’t made a connection with any of his past conquests. Peter knows this- Harley had told him plainly that he hadn’t cared very much for any of them.
Peter doesn’t judge. He understands not being able to form emotional connections, and he knows that Harley’s had a rough upbringing. It’s not his fault that he’d been a bit of a player (a fact that he readily acknowledges).
But it does fill Peter with a bit of apprehension, the way he’s come to care about his friend.
If Harley hadn’t cared about any of them, why would he be any different?
So, filled with fear of a friendship lost, Peter waits. He waits, and waits, and waits, pushing his wants to the back of his mind until, sometimes, it barely feels like they’re there. He’s been shoving emotions down since he was young- why would this be any different? Well.
It’s never worked very well before.
It all comes to a head at Tony’s fiftieth birthday party, when Peter (freshly seventeen) and Harley (eighteen for two months) crash on the couch after the guests have left and Tony and Pepper are putting Morgan to bed. There’s a tilted party hat perched atop Harley’s curls, hanging just above his ear, and a single pink streamer caught on his shoulder.
He looks happy, Peter thinks, squished between Harley and the sofa’s arm.
He doesn’t want to ruin this.
But what if-
Apprehension growing in his stomach, Peter bites his lip, eyes fixed on the tip of Harley’s nose. He moves slowly, setting one hand on the other boy’s thigh, and gulps as Harley turns to face him.
He’s moving slowly. Expression unreadable, he looks down at Peter, tilting his head ever-so-gently to the left. Harley’s lips are parted just enough to allow the tip of his tongue to dart out.
Peter blinks as a smirk grows across Harley’s face. He’s frozen, a statue of solid ice, staring up into the face of the sun as blond curls crowd his vision and a large hand tilts his chin up.
Harley’s fingers are gentle and warm, tucked just above the crook of Peter’s neck. He’s good at this- has had enough practice to know what to do.
“Am I different?” Peter asks, voice shaky and quiet, fixed on pools of deep, deep blue. Deep enough to drown in, he thinks.
Harley’s smile softens into something affectionate and teasing. He doesn’t say anything, just moves his hand so that he’s cupping Peter’s jaw and leans in to press their lips together.
He tastes like honey.
Peter’s eyes drift close as Harley pulls away, hand still holding his head. To his embarrassment, something in him drives him forward, chasing Harley’s lips like an absolute moron.
He flushes as Harley laughs.
“Honey,” he murmurs, index finger tracing careful circles behind his ear in a way that sends shivers down Peter’s spine, “you always have been.”
ii.
Harley Keener has been with eight people, and he hasn’t told a single one that he loves them. He keeps track- just because he acts like it doesn’t matter to him doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. There’s a page in his ninety-nine cent grocery store journal dedicated to their names and the reason that he’d liked them. Their special characteristics, their individual beauty, their appeal.
Unnecessary? Probably. But if he doesn’t keep track, there’s a little part of him that keeps telling him that he’ll lose himself.
Harley doesn’t want to lose himself.
Jaime Harris had been a brunette softball player and the reason Harley knew he wasn’t attracted to girls. He’s eighty-percent sure he’d been the reason she knew she wasn’t attracted to boys.
Aiden McCarthy had been short and muscular and very, very closeted. Harley had liked him quite a bit more than the others; Aiden had decided that boys weren’t worth the fear of being outed.
Harley respected that. Didn’t mean the breakup hadn’t hurt, though.
The other names seem to blur beneath his pen, chickenscratch writing too difficult to understand, and he lets himself slowly forget.
Those names all come from the lowest point in Harley’s life, and now that he’s out, he wants to stay out.
And now he’s with Peter.
Peter, whose eyes gleam like honey when the sun hits them at the right angle. Peter, whose laugh sounds like bells chiming in the early morning. Peter, who is happiness and joy and everything Harley has never had incarnate.
Peter, who Harley loves.
They’re in Harley’s room when it happens, studying for their upcoming senior exams. Peter is sitting cross-legged on his bed, textbook perched on his knee, eyebrows furrowed so hard that it looks like they’re about to touch. He’s so engrossed in his work that he hasn’t noticed Harley watching him- and he’s been watching him for a while.
He’s allowed, though. Boyfriend privileges and all that.
Harley knows he should be studying. It’s a big deal, these exams- he has to finish strong if he’s going to bother to finish at all.
But.
It’s been a week since he and Peter have had a good talk. A week since they’ve really kissed. And, yeah, he’s a teenaged boy who really likes kissing. They’re in the prime of their lives, and Harley wants to enjoy it.
He hasn’t been this happy in a while.
It doesn’t take much more than shoving Peter’s textbook off of his leg to get his attention. When he looks up, the lamplight from Harley’s desk catches in his eye and his breath stops in the base of his chest, because wow. He’s so pretty.
“Harls?” Peter asks, catching his lip between his teeth. “You alright?”
And he just looks so beautiful, sitting there in Harley’s room, looking at him with those big eyes, that Harley can’t help himself.
He leans in slowly, just like he knows Peter likes, and tilts his own head so that he can slot their lips together. Peter’s hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes right at the junction between his shoulder and neck, and okay. Wow.
Harley slides onto the bed, burying the palm of his hand in the thick hair at the nape of Peter’s neck. His fingers slowly twine around a few strands as Peter tilts his head back, lips working against Harley’s slowly, slowly, slowly.
He’s smiling. Harley can feel the way his lips twitch up, the way the warmth of his cheek seems to bleed into the warmth of Harley’s. Peter’s hand slips below the hem of his shirt, skin against skin, and Harley shivers just a bit.
He pulls back. Their lips are barely touching, hovering over each other, and every time Peter breathes, a puff of warm air hits Harley’s nose. Eyes locked, Harley leans forward to rest his forehead against Peter’s, butterflies deep in his stomach because he’s going to say it, he’s going to say, it, he’s going to-
“I love you,” Harley breathes, closing his eyes so that his eyelashes brush up against Peter’s. “I love you.”
For a moment, Peter stops breathing. The butterflies intensify, this time for a different reason, because oh. He’s made a mistake. That wasn’t the right thing to say. Oh, no-
Another puff of air hits his nose, this one quicker, because Peter is laughing.
“I love you, too, baby.”
It’s the first time he’s said it.
It’s the first time he’s felt it.
It’s the only time it’s mattered.
In order: @peapod20001 's Charlie, @beaniebabs 's Jiang, @the-foolish-caregiver 's Ai, beanie's Dew, @shadeterra 's Bramble and Aliza, and @exothewisp 's Milo and Lee!
I still have three to go but I have something special planned for them ;)
❤ + Trager?
thank youu! send me a ❤️ and a character for a headcanon about them!
pre-asylum he wore those glasses with colored lenses for the aesthetic :] would put em on top of his head or just fidget with em in general
and now he obviously doesn’t have them anymore but he still has the same habits with his weird shattered ones (even when they’re harder to move around)
Fact swap time :D Nate is close with his family and often helps his dad and grandfather tend to the commercial garden. His mother, Mama Rita, owns a plant nursery on the outskirts of the city.
Okay, this is weird, but one of the OCs in my new WIP is also named Nate! It’s really cool that he helps tend to a garden. I love gardens and AHH I WANNA GO TO A PLANT NURSERY.
Jeb, from my new Vampire Husbands WIP, is the oldest of seven siblings. He’s got a scar about an inch and a half long on his cheek and is missing a chunk of his nose due to an unfortunate accident on the ranch.
