#tw: mentions of homophonia

[fulltimegayjobactivated]

RULES TIME

Also counts for requests/asks

- Be nice and patient with me. i'm often quit busy

HEAVY TOPICS (example; SH)

TW me for any heavy ideas such as SH, suicide and more.

R@P3 AND SA

I won't write R@p3 or SA cause it makes me HELLA uncomfortable (please respect that). I will block if I get any request of asking me to write it, but I guess mentioning it as in a character saying they got SA or R@p3d is tolerated for now. (+ the heavy topic rule)

HOMOPHONIA AND TRANSPHOPIA

I won't tolerate anything that contains homophonic, such as transphobic topics! Keep that in mind, or I block.

[shadedrose01]

hey! I absolutely love your writing & I was just wondering if you could do something where peter & Harley are dating but Harley doesn’t post or comment about their relationship and peter gets really insecure thinking it’s cause he’s not good enough 🥺

Honey Lavender

Thanks for the prompt, anon! It's not exactly what you asked for (sorry!), but I hope it's still okay! I hope you, and everybody else enjoys!

Slight Trigger Warning: there are mentions of homophobia, but nothing shown :)

--

Peter drops his bags onto the guest bed, a cloud of dust puffing into the air and causing him to sneeze.

"Oh dear, we havent dusted this room in a while, I'm sorry love." Ms. Keener ("Call me Macy, dear, we're family!") apologizes, rubbing an arm over the bedsheets to collect any of the remaining dust bunnies still attached to the linen, pieces of her dark chestnut brown hair falling out of her bun and into her face.

Peter flails his arms a bit, trying to reassure her quickly. "No, no, it's okay, its perfect, thank you so much, Ms- Macy." He corrects himself as she sends him a playful glare over her shoulder.

"Miss Macy? That's a new one." Another voice pitches in from the doorframe, cheeky, Harley's thin but muscular body leaning against the wooden panels with a grin highlighting his dimples, his baby blues twinkling.

"Harley James Keener, you be nice now!" Macy chides, leaning closer to smack him upside the head, Harley ducking around her hand with a chuckle. Peter watches the scene with a small smile, with only grows as boyfriend comes to wrap his arms around his waist in a tight squeezed hug.

Peter was (finally) visiting Rose Hill for the first time, after over a year of him and Harley dating, and he couldn't be more excited. He was still battling jetlag, and reeling from all the distinct differences between Rose Hill and Queens ('There's barely any noise out here, no cars horns or people yelling or anything'), but he had always wanted to come, always wanted to meet Harley's family and see just how the southern belle of his had been raised. And just a few minutes in, after having reached the Keener farm and having met Macy and Abbie (a spitfire is the only way he could describe her, he loved her already), he was already learning so much more about the small town life, and about his boyfriend, things he didnt even think about, and he adored it. He loved it with every fiber of his being.

"Ma," Harley whined, plopping his chin onto Peter's shoulder and rocking them back and forth, causing Peter to giggle. "Don't embarass me!" His accent has grown thicker since he came home a few months ago, after staying with Tony for the summer months, and Peter couldnt help how much he loved it, couldnt help the shivers it caused, Harley sending him a knowing look, eyebrow raised. Peter flushes, knowing that's going to be brought up later, during a more personal time.

"Then don't be rude to Peter." She snarks, sending him a sly wink, which causes Harley to rolls his eyes and Peter to laugh. She makes her way towards the door, swaying her hips and humming under her breath, before she pauses to give them both a hard stare, her vibrant green hazel eyes narrowing slightly. "No funny business, you hear me?"

"Aye aye, captain." Harley salutes lazily, grinning as his mom huffs, the smile on her face betraying her true emotions, and walks out the rest of the way, closing the door most of the way on her way out, only leaving it open a crack.

As soon as his mother is out of sight, the old wooden stairs creaking signaling her departure downstairs, Harley grabs on to his hips and spins him around, pressing a kiss to his lips as soon as he can. It was the first time they've been alone together since Peter landed, so he wasnt surprised at the act, just wrapping his arms around Harley's neck, one hand gripping his back and the other running through his hair, pressing them a little closer together and pushing back into the kiss.

"Missed you," Harley mumbles against his lips, before pulling away, a softer, personal smile tilting his lips, his eyes bright like a hot summer's day. A thumb brushes the skin of his hip from under his shirt, small, soothing motions. "Missed you so much."

"I missed you too, baby. So so very much." Peter puts their foreheads together, and shuts his eyes, sighing constantly as they start to rock gently in their embrace, swaying back and forth to an unknown song, to the beat of their hearts and the rhythm of their souls, combined, intertwined.

They spin a few circles together in silence, just breathing each others air and feeling each others heat, being in the moment, before Harley puffs out a breath, and murmurs shakily. "Pete, there's something I gotta tell you."

He opens his eyes, lifting his head to look into Harley's now stormy ones, swirling and churning with a darkness, a sadness that has Peter's stomach twisting, his heart dropping. What happened? Did he do something? What did he do?

Harley goes to tell him, goes to speak when another feminine voice cuts them off from down the hall.

"Harls, your friends are here!" Abbey yells from what sounds like down the stairs, and Harley flinches back, the embrace and the moment broken.

He calls back a quick "Okay, coming!" Before giving Peter a plastic, shaky smile, eyes wide and panicked. "Come on, let's go say hi, I guess."

"Harley-" He doesnt get the words out as Harley grabs his hand and practically starts dragging him down the stairs, and Peter stifles an annoyed (and worried) sigh, knowing that his boyfriend is clearly not going to answer whatever the heck that was upstairs anymore, now that his friends were here.

Oh well. Time to try and make another good first impression.

They slide their shoes on before going out the white, metal swing door, and onto the painted wooden wrap around porch that encompasses the entire front of the Keener residence. Right in front of the doorway, on the dirt driveway, sits two different ATV's, their engines still humming as they sit in park, their riders still sitting on top, one with one person and the other with a passenger. The person right in the front, with a bright orange ATV, lifts up the visor of their helmet, revealing a boy not much younger than Harley, with shaggy brown hair, oval brown eyes and chubby freckled cheeks, pushed up by a smirk.

"Yo Harley, you comin' out?" The boy yells over the hum of the engine, his voice full of teasing, of mirth. He makes eye contact with Peter, whose interovertive instincts cause him to shrink a little under the gaze, and raises an eyebrow, looking shocked, surprised. "Whose that?"

Harley ignores the second question, looking away as he responds to the first with a shrug, "I can't tonight, EJ, sorry."

"Oh come on, Harls!" The passenger on the other ATV chimes in, a younger girl with curly ginger hair and green eyes, her arms wrapped around the driver. "You never come out anymore."

"And you never answered his question, dude." The driver chimes in, finally, the older man's deeper voice rumbling lower than the engine of the machine, his gray eyes harsh and cold, his lips tilted in a disapproving frown. He nods his head towards Peter, who is now standing dumbly at Harleys side, as he asks, "Who is he? Your boyfriend?"

There's something about the way the man spits out the word that causes a flair of fear, of bubbling anger to rise in his chest, and Peter opens his mouth to spit back, to say loud and proud that why yes, yes he is, when-

"What?" Harley sputters, laughing anxiously, the sound sounding all fake and wrong. "No, of course not! I'm not gay!"

And Peter's heart stops.

His head shoots over to stare at Harley with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, but Harley isnt looking his way, wont look his way, his eyes averted and looking anywhere else but him, and Peter's heart his crumbling, his lung tightening and his throat squeezing as tears fill his eyes.

...what?

"He's just a- a family friend, and I gotta say behind to watch 'em, you know how it is." Harley gazes straight forward as he says this, his voice unwavering, but monotone, obviously forced to Peter but apparently not to his friends as they all laugh and nod.

"Okay, good! You had us worried there for a sec." The boy, EJ, snickers, before putting his visor back down, revving his engine for seemingly no reason. "We'll see ya later?"

"Yeah! Cya!" Harley yells back as the engines roar back to life, the trio pulling out of the driveway and shooting off down the road again, the bright orange ATV doing a wheely on the way down.

Theres a few moments of nothing, a few shattered heartbeats where the two listens to the roars fade into the distance, before Peter cant stands it anymore, turning on foot and racing back into the house, hearing the metal swing door clanging against the frame of the house. Hearing Harley call out to him, and as his vision starts to blur, he moves faster, pushing past Abbie with a mumbled apology before rushing up the stairs, taking two at a time, and making it to the guest bedroom slamming door behind him, causing the wood to splinter slightly.

As soon as the door is shut and locked, tears pool out of his eyes as he breaks down, pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle his sobs as he sits on the dusty, creaking bed, curling into himself as he hears heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and another lighter pair coming after that, hears Abbie mutter something jokingly and Harley hiss out a response before the knocking and pleading start.

"Pete? Please open up, I'm sorry, let me explain-"

"Explain what?" He tries to snap, tries to yell and bite and sneer, but it comes out as a sob, weak and shaky. "How you apparently aren't gay? How I'm a 'family friend'?" Peter whimpers into his hands, rubbing at his eyes to try and get rid of the frustrating tears pouring out of them. It's stupid, he was so, so stupid.

"No, Pete-" Theres a light thunk, like Harley leaned his forehead against the door with a little too much force. Theres a sigh, low and sad, before Harleys voice comes back, still pleading, but softer, full of sorrow, "It's- It's not like that-"

"Isnt it!? You don't want to tell them a-about me, I-I get it." He does, he really truly does. He's just boring old, useless, nobody Peter Parker, while Harley is... well, Harley. So he gets it. He just doesn't understand why it hurts so damn much.

"Peter-" Now, he sounds choked, like Peter's pain is starting to get to him too, like the heartbreak is contagious. "Please, baby, let me in. Let me explain, please. I promise you, it's not what you think."

Theres a pause, and Peter hates himself, hates himself for considering it, hates himself for getting up, hates himself himself for agreeing with it, unlocking the door and stepping back just in time for Harley to open it swiftly, looking frazzled, hair askew and eyes wide, teary, his cheeks wet.

Their eyes reconnect, Peter's spilling brown to Harley's ocean blues, and whatever look is on Peter's face causes Harleys to crumble, and rush out, "I want to tell them! A-about us, I do, god, I want to tell them so bad, Pete, but-" He sighs long and low, eyes falling downcast, head bowed in shame. "They're homophobic, Pete. Everyone in this town is." Peter's heart thumps painfully in his chest, and so many different questions swirl in his head, but he swallows them down, letting Harley continue, voice tight, fearful, shaky. "I got lucky with my mom, my sister, I thought they were gonna hate me too when I first came out, I was-" his breath hicks. "I was so ready for them to kick me out and not look twice, but they didnt, and I'm lucky, Peter, I'm lucky. If the town found out, they'd- they'd tell ma to bring to therapy, to Church, to fix me like I'm some broken toy." He spits it out, bitter, angry, and the fire and ache in Peter's chest is slowly receding, slowly fading the more Harley talks and the more he understands. Harley sighs again, and his shoulders slump, eyes growing misty. "I wish I could tell them about us, Pete, I really really do. I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I adore you, but I just-"

"Can't." Peter finishes, wiping the drying tears off of his cheeks.

"Yeah." He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, a few trickles falling. "I'm sorry, baby. Im so sorry. I didn't want to say any of that. I didnt mean any of it. I'm sorry."

Peter glances up at him, sees the way Harley looks, with his hunched frame, head low, eyes shut, tears streaming down his red face, lips trembling, hands shaking, and makes a wounded noise at the back of his throat, taking a few steps forward and pulling the boy into a tight hug.

How was he supposed to stay mad at him when he looked like that? When everything is out of his control, when he's only doing what he has to for his safety, for his life.

Harley stiffens in his embrace, before slumping forward into him, grasping at the back of his hoodie and burying his wet face into the crook of Peter's neck, shivering with a sob. "Its okay," Peter whispers, kissing the side of his head and rocking them gently back and forth, just like they had done earlier, before this misunderstanding, before this mess. "It's okay. I'm sorry for misunderstanding."

Harley shakes his head, sniffling. "No, no, you didnt- didnt know. I'm sorry I said those things."

Now its Peter's turn to shake his head, pressing another kiss to his head, this time behind his ear. "Its *okay*," Peter reiterates, reassures, and Harley sighs, his warm breath puffing against Peter's chest.

"No it isn't." Harley responds remorseful, his grip tightening. "I shouldnt have to do this. I shouldn't have to pretend, to lie. But I have to. I'm going to continue to have to."

"I know," Peter murmurs, rubbing a firm hand up and down his trembling boyfriend's back. "I know. It's okay, I understand now. Understand that you don't mean it." He pauses, shutting his eyes and hooking his chin on Harleys shoulder. "You're right though. You shouldn't have to do this. And I'm so so sorry that you have to live like this, especially around your friends, but-" He pulls away, opens his eyes, and places a hand on each of Harley's freckled tear stained cheeks, looking dead in his azure, shining, red rimmed but still so beautiful, so so beautiful eyes, and tells him firmly, promising, "One day, I'm going to get you out of here, away from this town and it's people, and you'll never have to deal with this again. Okay?"

Harley's face crinkles again, but this time its with joy, with love, a smile growing on his face as more tears trickle down his cheeks. "Okay." He murmurs, soft, shaky, but honest, but true.

Things may not be perfect, but one day, Peter thinks as he pulls his boyfriend, the love of his life, his soulmate in for another big hug, one day, they will be. As long as he gets to stay by Harley's side, everything will be okay. He's sure of it.

[gayandvibin]

Genderthoughts below the cut, pretty venty.

Usually when I think about myself, it’s a spiral of doubts and broken half memories. I dissociate pretty heavily (we’re talking I can remember one ‘clear’ day in five years where I wasn’t dissociated and the world was ‘normal’ again) and rarely feel like I can trust my memory.

Being completely blunt with myself, a cis person would not be thinking about their gender this much or in this way, and when things are going well, I do know that.

Pretty much, I think myself in circles and have periodic realisations.

I’ve finally gotten used to the fact that as much as I do want to find the right label, I’m in a place now where I’m okay with a ‘vague’ one, or none at all.

The top image is basically how I talk to myself about these things (or rather how i write my emo poetry in my notes app at 2am), vs the bottom, how I actually express that (badly? very badly... and with memes)

[dddemigirl]

My dad called me just now saying that my grandpa isn’t doing well and that he’s going to go see him with his girlfriend. Grandpa has been getting more and more frail and less… together over the last two years of the pandemic. I think him staying in the house the entire time of covid is partially to blame; he used to go for long walks all of the time. He’s also in his 90’s and well, eventually your body just starts shutting my down. I have mixed feelings about my grandpa; we’ve never been really close as I didn’t see him a ton while I was growing up. When I was an teenager/adult I learned that he’s pretty xenophobic and definitely homophobic and transphobic. As a lesbian myself it hurt me to hear him talk that away. I feel sad that someone is dying but I feel guilt because I’m not as upset as I feel I should be. I know my dad will want me to come to Minnesota for the future funeral and I really don’t want to. I don’t want to get on a plane during a pandemic, I don’t want to go back to Minnesota to see my dad and all of his realities as my dad is the source of a lot of my trauma and abuse. I associate my home state with those bad things which breaks my heart.